Exploring My Kinks and Relationships as a Bi-Submissive

I’m Brandy, a 28-year-old bi-submissive with a penchant for the finer things in life. My 5’4″ frame is adorned with 115 pounds of curves, blonde hair, and brown eyes that sparkle with mischief. My 32C breasts are a sight to behold, especially when they’re pushed to the forefront by a low-cut navy dress that’s tailored to perfection. I’ve made it a point to wax my pubic area, tired of the constant upkeep of shaving. It was a painful process, but one that’s yielded a sleek, smooth finish that’s become the norm.

I’ve been a submissive for most of my life, although it wasn’t until recently that I realized what that truly meant. I’ve come to learn that I prefer men, but I’ve also discovered a deep appreciation for the feminine touch. My Doms and Femdoms know me well, and I’m upfront with them about my desires and boundaries. With a strict adherence to safety protocols, I’ve been able to explore my kinks and fetishes without fear of judgment or repercussions.

My journey has been a winding one, filled with twists and turns that have led me to where I am today. I’ve had my fair share of Doms and Femdoms, each with their own unique approach to our encounters. Some have been gentle, while others have pushed me to my limits. I’ve come to appreciate the thrill of the unknown, and the sense of security that comes with knowing I’m in good hands.

I met my first Dom shortly after graduating from college. He was strict, to say the least, and took great pleasure in training me to obey his every command. I’ll be the first to admit that it wasn’t easy, but the end result was well worth it. I learned to cum on command, a skill that’s served me well in my subsequent relationships. My Doms know about this aspect of my personality, and they use it to their advantage. As for me, I’ve come to enjoy the thrill of submission, and the sense of surrender that comes with it.

As a woman in a male-dominated industry, I’ve learned to navigate the waters with ease. My job in the Financial District of Manhattan requires a certain level of professionalism, but I’ve found ways to express myself without crossing any boundaries. I’m popular around the office, not just for my looks, but for my outgoing personality and willingness to help others. I’ve even been known to tease the men in my office, much to their dismay. It’s all in good fun, of course, and I take great pleasure in knowing that I’ve left them wanting more.

But my life took an unexpected turn when my manager, Frank, called me into his office. He was pleasant, as always, but his expression was serious. He handed me a letter from my Human Resources file, and I knew I was in trouble. Several of my colleagues had complained about my attire, and I was given an ultimatum: change my style, or face the consequences. I knew I had to think fast, so I hatched a plan that would leave Frank speechless.

“I’m sorry, Frank,” I said, trying to sound contrite. “I didn’t know there was a dress code. I want to issue a formal open apology to anyone I offended.” I led him down the hall to a room in the back of the office, one that was usually off-limits. I pointed to a filing cabinet, and Frank followed my gaze. That’s when I dropped the bombshell: I slid my sleeves and bra straps off my shoulders, exposing my breasts. Frank was taken aback, but I quickly pinned him against the cabinet and began to undress him. Before he knew what was happening, I had his cock in my mouth, and he was powerless to stop me.

Frank: “Brandy, what are you doing?!

As I stood up, still holding Frank’s cock, I slipped off my shoes and panties and turned him around. “I don’t think rules are meaningful if they don’t have consequences,” I said, my voice husky with desire. I sat on the file cabinet, spreading my legs wide, and gazed up at Frank. “I think you’re going to have to fuck me so that I understand why the dress code is so important.” My words hung in the air, and I wrapped my legs around Frank, pulling him toward me.

Frank’s cock slid into my wet pussy, and I felt it stretch me wide. I had to pull hard to accommodate his size, but it was worth it. I moaned softly as Frank began to fuck me, his movements slow and deliberate at first. As he became more lubricated, he picked up speed, his cock stroking my g-spot with precision.

“If you think I need to orgasm, just say ‘cum’,” I whispered, my voice muffled by my panties in my mouth. I pulled them out, and Frank’s eyes locked onto mine. For a moment, I thought he hadn’t heard me, but then he reached down and pressed his fingers onto my clit, rubbing it fast and hard.

I moaned loudly, my body shaking with pleasure. Frank’s fingers worked magic, and I felt myself building toward an orgasm. “Cum,” he said finally, and I came hard, my body rigid with pleasure. Frank continued to rub my clit, and I bit down on my panties, trying to stifle my cries of ecstasy.

As my orgasm subsided, Frank resumed fucking me, his movements slow and steady. My chest was heaving with exertion, and I felt a sense of satisfaction wash over me. But Frank’s pace picked up again, and he was breathing hard, his cock stroking my g-spot with increasing intensity.

Just when I thought he was about to cum, Frank pulled out of me, and I quickly realized he hadn’t been given permission to do so. I dropped to my knees, grabbed his cock, and began sucking him hard, rubbing his shaft with my fingers. Frank’s eyes widened in surprise, and I felt a sense of triumph as he came in my mouth.

I swallowed every drop of his cum, and then licked his cock clean, drying it with my panties. As I sat back on my heels, Frank looked at me with a mixture of pleasure and bewilderment. I smiled, knowing I’d given him a new experience.

I stood up, smoothing my dress, and said, “I think we should leave separately, just in case.” Frank nodded, and we parted ways, leaving the file cabinet and its secrets behind.

I went back to Frank’s office, closing the door behind me. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Frank,” I said, my voice innocent. “I thought we had a very productive and professional counseling session.” Frank’s eyes narrowed, and I knew I’d bought myself some time.

“It was Norma who instigated this,” Frank said, his voice measured. “I’m sure she pressured a few of the others to sign the letter.” He dropped it into the shredder, and I felt a surge of relief. “As for the dress code, you can wear whatever you want as long as you continue to perform your job well.” I smiled, feeling a sense of triumph.

“Why do you think Norma would write that letter?” I asked, my curiosity piqued. Frank explained her jealousy, and I felt a pang of understanding. I stood up, smoothing my dress, and said, “I’m glad you’re pleased with me, Frank.” I left his office, feeling a sense of satisfaction and intrigue.

As I sat back at my desk, I couldn’t help but think about Frank and the things we could have done in the right place and time. I made a mental note to ask Norma out for a drink, and we became fast friends.

And yes, I now had a set of new outfits to wear to work, designed to tease and drive my male colleagues to distraction. But for now, I was content to sit back and enjoy the aftermath of my encounter with Frank, knowing that our secret would stay locked away in the file cabinet, hidden from prying eyes.