I will count to ten now

I am a brat. I really identify with that role. I am not talking about the princessy brat that feels entitled and special. I am the kind of brat that pokes, that says no with a twinkle in her eye, that tries to manipulate her way out of things. I love being forced to do things things, to fight over power and control. Heck, I love wrestling to get shown that the Dom is the superior! And I love saying “Make me!”. I used to be involved with a Master that I had a very special connection with. Our whole dynamic was very natural. We just went with the flow, we trusted each other to use safewords when needed. (Ever had a Dom yell the safeword at you because you were too pokey and too bratty? I have! #ProudBrat ). And he could just make me submit, like magic. I mean, of course it is in me, to want to submit. I want to, I will, I am going to, just a little more teasing and poking. But he had the kind of presence where I was unable to not slip into subspace when he tried to guide me there. It was just boom, and gone I was! So the following story is about a temper tantrum that I threw and how it all turned into a really different situation! I might need to add that him and I often had a very rough sexual relationship, and the names that he called me where previously okayed by me as being used in play.

We were having a heated conversation. He sometimes just blurted things out without thinking how rude they actually were in that context. This time he dared to comment that a certain hairstyle would fit me well.. No one is telling me how to dress or what to do with my hair and make-up! I am not anyone’s doll! He always found it amusing when I started to get angry about things that were actually not very serious. His amused reaction to my anger only pushed me more.

So he told me that I would look better in a different haircut. How dare he! How dare he even think that he has a say in what I look like! I am a strong independent woman and I make my own decisions! He was starting to chuckle. Oh, how dare he laugh at me! I am to be taken seriously, I am a person after all! The smile on his face just made me angrier. Before, I was loudly protesting. But now, now I was really angry. I started to yell, I started to call him names! “You idiot, how can you even think I’d take freaking advice from you? You know nothing about style!”. His face was calm, his eyes showed barely any emotional reaction. He smiled again.

I was infuriated! How can he not react? I was angry, I was yelling at him. “You twat! You cunt! Why do you think you have control over me like that? I do what I want with my hair. With my looks. With my life. Gah! You you you!”. The look on his face changed. Suddenly he had that look, that look of dominance. That look where he would just have to say the word and I was lost. He had a smirk on his face, his eyes were slightly squinting. I felt a tingle. A shiver ran down my spine. I became silent. One look by him, and I knew I was going to be lost, punished and used. My anger subsided, my need for gratification made itself felt.

“Whore, take your shirt and bra off!”, he calmly said to me. That word, the way he said it. There was no question that I was going to follow his orders. But part of me still felt a little of the anger and didn’t want to make it easy for him. First he thought he had a say in what I look like, and now he just wants me to submit. “No!”. “Ah, whore, we both know that you want it, and that you are going to do it. Take your shirt and your bra off. Now.”.

I was shivering of excitement but I just couldn’t yet. I am a strong and independent woman, I thought. “No! First you are rude and now you want me to just blindly follow your horny urges? Fuck you!”. He smiled at me. He accepted the challenge, I could see in his eyes how amused and excited he was.

“Well, you want to do it the hard way, eh? Okay, I will count to ten now. If you are still wearing clothes at ten, you know what will happen.”

“What will happen? I don’t know what will happen, and I am not scared of you!”

“What will happen, Master.”

“What will happen, Master?” Oh no, he got me. I am so easy. I was starting to slide into that space where I am all his, where I obey and please. I wanted to be in that space, but I didn’t want to make it easy for him! I growled a little.

“Letting your animalistic side out, whore? I like it! Still angry, are we?” He chuckled. “One”

I didn’t want to. I looked at him. God, I wanted him to just take me, to rip my clothes off my body and just take me here and there. “I am not going to do it, Master!”

“Two”. He smiled.

I was starting to get uneasy and restless. But he was not going to get what he wanted! How dare he even. “I said no, Master. I am angry with you. I am not doing it.”


I wasn’t even giving him a reply to that. I knew I wanted it but I was not going to do it. I was angry and he was now turning my anger into some kind of sex game. That was not cool. Pfft!




I was wondering what the punishment was going to be. Unfair, why would I be punished for telling him off about something that was none of his business anyway!

“Seven.” He was slowly walking over to the drawer. The drawer with our toys. The drawer with all the wonderful things that give pain, that prolong pleasure. I felt excitement and fear run over me. My legs were trembling.


I whispered: “No, Master”.

His eyes became squinty. I couldn’t see what he was holding behind his back. I didn’t know what to do. Maybe it was silly of me to get that overly upset about one comment he made. It was not like he had told me what to do. He had just given me his opinion.


I was starting to panic. I am a strong independent woman. No No No! But I couldn’t stop it anymore. The fear, the anticipation, the excitement. I quickly took all my clothes off and let them fall to the floor. There I was, all naked, standing in front of him. He smiled at me.

“Good girl.”

He walked over to me and grabbed one of my nipples and put a nipple clamp on it, moving on to do the same thing to the other nipple. I squirmed. He looked me into the eyes:

“You didn’t think you would get away without punishment, now, did you, whore? Now be a good whore and walk over to the bed and present yourself to me.”

My nipples hurt. A sweet sweet pain that I had both anticipated and feared and that I was now enjoying. I walked over to the bed, laid on my back and spread my legs. I held up my thighs so he could see everything.

“Say it, whore!”

“This whore’s body belongs to you, Master. It is here to please you, to obey and to follow your instructions.”

“Good girl. Now touch yourself for me.”, he said, while slowly taking his clothes off. I did as I was told and when he finally decided it was time to use my body, I was so deep in the submissive space that I was almost floating above the bed.

Wicked Wednesday… a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

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8 Responses

  1. This is hot, hot, hot. I like how you start out all bratty and then he is totally in control! Thanks for sharing, and thanks for joining in with Wicked Wednesday. I hope to see you back next week ?
    Rebel xox

  2. Toy says:

    I loved this! I read so fast because I wanted to see what would happen. Then I went back and read it again to really take it in! Thank you for sharing!

  3. Molly says:

    The counting is hell, sweet delicious hell that is bascially a massive mind fuck

    • deviantdaeva says:

      Right? I love how it is fucking with your mind. It is not like you are fighting with the person counting, but your own mind is trying to fight off feelings and urges. Really awesome, hehe.

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