The Beach House

She didn't consider me. I was too young, too eager. The first words out of my mouth were fumbled, a sign of my inexperience with women. I suppose anyone would act the same way. Sent away to boarding school, brought up sheltered, and then spending a weekend with two of the most beautiful young women I'd seen in my young life. Any young male would have difficult maintaining composure.
Not that I would be able to orchestrate such a feat. I did have friends though, one friend in particular. He was handsome, personable and seemed to have women at his feet without even an effort. That rare soul that catches the envy of all those around him for being born with the talent to draw women. He seemed born with it. It was in his genes and came out in his smile and his words. I watched how Carrie would listen as he spoke, her eyes studying the motions of his lips as words formed.
But not me, I was always in the background, looking nondescript. I didn't have what he had and was happy to just be around the women attracted to him. Carrie became his girlfriend, if not by label then actions. She was the women he spent the most time with and the woman that received most of his attention. She was beautiful, tall, blonde and athletic. She was the captain of the cross country team and exercised with a passion usually reserved for career athletes.
Her sister, Claire, was the younger version of her. Though not blonde, she retained a strawberry auburn that illuminated her features. She was cuter than her sibling, sweeter looking and softer. Though she wasn't as developed, she inherited her physique.
I wasn't as able as my friend. In addition to my shyness around girls, I wasn't as big as most my age. Rather than join any of the teams I was on the debate team. Smarter than most my age, I would be glad to trade my smarts for some expertise with the opposite sex.
On the first night Gerald received all the attention while I stayed in the main room and watched bad sitcoms. Claire stayed with me for a while and impressed me with her thoughts. Though younger than me she seemed much more aware of herself and more intelligent than most girls I've met. Her sense of humor was sharp and had me laughing off some of my nervousness.
When it came time to go to sleep she joined her sister in the master bedroom with Gerald while I fell asleep on the couch as Ron Popeil sang me a lullabye.
I awoke early, a large bay window casting sunlight over my lids and prevented me from sleeping in. Had I been able to sleep later I would have, the overstuffed couch was more than adequate but try as I might I couldn't rest.
The house was silent and I couldn't hear a sound from the bedroom as the salty air from the tide helped to waken me further. The night before I made some resolutions- I needed to be more social, more outgoing and I needed to work to make women happy, not just think of myself as I often did in the past.
The air was heavy with salty vapor and I inhaled deeply as it cleared the remnant of sleep. Sand was cold beneath my feet and I felt the courseness of the sun pressing between my toes. I could feel my body awaken and I gulped air hungrily. The sun had not risen completely as I began to slowly move my legs. My body seemed to awaken as I worked up a sweat, treading on the soft ground.
By the time I reached the jetty and returned to the thick surf by the house I had worked up a sweat. Breathing heavy, and feeling better than I had in ages I stripped off my clothes. Shirt, shorts, underwear, shoes and socks all kicked to a pile at the foot of the backsteps. Taking a fresh towel from the porch I wrapped it around my neck and continued my run.
I felt refreshed. My cock bounced between my thighs, filling slightly as I found my pace. As I turned the corner I found an isolated spot and, breathing heavy, laid out my towel and relaxed. There was a warmth over my body I never felt as I inhaled deep breaths of air. The sun had risen fully, through a sparkling energy over the water. I admired it for a moment as I laid down and closed my eyes.
I fell asleep and dreamt of slow, warm sex with Claire. I imagined her back in the house, stripping off her nightshirt to step under the warm spray of the shower. She was in my thoughts as I watched her from the doorway, her breasts lathered and her tiny ass flexing with each step.
"Aaron...."
It was a distant voice, I shook it off.
"....Aaron..."
More insistent know, visions slowly parting.
"Are you asleep?" The voice was recognizable.
As the volume increased I snapped my eyes open. Claire stood at my feet, a towel tossed over one shoulder. She wore a light blue two piece bikini that showed every outline of her tiny body. Between her thighs you could make out a faint cleft.
"What are you doing?" She sounded equally shocked and amused.
It took me a moment to realize where I was while Claire took her time looking me over. Her eyes focused on the erection standing proud beneath my legs. I wanted to cover myself but as my hand reached to cover, I felt my palm wrapped around the shaft. It felt so wonderful. It had been so long since I had relief I could only roll my eyes back and slowly start pulling on myself.
Claire could only gasp in surprise as I lost myself in the pleasure flowing through my body. Her mouth opened to speak but she said nothing.
It was such an intense feeling- the fresh air, the warm sun, a beautiful girl watching my every movement. I couldn't hold back. I'd needed it and with a deep moan I erupted. It splattered on my chest, marked the sand and flowed down my fist. I was still breathing deeply as I looked up at Claire. There was a wicked look in her eyes. "Aaron, that was very naughty of you. What will everyone else think?"

More later?

Respect and Devotion

No act is more romantic and displays a man's intentions as the humble act of kissing a woman's ass. Men have been bred to find such an act unmanly but I think it's the boldest move a man can make. It's the most honest show of respect a man can perform for a woman. It can't be faked and no one can question the integrity and love of a man that kneels and kisses his woman in such a way. Submissive or not, it's the perfect, most genuine, most loving act a man can ever show for the woman he loves.

How to weaken a man

Every man has a very personal relationship with his penis that women will never know. It is where we receive our greatest pleasure, the center of our masculinity and a source of pride while also causing us our share of anxiety, stress and for some disappointment. It often leads us to the wrong decision, influencing our judgment though it is a woman's best tool to draw a man into submission.

Throughout his life every man is directed by it in one way or another. It compels us to go against our better judgment and tempts us. It is to a woman's advantage when she understands how much it affects a man's mind and how much of a hold it has over him. If she can tame his cock and lead it to her any man will helplessly follow.



Often referred to as a wife's best friend, a man's penis can be the quickest route to a woman drawing out her man's submission. Give it enough attention but not too much, let him know how special it is to you and let him know you control it through your actions. Keep it eager, keep it hungry and keep it hard. Play with female controlled chastity while you enjoy orgasm after orgasm. The more a man is kept stimulated without orgasm the more he begins to truly understand the needs of a woman. The intensity and the need grow to a point that a man is helpless. If done right, all his thoughts, his only concern will be for his woman.

Use this power wisely, it is more powerful than you imagine. A man is never so submissive as when he realizes a woman has dominion over the most male part of him.

Following Her Lead

Women, even those that are dominant, want a man that will make certain actions that would be seen as dominant. In most of the relationships I've been in, even the dominant ones, I'm the one who makes the first move and the first kiss. I'm the one who comes and and expresses enough interest and asks her out on a date. Though it may not be the same for everyone, it has been my experience.

I've decided that now, when I become serious about a woman and believe she is right for me I will let her know through my words and actions but I won't make any moves. I will be receptive towards all she does and make it known that I will do whatever she wants and accept her decisions, but I will not be so bold as to try to milk affection from her. I won't phrase it in such a way but if she's the type of woman I'm looking for she'll understand and sense this from me.

I know this sounds a bit immature, leaving it up to the woman to do all the "work" in the relationship but I don't look at it that way. I'll be open to whatever she likes and will only refuse if there is a good reason I can't (sickness, harm, excessive fear). I'm not speaking specifically about sex, I'm mostly talking about relationship matters. I want to be monogamous for her. I want to be chaste and I want to express it. I want to acknowledge I am submissive through my deeds and admit to my weaknesses as a man.

When I think about truly giving my heart to a woman I'm scared almost beyond words. I have done that before and it left me empty, disappointed, hurt and disraught. I give myself completely and make myself too vulnerable and have never had it reciprocated. Strange, because I'm usually extremely careful about getting attached. I've only been attached to (what I thought were) exceptional women.

My goal in all this is for a woman to become bolder about her wants and expect them without hesitation. My goal is for a woman I love to propose to me (with me on bended knee, of course) knowing the answer before she finished asking the question.



My weaknesses....I touched upon that in this post and it's something I've been considering for a while. I need to save that for another post. That is a larger topic that I must spend more time on.

Pegging: Gaining Favor?

Now and then I will bring up Literotica and find some stories that entertain me for the moment, depending on what kink I'm in the mood for. Often my tastes run to femdom or some variation, but I may hunger for humiliation or something deeper. Exhibitionism, role play, most nights I can find a story to fit what I'm looking for pretty closely.
This night I couldn't decide so skimmed through the fetish section, sort of a grab bag of fantasies. I closed my eyes and reached in...

I've been coming to that site for a few years now and never have I seen so many stories on female to male strap on sex. It looks every other story is about a woman finally turning the tables on her usually dominant husband.

I'm not complaining, after all my last post praised the benefits of humbling penetration on men, but it seems like pegging has become the new kink trend of the year.

My guess is it's due to men being encouraged to get more in touch with their feminine side and become more emotionally open. I wouldn't know, I'm still a virgin in that area, though I do love anal play when done by a woman that knows her way around a man's hole.

Be a Good Boy

and have a Merry Christmas

When Everything Came Out

This may be difficult for some to read. At points it was difficult for me to write and if I publish this I'm not sure if I won't ever delete it. I think it helps explain much of what I feel and helps me to put it into words. In any case, if this upsets you I would advise you to stop reading and move on to the next entry or another blog but what I say is all true, as is everything else I write on this site.

I know that much of my sexual needs stem from my childhood. I'm sure if you research Freud or spend some time in psychology texts you'll find out that a lot of our sexuality takes root in that period. At least that seems to be my case.
I grew up in a very strict household where punishment was the rule. The problem is it wasn't tempered with care or rationale. Most discipline was meted out angrily without distinction between the harmful and the helpful and I often ended up bruised and bloody after a misguided punishment. It wasn't pleasurable to me in the least, in fact I was deathly afraid of it, which is why I find it strange that I look for discipline as a grown man.
I wouldn't want it at the level I received as a child but I think the two are definitely tied together. In my fantasies I recall imaginary scenarios that salve my memories where spankings are done lovingly from a caring parent rather than as haphazardly and brutally as they were. I remember the pain being more than I could stand yet at times I find the idea of a strict parent sensual.
It's twisted I know. It's something I have grappled with for some time. It has reared its head in several of my relationships, both vanilla and non. I'm very protective of myself as a sub for this very reason and find myself discussing what should and shouldn't happen, a very unsubmissivelike managing of things, because I am afraid of going through what I went through many years ago.
Up until a few years ago I had blocked it out. I remembered very little but only during the post coital comfort and exchange of secrets did a past girlfriend draw it out. I don't remember what started it, but I made a casual mention to an act in my childhood which she, being a very compassionate woman, questioned me about. Without realizing it I had exhumed all I had kept hidden from myself. I cried silently, unable to decipher what I was feeling. She helped me through it but the flood of emotions came out that was unlike what I had expected before. It was freeing and exhiliarating though I felt weak and small. Though I had considered submission for sometime before that, I never really felt it at that moment. She was neither sub nor domme and I couldn't express it to her, even if I was able to identify it myself.

Many years later I was having a mostly sexual affair with a woman many years my senior. Our age difference was so great that I could almost be considered her son. When we went out many thought we were. We made a joke of it and would give them no reason not to think otherwise. We were just a very close mother and son.
She was dominant, which she established early on. She especially loved spanking and I spent a good deal of time over her lap getting spanked for some intentional or inadvertent error that angered her. She was adept at spanking and considered it one of a woman's innate talents. Afterwards we would make love until both of us shuddered and dropped into each others arms listlessly.
One time I committed an error that really upset her. I believed she behaved irrationally as well and called her on it. We spent some time not speaking and stewing over it but when that passed I was to be punished, which I knew would be the result.
I was stripped completely naked, a state I usually enjoyed around her but feared this time. I saw very little arousal in her at all. It was all about making up for the wrongs I committed and doing her duty as a woman and my elder.
It was a difficult evening. The punishment began without a warm up when I was put over her lap and given an uncountable number of slaps to my bare ass. None were soft and teasing and each was meant to provoke and sting without remorse. I don't remember when I started crying but I suspect it was earlier than usual.
There was little respite afterwards. I was put over the end of her bed where I was paddled briskly until I was shaking. Her talent with the paddle was cruel and was enough for one punishment session. Instead it was merely the intermission.
Unable to stand, I crawled to the center of her bed where I lay face down, my rear end an already swelling bruise. It was sometime around this point that I lost comprehension. I'm not sure if I ever went into subspace before and still question if I ever have but I slipped into a new state then. I was a child, bawling my eyes out, face in the pillow, small, weak, angry as my bottom was being whipped.
My lover was at that moment using the cane on me, something which I felt little of before that day and dreaded. She never used it for play since I hated it so. That night she used it without restraint. It was terrible pain. It burned and seared. I felt open, wet and uncomfortably hot. I was no longer able to speak but only blubbered, my face wet and my emotions running rampant through me. All I had ever felt growing up came through me at that time.
I felt angry, helpless, lost and hated but something else happened. I began to crave those feelings. They turned into something wonderful. I felt euphoric and thankful for the burning and my lover for administering what I so greatly needed.
The negative feelings; the hurt, the sadness, were replaced with love, security and acceptance. I still had difficulty ascertaining where and who I was but I knew everything was right in my world. I was loved and cared for and didn't need to know anything else.

I don't remember how long she actually punished me, though it was longer than I needed. I cried out at one point, a mixture of pain, anguish and ecstasy and she stopped soon after that.

I couldn't do anything. I could not move, speak or even think as I should. I couldn't receive affection though I'm sure she stayed to give it. I was in an emotional freeze, slowly thawing out to be the man I was, with slight differences.
I still have difficulty with much of this and still have horrible memories but I've come to accept them as part of who I am. I'm proud for overcoming what I've been through and thankful for all they've done for me, though I would never recommend it for anyone else. I struggle with it occasionally but I know ultimately that I have nothing to be afraid of. Perhaps it's made me hold my submission closer and understand it better.

Reversal of Roles

All men live in fear of a woman realizing the sexual power within her and society is now encouraging women to look inside themselves and find what generations of women before them have been kept from.
In the last few years more and more women are coming to realize the power they hold over men. Women are taking on roles once reserved only for men while men are taking on more feminine roles. They are expected to become caregivers and (at least) equals in keeping a home. Subsequently men are taking on characteristics on believed to be feminine. Less people believe it is out of place for a man to cry or become emotional in certain circumstances.
One sign of the growing reversal between men and women's roles is the prevalence of female to male strap on sex. More and more men are forced to face one of their greatest fears- being anally penetrated by a woman strong enough to put a man beneath her. The very position of a male being penetrated by a woman is submissive- his head down, his naked rear end up and open, his genitals hanging low- it is the most humbling position a man can have in front of a woman.





After being penetrated in such a way it's difficult for a man to look at the woman the same way again. Their relationship goes to a completely new level. Even if she doesn't take the superior role ever again, the fact that she once did, and may in the future, is enough to shame even the most secure man. Getting fucked in the ass by a woman is something that stays with him forever and burns itself onto his feelings. He realizes he is not the man he thought he was and his submission, even if slight, is enough to weaken him to a woman's power. It is a lot for a man to accept.