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sensual delights upon submissive lovestory
My Dear Thomas,

I received the letter expressing your curiosity as to my new "lifestyle". People may offer such kindness' that are truly cruel, so why not a cruelty that is perhaps kind? Some sweet pain that is longed for, wanted, craved for. If it was asked of you, knowing that is it desired, would you, could you, deliver? Could you fathom that what you may consider to be painful, demeaning, or shocking, might simply be another's pleasure? There are those whose very happiness comes from submission, to bend themselves to another's will and whim, without a thought to what it is they are being asked to do – but only that they will do it. Your pleasure is their pleasure; their satisfaction is the result of your gratification. To serve becomes their ritual, their worship, and who of you would not be pleased by a faithful heart and body splayed and ready to play by your rules? But, I do not need to ruminate upon such things to you really, do I?

My musing upon such matters, as you recall, at first surprised me - that I actually derived some strange amusement and arousal while perusing books, magazines, and movies that portrayed various BDSM themes shocked me. The thought that there may be someone out there who would want for nothing more that to be mine, to obey me, to kneel before me, to lay themselves at my feet, trusting me and offering me all of their being. I grew giddy with anticipation. And, again, surprisingly, it was not difficult to find. I found that I took to it like a natural – bossy and demanding came as easily as breathing. Oh, and the contentment, the bliss I derived from my various subs was astounding. I went through many, like tasting every flavour I could find – some experienced and some not, teaching them, and learning from them. My weekends were filled with adventure and exploration.

Finally, I found myself in a state of mind that was that of wanting more – I wanted more than weekend escapades. I wanted a slave, a loyal companion who would not return to the "regular grind" on Sunday evening wearing their submission like a mask to be removed when the game was over. I didn't want the game to be over. It would not be a simple thing. It may sound deliciously luxurious to have someone bow to your every delight and demand, but there is much work involved. I certainly understand your tension and tiredness that I caught glimpse of on the very rare occasion.

I have learned you must gain your sub's respect, you must care for, nurture, educate, train, and eventually, even in some little way, love your sub. You must have something to offer them besides cruelty; otherwise you are only a tyrant, a ruler by fear. It is an art, an exercise in elegance – to be able to combine cruelty with a kindness until it becomes a temperate blend of sensation, sensual and satisfying. It requires intelligence, thoughtfulness, insight, awareness, and openness. You must be able to listen to your sub, and hear what they ask you for. Control. This is what it is about. Your sub lovingly and trustingly gives up the majority of their control to you. You become the major power holder. A bit of a twist really – the control still lays with you both – yet is momentarily relinquished – loaned if you will. And, you must not return it ruined, or destroyed, or tainted in any way – except exceptionally. Exquisitely.

And, I had managed to find myself just that. I was now the proud "owner" of a beautiful man slave. Charming, intelligent, erotic, and willing to please me in every way, Ivan is a delight. Our day always begins with the simplest rituals of pleasure. He brings me my Americano in the morning, along with the paper, so that I might linger a bed a while longer. I then rise to have him wrap me in my black silk dressing gown, and I grant him a kiss. I grab his cock for a short moment, giving it a little squeeze and smiling lovingly at him. That smile holds many promises, always a hint of what is to come. Which of course, will all depend on his behavior for the day, and my mood. My whim.

It is now that I will lay out the clothes he is to wear for the day, by my choosing. I will then go and shower, getting dressed myself, and after arrive in the kitchen only to have a light breakfast prepared by my willing man. We both have plenty of responsibilities, we are the two sides of one coin and each must fulfill our roles. I must remain in control and keep a reign on Ivan. This is what he loves. And, there are plenty of things he must do, these things he does to bring me pleasure, and to show his dedication. In return, I provide him with a sublime cruelty that is wonderfully kind.

When I arrive home in the evenings, dinner is best prepared and I set myself about to relaxing. Should I be pleased with him for the day, then he will be pleased in the evening. (I must admit it is a rare occasion that Ivan disappoints, and secretly, at times I wish he would, but that is a different kind of dynamic now, isn't it?) I will take him into the room we have designed together for the ultimate in painful pleasure. And, there I will let my creativity flow as I devise method after method for inflicting sensual delights upon my submissive love. Tonight I think I will violate him until he is moaning and pleading. Of course, that will be the climax after a good work out. I will see that Ivan has done all that has been asked of him. That the house is properly clean, that the chores I have laid out for him in the morning are complete, all of this I will ensure. He is given plenty of time that is his own to do with as he pleases. Does he work you will ask – yes, for me. And, he has every amenity he requires, and more.

And, yes, he is faithful to me, the only other sexual encounters being those gifts I might bestow upon him, such as when I entertain a few well chosen friends, before whom I may have the urge to show him off and perhaps even share him. Or, should we wish to see the subs at play for our entertainment, then that may occur as well.

It may sound rather like a woman having an old fashioned housewife, and I suppose it may be somewhat so, in a rather chauvinistic kind of way. Although, Ivan does have his own room, there are nights he is invited to stay in my bed, and they are well earned as well. But, let me tell you – I do not have to argue with Ivan over household expenses, I do not have to coax, or plead with him to take out the garbage, or any other so-called menial task. If I ask him to please me – it is his pleasure to do so. I come first for Ivan, and Ivan comes first for me. All that is asked of him he does with a sense of duty. He is quite formal, my Ivan. And, this I enjoy as well. We engage in intelligent discussion, enjoy pleasant time together, as well as the intensity we engage in. It is not a game. It is an honest display of submission and domination. I am sharp and tough, but I am also generous and nurturing. But, I also want exactly what I want. And, Ivan is willing to provide just that. So long as he is willing, and I am well aware of my wishes, we shall get along fine.

This is all old hat to you I am sure, but you did say you have always enjoyed my jottings, my written thoughts. But, also I am sure you would also be much interested in the more sordid of details. I know you well enough to know that by know you are anticipating some of the more intimate details of our "play".

Ivan is very willing, and his hunger drives him to relinquish himself to me totally. He rather enjoys pain. And, I, I have discovered, rather enjoy inflicting it. I will bring him into our playroom, and I will bind him artfully with the skillful knots I have learned. Tonight, I had chosen to bind him in a fetal type position – his arms bound behind his back while he knelt face down on the floor. This allows me uninterrupted access to his cock and balls, which I also bound so as to increase the throbbing and pulsating sensations he experiences as he grows harder and harder with anticipation. I have placed screw clamps upon his nipples, which grow angry and red in response, but my beautiful Ivan only moans more, pleading and sighing, breathing in and out his pleasure in gasps. With these few sensations to begin – I then slap or spank, whichever strikes me, I use him up. I lift him up with subtle sensations of aching and sharp stabs of pain. His body is tense, hard all over, strung like a piano string. And, oh, the wonderful music he makes in response to my fingers, teeth, tongue, and hands all over him. You can see and feel and smell the satisfaction such sweet abuse brings to him. I quiver silently inside with the satisfaction it brings to me, to pluck at him – my human instrument. I place my hand under his chin and lift him this way so I may look into his deep blue eyes. His is filled with longing. I can taste it. His cock drips with anticipation. Ready, the arousal rising like a fire inside of me, I bring him to standing position, and I place a binding bar on his ankle restraints, so the he is spread with welcoming for me. His hands are placed upon a carved wooden bench that is placed to the right of the room. He licks at my gloves – hungry to taste me. So, I give him a little. I sit myself upon the table and spread my thigh high leather clad legs wide so that Ivan can bow his head to my pussy and pay due homage. He laps greedily, his tongue flicking and his mouth sucking, trying to take as much as he can from me. I lean and kiss him. And, then I slide down from the table, grabbing a good-sized black leather strap from the vast array of toys hanging upon the wall. I tease his buttocks with it dangling as I strap it on myself. Lubing up his behind, I trail my fingers around his asshole and slowly push one in and out. He is already pushing at me, his asshole relaxed and puckering. He is ready. I slowly slide the cock into his ass. We move slowly, screwing our hips, the both us, to a gentle rhythm. But, he begins to buck and so I begin to thrust harder and faster. He will come for me like this. His arms strain at the rope holding them behind his back. All of Ivan's muscles have grown taut – you can see them rippling and pulsing as I slap myself against him. But, I would not let him cum so soon. I growl at him to slow down and save himself. There is more to come. He is so ripe he will spill at any moment. But, I do not allow him. He will cum when I tell him to.

I stand him and move him against the wall where I free his arms from behind him so I may attach them to the slates of wood that adorn the wall horizontally. His legs spread and arms - he looks like a human star against the wooden wall. I grasp his balls with hands and squeeze. A little harder and harder, I can feel those hard balls within the folds of skin. I trace my other hand of long fingernails across his chest. Scraping around in circle – I pull at the nipple clamps. Ivan has the most sensitive nipples I have seen in a man. His jaw is set in determination to hold out for as much as he can take.

I reach a hand round and shove my fingers in his ass, while still gripping his balls with my other. I move the hand and begin to stroke at his throbbing shaft, moving slowly, milking him. Finally, he can take no more. I see the sweat and the tears begin to fall about his handsome face. I smile at him. I kiss him and lean in to trail my tongue across his neck and over his ear, whispering, now! He shakes and I stroke faster and harder and Ivan shoots his cum in spurts that fling out and fall upon the tiled floor. His entire body convulses and his legs begin to quiver. I allow him to fall forward slightly upon me. I caress him. I untie him slowly, while running my hands all over his hot and spent body. He is like a child, trying to bury himself in my arms. He has earned my bed tonight. And, that will be another pleasure for us both. My magnificent Ivan will have no problems rising again to the occasion to please me before I fell asleep.

So, my dear Thomas, you see you have taught me well. All that time past spent offering myself up totally to you has given me a plethora of plenty in return. All the time you spent teaching me to pay attention, to listen, to do as told - to be disciplined, this has become an asset, I having switched sides now, so to speak.

Again, I offer my apologies for my rebellion. I know now that you were more aware of the cloth I was cut from, and am ever thankful for you for showing me. Such a discovery as you allowed, and as you forgave, has been invaluable, priceless. Much happier, I am much more satiated as the sadist. Although, I suppose I cannot help but understand the masochist. Yet, do not think though, that there are not times that I long for your strong hands guiding me as they once lovingly did. Perhaps, you will have to come and visit us.

With warmest regards,


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