Violated Men: Tales of Female Domination

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without prior written permission from the publisher. For information contact: Pink Flamingo Publications www.pinkflamingo.com P.O. Box 632 Richland, MI 49083 USA Cover Image © Copyright Roman Kasperski www.romankasperski.de Email Comments: comments@pinkflamingo.com Happily Married “Have you ever sucked d**k, Dan?” I didn’t like the question. She knew I had never sucked d**k. “No, Miss Farah.” “Would you suck one for me?” Was that a trick question? Did I have a choice? I was her slave for Christ’s sake. “Yes, Miss Farah,” I answered with dread. “Are you happy that you married me, Daniel?” “Yes, Miss Farah.” “Even though it means you can never have s*x with me again?” “Yes, Miss Farah.” “Even with your thing locked up for months at a time?” I thought about that one. We had been married three months. She let me f**k her on our wedding night and then caged my d**k. It hadn’t been out since. I hated it but she didn’t want to hear that. “Yes, Miss Farah,” I dutifully answered. “I’m so glad, Dan, because I just love our life like this.” I’m sure she did. I was her slave. Right now I was bathing her. Perhaps bathing wasn’t the correct term. She was in the shower and it was my job to wash every part of her. I did the important parts first with my tongue and then with the loofah. She was very particular if my tongue didn’t hit every spot just right. She was very particular about all of my duties, which seemed to grow daily. Still I couldn’t complain. I had agreed to live like this. It was hard but I had her all to myself and that was enough for me. I finished bathing her, helped her out, and dried her off. She sat down on the bed and beckoned to me. I knew what that meant. I knelt between her legs. “Daniel, we need to talk.” The phrase ‘we need to talk’ sent a shiver down my spine. That was the phrase she used just before every single serious life changing moment in our lives had occurred. That was the phrase she had used just before she made me agree to never f**k her…or anyone…or anything else again. “Yes, Miss Farah?” “Daniel, I need sex.” I put my head between her legs and started to lick. She pushed me away. “No, Dan, I mean that I’m a healthy young woman and I need to fuck.” I looked at her with my eyes brimming. I had hoped for this. I had believed that eventually she would realize that she would need me. I moved in and started kissing her neck. She pushed me away again. “Daniel, stop!” she demanded. “That’s not what I meant at all.” I was confused. I looked at her and waited for her to continue. “Daniel, I need a man to f**k me and since you can’t anymore I’m going to get a boyfriend.” “But, Miss Farah, I…” “Dan, you agreed to this.” “I did?” “Yes, you agreed to never make love to me again after our wedding night.” “But, Miss Farah, I thought…” “Oh, you silly,” she laughed, “you didn’t think that meant that I was never going to have s*x again… You did! Oh, Daniel, that’s so sweet but I have needs.” “But what about my needs, Miss Farah?” “Dan, you agreed.” “But I didn’t think that meant a…boyfriend.” “We need to move on in our relationship, Dan,” she said. “I could do that for you, Miss.” “Don’t be silly. With that little dicklet?” “Please, Miss, I…” “Dan, I’m not asking your permission. I’m telling you that I intend to get a boyfriend.” I put my head on her thigh. I had deluded myself into believing that this moment would never come. I had thought that if I kept her happy enough we could stay the way we were. She guided my head to her p***y and habit took over. “Oh, baby,” she purred, “you do that so well. I’ll always want you to do that for me, it’s just sometimes a girl has to have a real man in her. You can understand that, can’t you, baby?” I kept licking but nodded my head. “He won’t get to do any of the things you do for me, baby,” she promised. “I just need a hard d**k sometimes, okay, baby?” I nodded again. “There is one other thing,” she said softly. I lifted my head to look at her but she pushed it back into her crotch. “Don’t stop!” she said urgently. “I’ll tell you in a minute.” I worked my magic. During the three months since we had married she had given me extensive training on how to please her. I used everything. When she was done she kept my head trapped between her thighs. I could smell her. It was one of my favorite times. “You know how much I hate to suck d**k, don’t you, honey?” she asked. It was almost the first thing she had told me when we started going out together. I knew that she had never sucked mine. I nodded. “But real men have needs,” she said, “and I know that my new boyfriend will want his d**k sucked.” I lapped gently at her p***y and waited for her to continue. “I’m going to need you to learn how so that when he wants it you can do it for me,” she stated. I raised my head and looked at her. Surely she was joking, but the whole conversation had started with her asking if I would. She wasn’t joking. “Yes, Miss Farah,” I said despairingly. “I have found someone who has agreed to train you,” she said. “Miss Farah!” “You need to learn how to do it right, Dan,” she said firmly. “I can’t have you embarrassing me.” “Please, Miss Farah.” “Daniel, I don’t want to hear another word!” “Yes, Miss.” “Good. Now dress me because he’ll be here in ten minutes,” she stated. Replacement Slave The painfully searing jolt hit Matthew’s crotch while his mind was busy daydreaming about his old life. It caused him to swerve dangerously into oncoming traffic. He was still 100 miles from home at 3:30 on Sunday afternoon and he was in serious trouble. Thinking the b***h wouldn’t need him today he had made a quick trip to visit his daughter and now he was at least an hour and a half away. Mrs. Watson only allowed him a maximum of one hour from the first shock for him to be in position. Calling and begging wouldn’t do any good, in fact it only made it worse. Increasing his speed as much as he dared, he calculated just how the next hour and a half would play out. At 4:00 pm he would receive another jolt like the first, which, now that he knew it was coming, he could handle without losing control. Then at 4:30 she would increase the intensity to a level that he knew he couldn’t handle while driving, meaning he would have to plan on being stopped for that one. Half an hour later, when he would be close but still not there, she would send another at the same level. After that the intensity would go up again and again in five minute intervals until he was in position or his balls were fried off. Reflecting on his present untenable position he remembered how he got here. It had been one of those days when his s****l needs were rampant, overwhelming his common sense. He had been in a funk to try something different. His fantasies usually ran to being controlled by some beautiful strict woman who wanted a naked man at her feet. Being whipped by her, forced to serve as her maid and used for her s****l pleasure, but only with his mouth. Then being left frustrated until she had him jack off for her amusement. It was a fantasy that he had pleasured himself to many times. That day his body hadn’t been satisfied with pretending, that day his body had been asking for the real thing. The ad in the local s*x contacts newspaper seemed perfect. ‘Domineering SWF seeks sub male for play. Consensual only, no fee. Looking to explore my dominance. Send picture and contact info to Box 302.’ It took a week and countless sessions between his right hand and his d**k until he finally screwed up his nerve to send a letter to the box number in the advertisement. He included a picture, his phone number, and a list of the kind of games he wanted to play. After a week had gone by and he hadn’t heard anything he felt a little disappointment but, after all, the prospect of relinquishing control, even in play, was a scary one, so his disappointment was tempered by a bit of relief. When the phone rang late that Friday he picked it up thinking it was just his venomous ex-wife calling about alimony again with her usual bitchy ranting, so the soft woman’s voice on the other end surprised him. “Hello, Matthew,” the voice said. “Hello, who is this?” Matthew responded. “Let’s just say I’m your new Mistress,” the voice chuckled, “but you may call me Mrs. Watson.” “Pardon me?” Matthew gulped. “You responded to my ad, Matthew, remember?” the woman said softly. “Um, yes I, um…” he stuttered. “Matthew, do you want to play some games with me?” she whispered. “Do you want to serve me, maybe have to bathe me and pamper me, lick me, maybe have me whip you a little and force you to masturbate for me?” Matthew’s mind had gone into a haze of s****l ecstasy by the third word and any rational reasoning had left him. The woman was relating every one of the triggers that got his blood pumping, that excited him and made him hard and needy for relief. He could only stammer his acceptance. Yes, yes, yes, that is exactly what he wanted and he couldn’t agree fast enough when she suggested a place to meet. “I’ve rented room 110 at the Flying J, Matthew,” she declared. “You will be there in one hour. Do you understand? One part of Matthew’s brain held the niggling thought that things might be proceeding a bit fast, but the part of his anatomy that was in control overrode this stupid and non-productive thinking. “Yes, Miss…I mean yes, Mrs. Watson, I do,” he babbled. “How will I know you, I mean where will you be?” Speaking as if she hadn’t heard his question she continued, “When you enter the room I want you to strip off all of your clothes, lay on the bed and attach the cuffs you will see on the four corners first to your legs and then to your hands and then wait for me, do you understand?” “But…but…I mean what happens if you don’t come?” he whined. “Matthew, we are going to have to work on your obedience and the proper way to address me,” she said firmly, “now, do you want to play with me or not?” “Yes, Mrs. Watson,” he answered contritely. “Good, one hour,” she reiterated. “Yes, Mrs. Watson.” “Oh, and one more thing,” she laughed. “Yes, Mrs. Watson?” “Do not touch that little worm between your legs, do not masturbate before you arrive, are we clear on this?” she said with a hint of temper in her voice. “Oh god, oh god, okay, I mean I promise I won’t, Mrs. Watson,” he stammered into a now dead phone. What little bit of common sense that might have remained in his head was completely overshadowed by the burgeoning s****l fog that had enveloped his very being. This was it! This was exactly the fantasy that he had dreamed of and now he was going to have it! The Flying J was only about five minutes from his house, leaving him nothing to do for the next fifty-five minutes but let his mind revolve around the endless possibilities of s****l fulfillment that awaited him. His d**k got painfully hard, begging out for a hand of relief but he kept away from that, remembering the tinge of fury that he heard in her voice at the end of their conversation. He busied himself with mundane cleanup tasks around the house, glancing at the clock every few minutes and willing it to move faster. When the clock showed that he still had ten minutes left he could contain himself no longer and bolted for the motel. Room 110 at the Flying J was located on the back corner of the dirt parking lot of the hotel, secluded from the view of the office and most of the other rooms. There were no other cars in the lot at all when he parked his car in front of the door five minutes early and the thought occurred to him that this might just be an elaborate hoax, but he stepped to the door and knocked anyway. When no one answered his knock he cautiously tried the knob and, finding the door unlocked, stepped into the room. Room 110 was exactly like thousands of motel rooms anywhere. It had a small table by the door with two chairs, a king-sized bed with nightstand and a clock, and in the back, a bathroom with sink, tub and toilet. The major article of difference between this room and the countless others he had been in was that each of the four corner posts of the bed had steel handcuffs attached to them with one cuff left open.