Stories by Gwen

She looked up at me, her cheeks smeared with mascara and tears. "I know you love me and you want the best for me," she said. "You would rather caress me than slap me like that." I grimaced. It's true. I would much rather thrill her with my tongue on her sex than apply the lash to her pretty ass. I've told her as much. Many times. "The fact that you brutalize me with straps and fists is proof of your love," she said. "I know it's the last thing you want to do, that it feels unnatural and wrong to you. But you do it because I need it, because you love me so much you want me to have that experience. And you wouldn't trust anyone who loves me less to give it to me." I hadn't thought of it that way, but she was right. I wouldn't trust anyone else to do it. It was, in a peculiar way, evidence of love. "So you beat me. And every blow hurts you more than it hurts me." Yes, sweet girl. Yes. It does. ...

Gwen is coming to town. For two or three weeks, it's all I can think about. Gwen is coming. I'm counting the days. Finally the big day arrives. She invites me to meet her at her hotel - the same luxury business hotel where she always stays. She always gets a big suite on the floor reserved for frequent travelers. I park in the lot and make my way through the lobby. I announce myself to the concierge on Gwen's floor, who checks a list before directing me to a door at the end of the hall. I press the button and hear a musical chime. The door opens and Gwen is there. I am always surprised, in person, to be taller than Gwen. Her virtual presence is larger than life. I guess that's natural, given the nature of our relationship. Gwen is dominant, I am submissive. I get pleasure from being told what to do, from being or doing or experiencing whatever Gwen decides. She gets pleasure, she says, from controlling me, from treating me like an object, a sex toy to be used however s...

It's a country town and the traveler is just passing through. That's what she tells herself. She drives slowly down a narrow street on the wrong side of town, scanning storefronts for a number she's written on the scrap of paper she clutches against the wheel. It's the kind of town that always thought it would get bigger. The town square is ringed with empty storefronts. A wide bridge spans the rushing water of a mountain stream. A lone stoplight presides over the junction of Main Street with the two-lane county highway that got her here. Farm trucks are parked in a neat diagonal row in front of the feed store. Five steeples are visible, revealing the presence of at least five churches of interchangeable evangelical denominations. On the way to this neighborhood she passed three pawnshops. But even this town is changing. She saw the trucks, far down the mountain, on her way in. The work crews were sweating over earth-movers and directing traffic with flags. The pr...

A rueful smile formed on my lips as I looked out the window of the hotel room. Across the parking lot blinked the orange neon sign with its familiar owl emblem. I sent the message: You’re taking me to Hooters for our first date? She messaged back: Yes. I wasn’t surprised. Gwen is aware of my issues. She is my domme, after all. We have a different kind of dynamic. I don’t expect anyone to understand it. It's none of their business. She told me where to be and when to be there. I went. I don’t question her. If I did, she wouldn’t answer. Some things in life just are. I showered, brushed my hair, and dressed. The outfit I had brought to wear - the short, low-cut dress that had seemed right when I tried it on at home - was all wrong. I studied myself in the mirror, hating what I saw. My heart began beating erratically and the familiar pangs of an anxiety attack set in. I sipped a minibar brandy from the tiny bottle, willing my heart to slow down. The thought of leaving t...

I watch her walk into the bar. She walks unsteadily on heels so shiny I can tell she bought them today. Her dress looks new too: a sheath in silky red, short enough to flirt with the wrong side of trashy. She downs her first drink quickly. Dressed like that, she's working up the courage to do something foolish. She needs a drink or two to steady her nerves. I crook my finger and Nate comes over. "Another?" "I'm buying for the lady at the bar," I say. Nate glances at her and smiles. "I thought so," he replies. Nate returns with my drink, then delivers one to her. She looks over and smiles at me, and I raise my glass in a long-distance toast. I walk over and take the seat next to her. We make small talk, and I try to look fascinated as she tells me about her life. She practically blossoms, she is so grateful to have someone paying attention to her. She's getting teary-eyed about her granny's apple pie or some such nonsense whe...

I want you to help me find a new sub. We'll be partners. We'll pick her out and we'll kidnap her and take her to this cabin I know a couple hours away. She'll be so scared when we get there. When she calms down a little I will congratulate her on her new life. I'll tell her that she now has an infinitely obedient sextoy to use in any way she sees fit. She will awaken to gentle cunnilingus every morning. She will be gently bathed in the shower or tub. She'll receive massages throughout the day. Sex of any kind whenever she wants. From you. She won't believe it. So we'll have to make a little demonstration. I can give you to her, but she needs some training. An owner's manual. She'll want to be considerate at first, to treat you like a person. I'll show her how to treat you as an object. I'll put you on all fours during our conversation so I can put my feet up and use you as a footrest. I'll let her know that she doesn...

I enjoy being dominant but I am not a sadist. When I engage with a submissive girl, I accept responsibility for decision-making in our relationship, particularly regarding sex. That means that I am no longer responsible just for my own pleasure, but for hers as well. That is a big responsibility and I take it seriously. If a partner requires a bit of humiliation or pain for satisfaction, then I will provide it. But I take no direct pleasure from hurting anyone. We all have comfort zones. We know what we like and what feels safe to us. As I get to know my partners I learn where the borders and edges of their comfort zones are. We go there, right to the edge. And when we have established trust and all seems right, I lead them a half-step over into the thrilling territory they didn't dare explore before - or, more commonly, that they never suspected they would find so exciting and fulfilling. When the chemistry is just right, the sub takes an adventure tour of erotic discovery a...