Make me your gimp

Make me your gimp

Confessing my fetish to Julie had taken a lot of courage. We’d sat down one night and I’d come out and told her I enjoyed being dominated. Then I’d told her about my rubber fetish and my urges to be a gimp. I’d sat back and waited for her to kick me out.

Maybe she’d already picked up on the signs. She took control in the bedroom easily and a few of my jokes about her tying me up had been well received. Whatever it was the reaction was a calm “I need to think about this”, a subdued “good night” and my expectation that I’d never hear from her again.

Not the case. We sat down a week later in the afternoon and she looked through my latex gear. Her attitude was more curious that interested, but I figured it was a good start. Sex stopped though.

A couple of “is this what should I do” type questions followed, along with a link to a couple of porn videos she’d found. I did what I could to reassure her and tried to quell the thought in the back of my mind that I’d blown it. In the four months we’d been dating I’d fallen head over heels in love, which was why I’d decided to come out to her.

And then came the bombshell.

“Look, John, I’m curious and I love you and I want to give this a go,” she said on the phone that morning.

“OK,” I said, trying to sound reassuring but pretty sure I just came across as excited. My heart was already going fifteen to the dozen.

“It’s got to be on my terms. You understand that, right?”

“Sure,” I replied. Thinking it was a little flippant I added, “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

The pause on the other end was a bit frightening, but I knew she was drumming up courage for what came next.

“OK,” she said as if letting go of her own fears, “so this is what I want to happen. Today I finish work at two, so I can be at your place by three. When I get there I want you kneeling in the middle of the living room in your rubber gimp gear. I want you totally covered up in that stuff and I want you wearing that mask you showed me with all the zips. And I want them done up. Got that?”

My heart was close to exploding.

“Of course.”

“I mean it, John. I don’t want you seeing me or speaking to me until I’m ready.”

“I totally understand,” I said. “And don’t worry. It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”

“I love you,” she said and ended the call.

Which is how, at three o’clock that afternoon I was in the middle of my living room on my knees in my latex suit. It was black latex, custom made to fit me perfectly with a zip that ran from my navel through my legs to my back. I wore gloves and socks with it and the mask with the zips across my eyes and mouth. All of it shone to perfection. And worn by a guy who was too nervous to get an erection, so excited all he could hear was the pounding in his ears.

I knelt on the floor with my back to the door and my hands resting in the small of my back. I decided that was best so she wouldn’t be freaked out if she saw me facing her. There was no logic behind that decision, just it felt right. Just as it felt right to wait on my knees rather than sit on the sofa and drop down when I heard the key in the lock. Maybe I was scared I’d miss the sound and get off to a bad start.

After I’d been there five or six minutes I heard the key in the lock. I tensed up, fear charging through me like a steam train. It was a fear that when she was faced by the sight of me completely covered in shiny latex she’d freak out and run.

The door opened long enough for me to know she’d come inside. I heard it slam shut on its fire hinges and then the rustle of her coat being placed on the coat rack by the door. It wouldn’t be long now, just a few short steps along the hallway and she’d open the living room door and see me there. Just as she asked. Just as I’d hoped she would.

My excitement grew as I heard the squeak of the living room door. There was a sound, maybe a gasp, and I knew she’d seen me. I took a deep breath, hoping she was going to stay.

Even with the thick latex over my ears and the carpet on the floor I could make out the sound of her footsteps. She was coming towards me, my imagination picturing her eyes looking over my gimp form, curiosity come alive. The blackness in the mask seemed to shift a little as she crossed in front of me, passing by the window and the bright sun streaming in through the net curtains. I wondered if I should have shut the curtains completely. It was too late now.

I shivered when her fingers rested gently on the top of my head. It was the first time she touched me while I was in latex and it was a sensation so wonderful it was burned into my mind. I tried to control myself and restrain my excitement.

Her fingers turned on my head as she walked round me again, her hand slowly sliding down until it rested under my jaw. By then she was behind me and she used her grip to ease me back against her legs.

I started breathing heavily as she placed her other hand gently on my shoulder and started sliding down the latex to my chest. When she brushed my nipple I moaned.

“Shhhh,” she whispered gently in my ear.

I tried to nod, only her grip on my jaw was firmer than I expected. Instead my bit my lip and held back any sound as her fingers gently circled and teased my swollen teat.

“Nice?” she breathed.

I nodded as best I could, the grip a little less than before.

“Good.”

She released me completely and I sensed her move over to the sofa and sit. There was a long pause, enough for me to get my breath back and calm down a little. Only a little though as being in the same room as her like this was intense.

I heard her fingers click and took that as a sign to turn to her. They clicked again and I realised she wanted me closer. Gently I shuffled forwards, fearful I might bump into her. There was no chance of that as her hand was there to stop me where she wanted me.

Another pause, much longer this time. I knew she was looking at me, trying to work out what she thought about this latex clad creature in front of her. Maybe this was the point where she decided it was all too much and left me. Maybe she was filming me, ready to stick it on Facebook with some caption about her pervert ex-boyfriend. Maybe, hopefully, she was enjoying it.

The zip over my mouth moved. It was opened, cool air flowing over my lips and mixing with the sweat.

“Thank you,” I tried to say. I didn’t finish as a firm slap across my right cheek shut me up.

Shock stunned me in to silence. Julie had hit me hard, much harder than I thought she would. It wasn’t the pain that stopped me though, it was the realisation that right now I was her submissive. The fantasies I’d had about her dominating me weren’t fantasies any longer. The woman sitting on the sofa, the same sofa we cuddled up on to watch movies and play xBox, expected my obedience. We were no longer equals.

Her hand was pressing on the back of my head and I allowed myself to be guided down to the floor. My cheek brushed her shoe and I was tempted to reach out with my tongue. Only my lesson had been learnt and until I received an instruction I would remain on the floor.

The instruction was no more than her prodding me with it. Instinctively I pushed my tongue out of the mask and started licking at the rough leather. As I revelled its sweet taste I traced the outline, discovering she was wearing high heel boots with a zip on the instep and what felt like leather jeans. Once, when she’d been on an overnight course, I’d performed this same act on a pair of her patent court shoes, imagining her stood over me in her business suit demanding I do better. To my shame I’d cum on them, though I’d never brought myself to lick them clean as my fantasy Mistress demanded. Would I now?

Now her hand wanted me to rise back to my kneeling position, which I quickly did. The zip was drawn shut over my mouth, a clear sign silence was demanded.

The soul of her boot pressed into my crotch. I held back a grunt of discomfort as she probed me. When I’d put the suit on I’d made sure my penis was pointing upwards, ready for the inevitable erection. With her foot pushed into me I realised I wasn’t erect. I was excited and every part of me was turned on, but my dick was still soft. The fantasy met reality again and I hadn’t been given permission, so I hadn’t gotten hard. Even with her firm pressure and the side to side movement she applied I resisted. It was tough.

When the foot went down I rocked forward, catching myself before I tumbled. I realised I was a little light headed, probably a mix of the excitement and having to breath through two small nose holes in the mask. I thought about adjusting it, or maybe asking for her to free my mouth again, then decided not to.

She stood, turning me a little to the right with her hand. I felt her grip the fastener for the zip over my eyes and instinctively closed them.

“Keep your eyes shut until I click my fingers,” she whispered in my ear as if able to see what I was doing.

Gently she eased the zip across, freeing my eyes. I remained where I was, eyes firmly shut but able to make out a little shift in brightness behind my lips as she moved. I figured she’d sat in the corner of the sofa and was watching me again, eyes running up and down me as she decided what to do with me next. My own mind was racing with fantasies, focused on what Julie was wearing. High heel boots, leather trousers, but what else? A bra top? A crisp white blouse? What?

Her fingers clicked and I opened my eyes.

As my eyes adjusted a wave of confusion rushed through me. It was Julie on the sofa looking at me with her head cocked to one side, but at the same time it wasn’t. She was older, a little larger, her brown hair longer and flecked with grey. Then panic took over.

“Stay!” she snapped.

Something in me froze.

Casually sat in the corner of the sofa with her legs crossed and her hands relaxed in her lap was Alicia, Julie’s mother. I’d met her a couple of times before, she was a nice woman, attractive for her age and pleasant company. She’d been friendly towards me, although I’d always detected she was a little distant from me. A little like she thought she was superior. I guess I understood why now.

“Julie told me all about your ‘preferences’,” she said, placing extra emphasis on ‘preferences’ as if to suggest she didn’t approve. “That was why I told her to have you dress up in your ‘gimp’ suit and wait for her to get home. I wanted to see for myself.”

I was starting to feel hot. My embarrassment had shot off the scale and the more she spoke the more humiliated I felt.

“Julie and I have a very close relationship,” she continued. “We share everything, including the dirty little secrets of her boyfriends. And let’s face it, your secret is very dirty!”

The way she spoke made me feel like I was being told off by a school teacher. There was a firm matter-of-factness in her voice that rammed right into me and made me feel like the idiot I was. I’d trusted Julie with my fetishes and this was how she betrayed me.

“I suspect that right now you’re pretty pissed off with her,” Alicia continued. “I would be too, only there’s no need. Like I said, we share everything and as of now that includes you.”

The world stopped turning.

“She loves you, John, but she doesn’t know how to own a little gimp like you. Whereas I do. I owned her father right up until he died, and now I’ve got to pass this knowledge on to her. You understand what I’m saying, right?”

I don’t know if I did or not, but I nodded anyway.

“Good,” she said and smiled warmly. “As of now you’ll call me ‘Ma’am’. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“Good. When you’re alone you’ll call my daughter ‘Miss Julie’. Understand that?”

Again I nodded.

“Excellent. Any minute now she is going to come in here and we’re going to start her training. And I stress it’s her training, not yours. What you think you want, need or desire is now irrelevant, just as it should be for a submissive little pervert like you. You do understand that, don’t you?”

For what seemed like an eternity I didn’t answer. My mind was racing, trying to make sense of it all. Fantasy was one thing, but this? This was reality and I wasn’t sure. I kept remembering all the times she’d taken control in the bedroom and how she’d decided what we were going to do and acted as if I’d no choice in the matter. I remembered the joy I got from massaging her feet after a long day at work, or her delight at the meals I cooked. The latex didn’t matter, that was just dressing, I was already submissive to her.

I nodded my agreement.

Alicia smiled. She looked past me and gestured. My heart started pounding as I heard the footsteps behind me. A hand brushed my shoulder and I shuddered at her touch. Julie appeared before me, her hands on her hips, her full lips spread in a wide smile.

“Hello, gimp,” she said. “I hope this proves to be everything you wanted.”

So do I, Miss Julie.

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About Razz

I'm a creative dominant type with a love of BDSM and fetishism. This blog is an outlet, so don't take anything you see or read too seriously.

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