FemDom Blog » water bondage

Only the start

Administrator — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 11:37:04 +0000

“Whatever turns you on!” I thought to myself, and hit her on her
chin causing her head to momentarily bob backwards.

“Harder!” She said, sounding quite exasperated now, “Come on,
don’t be frightened, I want you to do it!”

“Alright,” I thought, “Don’t say you didn’t ask for it!” Screwing my fist into a tight ball I punched her squarely in her face, making
her stagger backwards and causing a trickle of blood to start running
out of her nose. At the time I thought that would shut her up so I
could get on with some serious fucking, but it was only the start!

“That’s better,” She smiled as she licked the blood off her upper
lip, “Now hit me really hard!” As she spoke the last words I noticed
her hand settled on her pubic mound and the middle finger explore between her thighs.

Femdom Story

Administrator — Tue, 08 Jan 2008 18:09:46 +0000

After what seemed like hours you finally hear me come
through the door. After that, nothing. You know I’m in the house
but you can’t hear where I am. You suddenly feel a presence
behind you but you discount it as your imagination but the
feeling persists and you start feeling scared. You feel two
rubber-clad hands gently grasp your head where the lower jaw
connects with your skull. You know better than to speak or move.
I rotate your head 90 degrees and you feel two soft lips pressed
to yours as a sweet tasting tounge sweeps through your mouth and
just as quickly the tounge and lips leave and your head is
returned to the forward position. You feel two clothed arms wrap
around your shoulders and my soft lips nibbling on your ear.

“Stay perfectly still, little boy, and you’ll be just fine,”
I whisper in your ear, followed by a quick tounge flick. I then
sit on your lap — you sense what feels like a leather skirt –
and rest one arm over your shoulder while my other hand is
stroking your thigh and hip — avoiding your very rigid penis. I
gently press my cheek to yours and say, “You did pretty well for
a boy except you didn’t put ‘hospital corners’ on the bed so I’ll
have to punish you for that. Mrs. Schueler next door said that
she saw you take out the trash wearing only a dish towel over
your crotch. She liked what she saw, and so do I. Come, time to
have a bit of fun!”

I hop up off your lap and order you to get on your hands and
knees. You do as you are told and instinctively spread your legs
wide apart. “Very good, Slave, I see you’ve done this before,”
say right before a on your buttocks. “What do
you say, Slave?”

“Thank you, Mistress, may I have another!”

“ Thank you, Mistress, may I have another!”

“That’s enough for now, slave. When you come back tomorrow,
I will expect everything to be perfect or you’ll wish you were’nt
here. Now, close your eyes as I remove the blindfold. It’s
about time you saw your Mistress, who you will be serving.”

I stand in front of you and remove the blindfold. I tell
you to open your eyes and slowly rise and behold me. First thing
you see when you open your eyes are my black leather (low heel)
shoes and black stockings. As you rise to your knees, you follow
my stockings up until they stop about two inches below my black
leather miniskirt but my black silk garters bridge the skin gap.
As you rise to your feet you see my slim, bare midriff between my
skirt and a tight-fitting knit black long sleeve halter top with
a crew neck. You see my nipples pressing against the fabric at
the tips of two beautifully shaped breasts. Your eyes wander up
to my face and gaze at my wavy shoulder-length light brown hair,
my two deep blue eyes, my petite nose, and my very kissable lips.
You are in awe of my angelic face on an angelic body dressed like
a harlot. I break your blank gaze at me by snapping the black
latex gloves off my hand and tossing them aside.

“What do you think,” I snarl.

“Uh, uh, uh, uh…” You babble.

“Shut up, slave, and put your hands on top of your head,” I
growl.

You wonder how such a sweet looking thing like me can take
such command over you instead of the other way around. I toss
your shirt at you from behind and order you to put it on. I then
come up behind you and attach a heavy leather belt around your
waist and buckle it in back with the click of a padlock. I then
buckle leather bonds to your wrists and padlock them to the rings
on their respective sides of the belt. To finish off the package
I attach a collar around your neck and lock it into place with a
little silver lock. I take you to a full length mirror so you
can admire yourself.

I can tell you like what you see because your cock is
standing straight out and jiggling away. “Slave, lay on the
floor on your back!” I command.

You have a bit of trouble but you manage it without damaging
the goods. I then straddle your head so you can see right up my
short miniskirt. I ask you what you see. You reply black
panties. I tell you they are black leather panties complete with
little cilia inside tickling my lips and twat. I tell you that
whenever I walk, sit, or even move my lower body, those little
cilia do their little dirty work on me. I tell you that someday
you will have the privilege to remove those panties and take over
for those little cilia but until that time you must prove to me
that you are as good as those little cilia. Since obviously
housework isn’t your speciality, I expect you to have a
speciality which will make my home life easer PLUS be able to
have my house perfectly clean or else your little friend between
your legs will never know what is under these panties.

I stand away from you and order you on your stomach. Again,
you have difficulty but only slightly damage the goods because it
kept getting in the way. You finally get into position with your
dick hanging between your spread legs. I unlock the belt and
wrist cuffs. I then order you to your feet. You stand before me
looking so crestfallen because you’re not getting any pussy
tonight.

“Aww, poor baby. Just to encourage good behaviour, I want
you to hold me close,” I purr. I put my arms around you with one
hand firmly grasping your ass while you slip one hand under my
top while the other pats my buttocks. We kiss passionately as we
trade tounges and our lips lock. I’m so busy kissing you and
feeling your ass that I don’t feel your hand sliding down my ass
and pull up slightly on my skirt and then tickle the crotch of my
panties.

“YOW!!” I squeal, jumping away from you but falling on my
face because your hand got caught in my hem. “Why you dirty
little boy! I’ll show you!” I laughingly scream. I order you up
against the wall on your back. I get out a sheer condom and a
big, fluffy feather.

I put the condom on you and then tell you that I’m gonna
show you how that felt. I take the feather and tickle your cock.
We’re both laughing to tears as you and your cock jiggle
violently while I’m tickling your friend. When you finally cum,
I remove and dispose of the cum filled condom as you lean against
the wall to rest. When I return I have regained most of my
composure and only have a big grin on my face.

“You are so beautiful and wonderful, Mistress,” you say
while giving your cock a rubdown.

“Get out,” I exclaim.

“What?”

“Get out. Don’t forget to come back tomorrow with cleaning
skills and some other domestic skill.”

“What about my pants and this collar?” you whine, your
laughter ceased.

“I have to punish you somehow. Your punishment is to go home
pantless and wearing a dog collar. Be thankful I don’t make you
go home totally naked with you hands cuffed in front of you.”

“Yes, Mistress,” you say heading for the door. But just
before you go over the threshold, I decide that maybe you should
go totally naked. You take off your shirt and head out to your
car and go home.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow, Slave,” I snarl to myself.

Exhaustion In Bondage

Administrator — Fri, 14 Sep 2007 16:03:08 +0000

That was the beginning. Every Friday night after that she
would be waiting for me after work in her convertible to take me
home with her. A couple of times I tried to resist, but she
simply reached out to take my wrist in a bonecrushing grip and
force me into the car. At her home, she would strip me naked,
change into tights and, after making me bet her my paycheck that
she could do whatever she wanted with me, spend the next hour or
so doing whatever she wanted with me. I tried to reason with
her, pointing out that she was leaving me nothing but my savings
to live on, but she simply laughed and told me to let her know
when my savings were exhausted. After a few weeks, when it
became apparent that I was completely defenseless against her,
she stopped going through the formality of betting me and would
simply take my paycheck and whatever else she wanted away from
me. After she had finished with me, and I was lying at her feet
either unconscious or sobbing and begging for mercy, she would
pick me up, throw me over her shoulder, carry me upstairs to her
bedroom and spend the rest of the night raping me until I finally
fainted from sheer exhaustion.

No Escape

Administrator — Thu, 06 Sep 2007 17:34:52 +0000

Then I felt her hand grip my penis firmly, her
thumb over its tip, as she began to masturbate me. I gasped and
redoubled my efforts at resistance, but she quickly locked her
legs around mine and I was encased in a steel vice from which I
could not escape as she continued to manipulate my body at will.
I had never believe it possible for a woman to rape a man,
but Bonnie had me writhing with a throbbing erection within a few
minutes, as pangs of sexual desire flooded my body. I heard
myself moaning in mingled shame and passion, and as she finally
mounted me and took me inside her I thought I was going to climax
right then and there. Somehow, she stopped me. Something about
the way her hands held my body, that I haven’t figured out to
this day, brought me back from the brink until she was ready, and
then I heard her breathe, “Now!” and the world exploded in an
orgasm that filled my entire being, lifting me with her and
carrying me on a wave of ecstacy to heights I had never known
before.
When it was over, I lay limp and quivering beneath her as
she grinned down at me. “I think you just lost this week’s
paycheck, baby,” she told me softly. “And don’t tell me it
wasn’t worth it. From the way you were moaning, I’ll bet it was
the best you’ve ever had.” Despite being redfaced with shame, I
had to admit she was right, and when I said so she laughed. “For
what it’s worth, baby, you were pretty good yourself, good enough
that I think I may take you around a few more times before the
night is out. After that, well, we’ll see how you hold up.”
She was as good as her word. She held me helpless on the
bed and raped me again and again, so often I lost count. Even
when I thought I had no more to give her, somehow she brought me
to climax after climax, sometimes when it seemed that I was only
semiconscious, controlling my body with her hands and lips in a
way I would never have thought possible. There was no question
of my failing her–she wouldn’t let me fail her; even when I was
moaning and begging her to stop, although I swore my body could
feel nothing else, she would laugh and force me into another,
incredible orgasm.

Femdom Sexuality

Administrator — Sun, 02 Sep 2007 14:54:23 +0000

She grinned at my helplessness. “Can’t you guess? You
know, beating you up really turned me on in a big way. And that
soft, sexy little body of yours–well, it’s enough to drive a
girl wild. I damn near raped you just carrying you up here. But
now that I’ve got you in bed, baby, I’m going to bang you like
you’ve never been banged before. And you’re going to love every
minute of it.”
I gasped in dismay. That would be the final blow. Being
raped by a girl! The thought sent chills down my spine. “That–
that’s impossible!” I croaked.
She laughed. “Wanta bet? I’ll bet you your paycheck I can
do anything I want to with you. Watch!”
Still holding my wrists pinned behind my head with one hand
and my crotch firmly in the grip of her other hand, she lowered
her head to capture my mouth with her own in a crushing french
kiss that took my breath away. Then, before I could recover, she
was biting and kissing my face and neck with a passion that
amazed me. As she did so, I felt the hand cupping my crotch
start to massage and stroke me intimately, tickling the inside of
my thighs and caressing my testicles while I struggled helplessly
in her grip.

Man In Bondage

Administrator — Wed, 29 Aug 2007 11:01:33 +0000

Seeing my eyes open, she
chuckled and leaned down to kiss me lightly on the tip of my
nose. “Welcome back, baby,” she said. “I was beginning to think
you’d never come around.”
“How–how did I get here?” I blurted.
She laughed. “Why, I carried you up here, of course. After
I took your clothes off. You know, baby, you have a very nice,
soft, little body, just the kind I like to play with. And you
made a marvelous armful as I was carrying you up here, so cute
and cuddly. I think I’m going to have lots of fun with you.”
I gasped and tried to get up, only to find that both my
wrists were locked back over my head in the powerful grasp of her
left hand. As I continued to struggle I felt her other hand
slide between my thighs to firmly cup my penis and testicles in
her palm. I stopped struggling in a hurry. “What–what are you
going to do with me?” I stammered.

Femdom Lessons

Administrator — Wed, 15 Aug 2007 10:07:14 +0000

After I had regained my breath and some semblance of com-
posure, she asked me if I thought I could beat her at anything.
I told her that I had done some boxing in college, but that I
would never dream of fighting a girl. She laughed and asked,
“What’s the matter? Afraid I’ll clean your clock for you?” and
produced two pair of boxing gloves. I hesitated, but finally
decided this girl needed a lesson, so I put them on and we
squared off. Initially, she seemed content to fight defensively;
I used every trick I knew, but she was incredibly fast, and her
bobbing and weaving caused me to miss almost every punch I threw.
The few that were on target she easily slipped or blocked.
Finally, in desperation, I threw a roundhouse right, but she
stepped inside it and, taking the initiative, began peppering me
with jabs and hooks to my face and body that came with blurring
speed and sent me reeling backward.

Gorgeous Amazon Sex Story

Administrator — Sun, 12 Aug 2007 16:26:17 +0000

I first met Bonnie two years ago in a health club to which
we both belonged, and I was immediately struck by her strength,
beauty and femininity. An inch taller than my own 5′9″ and with
a powerful, muscular, yet shapely body that outweighed my own by
a good ten pounds, I was fastinated at the way she could outlift
most of the men at the club and struck up a conversation with
her. When she invited me to come home with her I accepted
eagerly.
However, I soon discovered what she had in mind for me.
Quickly changing into sensuous black tights that revealed every
muscle and curve of her fantastic body, she challenged me to a
friendly wrestling match. Almost drooling at the prospect of
physical contact with this gorgeous Amazon, I readily agreed, and
before I realized it she had me downstairs on a wrestling mat in
her gameroom.

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Teachers Daughter

Administrator — Sat, 06 May 2006 16:14:01 +0000

Ask any teacher what the worst day is, and surprisingly few will remember the first day of work. The rumble in their tummy as they stand before a blackboard for the very first time, alone and without a supervisor seems to fade for them. It has never faded away for me, and I recall it vividly.
In my case it was even worse than average. I had come back to my hometown after graduating college; disappointing my parents who had expected me to move out and be a big success “away” somewhere. I explained that I’d come home to “give something back to the community”, but it was complete balderdash. What I was really doing was burying myself in my work, trying to avoid admitting something that no-one else knew.
In college I had become Mistress to a lithe blond tart named Jacqueline “Tennisball” Turner. In some way, we’d been very much in love. I’d revelled in every whipping or spanking I gave her. She gloried in the loving abuse I heaped on her. But eventually I’d convinced myself that this wasn’t what I wanted.
I was a “normal” woman, with normal desires. I wanted a husband and kids and. . . .And I wanted Tennie, or piggy, as I’d sometimes called her, crawling to lick a pair of black leather boots with four-inch heels that clung so tightly to my legs that my slave often had to yank them off me while I broke the suction with a shoehorn. I wanted her head bobbing vigorously between my thighs as the little electric shocks of pleasure shot from my clitoris. I wanted to hang her from the ceiling beam of my little house and beat her ass raw for breaking dishes, to set her impossible tasks and punish her for failing at them.
But I wanted other things too: the touch of her breath on my neck when I let her sleep in my bed; the soft look in her eyes when she knelt at the foot of that bed with my morning coffee; the contented hum of her when all the happy violence was over, the sweat and sometimes tears dried, and she cuddled into my arms during decompression.
And I wanted all of this while leading a June-Cleaver-with-a-career existence? It was too much, and I knew it. But while I sorted all this out I still had rent to pay, first to my parents, then to a landlord, and finally to a mortgage company. I found a job at a high school in town (not the Catholic school I’d attended, but a newer secular school called Park West Secondary).
On the first day of classes, I was way too early. Only the school custodian was in the hall as I entered the Old Building (the one built in 1976 was the New Building) and made my way to room 108 West. The classroom was empty, and I unlocked the door but left the light off. Instead I went to the door at the back of the class. In other days it would have been a storage space. The teacher I had replaced, one Mr. Carruthers, had been in the habit of smoking a pipe quietly in there while grading papers, and the room had that lovely “gentleman’s club” smell of old leather armchair, shoe polish, and pipe tobacco. It’s a smell I’ve always associated with luxury.
There was a little narrow window facing the soccer field, and long shelves of dusty textbooks along the wall with the door in. I put my necessary things into the desk and cupboards, my clipboard, a pack of marking pens, chalk (any teacher will tell you, you bring your own and hoard your supply), and my coffee mug.
My coffee mug.