You're So Going to Adore Me

I remember the first thing I ever told him: You’re so going to adore me.

I am a man of pleasure, for a special price. Oh, don't get me wrong, it is not for the money, or I would have stopped long ago. No, My price is a perfect obedience from my clients. I am not one of those dominatrix that will insult than whipped you if asked. I am the perfect ruler, the only one in control over your world. And it is my job to take care of my entire subjects. But I am not a dictator; I do not force people under this. Pleasure has to be taken, not stolen, for this reason I have always been the number one master of this house. Because of this I always refused any offer to rule, I prefer to pick them myself. Once every month new 'clients' would come over and we, master and slave of the house, needed to attend.

Few of them ever awoken my interest and even fewer intrigued me. That was until one of them stimulated my interest more than before. He had me do something I haven't done in ages, he made me imagine.

The first time he came to us, his eyes were blaring fire and consequences. A soldier, I knew before even the word crossed his lips. Many of them came to us in hope of feeling the trill of fighting and winning a fight or the one of loosing. They were our prey, the broken toys the military created for us, moulded into the addiction of shame or victory. I was feeling the rebellion boiling in his blood. I could taste the defiance and classed him as a Dom. 'This man can't be tamed,' I thought, looking in his eyes. 'He can only conquer.'

So as he walked directly toward me, and kneeling in front of me in a submissive way, it was 'almost' in surprise that I accepted this new slave. He was in my eyes a graceful creature made of steal, and weapon for destruction waiting to be unleashed but begging to be under my leash. I spent hour on him, training his body toward a level of arousal where his eyes and the head of his cock were weeping to release. I had him tied, knowing that this man would fight for his freedom, under my foot begging like a dog of the military he was, a mongrel before his master. I would ride him as he couldn't move, pleasuring myself before him as he would stare to my face alone. In those moments, where he would graze upon me with adoration, his mouth gagged, his body fighting to release, that his golden eyes would glaze and I knew it was of something else he would think of. I had perfect control over his body, his desire but a part of his mind was to someone else. I fought with this desire because such a perfect slave couldn't be lost. This man, made for conquer, was a weapon. I could see as I made him kneel at my feet that this man would choose his master and follow him until death. And how I wanted that blind adoration to be mine only.

It was about a year after I accepted my pet, my dangerous panther, that I met his real master.

It was a surprise since not only I could sense some sort of conquering aura around him that was the same to my own persona but he had a similar facial structure than me. My doppelganger entered the room without asking and simply waited in front of me, never reacting in any other way to my threats. He was there waiting, looking at me and smiling like a pure sycophantic man he was, for I knew those types of men, before I realized what happened.

My beautiful pet had moved, without my command, toward my carbon copy.

I realized at that moment that even if he had allowed me the control of his body, over his pleasure, He had the control of his mind. I could only watch, mesmerized, as they shared a bond I could never had with him. He was panting, but not asking for more. He was on the verge of coming, and I could see his need for more, for friction. He was arching his hips toward him, in hope to fill him. I was sure he would do as I did; he would let my beautiful panther fill him. So it was a chock as I saw the cock of my doppelganger enters swiftly his body, leaving neither time to get used to the size or the entry.

As I watched, stunned, their sexing, I understood completely. I never had any control over him. I would always let him have the little control of fucking me, of being inside my tight tunnel rather than enter him. Here, this man took everything he wanted, never telling what he would do, or if he should. He tamed my panther with the fear of the unknown. But never truly hurting him, as I could see also the love in his eyes. My job was to found the kink of so many men, to take away all of their control and leave them in shame. And this man did the same but with a tactic I have never known of.

I remember the first sentence I had told my pet: You’re so going to adore me. Only, I never succeeded the same as this man did.