I ran my fingers over my dress and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Sir had purchased it for me to wear for a special night he had planned for me, and I liked what I saw. The dress accentuated my large breasts and made my ass look amazing while still being classy in its cut. Sir preferred me to look classy in public yet be a deviant slut in the bedroom, and I was happy to comply.

Normally, if a man told me what to wear I would snort in laughter, but Sir had such a hold over me that I would do anything for him. It was oddly pleasurable to slide my body into the black thong underwear and lacy bra Sir instructed me to wear. I slipped into the thigh-high black stockings and tucked my feet into the dangerously high black heels.

Mmmm, I thought. I look totally fuckable.

Tonight was going to be amazing. I didn’t know how or where we were going, but I knew I would be taken to places I’d never been before. For the past several weeks, Sir had been training me to be his submissive. I had learned how to properly address him, the correct kneeling postures, to walk two steps behind his left foot, and speak only when given permission, as well as how to take a whip, paddle, face-slapping, hair-pulling, gag, and butt plug. It had been exhaustingly divine, and I believed tonight was going to be a celebration of my success.

Being a sexual submissive had never crossed my mind before I met Sir. I couldn’t imagine giving control over my mind and body to another, but the completeness of his masculinity was intoxicating. It wasn’t long before I was spellbound by his magnetism and desperately wanting to please him however he wished. At over six feet, six inches tall with broad shoulders and a slim waist, Sir was a definitely my idea of a “man’s man.” He held a demanding but secretive top-level job with the government, and I often got the sense he could be a dangerous man if pushed too far.

I learned that being submissive was not a lack of strength but rather an exercise in complete control of one’s behavior and thoughts. When I was successfully in submissive “head space,” my senses were sharp, my focus was intense, and the pleasure was beyond what I thought imaginable. We were not “dating” in the traditional sense but rather joined by a sacred trust in our journey to the limits of pleasure.

Being submissive was not just wearing sexy lingerie and kneeling on the floor. When I signed the submissive contract Sir presented me when he agreed to take me on as a novice, I agreed to allow his guidance in all areas of my life. I had experienced limitations in my career as a massage therapist and relationships with men and often felt a lack of control, focus, and the respect I knew I deserved. I longed for a mentor to guide and protect me, to show me what I was doing wrong. I longed for the strength of mind and body possessed by a man who commanded the best. Little did I know I was longing for Sir.

The contract presentation came after a long application process. Sir was not going to spend his valuable time on just anyone and needed to know his guidance would be respected. I wrote essays about my life, showed Sir how I lived and spent my free time, and answered countless questions about my sexual soft and hard limitations. I had to think long and hard about those answers. How far would I go to please this man? Casting aside any judgments and preconceived notions, I soon found myself checking “yes” to anal sex, bisexual encounters, whipping, bondage, and fetishes I had never even heard of before. I was determined to test my boundaries and give Sir whatever he desired. Handing my body and soul over to him was like falling through delicious and exciting uncharted territory, and I gleefully stepped off the cliff.

By signing the contract, I agreed to Sir’s terms and conditions, and failure to comply would result in complete and total dissolution of our relationship. I had only just found him! I couldn’t let him slip away. I tucked my fears away and headed blindly into the unknown. I was completely committed yet fearful of what was to come. In turn, Sir agreed to spend the time and effort to guide me, test me, teach me, and pleasure me. It is not a small undertaking to be a Dominant, and I was honored to have been chosen by him.

As we pulled into the parking lot of the spectacular luxury hotel in Sir’s gleaming Mercedes, I beamed with excitement. Sir was so thoughtful and generous! Maybe we were going to have a gourmet dinner followed by dancing in his strong arms before training began? The anticipation of what lay ahead made me giddy with excitement. Sir turned to me and cradled my face gently with his hands as he spoke softly to me.

“You have done well, little one. I am so pleased with you. Tell me, slut, what is the only thing that matters to you when you are with me?”

“Your pleasure is all that matters, Sir.”

“Good. Don’t ever forget that.”

I waited in the passenger seat while Sir came around to open my door and extended his hand to help me out. Sir always treated me like a princess when we were in public. No one would ever suspect he also whipped me until my ass was raw then smeared his cum on my face. This little secret made me feel so powerful. If I could handle having hot wax dripped on my nipples, I could handle anything. So, you are going to give me shit at work for something trivial? Whatever. Last night, I was tied up, spanked, gagged, and fucked within an inch of my life. The petty interactions I encountered during my day were laughable now that I had found my own strength with the help of my darling Sir.