F-M

Author's Note: An unsuspecting technician walks with his eyes wide open into a femdom trap. This story consists of a number of personal experiences as well as fictional events. The engine sound suddenly changed and the plane took a definite nose-down attitude. A ringtone sounded as the ‘fasten seatbelts’ sign was illuminated. Sighing I fastened the strap across my lap. The little plane heaved and shuddered and I looked out of the vibrating window but saw only ink black darkness outside. ...

Author's Note: This is not so much a story as an account of one of my bondage fantasies. The woman smiles to herself as she prepares her female slave for an evening of erotic bondage. She is a dominatrix and uses her slave not only for her personal pleasure but also as an instrument of sexual stimulation when satisfying her clients. She prefers to think of these as her ‘victims’, men who are prepared to reward her for bringing them to orgasm in the most frustrating scenarios she can imagine. ...

She felt it. I felt it. And I knew she felt it. My eyes shot open, greeted by the blackness of the blindfold. “Nooooo! NOOOOO!!! Ihh cahh eee!!!,” I shouted through the ring gag. But there was no denying it. Both my Mistress and I had felt it, plain as day. I thrashed against my bonds keeping me spread-eagle and face up on the bed, but it was too late. She had taken her mouth from off of my balls, my erection quivering in the darkness I could now feel crushing me. ...

The lift came to a halt and its doors slid open. The Executive floor. Nervously he padded down the richly carpeted corridor towards his destination - the only lit doorway, right at its end. The floors other occupants were no doubt already enjoying their Friday evening. But no beer filled pleasures for him, oh no. He knocked on the door marked CEO and received a peremptory “Come in”. The corner office was well appointed but he knew where he should head for, not to either of the plush chairs, or to the small meeting table, but straight in front of the desk. He stood there and waited. She pretended to study the file in front of her, waiting to see if he became impatient and dare to say something. But silence filled the room. A hiss of nylon carried to him as she sat back and crossed her legs. “You know why I’ve called you here Higson?” He went to open his mouth but she carried straight on “Of course you do. Anyone with terrible sales figures like yours would realise why they were here……………………. the question is what are we going to do about it? He swallowed. He knew only too well what was going to happen now. She stood up and came around the desk. “Let’s go into the inner office and discuss your performance further in there”. Crossing the room, she unlocked a panelled door and beaconed him with a finger. “God” he thought, “straight to it then”. ...

Part 1 I had recently updated my Facebook and Twitter profiles since had purchased two new pairs of boots. One pair was knee high and the other pair was thigh high, both pairs had five-inch heels. My new profile pictures were of me wearing my bondage outfit. My bondage outfit consisted of a white spandex unitard, my black leather corset, my black leather opera length gloves, a black leather posture collar, a black leather mask and my new five-inch heel black leather thigh high boots. The white see through fabric of my spandex unitard was unable to hide my erection. I had purchased my unitard one size smaller so that the fabric would be tighter, slightly more see through and revealing. This, coupled with the fact that I had a slightly smaller that average penis, made for a thoroughly humiliating bondage outfit. ...

Mark and Kate had been together for over two year. It was the summer holidays and they were backpacking around Europe by train and ferry. They had worked their way down through France and Italy and were now in Greece, travelling from island to island. On this particular day they had hired bikes and were cycling along a deserted road to a beach at the far end of the island. ...

Part 1 Karin made the short walk from her flat to the train station and waited on the concourse as arranged. 8am was early for her to be up, but this was easy money. As a student she needed all the money she could get and easy money was her favourite kind. She stood at the agreed place, her feet fidgeting in her old tan boots, trying to stay warm. The cold winter air was blowing straight through her well worn blue denim jeans. Her silvery white jacket gave slightly more protection, but she still looked forward to getting back to her small flat to warm up. ...

It was late one Friday night and Brad’s tube train was emptying out as the train crawled closer to the end of the line. It had been a long week and he had worked into the early hours on most days. The two beers he had had after leaving the office had gone to his head and he started to doze. Sitting opposite him, and now the only other person in the carriage, was a blonde woman in her mid-twenties. Brad had discretely glanced at her on several occasions, mainly because she was attractive and was wearing black leather shorts. Not tight, not loose, but perfectly fitting. She also wore a white blouse and a fitted pale blue jacket and had long dark hair which hung down past her shoulders. She had smiled at Brad as she sat down, but even this hasn’t been enough to keep his attention. ...

Author's Note: I wrote this quite some time back. Thought I’d experiment with first person narrative, as well as writing from the Femme Dom’s perspective. Don’t know if it worked, that’s up to the reader. It is late when you arrive at my home. Inviting you in, I notice you staring as I close the door behind you. It is apparent you approve of my choice of garments for this evening. Wearing only a studded black bikini top, matching crotchless panties, stockings with garters and three inch spiked heels, I walk in front of you, beckoning for you to follow. Lost in my beauty, you are speechless as we stop in the living room. I turn and kiss you deeply, my tongue exploring boldly. I stop suddenly and almost playfully push you away slightly. You flush with nervous excitement as I tell you to undress. Your hands begin to tremble, but encouraged by my gentle reassurance, you set about the task of stripping off your clothes. ...

Author's Note: The sequel to Home Furnishings isn’t gelling at all, so I decided to shealve it and give everyone a little short story. Enjoy! Chapter 1 My name is Bob. I moved into the Ten Gables retirement community shortly after my 60th Birthday, and about eighteen months after my wife of thirty-five years passed away. We’d had a good marriage. Our two children were grown and leading their own lives at opposite ends of the country. I spent a few months with my son and his wife in New York after his mother died, and then a few more with my daughter, her husband and my two grandchildren in San Diego. Finally it was time to move on, so I went back home, cleaned out the huge, old house and, since neither of my children were interested in ever moving back to Wichita, put it up for sale. ...