Emotions are a bitch. For some reason this crossed my mind briefly as Mistress Kalyss kept shaving me while I lay on the floor with legs drawn back. Collared and leashed. A cocktail of feelings swirled furiously. Like a black hole relentlessly pulling you in. Tempting, alluring, insidious and compelling. Did I hesitate to submit? Not physically, but perhaps a fundamental core opposed the total submission mentally. It was bound to be short lived.

I may not be the typical stereotype of subs. If these exist. The residual resistance, enforced by years as a primarily dominant character, lay there in intricate woven layers. When I analyze it in hindsight, it was probably an issue with accepting that being humiliated and dominated is one of the primary triggers of my sexuality. It’s not like I haven’t explored this theme before, but none have deserved my submission. Perhaps that was the reason why I lay there in the first place. To see if these women existed. She did indeed.

The smell of leather. My mouth eagerly licking her boots. Her satisfied smile as she pulls me higher. The sound of chains. The lion adheres.

The interplay was interesting. More aptly, the mindfuck was impressive. She quickly primed my curious and expecting mind. Followed by various levels of disciplinary and behavioral correction. I played along in the beginning. Trying in vain to impress. Like she had not seen subs do this before. Focused on tasks, rather than to feel and be present. Obviously, she picked up it and scholarly tempted me on a different path. She guided me expertly through a rollercoaster she created. Empowering and cementing correct behavior, punishing unwanted. Gradually I slid into the state she intended.

My arms bound in ropes. My legs spread apart. My senses constrained. She abused me. Pain. Welcoming pain. The lion whimpers.

Mistress Kalyss is imposing. She does not control by force or fear, it’s significantly more elaborate and compelling. A laugh appears out of nowhere at exactly the right moment. A sudden change into a lower vocal tone makes you cringe slightly. The soft-spoken, but unquestionable commanding order, you immediately follow. Her presence is pure and authentic blended with, make no doubt about it, a hardcore perverse attraction. By conjuring a metaphysical bond that somehow generates a need to submit to her, one is gradually caught in the web. A web of perversion, lust and raw hunger to sink deeper into the darkness.

She led me by the leash attached to my white collar. On my knees I followed willingly. The lion roars. Into the next level. The only place I want to be. I am hers.

I felt a longing to please Mistress in every way and looking for ways to pleasure her even when it was not requested. My deep-rooted self was fundamentally altered. I craved to be used by Mistress in any manner that suited her. She manipulated my sensations both physically and mentally continuously. I felt utterly used and loved it.

I whimper and moan as she pushed into me again and again. Harder. Faster. A girlish cry escapes my lips. She smiles knowingly. All barriers gone now, no restraints and stripped of all decency. She senses it before I do. The moment where one truly accepts the role as a slave. I meet her eyes briefly. A lonely tear appears and runs slowly down my chin.

The pervasion continued and culminated in a grand crescendo where time and place does not exist. Finally I opened the innermost door to a room never visited before. I’ve always known the room to exist, but it’s eluded me until now. As Mistress pounded me hard, I entered willingly. A dark and perverse room draped in raw and pure lust. The stonefloor was cold to the touch of my naked feets. A deep, pulsating beat draws me further into the darkness. I’m suddenly aware of metal-cuff around my wrist and ankles. I hear Mistress laugh. A confident and knowing laughter. She knows where I am. The door shut behind me with a hammering noise. She is there, my Mistress. Seated on a large grotesque throne and clad in an obscene blood-colored leathery outfit with vicious spikes and nails. Her black hair beneath a nightmarish crown. She commands me to crawl towards her. I am shackled in metal chains to the floor beneath the throne. Ready to be used whenever the demoness so wishes.

I am Leonidas.

Named by Mistress after she tamed the lion.

She holds the leash.