I Ended Up With A Man As Dominant As My Father

I am the oldest of three sisters. My mother was an alcoholic and my father walked all over her. He was a non commissioned officer in the Army and we lived in several bases growing up. It was up to me to be the one in charge, my mother was not able to her part. I was dominant and bossy, and my sisters did what I said.

Later in high school and with friends I was the dominant one. And if a younger girl was more like my sisters she was my favorite friend. Even then, when we were still growing up, I dressed my girlfriends and undressed them. I liked to bathe them, and wash them really well. I kissed them of course, loved to kiss their lips. And since I bathed them I would suck on their nipples and kiss their private parts. I wanted to. It wasn't by accident, I wanted to very much. By the time I was sixteen I was eating girls out, forcing orgasms and making out.

My father retired to Puerto Rico and my mother was totally passed out. I ran the house, and my sisters were the maids. On our block where we lived was a modeling house. Where young girls went to learn how to dress and how to walk. How many of those girls I kissed I lost count.

I went to university living with an aunt. She was divorced and worked as an office lady. She was the first one to call me out. Why don't you get a boyfriend? You need a boyfriend. If anyone ever deserved to be put in her place its you. I hope some man comes around and teaches you to obey. I kept looking for girls that I could kiss. I never had one thought of being with some guy.

She had a reception for me when I graduated from University, mostly friends of hers, which were mostly women but also some men. During the reception I got into an argument with one of the men. I did not agree with him about anything he said. I got angry and threw a glass of wine at him. He responded by grabbing me by the arm and shoving me over the table with all the food and plates and glasses, which went tumbling onto the floor. Holding me by my twisted arm, he took off his belt and managed with one hand to get my pants down, before taking the belt to my naked ass. One, Two , Three whacks. I felt each one of them, they went through me all the way to my heart. Four, Five, Six whacks. I was crying then, but he wasn't going to stop. Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten whacks.

I fell to the floor to pull my pants up. My aunt looked down on me, I told you one day you were going to be put in your place. Her friends looked at me, a couple asked me did it hurt, one said that her father used to take the belt to her, she learned early to shut up. And the man who took the belt to me, he forced me into a sexual relationship with him. At first it was forced, later it became passive resistance, but he was always able to take what he wanted. In the end I was performing sexual oral acts on him to please him before he took me sexually to quiet his need for me. Finally, I had given up. I agreed to marry him.

A dominant man cannot be fought. My mother failed with my father and I failed with my husband. I did not turn to drink, I turned to children and women's groups and close friends. I never failed in my duties, I was never again going to make him mad. My children learned very early to give respect. At times I call him Master, at other times Sir. I never call him by his name.

My sisters married dominant men as well. We all ended up in a dominant man's house. We all have children and kept house. I came to like women's dresses and women's shoes and women's j*welry to wear. My hair is still short, but cut by a hairdresser with a small feminine twist. I learned to undress in front of my husband and allow him to see me bathe. I think often of those young girls at the modeling house, all those young girls I kissed. I wonder how many of them would be surprised that I ended up married to this man.