The Perfect Submissive Guy Blog Title

Fantasies, at least in my opinion are one of the more fascinating aspects of human sexuality. They provide depth and dimesion to a person’s sexuality in ways that perhaps no other singular things can do. Sharing fantasies with another person is in my experience an excellent way of getting acquainted because it promotes honest, intimate disclosure.

When a person shares a fantasy with you it reveals so much about them beyond what is usually shared between people. The social masking and posturing that we generally indulge in when socializing with others we don’t know well simply evaporates. In a very real sense, when a person shares with you an intimate fantasy they gift you with a piece of themselves.

So much for theory. I’ll cut to the chase and get into the personal practicalities of the thing. I decided for my second post I’d share a fantasy. If there is any area that I do have some imagination I’d say it is in the fantasy realm as I have pretty vibrant fantasy life.

I imagine new fantasies regularly but never let go of old ones. I seem to just build on them by adding more detail. I like the mature ones because they become over time more textured and multi-dimensional. The one I’ll share this time around is a favorite that I’ve enjoyed imagining for a good long time.

Please don’t dismiss me as singularly focused just yet until you have had time to get a little better acquainted but the fantasy involves both lingerie and humiliation. I just thought it might be instructive to round out in a practical way the interests I shared in my first post. Now to the fantasy.

It is a rather simple fantasy, the setting is a pool-side party hosted by my imaginary Mistress. When it comes to Mistresses, on a fantasy level I prefer to imagine an elegant, intelligent, well-spoken, educated woman interested shall we say in the finer things of life. A woman with femininity oozing from every pore yet with an uncompromisingly assertive and authoritative demeanor, quick to praise but also quick to punish when circumstances warrant it.

My Mistress has invited a handful of her closest Mistress cronies for a little pool-side get together. My role of course is that of the party server and in the end, party favor. My Mistress requires me to dress in a pair of pink lacey, thong panties with matching garter and thigh high hosiery. The ensemble is completed by a pair of patent leather stilettos, that I am forced to walk about in in a glaringly ungainly fashion, and a fashionable pink bow tie.

My assignment is to carry hors devours on a silver serving tray from the kitchen to pool-side and serve the ladies, beautifully attired in fashionable swimwear and to keep their crystal wine glasses filled at all times.

Imagine the catcalls, coarse jokes and minor insults that I must endure given my incongruent attire and lackey status. Of course I feel extremely humiliated beyond measure simply from having to appear dressed as I am in front of a crowd of dominant women that I am not well acquainted with. My shame readily evident from the crimson color manifested in my cheeks and ears.

All of those present know that my Mistress mercilessly controls my orgasms and are confident that it has likely been weeks or more since I was last permitted sexual release. This tidbit of information comes into play after the ladies have begun to feel the buzz provided by several glasses of the fine wine my Mistress had provided for the enjoyment of her guests.

Receiving my last minute service instructions, Mistress hands me two sterling silver platters, one pilled high with finger sandwiches, decoratively sliced vegetables and fruits, assorted cheeses and other assorted delicacies. The other is loaded with filled crystal wine glasses that I clumsily attempt to balance in the other hand. I began making my rounds among the ladies.

In the beginning, the abuse is strictly verbal, with the snide comments and jokes about my pretty panties or observations of my very poor posture and clumsy carriage. Each comment in turn fills me with dread that my Mistress may become displeased with me and I may suffer unspeakable indignities after the party as punishment. Naturally, each comment, piled one on the other serves to deepen and accentuate my feelings of shame and embarrassment.

Finally the food course and desserts have been served and I am circulating through the guests refilling wine glasses for third and fourth times. For a time, the ladies had seemed to lose interest in me and take no notice beyond a nod here and there in response to my offers to refill empty glasses. Yet as the wine begins to manifest its effects I soon become the target of sport.

Standing before one of the women, I refill her glass and she leans back in her chair gazing at me. Uneasily I ask, "Will there be anything else madam?” As a response she kicks off an open-toe sandal, lifts her bare foot and begins rubbing her foot on my crotch with predictable results. Despite my best efforts, being in the presence of a host of scantily clad, physically attractive and forceful women, the winsome and inviting scents of perfumes permeating the air, my mind is already wandering to things I know my Mistress would not approve of.

With the first slight brush of her foot, my manhood begins to stiffen and peaks in ridiculous fashion above the panty waistband. Once satisfied that I am very aroused, she drops her foot, leans forward, giggles and gives me a nice view of her ample cleavage before dismissing me with a wave of her hand.

I approach the next woman who stands and so I stop. She turns her back and taking a step backward, presses the flesh of her supremely shapely bottom against my now painfully swollen and throbbing manhood and starts rubbing herself against me. Not knowing what to do I stand there until the first stirrings of an impending orgasm begin to build in my loins and then I attempt to retreat but she steps backwards in concert keeping her bottom firmly pressed against me.

At the last possible moment, she mercifully stops, nearly in tears from her laughter and allows me to continue my duties. Unfortunately she had persisted to the point that I am now noticeable leaking from my tip and soiling the pink panties.

The next woman I approach stares directly at my crotch and the spreading wetness and in mock horror, she gasps bringing a fist to her mouth and then says loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Oh you naughty, incorrigible little boy, you have soiled your beautiful panties!”

In a panic I glance sideways and my heart sinks as I see with consternation that my Mistress’ attention had been rudely jerked by the loud announcement from the conversation she had been engaged in and she impales me with her flashing green eyes, with a steely glare.

She strides quickly to where I am standing and stares at my panties. “You imbecile!” she exclaims. She snatches the wine bottle from my hand, slamming it loudly onto a nearby table and grabs me by the right ear, twisting it sharply causing me to howl involuntarily in pain. Holding firmly, she drags me to a corner. She orders me to face the corner, to place my hands behind my head and press my nose into the corner. Once I am in the position, I feel her thumbs slip inside the waist band of the panties. She roughly jerks them down until they rest around my knees. “You are an utter embarrassment to me,” she scolds. “Remain as you are until you are told otherwise.”

Self-consciously, I stand, my knees quivering slightly, my bare bottom exposed to whomever may care to look. To add insult to injury she orders me to recite again and again that I have been a horrible little boy, continuing to shout, “Speak up!” until she is satisfied I am reciting loudly enough to suit her. I then hear the sound of the heels of her shoes clicking on the cement as she stomps away. I continue reciting the embarrassing mantra and anxiously awaiting my fate. The flesh of my face, ears and neck, hot and flushed from the humiliation.

Typically by this point, I am feeling exceedingly aroused whenever I re-visit this fantasy. The vision of how I imagine being forced to dress, the humiliation factor involved and the real arousal that comes unbidden as I imagine the liberties visited upon me by dominant women intent on cruelly taunting and inciting me to intense arousal, knowing I will get no release, are usually evident to the extreme. I won’t continue the scenario further in the interest of not boring anyone with excessive details. Suffice to say, the plot can take a number of twists from this point if I am not yet sufficiently feeling the arousal.

Perhaps the women will continue inciting me in various ways using their feminine wiles. Perhaps my Mistress returns with a riding crop and begins punishing my bare bottom to the delight of the others or perhaps they even begin taking turns cropping my bare bottom. Perhaps my Mistress relents at some point because she decides to require me to start serving orally every woman at the party in turn, as they become increasingly inebriated. The point remains, regardless of how the story might turn, that the humiliation and lingerie aspects are things that have strong appeal for me which is what gave birth to the fantasy in the beginning and that which keeps it alive for me.

Obviously, brevity has escaped me once again but to those who take the time to read it, I hope the fantasy helps you to know me a bit better and that you found it agreeable and entertaining to read.