The Phone-domme Menace

Orgasms since last entry: Two (more on that later)

"You totally manipulated me."
"Really? But I gave you a chance to get away."
"But think about what it said in The Game, about overcoming last-minute resistance. "
"Oh my... you're so right."
It was early morning. I'd been struck with a realisation while reading my lover's account of the first time she sucked me off, and couldn't wait to share it with her. Instinctively, it seemed, she had pulled off a trick that pick-up artists have had to work out slowly by experimentation and critical analysis; get someone worked up, present them with the promise of sex, then offer to stop, and their resistance will crumble. Knowing you can't have something - anything - just makes you want it more. I was just as succeptible to manipulation as the next person, and my lover had exploited that without even doing it consciously.
"The thing is, once I realised it, I also realised there's a bunch of other incidents where the same is true. Things I was reluctant to do at first, and you've just managed to override my hesitation. I am totally your bitch."
The voice on the other end of the phone giggled.
"No," I continued "it's wonderful. You've been dominating me for years, and it's such a gentle, smooth, subtle domination that I didn't even realise it. I'm your pussy-slave. And I really like it."
"Well, maybe that's the reason I've never felt the need to physically dominate you."
"Perhaps, although I hope we can do some of that sometime too." I replied, a distinct grin creeping into my voice.
"Sure, just as long as we get to swap roles from time to time."

My beloved and I have had this ongoing discussion about dominance and submission in our relationship for some time now. For the most part, our sex life is quite vanilla, leaving aside the amount of sex we have (when we're not seperated by work commitments) and the tendency to invent new sex toys and test them out on each other. We have an extensive wish-list of group encounters, voyeuristic acts, and locations to check off. But normally we're just too horny and too desperate to fuck each other to be bothered dressing up, setting a scene, or doing any other role-playing stuff. None-the-less we've been gradually working more domination and submission into our discussions lately. I think everyone has a passion for powerplay in sex - some of us just acknowledge it and embrace it more than others. I certainly do. Even though I like the idea of taking charge sometime, and have been known to subject my lover to some extremely restrictive (and orgasm-inducing) situations, the thought of a woman bending me to her will has always gotten my motor running. There's something about the idea of a beautiful woman making me want to do as she commands that drives me wild. So the realisation that I'm somewhat pussy-whipped was actually pretty satisfying.

It became even more satisfying later than day, when I rang my beloved again. This time, I had intended to have a platonic discussion, to balance out the sex-talk from earlier. It didn't last...
"You know I love it when you call me 'slave'," I whispered as my body arched with excitement.
"I know," she replied "I own you."
Once again my body writhed. Her words were a pavlovian stimulus, arousing me as much as the touch of her hands, or her tongue, in another time and place. My free hand rubbed across my crotch, unbidden.
"I want you to cum for me, slave."
I unzipped my trousers and pulled them down from my swelling cock. My fingers and thumb wrapped around the shaft and began stroking.
"Get yourself nice and hard, but don't cum until I tell you."
"Yes mistress, I understand!"
I continued to stroke myself, as we discussed my state of arousal. Every time she referred to me as her slave I felt my cock become a little harder. Truly the brain is the most erogenous organ... Before long I could feel the base of my cock pulsing, the premonitions of an impending orgasm. Again she ordered me not to go over the edge. I softened my touch. She described herself hovering over me, brushing her eager pussy lips against the head of my cock. I could imagine the wetness trickling over my shaft, like a bead of sweat, running down to tickle my scrotum. She described herself sliding the head of my cock into herself, then thrusting down all the way, taking me right in to the hilt. I hung on every word. She described herself clenching her muscles around me, sliding off again, until only my head was inside her, then thrusting back onto me. And then she ordered me to cum.
A spray of white liquid shot into the air, cascading back down over my thighs, my tummy, and my hand. I writhed and gasped as pulse after pulse of pleasure shot up through the length of my erection. On the other end of the phone, I could hear my lover's satisfaction at the sounds of my release. I hoped my mistress was pleased with my performance. Aftershocks racked my body as the nerve endings tried to fire again, to summon forth another orgasm, but I was too spent. My mind slipped into endorphin delirium, as I sagged into the chair.

Life has been interesting recently, discovering that I have this pavlovian reaction to a certain tone of voice, a certain choice of words, that my partner can conjure up so effortlessly. We chatted for a little while about how far we would like to take this aspect of our relationship. For certain, once work sends me back home and we can be together again, we will relish the chance to explore this face-to-face.

And then I noticed that my foreskin was stuck closed with dried cum, forming what looked for all the world like a muppet's mouth - in a state of irritation, no less! It was an amusing sight, and I wondered what had made him so annoyed, considering what a good time he'd just had. I peeled my foreskin back, exposing the head, like some enormous tongue or bloated pair of tonsils.

You know you've had a brain-frying orgasm when you sing ...

The singing penis song
Oh, I'm a singing penis,
I sing the whole day long.
Yes I'm a jolly singing penis,
and I sing the singing penis song.

I'm an opera-singing penis,
I can sing a very high note.
And when I open my mouth so wide,
my head comes outta my throat!

Women may have multiple orgasms, but their genitalia don't lend themselves to pantomime in quite the same way as men's!