Cruel Feminist

I have always been into feminism. Being a feminist does not
mean that I am quite as radical as the other women in the
movement. But I do have one radical purpose in life, and that is
to make men my sex slaves.
It’s not that I hate men. On the contrary, I don’t think
that I could live without them. But on the other hand, I live
for the opportunity to have them serve me as their mistress. I
haven’t had any trouble finding males to do my bidding. I’ve got
a stable of four male slaves right now. They are only too happy
to come to me on their knees and do everything that I command of
them.
They know that their mistress craves satisfaction, and if
she does not receive it, my puny slaves will fell my wrath. I
don’t think that men are good for fucking a pussy. But they are
good for sucking a pussy! A man’s tongue can do things that an
ordinary penis cannot. It is more flexible, more able to dip
deep for my buried cunt treasure.
I won’t keep a man in my salve stable unless he can really
make me come. He as to give me a tongue fuck unlike anything
that I have ever experienced before. Of my four slaves, the most
sexually adept at licking my slit is Lenny. He works his tongue
like a master’s paintbrush. He has a special place in my slave
stable.
When Lenny comes over to my house for a typical session, the
first thing that I do is make him lick my glossy black patent
pumps. It is sort of a tongue exercise for him, to get his
tongue in working order for when he scours another part of my
anatomy.
Once my shoes are very shiny, I take a pair of handcuffs and
cuff his hands behind his back. Then I rip off his clothing and
cuff his ankles together as well. I strip down to my leather
corsette and nylons and take up a position clear across the room.
“Crawl over to your mistress, you puny slave,” I command.
Likely if I took up a position six miles down the road, Lenny
wouldn’t mind crawling to get his reward between by thighs. It
can be awkward with his hands behind his back like that. It’s
difficult for Lenny to keep his balance. I like to make it as
hard as possible. Men should suffer frustration before they get
to the pleasure.
It is a slow precess for Lenny. It usually takes him about
five minutes to ge to me. I further give him an ultimatum by
telling him that if he doesn’t get to me within six minutes then
he will be denied my slit and other forms of sexual pleasures for
the rest of the evening.
By the time that Lenny gets to me, my pussy is almost on
fire. My cunt is like a steam bath, my tender twat desperately
needing to be soothed. Lenny pushes his tongue against my
swollen pussylips and licks all over them before he enters my
cunt.
His tongue feels like a dagger as it penetrates my sex hole.
I tell him to lick like he means it, as I reach up and give a
hard yank on his hair. Sometimes I push his face so hard into my
crotch that the guy almost suffocates from lack of air.
Lenny’s tongue travels in a dozen directions as he does his
best to satisfy me. All the while I taunt him, telling him to
suck like he means it. He craves verbal abuse as if he’s a lousy
cunt licker. For five solid minutes, Lenny swills out my slit
until he brings me over the line into the world of orgasmic
release.
My slit really goes mushy as my cunt cream gushes onto his
tongue. I don’t want him to get too much of it, so after his
first mouthful, I push his head away from my slit, replacing it
with my fingers. I catch all of my sauce as it flows freely. I
lap up my own juice. Why should a slave enjoy my discharge like
that?
What I do to males my seem like cruel and unusual
punishment. That’s what I want it to be.

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