F/m

Female on male dominance.

Catamite Pt. 5

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There was a steaming bath tub, almost large enough to swim in, flanked by decorative marble swans and an enormous urn holding an overflowing bunch of lilies. He slowly eased into the water, his first bath in a month, nervous even to be hesitating at one of Annette’s orders, though she seemed unruffled. She was rolling up the sleeves of her navy blouse, up to her forearms, smiling her small smile. He saw that as she periodically did her hair colour had changed, though this time only a few tendrils of green and chocolate brown escaped the neat confines of a charcoal grey and black scarf.

Hot water soaking in, he didn’t resist as she took his head in her hands, gently sloshing water over his scalp. He felt her palm laden with something cool and viscous, a shampoo that she worked into the short regrowth of his hair. She soaped and rinsed him, using a rough white wash cloth to scrub his shoulders and down his back and belly, massaging and rubbing.

At her instruction he stood up, and she did the same to his buttocks and legs, turning him so she could reach. Splashes of water stained the front of her dress, turning the indigo darker in splotch patterns over her breasts. She left his crotch alone, but the washcloth found its way into the split between his buttocks before Annette told him to sit down again.

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Little Submissions

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There is someone out there, throwing up his stories onto his blog all for free, writing my sexuality, my approach to things, all exactly how I want them to be.

Little Submissions

I wish someone with a camera and a couple of nice models would take the time to recreate half the  scenes he delivers up. I wish more porn had that loving eye for detail, that level of talent and the right sort of connection. It’s not the usual lump of over ripe male flesh served up on a platter of snarling ineffectual pro-tops, selling the fantasy of them and their corsets and untouchability, while daintily trying to tread around the unfortunate presence of their victim. It’s female doms who fuck, but not out of contractual obligation, it’s pain, but pain expressed so good I get the same sadist empathy shivers just from reading.

I wish I could pick out my favourites, but there’s so many I’d have to list half his catalogue. He just throws them up without a second thought, as if it were nothing special to be tossing off weekly little projects, no cross referencing or tagging either. But just for an example, try this one, Eye Candy. Note the way he makes the act of dressing up seem very real and human, and manages to build up the eroticism from the imperfections and lapses inherent in real life. Or this inventive creation that manages to make filling your bathtub with dirt seem like a good idea. Or this one, still something I think about, which matches scene realism and romanticism with rather a lot of pain, Every Square Inch.

 

 

Catamite Pt.3

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Groin tingling and oddly insensitive from the pain killers, but still distantly aware of the wrongness, Phillip knelt with his forehead pressed to the cool, rough but clean cement floor wearing nothing but a medical scrotal support. The doctor had long since left, leaving pills and instructions for Annette and not even a backwards glance for his patient.

He would have rather defied his captor, and the weight of Annette’s foot on the back of his neck was light enough he could have shrugged her off, but she was backed up by her ever present bodyguards, and a long prod she held in her right hand. She’d shown him how it worked once, on a lower setting, pain of the shock still leaving a hard cramp in his calf.

Maybe if he could catch her off guard, he thought, he could take the prod from her and hold it to her neck, or maybe find some weapon and force her guards to back down.  So he listened, quietly as she spoke, hating and waiting, listening more for the pauses not the meaning of her words.

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Catamite Pt.2

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They’d given him a prison jumpsuit again, one piece washed out grey, and the bag went back on his head.  Now his hands were cuffed with heavier transport irons, as was his legs. His balls ached.  He guessed, as they moved him, that he went up an elevator out of the jail, with a guard holding each of his arms.

The car they fed him into sat low, with large comfortable leather seats, suggesting the long body and comforts of a limousine. He could hear Annette talking to the guard on either side of him as they handed him into the car. Once inside another male arm clamped onto one of his. He guessed it was a man servant or a bodyguard by the gloves on his hands. The car door slammed shut.

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Quick N’ Dirty Kink Guide for Sub Men

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Introduction

For one reason or another, you think you might be a guy interested in kink and you started with the idea of being a “submissive”. You’re new and a lot of the terminology is unfamiliar- maybe you played about a bit with a partner or maybe the only place you’ve encountered it is pornography or your fantasies. Since you’re reading this, I gather you’re interested in the subject of male submission.

In any case this guide is written to be a no nonsense user friendly introduction to the subject. An earlier version exists on HubPages, but I’d rather host my work myself. so, read on…

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Wax & Water

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A short story with D/s.

She put her thumbnail behind his ear and began to press hard, into the fold where it joined his skin, pinching and pulling as her nail dug in and scratched. It was a hidden spot, one of her favourites, where she could slash and scratch and nobody would be the wiser.

“Come on,” she barked, at his distressed, sleepy face. “Hurry up!”

Leading him off the bed, she yanked in the direction of the closet, with him stumbling after, his long limbs never meant for a journey on all fours. She made him kneel and open his mouth, wrenched the closet open and grabbed the large cardboard box, with the marker scrawl ‘Toys’.

“I don’t want the neighbours to hear.”

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