A few times, I would just lay down like this and make Switch worship me. And read a book. Or check my email on my phone.
He always kept at it with sincere dedication. For as good he was at dominating me and how much he enjoyed making me submit to him, we both sort of knew that this was his favorite place.
Once, I made Switch watch me touch myself.
There were some rules: he had to keep his hands behind his head and kneel, he couldn’t speak unless spoken to, and if he looked at me too lewdly I’d stop and he would be in big trouble.
“You should just be happy Pretty’s letting you watch,” I chided when he huffed.
That made him straighten up in what I presumed was an attempt to gain some favor. “Yes, Pretty, thank you so much,” he stammered out.
I wanted to stay stern, but I just want to giggle when I make him nervous or see him blush. There’s just something about being able to crack someone just the teensiest bit.
I made a show of playing with myself to make it difficult for him. I sat on the bed right in front of him, legs spread, letting myself moan and gasp. I have to give the boy credit, he held still even when I eyefucked the living shit out of him and even when I turned around and leaned back against his chest and touched myself against him.
Unfortunately, I felt a little silly when I kept saying that I was going to get myself off on my own because I didn’t think he was worthy or capable of getting me off and then I wound up not being able to get myself off. I played it off like I was rewarding him when I let him take his hands off of his head and touch me, but I think he may have caught on. I just got myself entirely too worked up. When that happens, I need someone else to ground me, to take over and make me focus when I’m far too wound up in myself and how everything feels to be able to just get off.
So, I guess we both have little exploitable cracks that way.
“I think Pretty wants her pussy eaten now.”
The difficult part about punishing Switch is that he’s usually really into whatever the punishment is. The boy is crazy about eating pussy, so it’s not really that much of a disciplinary tactic. It’s the same problem I have. Punishments are easily just mean rewards.
He tugged my shorts down and went for my panties next. When his fingers looped under the waist, I had a thought and slapped his hands away. “No, I don’t think you’ve earned that.” I spread my legs over his shoulders, “over the panties. Bad boys don’t get Pretty’s pussy.”
Resigned, he licked through the lace with this terribly earnest expression on his face. He wanted to be good for me. And, usually being a submissive myself, I could understand completely what he was going through and appreciate it.
“Okay, fine, you win,” I muttered after a few minutes and pulled my panties aside.
I guess I’m just a little bit of a pushover.
“Woah,” Switch murmured one time after eating my pussy. I had dominated him and made him go down on me for quite a while. The look on his face made him seem like he’d been through a deluge. “I really got into that. Like woah.”
I smiled and laid back. “That’s because Pretty’s pussy is magical.”
“Clearly,” he chuckled, “I used to doubt, but now I believe.”
So, some of you have been asking why I only seem to post about Switch dominating me. One, I haven’t had much time to sit down and write out what we’ve been up to. Two, gosh, I don’t know, it still makes me blush a lot.
I’ll fill the air by saying that I’m sometimes surprised how easy it is for me to dominate someone. I find submitting much more rewarding, but dominating comes fairly natural to me. While there have been a few teensy hiccups, I think I can attribute my success to having seen it from the other side and being able to discern what works and what more or less doesn’t.
Also, I may just be really, really mean. Because, it’s sort of funny. My persona when I dominate is always vaguely amused. I laugh a lot. I speak sweetly, I tease. It might be the fact that he could probably kick the crap out of me for half the stuff I say to him and doesn’t. And that’s control on the part of both involved parties.
I think the best way to describe what I’m like when I’m on top is vaguely within the lines of what some people describe as a babydomme. The word “Daddy” never comes into play, but my voice is almost always sweet, I giggle a lot, it all comes off a little bit precious. I think it’s that, honestly, with my size, I’d look a little absurd if I were yelling or too overtly cruel. And I’m plenty cruel, I just do it with some giggles thrown in. Which, honestly, may just be a little crueler.
So, yes, I’ll get to stories. I promise. You’ll all find out how positively mean I am.
On Friday, we crossed a few boundaries with each other. Not disastrously, but Switch and I both sort of took the dominant role too far in an effort to please the other. As a result, we both wound up with a little bit of overkill on the cruelty end of dominating something. Fortunately, this wasn’t irreparable.
We talked a little bit about it afterwards to check in and neither of us were completely shattered. In fact, we’d both enjoyed it, but knew there were a few problematic things lingering that had gone on. Mostly, this was in reference to a few acts of degradation that I had put him through and then a few he had put me through. They were just maybe a bit too degrading.
But then last night we actually sat down and discussed the nitty gritty of limits, boundaries, etc. We developed a safe word that works both ways. We admitted our mistakes.
And then we had a really awesome night.
Meet Switch, Part Eight
One minute in and he was literally panting. He kept tensing harder to keep from moving. He was soaking precum through his boxers by two minutes. The entire time he was just begging.
I just watched the clock. Intermittently, I reassured him that he was being a good boy, that he was making Pretty so, so proud. I reused phrases I knew worked on me when I was being denied. I used a few unique ones.
“You want to make Pretty happy, don’t you?” I asked him at thirty seconds before time would be up, when he was just about losing it. “You’re so close, don’t fail me now, baby. That would be sad.”
He gritted his teeth and took it. It’s strange to me that in this moment of weakness and submission I figured him to be stronger than I’d ever considered him. It was in how resolute he was being, in how hard he was sincerely trying to please me.
His cock practically hit me in the face when I leaned down and pulled down his boxers. He moved when I put him in my mouth, letting a hand settle in my hair. But, I wasn’t cruel enough to take his reward away. He’d earned it well.
Meet Switch, Part Seven
Eventually, I got a little mean.
I took his clothes off slowly, his shirt first. I licked and bit over his skin. I made him shiver. I told him to be a good boy and hold still for me. I told him not to disappoint me, he wouldn’t want that.
I felt a little absurd. I’m much smaller than him. I have to stand on my toes to kiss him. He can hold me down fairly easily, he can overpower me pretty effortlessly.
I felt even sillier when he called me Mistress. I felt uncomfortable when he called me Ma’am (it’s what SG calls his mother). I felt like a teacher when he said Miss.
And so I took a page from Heart.
“You’re going to call me Pretty. Capital P, proper fucking noun,” I yanked his pants off.
He didn’t hesitate, “yes, Pretty.”
I sat down on his thighs and traced my finger over his cock through his boxers. He shivered. “All worked up, huh?” I grinned.
“Yes, Pretty,” he said again.
I kept his boxers on and started a slow sweep of two fingers up and down his cock. His body tensed, his hands curled into fists. I’m sure it was partially to keep from grabbing me and pushing my face into his crotch. There was something undeniably erotic about that sort of personal restraint. “Bet you want me to take it out, huh?”
“Please, Pretty,” he groaned out. I wasn’t sure if he was using it as my nickname or as an adjective when he added, “pretty please.”
I shrugged, “I don’t know, I sort of like playing like this.” I kept at slowly running my fingers up and down his cock, experimenting with the pressure through his boxers. “Tell you what? Hold still for three minutes and I’ll take your cock out.”
Switch stared up at the ceiling and sucked in a deep breath. It was going to be a long three minutes.
Meet Switch, Part Six
Eventually, he let me get off again and allowed me to go put a t-shirt on to get my composure back and use the bathroom. While washing my hands, I managed to get a look at myself in the mirror. The rain had soaked my hair and it had tried naturally, in these big, thick waves and curls. I normally straighten my hair or at least dry it straight. With my hair tousled this way, gosh, I don’t know, I felt like I was in rare form. I looked feral.
I decided I wanted to top him.
I walked back into his bedroom and he smiled and went to say something, but I cut him off. “Why the hell are you still wearing clothes?” I was nervous to do this. I’d never really done it before. He raised his hands to unbutton his shirt and I shook my head. “Did I say you could take them off? Lie down.” I pointed to the bed.
He got onto the bed and I climbed on after him. I had no idea what I was doing and I suppose he noticed, because he grabbed me by the hips and pulled me onto his face. It was the first time I’d ever sat on anyone’s face before, I’d always taken cunnilingus lying down. The position seemed to motivate me to keep at attempting to dom him.
I picked up tricks fast: breathplay through cutting off his mouth and nose with my body, teasing my lips over his mouth, pulling his hair to egg him on. I kept it up for a while, telling him he was a good boy and somehow getting used to the sound of myself saying that, even when it sounded incredibly foreign the first time it left my mouth. I slapped his hands away when he reached up to touch my breasts.
“Did I tell you that you could do that?” I reached down and buried his face in my cunt. I could barely recognize myself.