Soul Submissive

"For men there's alot of pressure. We are expected to lead, to have answers, to solve problems. I don't think many women realize the amount of pressure men are under."

S had enjoyed a couple of beers and when we returned home, he lie down on the sofa nude. He was rubbing his tummy, looking up, just sharing his thoughts uninhibited.

"Being a man, we are expected to take charge of situations. As the head of the household, we are expected to have solutions. Sometimes things go wrong. Hell, things always go wrong. And when things go wrong, I'm the one who hears the complaints; I'm the one that has to deal with the disappointment. I feel bad when I've disappointed everyone. It makes me feel worthless; I feel like I didn't measure up as a man."

I could hear the sadness in his voice, remembering days of his past.

"There's no relief. When you're the head of the household, the man in charge, where can you go to hide? I can take off for a day or so, have a few beers now and then, but that pressure is just waiting there for me when I return. And how much relief can I feel just knowing it's waiting there for me when I return? There's no relief."

His voice had reached a stressed pitch. I finished changing into my lounging clothes and emerged from the closet, through the bathroom and into the living room. I knew he needed to see me at that moment.

"That's what I love, well one of the things I love, about being submissive. I hand myself over and that pressure that I've lived with my entire adult life is gone. The heaviness is off of my shoulders and I'm only expected to serve. If you need something or want something from me, you'll tell me, and I can do it, right away. But that pressure of coming up with answers I don't have is gone. I love being submissive with you."

I smiled and told him I loved him. He smiled back. This was a precious moment as a Domme and I knew it. It's not every day that a man can open up and intimately share feelings that run so deep. I was so proud of my Sweet Boy.

When I saw the red welt began to rise from his right ass cheek, I felt sick to my stomach. I knew then that this had taken a wrong turn somewhere.

I had S purchase the crop for me earlier that evening. We had then gone out with friends, and while out, S had done something to irritate me. I told him it was time to go home, and as soon as I had him home, we discussed what had happened. We resolved our issue, but apparently, I was still harboring some aggression. When we started our sexual encounter, the tone was sensitive and loving. Before long, I felt my aggression beginning to rise. I had him bent over, taking my strap-on cock in his ass (which he enjoys), and I reached for the crop.

SMACK!

"Don't you know that I'm in charge?"

He whimpered agreement.

SMACK!

"I don't want you to argue with me anymore. Understand?"

". . . yes, Mommy. . . " he whimpered.

The welt began to rise, as did the vomit in my stomach. I had promised to never hurt him. This is not who I am. This is not what I wanted. I let the power go to my head.

I has since spoken to S about this. He had obliged my indulgence obediently. He is nothing if not obedient. Filled with shame, I told him how awful I felt, and that I would never use the crop again. He didn't say a word.

My goal is to dominate with strength, to train with love, to influence with kindness, to meet his emotional needs of comfort, security, and belonging. Fear doesn't fit in there; nor does pain.

It won't happen again.