This is my true accord of being turned from a dom into a sub by my husband.
How the Mighty Have Fallen: My sub Turns the Tables on Me.
A true story.
I am a successful attorney who divorced his wife at age 36 in favor of dating men. I tried hard to be part of an intellectual power couple like I had been with my wife, dating only CEO's, investment bankers, and thought leaders. Each was a bigger asshole than the last, disliking kids in general and mine in particular. None would nurture me with a freaking gun to their head.
Eventually I got over them (and myself) and fell for a hot, hunky construction worker with homespun grammar and a heart of gold. Quiet, a little shy and very manly, his wife had left him with custody of a kid. Like everyone we have met since then, even she was astonished to find out he was gay. He is very masculine presenting. He is a huge sports fan, drives a pickup truck, drinks whiskey, has huge natural muscles, not gym muscles, especially arms, neck, shoulders and back. He has a small, firm beer gut, to say nothing of a sweet tight ass that I knew I had to fuck, (and would be the first to do so.)
He was new to mansex when we met, and new to kink. He had stars in his eyes about me and our sex life, and he thought that my dominant side in the bedroom was sexy and fun, or so he said. I loved dominating this mountain of a man, and quickly turned into the major asshole dom I am known in some circles to be. He hated rimming me but I made him do it every day. I made him sleep in tight, painful bondage. He was afraid of sex with other guys so I would tie him up and let random guys fuck him. Since I was the first to fuck him, my average dick seemed big to him, which I loved. He insisted that the more hung guys who fucked him at my direction were no more fun. (This is called a lie.) I used heavy flogging and electro on him. The least disobedience on his part was punished with even harsher beatings, electro, and heavy pounding at both ends by a fuck machine.
He said he had enough money to get by, but I could see that he was still a little dazzled by my resources. I took him to Europe for his first time and flashed my credit card at every problem that came his way. Eventually he and his kid moved in with me and my kids. They quickly became inseparable and saw each other as much loved companions, his only child being delighted to finally have some long-desired siblings.
What I didn't know was that he was on Vicodin for a construction injury. He was determined to get off of it, and finally did so at year three of our relationship. He also had vivid, traumatic memories of childhood sexual abuse by a man, which was way easier to bear with narcotic on board. His nightly beatings and bound rapings by random men at my direction were also easier to bear on Vicodin. Once he was off of it he realized that he was in over his head. The trauma came bubbling up, and he became severely claustrophobic. He said nothing to me about any of this. He had one eye on the door, but the closeness of our kids and the closeness of my wallet were a strong draw. (My personality was not.) The construction industry had just tanked and he was out of work, scrambling for odd jobs, which he found humiliating as a skilled carpenter.
So unbeknownst to me he devised a way to make it work. He looked through my browsing history and saw some cuck and chastity porn that we had not discussed. He talked to a couple of my kinky buddies who wanted to see me taken down a peg or two. He took a stiff belt of whiskey and decided to swing for the fences. He decided to make me, a brutal and mostly asshole dom, his slave. Not merely his sub, mind you, but his slave.
He gets on top of me and pins me down in bed one night. Somehow I had never really appreciated his strength compared to mine, since he had always been so submissive and compliant. His muscles had always seemed like decorations. I couldn't move a muscle, like not one inch, and tried to tell him to get off of me. He grabbed my balls hard, smacked my face and told me to shut the fuck up or he would crush my nuts for good.
"Now you listen to me, you brutal motherfucker," he grunted, "and listen to me good. Things are going to be different around here. I've decided I can't be your slave anymore and I'm ready to walk out the door this minute. I'm going to give you one chance to save this, and one chance only, so listen up."
My pulse was racing and I was so shocked I didn't really know here I was. All the time I keep thinking I can throw him off of me, but even when I strained with all my might I couldn't wiggle at all.
"Knock it off and hold still and listen to me, boy" he said very matter of factly, "or I will wreck your balls once and for all."
He squeezed harder and I lost my breath, hoping he would say what he wanted to quickly, but instead he took his time. In slow, deliberate tones, with a confidence I had never heard before, he continued,
"You are going to be my slave from now on. You have seven days to get your dick pierced so I can lock you in inescapable chastity. You won't cum until you find me three more hung guys to fuck me. You will stand naked at attention at the bedside, gagged, holding drinks, towels, and lube on a tray while they do so. Even though you're the breadwinner you will do all of the chores- laundry, dishes, shopping, cooking, cleaning for me and for my guest tops. You will get a coin toss chance of fucking me once a year on Christmas. You can kiss me once a month on the lips. We will talk about other kisses in a minute."
"Hold the phone," I said, finally catching my breath. "This is never going to work." And then he let fly with the most pivotal observation of my life, before or since:
"Then why is your dick so hard?" He asked with a mocking stare, smacking it back and forth, a signal of things to come.
"Damn thing," I thought to myself. "It only gets me in trouble and it betrays me at every turn."
"I'm not done yet, boy," he continued. "You know I don't like licking ass and feet. You have made me do it every day since we met and you can kiss that goodbye.
You will lick my feet when I return home each day, and you will lick my ass for five minutes, morning and night. Don't worry, it will be just as clean as you left yours for me, Captain Dingleberry, which is not very."
"I will of course share your holes with whomever I like," he went on, "like you did mine. You have some disgruntled subs who will stand in line to do to you what you did to them, while my friends and I sit back and laugh. I will sell your services as an overeducated servant, masseur, cook, butler, carwasher, and cocksucker to anyone who will pay me."
By this time you could cut a diamond with my dick. He is basically reading my browsing history back to me. Every vague kinky fantasy I'd had in my head, including a few small submissive ones, is being spelled out for me.
"So here's the deal," he concluded, putting his ass in my face with surprising agility while maintaining his grip on my balls. "You have sixty seconds to decide. You either lick my ass right now to signify that you are my 100 percent slave, or I get up and walk out that door right now forever. 59, 58, 57..."
I hesitated til he got to about 45 thinking first of my kids and how difficult it would be for them to endure another split, this time losing a peer. Maybe I still can't admit to this day that my dick made the decision for me. Whether as family man, horndog, or a desire to let go of my daytime alpha personality, something inside me snapped and I leaned forward and gave my first of hundreds, now thousands, of rim jobs.
The piercing happened the following day. My then boyfriend, now hubby, emerged from a quiet conference with the piercer who announced that local anesthetic wasn't normally used for these things, and that they were out of the small and medium needles one uses for these things. Later I learned that he had received a hefty tip to tell both lies, before he jammed a giant needle, slowwwwwly, through my dick. (If you would like to know what it felt like, slam your dick in a car door.)
I learned quickly what my subs had known about chastity for a long time. There is a weird mental hyper focus and somehow it makes you want to submit to your key holder. Washing his truck and the cars of his visitors seemed erotic somehow, as did doing all the other chores. I found the tops for him and got to shoot once a week, but only if he was getting enough action.
He eventually fell in love with more than one of his tops, something that has created a little tension on and off. It's oddly easier if his tops (bulls) dominate me, than if they ignore me, as many prefer to do.
It's been a wild ride. He told me to abandon the prenup which I did, (talk about a bondage fantasy for a lawyer.). I thought for sure I would at least get to fuck him on our wedding night, but alas it was not to be. A former bull who had moved away flew into town and did the honors. He didn't know that we had gotten married or that I would be locked in chastity. Both of those things turned him on enormously and they fucked all night, right in front of me, while a fourteen day load boiled in my very blue balls. I had to lick all four feet and both asses on and off while they cuddled and talked about me like I wasn't even there. Not sure when I came to crave the erotic heat of humiliation, but I think there is one day when the wild horse finally submits and takes the bit. It was then.
It is now 12 years later. I am typing this on a plane, flying to see my man at our vacation home where he luxuriates four days a week, with who knows whom. He has directed me to serve certain other Doms and it is one of those out of town Doms who instructed me to write up this story today and give it to him by tonight. He, in turn, is sending other doms to use me. This studly Dom remembered the situation from my having mentioned it years ago and thought it was hot, and memorable enough to commit to posterity here. So here it is. Every word of it is true. Even non kinky people seem to like it when I mention even small parts of it.
And well, thousands of forced rimmings into it, I have to admit that they all have a point. Somehow I still don't like licking ass, but I think it's hot to be forced to lick ass. My dick, which hardened enough to give me up into a life of bondage in the first place, is at this very minute straining in its cage as I write this. I have long since shed any inkling of domination or resistance. I have come to enjoy the pleasure which my abject submission, and ever increasing pain tolerance, bring to my Sirs. And that's just how both of my Sirs like to keep it.
MHD