In the sprawling landscape of human desire, there exists a territory that is as controversial as it is intriguing. This is the realm of submission, where the conventional rules of power and control are bent and utterly reimagined. Today, we delve into the story of one man’s journey into this shadowy domain, where his curiosity led him to explore the most taboo corners of his psyche and body.
Meet Thomas, a man in his mid-thirties whose life, on the surface, appears as vanilla as they come. But beneath that unassuming exterior, there simmered a desire that was anything but ordinary. Thomas was consumed by a curiosity that was as taboo as it was compelling—he wanted to taste himself and consume his essence.
The Spark
It began as a mere flicker of a thought, a fleeting curiosity that would have been easy to dismiss. But Thomas found that once the idea had taken root, it refused to be ignored. He remembered the first time he’d considered it; he’d been in the shower, his body slick with soap and water, his hand moving in a rhythm as old as time. As he reached his climax, he’d looked down at the evidence of his pleasure and wondered… what would it taste like?
The question nagged at him, a constant hum in the back of his mind. He tried to push it away, to dismiss it as a silly whim, but it refused to be silenced. And so, one evening, after a particularly intense session of self-love, Thomas tentatively dipped his finger into the pool of his desire and brought it to his lips.
The taste was unexpected. It was salty, yes, but a bitterness surprised him. It was earthy, raw, and utterly unlike anything he’d ever tasted. It was… him. He found the experience exhilarating, a thrilling dive into the forbidden. But little did he know that this was just the beginning of his journey into the unknown.
The Descent
As days turned into weeks, Thomas drew further into this new world of sensation. He began to collect his essence, hoarding it like a precious commodity. He experimented with it, tasting it in different states and exploring the nuances of its flavor. He found that his taste changed with his diet, mood, and arousal intensity. It was a symphony of taste, a dance of the senses that was as intoxicating as addictive.
But as he delved deeper into this taboo indulgence, Thomas found that his taste buds were not the only ones being stimulated. Something else, something darker, stirred in the depths of his psyche. With each taste, he felt a shift, a subtle relinquishing of control. He was not just consuming his essence; he was submitting to it.
The Awakening
As Thomas sat before his collection one evening, a strange sensation washed over him. It was a sense of surrender, a yielding of power. He found that consuming his essence was not just about the taste but the humiliation. It was about the debasement, the degradation, the sheer wrongness of it all. And he found that he craved it.
Thomas began to incorporate this newfound desire into his sessions. He would stand before the mirror, his body naked and vulnerable, his essence dripping and glistening on his skin. He would watch as he collected it, his eyes never leaving his reflection, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in anticipation. And then, he would consume it, his eyes locked onto his own, his body shivering with a potent mix of humiliation and arousal.
The taste was always the same, yet always different. It was him, his essence, his very being. But it was also a symbol of his submission, a physical manifestation of his desire to yield. He found that he craved this humiliation, this debasement. He yearned for the feeling of giving up control, of surrendering to his deepest, darkest desires.
As time went on, Thomas began to explore this newfound kink further. He started incorporating other elements into his play, each designed to heighten his sense of submission. He would bind himself, his wrists tied securely behind his back, his ankles shackled to the legs of the chair. He would gag himself, his mouth filled with a silicone cock, his saliva dripping onto his chest as he moaned around the intrusion. And then, he would bring himself to climax, his body writhing in its restraints, his pleasure heightened by his helplessness.
Consuming his essence became a ritual, a sacred ceremony of sorts. He would kneel before his collection, his body naked and prepared. He would take his time, savoring each drop, each taste a testament to his submission. He would swallow it down, his throat working to accept his offering, his body shivering with the sheer wrongness of it all. And he would feel alive, more alive than he’d ever felt before.
Thomas found that his desire for submission was not confined to consuming his essence. It began to seep into other aspects of his life, a dark tendril that wrapped around his psyche, pulling him further into the abyss. He found himself craving more, needing more. He wanted to explore the depths of his submission, to push the boundaries of his desire.
He started to experiment with pain, using it as a tool to heighten his senses, to draw him deeper into his body. He would pinch his nipples, the sharp sting sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to his groin. He would slap his balls, the impact causing his body to jerk his breath to catch in his throat. He would spank himself, his ass reddening under his harsh touch, his body writhing with each strike. And through it all, he would feel alive, his body a canvas of sensation, his mind a symphony of submission.
However, as Thomas delved deeper into his desires, he found something missing. He yearned for something he could not quite put his finger on. He wanted to be pushed further, harder, deeper. He wanted to be taken to the edge, forced to look into the abyss. And he realized that he could not do it alone.
He needed someone else, someone who could take control, who could push him to his limits. He needed a dominant, someone who could guide him on this journey, who could help him explore the depths of his submission. The thought was terrifying, but it was also exhilarating. It was a new step, a new level of vulnerability. And he craved it.
Thomas turned to the Internet, scouring forums and websites, searching for someone to give him what he needed. He was nervous, his heart pounding as he typed out his first tentative message. But as the replies started to trickle in, he felt a sense of calm wash over him. He was not alone, not in this desire or need. There were others like him, others who understood, others who could help.
After weeks of conversation, Thomas found himself drawn to one particular dominant woman, Mistress Lily. She was everything he had imagined and more. She was strong, confident, and commanding, her presence alone enough to make him feel weak in the knees. She was experienced, and her lifestyle knowledge was evident in every word she spoke. And she was beautiful, her eyes piercing, her smile cruel, her body a work of art.
Their first session was a whirlwind of sensation. Thomas had prepared himself as instructed, his body naked and shaved, his essence collected and ready. He knelt before her, his eyes downcast, his heart pounding. He felt her eyes on him, her gaze like a physical touch, a caress that sent shivers down his spine. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly at her mercy. And he loved it.
Mistress Lily circled him, her heels clicking on the floor, and her scent filled his nostrils. She ran a hand through his hair, her touch firm, her grip tightening as she tugged his head back, forcing him to look up at her. She smiled, her lips curving cruelly, her eyes gleaming with a dark promise.
“You want to taste yourself, don’t you, pet?” she murmured, her voice a low purr. Thomas nodded, his mouth dry, his body trembling with anticipation. She chuckled, her fingers tightening in his hair, sending a sharp sting across his scalp.
“Well, let’s see what we have here,” she said, releasing his hair and crouching before him. She dipped a finger into his collection, her eyes never leaving his as she brought it to her lips, sucking it clean. Thomas watched, his breath catching as she hummed in appreciation.
“Delicious,” she declared, her lips curving into a smile. “But I think it’s time you had a taste, don’t you?”
Thomas nodded, his body shivering with a mix of nervousness and excitement. Mistress Lily stood, towering over him, her presence dominating. She dipped her fingers into his essence once more, but this time, she brought them to his lips, painting them with his desire.
“Lick,” she commanded, her voice sharp. Thomas obeyed, his tongue darting out to taste himself. The flavor was familiar, yet different, heightened by the intensity of the moment, by the presence of Mistress Lily. He moaned, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the taste, the humiliation, the submission.
Mistress Lily chuckled, her fingers tracing the outline of his lips and smearing his essence across his skin. “Look at you,” she murmured. Kneeling there, tasting yourself, your body shaking with need. You’re pathetic, aren’t you, pet? A desperate, needy little thing.”
Thomas nodded, his eyes downcast, his body trembling with the weight of her words. He felt the truth in her words and the depth of his submission. He was pathetic, desperate, and needy, and he wanted more.
Mistress Lily seemed to sense his need, his desire for more. She reached down, her fingers wrapping around his shaft, her touch firm and sure. She stroked him, her rhythm slow and steady, her grip tightening as she brought him to the edge of his climax. But just as he was about to tip over, she stopped, her hand stilling, her grip tightening almost painfully.
“Not yet, pet,” she murmured, her voice a low purr. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”
Thomas groaned, his body shaking with the effort of holding back his release. He felt the sweat beading on his forehead, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He felt the desperation clawing at his insides, the need to surrender, let go and give in to the inevitable. But he held on, his body tense, his mind focused on the command of his Mistress.
Mistress Lily smiled, her eyes gleaming with cruel delight. Leaning down, her breath hot on his ear, she whispered, “Good boy. You’re learning. But let’s see how much you can take.”
She reached behind him, her fingers tracing the curve of his spine, sending shivers down his body. She dipped a finger into his essence once more, her touch slick and cool against his heated skin. Then, she brought it lower, tracing the cleft of his ass, circling the tight pucker of his entrance.
Thomas tensed, his body instinctively resisting the intrusion. But Mistress Lily was insistent, her finger pressing against him, her touch firm and unyielding. She leaned down, her voice a low growl in his ear. “Relax, pet. Let me in.”
Thomas took a deep breath, his body slowly relaxing under her touch. He felt her finger slip inside him, the intrusion burning, stretching, filling him. He groaned, his body clenching around the invasion, his mind reeling with the sensation.
Mistress Lily chuckled, her finger moving inside him, her touch sending waves of pleasure-pain coursing through his body. “Look at you,” she murmured, “Your body taking my finger, your essence dripping from your cock. You’re a mess, pet. A desperate, needy mess.”
Thomas moaned, his body writhing under her touch, his mind a whirlwind of sensation. He felt the humiliation, the degradation, the sheer wrongness of it all. And he loved it. He loved the feeling of being used, taken, and filled. He loved the sense of submission, surrender, and giving up control.
Mistress Lily seemed to sense his thoughts, his feelings, his desires. She leaned down, her voice a low murmur in his ear. “You want more, don’t you, pet? You want to be filled, to be used, to be fucked.”
Thomas nodded, his body shaking with the intensity of his need. Mistress Lily smiled, her eyes gleaming with a dark promise. She straightened up, her finger slipping out of him, leaving him empty, hollow, incomplete.
She reached into her bag, her eyes never leaving his as she pulled out a strap-on, the silicone cock thick and imposing. Thomas’s eyes widened, his body tensing at the sight of it. He felt a flicker of fear, of uncertainty, of doubt. But he also felt a surge of desire, need, and want.
Mistress Lily smiled, her eyes gleaming with a cruel delight. She stepped into the harness, her movements slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving his. She lubricated the cock, her touch slick and sure, her gaze holding his, her smile cruel and promising.
” She’s going to fuck you, pet,” she murmured, her voice a low purr. “She’s going to fill that tight little ass of yours, stretch you, use you, make you feel every inch of her cock.”
Thomas whimpered, his body trembling with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. He felt Mistress Lily’s hands on his hips, her touch firm, her grip tightening as she positioned him, guiding him onto his hands and knees. He felt exposed, vulnerable, his ass presented to her, his body at her mercy.
Mistress Lily ran a hand over his back, her touch soothing, her voice a soft murmur. “Relax, pet. Let me in. Let me fuck you.”
Thomas took a deep breath, his body slowly relaxing under her touch. He felt the head of the cock pressing against him, the intrusion burning, stretching, filling him. He groaned, his body clenching around the invasion, his mind reeling with the sensation.
Mistress Lily moved slowly, her hips thrusting gently, her cock sliding deeper into him with each movement. She leaned over him, her body covering his, her breath hot on his ear as she murmured, “That’s it, pet. Please take it. Take my cock. Feel me fucking you, filling you, using you.”
Thomas moaned, his body writhing under her, his mind a whirlwind of sensation. He felt the burn of the intrusion, the stretch of his body, the fullness of his ass. He felt the humiliation, the degradation, the sheer wrongness of it all. And he loved it. He loved the feeling of being used, of being taken, of being fucked.
Mistress Lily’s thrusts grew faster, harder, deeper. She gripped his hips, her fingers digging into his flesh, her body slapping against his. She leaned down, her voice a low growl in his ear. “You’re mine, pet. Your body is mine; your pleasure and pain are mine. You exist for my amusement, satisfaction, and desire.”
Thomas moaned, his body clenching around the cock inside him, his mind surrendering to the dominance of his Mistress. He felt the truth in her words and the depth of his submission. He was hers, her toy, her plaything, her pet.
Mistress Lily reached around, her fingers wrapping around his shaft, her touch firm and sure. She stroked him, her rhythm matching the thrusts of her hips, her grip tightening as she brought him to the edge of his climax.
“Come for me, pet,” she commanded, her voice sharp. “Come for me like the needy little slut you are. Show me your desire, your submission, your surrender.”
Thomas cried out, his body convulsing as his release washed over him. He felt the waves of pleasure coursing through his body, his cock pulsing in Mistress Lily’s grip, his ass clenching around the cock inside him. He felt the humiliation, the degradation, the sheer intensity of his submission. And he loved it.
Mistress Lily smiled, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she watched him come undone. She slowed her thrusts, her cock sliding gently inside him, her touch soothing, her voice a soft murmur.
“Good boy, pet. Good boy.”
As Thomas came down from his high, his body shaking with the aftershocks of his release, Mistress Lily slipped out of him, her cock glistening with his shame and arousal. She ran her fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, tugging his head back just enough to ensure he looked up at her. His eyes were glazed, his lips parted, his entire body spent—but she wasn’t done with him yet.
“Look at you,” she purred, amusement laced in her voice. “Such a filthy little thing, dripping with your own need. Do you finally understand your place, pet?”
Thomas nodded weakly, his breath still uneven, his body trembling in the aftermath. He didn’t need to speak. His surrender was written all over him.
Mistress Lily stood, wiping her cock against his cheek before gripping his chin, forcing him to hold still. “Clean up your mess,” she ordered.
Without hesitation, he obeyed, his tongue lapping eagerly, the taste of his degradation making his cock twitch despite his exhaustion. She chuckled, clearly pleased with his obedience.
“Good boy,” she praised, her fingers trailing down his jaw, sending shivers through his oversensitive body. “You’ve pleased me tonight. Perhaps I’ll allow you to sleep in my bed… if you prove you deserve it.”
Thomas swallowed hard, his body stirring again despite the exhaustion weighing him down. He knew what that meant—his training wasn’t over yet.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.