Date: Fri, 28 Jul 2023 01:23:15 +0000 (UTC)
From: MHD
Subject: New submission:  Gay male sub turns the tables on his dom

This is my true accord of being turned from a dom into a sub by my
husband.

How the Mighty Have Fallen: My sub Turns the Tables on Me.


A true story.


I am a successful attorney who divorced his wife at age 36 in favor of
dating men.  I tried hard to be part of an intellectual power couple like
I had been with my wife, dating only CEO's, investment bankers, and
thought leaders.  Each was a bigger asshole than the last, disliking kids
in general and mine in particular.  None would nurture me with a freaking
gun to their head.


Eventually I got over them (and myself) and fell for a hot, hunky
construction worker with homespun grammar and a heart of gold.  Quiet, a
little shy and very manly, his wife had left him with custody of a
kid.  Like  everyone we have met since then, even she was astonished to
find out he was gay.  He is very masculine presenting.  He is a huge
sports fan, drives a pickup truck, drinks whiskey, has huge natural
muscles, not gym muscles, especially arms, neck, shoulders and back. He
has a small, firm beer gut, to say nothing of a sweet tight ass that I
knew I had to fuck, (and would be the first to do so.)


He was new to mansex when we met, and new to kink.  He had stars in his
eyes about me and our sex life, and he thought that my dominant side in
the bedroom was sexy and fun, or so he said.  I loved dominating this
mountain of a man, and quickly turned into the major asshole dom I am
known in some circles to be.  He hated rimming me but I made him do it
every day.  I made him sleep in tight, painful bondage.  He was afraid of
sex with other guys so I would tie him up and let random guys fuck
him.  Since I was the first to fuck him, my average dick seemed big to
him, which I loved.  He insisted that the more hung guys who fucked him
at my direction were no more fun.  (This is called a lie.)  I used heavy
flogging and electro on him.  The least disobedience on his part was
punished with even harsher beatings, electro, and heavy pounding at both
ends by a fuck machine.


He said he had enough money to get by,  but I could see that he was still
a little dazzled by my resources.  I took him to Europe for his first
time and flashed my credit card at every problem that came his
way.  Eventually he and his kid moved in with me and my kids.  They
quickly became inseparable and saw each other as much loved companions,
his only child being delighted to finally have some long-desired
siblings.


What I didn't know was that he was on Vicodin for a construction
injury.  He was determined to get off of it, and finally did so at year
three of our relationship.  He also had vivid, traumatic memories of
childhood sexual abuse by a man, which was way easier to bear with
narcotic on board.  His nightly beatings and bound rapings by random men
at my direction were also easier to bear on Vicodin.  Once he was off of
it he realized that he was in over his head.  The trauma came bubbling
up, and he became severely claustrophobic.  He said nothing to me about
any of this.  He had one eye on the door, but the closeness of our kids
and the closeness of my wallet were a strong draw.  (My personality was
not.)  The construction industry had just tanked and he was out of work,
scrambling for odd jobs, which he found humiliating as a skilled
carpenter.


So unbeknownst to me he devised a way to make it work.  He looked through
my browsing history and saw some cuck and chastity porn that we had not
discussed.  He talked to a couple of my kinky buddies who wanted to see
me taken down a peg or two.  He took a stiff belt of whiskey and decided
to swing for the fences.  He decided to make me, a brutal and mostly
asshole dom, his slave.  Not merely his sub, mind you, but his slave.


He gets on top of me and pins me down in bed one night.  Somehow I had
never really appreciated his strength compared to mine, since he had
always been so submissive and compliant.  His muscles had always seemed
like decorations.  I couldn't move a muscle, like not one inch, and
tried to tell him to get off of me.  He grabbed my balls hard, smacked my
face and told me to shut the fuck up or he would crush my nuts for
good.


"Now you listen to me, you brutal motherfucker," he grunted, "and
listen to me good.  Things are going to be different around here.  I've
decided I can't be your slave anymore and I'm ready to walk out the
door this minute.  I'm going to give you one chance to save this, and
one chance only, so listen up."


My pulse was racing and I was so shocked I didn't really know here I
was.  All the time I keep thinking I can throw him off of me, but even
when I strained with all my might I couldn't wiggle at all.


"Knock it off and hold still and listen to me, boy" he said very matter
of factly, "or I will wreck your balls once and for all."


He squeezed harder and I lost my breath, hoping he would say what he
wanted to quickly, but instead he took his time.  In slow, deliberate
tones, with a confidence I had never heard before, he continued,


"You are going to be my slave from now on.  You have seven days to get
your dick pierced so I can lock you in inescapable chastity.  You won't
cum until you find me three more hung guys to fuck me.  You will stand
naked at attention at the bedside, gagged, holding drinks, towels, and
lube on a tray while they do so.  Even though you're the breadwinner you
will do all of the chores- laundry, dishes, shopping, cooking, cleaning
for me and for my guest tops.  You will get a coin toss chance of fucking
me once a year on Christmas.  You can kiss me once a month on the
lips.  We will talk about other kisses in a minute."


"Hold the phone," I said, finally catching my breath.  "This is never
going to work."  And then he let fly with the most pivotal observation
of my life, before or since:


"Then why is your dick so hard?" He asked with a mocking stare,
smacking it back and forth, a signal of things to come.


"Damn thing," I thought to myself.  "It only gets me in trouble and it
betrays me at every turn."


"I'm not done yet, boy," he continued.  "You know I don't like
licking ass and feet.  You have made me do it every day since we met and
you can kiss that goodbye.

You will lick my feet when I return home each day, and you will lick my
ass for five minutes, morning and night.  Don't worry, it will be just
as clean as you left yours for me, Captain Dingleberry, which is not
very."


"I will of course share your holes with whomever I like," he went on,
"like you did mine.  You have some disgruntled subs who will stand in
line to do to you what you did to them, while my friends and I sit back
and laugh.  I will sell your services as an overeducated servant,
masseur, cook, butler, carwasher, and cocksucker to anyone who will pay
me."


By this time you could cut a diamond with my dick.  He is basically
reading my browsing history back to me.  Every vague kinky fantasy I'd
had in my head, including a few small submissive ones, is being spelled
out for me.


"So here's the deal," he concluded, putting his ass in my face with
surprising agility while maintaining his grip on my balls.  "You have
sixty seconds to decide.  You either lick my ass right now to signify
that you are my 100 percent slave, or I get up and walk out that door
right now forever.  59, 58, 57..."


I hesitated til he got to about 45 thinking first of my kids and how
difficult it would be for them to endure another split, this time losing
a peer.  Maybe I still can't admit to this day that my dick made the
decision for me.  Whether as family man, horndog, or a desire to let go
of my daytime alpha personality, something inside me snapped and I leaned
forward and gave my first of hundreds, now thousands, of rim jobs.


The piercing happened the following day.  My then boyfriend, now hubby,
emerged from a quiet conference with the piercer who announced that local
anesthetic wasn't normally used for these things, and that they were out
of the small and medium needles one uses for these things.  Later I
learned that he had received a hefty tip to tell both lies, before he
jammed a giant needle, slowwwwwly, through my dick.  (If you would like
to know what it felt like, slam your dick in a car door.)


I learned quickly what my subs had known about chastity for a long
time.  There is a weird mental hyper focus and somehow it makes you want
to submit to your key holder.  Washing his truck and the cars of his
visitors seemed erotic somehow, as did doing all the other chores.  I
found the tops for him and got to shoot once a week, but only if he was
getting enough action.


He eventually fell in love with more than one of his tops, something that
has created a little tension on and off.  It's oddly easier if his tops
(bulls) dominate me, than if they ignore me, as many prefer to do.


It's been a wild ride.  He told me to abandon the prenup which I did,
(talk about a bondage fantasy for a lawyer.). I thought for sure I would
at least get to fuck him on our wedding night, but alas it was not to
be.  A former bull who had moved away flew into town and did the
honors.  He didn't know that we had gotten married or that I would be
locked in chastity.  Both of those things turned him on enormously and
they fucked all night, right in front of me, while a fourteen day load
boiled in my very blue balls.  I had to lick all four feet and both asses
on and off while they cuddled and talked about me like I wasn't even
there.  Not sure when I came to crave the erotic heat of humiliation, but
I think there is one day when the wild horse finally submits and takes
the bit.  It was then.


It is now 12 years later.  I am typing this on a plane, flying to see my
man at our vacation home where he luxuriates four days a week, with who
knows whom.  He has directed me to serve certain other Doms and it is one
of those out of town Doms who instructed me to write up this story today
and give it to him by tonight.  He, in turn, is sending other doms to use
me.  This studly Dom remembered the situation from my having mentioned it
years ago and thought it was hot, and memorable enough to commit to
posterity here.  So here it is.  Every word of it is true.  Even non
kinky people seem to like it when I mention even small parts of it.


And well, thousands of forced rimmings into it, I have to admit that they
all have a point. Somehow I still don't like licking ass,  but I think
it's hot to be forced to lick ass. My dick, which hardened enough to
give me up into a life of bondage in the first place, is at this very
minute straining in its cage as I write this.  I have long since shed any
inkling of domination or resistance.  I have come to enjoy the pleasure
which my abject submission, and ever increasing pain tolerance, bring to
my Sirs.  And that's just how both of my Sirs like to keep it.


MHD