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You look down at the sweet thing, on her knees in front of you with your dick in her mouth and you think, "Oh, yes! I own her. She's exactly where I want her." But, really, who's submitting to whom? Because she's thinking much the same thing. She knows she's on display, so she's chosen one of her sexiest outfits. Or maybe she's stripped naked for you. She enhances the visuals further by sitting up to make eye contact and flaunt her breasts. Or, knowing your kinks, she might lean forward to award you a view of her thong, her favorite heels, or the stocking-clad souls of her feet. In this moment, she feels so sexy, beautiful, and feminine. And, of course, she has, well, let's call it "hard" evidence of your desire for her. So she feels in control of your pleasure. With every movement of her mouth, lips and tongue, she dispenses joy. With every application of suction or twitch of her hand, she ratchets up the tension. Until ultimately, she decides, on her terms and in her own time, when to grant you gratification. Your sense of reality explodes. Your perception distorts. You experience the illusion of having somehow "won." You're supremely satisfied. All the while, she reflects on how easy it was and on what you'd be willing to do to experience it all again. As the unmistakable taste of victory fades, she thinks, "Oh, yes! I own him. And he's exactly where I want him."
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