Warning: Creating default object from empty value in /home/fmdmftsh/public_html/wp-includes/functions.php on line 292
Femdom Fetish Blog - female domination and male submissive discussion
Home

October 17, 2009

My Pleasure/Pain

SHE wraps the cling film around my body starting from the shoulders, leaving space for my nipples and then continuing down to my belly, encasing my arms in a silken cocoon. i am trapped, willingly.

SHE places clover clamps on my nipples and tugs on them briefly to ensure that they are firmly fixed. SHE pulls my foreskin outwards, stretching it out so that SHE can place a clothes peg on it, affectively trapping my penis and ensuring that any sign of an erection will be rewarded with pain.

But, at that point in time my pleasure/pain switch is still set to pleasure.

My legs are slapped apart and my testicles bound tightly with twine to which a weight is attached. Still there is no pain yet but a slight ache, a sign of things to come.

Then SHE orders me to kneel and lean over a low coffee table so that my unprotected anus is slightly raised. The clover clamps on my nipples press against the table, increasing the pain. But the pleasure/pain switch is still set to pleasure.

SHE stands in front of me so that i can see her pulling on a thick rubber glove over HER right hand. Once in place she pours a liberal amount of lubricant over it, massaging between the fingers and back of the hand. Then SHE comes to kneel down behind me. SHE stokes my anal opening with one well lubricated finger and the pleasure in intense. Slowly, she inserts a finger, i don’t know which one, into my anus and the bliss that hits my brain is amazing. SHE moves it in and out, massaging my sphincter; I am in heaven. SHE continues like this for a few minutes, reaching in to massage my prostrate and my penis responds accordingly. As it grows larger so does the pinch of the peg gripping my foreskin. But the pleasure/pain switch is still set to pleasure.

Then SHE slowly inserts another finger into me. i feel the stretch of the anal opening but it is still bliss. SHE pumps the fingers in and out of me more vigorously and i moan with pleasure. SHE runs the fingernails of HER free hand up and down the length of my penis, digging them into my balls. i want to tell HER how much i love HER, but have been instructed to remain silent. The pleasure/pain switch moves slightly towards pain. Then I feel HER inserting a third finger. I feel the stretch now and the switch moves ever closer to pain. But then i feel her inserting more lubricant over the fingers and into my body and I know that SHE loves me; worthless as I am.

I can barely feel HER inserting the fourth finger. SHE pauses, and uses more lubricant. Then slowly but steadily SHE pushes HER hand into my anus; stretching, stretching but not tearing, until HER hand is in all the way up to the last knuckles of HER hand. There is very little pleasure now as she stretches my anal opening. SHE pumps HER hand in and out with increasing speed and it is all i can do not to cry out.

Then, blissfully, SHE extracts HER hand slowly, leaving my tortured anus to slowly close up. There is no pleasure, the pain of the clamps and the pegs, but that is bearable. I close my eyes and rest my forehead against the table, only to feel something pushed against my mouth. It is my LADY’S riding crop. SHE has presents it to my mouth so that I might kiss it and I do so, readily, knowing full well what is to come.

SHE moves back behind me and positions HERSELF. I barely hear the swish as the crop descends on my buttocks. Again and again, five, seven, ten, eleven, fifteen, eighteen and then finally, gratefully, the twentieth time. Then it is over.

Now I am weeping openly with the pain. SHE presents the warm crop to my mouth for another kiss of gratitude. Then SHE helps to sit upright and shuffle backwards so that SHE can position HERSELF in front of me. There is HER beautiful cunt before my face, and I do not need to be told what to do……….

Submitted by: Stewart

Home

September 27, 2009

Cucking my boyfriend

I am kinky-there is no doubt about that. I was raped at age 13 and I know that has almost everything to do with why I am the way I am. To tell you the truth, Im not exactly upset about it either. My boyfriend is great! He is understanding and funny. I love every aspect of our relationship except his penis. He has to work very very hard to get me even close to orgasm. Thats why I love cucking him. I love the feeling of someone else inside me as he watches and squirms in his seat. Its one of the most satisfying feelings. And the best part-he loves to eat cum!

Submitted by: Mandy

Home

July 30, 2009

Humiliation For Bob

I am 22 and recently introduced to Fem Dom by my boyfriend Bob. I love it! I never realised how Dom I am nor how important FD is to people generally. In my view FD in a relationship should be 24/7 and it’s not so much a game as a Statement. I am interested in putting Bob into some sort of chastity device. What is best for long term use? I imagine it does have some dangers - good! What are they?

Bob loves FD and he adores me. He gets very excited by our talk but gets scared when I really give it to him hard. I imagine most guys are like that? A lockable penis cage would make it easier for me to take control of him but what other ways do people suggest? I’m keen to show him up for what he is in public, not on the High Street but to friends and things. I soon discovered that he doesn’t enjoy that one little bit - so that’s interesting.

We went to a party last weekend and I wore a pretty revealing latex type outfit and he went in a sort of loincloth. He literally begged me not to make him go and I got really angry. Of course in the end he came; it was either that or “goodbye, its been fun knowing you”! It was a party where people did dress up but not quite like us and everybody saw it as “S&M”. The girl who was giving the party gave me her riding crop to complete my “look” and late on in the garage I used it on Bob in front of two of my friends and one of their boyfriends. The next day everybody knew about it because I had apparently done it “really really hard”. And I had. Bob was wincing as he got texts from his mates making jokes about it. Because he didn’t want to do it I found I got very wet and excited and ended up having sex with a guy I’d never met while Bob had to wait downstairs in his loin cloth and slashed arse until I was ready. That story is doing the rounds of my friends and it wont be long before his know. What they don’t know but maybe I’ll tell them, that I put a knot in the condom off the guy after he’d cum and back at my place I told Bob to swallow the contents. He seemed to find that! easier than being publicly exposed as a submissive which is very interesting. I’m already thinking of other ways to expose him. Anybody with any bright ideas?

Love Linda

Home

July 7, 2009

Mistress Karin’s new slave

Here’s some new images of Mistress Karin von Kroft training a new slave in the art of worship.

Mistress Karin

Mistress Karin

Mistress Karin

Mistress Karin

Mistress Karin

Mistress Karin

Read her exclusive interview here

Visit Mistress Karin von Kroft Here

Home

April 12, 2009

Queen Malaika

Serving Queen Malaika is an honour she has bestowed upon this slave, kneeling at her heavenly feet is without doubt something I find most fulfilling and it gives me a sense of purpose. The mighty Queen is a sight to behold, a single look can render breathless and enslave any man who is fortunate enough to worship at her feet. I have the eviable privilege of being Queen Malaika’s personal slave.. Oh how many men would die for such an honour. When serving her I’m in ecstasy, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for my mistress, I am entirely her property, her plaything, her servant… her slave.

I awake every morning in eager anticipation of what my mistress has in store for me. I bathe, put on my slave uniform (a loin cloth and a slave collar with a leash) and prepare my mistress’s breakfast. At 8 am I present myself at the door of my mistress’s room and knock. Upon gaining permission to enter I place the breakfast tray on the bedside table, the tray also contains a freshly picked out flower in a vase to signify my undying devotion to my Queen.

I then kneel at my mistress’s feet in silence awaiting my mistress’s permission to speak. According to Queen Malaika, a slave should remain silent until given permission to speak, failure to obey her commands result in a severe punishment, whipping,caning or an extremely exhausting chore. My Queen fixes me with a look that sends pleasurable shivers down my body “You may speak slave” she says “Good morning my Queen, I hope you had a good night’s sleep?” I reply, “I did, though the same can’t be said for you slave I’m sure, when was the last time I let you loose?” I gaze into the eyes of my mistress, my frustration building, the knowledge that my long imprisonment is a source of entertainment to my Queen only heightens my excitement and pleadingly ask “May I please be granted a release my Queen.It’s been so long since the last time”. The Queen responds with a stinging slap, grasping my hair, she pulls my head back and responds “That is entirely my decision slave, it’s not your place to tell me how long its been”. “I’m.. I’m sorry my Queen,I….. I didn’t m..mean” I stammer. “Silence!” she cuts across my apology “You will be whipped for this later” I shiver with partial fear and also a sense of anticipation at the thought of my Queen standing over me wielding a whip. “Worship my feet slave” my mistress commands, I hasten to obey and set my tongue to work licking My Queen’s gorgeous feet with a passion while she enjoys her breakfast. My Queen throws scraps of food periodically for me, reminding me while I eat them that I’m nothing more than a dog at his mistress feet. After breakfast my mistress dismisses me with the command to wait for her to summon me. I bow low and leave with the breakfast tray.

At 9.30 am I hear the tinkle of the slave bell, I once again present my self at my mistress’s feet while she sets me a list of chores to perform, these chores mainly involve shopping, cooking, cleaning, chauffeuring around my Queen etc. Sometimes Queen Malaika is in the mood for some fun she sets me chores like scrubbing the floors with a toothbrush, failure to perform the task up to her satisfaction of course results in punishment.

Sometime Queen Malaika summons me while I’m performing some task and slaps me without reason, she then asks me the reason as to why she slapped me, and when I do she reminds me that I’m her slave, her property, she can do as she pleases with me and needs no reason to punish me. I of course love the power she exerts over me. At around 11 am Queen Malaika gets ready to step out of the house telling me I can rest when I finish my chores until she returns. I finish cooking and cleaning and I return to my slave quarters (the smallest room in the house) awaiting My Queen.

At 1.30 pm my mistress returns with a couple of friends and I’m instantly summoned. To most of my mistress’s acquaintances I’m the manservant, only a select few of my mistress’s closest friends know of my enslavement. The two lady friends of my mistress fully aware of enslavement show no sign of surprise on seeing me wearing only a loin cloth and a collar. Once again I kneel at my mistress feet awaiting her orders. My Queen informs my that her friends will be staying for supper and I am to wait on them until they finish. They take their place while I serve supper and I then take my usual place at my mistress feet. Once they have finished with supper Queen Malaika dismisses me and I’m allowed to have my meal.

At 3 pm I’m again summoned by my mistress, I am ordered to prepare and serve coffee to her and her guest which I do and kneel at my mistress feet in silence while she’s engaged in a conversation with her friends.

At 5.30 pm,the guests leave and my mistress orders me to draw her a bath. Once the bathtub is ready for my mistress she orders me to help her undress, as I do so my excitement knows no bounds and I’m lost in the wonderment at the sight of her majestic body, my Queen senses this and delivers another powerful slap “Stop drooling slave, maybe a few more weeks of being denied would do you good?” I tremble at her words knowing fully well that she means every word. Once undressed Queen Malaika then leads me by my slave leash to the bathtub and steps into it ordering me to bathe her beautiful body. As I lather the back of my Queen with soap I am transported into the realms of pure joy, Queen Malaika fully aware of how much I love bathing her and smiles a knowing smile. Once the bath is done I help my Queen to towel off. She then leads me once again by my slave leash and orders me to massage her body. This is something every slave lives for, I fetch the massage lotions and get to work starting from the mistress’s legs ,working my way upwards to her back, the mistress moans softly and says “You deserve a reward slave, maybe later………”

At exactly 9 pm I serve dinner and again wait on my mistress at her feet, my dinner consists of scraps from her table which she throws for me again reminding me of my dog like situation.

At 10 pm once I’ve done the dishes Queen Malaika summons me to her bedroom. “Its time for your punishment slave” I stiffen at her words “for your insolence this morning you shall receive 25 lashes of the whip” I resign my self to my punishment in silence, Queen Malaika handcuffs me to the side of her bed and cracks the whip, the sound heightening my fear as I lay kneeling on the floor helpless. The first lash lands on my bare back sending a painful stinging sensation, I let out a low cry which only serves to excite my mistress even more,she delivers a severe whipping as I I am overcome with both pain and pleasure. Once the whipping stops, Queen Malaika grasps my hair again pulling it upwards and whispers “Your punishment is by no means done slave,for your shameful drooling while I undressed you deserve 15 strokes from the cane. “At her words I cannot control myself I try begging “Please mistress”, she lands a stroke on my back in response “shut up slave, did I grant you permission to speak?” I fall silent immediately “perhaps 5 strokes extra will help you follow my orders more efficiently”. There is nothing I can do, I helplessly offer my buttocks for caning. The first stroke sends a painful burning sensation up my ass, as the second stroke lands I can’t control my tears and they stream down my face. My Queen is highly aroused by my tears and intensifies my punishment till the last stroke.

Uncuffing me she sits on the bed and lifts my face towards her with her foot.”Did that hurt slave?” she asks “It did my Queen, but if it makes me a better servant to you I’d gladly accept many such punishments” I reply. She smiles at my reply and says “Your night hasn’t ended yet, for the wonderful massage you can lick my ass for 3 minutes” I am overjoyed at her words can barely express my gratitude in words, I manage to stumble out some words of thanks as she lays on her bed lika a true Queen. “Well get to work slave” she says and I press my quivering lips to her heavenly ass. As I lick Queen Malaika’s ass the pain from my punishment seems to evaporate and I’m lost as worship my Queen’s wonderful behind.

“That’s enough slave” her words bring me back to reality and I get back on my knees on the floor. “You may go now slave, make sure you don’t delay with my breakfast tomorrow” She offers me her foot to kiss, which I do submissively, I then bow low and leave the room. As I retire to my room, the aches from the whipping and the stings from the caning return as I reflect on the day that went by. I am extremely proud of being Queen Malaika’s slave, servant and worshipper and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Submitted by: Slave Jack

Home

October 20, 2008

Fight The Kinky Porn Ban

For the first time in the western world, when extreme image clauses come into effect in January 2009 it will be illegal for anyone in England and Wales to POSSESS such an image. The central issue here is not whether violent and abusive behaviour is defensible. It is not, as everyone agrees. Rather, the issue is whether this proposal will criminalise non-abusive activities engaged in by consenting adults. It seems crazy that we live in a world where Hollywood produce movies of murder, rape and serial killers, our news programs show daily images of war, people being blown up, shot, killed and abused. But no, the attack by the powers that be is as it always is - against porn - movies and images of consenting adults indulged in fetish activities.

The question that immediately follows is this: if the activities or material in question are not abusive, should they be outlawed because some (even most) people find them distasteful? It is worth remembering that a majority once took that view on homosexuality.

The Consenting Adult Action Network - CAAN - are organising an action day against the upcoming law. As a British citizen with a keen interest in cuckoldry, fetish and femdom erotica I am very concerned about the Government making criminals out of people LOOKING at kinky porn with CONSENTING ADULTS. It’s just one step away from thought crime. Very, very scary. Please help spread the word and show your support by fighting this ban on our freedom.

London - 21st October 2008 - 12:00

St. Stevens Tavern, Bridge Street, London SW1A 2JR - then after to The Houses of Parliament

CAAN are back in London again on 21st October for another awareness raising action against the kinky porn ban and for the freedom of consenting adults to express their sexualities.

We’ve tried being reasonable and now it’s time to be a little bit more interesting..

If you can attend the action to leaflet and so on, or are able to assist with things behind the scenes like transporting equipment, people, or donating resources during the time surrounding the action, please get in touch with us ASAP at info@caan.org.uk or via the web-form.

If anyone feels generous cash wise and is able to donate towards either materials for the action or getting people there who would come if they could afford it, please contact us at the address above.

“We believe in the right of consenting adults to make their own sexual choices, in respect of what they do, see and enjoy alone or with other consenting adults, unhindered and unfettered by government."

"We believe that it is not the business of government to intrude into the sex lives of consenting adults.”

If you’d like to support this simple notion, please Sign Up

CAAN

Visit The Consenting Adult Action Network CAAN Here

Home

October 2, 2008

An Old Flame

First a confession. I’m a married man who fell in love with another women. It’s an old story, I know. It started out as fun - for both of us. But then it got serious. I was madly in love with her and she with me. In the end, I couldn’t do what I promised. I couldn’t leave my wife. My lover cut it off abruptly and finally.

That’s why I was surprised when three years later she emailed me. Her life had changed and she wanted me one more time. I was thrilled. I told her I would meet her anywhere under any circumstances she wanted.

Then I got a call at work. “Yesterday”, she said, “I sent you a package overnight. You might want to get it before your wife does”. And then she hung up. I know what time the mail arrives. She called at 2:00. I told my boss, I suddenly felt sick. That wasn’t much of a stretch. I got home before my wife and intercepted the package.

It contained a pair of hot pink panties and a set of instructions. Tomorrow night I was to wear the panties under a tee-shirt and a pair of shorts and stand outside a bar in a nearby town. She made it clear that this was my one chance to be with her and if I blew it, I’d never hear from her again.

We had a pretty kinky sex life, so I wasn’t entirely shocked. It sounded like just the right mixture of danger and anticipation. I willingly complied.

I waited outside the bar for 20 minutes when she finally arrived. She looked gorgeous. She pulled up in front of me and told me to get in. She looked at me up and down. Frankly I was a little surprised at her stare. It was bold and all business. “Get in” was all she said. I did. “Did you follow my instructions?”

“Yes, of course”, I said, trying to sound casual.

“Show me.”. I unsnapped my shorts to show the lacy panties she had picked out for me.

“Give me the shorts..” It was about 7:00pm and not quite dark. It was a little risky but I was anxious to show that I would meet her on her terms. I took them off and handed them to her. She took them, got out of the car and put them in the trunk.

When she got back in the car, she was much friendlier. She hugged me and said she missed me so much. With one hand rubbing my crotch she spoke softly in my ear. “This is going to be fun, I can’t wait to fuck you.”

I was hooked at that point. As she drove away, she told me that we could be a regular thing again. I just had to let her do it her way. My feelings just rushed over me. I do really love her. I would do anything to have her back in my life.

She drove to a 7-11 and parked far from the door. “Wait here, I need a few things.”

Like I was going anywhere. She took the keys. People walked by. I pulled my shirt down, so I don’t think they could see anything. But I swear people were looking at me as they waked by..

It seemed like an eternity but she came back. She got in the car and gave me another up and down look. “You OK?”

“I’m fine”, I lied. She laughed. “With your shirt pulled down I can’t see those cute panties I bought for you”. She reached over and tied a knot in the front of my tee-shirt the way girls do to show over their flat stomachs.

“God. I can’t wait to fuck you.” Again she caressed me. I was hard and ready. It must of looked ridiculous to see my pink panties and huge erection pushing out.

She drove to a somewhat infamous motel and parked at the far end of the lot. It was poorly lit, so I was a grateful.

“I’ll get us a room.” She came back. It seemed like forever. She came to my side of the car and opened the door. She could tell from my look that this was farther than I wanted to go. She just laughed. “Come on sweetie, it’ll be fun”.

Reluctantly, I got out of the car. Nobody was in the parking lot, but it was a long way. I couldn’t slip down in the seat, or hide from peoples stares. Finally I decided that I’d go. Even if someone saw me, in this part of town they wouldn’t recognize me. She held my arm and we walked to the room.

People did walk by. I was humiliated and bright red. I kept my eyes down and kept walking. She looked at each of them with a knowing smile. It said, “Yes I’m a hooker, but he’s really the weird one”. She walked to the motel room door and fumbled with the key. She dropped it. I’m sure it was on purpose but she looked at me with that smile that said, “Yes, I am enjoying this”. Finally she opened the door.

Inside she gave me a full body hug. That kind of hug that made me forget everything else. I wanted her.

- To Be Continued…

Submitted by: Mike

Home

September 15, 2008

My Cucked Hubby

My name’s Dawn and I’m married to a guy called Sean. About a year ago he confessed to me that he’d always had fantasies of becoming a cuckold. I didn’t know what one was at first. Sean showed me some websites and videos he had of wives basically screwing around and treating their husband like shit. I thought he was mad and told him so. I was a bit upset really and felt a bit awkward around him after that.

Three months passed and we didn’t speak about it again until one night when I was out at a friends dinner party. The were about 30 or so people there and Sean was working late at the office and couldn’t come. There was this one guy who throughout the evening had been looking at across the room at me a lot. He was very good looking and it was my usual reaction to seem disinterested when a guy notices me as I am a married woman. But suddenly a memory popped into my head, I thought about Sean and how he really wanted me to get together with other guys. I laughed to myself and still found it hard to conceive, but instead of ignoring the guy, I exchanged glances and smiles with him. The night went on and eventually he approached me, I decided I would play a little game to see how far I would take it. We chatted, mostly small-talk and the drink flowed. He was called Daniel. He eventually asked me if I’d like to take a walk around the gardens. I accepted and we chatted some more taking in the cool night air. We stopped near a bench at the foot of the house grounds where it was very dark and sat down. It was then he leant over me and kissed me. I was feeling very brave from my alcohol consumption and a little turned-on by now. I returned his kiss with vigour. We sat snogging like teenagers, exploring each others mouths and entwining our tongues. This was very nice I thought, I hadn’t been kissed like that in a long time. His hands were all over me, reaching up my top and across my bra. I was literally tingling with delight.

I suddenly felt him stiffen and stop while holding my hand. He looked down and felt my third finger “Are you married?” he said. I didn’t know what to say and felt very embarrassed. “Yes” I replied but followed up quickly with a “But my husband is fine with all this!” He looked at me like I’d just asked him if I could shave his hair off and immediately withdrew. “I’m sorry, but this is not right.” he said. He got up and went back to the house. I was left feeling very stupid and I suddenly worried that he might go tell my friends. I gave it 5 minutes and went back to the party. I saw the host Karen and her husband. She seemed fine with me and even asked if I saw when Daniel went. I told her we were chatting but I didn’t know where he was now. I didn’t see him again that evening and left feeling a bit sick and nervous.

Over the next few weeks I thought long and hard about what had happened and began to feel fine about it, even glad that I did it. Me and Sean had another cuckold conversation, this time I was more responsive to what he was saying and I think he was shocked I was listening and taking it all in. He told me of a friend he once knew at college. He once went round to this friend’s parents house and was introduced to his Mum, his Dad and ‘Johnny’. Thinking Johnny was a family friend he thought nothing more of it. One night he stayed over at his friends house and noticed Johnny was there and as he understood was also staying the night. His Mum, Dad and Johnny had headed upstairs to bed about an hour before Sean and his friend decided to call it a night. Sean went upstairs and went into one of the guest bedrooms he thought he was staying in and was a little surprised to find his friends’ Dad asleep alone in the bed. Sean now thought he was going to have to have to sleep on the floor or couch or something as Johnny must have the other guest room. Sean was a little annoyed, he went to his friend’s room to ask what the hell was going on with the sleeping arrangements. He friend looked awkward and said “No it’s fine Sean, the other guest room is free…. Johnny’s in with Mum.” Well needless to say Sean spent the nearly the whole night grilling his friend about his parent’s ’situation’. His friend told him basically his Dad loved his Mum and wanted her to be happy more than anything in the world and part of that happiness meant being intimate with ‘other men’ rather than his Father.

After that night he found he was fascinated with the idea and made excuses to go round as often as possible. He became good friends with the parents and Johnny and loved the idea of their lifestyle. There were sometimes other men round and sometimes his friend’s Mum would go out without her husband and usually be picked up in a car outside by a stranger. Sometimes Sean would stay over and in the morning over breakfast, she would come in from a night out. I think they were glad Sean approved and wasn’t judgmental of their lifestyle.

He was very upset a couple of years later when they moved out of state and found he was often left thinking about them and having fantasies of his own based around their situation.

I listened to Sean intensely and found I was very feeling very worked up and flushed at this story myself. I chose not to tell him about the party and Daniel and we really left the conversation positively.

Over the next few months the thoughts were swimming around my head, I found I was masturbating more when Sean was at work. Feeling more sexy in general, thinking about men finding me attractive. I brought myself a few toys of the Internet and every so often I’d look at a cuckold forum, website or Yahoo group on the subject. There were wives posting messages to meet other guys. Sometimes there were husbands posting messages to ask men to come and have sex with their wives. I couldn’t believe how much of this was actually going on. I was starting to get into it and thinking about it more and more.

One night over dinner with Sean I brought the subject up. “So, this cuckold thing Sean? You’d be happy if I became more dominant in our relationship?” he looked at me with excitable eyes and nodded. “And you’d be happy for me to have sex with whoever I like?” again he nodded “You’d also be happy if I deprived you of sex in favor of other men?” He didn’t answer this time but had stopped eating and was looking at me intensely. I was starting to enjoy the conversation “What about if I made you do things? What if I humiliated you in front of other guys?” He got up “Oh Dawn, you’re making me so hot!” he went to kiss me, I immediately pushed him away. “No, no, no! you’re not allowed to touch me without permission.” I teased and walked away leaving him all hot and bothered.

The next few weeks were filled with similar games. I wouldn’t let him touch me sexually. I forbid him from masturbating as well. I stopped making his meals. I made him sleep in the spare room. I started giving him things to do, like domestic chores, cleaning the house and doing my ironing. He was loving the new game and so was I.

It wasn’t too long before he confessed that he was desperate to cum. He hadn’t had sex with me for a month and was fit to burst. He said he was walking around every day with a permanent stiffy. I had an idea, I got him to fix us both a salad one lunchtime. When he’d prepared it, I made him watch while I ate mine first. When I finished I asked him if he still felt sexually frustrated, he said he was finding it very hard. “So what if I give you a little hand relief before your lunch?” He immediately looked keen. I stood him up, told him to close his eyes and undid his trousers and slowly started to rub his cock. He was moaning his thanks to me. I told him to let me know when he was about to cum. He didn’t take long, about 2 minutes later he gasped he was cumming, I immediately placed his plate of salad under his jerking cock. He tensed and released stream after stream of a months worth of saved up cum across his lunch. The lettuce and egg salad got the most of it, there was a hell of a lot of it. I placed the plate back down and pulled a napkin from the table. I asked him to open his eyes while I made out I was cleaning his cum off my hands. He thanked me again and said he felt so relieved after that. I then told him to sit down and eat his lunch. I sat opposite and watched him. He certainly didn’t notice by the look of it as he already had a lot of salad dressing on it. I put my fingers in my panties as I watched him eat. It was so hot to see him eat his own cum. He did look a bit funny as he was chewing, like there was a strange taste but said nothing. When he was half done I just said “Are you enjoying that?” he nodded with his mouth full. “Do you enjoy eating your own cum?” he stopped dead and looked at me. “I thought you’d like a little extra dressing on it. Now eat up like a good boy. You’re going to have to get used to that taste. Every time you feel like relieving yourself it must be in my supervision and only onto the food you eat.” He gasped “Wow Dawn, this is fucking great. I’m loving the new you!”. I looked at him bored “Well I don’t care either way, in fact I’m really enjoying this new role too, having less to do and getting you to do these things. I’m going to enjoy myself and it’s for me and if you get off on it fine.” Sean looked confused like he didn’t know if I was role-playing or what, he looked nervous as well, like he’d brought out the devil in me. I think he had.

It took me four weeks to find another man to fuck. A couple of weeks before I placed an ad on one of the Yahoo groups I frequented. I put a body shot picture up and got over 100 responses. One of the replies was from a black guy who happened to live in a neighbouring town. After emails flying back and forth (he called himself Big Mac - ;) ), explaining my situation. I agreed to meet him for a coffee, first on neutral ground and when I was sure he was ok and the man for me I asked him to call round for me the following evening when Sean would be home.

The night came and I felt sick with excitement. I’d got Sean to make me a lovely meal and buy some special champagne which I explained was for later. He looked excited. Then the door bell went. He looked at me, like he was thinking who the hell was that. He went to answer and I heard Mac’s voice saying he was invited, I called into the hallway “Oh let him in Sean, he’s a good friend.” Sean came back into the room with Mac looking very confused. I looked at him and said “This is Mac, he’ll be fucking me tonight Sean, now go and open that champagne for us will you.” I could see an instant erection in Sean’s trousers, he looked like he was completely knocked for six. He just went straight out and poured us some champagne. I told him to sit on the other side of the room while I sat on the sofa with Mac, who was completely relaxed and acted like this was a regular thing for him. I got cosy with Mac and we drunk our champagne and chatted generally. I kept glancing over at Sean and he was visibly sweating. “Hey, darling” I said “Don’t worry, this is what you always wanted isn’t it?” He nodded, not that convincingly. I met his eyes “Well as I said before that doesn’t matter to me now, this is what I want!” and with that I put my champagne glass down and leaned forward and kissed Mac. He responded fast and pushed me back kissing me hard and feeling my legs and breasts. He then paused and pulled my t-shirt over my head, I reached round and unclasped my bra. My breasts fell onto him and felt amazing naked against that mans foreign dark skin. I pushed him back, undid his belt, unzipped his fly and pulled out a monster cock. It was doubled over in his trousers but free from restraint it was massive. I got to work with my tongue and mouth and it grew even further. I glanced at Sean and he was rubbing himself through his trousers. I stopped and immediately told him that he was going to get a major punishment for that. He stopped and looked even more uncomfortable. I got back to sucking Mac, he looked over at Sean and said “You like seeing your wife sucking on some black cock yeah?” Sean didn’t respond. “Well you know what I’m gonna do now? huh? I’m going to take that white pussy and make it mine.” and with that pushed me to the floor and flipped me over onto my knees, roughly pulled my panties down and slid his cock into my cunt. I was in heaven, I’d never known it so deep. Every stroke was sending the most amazing tingling feelings from my pussy to my head. I was cumming big style. A few minutes later in a state of delirium I was aware of Mac grunting “There you go baby, have some of that. Hey fellow, I’m filling your wife right up. Every time you taste her pussy for the next month, you’re gonna taste my cock.” and with one final gasp he fell back on the sofa.

I was still shiivering with desire, coated in sweat and looked over at Sean, he looked like he’d died and gone to heaven, looking on and seeing his wife having just been fucked good and proper by a black man, the ultimate cuckold fantasy. Well I hadn’t finished with his fantasy come true just yet. I saw one of the champagne glasses just beside my knee. I picked it up and placed it under my pussy. I pushed with my muscles and managed to squeeze out three massive globules of cum. The cum dripped down the side of the glass and came to rest of the top of the alcohol. I gave it a little shake and it frothed up. I got up and gave it to Sean. “Here you go, let’s toast your new cuckold status.” I watched as he drunk it all down “Now Sean I want you to go upstairs to my bedroom and lay out your Armani suit on my bed. Then you can get to bed yourself in the spare room. Me and Mac are going to be having some fun tonight. I want you to wear that suit for work tomorrow. I’ll make sure you’ll get to see lots of messy evidence on it throughout the day tomorrow. Let’s hope no one notices.” I kissed him on the cheek and felt fantastic. What a great new life this was going to be, what fun I was going to have and how lucky I was to have Sean as a husband who would be behind me (well underneath me) all the way.

Author - Trash

Home

August 9, 2008

My Punishment

Cindy and I have been in this relationship for almost 5 years. From day one, it was a one sided relationship. One sided meant that only one person made the rules, and the other (namely me) followed them. Cindy has a way about her, one that makes men fall to her feet and worship her. Her dominance over men was always evident to me, even before she decided to train me in her ways. Cindy is beautiful and has the shape that makes her so seductive that men have no chance to resist her, and there is no way that they (including me) can stand any chance, once she decides their fate. The one thing about Cindy that makes her so deadly, is that when she becomes angry, she does what she does to men even better, and without consideration as to what those men have to do for her.

She is a master at discipline and uses bondage, pain and humiliation as her tools. She has trained me to know that it is my destiny to be her submissive, and a love affair has been based on these principals. I now know that my place is on my knees in front of her, and that there is literally nothing I won’t do for her. This is the story of one such event that actually happened just a few months ago.

Cindy and I had a pretty big knock down, drag out fight, over something quite small. I don’t even remember what it was. The paybacks that she brought down on me, I will never forget as long as I live. We had made up in the usual way, with me on my knees in front of her on my couch. We then proceeded with a session in the bedroom, that involved four neck ties, a blindfold, a leather belt, and a fairly short lesson that involved total submission and admissions of wrong doing, and my having to tell her that I was wrong, and that she is always right, over and over again. Phew, I was glad that was over. But was it? I thought it was, and that all was fine, and that I was forgiven. Not.

Later in that week, I think it was a Tuesday, she called me at work to say that she was going to get a motel room down the hill, and that she had a special surprise for me, a fantasy that was going to come true, and she told she would call me after work and tell me where to go. I was excited with anticipation all day, cause when Cindy was doing something special, it was always very, very special.

When I got to the motel room she was dressed in a leather thong and strap lingerie thing. The thong part came off a waist strap and went down her back, between her cheeks and back up the front to the waist strap again. Her large firm breasts were encircled with more straps leaving the breast fully exposed. Her pubic area was completely shaved and smooth looking. She looked like a Goddess. She had me shower and asked if I had thought much about my fantasy to have two women dominate me, she said that a fantasy was going to come true tonight. Then she had me lay on the bed where she tied me spread eagle, mostly on one side of the bed, the side closest to the wall. She pretty much ignored me after that except for an occasional smile. She had a way with that smile, the kind that let you know she was up to something.

After a short while, there was a knock at the door, and she hurried off out of sight to where the bathroom and the door was. She came back in just a couple of minutes, and I asked her if there was someone here, and she said, “No, it was just someone going down the hall”. And then there was that smile again. She then disappeared again to where the bathroom and the door was, and when she came back into the room she was pulling a man with her, a large man whom I recognized as her last boyfriend. He was fully clothed and she pulled him over to the open room side of the bed where she sat on the edge of the bed, with him standing in front of her. Her shoulders and head were in the way, but I could see that she was undoing his jeans. I turned my head the other way, and I heard her snap at me, “Turn your head this way, you are going to watch this.”

As she was pulling his jeans down to the floor, she told him to take off his shirt, and in no more than 30 seconds he was naked in front of her. She looked back at me one more time and her head moved forward towards his body, and I knew she was going down on him. I watched his hands rest on his hips and his head fell back as he let out a small grunt, and I watched as her head moved around.

After a few minutes, she pushed back on the bed with her head resting on my stomach. He went to his knees, leaning over the bed between her legs. He pulled the thong out of the way and starting eating her pussy. I watched as her head pressed back against my stomach and her neck arched upwards, with the veins in the side of her neck starting to bulge. She was really enjoying it. Every time I looked away, the ordered me to watch, and I did.

Next she put him on his knees with his head against the side of the bed and started whipping him on the back. I could tell he was enjoying it. After all, she held the same control over him that she held over me. She reached under his side and grabbed his dick and said to him, “Your cock is really big”, and she looked at me and grinned when she said, “It’s twice as big as yours”.

She then laid back on the bed with her head by my feet and said to him, “Now fuck me”, and then grinned at me like an excited child going into a candy store. This was the first time I could actually see his cock, and she was right, it was big. It was thick like Cindy’s wrist, and probably about 8 inches long. She raised her legs like a ‘V’ pointing at the ceiling and he pushed it inside of her. Again her head pushed back and her neck arched up, and I could tell it was all she could do to take it all. He fucked her for about ten minutes before she pushed him over and on to his back. She kneeled in front of him and took his cock in her fist, and as she started to go down on him, she maintained eye contact with me. Again I looked away, and she lifted her mouth off his cock only long enough to yell at me, “TURN YOUR HEAD AND WATCH”.

After a couple of minutes, she pulled herself forward and rubbed the tip of his cock against her left nipple. I could see the pre-cum glistening on her breast. As she stood up she looked at me smiling and walked around my side of the bed. As she leaned over, moving her breast towards my face, I knew what was next. She didn’t have to say “Stick out your tongue”, but she did. I sucked on her nipple and I could taste the pre-cum like I have tasted my own so many times before when she puts it on her nipple.

She went back around the bed and climbed on to it on her knees so that he could fuck her from behind. He stood behind her and grabbed her by the hips pulling her back towards him, and I could tell by the expression on her face the exact moment that he pushed his cock into her. After just a few moments, he said out loud, “I’m going to cum”, and she said, “Cum inside of me” as she looked at me. It was at that moment that I figured out what was coming next. He did come, inside of her, and she kind of collapsed on the bed, and he fell back into a chair. She was quiet.

Soon, she lifted her head and looked at me, and she said, “I have a surprise for you”. She slowly stood up and stood at the foot of the bed looking at me. She then said, “You hurt me last week, and this is my way of hurting you.” As she starting coming around the bed towards me, she said “Now, you are going to eat my pussy, and it is full of his cum”. She crawled onto the bed straddling my chest as she moved herself closer to my face. As she pressed her pussy down against my mouth, she grabbed my hair and started pulling up. I did as she said, I licked her clean, and I could taste his cum in my mouth and throat. It had a metallic taste that was very distinctive. She made me lick it for a long time, and I could look up and see her grinning from ear to ear. She made me stick my tongue inside of the hole to get all of it. She then said to me, “Tell me I’m and angel”. And I did.

By now the boyfriend was dressed and she walked him to the door with her arm around him. She then made me lick her pussy again, just to make sure there was no cum left. This was my first experience cleaning up, and I’m not sure if I hated it, or loved it. The humiliation was overwhelming, yet fascinating. Cindy used everything she had, as a tool to keep me submissive and respectful towards her…or did she? I’ll let you know.

Submitted by: David - So Cal

Home

July 14, 2008

Master Linda

My wife and I had always had a normal sex life until, about a year ago, we got drunk at a party. When we got home and into bed, I blurted out that I wanted her to fuck my ass. She replied that one of her close friends had recently told her that she had used a strapon on her husband and it had been a real turn-on for both of them. Since then, my wife had frequently thought about that conversation and she was finding the idea exciting. We did plenty of research, started with fingering and soon worked up to the first time we would try using a strapon. We decided on a 7inch model with a realistic head, which I selfconsciously bought from our local sex shop.

That night, we put plenty of lube on my ass and I waited excitedly in our bedroom while my wife donned her strapon in the bathroom. She walked in and asked nervously, “Well, what do you think?”. I could hardly believe that I was seeing my beautiful feminine wife standing naked, sporting a 7inch penis. I put my arms around her and, as I kissed her, her strapon touched my leg. I said, “Darling, you look fabulous and I have to say I’m envious of the size of your cock.” She laughed and looked at her reflection in one of the full-length wardrobe mirrors along the length of one wall. By this time, I had an erection, so she grasped her strapon with one hand and held it fully horizontal as we stood together. I said, “Your cock’s bigger than mine, so you’re the boss and you decide what you’re going to do with it.” She put her arms around my neck, brought her lips close to mine and said, “I’m going to put my cock up your ass.” She kissed me hard on the lips, then said, “Lie face down on the bed and get your ass up, ready for me.” I obeyed her and soon felt her cock probing at my ass, quickly followed by the sensation of it entering me. She began slowly and rhythmically, but she was soon thrusting hard into me. I’d never felt so randy in my life, and my excitement was heightened by the thought that this was my wife raping me with her cock. I couldn’t hold on any longer and blew my load into the towel I’d placed beneath me. My wife was oblivious to what I had done and she continued to fuck the hell out of me for several minutes more, before she slowed down and withdrew her cock.

When she’d calmed down she told me that she’d been watching herself in the mirror and she’d experienced such a sensation of power when she saw her cock enter me that she’d almost fainted. The strapon had given her pleasurable stimulation, but the huge turn-on for her (and which had given her multiple orgasms) had been the power she felt as she was fucking me and the kinky thrill that she was dominating a man. She looked me straight in the eye and asked me whether I was prepared to accept that, in future, she intended to be the one calling the shots. I replied that I’d never had such fabulous sex with her before, and I was turned on by being dominated by her, so she could henceforth fuck me when she felt like it. She patted my cheek and said,”I intend to do just that.” And, believe me, she has done so since then!

After our first strapon session, my wife and I could hardly wait to do it again, so the following Saturday night was earmarked for session number 2. My wife (by the way, her name is Linda) spent many hours on the internet during the weekday evenings leading up to Saturday, learning more about the pegging “scene”. She told me that, among other things, she wanted to know the correct language to use and she had discovered with great pleasure that she could refer to me as her “bitch”. In fact, while she was researching, I brought her a coffee and she looked at me, smiled and said, “Thanks, bitch”. My mouth fell open at the casual way she said it, so she patted me on the cheek and said, “I’ll be calling you that on Saturday night, so I’m giving you the chance to get used to it”. On another occasion, I noticed that she was examining femdom websites, so I asked if she was finding it interesting. She stood up, kissed me hard on the lips and said, “It’s more than interesting, it’s fucking mindblowing”. That really surprised me, because I’d never heard her use the F-word except during sex, and I rather weakly said, “Oh, I didn’t know you liked it that much, darling”, to which she replied, “When I fucked you, you told me that you were turned on by being dominated by me, and I told you that I was turned on by the power I felt as I was dominating you, so it seems we’ve discovered a mutually ideal situation and I fully intend to explore this further. Don’t forget, I’m the one who’s calling the shots now!”

On Saturday, Linda went shopping to the city, while I eagerly anticipated the evening to come. When she returned home, she announced that there were several bags of shopping in the car and I should carry them upstairs to the master bedroom. She then told me to wait in the spare bedroom until she summoned me. I guessed she was getting undressed and putting on her strapon, but it seemed to take her a long time and I wondered what she was doing. Eventually, she called to me to go into the master bedroom and lie face down, naked, on the bed. She had gone into the bathroom and it seemed to me that she was deliberately keeping me waiting and building up the tension. My cock was hard, as I relished the thought of seeing my wife and HER cock!

I heard the door being opened, but I could see nothing because I was face down. Then I felt a searing pain on the cheeks of my bottom, which made me jump and turn round quickly. What I saw was beyond my wildest dreams: my beautiful wife was now a whip-wielding goddess in black leather. She was adorned in stiletto-heeled thigh boots, a military-style peaked cap. an eyemask, a choker, a studded bra and a short skirt, and she was flexing a riding crop (which had given me the searing pain) between the hands of her shoulder-length gloves. All in black leather! The entire outfit was so thrillingly bizarre that I didn’t know what to look at next, but my gaze soon fell on the bump in the front of her leather skirt. She saw what I was looking at and laughingly said, “So you can see my hard-on under my skirt, can you? My cock’s erect and it wants man-pussy, but it’ll have to wait until I’ve whipped your ass into shape. Lie face down along the edge of the bed!” I did as she ordered and I felt the sole and heel of her boot pressing on my neck as her whip hit my ass and I jumped involuntarily. “Lie still while I whip you!” she commanded, and I did my best to obey her. After several strokes, I began to whimper and she stopped, saying, “That’ll do for the first time. Turn over and lube my cock; I don’t want to soil my lovely leather gloves.” I put plenty of lube on the 7inch strapon, as I had the feeling that she wouldn’t penetrate me as gently as the first time she’d fucked me. When I’d finished, I asked if I could put some lube on my ass. She sighed and said, “All right, but be quick about it. I’m ready to fuck you now, bitch!” I was still applying the lube when she suddenly knocked the jar out of my hand. “That’s enough!” she barked, her eyes steely-hard behind her leather mask. “Get your ass up, you fucking wimp, or I’ll whip the shit out of you!” I started to tremble, partly because I was afraid of the powerful dominatrix I scarcely recognised as my demure, feminine wife, but mainly in excitement at the ass-fucking I was about to receive. And my penis was throbbing, too. Linda was in no mood to care about what my body was doing, as she was intent only on her pleasure. I gasped as she penetrated me roughly and began to ravish me with her cock. “Hey, bitch!” she said mockingly, as her thrusts grew faster, “I’m watching myself in the mirror as I fuck your male cunt, and this is the biggest turn-on of my life. This is how it’s gonna be from now on!” Her cock was doing unbelievable things to me and it was even better than the first time. My ass was sore from her whipping, and now it had her cock in it, and it was WONDERFUL! I had the most intense orgasm I’d ever experienced in my life, as my wife rode me like the she-stallion she had become.

Linda kept going for ages after that, until she was totally satisfied and withdrew from my ass. She rolled onto the bed beside me and lay there, resplendent in her leather and with her cock jutting upwards. “That was fucking fantastic, my little bitch-husband,” she said, “and I have lots of ideas to try yet.”

As we lay in bed on the following morning, we discussed where our relationship was heading. Firstly, we talked about our “role-reversal”, with my wife taking the man’s role of being dominant and doing the penetrating, while I was in the (supposedly) woman’s role of being submissive and penetrated. Linda made it clear that, although she had plans to develop the role-reversal theme, she had no desire to use her strapon in a lesbian relationship; no matter how submissive or even feminised I would become, her thrill came from knowing that it was a man she was fucking and dominating. As for me, I said that my pleasure emanated from the knowledge that I was being plowed by a woman and, even if she took the role-reversal idea further, she would still be a woman. I hated the thought of being fucked by a man and I couldn’t even consider “lady-boy” transsexuals because, although some of them look beautiful and have boobs, I wouldn’t be able to get it out of my head that each of them has a real penis and is therefore basically a man. Furthermore, neither of us was interested in threesomes.

Secondly, the type of sex we were to have in the future was decided: Linda told me that she would decide, as the whim took her, whether she would peg me or whether we would have conventional sex. If the former, she would be too busy enjoying herself to care about what I was doing so, if I wanted to, I could jack myself off while she was fucking me. If she chose conventional sex, she would be on top and I would be expected to do whatever she wished to maximise her satisfaction.

Finally, Linda said that she had been thinking about our day-to-day married life. Like many women, she had been conditioned into accepting that a man was the head of the house. We had been married for just under 5 years, we had seldom argued and she had always backed down if things became heated, mainly because I’m taller and stronger than she is, and she’d been afraid that I might get physical and hurt her (although that possibility had never entered my head). Now that she’d learned that I wanted to be dominated by her, and she’d discovered the powerful thrill she experienced when she was dominant, she demanded a change in our relationship. We both have well-paid jobs and we enjoy a good social life, with plenty of friends. It would be foolish to jeopardize these, so we would continue to behave as normal in public, as though nothing had changed between us. However, when we came home and locked the door behind us, my wife would be the boss. I said that we live in a detached house with no near neighbours, and we have no children, so what goes on behind closed doors is our business. Linda pointed out that I was almost correct, but I should have said “her business”. I apologised to her.

Just in case anyone thinks that our “role-reversal” activities mean that my wife and I have somehow changed sexes, I think I’d better put the record straight. What I mean is that we both get a kinky thrill from behaving like the opposite sex. As I said, my wife loves playing the man’s role of being the dominant partner and having a “cock”, whereas I adopt the female submissive role. It is a part of our lovemaking, although we like to extend it into other areas of our private life. And my wife enjoys a hard conventional fuck too (frequently after she’s pegged me), with the proviso that she has to be on top. Everything takes place behind closed doors and, as we live in an isolated house, we can be as adventurous as we like without fear of discovery. In actual fact, that means we can be as adventurous as my dominant wife likes.

Linda has bought several strapons of varying lengths and thicknesses. She loves wearing black leather because it heightens her feelings of dominance, and her leather clothing and footwear collection has become extensive, but her favourite trousers are so skintight that a cock has to be worn on top of the trousers. She usually wears a short thick black one (to match the colour of the trousers) and it is quite something to see her striding about the house, with her trousers tucked into high-heeled knee-length lace-up boots and a cock protruding from her crotch! She also bought men’s leather trousers, because they have a more generous crotch size and they have room for a strapon that isn’t rock-hard rigid. She adores posing in front of a mirror, looking at the bulge made by her cock in her leather trousers, and when she occasionally summons me by calling “Bitch! Come and admire my hard-on!”, then I know she’s in the mood for pegging me good and hard. By way of prolonging the pleasure, she has developed some novel foreplay before she fucks me: she sits in a high-backed armchair by the fireside (which is known as “the master’s chair”) and I have to kneel in front of her while she slowly unzips her trousers and takes out her cock. She loves watching me put a condom on her cock, then she applies bright red lipstick to my lips (you’ve probably heard of women wearing “fuck me” lipstick; well, Linda says I’m wearing “suck it” lipstick), then she orders me to suck her cock. She thrusts it into my mouth to ensure that I get the full treatment, while she says things like “My little bitch-husband’s sucking my cock. I like it!” She keeps one of her riding crops beside the master’s chair and, if my cock-sucking performance isn’t pleasing her, she lets me feel her whip touching my cheek, as a warning. She used to take me upstairs to bed after that, but she changed the routine one day. She suddenly withdrew her cock from my mouth, then she commanded me to position myself over the arm of the chair, with my ass at the correct height for her to enter me. As my wife pegged me on the master’s chair, I couldn’t help thinking ironically that there was no doubt that she was now the master! I said that to her when she’d finished doing me, and she chuckled and declared that it was a fabulous piece of gender-reversal: the wife being the master! She pointed out that she’s the boss and her cock is bigger than mine, so it’s only natural that I should acknowledge her as the Master of the house. Until then, I’d called her “mistress” at home, but she now commanded me to address her as “master”. She, meanwhile, calls me “bitch” or “wimp” or “slave” or any other derogatory term she wishes. For example, one Saturday morning I woke up in bed, turned and saw her still asleep beside me, so I kissed her gently on the cheek and said “Wake up, master”. She yawned, slowly opened her eyes and sleepily said “Don’t tell me what to do, you fucking tart. I’m going back to sleep”. Even when she’s half-asleep, she’s dominant!

Master Linda has long straight blonde hair, parted in the middle, and a beautiful face with blue eyes, smooth skin and a little pert nose. She is fastidious about her hair and make-up, and she looks beautifully feminine with shining hair, glossy pink lipstick and lovely eye-makeup. It’s fascinating to watch as she puts on a military-style peaked black leather cap, a black leather eyemask (which she says makes her feel evil) and a black leather studded (or spiked) choker, and she lets her blonde hair cascade over the black leather of a severe jacket or waistcoat. Her feminine little face is transformed into a powerful dominant countenance, with ice-hard eyes threatening behind her leather mask. She’s 5feet 7 inches tall, but in her 4inch high-heeled boots her face is level with mine (I’m 5feet 11inches) and she’s developed the tactic of tilting her head back slightly so that she is looking down her nose at me. In 5inch heels or more, she towers above me and, believe me, when I look up at her leather-masked face, I wouldn’t dream of arguing when she reminds me that she’s the Master. Some time ago, she added one further touch to make her look (and feel) even more powerful, and also to continue the role-reversal theme: she started smoking cigars. She’d only ever smoked cigarettes occasionally, mainly at social events and never at home, because she knew I disapproved as I’m a non-smoker. When she became the boss, she declared that she’d smoke at home whenever she wished and if I didn’t like it, I could lump it. Then, one day when she was surfing femdom websites, she saw a photo of a domme smoking a cigar. Master Linda reckoned that the cigar enhanced the domme’s powerful image, as cigars have always been associated with power and authority. So, she reasoned, as the Master of the house, she had the authority and therefore a smoldering cigar in her mouth or in her hand would be (together with her black leather clothing, whips and strapons) another visible signal to me of her authority. She started with small cigars but found them too bitter, then she moved on to long slim panatellas, which she quite liked but she didn’t think looked sufficiently authoritative. She then progressed to full panatellas, which she enjoys enormously. When she’s smoking a cigar, she wears short black leather gloves, for two reasons: firstly, she doesn’t want tobacco stains on her fingers and secondly, she adores the elegantly powerful look of a woman holding her cigar between her black leather-gloved fingers. During “normal” (ie non-sexual) times at home, Master Linda smokes shop-bought machine-made panatellas and the aroma of her cigars is greatly preferable to cigarettes. In fact, I must admit it’s a thrilling example of role-reversal to see my wife’s beautifully feminine face with a powerful, dark cigar clenched between her lips. I really get turned on by the sight of her at home wearing my favourite of her “everyday” leather outfits (knee-length boots, skirt, tight waistcoat over a white shirt) while she’s smoking one of her cigars. She made it clear that it’s a mere man’s job to light his dominant wife’s cigars, so when she selects a cigar, I have to hurry to her with a lighter at the ready while she smirkingly issues the command “Slave, light my cigar!” I then have to wait until she takes a few cool puffs of her cigar, and I’m then dismissed when she brings her face close to mine and slowly exhales her cigar smoke in my face. It always makes me cough and she laughingly says “What’s wrong? Is your master-wife’s cigar smoke too strong for you, wimp-boy?” She prefers the more refined flavour of a premium hand-rolled cigar for our sex-sessions and she buys Churchill cigars which she stores carefully in her humidor. It’s a turn-on for both of us in the bedroom, to look in the wardrobe mirror and see her sheathed in kinky black leather and smoking a large cigar while she’s shafting me.

When Linda became the Master, she decide to take steps to consolidate her authority, just in case I had thoughts of rebelling against her (as if I ever would). She decided to improve her physical abilities, so she began working out at the gym and she enrolled in a course of unarmed combat. She had the advantage of not having to get rid of any excess body fat when she started at the gym, so she could almost immediately begin developing her muscles, and she worked very hard at it. She quickly progressed to more demanding sessions and both she and her instructor were delighted to see the speed and extent of her progress. Each time she stripped off at home, I could see how her muscles were developing. As I said earlier, her favourite leather trousers were skintight; they weren’t like that to begin with, but her leg muscles have become far more developed. Her arm muscles became solid and she began to test them by challenging me to arm-wrestling contests. At first, I would win using either hand, but she soon began to beat me when we used our left hands (we’re both right-handed), until the left-hand contest became too easy for her. It wasn’t long before she began to defeat me regularly with her right hand, until I was totally unable to match her. She stopped arm-wrestling me after the time that I nearly did myself an injury when straining with all my might and being unable to move her hand even an inch, while she sat there defying me with no apparent effort, as she casually smoked a cigar with her left hand. When she became bored, she demonstrated her supremacy by clutching my hand in an iron grip that made me wince, then she smashed my arm down on the table. As her muscles have become even more powerful since then, I have no wish to challenge her again. I have no interest in body-building, and I don’t understand her references to bench-presses, abs , pectorals and such like, but when she tells me of each new achievement (such as lifting bigger weights than some of the men could manage), I smile, kiss her gently on the cheek and say “Well done, master”. She likes to strike a body-builder pose and order me to feel her muscles, and I’m amazed how rock-hard they are. She’s become highly proficient in unarmed combat and can demonstrate all sorts of martial arts moves. She used to pin me using judo (or some such) holds, but she soon tired of it, saying that I was too easy to defeat. She wrestled me once and, after throwing me around for a short time, she wrapped her legs around my torso and squeezed so tightly that I had to beg her to stop before she crushed my ribs. But her favourite sport is boxing and she’s superb at it, skilful and strong. She suggested that I accompany her to the gym one evening, as she was due to fight another woman for the title of “Best Female Boxer”. She entered the ring looking fabulous, with her hair tied back in a pony tail beneath her headguard, and wearing a black vest and white shorts. It’s quite something to see one’s wife wearing boxing gloves! Although the other woman was bigger, she was also slower and she was really no match for my wife, who knocked her down twice in the first round. The opponent landed a couple of hefty blows early in the second round, but they didn’t bother my wife, who showed her boxing skills by smoothly evading further punches before unleashing a combination of punches that left her opponent dazed and then finishing her off with a dazzling right hand. If I was impressed by that, it was nothing to what I witnessed a few months later. Master Linda had been confined to shadow-boxing, hitting a punchbag, sparring etc and occasionally fighting the occasional new female challenger, but these bouts were too easy for her. One of the men at the gym had made some disparaging comments about women using equipment that he wanted, and my wife heard this and said that the equipment was for everyone to use, on a first-come, first-served basis. He argued back and soon it was a stand-up argument, with the guy shouting that if she wasn’t a woman, he’d give her a thumping. Master Linda retorted that her sex shouldn’t concern him and if he thought he could beat her, why didn’t he prove it in the ring? The gym officials weren’t too happy, but the women said that there would be trouble under sex-equality rules, so the officials reluctantly agreed to the contest late that night, when nobody but interested parties would be present. Master Linda phoned me and told me to come to the gym, as she was about to fight a man and she wanted me to see her in action. I knew how good she was, but I was afraid that a man would overpower her. How wrong could I be? The man was an inch taller than my wife, and weighed152lbs to her 147lbs, so he should have held the advantage, I won’t go through the entire fight, but I will say that she seemed to skilfully evade nearly all of his punches, taking most of the rest on her arms. The few that did get through didn’t seem to trouble her much, and she scarcely moved when he hit her in the midriff with a solid right hand. When he tried a clinch, she simply shrugged him off, causing him to stumble backwards. Meanwhile, Master Linda was catching him with left jabs to the face, which left blood trickling from his nose at the end of the first round. The men in the crowd were anxiously yelling at him to get on with it, because she’s only a woman, while the female part of the crowd were cheering my wife on. During the second round, Master Linda’s superiority over her male opponent became more obvious, as her jabs were turning his face red and blood was coming from both nostrils and a cut beside his right eye. She was also experimenting with combinations of punches that staggered him. Her fists smashed into his face with regularity, then she drove a piledriver right-hand into his midriff that doubled him up. He took a couple of steps back, then threw a swinging haymaker of a punch that caught my wife on the side of her headguard. It snapped her head to one side and I feared the worst, but she simply resumed her fighting stance and launched a jolting jab of her own that drew more blood from his cut eye. The referee looked closely at his face and it looked as though the fight was over, but the guy refused to concede to a woman and insisted on carrying on. Master Linda sat calmly in her corner, not breathing heavily and with an unmarked face. She had taken his best punches and she was reducing him to a pulp. At the start of the third round, the men in the crowd could barely raise any encouragement for their man, as they knew he was beaten. The women were chanting “Finish him, finish him!” as Master Linda strode aggressively towards her male opponent. She punched him in the face, then doubled him up with a body punch. As his head dropped forward, shemashed a right uppercut into his jaw, nearly lifting him off his feet and laying him flat on his back. The referee didn’t have to count, as the poor guy lay there with his eye almost closed, his face covered in blood and all resistance knocked out of him. My wife stood over the man she had knocked out as the referee raised her arm in triumph and declared her the winner. The men drifted away silently, while the women were going wild, and I was still stunned by my wife’s power and her boxing skills. When we arrived home that night, I rushed to bring a victory cigar and her leather smoking gloves to Master Linda. As I carefully cut the end of the cigar and handed it to her , she said that it was a fantastic turn-on for a woman to challenge a man to a fight, then to see her punches doing damage to him and finally for her to knock him out with her fists. She smoked her cigar with great satisfaction, exhaling her smoke high into the air, then she turned her beautiful, feminine face to me and said “I’ll beat the fucking shit out of you if you ever get any ideas about not being my slave. Do you understand?” I was scarcely able to stammer “Yes, master”, as she puffed her cigar smoke in my face.

And, finally, what has happened to me? Well, my wonderful wife has taught me all about female clothing, make-up, toiletries etc. My body hair is shaved, so that I look feminine when I dress in a maid’s costume or in women’s clothes. I’ve become quite an expert at putting on my make-up and I have several wigs to complement my large (and growing) collection of bras, skirts, sheer stockings, corsets, skirts, elegant shoes, frilly blouses and lovely dresses. Master Linda has taught me to act in a gentle way and to become the demure, pretty woman she once was, and she is delighted at how far we have come in our gender-reversal lives at home. Of course, when we are at work or in public or with friends, we have to behave as society expects from our genders. Fortunately, my wife’s boxing remains a secret known only to the boxing community at her gym. She has had no other fights with men since her mixed match, presumably because men are apprehensive about taking her on. Her inter-gender triumph has passed into history and the furore it caused has died down. Nor has she become a muscle “freak”; she has reached a level of muscularity which both she and wider society find acceptable and her friends admire her and say how well she is doing at the gym. Her beautiful face and long blonde hair soften the muscular aspects of her appearance and she now maintains her level of muscular development, rather than trying to increase it. She doesn’t smoke cigars in public and her leatherwear, strapons and whips (which she only uses on me occasionally because of the problems associated with marking me) remain firmly behind closed doors at home. All aspects of our secret life are hidden when friends call at our house (if there is a lingering whiff of cigar smoke, I say that I have one occasionally) and we behave as a “normal” man and wife do, calling each other “darling” and talking to each other “normally”. It’s only when our friends are going, and we’re standing at the door waving goodbye, that Master Linda surreptitiously pinches my bottom and whispers in my ear “I’m dying to smoke one of my cigars, put on some leather and fuck your tight little ass, you litle bitch”.

Submitted by: Her slave

« Previous Page Next Page »