A Femdom Love Story: From Facesitting to Forever

A few years ago, I was on FetLife, looking for events to attend with a friend. I had recently lost a submissive and was searching for something—anything—to do.

I wasn’t part of the group hosting the class, but I had always been interested. Curious.

Maybe even a little reckless. I wasn’t prepared for what was about to happen.

The invite said to bring a partner or a pillow, and since I was single, I grabbed the first pillow I saw at Target, threw on a pair of cut-off shorts, and called it a day. No makeup, no special outfit. I wasn’t planning on sitting on anyone’s face—I was still getting over my last submissive. Maybe I’ll tell you about that another time. But that night? I wasn’t in the mood to entertain anyone new.

When we arrived, I saw a few familiar faces but not many. A handful of single people sat off to the side, and my friend and I joined the main circle with our pillows, ready to listen and follow along.

Then, the leader of the group asked for volunteers. There were plenty of submissives but not many Doms.

And for some reason, I raised my hand.

Maybe it was the post-breakup “fuck it” mindset. Maybe it was pure impulse. Whatever the reason, I went with it.

I ended up paired with a quiet boy—one I hadn’t even noticed until that moment. The first thing I did notice? How incredibly nervous he was.

But the way he carried it was beautiful. He wasn’t stiff or abrasive—just excited. But calm. Steady. A kind of happy nervousness that was… soothing. And honestly? It was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen.

I don’t think that poor boy was ready for me.

He seemed eager, sure, but I hadn’t paid much attention to the part where this was supposed to be a choreographed instructional. When the music started, I tried to follow along, but my body—and my ADHD—had other plans.

The boy beneath me made me feel so comfortable, so calm, that I lost myself completely. I wasn’t thinking. I was just feeling.

Before I knew it, he was swallowed beneath a mass of wiggling ass.

I didn’t even realize what was happening until I saw his arms go up—hesitating—before quickly dropping back down. My eyes were closed, hips moving, body swaying, lost in the rhythm.

In my head, I was just enjoying the song. Just feeling good. Just feeling… right.

I didn’t care that we had an audience.

I didn’t even realize they were there.

Later, my boy told me he had to think about baseball—because he hates it, it’s boring, and it was the only way he held on. I couldn’t stop laughing when he admitted that.

When I finally opened my eyes, the entire class was staring at me.

And that’s when I remembered—oh. Right. I was on top of a submissive stranger. In a pair of Victoria’s Secret cut-off shorts. No panties. In front of a crowd.

For a long second, the room was silent.

Then, someone broke the tension by dubbing me Car Wash Ass.

The name stuck. To my surprise, it became a badge of honor. Some of the people from that class even showed up at our collaring ceremony later that year.

I could tell you about the rest of the class, but honestly? That would take an entirely separate post.

This morning—two years after that night—I woke my boy up by gently saying his name and letting him know he’d overslept.

He rubbed his eyes, crawled out of his sleeping bag (he likes to be wrapped up when it’s cold), kissed me good morning, and we went about our morning rituals.

I love every moment with him. Even the hard parts.

Ever since that first night—ever since I quite literally swallowed him whole—we’ve been connected in a way I never expected. A way I’ll never feel again.

He’s taught me so much about being a Domme. About the responsibility of it. What’s required.

I thought I knew it all before I met him. I thought I had everything figured out.

Because keeping control was how I protected myself from the world.

But he took my hand—gently—and reminded me that not everything is scary. That not everyone is out to hurt me.

He even nursed me back to health after I wrecked my knee.

A pic from our collaring ceremony

I never knew people could be that soft. That gentle.

And he makes me want to be even softer.

Well… at least with him.

I’m really glad I went to that class.

I’m really glad I left the house that day.

I had sworn off partners for a while, but that night reminded me how much happier I am when I’m truly connected to a submissive.

What started as a spur-of-the-moment decision ended up changing my life in ways I still don’t fully understand. But I’m so, so grateful for it.

If I’ve learned anything, it’s this—embrace the unexpected.

Even if it’s scary.

Even if it makes your insides turn inside out.

Even if you’re disassociating a little but doing it anyway.

Because you never know what’s around the corner.

Or whose face you might end up sitting on.

Or who might end up sitting on yours.