Gorean Master Finds His True Place At The Feet Of A Femdom Mistress

As a Gorean Master, I always considered myself a “real man,” so to speak. I believed that men were inherently stronger, more intelligent, and more fit to lead than women. This belief naturally spilled over into my sex life, and I became a dominant who owned slaves. (Yes, multiple slaves.) The farther I went into the Master/slave dynamic, the more I became obsessed with it.

In my quest for more knowledge about the lifestyle I’d chosen to lead, I ran across the Gor books. I won’t elaborate too much on what they’re about, but I’ll give you some background. Basically, Gor is a fictional planet, much like Earth before the Industrial Revolution. There, women are subjugated to men. All women are at the mercy of the men on Gor. Some of the women are owned slaves and others are so-called “Free Women,” but, ultimately, it’s the men who call the shots on this planet.

Of course, I had to go online to research these books some more, and that was where I discovered that there’s a whole alternative lifestyle that’s based on these books. I quickly took up the mantle and became a “Gorean Master” myself. I owned slaves and even invented the name “House of Lord Green Dragon” to refer to myself and my harem.

Meeting A Mistress Changed Everything for this Gorean Master

Little did I know that everything was about to change.

I’d met Femdom Mistresses before at play parties when I was still in the BDSM lifestyle. To me, none of them seemed “real.” They appeared to be fetish models who were there to cater to the whims of submissive males, and perhaps most of them were. But, then, one day, I met my American Mistress, Mistress Melinda.

Mistress Melinda was nothing like any of the “Femdoms” I’d met at the play parties. She didn’t dress in fetish wear. She certainly didn’t cater to other people’s whims and desires. She simply exuded dominance and made people want to follow her, just by virtue of being there. The woman had (and still has) charisma.

She was nothing but polite to me. She did not try to dominate me the way the other “Mistresses” I’d met did. She simply didn’t feel like she had anything to prove to anyone. She was who she was, and that was it.

I Couldn’t Get This Femdom Out Of My Mind

I thought about her for weeks after we met. I found myself growing increasingly dissatisfied with my harem of slaves. They seemed weak to me, unlike the strong Mistress Melinda.

I’d met Mistress Melinda through mutual acquaintances, so it wasn’t hard to run into her again. The next time I saw her, I asked if we could speak privately. She agreed, and, in the darkness of our friend’s patio, I confessed to her that despite my previous self-identification as a Gorean Master, I still wanted to submit to her. I thought she’d be surprised by my declaration, as the mere thought of a man submitting to a woman is laughable to a Gorean Master. She wasn’t.

She told me that if I was serious, I should let my slaves go, as it wasn’t fair to them. I also had to cast off my life as a Gorean. She told me that if I did these things, she would agree to meet me at my house in one week. I eagerly agreed and let my slaves go that very night when I returned home.

True to her word, Mistress Melinda showed up at my door a week later. I dropped to my knees and began to worship her feet and shoes the instant the front door closed behind her. She was not impressed and told me to stand up and never to presume to do anything like that again without her instructions.

I tried to apologize, but she dragged me over to the couch, pulled me across her lap, and gave me a punishment spanking for daring to be so forward.

A more undignified position for a “Gorean Master” couldn’t be imagined, but I renounced that life the second I felt her first blow to my ass. This was where I needed to be. I needed to be dominated and humiliated. I needed a Female-led relationship.

Mistress Melinda must have thought so, too, because this Gorean Masater became her collared submissive that very night, and I have been hers ever since.