My Goddess - Sex Stories

My Goddess

... BDSM came around. I stated that I loved being Dom, watching my innocent sub writhe underneath me. Me too! I can be either Dom or Sub, I love both. I stared at the screen, overjoyed that you and I shared the same sexual preferences. On the other hand… I wondered what it would be like to be a sub. I had always been the one to punish, to call my partner “whore” or “slut”. I wondered what it would feel like to be the vulnerable one, to be completely at your mercy, to do anything you ask, as soon as you ask it. My hand trembled slightly as I sent my next text: Do you think… do you think you could be my Dom? I’ve never been a sub, I kind of want to see what it’s like… I sent the text, and stared at the screen for what seemed like an eternity. The time stamps moved from “Just Now” to “One Minute”. No fucking way, I thought to myself. It’s been at least ten minutes! Maybe I should… The phone buzzed. My heart pounded so loud, I could hear it in my ears. I slowly turned over my phone to look at the message. Yes baby boy. You can be my pet. To this day, that’s still the best text message I’ve ever received. ***** Present Day. Today is the first time we’re going to meet after you agreed to be my Dom. I’m so nervous, I can’t concentrate on anything. I keep looking at my phone, even though we’re not meeting for another five hours. For the past couple days it’s been almost non-stop sexual texting. We sexted two nights in a row and both ended with explosive orgasms I couldn’t control. I ...

... call you “miss”, or “goddess” after every message I send, and you choose between “baby” and “baby boy”. But when things get more sexual… the names all change. “Slut” and “dirty whore” are your favourites for me, while I usually stick with “fuck master” and “khaleesi” (I’m a Game of Thrones nerd, what can I say?) Now we’re going to meet, and… I honestly can’t say I have any idea what’s going to happen. I picked out skinny jeans, my tight black t-shirt, and my leather jacket. I apply just enough gel and spend at least twenty minutes on my hair; considering it usually takes me under two, this is a big deal. I brush my teeth and use mouth wash, and smile at myself in the mirror. Okay just breathe. She’s still the same person. She’ll still like you. Maybe she’ll want to be Dom in person, maybe not, but you just. Have. To. Breathe. I check my hair one last time and take another deep breath. I grab my keys and walk to my car, heart pounding and nerves jumping. I drive to your house and stay parked outside for a few minutes, trying to get up the nerve to go inside. My phone buzzes and I expect it to be my boss, asking where I am, but instead my heart stops beating when I see your name in my notification bar. Is that you outside baby boy? I hesitantly write back, replying: Yes… miss. The front door opens and you come out, wearing the beautiful blue dress that you showed me on Kik a few days ago. I get out of my car and open the passenger door, and you step inside. I get in the driver’s ...