Friday Femdom Fiction: Caught, Shamed and Spanked

The smell of simmering chicken broth permeated the air like a soothing hug. She’d left him tucked up, with an enormous box of kleenex and the lamp pleasantly dim, after several return trips to fluff up his pillows just so and see him cozy. He’d gone to sleep with some terrible television show streaming, and she’d left him in peace to nap for an hour. But now, she heard stirring and flicked the electric kettle on, before she went to check up on her patient.

The blanket was pulled up to his bare chest, the laptop balanced just so in front of him, and his left arm hidden below the covers. His collar was a thick band, worn loose on his throat so he could rest comfortably.  She raised her eyebrows. “Feeling better?”

“A bit better…” His voice had that careful hint of gratitude of a person unsure but pleased to find themselves looked after. And something else.

“Whatcha doing?” She loomed in, fluffing up the pillow behind him and glancing at the screen. White background Reddit and a couple of other tabs. Suspicious. “Gone Wild?”

That would have meant a series of coltish, fae girls, making doe eyes hopeful looks into the camera or sprawling just so, splay legged and prone. She smirked as his reticence confirmed what she thought and kept looking at the computer, checking and finding other hints. “Hmmm, and ‘Majorie’s Birthday Spanking’. You were really hoping I wouldn’t notice, weren’t you?”

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Femdom Book Review: Glamourhai by Jess Mahler

Glamourhai by Jess Mahler

Jess Mahler is also the author behind “Fantasy for the Kinky“, and has released one of her serials in ebook form, complete with a lovely cover- I’ve reviewed her work already with the short story “Fealty“. As such I had the good fortune to get a review copy of Glamourhai.

When people write BDSM stories, they are generally wank material or romances. Whether they are con-non-con, torture tourism or strictly spank and smooch, sexual and romantic desire is a central point behind the main characters’ interactions. This book is none of these.

What it is, is a femdom focused fantasy novel by an experienced writer. That’s pretty much the best one could wish for, to have the subject material handled by someone with strong technical skills and a love for the subject material. On the flip side, it’s a surprisingly chaste book about coming into your own regarding your orientation- there is more fantasy adventure here than fucking, and the romance is mostly onto the side characters.

To summarize the plot: In a land ruled by fairie lieges who feed on the emotional energy of human thralls, a young man (Mattin) trades himself in a lifetime of service to a relatively benevolent fairy lady to try to win back a sister (Marta) who has been claimed by a much less kind fairie lord. However, things are not all they seem- between finding his feet in a bizarre magical household and navigating the dangerous politics of the realm, Mattin must discover if he can truly submit to his Lady. She, for her part, has to deal with actually needing to let someone adjust to their role instead of a comforting, easy insta-sub like the rest of her household and a strong desire to have him accept his role willingly.

Fantasy, as a genre, often provides us with conceits that let us explore alternative social arrangements and relationship dynamics that are otherwise improbable or rare- in this book, the prevailing mode of business is poly. From the perspective of the sympathetic characters, rape and non-consensual torture is morally wrong, but regrettably common and the human subjects of the fairies collectively live in a feudal system where they  live like medieval vassals.

If I had to make a comparison to Jess Mahler’s style, it’s as if Mercedes Lackey or maybe Anne McCaffery took up writing femdom- by this I mean that it’s a very personality and feelings driven story- in which the central conflict is settling precisely what is the correct emotional approach and practical coping skills for a new environment- with bonus sensible perpetually middle aged types and experienced hands watching out for whatever awakening is taking place.

And yet it’s a world laced with sex that is without much sex between the primary characters- to be frank, Mattin’s awakening was a lot closer to a religious calling. The fairie lady everyone serves simply does not fuck her servants just to punch up the erotica factor gratiously.  She might sexually tease them, but if servants get horny, it’s up to their fellow humans to figure that part out. Not much time is devoted to her sexual head space in favour of a focus on her emotional desires, and her hopes and dears for Mattin.

Indeed, Mattin doesn’t persue her in that sense eithere- his sexuality is expressed in a way that’s almost vanilla, the sort of tasteful sluttiness matched with the equal tastefully slutty human female household member. There’s a m/m side romance between some other characters, and everyone else has a jolly, happy attitude to sexuality that is more cozy than vulgar.

Personally, my sexuality and my BDSM is more vulgar than cozy, and a lot less nice. Thus I found myself in an uncomfortable position, which I have to move into spoilers to talk about- so, after the jump…

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The Choke Point & My Cunt, His Cock

It’s always tight, when the tip of his cock slides into me. My cunt has a choke point, starting sex, like I was some sort of customize part of the Fleshlight or Tenga product line. It’s not something you get to see in sex diagrams- the kind with simplified, labelled anatomy, where you get to see a split view of a pelvis and the vagina is a lightly bumpy tube sandwiched between other less savoury tubing.

He, Wildcard, says I’m often gripping to the point of discomfort, at first, which makes me shy even though he’s not actually complaining. Sometimes, when he’s inside me, most often when he’s come, I bring the muscles within myself together, like I’m blinking. I feel him, like wrapping my hand around a rod- he takes a long time to soften after coming, and I can keep grabbing it- clench-clench.

It’s harder to grab on while he’s fucking me. Mostly I end up on top of him, but on top of me, he favours a steady, dragging stroke, almost a pulling rather than a burrowing thrust. I really like it, feeling a sort of double wrapping effect- he fills me up, and then his slimness fits neatly between my thighs.

I like cunt and cock as a matching set of words- ‘pussy’ sounds less active, ‘dick’, juvenile. Vagina will always be the internal channel to me, penis will be a bit too clinical for exclusive use in the erotic.

If this were a femdom porn, I’d have it locked in a little chastity cage and he’d be eternally between my legs in ‘worship’ with a tongue, when it when  I wasn’t telling him he wasn’t man enough to be inside me because of his size. But it’s not- I like to control how he comes just fine, but I adore more than just forcing him not to. I want him to explore and play with.

So, I cuff him to the bed to keep those long arms out of the way, and toy with him. Fingers make for fun, curled in come-hither teasing under the head of his cock, or wrapped lower down on the shaft to stroke and squeeze like a sheath- I don’t have to grip hard to feel him swell. Slippery, slick lube makes everything slide easy, cold on my palm but quickly warming. Or there’s the trick of pressing the head of a hitachi firmly against the shaft of his cock until it forces a wellspring of white cum from him.

Sometimes I like to lap with the tip of my tongue, along the ridge of his cock head, tasting him, looking for those first few drops of clear pre-cum. Full swollen, he’s almost aggressively thick looking, hard to swallow, but all the more enticing, perhaps because of it. And yet, it really doesn’t matter how slippery I make him, or my own cunt’s gush of anticipation- I know that I’ll feel him.

It’s his particular virtue to be able to get my attention from start to finish. From the first chokepoint, to when my body has milked him past tumescence, I even feel his withdrawal. And it is, to say the least, pleasing.

Other Places To Go Part IV

Happy 2014! With the year showing all sorts of promise, and various other projects on the go- here’s a trio of good links on other people’s blog posts that I thought was worth a gander.

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Kink Abuse takes a look at the fundamentals of writing a good kink dating profile.

Freaksexual wrote an oldie-but-goodie on navigating sexually permissive spaces as a straight or bi man.

Stabbity talks about why “stealth submission” won’t scratch the itch.

Femdom Stories: Birthday Commission

Someone ordered their very own custom story for a birthday gift for a very lucky sub, and kindly gave me permission to re-post the contents here for everyone to enjoy.

She got home with the rustle of plastic shopping bags: groceries for dinner, a white box from the bakery tied with twine, and a bag from the pharmacy that she’d held tight, thinking about what she would do with what’s inside. Her face was kissed to blushing from the cold, frost pinches and winter carried in from the January day, warming while she shucked the layers of her coat and set her boots where they wouldn’t leave the floor speckled with salt drips.


He’d heard her coming in, and came rushing to greet her the way she liked, kept her company while she put the food in the kitchen, the box in the fridge. He read the anticipation on her face, but for him it was too early to do more than guess. He saw how she kept careful track of where the bag from the pharmacy was, glancing at it on the counter, then, when the food was sorted, picking it up again.

“Boy, come here.” Her finger caught his chin, holding him for a moment as a smile twitched the corners of her mouth, catching the curiosity in his eyes. “You need to go prepare your ass. I’ve decided it’s past time I finally… opened you up.”

“Ma’am?” He bit his lip nervously as she took the plain looking box of latex gloves out of the bag.

“Go on, don’t keep standing there.” She pointed at the bathroom for emphasis, “Don’t keep me waiting, there’s a good slut. I want you clean, naked and dry in fifteen minutes. Oh, and bring the towel after.”

To be precise in the timekeeping, it took sixteen and a half minutes, and there was still a bit of trace moisture at the backs of his knees and arms, but he was naked and presenting properly in front of her, kneeling with his legs spread and his arms behind his back in the way she liked. She’d taken a comfortable seat in front of him, the box of gloves open now, and a pair laid out next to the lube. Her hand reached out to cup and squeeze his balls, cradling the entire package with the casualness that belayed her confidence. “There’s a good little bitch. That’s better.”

All the time he had been apart from her in the bathroom, he’d been feeling the building fear. She saw it in the way he pulled his belly in, the tension in his jaw and the bright alertness in his eyes.

“Come on, spit it out Boy, what’s the matter?”

“What are you going to do to me, Mistress?” He couldn’t help himself, calves flexing, standing on tiptoe as her squeezing hand teased and lifted.

“I’m going to fist you, slut. I’m going to open you up wide, stretch you until my entire hand fits in.”

He couldn’t help it, breaking his proper pose and squirming, “But Ma’am…!”

“Boy!” His name became a warning, her tone firm. “You’re going to be a good boy, you’re not going to make me punish you…”

“Mistress,” he whispered, not knowing quite how to bring his thoughts into words. “I…”

“Get on all fours, boy. On the towel. I l know you’re ready.”

He could feel the lingering dampness from the shower in the plush fibres under his knees as he shifted position. A whimper escaped his mouth.

Rather than loom over him, she crouched down, taking hold of his jaw and looking at him sternly. “You will do as you are told.”

Her fingers sought, wrapping around over his mouth, pinching his nose to temporarily cut off his air, holding the breath from him in a way that brought him away from his fear, to a place of calm. After the spent exhalation started to force itself out in whistles, never succeeding in truly breaking the seal of her grip, he felt the brush of her nose tip as she kissed him through her hand, keeping him a moment longer until he thought he couldn’t bear it anymore.

“Again, Mistress? Please!”

She nuzzled up against him, replacing her hands over his mouth and nose again. As she cut off his breath, the world narrowed until there was only two people in it, him and her. The second time she released him, he gasped in big lungfuls of air that didn’t clear away the connection she’d bridged between them. He saw it in her face as well, the concentration on him and the happiness.

She was still smiling as she caressed her hands down his body, moving around him to fondle between his legs and run her palm over his side. Exploring, stroking and teasing, she got him standing from half rampant to fully erect, and then maddeningly let her hands wander away again.

“You like this, don’t you, you little slut? Being my toy?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He moaned, twisting his head to try to follow her. Her hand stroked over his ass, reminding him what she was about to do.

“Stay still, Boy.” The spank left a red imprint after the sharp clap of palm against skin and the sharper sting. He yelped and stiffened. “Remember who is in charge.”

“You Mistress!”

“And what are you?”

“I’m your… your toy Mistress. Your slut.”

Her palm cracked down again eliciting another yelp. When she stroked after, it made him want to press his butt into her hand, feeling the soothing touch. She smirked, watching him wriggle.

“My little slut wants it, I can tell.” She let him watch as she drew the gloves on, clean, smooth and white. The top of the lube bottle popped open with a crisp snap, and she felt the sharp plastic against her thumb and the cold, glossy squirt of lube. She let it sit for a moment, before crooking two fingers and using them to caress the lube into the split of his ass, stroking up from dangling vulnerable scrotum and massaging, teasing the tightness. He was tense, his anus at first rejecting her intrusion even as she coaxed it to accept the lubricant. Cleverly, as she pushed with a finger, her other hand went back to stroking and teasing his cock and soon he’d taken two fingers.

Two fingers became three and she saw the start of his melting resistance. “Look at that. My little whore wants more!”

He could feel her inside him, intimate and stretching. It felt like she was increasing the number of fingers, flexing them, driving them against his prostate and all the while coaxing him closer and closer to coming. And yet, she never let him get there, using it as a wedge to open him.

“Tell me what you are!” She only stopped he assault to gift him with another dollop of lube, confident he was ready to take everything.

“Ahh… I’m your whore! You’re toy! your little bitch!” Now he was riding hack onto her hand, helping impale himself. She felt the tightness on her hand as her knuckles caught, her thumb tucked into her palm and then she was in.

“It’s so big, Mistress.”

“Don’t stop, you little whore!”

“Ma’am!” He groaned, wanting more very badly. But he’d never felt so full before, never so stretched as he rode her curled hand.  “I’m your slut. Your nasty little slut. Oh my god, Mistress! Mistress, can I come?!”


It was her teasing hand on his cock that triggered the point of no return, cum spurting. She felt his ass grip hard, fluttering with convulsions as semen baptized the fingers of her other hand and onto the towel beneath him.

“Come on boy,” Now her other arm was cradling him, letting him come free from her hand, gently. He felt the openess from its parting and craved to replace it with a closeness against her skin.

Seven minutes later, in his second shower, the water sluiced over both of them, his satiated face, her smile. “Was it okay, Mommy?”

“Yes, it was so good. You’re such a good Boy.”

He leaned in close to her, nuzzling her shoulder and then following where the water drops rand down her breasts, until his seeking mouth found her nipple, sucking it. She let her arms wrap around him holding him there for a moment, sighing out, content, reaching to pet his water plastered hair.

She held him that way for several long minutes, before she gently let them out of the water, turning it off to rub a dry towel over his body. He didn’t want to be parted from her, so she kept herself pressed up, her warmth touching his and sharing, as she dried them both.

Gradually, kisses and nuzzling to her breasts became kisses on her ribs and belly until his mouth found her thighs and burrowing, he found the other wetness and another kind of warmth, the lingering a souvenir from her work on and inside his body, and brought her to her own sort of satiation.

Interested in your own femdom stories? Check out your options for custom BDSM & Femdom Erotica!

His Collar, My Needs

For Christmas, I got LadyCobra (a leather worker, among her many talents) to make up a play collar in a rich, dark chocolate brown to add the Wildcard’s Christmas basket. It’s a prototype, as she expands her business, and it was something missing from the toy collection.

Why a collar? D/s involves a lot of purely-in-your head stuff. As much as I generally avoid anything with a whiff of Olde Guarde Leather and don’t like being called Mistress or otherwise dabbling too much into the Sekret And Strikt Tradition of BeeDeeEssEm shtick where there is one right way to be, but it seemed like a really practical tool for what we are trying to do.

Coming together as we did, knowing precious little, other than practically palpable physical chemistry to a degree that sends me mewling about like a cat in heat and our blissfully intellectually compatible brains, we went straight from chaste friendship to trying to figure out everything all at once in a backdrop that wasn’t what I’d describe as conducive to pacing.

Additionally, while Wildcard wasn’t a complete novice, a lot of this is pure theory to him that he wanted to try, and something that, fundamentally speaking, I only had slightly more practical experience to help us figure out what we’re doing.

Add an extra level of self imposed pressure- if he was, fresh from the land of vanilla, immersing himself with me as a guide, I of course allowed myself to get completely wound up about the fact that done wrong it might leave him with the wrong impression about some aspects of kink. Things went in little nibbles, a little impact play, a little rope- nothing big picture. Hell, roll back about six months ago and the poor man was convinced I was some sort of submissive. Whoopsies.

The other challenge for me was a desire to take him to a place, mentally, where I wasn’t sure he was capable of going, as much as he was down to try anything once. He had, at the outset, described himself as “bedroom only”. Realistically, that in itself is a fairly non-descriptive summary, since it means anything from trying to set yourself apart from the people who form their whole lives around their kink identity, to literally confining it to the immediacy of sex.

But in our case it’s not a relationship where I can simply, at any time, pull his hair and drag him to his knees to “force” him to submit to me the way I want. And I had no way of knowing precisely what his psychological construction around this is, even the means of just outright asking. He’s also fairly conservative about talking about his fantasies- I’ve not so stealthily been watching porn with him just to figure out precisely what he’s responding to.

When it comes to collar shopping, when he first got hints that was what I was plotting, he he declared “I reject any and all symbolism!” In the sort of pleased, fighty voice that suggested a certain degree of pleasure that I was going to enforce precisely what he claimed not to want. Of course I could have just gone the Pet Smart route, but the reality was that getting it custom made was one of those Things That Feels Right. It’s a play collar, but it’s got loads of symbolism attached because it’s an attempt to express my feelings. Which of course means lots of awkward fumbling, denial and blushing on my part.

But… it works, thus far.

The collar I mean, not the fumbling and getting a warm face. I mean that with it on, he’s much more focused in the moment and being where I’d like him to be. He shows it in his body language, the way he sits and curls up. Nothing is a panacea, and we’re still experimenting but it is pleasing and very good for my need to dominate.


What Is Dominance, Anyway?

So, I’ve talked before about the gap between expectations for dominants versus the reality of making this work for your personality. We have all done to death theorizing why femdoms appear to be in short supply, what I haven’t talked about as much is trying to describe what it is.

Dominance is a tricky beast to pin down, probably because more than anything else, it’s a feeling. It’s a simultaneous sensation of connection and detachment, usually between two people but one that blossoms under individual specific circumstances. And, unfortunately, it’s not just someone doing what you say; I don’t get a dominant thrill from each and every time I experience someone’s unsolicited compliance or even when someone in my wider life takes my food order or something.

It’s different for many people too: some people like the service aspect, where the person does things for them to make their life more fun. Some people like the obedience aspect- it’s not so much knowing that someone is out to give to you, as knowing they will do what you want, whether it is painting a fence or doing jumping jacks. Some folks like the control aspect, of which I am most into- I like the power trip and making people react. That’s what feeds it for me, regardless of how I do it.

I’m also a sadist, which is commonly paired with dominance, but doesn’t have to be. I like men in distress. I like the whimpering, the big eyes, the cowering and the vulnerability. Other people, for example service oriented doms who just want to be pampered, might find a hurt sub upsetting. And it’s a buffet, not a radio button system, so keep in mind any of my examples might apply in any way and and any level of intensity.

On the other hand, applying theory to real life practice adds an extra level of complexity.

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2013 in Review

Wow, 2013! It’s been one year of serious and regular updating and I can say that it’s been a more than successful experiment: 40K visits, of which 28K of you were unique hits!

When I started OMissPearl, it was just as a repository for my writing, mostly created to deal with the lack of general control and exposure on Fetlife’s “writing” section. Since that time I’ve been proud to participate in a community wide dialogue between kinky folk all around the world, as well as getting some very touching feedback.

Of the course of last year I’ve gone through some pretty major life upheavals as well. In January 2013 I ended a six year relationship, a hard choice but the right one for me. in May 2013 I got a visit from Strong– although the relationship we developed didn’t last, I’ll always remember the place he had in my life fondly- then, for year end I gave things another shot, and you guys have been patiently following along with me developing something new with Wildcard.

Top Content at OMissPearl:

And here’s looking forward to another great year of writing and reading in 2014!