A night of unexpected dominance

After getting engaged to my boyfriend, our relationship felt amazing. I felt so much love for him and told him I would do anything to be with him forever. After his birthday, which happened shortly after our vacation together, I didn’t manage to get him a gift and became quite anxious about it. He noticed and told me he didn’t need a material gift. Instead, he wished to dominate me for an evening, and I would have to answer YES to EVERY question. I found this game exciting because he liked tying me up, and I always got very aroused by it.

However, this evening was different. He stripped me completely naked. I expected him to take me straight to the bedroom for some hot sex. Instead, he tied my hair into a ponytail and put on some sort of orthopedic posture corrector. It was a strap that was tightly bound around my arms and shoulders, preventing me from slouching. Then he blindfolded me and dressed me.

The clothes were obviously not from my wardrobe. First, he put on a very tight-fitting blouse with a very stiff and high collar. The blouse was definitely more than just “slim fit.” He struggled a bit to button it up completely. I couldn’t see anything because my eyes were covered with a proper blindfold. The fabric of the blouse was very comfortable and felt high-quality. Then came a sort of dress over the blouse. I wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath. This was definitely not something I was used to. After I was finally allowed to sit down, he put on some pretty uncomfortable high heels and spent quite a while fiddling with my hair. He tied it into a very high ponytail multiple times, using a lot of hairspray. The ponytail was definitely too tight, causing my scalp at the forehead to feel strained. I was so perplexed that I hadn’t said anything up to this point.

When he removed the blindfold, I was shocked. I looked at myself and ran to our hallway mirror. I was wearing a white blouse with ruffles and trumpet sleeves, and the black dress over it resembled a school uniform. The tied-up hair didn’t suit my face at all. I found myself really ugly and started asking him what this was all about. He replied with a grin that I was his birthday present. He told me that we had a strict schedule, but I should take 10 minutes in the dressing room to reflect. If I came out wearing the clothes, we would have a great evening, but if not, he would know that I wasn’t willing to do anything for him. I left the room totally grumpy and wanted to get rid of those ridiculous clothes immediately. I took everything off. However, I couldn’t remove the shoes because they were secured with a lock on the strap. And I simply couldn’t undo the ponytail by myself. It was wrapped and knotted multiple times with a massive leather band.

After about five minutes, once I had calmed down a bit, I thought I’d make him happy and just endure it ONLY for tonight. I got dressed again as requested, but this time with some sexy lingerie underneath to give him an extra surprise. I had to leave out the bra, though, because the blouse was so tight that I wouldn’t have been able to button it up otherwise. When I came out, I stood there with my head bowed and apologized for my outburst. He said that was good because he had another birthday wish: for me to give him a blowjob. That instantly relaxed the situation, and I could laugh. I knelt in front of him, but before he opened his pants, he tied a bib around my neck. He said we didn’t want to dirty my nice new outfit.

I knelt directly in front of our hallway mirror and could watch myself as I brought him to orgasm with my mouth. Of course, some of it ended up on the bib. He said he’d quickly get something. I thought he was getting tissues to wipe my face. Instead, he came back with a spoon and scraped the semen off the bib onto the spoon. He then brought the spoon to my mouth, and I refused. He asked me three times to open my mouth until he got slightly annoyed and began spreading the semen from the spoon into my already hairspray-fixed hair. I obediently took the second spoonful into my mouth. I had never felt so humiliated as in that moment. I had to watch myself in the mirror, dressed ridiculously with a baby bib and semen in my hair, as I was being fed. It was a very humbling moment. Somehow, I liked his dominance. In my work life, I was a department head and had to prove myself every day. In my private life, it was different; I often let my boyfriend make the decisions. When he removed the bib, he spread the remaining semen directly under my nose with his finger. When I reached for my face to wipe it off, he just said, “No, it stays where it is.” I felt dazed. Ever since deciding to put the clothes back on and endure the evening, I hadn’t been myself. After the blowjob, he disappeared for a moment while I continued kneeling in the hallway. By then, my feet had fallen asleep from kneeling for so long. He returned dressed in a totally elegant suit. I wasn’t used to seeing my boyfriend like this. I found him incredibly sexy and attractive in that outfit. He helped me up like a gentleman, and we left the apartment.

Once in the car, I noticed that the semen in my face and hair had dried. And let me tell you, dried semen smells anything but good. Now, I had an omnipresent smell in my nose that was hard to ignore.

At the restaurant, I realized that we were both clearly overdressed for the occasion. I practically drew all the attention to myself. At that moment, I felt extremely uncomfortable, and my face turned red with embarrassment. We sat at a table by the large window facing the street. It was like sitting in a shop window on a very busy street. I couldn’t shake my nervousness and fidgeted around. I kept looking in all directions, hoping no one I knew would see me. He, on the other hand, was completely relaxed, acting like a true gentleman. He was very assertive but also very considerate and unbelievably sexy in his suit. Somehow, I liked the power dynamic, and throughout the meal, I could only think about sex. After the main course, he asked me to go to the restroom, take off my panties, and bring them to him. When I tried to discreetly hand him the panties under the table, he told me to lay them out nicely on the table. Now my neon pink, slightly damp underwear was lying in the middle of the table. I could have died of embarrassment.

When the waiter came to our table, he quickly hid the panties and paid our bill.

On the way home, we had incredibly erotic and deep conversations. Once we got home, he tied me up and gave me the best orgasms I had ever had in my life. I was amazed at how exhausted I was afterward. My legs were weak. He had to carry me to the bathroom because I couldn’t manage it myself. Then I fell asleep naked, still wearing the arm cuffs and the collar he used to tie me up. I was too tired to think about it. The next morning, I snuck out of the bedroom to free myself from the restraints and surprise him with breakfast. We had a wonderful time and enjoyed our breakfast in bed.

Afterward, it was time to shower. So, I asked him to undo my tight ponytail. The ponytail was tied very tightly with some kind of leather band. I had no chance of undoing it myself. After 10 minutes, it became clear that he couldn’t manage it either. I started to get nervous when he tried to cut the band with his tools. After all, he could have easily cut my hair too. We decided together that it made no sense to continue and that we should leave it to a professional. I made a hairdresser appointment for the same day to get rid of the troublesome ponytail. Despite the hairdresser’s visit, I still had to wash my hair since he had spread his semen in it the day before. I couldn’t subject my hairdresser to that. It was already embarrassing enough. While I went to the hairdresser, he stayed home to take a nap.

When I told my hairdresser about my problem (of course not the true story), she gave me a knowing smile. I blushed deeply when I realized she suspected a sexual background. She asked me to sit in the last chair and assured me that she would take care of it. She had always managed to undo any ponytail. After trying the normal method like we did at home with no success, she started pulling out her special tools. It was a spray that loosened the hair a bit and some kind of pliers. Slowly, I began to panic, and the tugging at my hair was anything but pleasant. My scalp hurt from the constant pulling on my hair.

After about 15 minutes, I started to cry and became really desperate. Without having to say anything, I could see from the sad look on the hairdresser’s face that we would have to cut off the ponytail. I asked her with my head down how short we would have to go. I had been wanting to try something new for a while, like a longer bob or something. But the ponytail was so tightly bound that she told me it would be more of a very radical haircut. She showed me pictures in catalogs, and finally, due to a lack of alternatives, I decided on a pixie cut that she recommended for my face shape.

As she fought her way through my hair with the scissors, I could only cry. It felt like I was losing a part of my identity. I asked her to cut off as little as possible. The hair was still the longest in the front, but she explained that to give it a neat look, she would have to trim it a bit all over. She spent over half an hour cutting my hair, and by then, I couldn’t even look. It was easier for me to stare at the floor and try to hold back my tears. I felt dazed. When she took out the razor to shave the back of my neck, I started to tremble. After that, she was thankfully finished. She wanted to show me the back of my hair with a mirror, but in my shock, I declined. I just wanted to pay and quickly flee the salon. I felt simply ugly. I didn’t have the face for short hair, and the haircut also looked a bit boyish. When I arrived home crying, my fiancé greeted me with a grin on his face and said, “Now I’ve got you where I want you.”

If you want to know how the story continues, leave me a comment.

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