Becoming a Dom

With her hair gripped tight in my hand, her back pressed into the wall, I fucked her hard, that mess of red hair spilling over my hand like lava. My hard cock slamming into her dripping wet pussy making wet slapping sounds. She tried to stifle her moans but all it did was make her whimper loudly in that small little closet for a room. By the time I felt the cum building up in my balls I was almost sure someone had heard us. With a final thrust I dumped my cum deep inside of her tight pussy. I grinned as I let her down and no sooner did her feet touch the ground was she on her knees to clean off my cock. Once she was done she said submissively, “Thank you, Master”

Things where not always like this you know. Becoming a Dom is a journey taken by many but completed by few, unfortunately there are far too many that claim the title unjustly. However, I’m here to tell you of my journey. You can believe me or not, call the story I tell just that, a story or you can take it for fact. Either way, I think you’ll enjoy this piece of work.

When I first began, like any good Dom I tried to find a mentor. Unfortunately, that as a lot easier said than done. At least where I lived finding -anyone- even remotely interested in BDSM was practically unheard of. The only outlets for my ‘taboo’ interests was online in chat groups, books and my own head. Trying to get an honest base out of that is kind of difficult. But all hope was not lost, I was able to find a rope tying class. Now, I’ve found that rope bondage is my favorite thing, it is so very flexible yet so very strong. I practiced endlessly on my knots until I had each one memorized to perfection. Next step was to find someone I could practice on. Again, finding people where I lived is stupid hard. Luckily, there was that fateful day…

The leaves where dry and brittle, crunching under my gortex army combat boots. Wearing black jeans, my favorite black button down tee with a white tee underneath. Standing at six foot five and built like a linemen, the last thing I was afraid of was anything happening to me as I made my way along the path through the trees. I had been invited to this girls party. Supposedly we where having a bonfire somewhere back in her massive yard. I had heard there might be rain so I had grabbed my duffel bag of rope and a tarp.

Before long I saw a flash of fire, obviously -someone- used gasoline to start the fire…damn idiots. I’d done too much camping and fire starting to even need gas to start a fire, my way was much safer. When i got to the site of the bonfire i counted three people and assorted camp chairs. “Well that’s one way to get me to find the place.”

Marlene, the hostess, pointed towards Greg “He said he was just gonna start it, not try to kill us.”

Greg, a kid I knew from a few parties, grinned sheepishly and shrugged, “Hey, at least its going now right?”

True enough it was blazing away illuminating Doug Travalon on the other side, another guy I knew but not too well, everyone called him DT though. He smirked at the banter, “I told them to wait for you but Greg wanted to make sure you found the place alright.”

I tossed down the duffel and the tarp a little bit off from the fire, “Hey, you guys help me out with this tarp.”

DT and Greg came over and helped me spread it out while Marlene stacked up some more wood for the fire. When I opened the duffel I pulled out some twine, the real rough stuff for this kind of out doors work. My BDSM rope, the soft nylon was safely tucked away in the bag in its chain knot to keep it untangled. In not time I had a series of ties done up, bondage ties, that made the tarp rise up and stretch out when I pulled on a single string. With it secured I went back to the fire. Marlene handed us all some beer with a sexy smile. “So, where is everyone else?” I had asked.

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