I finally got to start exploring my domme side, moving it from fantasy to reality.
Let’s call him Mat. He’d been pushing all day. A persistent cheekiness I recognised as an attempt to see how far he could push me, and whether I’d push back. I don’t really like being manipulated like that (even though it was done in a humorously mischievous and lovably forgivable way), and I think in future my response should be slightly different, but on this occasion I knew it was time to give him what he had been so obliquely asking for.
I had him kneel naked at my feet, and felt a sudden awareness of my power as he did so. As I held him there, I hesitated momentarily, wondering if I dared cross that invisible line, to raise my hand to him at last.
I ordered him over my knee then, the sofa long enough to hold him comfortably, and began to spank him. His bottom glowed a rosy red, and the gentle stinging of my hand kept me conscious of what I was doing to him. An intimate and gentle beginning.
Later he pushed again, this time I used the riding crop on him. Delighting in the lines it left on his buttocks. Watching his face buried in my pillow as his hips moved in response to each stroke. He was almost silent, with only the slightest of whimpers. My very good little boy.
What did it feel like?
I hurt him. Knowing what I was doing. Deliberately. Wanting his pain. And he accepted it. Enduring each stroke. Submissive. And he made it something beautiful. In that moment I became his. His Domme. And he became so much more to me than I can begin to describe.
An incredibly special moment.