Chapter 3: Rising Action
Brittany kept asking me to introduce her to my parents. My mom had always told me that my girlfriend must be smaller than me. She would not approve of my giant tall masculine lover, Brittany.
My mom had always been a traditionalist, and her views on relationships were as old-fashioned as her taste in clothes. She believed that a man should always be the dominant partner in a relationship, the one who wore the pants, so to speak. And while I had always known that I didn't fit that mold, I had never questioned it. Not until I met Brittany.
Brittany was everything my mom wasn't. She was tall, muscular, and confident, with a dominating presence that made me feel small and safe. She was the partner I had always wanted, the one who challenged me and pushed me to be better.
And now, here she was, towering over me, her massive hand holding me in place as she leaned down to whisper in my ear.
"You know, your mom is going to hate me," she said, her voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine.
I let out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, she probably will. But I don't care."
Brittany's eyes narrowed, and she gave me a look that was equal parts amused and annoyed. "You don't, huh? Well, that's good, because I don't give a fuck what your mom thinks. I am a giant dominant woman and you are my sissy bitch boy. Your parents must know that. i CAN'T WAIT TO TOWER OVER THEM
AND SEE THE FEAR IN THEIR EYES." Brittany's voice was like thunder, rumbling through the room and making the windows rattle in their frames. I could see the redness in her eyes, the wild look that told me she was getting off on this. She loved the thought of intimidating my parents, of showing them just how dominant she was.
I swallowed hard, trying to hide my nervousness. I knew my parents wouldn't approve of Brittany, not in the least. But I also knew that there was no way I could deny her this.
Brittany had always insisted on meeting my parents, and I had always found excuses to put it off. But now, seeing the look in her eyes, I knew that I couldn't avoid it any longer.
"Okay," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "We'll go see my parents."
Brittany's eyes narrowed, and she leaned in closer, her breath hot on my face. "You promise?" she growled.
I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. "I promise."
Brittany looked pleased with herself, a smug smile spreading across her face. "Because I've been dying to meet them.
I want them to see what a real man looks like," Brittany said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She released her grip on my face and began to run her fingers through my hair, her massive hand dwarfing my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of her touch, the way her fingers tangled in my hair and sent shivers down my spine.
"And I want them to know who's in charge," she continued, her voice low and menacing.
"I want them to see their little boy dressed up like a slut, begging for his big, strong girlfriend to dominate him."
I shivered at her words, both afraid and aroused. "They're not going to like that, Brittany," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "They're very conservative, very traditional. They're not going to understand our relationship."
Brittany let out a harsh laugh. "Fuck them," she said, her voice like thunder. "They don't have to understand.