Awakening Of a Phone Sex Femdom

I am what is known as a phone sex Femdom. How did I come across this job? Well, need and opportunity coincided, I guess you could say. I needed a job pretty badly. The economy being in the toilet as it was and still is, I needed one as soon as possible. A friend of mine happened to work in phone sex already and said she would help me out.

At first, I decided I could not do that. That is the same thing as hooking, I thought. I should also mention I was a little less open-minded in those days, and generally staved off new experiences in favor of things that were comfortable and familiar. But one month, I could not make rent, and as time passed, I finally got my friend to help me out. But to understand why I was initially hesitant, I should tell you a piece of my history.

I was not the most dominant person throughout my life. I would not say submissive, but I was weak and demure. My parents raised me to be what they believed a woman should be, not entirely unlike what you would see from a fifty’s situation comedy. Demure, sweet, cake in the oven, pie cooling on the window, and dinner hot on the table, ready for her husband. My parents considered me a failure because I did not marry right out of high school. Women apparently are not supposed to have a career or go to college. Luckily, I earned a scholarship and managed to break out of that small town life and see what the world at large looked like, for what was truly the first time. And to be honest, it was a little frightening.

College and the Femdom Path Is Revealed

I ended up dating seriously during my time in college, and it was terrible. Not a waste of time, mind you. Looking back on it, with the knowledge I have now, I was just going for the wrong sort of guy for me. The beer swilling, obnoxious frat boy type. The closest thing to men like my father, I suppose. Complete and utter assholes, in other words.

My roommate in my dorm decided to set me up with her brother, who she described as a nice guy, and something I probably needed. As it turned out, her brother was exactly what I needed to begin unlocking who I am now, the sexy Femdom Mistress. He was a little shy, but nice, as his sister claimed, and we got along pretty well. We dated for a while, normal stuff, dinner, movies, put-put golf, things like that. We actually swapped virginities. It was a good relationship, and one I treasured. For a while, it did seem like the Holly Homemaker path was coming up. But the Internet, and fate, it seems, had other plans.

BDSM (A+)

While researching human sexual behavior for my psychology class, I came upon BDSM. BDSM is a strange acronym, in that the two middle letters have two different meanings. Bondage, Discipline, Sadism, Masochism is the standard scheme, but some also include Dominance and Submission for the middle “DS.” I began researching it in earnest, because it appealed to some heretofore unknown need inside of me. I wanted this lifestyle they kept referencing, one with a clear superior and a subordinate. Only the things I was looking up showed primarily female-led relationships. This changed me, for the better, I think. I wrote my report, and got an A+, but I still kept researching it. Eventually I told my boyfriend about it. And, what he said next, shocked me. He had already experienced it.

My Femdom Secret Is Out

I looked at him in disbelief as he told me how this dear, sweet boy was once a rubber gimp to a woman. She was a lawyer and kept him locked in rubber all day. The only time he was allowed out of the suit was for a nightly shower, and he was promptly locked back in. I felt a little betrayed, saying he told me that first time we made love was his first time, and he assured me it was. She did not keep him for sex. The woman kept him for abuse. She would frequently bring other men to their home and have sex with them in front of him. I guess you could say he was a cuckold, and he loved it.

This blew my mind. Eventually, we talked and got through this, and we talked about many things they did. CBT made me giggle, and I realize that was my inner sadist coming to the fore. We made love that night, me riding him for once. Part of the way through, I grabbed him by his nipples, and started twisting and pulling them, causing him to squeal and whimper. Instead of my name, he called me Mistress…and I came.

I still have him, all these years later. In a way, I suppose I made my parents proud, since we married shortly out of college. And yes, the little woman of the household is demure, sweet, cooks a cake in the oven, has pies cooling on the window, and dinner hot on the table. What they do not know is the little woman in the floral print dress, with the high heels and pearls, is the man I married. But that is a tale told for another time.

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