People say that intelligence is sexy. Wrong. Intelligence is sexy until you realize that your submissive is capable of analyzing behavioral patterns faster than you. I should add a new maxim to my list: "Don't date someone smarter than you."
Because that's the problem with intelligent submissives - while you're trying to maintain control, they've already found the optimal way to get exactly what they want.
Maybe someone can tell me I'm exaggerating. "Well, the dynamic is already set, even if you've given in a little. Everything will flow naturally." Sure, that person isn't warning you that your perfect submissive can turn into a rebellious fucking teenager overnight. And no, I'm not exaggerating - I've been wondering for days if Alex has suffered some kind of brain injury that has made him forget all the basic concepts of professional behavior.
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It all started last Wednesday. We had an important meeting with a client, one of those that require everyone to dress like functional adults and not like programmers fresh out of a 48-hour coding marathon.
"Good morning," Alex said as he walked in, and so far everything was normal. The problem was that as he passed by my chair, his fingers "accidentally" brushed against my neck. In the middle of the fucking meeting. With the fucking client in front.
I tensed up but maintained my composure. Okay, a slip-up. It can happen. He probably didn't even mean it.
But then he started with the pen.
You have to be kidding me with the pen. He put it in his mouth, suckling on it distractedly while "taking notes." And every time I looked in his direction (which was more often than I'd like to admit), he caught me watching him.
"Alex," I said when he finally finished the torture, "can you stay for a moment?"
I waited for everyone to leave. Including the client, who seemed pleased with the presentation. Normal, he wasn't the one who had to endure watching his submissive practice fellatio with a Bic in front of the entire department.
"What the hell was that?" I asked as soon as the door closed.
"The what, sir?" and I swear his innocent face almost made me doubt. Almost.
"You know perfectly well what. The... act with the pen. The touching as you passed. Have you lost your mind?"
"I was just taking notes," he replied, but there was something in his smile that annoyed me. As if he was... satisfied?
"Tonight," I growled, "we're going to have a very serious conversation about professional boundaries."
"Yes, sir," he replied, looking down in that gesture of submission that usually drove me crazy. But there was something... different. As if he was holding back a smile.
The "conversation" that night was... intense. I tied him up, made him beg, denied him orgasm until he was practically crying. A prime example of punishment that I was sure would make him think twice before behaving that way at work again.
How naïve I was.
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The next day he seemed perfectly normal. Professional. Composed. As if nothing had happened the night before. I breathed a sigh of relief - lesson learned.
Until the code review meeting came.
Alex decided it was a good time to stretch. Repeatedly. With his shirt riding up just enough to show a patch of skin where I knew he'd left marks the night before.
And when I say repeatedly, I mean he looked like a fucking cat freshly awakened from a nap. Stretching, arching his back, "unintentionally" showing more skin than necessary.
Laura caught me looking at him and raised an eyebrow. Great. Just great.
This time the punishment was harsher. I blindfolded him, tied him up, and put a beautiful chastity cage on him for the whole night. Once I was done with him, I admired my work. His little face completely smeared white, my boxers in his mouth as a gag (wait, are those my gym boxers?)
"Have you learned your lesson?" I asked while stroking his chin.
He nodded because he couldn't speak, but in his eyes, I clearly saw what I wanted. Why couldn't it be like this all the time?
And I, like a fool, believed him.
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Some time later, when the crisis wasn't even occupying space in my memory, Alex came into the office with that little smile of "I've been bad, but you don't know it yet" that should have put me on alert. But of course, being an idiot, I thought he was just in a good mood.
"Good morning, sir," he murmured as he passed by my desk, ensuring that only I could hear the "sir." And then, the little bastard, he bit his lip.
The first thing I thought was "I'm going to have to punish you AGAIN for this." The second was "shit, that's exactly what he wants." And the third was "since when am I so transparent?"
Mid-morning, during a team meeting, he sat right across from me. Normal, right? Except that every time I spoke, he would lick his lips. Very subtly, of course. So subtly that nobody else noticed. But I did, and the little son of a bitch knew it.
"Alex," I said when the meeting ended, "to my office."
His smile as he followed me should have given me another clue. But I was too busy thinking about how I was going to punish him.
"Close the door," I ordered.
He did. And he locked it. Without me telling him to.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I growled.
"Being bad?" he suggested with such false innocence that I almost laughed. Almost.
"Are you looking for me to punish you?"
"Is it working?"
And then I saw it. The way his eyes sparkled, how he bit his lip to hold back a smile... the little bastard had it all planned.
"You're not going to get what you want," I warned him.
"And what do you think I want, sir?" he asked, and damn, his voice when he says "sir" should be illegal.
"You want me to lose control. To fuck you right here, on my desk."
"Oh," he smiled, "then you do know what I want."
I grabbed him by the collar and pushed him against the wall. His moan was... too loud.
"Shh," I hissed, "do you want them to hear us?"
"Don't you?" he whispered, and I could feel his smile against my neck.
Shit. Double shit. The little bastard knew exactly what he was doing. And the worst part was that it was working.
"Tonight," I growled in his ear, "I'm going to punish you for this."
"Promises, promises..."
I let go of him as if he were burning. Which is exactly what he wanted, of course. Because now I'd have to spend the whole day watching him strut around the office, knowing that every "punishment" I planned was exactly what he was looking for.
"You can go," I said, trying to sound authoritative and not frustrated.
"Yes, sir," he replied, and I swear he put extra emphasis on the "sir" just to annoy me.
I watched him leave, with that air of satisfaction knowing he was winning.
And then I realized: I can't win this game. Not when he's the one who wrote the rules.
Time to change my strategy.
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That night there was no punishment. Watching a series, ordering takeout, and sleeping cuddled together. All very idyllic... until 6 in the morning.
"Good morning, princess," I said as I shoved my dick into his mouth.
The secret to coming a lot isn't about being dry for a while. It's all about shaking the lever for a long time before pulling water. After almost an hour and a half of using my sleepy, crusty submissive's head like a fleshlight, I had him kneeling in front of me. Alex was filled with the highest expectation, as if he were about to hit the jackpot rather than receiving a load, but that was when I executed the real plan. I completely pushed him away and grabbed a mask. One of the remnants we were given in the office during COVID, those shitty masks, not even of good quality. I jerked off with it, rubbed it on my balls, and, in the end, I came inside it.
The load was abundant, long, and thick. Damn, I think I shot a piece of my soul in that load too. My knees trembled a bit, but it wasn't the time to hesitate.
While Alex was completely confused, I put the mask on him, rubbing the entire load on his face. As I placed the elastic straps behind his flushed ears, with a little bite included, I said: "Today you're going to feel sick."
"All day?" he asked, and for the first time, I saw true nervousness in his eyes.
"All day," I confirmed. "And at every fucking moment, you'll remember exactly who you belong to."
"But sir... it's going to show..." Ah, panic. How much I had missed you.
"Shhhh," I said, as I adjusted the mask over his face, "let's spread it out nicely and wait for it to dry."
The effect was... fascinating.
That day, Alex was completely transformed. Every time he moved, the mask reminded him of his position. Every time he breathed, a new wave came through. And every time he looked at me, his eyes showed a mix of vulnerability and submission that made me feel powerful in a way that no punishment had ever achieved.
"Alex," I ordered during a meeting, "explain the new logging system."
He stood up, professional and composed as always. But every time he spoke, his hand moved unconsciously to pull the mask away from his nose, and I knew exactly why.
I pressed him during the presentation. I interrupted him. I made him defend every technical decision. And instead of rebelling or provoking as he would have done days before, he remained perfectly submissive and professional.
Laura looked at me oddly. "Is Alex okay? He's been avoiding me all day."
"He wouldn't want to infect you," I simply replied. What I didn't want was for him to smell like me.
I indulged myself by playing a little with my newfound power throughout the day. In the team meeting, I "accidentally" dropped the pen near his chair.
"Alex, could you...?" I didn't even have to finish the sentence. He immediately bent down to pick it up, and I could see how the mask had slipped. When he stood up, his cheeks were flushed.
"Thank you," I said with a smile that made him look down. "Very helpful lately."
Later on, I called him to my office. He stood in front of my desk, perfectly composed but with that new vulnerability that I loved.
"Close the door," I ordered, and I watched with satisfaction as he complied without the slightest trace of his usual provocation.
"Did you need me, sir?" he asked softly.
"I just wanted to comment on how well you've been working these days," I said, getting up to walk around my desk. "So obedient. So focused."
I moved closer, invading his personal space. His breathing quickened slightly as I brought my finger to his mask. "But be careful, your mask has slipped." I adjusted it, rubbing it against him discreetly. Alex found the tiles on the floor extremely interesting during that time.
"It's almost like you've found... your place," I continued, enjoying how he shuddered at my touch.
"Yes, sir," he whispered, and his voice had that tremor that told me he was completely under my control.
"Do you like it?" I asked, although I already knew the answer. "Do you like knowing that even when you're here, working, everyone can see how well you behave for me?"
His moan was barely audible, but the way he leaned into my touch was enough of a reply.
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I repeated it the next day. And the next. Every day, a silent and constant reminder of his submission. And every day, Alex appeared more focused, more efficient, more... mine.
"You've been very compliant lately," I commented one night while we were spooning and watching a series.
And there it was - true power isn't in punishments or orders. It's in finding exactly what your submissive needs, even when they don't know it themselves.
Point for the dominant.
Although, knowing Alex, he was probably already planning his counterattack. But for now... for now I enjoy my little victory.
How I met my submissive 12: Breaking Brat
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