DIR Return Create A Forum - Home
---------------------------------------------------------
Camelot Fantasies
HTML https://castleknights.createaforum.com
---------------------------------------------------------
*****************************************************
DIR Return to: BDSM Fantasy
*****************************************************
#Post#: 53667--------------------------------------------------
Re: FEMDOM Short Stories
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: January 2, 2017, 3:28 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
A date with my goddess - femdom discipline story
"You're late," she said as I got off the elevator into the
apartment. "I expected you over an hour ago...!"
"Well, er, I..."
"Well nothing!" her temper was heating up. "Get your fucking
clothes off and get on your knees!"
I knew better than to question her, so I quickly complied. With
her stern eyes piercing me from across the room, I began to
remove my clothes. As I was doing that, I noticed for the first
time that Goddess Tiffany was looking fierce in tight leather
jeans, her favorite motorcycle boots, the belt I had made for
her a few weeks earlier, a leather vest over bare skin and the
latest addition to her collection - leather lace up gauntlets on
each arm. I guess she noticed me staring at her because she
began to move slowly across the room toward me. I was paralyzed
- like a deer in headlights - right in the middle of taking off
my socks. She came up right next to me, lifted my chin and
stared deeply into my eyes.
SLAP! She really whacked me one across the face.
"What the FUCK are you looking at Slave? I said get your clothes
off now. Keep your underwear on. I can see that I am going to
have to show you the true meaning of following my instructions.
Now, bring me the paddle."
I quickly kicked off my remaining sock and ran downstairs to
fetch the paddle. When I returned, my Goddess made me lie over
the back of the armchair. Of course, I already had a mammoth
erection and a tremendous desire to come - so the pressure of
the back of the chair pushing my cock into my belly was
extremely frustrating. Goddess continued:
"How many strokes would you like Slave?"
"As many as would please you, Goddess."
"What if it would please me to make your wimpy slave ass totally
black and blue?"
"Well..."
CRACK! She brought the paddle down hard on my right cheek. Even
though my underwear was still on, there was still quite a sting.
"You don't seem to understand, Slave" CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
CRACK! "You are MINE. I can do with you what I will - and you
need to accept that - without hesitation and without question.
DO [CRACK!] YOU [CRACK!] UNDERSTAND [CRACK!] ME [CRACK! CRACK!]
?!
My ass was now on fire. I wanted to put my hand back to block
the blows, but I knew that would only result in more severe
punishment.
"YES GODDESS!" I cried out after that last smack.
"Good. Now, I ask you again. What If I really wanted to blister
the hell out of your fucking wimpy assed slave ass?"
"Then you will do so and I will thank you for it, Goddess"
"Much better, " she purred. "Now you will get 10 strokes on each
cheek. You will count each one. If you cry out or miss a count,
I will add 5 more strokes. Are you ready?"
And with that she proceeded to paddle my now red-hot ass. I was
able to hold back my cries, but I did miss several counts. I
ended up with a total of 20 strokes on each cheek. OUCH! I think
Goddess was a little tired after all those swats and she told me
to stay put while she went to the middle of the room to do a few
yoga stretches. I took a few looks at her and noticed that she
has the nipple clips and the penis whip hanging from her belt.
The evening was far from over.
Goddess finished her exercises and walked back over behind me.
She quickly fastened a collar and leash around my neck and
yanked my underwear off. She pulled me onto my knees and led me
to the middle of the room. She ordered me to straighten up but
to stay on my knees with my hands behind my back. My butt was
extremely sore, but that did not stop my massive hard-on. She
began to play with my nipples. I began to moan.
"Oh, my little slave likes to have his nipples played with..."
"Yes Goddess, play with my nipples. Twist them, pinch them..."
She rubbed them gently. She took the smallest part of the very
tip of my right nipple between her fingernails and began to
pinch. I winced in pain and began to wriggle around. She
increased the pressure, and just as I was about to cry out, she
let go.
"I'll deal with your nipples later - and you can be sure it will
be VERY harsh. In the mean time, I will reward you for taking
your beating so well by allowing you to jack off. You will do so
onto my boots, you WILL NOT come before I give you permission
to, and after you come you will like up every last drop of your
semen. Is that clear?"
It was. Goddess made me stroke myself for about 15 minutes.
Every time she sensed I was close to coming, she reminded me
that I was not to come yet but would not allow me to slow my
strokes. She told me that if I came without her permission that
she would tie me down and whip me so hard that I would not be
able to sit for a week. She even lifted her boot and prodded my
cock a few times just to bring me closer to the edge. Finally
she took mercy on me and let me come. I exploded onto her black
boots. Before I could catch my breath, she pulled down on my
leash and pressed my face into her boots. I licked up every
drop, as usual.
I was still down on the floor licking up my cum when she ordered
me to lie on my back. She undid her pants and, without pulling
them down, put her hand inside and began to stroke herself. I
was just lying there on the floor, looking up at my Goddess as
she gave herself pleasure. WOW! After about 5 minutes, she
removed her glistening fingers from her crotch and wiped them
all over my nose and mouth, making sure I sucked all her juices
off her fingers. She put her boot on my chest.
"Do you want to eat me Slave? Do you want to put your tongue
deep in my pussy? Would you like that?"
"Yes, Goddess, I want to give you pleasure..."
"We'll see about that. What would you do for the pleasure..."
"Anything you ask, Goddess"
At this point, she got a very devious look in her eyes. She
ordered me to my feet and led me to the part of the room under
the beams where we have some discreet hooks in the ceiling. She
shackled my wrists together and hooked them to the chain from
the ceiling so that I was standing on my tip-toes. She attached
a spreader bar to my ankles. I was basically spread eagle
standing up! She told me she was tired of my constant hard on,
so she attached a penis sheath very tightly around my cock and
balls. She stood back to admire her handy work. I guess all was
not exactly right, because she left the room for a few minutes
and returned with a parachute. She quickly attached it to my
balls and added some weights. I moaned and winced and began to
thrash around, which was a mistake because the motion on the
weights really increased the discomfort on my balls.
"Comfy?" She mocked. "I'll be back in a minute"
As she was leaving the room she pulled the nipple clamps from
her belt and attached a cruel one to each nipple. She tugged on
the chain which made me moan and thrash.
"You are such a baby about your nipples! Here, maybe this will
help you build up tolerance" And she attached a weight to the
middle of the chain and let it drop. The sensation in my nipples
was unspeakable. I was gasping and shaking. Now if I moved it
would hurt my balls and my nipples. I just sort of hung there,
full of intense sensation, and moaned. Before the left the room
for good, she told me to shut the fuck up and quit whining -
pulled down her leather pants, took off her panties, and shoved
them in my mouth.
It seemed like an eternity before she came back. I was actually
tripping out when I felt the first stroke of her
cat-o-nine-tails on my thighs. It really took me by surprise. It
also made me move, thus reminding me of the pain in my balls and
nipples. She proceeded to mark me with her cat - not saying a
word - but looking me in the eyes as if to say "you are all
mine". She put the whip down. She walked over and grabbed my
sheathed penis and began to rub the exposed head - lubricating
it with the pre-come that had oozed out over the last 30
minutes. The rubbing felt so good and I began to moan thru her
panties. She began to rub and run her fingers over my entire
body - freshly sensitive from the whip.
She picked up the chain of the nipple clips. Standing about 18
inches from my body, she began to pull the chain so my nipples
were stretched straight out. She kept pulling. The pain was
intense. She pulled harder - and I knew then that she meant to
pull them off like that. She pulled harder and they began to
slip. Finally, with a snap, the right clip flew off. I SCREAMED.
She yanked the left on off and I screamed again. She came up and
rubbed my nipples. If my cock was not wrapped in leather, I
would have come right then!
I must have been crying, because I could feel tears on my face.
Keeping her silence, she removed the parachute but left the
penis sheath on. She took me down from the hooks and laid me on
the floor - once again tying me spread eagle. She stood between
my legs and began to disrobe - starting with her vest. I can not
tell you how beautiful it was to look up and see her, topless in
her leather jeans and boots. My entire body was on fire and my
cock was still wrapped in leather.
All I wanted to do was fuck her. She took off her boots and then
her jeans. Her panties were still in my mouth. Standing naked
above me, she began to finger herself again. She was really wet
and she made many a pause to wipe her fingers on my lips and
nose. She removed her panties from my mouth, and, facing my
feet, she squatted over my face - her pussy just inches from my
lips. She began to rub the head of my cock again while I
pondered her vagina. She finally lowered herself enough for me
to lick her - and lick her I did. I was in heaven.
She grabbed both of my nipples and began to twist and pinch the
tender flesh. I licked faster - concentrating on her clit. She
was moaning and twisting her hips around. Goddess removed my
cock sheath and my penis immediately sprang to life. She got up
from my mouth (but kept a firm hold on my nipples) and began to
rub herself up and down on my cock. I was moaning. She was
moaning. She began to fuck me, putting her weight forward while
pushing her crotch back to get maximum stimulation. She paced
herself, alternating between my mouth and cock for a long time.
Finally, she impaled herself on my rock hard dick for the last
time, clamped her legs to my middle and screamed as wave after
wave of orgasm flooded her over and over again. She was
screaming (as usual) and riding me like there was no tomorrow.
About halfway through her climax, I too began to come - my low
screams mingling with hers in the room. She collapsed on top of
me in a pool of sweat, sex, saliva and semen.
#Post#: 53685--------------------------------------------------
Re: FEMDOM Short Stories
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: January 2, 2017, 7:41 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Friday Femdom Fiction: Meeting Her Slave
She hit the cafe a full half hour early, despite walking from
two bus stops away in heels after she’d gotten distracted and
over shot where she was supposed to get off. She realized, as
she slipped inside and scanned the room, that she was giddy.
Among the patrons: some students with a pile of notes on their
table, and older man with a book and a young woman pecking
something out on a white macbook, nobody met the description she
expected or matched the picture she looked at on her phone.
[I want to be your slave. Oh, I know, I want to get to know
better your first, and obviously that’s a big thing to ask of
you, but, I wanted to make my intentions clear. And, if you’re
not interested I respect that.
I just haven’t met someone quiet like you before. You’re clever,
and funny and mean.]
He was smiling, the picture, a kind of goofy, self conscious
grin, but a real smile that half closed his almond eyes. His
black hair stood up a little stiffly- he’d taken the photo this
morning and was holding a sign with a picture of a hand drawn
penguin on it and one word: “SOON”
She knew he worked somewhere near by, admitted it when she
picked the venue. The cafe was nice enough, nothing particularly
She ordered a mint tea, trying to pick were to sit. Near the
window? She suppressed the urge to bounce on the spot like an
impatient child. The cafe chairs were dark varnished and vinyl
seats- choosing one so her back was to the wall, she self
consciously fiddled with her skirt hem and the clip of her
garter on her stocking through her fabric. Was it dishonest to
dress this way? It turned her on to know under her dark blue
cotton summer dress, everything was soft lace and secret
elastic. She told herself the extra confidence couldn’t hurt.
It had happened in a whirlwind month. An offhand positive remark
on his part, a polite thank you, a conversation that had spun
from teasing into cybersex. They’d crawled off the fetish
website, where their pictures were both anonymous headless
torsos, his bare with nipples like brown thumb prints, hers
corseted in severe black silk, and onto instant messaging, where
suddenly seeing a cartoon penguin avatar with a green circle
next to it made her heart skip a beat.
If he was truthful, on her online orders, he’d come three times
that month, once of his own volition after their first session-
her pushing as far as she could as a ‘wicked priestess’, him the
explorer who’d stumbled into her secret temple.
*i feel the hard stone slab beneath my back, wonder how many men
have perished, tied to the altar this way. i pull hard against
the roeps*
(ropes)
*The Priestess holds the dagger high for another moment, teasing
your with your helplessness before she brings it down to strink,
but stops short of your heart. Instead the razor sharp obsedian
point is moved to hook under your collar and slit you shirt
open, then moving lower to slash away at your clothes until you
are completely naked.* “The Goddess Demands a Different Kind of
Sacrifice.”
(arrrgh!, strike, obsidian)
She never worried before that much about her typos. And yet for
all her fretting she was not found wanting. She had been the one
to shyly ask him if he wanted to take this offline. And his
enthusiastic affirmation at once tied her stomach into knots and
made her skip about her apartment like a maniac, singing and
drumming on the counter tops until her normally tolerant
roommate was rolling her eyes.
Now her phone bleeped with a friendly alert. She thumbed the
picture away, checked the text- her roommate and say call: [Any
sign of lover boy?]
[Too early!!!!! :P] She thumbed back.
Her tea was too hot to drink and taking forever to steep. She
tried to distract herself in a book. Every five minutes she
checked her phone. A message
[on my way! might by a minute or two late] It was still five
minutes early. She took a nervous sip of her tea. Every time
someone came through the door she would perk up and then feel a
little stab of disappointment when it wasn’t him.
Oh. There he was. Her tongue took that moment to faint in her
mouth as he stepped through the door.
He was wearing a loose green polo and slacks, office clothes, as
she’d been told to expect. A cross body strap from his bag put a
diagonal bisection against his torso. There was a small stuffed
penguin under his arm.
She giggled, remembering a webcam session that had started
erotic, and then by afterglow had taken a turn for the adorable.
“Is that from your bed?”
He lit up with a wide smile when he saw her.
“Mr. Pepperton wouldn’t let me leave him behind this morning.”
She found her words. All the sensible thoughts she’d had about
sitting down and talking practical things went out the window
when she spoke in the *voice*.
“Well then, let’s take a look at you.” She let her head roam
from his cowlick to the laced brown leather shoes on his feet.
He’d stopped abruptly, with a tension that showed even his
breath had slowwed. She could tell he was nervous, guessed what
he was thinking. “Oh, no, we’re in public. I wouldn’t.”
“Sorry… ”
“Go get yourself something.” She pointed at the counter.
“Okay. Would you like…”
“N-Yes. Another mint tea.” She slid her mug forward. Yes, yes
this was going to work very well.
~~~
This is what it looks like in real life, folks. Giddy, silly and
happy- and more than a little be awkward
#Post#: 53686--------------------------------------------------
Re: FEMDOM Short Stories
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: January 2, 2017, 7:43 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Friday Femdom Fiction: She Ties Him Up And Uses His Cock
The rope threads in and out, criss-crossed clean cotton
clothesline, harnessing him in cruciform against the headboard.
She’s biting her lip in concentration, pulling him a little bit
back and forth as the cord laces him into increasing immobility.
This doesn’t stop her from admiring the lanky lines of his arms
and the way she can see the muscles of his wide shoulders move
under his skin as he flexes. His struggles become more serious
the more he’s restrained.
He’s naked and his cock is half filled by her wriggling against
him and the promise of what’s about to happen. She’s still in
pyjama pants, but her breasts are uncovered, blush pink nipples
pointed, softness of her chest brushing as she leans in.
“There now!” She takes a step back and considers her handiwork,
and he responds by giving one hard wrench, a lurch forward that
confirms he’s stuck. The whole binding his held by a simple knot
in the centre of his chest, slightly to the left. “Now I get to
play.”
Her fingers are, at first, just light brushed and then the rake
of her nails on his skin, her hand capturing his chin to force
him to take a kiss. “Mine.”
She takes her right hand between his legs, nudging them apart
with a hip check so he’s completely exposed to her. She starts
her grip at the base of his cock, pulling him erect, alternating
fingers curling tight and sliding, find the sensitive spot at
the head of his cock until she’s drawn him fully upright
His eyes become wide and seeking, his mouth softened. She
continues with brisk strokes, base t just below the head, now
grabbing his neck. He freezes and she makes him meet her gaze,
holding the moment until at last she see the flinch of
submission is making him pull away.
For that she redoubles the tugging, bends and slides the head of
his cock into her mouth. Her tongue curls, teasing hand holding
it firmly on target as her lips make a wet seal. She likes the
warmth and the texture in her mouth, and the imperceptible
taste, something of him she cannot fully articulate when she
tries to concentrate on it.
He’s getting desperate now, all slick with her saliva and her
body squirms, hips shifting in a rocking motion. She brings him
almost to the edge and breaks off the stimulation, letting him
feel the frustration even as she aggressively kicks her way out
of her pants. He should know what’ll happen next when he sees
the dark of her cunt. She strokes two fingers between the livid
curl of her inner labia, sliding the moisture from the whorl of
her vagina to the projecting pout of her clit in its hood.
Opening herself with those two fingers, she caps his cock and
then pushes, her hand resting on his shoulder now.
He has his legs together obediently, and she’s straddling his
lap with him engulfed all pleasant and pinned by the rings of
muscle in her cunt, but he warns her, as she begins to lift
herself up and down, that he doesn’t know how much endurance he
has.
She laughs and promises him, whispered in his ear – “No love,
you’ll come when I want you to.”
#Post#: 53687--------------------------------------------------
Re: FEMDOM Short Stories
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: January 2, 2017, 7:44 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Friday Femdom Fiction: A Bitch at the Beach
Burned. She made an uncomfortable mewling noise, looking at her
body in the large hotel bathroom mirror. Everywhere was covered
in sore streaky red. Her breasts were still their proper
alabaster and rose color, as was her buttocks, but her shoulders
were sun seared, ugly pink, as were patches on her torso and
legs. She looked, in her judgement, like she was having some
sort of allergic reaction. And she knew what would come next,
peeling, then tan marks, light brown on milk white.
The door rattled and swung open, and she poked her head out,
still patting her singed flesh with a cool, damp wash cloth.
“Okay baby, the concierge found a pharmacy that’s open at this
hour…” He clutched a plastic sack, crinkled up in his hand. He,
of course was perfectly unblemished. She’d taken extra special
scare to slather him with sun screen, after all. “I’m really,
really sorry. I got aloe and…”
“Kneel down, right now.”
“…Mistress?” He said from somewhere on the floor. His voice was
tiny. He hadn’t stopped looking penitent, since they first
discovered the start of her burn and she identified the culprit.
“I’m too angry to punish you right now. Not only is this really
sore, how is it going to look at the party this weekend?”
“I don’t know, Mistress…”
“Of all the lazy, inconsiderate things. You had the privilege of
touching me and rubbing my skin and…” She took a deep breath.
“Nope, too pissed and stingy to talk about this still. No
Mistress for you tonight, just hurt-y fiancee. Get the aloe and
more ice from the hall, and tomorrow I’ll decide what I’m going
to do.”
He made a little whimper. He always liked it better when she
punished him than when she was actually upset.
The next morning, as soon as store opened, he was back at the
pharmacy. His collar was around his neck, both reassuring that
Mistress was okay, but that punishment was now imminent. He
scampered first to the seasonal section and picked up a few
things: a floppy cheap wide brimmed hat, a can of sunscreen with
a high SPF sunscreen, then to the stationary aisle. Scissors,
glue, tape, then rushed back to the hotel.
Arts and crafts followed, her carefully trimming, snipping,
sticking and then spraying, before the pair took breakfast
smoothies at the hotel pool. Other holiday makers noticed, on
the little strip of luxurious beach, a couple, laid out with a
deck chair and umbrella. The woman wore a loose caftan and
stayed mainly in the shade, her eyes masked by dark glasses, but
her mouth in a small but content smile, while the man rushed
about, doting, rubbing her feet, bringing her drinks and
sometimes just kneeling nearby her legs, looking up at her
adoringly. From time to time she would beckon him over and
whisper something into his ear, then he would lay out in the
sunniest part of the beach, tanning.
That night, the hotel noted they used a lot of ice, but if the
other guests heard muffled whimpers, grown ups having romantic
fun was a matter of normal. It wasn’t until the small, private
party that weekend, at their friend’s ocean side condo, that the
other guests saw the full effect of her punishment.
WORTHLESS SLUT, emblazoned in white on his back, standing
against in stark relief against a caramel tan. On his front,
FUCK BITCH 4 MISS.
If the Mistress didn’t pick her usual revealing party attire, no
comment was made by the other guests, but her naked fiance was
used well, and photographed at every angle. Quite a few people
went home with happy vacation souvenirs.
#Post#: 53688--------------------------------------------------
Re: FEMDOM Short Stories
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: January 2, 2017, 7:45 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Friday Femdom Fiction: Pleasing Her Cunt
Her cunt was a pink slash in a tuft of soft brown. He’d watched
as she’d revealed it, first lifting her skirt to reveal mesh
panties and rubbing herself through the fabric, then hooking her
fingers to pull the black knit to the side, revealing swollen
lips, plump and petaled. Her fingers made an inverted V,
spreading them.
“You want it, don’t you?”
Before this, she’d made him strip stark naked and sit on the
couch, hands submissively placed on his lap with his palms up.
It had been a full week since he’d come, but every evening she’d
made sure to tease him until he thought he would crack. Every
day, grinding, rubbing and edging without release. Even as she’d
first ordered him into the collar for tonight’s game of pleasure
he knew he was getting erect.
“Yes.” He didn’t deny his desire.
He’d never made her come. She’d come with him, of course,
frigging her clit with rapid finger strokes while he petted and
stroked her breasts and belly and neck, or plunged his cock into
her. But he always knew that it was something she decided, and a
journey she made for herself. “I’m not going to make it hard for
you, i’ll let you know when you’re doing it right, but whether
or not you please me is entirely up to you.”
“That’s a lot of pressure.” He swallowed.
“Oh, I’m not going to punish you if you can’t. Just the only way
you get to come is when I make you , and the only way I’m going
to to it is if you make me come first.”
“But…”
“I’m denying myself too, you know. I find you most attractive
when you’re desperate and submissive, but I’m helping and
leaving myself unsatisfied until you figure it out.” Her skirt
was down now, her hands on her hips in a command pose.
“Could… could you come here, Ma’am?”
“Why?”
“I want to give you pleasure.”
“Think you’re up to it?”
He ran his hand under her skirt, up the creamy expanse where her
stocking ended, starting above the slight dip in the softness of
her thigh and stopping where the hem of her panties began. He
saw the effect in a widening smile and the way she twisted
towards him. “Yeah.”
“Brat.”
“Yes Ma’am” He took her hips with both hands, steering her
gently so she knew he wanted her to sit on the couch. “Please
Ma’am, let me please your cunt.”
Gathering her skirt up around her waist, he used the pads of her
his fingers to press, feeling the raspy texture of the nylon
weave, the heat and the way the cotton gusset was becoming
saturated with moisture. Her breathing told him he’d found his
mark.
He read her enjoyment in the way her pose shifted, spine
developing an definite curve, hip sitting to get just the spot
she wanted rubbed in reach. Presently, as her deeper breathing
included muffled utterances, he stooped and eased her panties
down to her knees and off onto the floor, bringing his face in
so close that he could smell the musk of femaleness, and kiss
and nibble.
She didn’t like the tickle of a tongue, and he knew directly
touching her clit, no matter how obvious the location, was more
likely to induce her to give him an involuntary kick in the
head. Instead he nibbled and nipped and nuzzled until her thighs
locked together, trapping his head.
“Ma’am!” He pulled back with some difficulty, taking it as a
blatant command for more. With the pads of his fingers, he
stroked along the slick furrow, that marked the separation of
her labia until his digits were wet with her.
One finger inside, was not enough, neither was two. With three,
he was impressed how hard she wanted him to fuck her. He’d
worried about hurting her, but this was what his Ma’am ordered,
greedy, engulfing, making him put the strength of his arm into
it.
“More, pet! More!”
He realized that he would probably tire before she did. Her cunt
was tight like a sucking mouth, and her body making involuntary
convulsions. He guessed, took a risk to please her, and took his
free hand from where he was using it to brace himself and
brought it to her cunt as well.
Left handed, he feared for his clumsiness, but she was merciful
and placed it just so, so it moved the hood that covered the
hard knot of her clitoris without scraping the pearl-pink flesh.
Her breath came in three ragged, deep inhalations, and then she
swore, marking the point of no return.
Her cunt and its satisfaction was his main point of focus, but
from between her legs he could see that her head was thrown
back, her mouth in a circle. She tended to hold her breath when
she came, grabbing onto the tension to extend it as long as
possible.
“Yes! Okay, stop… you can stop pet…” Her hands now prised him
from her cunt and brought him to her, flushed face smiling.
“You’ve earned your release.”
“Ma’am?”
“Yes pet?”
“Can I have another reward?”
“What, pet?”
“Can I pleasure your cunt again, instead?”
#Post#: 53689--------------------------------------------------
Re: FEMDOM Short Stories
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: January 2, 2017, 7:46 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Friday Femdom Fiction: She Tells Him The Terms of Surrender
You want to belong to me, don’t you?
You want that sensation of connectedness- you know I’m lovely,
beautiful- I light up the room when I enter it. You’ve seen me
naked, moon pale, lips and cunt slashes of petal pink. You’ve
seen me in tight black, perched atop spike heels, wide hips
swaying.
You’ve seen me look over my shoulder at you, belly down on the
bed, your borrowed t-shirt not quite reaching to the full swell
of my ass, draping loose around my little body. You’ve touched
me. Tasted me, been inside me. Nobody knows my body better than
you now, other than me.
Now you get to see me come through the door every day, get to
press your face into my lap whenever you need a pick me up with
my warmth and female scent. You’re hooked.
But you know you could never, never own me. You’re afraid of
that, afraid of watching my perfect ass for the last time as I
leave for work. Afraid of how I make you feel, all weak inside,
because you crave me in a way that borders on a real addiction.
We both know if you wanted you could wall yourself up. Go all
tough guy and cold, cut of your nose and spite your face and
walk away yourself. But you don’t want to. You want to make me
stay. I make you force yourself to tell me all your dirty little
secrets and tender places.
You want to wake up to feeling my hand on your cock, to fall
asleep next to my warm body wriggling in under your arm, the
little yelp and pout as you tweak one erect nipple though my
tank top. You want to feel my tongue on your balls, lips around,
nibbling, nuzzling.
You want to feel my hand on your throat, the cuffs on your
wrists, spreading out splayed on the bed. You want to feel my
cunt eat every inch of you as I straddle your lap. You want me
to force you to meet my eyes, even as you try to look away.
It’s something I know you crave. You want to be vulnerable to
me, kneel for me, take pain for me. You know nobody else is
capriciously loving and cruel, can make you hurt with a smile
and then kiss you like she means it.
We’ve been playing these little games for a long time, haven’t
we? Every time the stakes get a little higher. Remember the
first game I made you play where you traded one hard spank to
get to kiss my breasts?
Or remember the day I told you I loved you? You were sitting
tender for a week, but you got lured in when I told you I had a
secret and then you just had to beg to know.
But this game is bigger than that, and it’s got a forfeit. What
are you going to give to have me for keeps?
You know the answer- there’s a price to pay for your pleasure.
You have to submit to me. Completely.
#Post#: 53690--------------------------------------------------
Re: FEMDOM Short Stories
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: January 2, 2017, 7:47 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
A Girl And Her Tease
The dress cinched in as he drew the zipper up. It made almost a
purr. She smiled at the mirror, and at the reflection of him,
behind her. She was done up to the nines, face painted ivory,
lips shiny, eyes dark. Her hair was swept up into an artful
disarray. If she was stocking foot, her heels were simply
waiting for her to step into them at the door. Underneath, he’d
watched her layer, delicate, slippery soft nylon stockings,
clipped garters, panties and a bra that hoisted her breasts up
in a way that made one think of cupping hands.
“Very nice, Miss Bunny.”
“You know, just teasing’s no fun any more.” She smirked. Her
sensed she was in one of her mood, where there was a hard edge
to her desire. “I mean I dress up every time I go out.”
“Miss Bunny?”
“It’s not that I don’t like catch you staring. I mean, god, I
stare at me sometimes, I’m that nice to look at. I like seeing
the way you tent in your pants. And I like giving them a reason
to drool.” She just about strutted, preening a bit.
“Maybe, just maybe, tonight, I’m going to fuck someone. Maybe
when Rory gives me a drive home we’ll take a detour. Maybe Jay
and I will duck out early. Maybe Natasha and I will stop
flirting and I’ll get to have a taste. Maybe her boyfriend will
do more than watch.”
He smiled, “Why not all at once, Miss Bunny?”
“Hmm, you’d like thinking about that, wouldn’t you, you naughty
little bitch? Thinking about my face buried in Natasha’s cunt,
finding out if the alphabet trick really works while her
boyfriend fills my cunt? I bet she’d squeal really nicely with a
few bites on the inside of those soft thighs. Do you think Troy
would like it if after, she rode his cock while I let him have a
turn eating me out?”
“Miss Bunny!” He was squirming on the spot now.
“Or maybe I’ll see how many boys would like to cum on my tits.
Get them all in a nice circle so I can jerk and suck how I see
fit and they are all begging for me to focus on them. Can you
imagine that? One in each hand, squeezing, while another slides
down my throat and I can feel more rubbing and pressing up
against my face and hear them begging.”
He couldn’t help it, his hand began stroking himself through his
pants.
“Hey!” She grabbed his hand up and smacked him on the knuckles.
“Just for that you’re not going to get to come until I get
back.”
“Miss Bunny! Please! I won’t get any work done!”
“Well, you need to control yourself better. Make sure to edge
yourself at least once an hour.”
“How long are you going to be gone, Miss Bunny?” These events
were usually only four or five hours.
“It depends on if I get lucky now, doesn’t it?” She winked.
“Maybe I’ll have to organize myself my own little after party
and you won’t see me until tomorrow.”
#Post#: 53691--------------------------------------------------
Re: FEMDOM Short Stories
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: January 2, 2017, 7:48 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
You Can’t Get What You Want
Nature made her curvy and gave her the will to make men weak. In
a kinder world, she would have been as yielding and plaint as
the supple softness of her body. Instead, she’s learned that she
loved the way it let her lead and torment. She fed off them,
desired their desire, often more than she wanted sex.
Sex, after all, was a messy process, occasionally rewarding, but
her body demanded being handled just the right way and so few
met her standards that she had gotten used to failures. It was,
in her private mental estimation, easier to make them suffer for
her and take that as a more nourishing food for her libido.
Tonight, she was on a date. He was sweet, and funny, but tonight
she felt like seeing him beg and saying no.
The dress she wore wrapped around her, skimming but never
squeezing, tailored in imitation of the contrasts of her body.
The walked together, arm in arm, him supporting so that the
spikes of her heels wouldn’t trip her on the cobbles, feigned
fragile need for him, like a lure. From time to time she’d brush
up against him, sharing her warmth.
He wanted her, but they had done little more than kiss, and once
his hand had crept over the top of her ass, enjoying the way
that the taper of her waist made it a natural gesture, but he
didn’t dare push further.
Instinctively, he seemed to know she dropped boys who were
pushy: “Please, I’m going to fuck you!” They would threaten, and
then she, seeing the game was too much for them would gently
ghost away. She considered herself kind, and would tell them
forthright, “I like to tease.”
She liked him, in her way, liked the line of his shoulders and
the masculinity of his walk. He was the right mix of hesitancy
and desire and desire for her, at least to be one of her
victims. He’d earned that right when he had, one night three
weeks ago, edged up against her at the party.
So she started her campaign to destroy him with little touches,
not enough to seem anything other than innocently interested. In
her opinion, men didn’t get touched enough, and it was another
weakness. Pet them, massage them and they folded.
He took her home, dutifully, up to the walkway before her
apartment building. They kissed, and she gave a playful laugh.
Her mouth strayed from his, to his chin, then his ear, tongue
tip testing when she saw him tense.
Those curves shifted as she squirmed her body, rubbing against
him. It turned her on and made her wet to see the change in his
breathing as her hip found his crotch, bumping gently. A few
wriggles and she noticed she was making him properly hard.
The yellow glow of the light beside the door gave everything a
warmth. His grip on her got tighter, and she made a slight move
to pull away, only to turn so her back was to him but he was
still holding her. She arched her spine, and made a small noise
of contentment as she began to grind against him.
The same trick of nature that made her soft of body and hard to
please had also made her sensitive. She was teasing herself as
much as she teased him, feeling herself get more and more into
the connection they were building together. It was just a simple
thing, rocking, right-left, the writhing coming from a pivot at
her waist and a flex of her slightly bent legs. She gave another
deep sigh, focused on him and how he was starting ot have
trouble staying upright.
Then, as she expected he broke first. “Please… please can I come
upstairs?”
“No.” She smiled and kissed him one last time, pulling away,
fingers brushing him over the front of his pants. “I’m sure you
will be thinking about me later.”
#Post#: 53692--------------------------------------------------
Re: FEMDOM Short Stories
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: January 2, 2017, 7:50 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Sweat & Service
She took the stairs slowly, feeling the burn in her thighs and
up into her hips. Her chest felt the press of the sprints she’d
just completed, and shook her head, letting her loose, long hair
sway, trying to cool herself, holding the elastic she’d pulled
from her sleep and sweat tangled hair and the coiled up cord of
her headphones.
First the front steps, up a story, the door, with it’s glass
panels, and the inside steps, all the way up again, to the inner
door. She was tired.
He was waiting there, at the top of the steps, his legs folded
under him in a prayer pose, head bowwed and palms flat on the
floor, long arms a little forward, as if in supplication.
The slight askewness in the way he was kneeling that said he had
heard her coming at the first rattle of the door and got into
position. She guessed rushing from the bedroom, or maybe he’d
lumbered from his bed as far as the kitchen.
“Mistress!”
She smiled, stopped and rested her hand on the wall, plucking
her phone from the taut pocket made by the tight grip of her
sports bra and dropping it, keys, cord and elastic onto the hall
stand.
His fingers went for the laces of her shoes, sensible trainers
with white, honeycomb mesh and big white soft plastic, like
rubber and panels of bright colours in purple and neon and
reflective grey. She always put a double knot in the bow and
laced her feet in tight, like it was a corset.
He kissed her then, on the crossed lace strip of her right
instep, peeling her shoes off to reveal the padded grey ankle
socks she was wearing underneath. Her feet were damp, clean
sweat, fresh, and she smiled as he hooked a finger into the band
of her socks and peeled them off, feeling him lifter her foot to
kiss at her soles and then her calf and thigh.
He tasted salt, tongue darting our, delicately, seeking up the
creamy inside of her leg until her hand pushed him away. “Fetch
me a glass of water. No ice”
When he got up, she followed him into the kitchen, where he took
a glass from the shelf and ran the tap for a moment to be sure
the temperature was cool. She finished it in big gulps, plunking
the spent vessel on the counter and lazily making her order an
announcement- “Undress me.”
He knelt again, to pull down her brief shorts, black knit,
drawstring drawn all ruffled to sit on her narrow waist but
stretch fabric filled by the swell of her wide hips. She
stretched, pointing her toes as she stepped free of the
discarded garment, and he saw the jut of her hip bones beneath
the thin fabric of her cotton panties, and the dark shadow of
her groin.
He kissed and licked her pale belly, tongue making a trace to
her rib flare, where his lips nipped at the bone, before moving
behind her. The sports bra was a tight stretch of black elastic,
pressing her small breasts, tight as he pulled it up, and she
indulgently let her arms move up, making it easy. He got a rich
waft of her smell from her smell, intoxicating, pheromone laden.
“Touch me.”
She didn’t need to explain what she meant, caressing her body,
around to cup her bared breasts, kissing the back of her neck,
and reaching around, palm sliding down her stomach and finger
finding the furred fold of her labia, playing, getting a wriggle
and then a pleased noise. Her hand crept behind her, making
explorations of her own. “Serve me.’
His mouth traced from neck to shoulder, even as his fingers
returned to her back, finding all the placed he knew she liked
to feel him press, then cleaving to her sinking lower, back down
to kneeling as he nuzzled the fullness of her ass. Hand and
mouth, and then she let a giggle escape as his impish nature
tempted him too much to nip at one perfect rounded cheek.
“Bad boy, serve your Mistress and go set up a shower.”
*****************************************************
Page 2 of 2
DIR Previous Page