The Enchantress #20 and #21

The Enchantress #20 to 21

As of today, tumblr.com has made the bone headed decision to block all access to NSFW blogs on its website. It's become more important to find and record the content on my blog. Starting with the most popular and extensive series that was on the site.

*** *** ***

The Enchantress #20

Hero: Ha Ha Ha! I am the one who contaminated your wells, people of Dono! 

Angry Mob: It was you? Not those bastards from Nellorville?

Hero: That’s just what I wanted you to believe! And you fools fell for it! You blamed some stupid Nellorville gangsters for My crime!

Angry Mob: Get him!

Hero: Bwa ha ha! You think you can catch me! See you all later, fools!

The Hero leapt from rooftop to rooftop, easily escaping from the mob of angry villagers. Later, he met up with the Nellorville elders.

Elder man: It is a horrible day. Not only did one of our own commit such a heinous crime, nearly destroying our relationship with our neighbor village and causing a war, but you, the man who killed him, must take the blame.

Hero: But this way I can at least prevent any more death. I assume they’ll have my name in wanted pictures from now on?

Elder woman: Indeed. News will spread. Beware, hero. You will not be able to trek anywhere in this entire country without being hunted.

Hero: It’s alright. That’s actually true of many places in this world. I’ll make my leave now-!

Suddenly there was a thunderous zap. A cloud of magic rose in the distance.

Elder woman: That came from Dono! What is going on? 

Hero: I’ll check! 

The Hero ran toward the borders of Dono. There he saw, standing in the middle of a mob that must have been made up of the entire village’s population, was the enchantress.

Enchantress: I WILL NOT ALLOW THAT FOOL TO TAKE THE CREDIT FOR MY DEEDS ANY LONGER!

Mob: Who are you?

Enchantress: I am the enchantress! I am the TRUE poisoner of your town! 

Villager #1: We don’t believe you! 

Villager #2: Yeah! Someone already admit to that!

Enchantress: That man was just a puppet! A poor victim hypnotized by my magic to do my bidding! And as proof…BEHOLD!

With a point of her finger a cloud covered the village. Like a projector, the cloud showed a vision…an vision of the hero lying naked on the Enchantress’s bed as she played with his body erotically. An image of the hero trying to escape as she rhythmically squeezed his male member…An image of him being hypnotized by her glowing eyes…an image of him doing her bidding with a blank expression…

Villager #3: Enough! We believe you! Ugh!

Villager #4: You depraved bitch! YOU CONTAMINATED OUR WATER!

Enchantress: Indeed! Oh ho, indeed! And if I see you giving credit for that to anyone else, I will do much more than that!

With that, she disappeared into smoke. As the Dono villagers scrambled to find her the hero walked away. He covered his face, more embarrassed and humiliated than afraid of being found.

(I don't remember the details of why I wrote this particular story, but I don't really like it all that much, for several reasons. It uses actual names instead of titles, for one thing. It will be established later on as a rule that most people and even whole kingdoms use "titles" like "Blacksmith" or "Village of White Sand" instead of names like "Greg" or "Kakariko Village."

Also, the situation is too convoluted. What's going on is that somebody from a village poisoned the water supply in a neighboring village in an act of terrorism. This could potentially cause the two villages to go to war. So instead the hero volunteers to be a scapegoat to keep the peace, which is apparently something he's already done. 

But then the enchantress, in turn, takes the blame from the hero in the most humiliating way she can possibly do so. This is an act of goodwill from her that hasn't been seen yet in the series at this point.

The enchantress will eventually become a more nuanced character in her own right, but I think this particular act of goodwill in the hero's favor is too out of character so early on.)

The Enchantress #21

Barbarian Lady: So I try using the poison on the ogre, right? Not only was she immune to the poison, she loved how it tasted so much she thought I was bribing her! We end up storming the castle together and, long story short, now she's my wife!

Bar goers: *Laughter*

Barbarian: Nothing like true love, eh, fellers and fellerettes?

Hero, raising a glass: To TRUE LOVE!

*His fellow bar buddies, a bunch of adventurers and rough-looking folk, agree heartily and down their drinks*

Mercenary: I met my wife in a rival camp. I tried a wrestling hold but she thought I were trying to lift her bridal style. I tried hitting her, and she thought I were hitting ON her! I explain that "no, I'm an enemy soldier" and she says "oh..." And them she knocks me out cold with one punch! She ends up bringing me to their leader and they offer me more money than my old employer!

Bar goers: *Howling with laughter*

Mercenary: I don't even know why they bothered! I couldn't even take out the lady! But yeah, she and I got along well from them on! The wedding was two weeks after all that!

Barbarian Lady: Oh man! Anyone else with a knee slapper? Hope about our youngest friend? Hope about that marriage, eh?

Hero: . . . What marriage?

Mercenary: It's no secret, my man! Even me and the mistress got an invitation! See?

Hero: *Reads invitation* Come see the union of the century... World's most powerful woman will marry cute swordsman... The only marriage where the bride literally rides the groom to the alter...With The Rock n' Roll Sirens playing reception??? What in the Goddess's Ass is this???

Barbarian: Rock n' Roll Sirens is no joke. The Enchantress has called in a lot of favors...

Mercenary: There's even a picture of her giving you a ring.

Hero: That's a cursed ring and she's clearly forcing it on my finger! It turned me into a tadpole for a week! I ate, like, twenty pounds of seaweed!

Barbarian Lady: There's a copy of the marriage form you two signed.

Hero: That was originally a truce pact! We signed it months ago and I hadn't heard from her since!

Mercenary: Clearly she's been busy.

Hero: Well fuck this. I'm leaving the continent until this all blows over. (Hmm, I wonder if the Olympia kingdom needs a hero.)

Barbarian: Hey, I don't know why you're so opposed to marrying one of the world's strongest human female. But if you don't want to marry you, you should probably leave soon. It's gonna be her mating season soon and she's gonna be hunting for you.

Hero: Enchantresses have mating seasons? Like animals do?

Barbarian Lady: Yep.

Mercenary: Oh yeah

Barbarian: Heh heh heh...best time of the year to be single.

Mercenary: In fact, I think it's already started. What are you gonna...hero?

*Everyone looks at the hero's empty stool. The tavern door is swung open*

Barbarian Lady: ...So when she catches him we're still going to the wedding, right? Because the sirens are a rare treat and I don't want to give up the chance to hear them perform live...

Mercenary: I'm not missing that disaster of a wedding. You think they'll even get to the vows?


Barbarian: Best love story of them all, I say.

(Even if it's antiquated, I really like this old story. It's a set up I only touch upon a few times later: the hero surrounded by a bunch of fellow rough travelers. Semi-noble thieves, mercenaries, barbarians, Conan the Barbarian type folk, and just enjoying himself. 

Later on, as the hero's circle of friends starts to solidify, he's not usually seen with these people again but I never forgot about them. 

Also, I headcanon that, seeing as this story is set too early in the series, that the enchantress wasn't serious about trying to marry the hero. She will later develop genuine feelings for him, but for now he's still an amusing plaything that she finds endearing. This was all to get on his nerves.)

Cammy

Cammy

I originally wrote three wildly different versions of this story, all within one night. I won't say the final product was vastly disappointing compared to the theme I had in mind, but I wasn't so proud of this when I first published it on Tumblr. But it's become popular enough and many have commented on this so I started seeing the merits of it. 

___

Cammy Bo was shorter than you, but it always felt like she loomed over you. The rest of the school saw her as a nerdy, soft, and cute as hell asian girl who just happened to be a bit of a science class fanatic. She was one of the adorable, beloved cuties of the school.

But you knew better. One day, in your freshman year, you had been walking with her along with other students. You were part of a group project that she was a part of and had only been following along to take notes and the like. Cammy was respectful to you, as well as all of the others, but didn’t seem all that interested in being anything other than group partners.

But when the others walked away and you and Cammy was alone she looked you up and down. You and Cammy had barely known each other back then… But she was already quite popular while you were, well, not. She smiled playfully at you.

All the while grabbing you and slamming you, not too painfully but rather roughly, into the lockers. Shocked and surprised, you hadn't realized what was happening before she held your hand behind your back in an inescapable hold.

You weren’t a bodybuilder or anything, but you weren’t weak either. And yet she had you pressed and in her power.

“Cammy? Wh-what are you doing?” You had said. Whimpered, even.

Cammy just giggled, you remember.

“You’re not strong at all, are you?” she had told you. Her tone was casual, as though it were a friendly chat.

Luckily the halls had been empty at that point so no one was around to mock you. It would have been humiliating, being held down by such a cute, innocent girl. On the other hand, there was no one to save you from Cammy…

She pulled you back and let go. You tried to take the chance to fight back against her, but she tripped you. She grasped your hand and held tight with an unexpectedly powerful grip strength. She pulled you into another inescapable hold while humming.

“You really can’t get out of these, can you? I could make you do anything…”

“N-no…”

“Don’t deny it, silly! You’re too weak to resist me, so don’t bother.”

You squirmed and squirmed, trying to break her hold. It was fruitless, as she said. She tightened the hold on you, causing you to stop. A warning.

“I’ve been waiting for this, you know. I needed someone weaker than me to enslave, but I could never find the right opportunity. I’m doing this to you because we’re alone. This opportunity to put you in your place might never come again. Don’t fight. Make this easy on yourself and just submit…”

She tightened the hold even further, just for one painful second. You winced.

“Say you’re my bitch!”

“O-okay! Okay, please… I’m your bitch!” you said. Your compliance must have amused her, because gave a laugh heartier than her normal, cute little giggle.

“Man, you’re weak! I’m just kidding, obviously. Though… I will probably make you give me your notes for classes when I’m feeling too lazy.”

Her hand drifted close to your crotch at this. You remember, to this day, a mix of fear, shock, and excitement this elicited in you. You’re not sure if this was even intentional, but you would never forget the feeling. Then she pushed you down and stood over you.

“I’m sure we’ll be great friends!”

*** *** ***

After that moment Cammy, against your will, became one of your best friends in High School. Though you tried to avoid her she would grab your hand and lead you around. With her grip strength, one squeeze was enough to scare away any resistance from you. She always found you during lunch and between classes.

She even came to your house early in the mornings to pick you up for school. Sometimes, whenever it pleased her, it seemed, she would look for you even on weekends. When she got her license in junior year it became a lot easier for her to find you wherever you were in town.

It was a bizarre experience, being Cammy’s “friend.” In the presence of teachers, fellow students, and even your own family you were just that. One of her friends. She was nice to you. She shared lunches with you, and even gossiped about other students. She invited you to hang out (these invitations were mandatory, though no one else knew that) and even saw movies with you. She even helped you with your school work. You sometimes got the impression that you really were friends.

But when you two were alone, she was unpredictable. She could be kind, or she could be cruel. She could demand anything of you, from study notes to demanding your virginity (Okay, she never did that, but she did joke about it once…). And she never lost her kind, cute way of speaking, even while wrestling you to the ground.

Cammy liked to get physical with you. She never hurt you, though it wasn’t as though she had ever promised she wouldn’t. She would wrestle you down and force you to feel utterly helpless in her grasp. All while speaking to you in that casual, sometimes even endearing voice.

“Did you eat breakfast? You’re even weaker than usual today.”

“See, this is why you need to be reminded who’s in charge! If I didn’t humble you every so often you might get a big head, and then who would get you out of trouble?”

“Anyway, I’m going to sit on you until you agree to watch a movie with me and the other girls this weekend. I’m not letting you miss it!”

She played these moments off as playful teasing, but to you they were a fearful reminder of your role. She gripped you firmly in life, just as she did so to your body while wrestling.

She was your bully. She was your tormentor. And to make your situation worse, you were becoming more and more attracted to her…

*** *** ***

“I’m going to shove you in my locker one day,” she whispered to you one day. She winked at you and then walked away.

That was during your sophomore year of high school. It was just the latest of Cammy’s playful threats, but it stuck with you for some reason. It made your imagination run wild, and you couldn’t find a way to forget it.

This was the beginning of your perverse dreaming of Cammy.

*** *** ***

You dreamed of Cammy bullying you. In your dreams she was worse than in real life. She was much more violent, demeaning, and you enjoyed it so much…

In real life Cammy wrestled you, but she avoided touching you too perversely… But in the dream land Cammy was merciless. Dream Cammy laughed and giggled while holding you down and playing with your crotch with her fingers. Or stripped you down and sat on your face. Dream Cammy loomed over you even though in reality she was slightly shorter than you.

In real life Cammy would tease you for your crushes. In your dreams Cammy would mock you, and then ask out your crush right in front of you. Then she would force you to go with them on dates and watch her seduce your crush right in front of your eyes.

In real life Cammy joked about putting you in her locker. You had a special, reoccuring dream about that…

*** *** ***

It was not just when you were sleeping that “dream Cammy” haunted you. Even seemingly innocent things Cammy did began to haunt you at times.

“I like keeping you around,” she would say to you. You would imagine her “keeping” you, taking you to her house, kidnapping you… This was extreme, even for a bully like Cammy, but that fantasy kept you warm at night.

“You have such nice handwriting,” she once said, and you imagined a flirtatious tone in her voice.

And you never did forget about that thing she said once, about stuffing you into her locker…

*** *** ***

In your dreams Cammy pulls you to her locker. She’s giggling as you squirm, unable to escape her grasp. She opens her locker. You gasp.

Inside is a modified room, just big enough to encase you. It’s soft, with little fuzzy wrist clamps to hold you still. There are little machines alongside the wall of the locker. Dream Cammy laughs and explains to you how she made it…

“I modified the inside of my locker to become your permanent pen. The walls are soundproof so no one will hear your struggling, and covered in little gadgets to monitor you. If you struggle, no one will hear you! If you try anything I’ll see you! You’ll be my personal slave forever!”

You shriek in fear and beg, “Please! Don’t stuff me in there, Cammy! Why would you do this?”

She laughs and picks you up. You squirm but can’t stop her. She puts you in her locker. She snaps the wrist straps, holding you firm. She teases your body with her pretty little hands, pinching and

“Because you’re mine, silly.”

Then she closes the door while giggling, sealing you in.

It’s dark in there. Sometimes you wake up. Other times… Cammy comes back. She opens the door. While you’re strapped down and unable to move she puts her hands all over you, touching and stroking every part of you. She strips you and presses her soft body upon you…

In your dreams, sometimes Cammy Bo rapes you.

*** *** ***

One day you walked up to her. She was waiting for you in her car, ready to drive you home. She smiled when she saw you. Her beautiful smile… You entered onto the passenger seat, not saying a word. You kept your gaze down.

“Hey! Want to study in your room again? I know your folks aren’t home, though, so I understand if you don’t want to…”

You looked up. She was smiling at you. Your imagination told you so many stories… But in real life, you couldn’t even tell if she even saw you as a friend…

“Cammy?” you said, tensing yourself up and trying to will yourself to speak.

“Yes?”

She was looking you right in the eyes. This cute, smart, sadistic, woman…

“Wh-why do you bully me?”

Cammy frowned. She put a hand on your lap, making you flinch. She leaned close to you…

“Do you like it?” she whispered. She was smiling, an evil look in her eyes. “If you tell me you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

“R-really?” you said. She nodded.

“If you tell me to stop, I will. No more wrestling you down. No more dragging you around. No more embarrassing you. No more playful threats about stealing your lunch money, and stuff like that.”

“No more telling me you’ll shove me in my locker?” you said.

“My locker. It was my locker I told you I would put you in,” she corrected.

You looked Cammy in the eyes. She smirked, as though she believed she knew exactly what you wanted to say…

“Please…”

“Please what?” she encouraged.

“Please… never let me go…” you said.

You were so embarrassed, and so disappointed in yourself. But that was that. Cammy nodded, approvingly.

“I am so putting you in my locker one day. Now come on. To your house. Alone. With no one to help you if I get a little… naughty…”

Your heart beat wildly as she started the car, ready to take you away.

A Dominant Boyfriend

A Story of a Boyfriend Used to Dominating in Bed (Femdom)

His girlfriend was a cute little thing. There was no other way to describe her. She was shorter than he was, and had the sweetest smile framed between her long hair. His precious, petite woman.

He loved the way she tried to hide her exhaustion when she came home from her job, but melted into groans of relief when he massaged it out of her. Then she would complain about all of it, tired but slowly smiling as she vented. How could a woman be so cute even as she griped of her cubicle neighbors and absentminded boss?

He loved the way she skipped when no one but he was watching in grocery stores, and when he mentioned that she was probably caught on security camera she blushed into her hands.

He loved how she giggled, gasped softly at cute things and loudly at genuinely shocking things. How she adored cutesy things and was easily embarassed to admit loving said cute things.

He had the cutest girlfriend in the world.

And he longed to break her in bed one day. Not roughly, and definitely not to hurt her. He wanted to love her so well and expertly, and so powerfully, it ruined her.

***

She sat on their bed, already nude when he got home. His surprise and smile must have amused her because she gave her soft little giggle. But however funny he might have looked could not have matched her priceless expression when he stripped down.

He was a big man. A strong man as well. Toned and large from years of American football and exercise. She turned beet red at his muscles.

He approached her and looked down. Sitting on the bed she barely came up to his chest.

“Dear,” she muttered and touched his body. She felt his muscles and sighed.

He was ready to break her so.

“Lie down,” he said. She did so. Her petite body was so small, covering very little of their queen sized bed.

He began phase one of his plan to break her. First he bent down to kiss her. Her soft lips and smaller tongue. She grasped his head as they made out, tongue nimble and equal footing with his. She was no novice in kisses, he admitted.

He drifted downward, enjoying her little neck, chest, lingering a bit between her breasts that he gently fondled in his large hands. He went down… and skipped over her crotch in favor of her thighs. She pouted for a second, but he knew she would forgive him.

Right… now.

She gasped as he approached her vaginal lips, gently tasting her. He didn’t stop until he felt her loosen, and then advanced. He wanted to break her, not hurt her after all.

He explored the inner of her, experienced and very generous. He felt confident he could break her with his lips and tongue alone…

She tapped his head, and he stopped. He was surprised at her expression. Blushing and obviously enjoying all of what he was offering… but winking and smug.

“Enough, love,” she said.

*** *** ***

She had her legs wide open and wrapped around him. She swallowed nervously at his dick’s girth and length. He smiled.

“If you’re having second thoughts…” he whispered.

“Fuck me,” she whispered back. She smiled. “As roughly as you like.”

He chuckled at her bold words, but definitely would not be doing so. He entered her slowly.

She had been loosened and wet from his masterful tonguework, but still felt amazing around him. As he felt her pussy down and down his cock and heard her small whimpers he smiled.

Then he began to hump. Slowly, but firm. After all, she was daring him like such a naughty girl. He would show her.

His thrusts elicited only slightly louder moans… He felt her wrapped around him and each thrust was amazing.

He bit his lips. Admittedly, he hadn’t felt so embarrassingly close to cumming so quickly since his first time…

His cute little girlfriend was holding on so well. She moaned as he thrusted firmer and firmer, quicker and quicker, but not getting much louder. He grew a little frustrated.

Worse yet, he felt himself about to cum all too early… He slowed down. She smiled smugly.

“What’s wrong?” she said, daring him once again. He picked up the pace, redoubling his efforts.

He thrusted his hips faster, his entire dick entering her each time now. She squealed in delight, but… but wasn’t breaking. He was beginning to sweat.

She was so small, so cute. He wanted to make her moan. He wanted her to scream with passion. Just like his one night stands and exes before her.

After three minutes he was close, but he could see she was too. She had began gasping louder and louder, almost shouting. She would cum before him!

But suddenly, he felt her tighten around him. Each time he thrusted, at just the right moment, he felt her tighten. It was amazing. It was so shockingly effectively.

She came, but not before him. In just three thrusts and three squeezes he had to pull out, cumming all over her torso and crying aloud alongside her…

*** *** ***

“What’s wrong, love?” she said, seeing him disappointed in himself.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. She frowned. Then she smiled.

“Are you upset?” she whispered. “Upset that I made you cum first?”

She giggled and laid down. She shook her head at his foolishness. This mad him just mad enough. The right amount of frustration. He would show her.

After a few minutes of rest he grasped her shoulder and whispered. “Again?”

*** ***

He was in her again. Having cum once already, he was readier for a longer time.

His thrusts were hard, now knowing she could take more than she let on. She seemed to enjoy how rough he was being, crying out louder with a big smile on her cute little face. She clung to his sides, unable to reach his shoulders, and matched his rhythm perfectly.

Now he added small circles to his thrusts, keeping the rhythm but not necessarily the form. Consistent rhythm, but hitting different spots, different nerves, keeping on her toes. She was getting closer and closer to orgasm, much faster this time. He had her now!

She was going to break. He would fuck her so hard she would cry out. She wouldn’t dare ask to stop, but it would be just on the cusp of what she could handle…

Suddenly, her legs wrapped around his hips held harder. She began matching his rhythm, humping him as hard as he was her. He felt the pressure build so quickly…

He cried out just before her. He didn’t pull out this time, and she humped him to orgasm. Another near simultaneous orgasm. Another tie.

*** ***

Now she was on top. He stared at her with a slight tremble. Her smug smile, and hungry expression.

“Let me show you how it’s done,” she whispered. He swallowed, intimidated. He nodded.

She took him in her, the third time that night. She began mercifully slow. She squeezed him within her all the way down to his shaft.

She began to bounce and he loved it. She grasped at his chest with her nails and it hurt, but he didn’t mind at all. It added to her power over him.

She knew where to touch and when. She knew the best rhythm. She had such power.

He thrusted in sync with her bounce and she returned fire in turn. She squeezed him within her with such thorough knowledge of what worked for him.

He began to cry out as she giggled. She teased and teased and squeezed and squeezed, and didn’t let up.

And they both cried out as he came, and she came soon after.


He was wrecked and ragged and she stayed atop him, lying down on him to rest. He was broken and under her, where he belonged.

Personality (Sass and Bully Fetish)

Personality

This story was written years ago while I was mulling over the memory of a prank a friend of mine pulled back in Middle School. The victim was a haughty and very snobbish girl. (Don't worry, I aged everyone up to eighteen, though nowadays I don't think even that is old enough to be non-cringey. Nevertheless, I'm posting this story in its original form.)

I regretted participating and laughing at the poor (admittedly rude) girl. I also have a theory on the reason I disliked her so much and she infuriated me so at the time and wanted to explore these ideas now that I understand myself a little more. 

*** *** ***

Contains: Femdom, Forced Orgasm, Seduction, Female Bully, Molestation, and other such themes. The characters are of-age, though the setting is a High School.


Sass-fetish. Sassy people irked me when I was young, though I couldn’t for the life of me understand why until I was older.

Kelei had plenty of friends in the school. It wasn’t as if her personality was a complete repellent, she obviously gathered a group of girls who enjoyed her company. But that meant nothing to Jack, the boy who sat next to her in homeroom and was the receiver of a lot of her sass and arrogance. If anything, the fact that so many girls seemed to stomach and even enjoy her company despite her sass and misplaced (according to Jack, that is) confidence irked him all the more.

Kelei was black and rather round. She wasn’t tall at all, shorter than Jack by half an inch in fact, but her large body made her seem taller than she was. Kelei was confident about her attractiveness, a fact that many of the boys and some of the girls in the class found comical. And she wasn’t just confident about her looks, but everything about herself. She performed adequately in most classes, barring gym in which she was the slowest and least athletic of them all. 

Despite this the athletic women and the smart women all seemed to like her. She was rude to most people who weren’t her friends, from teachers to fellow students, but those she did call friends she was merely casually sassy to.

Jack himself didn’t particularly hold much regard to authority figures, but as someone who didn’t go out of his way to irk them he found himself annoyed at Kelei. She talked to teachers as if she already knew how the world worked, and that the universe revolved around herself. And though it sometimes bit her in the ass, that never did anything to lower her smugness.

Jack was tired of being talked down to by this girl. He was tired of hearing her sassy answers to teacher’s scolding her, tired of her going on and on about her supposed “sexcapades” and social life. He was tired of her making fun of him for his apparent lack of interest in “partying” and having a girlfriend. Most of all, Jack was tired of Kelei’s utter confidence. Just once he wanted that confidence to waver. Jack wanted to see her taken down a peg.

That was why, when no one was looking, he took the chair Kelei was going to sit on and sabotaged it. The metal legs were old and with a bit of squeezing from a tool Jack stole from shop class he managed to severely weaken one of them.

Though Kelei believed herself some kind of goddess who turned heads wherever she went, and her friends never did anything to disabuse her of that notion, the rest of the class thought of her as a overweight girl. And, Jack thought, it was time for her to realize that herself.

The last homeroom class of the day began. Jack sat down and stared away from Kelei. The class was settling itself and the professor was preparing the lesson on the chalkboard when Kelei sat.

The metal foot bent as soon as her ass touched the seat. There was a creak and a snap as Kelei broke the chair. Jack watched, keeping the joy out of his expression and hoping to match the shocked expression everyone else had. Kelei was on the floor, shocked.

Big Kelei’s seat couldn’t handle her own weight! was what Jack knew everybody was thinking.

The classroom, including a few of her own friends, burst into shocked laughter. The professor ran to try and help. Jack bubbled inside, never having felt such schadenfreude before. And Kelei just looked dumbfounded as the teacher helped her up.

And when the class eventually calmed down there were whispers abound. Jack knew they were all talking about the prank. And best of all, Kelei remained quiet throughout the whole class. It was perfect…

…Almost…

Once Jack risked a peak at Kelei and his heart nearly skipped a beat. Kelei was looking right at him, her eyes narrow. As though she knew…

*****

“You! Follow me,” Kelei said to Jack in front of his locker, her hands on her hips.

“Huh?” 

The hall was filled with people, but a few of Jack’s locker neighbors were listening in on the exchange.

“I said you’re going to come with me. Now.” she said, matter-of-factly. Jack swallowed, trying to look more confident than he felt.

“Hell no, I’m not following you. Get real,” he said.

“Cut the crap. You know you’re going to follow me, anyway. Quit acting tough and innocent,” was her response. She grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

Jack followed, stunned. It was her utter confidence and assertiveness that was keeping him stuck to her whim, not just any strength of her own. All around him there were eyes on the two of them. People were noticing.

Without warning Kelei pushed jack into the girl’s washroom and locked it behind her. She pushed him against a tiled wall and stared him down. He drooped a lttle under her gaze, shrinking back.

“You did it, didn’t you?” she said.

“N-no!” Jack said.

“Liar. I know you have it in for me, Jack. You’ve been jealous of me since the beginning of the fucking year.”

“Jealous? Of you? As if!” Jack said. 

“Why wouldn’t you be? I’m better than you in every way,” she said.

Jack scoffed and was about to rebuff her, but she spoke over him.

“I have more friends than you ever had. I have the looks, the charm, and most importantly, I have power,” a smirk rose on her face. Jack found he couldn’t deny what she said, even though logically he should have. She DID have more friends than he did. And though he didn’t think for a moment that she had “the looks” like she believed he knew there was no way to convince her otherwise (and for some reason her smug expression looming over him was as attractive as it was irksome).

“P-please! You’re nothing but some girl with an attitude problem. The bitch of the class!” Jack said.

Kelei raised a fist, as though to strike him. Jack flinched back. Kelei laughed at his cowardice and stepped closer to him.

“You call it rude. I call it strength!” she said. She stepped even closer to him, forcing Jack to shrink down further. He was shaking in fear now, the girl in front of him smirking down at him, like a predator about to play with her prey.

“G-get away,” Jack said, finally finding the energy to try and get away. But as he tried to stand up straight, Kelei grasped his wrists and forced him back down. She licked her lips and whispered.

“You like me,” she said, a hot whisper full of something that made Jack, to his horror, incredibly aroused.

“N-no!” he said. She forced her body closer to his.

“Everything you hate about me… it makes you want me.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. Kelei pressed herself unto Jack. Her great big breasts flattened against him. Jack’s erection poked against his jeans. Kelei, smiling victoriously, slowly pressed her crotch against his despite his futile struggling to prevent it.

“NoOH God!” Jack said as she gave him a quick, soft, dry hump. She could feel his arousal, there was no way she couldn’t.

“You can’t deny me anymore, idiot,” she said. “I’ve got more power over you than you will ever have over yourself.”

She didn’t move, simply chuckling at Jack’s struggling. He tried and tried, but his every squirm rubbed those breasts of hers along his chest. They squished up firm against his body, cleavage raising out from the collar of her tight shirt. 

He couldn’t escape her. Kelei had never been the most athletic in gym, but she outclassed him in pure strength. She casually held Jack down even as his thrashing and fighting became more desperate. His erection grew and grew and he hated it.

He hated that Kelei’s body was doing this to him. He hated that she was managing to hold him against the wall, at her mercy. He hated that her smirk was attracting him against his will. He struggled harder and harder and harder-!

Kelei gave another soft and quick hump. Jack stopped struggling and gasped erotically. 

“You like that, don’t you?” Kelei said. Before he could deny it she humped him again. 

“I’m sorry? I didn’t hear that. What did you say?” Hump. He gasped again. “You’re not making sense.” Hump. It felt so good. “Speak up!” Hump. “Say you don’t like it!” Hump! “Say it! *HUMP* Say it! *HUMP* Say it! *HUMP* *HUMP* *HUMP* C'mon! Don’t let mean ol’ bitchy me treat you like this! *HUMPHUMPHUMP*”

“PLEASE, STOP!” Jack cried out, desperate.

“No. I won’t,” she said, and humped him three more times. He cried out, the pleasure breaking him down. “You know what’s going to happen, you funny little prankster? You’re going to apologise to me. When that doesn’t stop me you’re going to kiss up to me. And when that doesn’t work you’ll call me your superior. Your boss. Your Goddess. And even after all that I still won’t stop.”

She pressed her face close to his and shocked him silent with an invasive, tongue-filled kiss. It lasted twelve seconds, and her tongue invaded him, touching all of his mouth. She separated and, once again, gave a all-too-confident smirk.

“You’re going to cum in your pants while praising me, because I’m a Goddess while you’re just a little bitch of a man,” she said.

And Jack couldn’t stop her. She began humping him again, her own eyes half shut with the pleasure of dominating him. Lost in the bliss of his humiliation, Jack’s cries and pleas couldn’t reach her. 

“Please, stop!” he cried, as her thrusts grow stronger. Her breasts pressed against him, firm and powerful. “N-no! Kelei, please! I was w-wrong… I was wrong to do that to you! I’m sorry! R-really, Kelei! D-don’t, please!”

Her thrusts grew firmer and firmer, quicker and quicker. There wasn’t even noise anymore, as her crotch stayed glued to his, pressing him against the wall repeatedly and quickly.

“Kelei… Y-you’re better than me… I admit it! Please…mercy…” Jack cried, desperate to appease her. Kelei didn’t stop. “I’m begging you! You’re right okay? Y-you’re my better… Oh God… Y-you can take what you want from me a-and I can’t stop you! You’ve proven yourself, okay? Let me go, please! Y-you’re my Goddess!”

He had given himself into his humiliation, swore his inferiority to the girl he hated him the most, and it wasn’t enough. There was truly no escaping the building up happening in his pants. In his final few seconds Jack truly gave up and was swept up in the bliss that followed.

*** *** ***

Kelei laughed as she separated from Jack, allowing his crying form to slump down on the form. She stepped over his body, hands on her hips as she admired her work. Jack’s dirtied pants and utterly humiliation was her art, her victory.

She gently pressed her boot against his sticky crotch and relished the fearful sound of his whimpering. She considered spitting on him, but thought better of it.

“Now, I want you to remember what I did to you. Next time you even THINK about playing a funny prank on me, or any girl, remember that I can and WILL crush you,” she said. Jack simply whimpered.


Kelei turned around and opened the bathroom door where her friends had gathered to wait for her. Some giggled at the sight before leaving the poor, crushed and defeated boy to grovel at what he had become.

Installed

“Hold still. I need to make sure this won’t damage you,” the lady told me. I did as she said. She ran her tape around my naked body. The sight of her muscular body, obviously so much stronger than I could ever be even covered by her uniform, made it impossible not to shudder as she touched me.

I looked behind her. Her co workers, two similarly powerful ladies, had finished carving what could roughly be called a me-shaped hole in the wall, if I didn’t have any arms. I knew there would be sockets for my arms to go into: sockets that I could never remove them from myself. They were now padding the hole with foam. 

A slightly less muscular girl, my buyer and owner, admired my naked body. She seemed satisfied with her purchase.

“Okay, you’ll fit into your socket with no problem,” my measurement lady said. She put her tape away and grasped my hand. She lead my unresisting naked body toward the hole. “Go. Face outward.”

I nodded. Knowing there was no resisting, knowing that I was utterly trapped, I placed myself into the hold, with my arms resting to my side. I faced my buyer and “manufacturers”. My buyer was grinning. My manufacturers, aka my kidnappers, interrogators, and the people responsible for the stripping of my rights as an individual, inspected the sight to make sure nothing was off.

“Put your arms in the sockets,” my superior said. I obliged.

It was almost a relief to place my two hands into the holes beside me, since the cavity for my body was not made for them. I felt soft foam inside them. My kidnappers had explained that the foam hugging my body and arms was made of a synthetic vinyl meant to both relax aching muscles and nourish my body and skin.

“Get ready. We’re turning on the air,” one of my superiors said.

A machine was turned on and the foam around my arms and body inflated. It was comparable to that pump the doctors inflate around your arm to test your blood pressure, only smooth. It was soft, but did a splendid job at holding my arms and body in place. I struggled even though I knew I couldn’t escape this fate, just to see if I could make any leeway. I couldn’t. I was utterly sealed into the wall. 

I’m a boy-toy in a wall. Like a socket, a faucet, a light switch. Installed for her pleasure and convenience.

My superiors were doing something again: installing three doors to cover my socket. One covering my head, one my crotch and legs, and one my chest. For a while it was dark and loud as I could hear the buzz of electric drills. The drilling stopped and I could hear my superiors speaking with my buyer.

“So you see, you can use whatever part you want at a time. If you only want to see his face you can open this door…”

The door covering my head opened, and I was greeted with the sight of my superior’s face. She had her “company representative smile” on. 

“If you want to play with his torso you can open this one…”

“Or if you want his crotch or legs for whatever reason, this door…”

“Or all of him at once. And when you’re finished you can choose to close the doors and cover him. If you have people over this is a great way to cover your toy, and there’s a lock and key to keep him private.”

I saw my buyer nod. 

“Interesting,” she said. She smirked, “But what if I want to play with his… other side?”

“Well, the foam holding him can be deflated in various parts of his body, so you could reach back and play with any part of his hindquarters if that’s what you want. But if you want the full backside available I recommend you simply release him and tell him to get back in reverse position. He won’t dare disobey.”

“Oh, goody,” she smirked and looked at me with an eyebrow raised. I could gather that she would be asking that of me quite often…

“This is his food and drink for the month,” my superior said, handing her a Tupperware full of dried food. “Feed him at least twice a day and make sure he gets a restroom break once an evening. If you find yourself too lazy we have an upgrade available that takes care of that for you-”

“Oh no no, he can use my restroom. It’s fine,” the customer said. 

“Contact us if he misbehaves. Though we have personally trained this one and we doubt that will happen. He’s been properly handled, set straight, retrained…”

“And now installed in his rightful place. My bedroom,” my customer finished. 

My superiors nodded, gave me one last wink and left without saying goodbye. Even if they weren’t exactly family or my friends, it felt so cold. It reminded me of the truth: I am not a person but a tool…

My new owner slowly walked up to me. She swayed her hips as she approached and I had to wonder who she was putting the show for. She didn’t need to act sexy for me: I was just a tool installed into her wall, my body her toy to do as she pleased. Less than a pet.

She stood in front of me. I swallowed nervously. I have heard horror stories of tools like me being “broken” by particularly cruel owners. Helpless in the walls of a cruel mistress, being used as punching bags and scapegoats for people’s anger. The company treated us roughly and without care for our rights, but even they had a “rescue” system for abused toys. But they didn’t always get to them on time… if my customer turned out to be such a type of person I could not defend myself.

So when she placed her hand beneath my balls for the first time I cried out in fear. She simply stroked it with a finger, watching my member become erect to the touch. She smiled.

So, she was testing out her new toy. Okay, looks like I was making her happy. Maybe I got lucky. Maybe I didn’t have such a cruel owner after all… or at the very least maybe she would value my usefulness enough not to risk damaging me…

“Hello.”

I looked at her. Had she just said, Hello?

“I said, Hello! Aren’t you gonna say anything?”

She… she was talking to me.

“I… hi,” was all I could say. 

“There we go. For a moment I thought I bought a mute model. How are you feeling in there?”

How was I feeling? I… I didn’t know how to answer this question. Months of being hypnotized, wrestled to the ground by female interrogators and made to forget my rights as a human being had purged me of such thoughts. Her feelings. Not your feelings. Her feelings are YOUR feelings.

“I… I don’t know…” I said.

“Hmm,” The lady, my owner, casually inspected my penis with her pinky while she hummed. “Yes, the manufacturers warned me that if I wanted you to talk to me it would take some… breaking in.”

At the sound of the word “breaking” I tried in vain to bring my legs together to cover my testicles, but a big piece of foam between them kept my feet apart and genitals exposed.

The blow never came. She seemed to notice my sudden tension, though.

“Am I really such a scary person? Or maybe you’ve been in that factory or wherever they kept you for so long you think all women are going to punish you if you speak?” she said.

Seeing as I had been trained to react to the word “punishment” I loosened up my tongue at this.

“I will oblige any punishment my owners wish to enact on me without resistance,” I said, almost mechanically. 

She looked at me funnily.

“Um… what I mean to say is… I just… um… please don’t harm me,” I almost whispered.

She giggled and got up. 

“Oh I’ll hurt you, alright, my new little toy.” She got really close to my face but didn’t touch it. She placed a hand on my chest with her right hand and with her left she traced my neck with a finger. “I’m gonna be biting you often… might leave a bruise or two… and if you’ve been naughty I might just give you a firm spanking and make you work extra hard… accept extra bites…”

Biting. Spanking. There were some biting horror stories, but the way she spoke made it sound…

Was she implying she wanted to be… intimate with me?

Not that I didn’t expect something like that. I’ve been installed, after all. I was to be used in any way they wanted, barring extreme damages to my body and therefore function. I was to gratify a woman sexually, this I knew. My body was theirs to use, but… biting was something people did to those they shared a type of bond with, right? The thought that this woman who bought and owned me wanted to use me as something other than a tool was frightening, terrifying, and exciting.

I mustn't get my hopes up… I mustn't think she’ll treat me better than my “manufacturers”…

She giggled and poked my erection. It must have amused her to see how aroused fear made me.

“Have I sufficiently put the fear and admiration of God into you, little toy?” she said, coyly.

“Y-yes, ma’am.” She giggled at my admission and stroked my chest. 

“Good. Now tell me… what were you before becoming mine?”

“I was trained in the company’s farm-”

“Before that…”

“I… I shouldn’t speak about it…”

“I’m your master, little toy,” she said, and suddenly bit, softly, against my neck making him shudder. She pressed her hips against my crotch, squishing my erection between her jeans and my pelvis… “You will do as I say. Tell me about your past.”

“Um… I was a writer. Not a good one, I think,” I said.

“Oh. You never got published?” she said between exploring my neck with her lips and teeth… 

“I… don’t remember,” I struggled to think. Her bites hurt and felt amazing… but I reminded myself that she was my owner. She was probably teasing me, or exploring the “functions” of her new toy curiously, like a new laptop or TV set.

“Do you remember your name?” she said, now facing me. I could feel her breath against my chin, her hand stroking my chest…

I had spent the last few months being firmly and sometimes brutally stripped of my name and “persuaded” with means painful and pleasurable to forget my old identity. They had warped my brain, I believed, beyond repair.

So I didn’t know how she did it, but my owner undid all of the company’s hard work with her bites and loving hands.

“My name… was Nolan,” I whispered.

“Nolan… I like it. I’ll call you that,” she said.

“But Ma’am! I’m… I’m just a toy…”

“I use to name my teddy bears and dolls after TV show characters. Toys can have names, silly,” she said. 

Could it be? Was she giving me back my name?

“So, Nolan, do you know what I want from you?”

“W-whatever you want from me, I will give to the best of my abilities,” I recited.

“I want your nice… firm… ass… and I’m going to treat them like the stress balls that they are,” she said. Then she smiled and pressed some buttons on a remote control. The foam holding my pelvis softened, allowing her to reach around and wrap her hands around my ass cheeks, squeezing them. She had a firm grip and I bit down to stop myself from yelping.

“Do you moan, Nolan?” she said. “If you do, I would greatly appreciate it.”

And so I did. She played with my ass and not so gently at all. She seemed to want to soften them with her massaging and pinching, like dough. I shook my hips in “resistance” and did more than just moan; she made me cry and my erection grew and grew…

And I discovered the extent of her cruelty when she gave a satisfied sigh and let go. My erection remained untouched as she withdrew her arms from around my waist and pumped the foam. I could feel the vinyl wrap around my buttocks, giving aid to the abused muscles.

She then looked at me with a serious expression.

“I won’t always be so gentle with you, Nolan. Remember that,” she said. Then her expression softened and she winked. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

I swallowed, nervously. Then she bent forward and gave me a quick kiss… before closing the doors on me, sealing me in.

I closed my eyes, feeling disappointed and unsatisfied, but oddly filled with hope. And then I heard her whisper…

“Get some rest, boy. You’ll need all of your energy for tonight…”

And I didn’t know whether to be excited or afraid.

*******

(This story was inspired by a Thevalkyrie.com story that I can't find anymore. It ended with the idea that the dominant muscle woman would "install" the boy into the wall. I found the idea of being a permanent tool for mere use to be... interesting to say the least)

One Size Fits All Part 2 (Finale)

“It’s Been Days…and I still haven’t left.”

This is the second and final part of One Size Fits All. It’s a long story of a femdom kidnapping. 3900 words.

---

“Alright, now take them off and give them to me. I’ll get them cleaned again,” she told me. She smiled as I entered the washroom. “I’ll lend you my pair again until they’re clean.”

I stood awkwardly in the washroom, waiting for her to close the door. It took me a while to realise she wasn’t leaving.

“C-can I have some privacy?”

She frowned, as if she didn’t believe there was really any point in leaving me alone. After all, what was there left of me to show her? But, thankfully, she did leave the room and closed the door.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I was a mess. My hair was all greasy and my face was still blushing from crying earlier. Part of me was actually glad she didn’t let me leave while looking like this.

I must look like a mess to her, I thought. Why would she care for a man like me-

No! I was falling for her game! I had to remember that I were the victim! The helpless victim…

…I gripped at my pants. I’m ashamed to admit that even now, after I had blown my load in them and they were sticky and disgusting, they were also still so comfortable that I almost couldn’t bear to take them off. Just what chemicals did she use?

There was no need to change out of my shirt. I took them off anyway because I had full intention to shower. There was a knock.

“Pass me the pants now!”

I obeyed. She opened the door just a crack and I gave her the jeans. She slipped me a pair of pink jeans and a towel, and then closed the door. I smelled the towel. It was normal.

The shower water was warm and the shower itself was clean. Too clean. Whatever she had put into my clothes was being washed away. I was feeling more lucid now.

I looked up. This shower room had a small window. My mind began making plans, but I discarded them. Even I wasn’t skinny enough to escape through that window. And even if I managed to squeeze through, so what? Was I supposed to walk naked in the snow until I could get a taxi? Yeah right.

Maybe there was an option I wasn’t seeing. Like, maybe you’re already thinking of a thousand ideas I should have put into place.

But I would argue that you have never felt the way she made me feel…helpless and so sensitive and in awe…one second I felt so safe in her arms, and another I’m desperate to flee…

And besides. Whatever I could do would probably fail. I am not strong enough physically or mentally to pull off anything extreme. I am weak and very docile.

Maybe she knew that. Maybe that’s why she chose to take me home. Maybe she could see how easy I would be take home and never let go.

Just then, I heard the door creak. I flinched. She came into the washroom? I could see her silhouette from behind the translucent shower curtain…what was she doing? She was…oh my God…was she stripping down?

…She had seen me naked. But I had never seen her. To be honest, yes, that was a little uneven. It meant nothing in reality, but I couldn’t help but feel that if I were to see her naked too it would…balance the scales. Give me a little more power. But try as I might, I could not part the veil between us. Because if I did, she would see me too. I would be vulnerable.

So when she began to walk toward me I held the curtain, trying to hold the barrier between us. But like a world superpower vs a small village, she easily swept the curtain away. I flinched, almost tried to cover myself up with my hands. I tried to turn around…

What she did next was a blur…it was so fast… I barely got a glance of her face approaching me…

…she kissed me right in the mouth. She grasped the side of my head, gripping my hair, and her tongue parted my lips with little resistance. Her large chest pressed against mine. I closed my eyes…in that moment, I couldn’t remember where I was or even who I was…I don’t believe in heaven, but if I did I hoped it was nothing but this. The feel of this woman, loving you. Beautiful and powerful can’t describe her. An unstoppable force. An ethereal being. A Goddess.

I could feel her hand travel from my head down to my shoulder. She was holding me up, making sure I didn’t slip.

She took her hand off of my shoulders. What was she doing? I wanted to open my eyes but her tongue…her lips…the feel of her breasts, all made that impossible. I was in such rapture.

I felt something pour on my head, and her fingers lathering my scalp. She was lathering shampoo on me? She broke up the kissing as I felt a feeling like static taking over my mind. No signal, please wait… I tried to open my eyes, but the shampoo soap was covering my eyes…

“You won’t see me yet,” she whispered. I wiped my face, trying to clear myself of all of this soap.

“You won’t see my breasts yet. Or any other part of my naked body…not until you’re completely mine…”

At this I would have gladly opened my eyes, enduring the sting of soap and all, just to assert my freedom…but I couldn’t. In fact, there was a lot that I found myself unable to do…she was still holding me up and I was afraid she would drop me. Falling in the shower wasn’t fun, but it felt even scarier than that. I felt like if she let go of me, I would fall into somewhere cold and uncaring.

But her strong, loving arm never let go of my waist. In fact, her hand closed around my left butt cheek. I leaned forward to try and get a feel of her body…but her other hand pushed me back.

“This isn’t fair,” I said and was shocked at how soft and childlike I sounded.

“Of course it’s fair. You’ll agree soon enough…just try to enjoy your shampoo. Let me wash you…”

She continued to lather the shampoo. I could feel her fingertips, like she was probing my mind. An alien abduction, and no hope of going home. Shampoo soap washed down, like the thoughts were pouring out of my head.

Gone was my urge to leave. Gone was my planning and scheming. Gone was shame and fear.

One thought remained, though. I still felt the unbearable inequality of it. I tried so hard to open my eyes, but shut they remained. I wanted to lift my hands and touch her. Not even her amazing breasts, but any part of her other than her hands. She could touch me. Even when she was several feet away she could manipulate my body into doing her bidding with her body…with her chemicals…with my own clothes…and now with shampoo.

At the very least I should have tried to get her to stop bathing or touching me…I could do nothing about it, but at the very least I wanted to pretend to resist…

“Stop…p-please…stop…” I tried to speak. It was costing all of my power.

I felt her face close to mine. Even with my eyes closed and my sense of smell bombarded by the shampoo, I could feel her warmth. So close to me…and in that moment I didn’t just yearn for more of her touch, I could not live without the little bit she was allowing me.

“…p-please don’t let me go,” is what came out of me.

She just kept shampooing me. Then she washed it off. Then she dried my entire body with the towel…the towel that was normal. But at the same time, it was a normal towel that belonged to this goddess holding me, and that made it special. It bound me as much as everything else she had given me.

****

I woke up. It was morning again. I was wearing another one of her T-shirts and sweatpants. I didn’t even wonder what happened to my T-shirt. I remembered yesterday only vaguely. I remembered the urgency to leave, being overcome with such pleasure, desperation, and utter failure.

I was sober. I think…she had me in her clothes, after all. Heck, anything at all could be used to keep me here another day. This soft blanket on top of me, for instance. It was warm and cozy. I threw it off me in fear. The pillow could have been covered in her “special detergent.” I hoped not…

I tried to tip toe off the bed as softly as I could.

“Good morning!” she said.

I looked up and saw her face, smiling like nothing had happened the day before. She had gotten naked with me and stood mere inches away from me. I had even felt her breasts against me…and yet still she was a mystery to me. She had stopped me from seeing her body, from touching any part of her, where areas she had touched all of me. I felt dirty, used. She was pure.

Her T-shirt was that of three pink question marks. They were supposed to be the same size, but the two surrounding question marks were stretched far larger than the middle one. Also, they were much rounder than the middle one.

I got up and walked up to her, looking firm and determined I hope, and said, “This has to stop. I am going to leave right now.”

“No you’re not,” she said. “You gave me your keys and phone. You’ll leave when I know you’ll be safe.”

She grinned at me, daring me to challenge her. I looked up at her, trying to ignore the fact that her breasts were up to my face in height.

“If you don’t give them back to me,” I took a breath, “I’ll go without my phone and car keys.”

“You see? You’re still sick,” she said. She took a step closer. I took a step back.

“Sick?”

She took a step closer…and just kept walking. Caught by surprise, I leapt back. She just walked right into me.

Her chest bumped into me, her entire body’s strength unstoppable. I fell back onto the bed. She stepped to ward me so that her foot stepped between mine. She loomed over me with authority.

“Reckless drinking…losing track of time…restlessness…” she said.

“W-why are you doing this?” I said.

“Oh, paranoia, that’s bad. Losing control of your bodily functions…”

“You did something to make me do that!” I said.

“You poor baby, don’t you see? I think you know that you need to stay with me.”

“Why?”

She smiled, and rubbed the side of my knee with hers. Her hands were on her hips. I shuddered at the touch. “You think you want to go back home because you believe you can take control of your life. But remember where I found you? Drunk half to death at some bar!”

She leaned down over me. Her hair drooped down, brushing against my chest. Her gaze was piercing, reading me up and down. I tried to back away from her, further onto the bed. The blanket made that difficult. I grasped for something to pull on, to help me get away. All I could grab was the pillows. I tried to put the pillow in between me and her.

“You think you can get your life back together on your own, that you don’t need any help. But you weren’t able to, were you? You weren’t healthy,” she said. She took the pillow away from my hands.

She held me down, pressing down on my chest with one hand. I couldn’t move. She climbed onto me…oh my God…

She lay on top of me…

I couldn’t think… she lifted up my head and placed the pillow under it…

Her weight on top of mine…her stomache lay on my crotch…it was too much. I couldn’t even imagine getting up. Every possibility of escaping this was gone. She looked at me.

“You need someone to take control, dear. You need someone to keep you in check, make sure you stay where you need to be and remind you of your place. That’s why you aren’t leaving my house, dear boy…”

“I…I’m my own man…I need to figure things out for myself,” I said.

“Are you? Have you felt like a competent adult at all for the last couple of days? Have you been certain of anything at all?”

I looked into her eyes. At first I had felt like an adult…but as the days and hours passed by I had become less and less…I couldn’t tell the time, I couldn’t control my own body…she had taken all of that from me. She made me into her helpless doll…

The doorbell rang. The sound woke me up from my thoughts. My Godde- NO! I shook my head. My “captor” looked at me and pressed a finger to my lips.

“Wait for me, okay?” she winked.

She got off of me and I felt so cold. I listened to her footsteps as she walked to the living room toward the front door. The door opened.

There was a stranger’s voice. A female voice. “Hi, ma’am.”

“What can I do for you, officers?”

Police? It had been so long since I heard any other voice beside my captor’s captivating tone and my own pathetic, tearful voice. I knew that I was on the verge of surrendering to this lady. I was as helpless against her charms as if I were a child she kidnapped. I needed to make myself heard.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am. We know you’re a busy woman,” a male voice said.

“We have some witnesses saying that they saw you driving off with a man in your arms?” the female said.

They were looking for me! I needed to speak up. I needed to make myself heard. But why wasn’t I shouting?

“Pardon? A man in my arms? Well, I’m certainly on the chubby side, but there’s no way I could do something like that,” she said. I could feel the coy smile she must have had.

I tried to shout, but nothing came from me.

“We want to search your house, if you’ll let us,” male cop said.

“You don’t have a warrant,” She said.

“No. That’s why we’re asking for your favor,” female cop said.

I tried to think of what I was fighting for. The words “freedom” and “escape” and “independence” popped up in my head. But they were just words. They barely had meaning. I continued to lay still and silent.

“Okay, fine. I’ll let you in,” She said. I couldn’t believe my ears. She was letting the cops in? But on one condition. Only YOU can check the inside of my bedroom. It’s a mess right now, full of underwear and, um, other girl things. I don’t mind who checks the rest of the house but that is my one condition.”

“No promises ma’am. I won’t search your room if there’s nothing going on, but as soon as there’s anything funny I’m afraid I’m going in too,” said the male voice.

I heard the two cops walk into the house, their footsteps coming closer and closer. Even then I still didn’t say anything. My mind was almost blank with only the foggiest desire to leave. I mumbled something that sounded like a cry for help under my breath.

I could hear my captor coming to my room, joined by another set of footsteps. The other one, the male, probably, was going through the living room.

They opened the door. My captor walked in, her face as untroubled as ever, and beside her was a red haired lady wearing a police uniform. I looked at the policewoman. She looked at me.

And then she looked away! I tried to cry out to her and made a sound just loud enough anyone in the room could hear. “H-help”

The policewoman continued to ignore me, opting to search the closet instead. “You weren’t kidding, lady. This is an inexcusable mess you’ve got up here.”

“Well, just so you know, I was in the middle of…cleaning up,” my captor said. She walked up to me and sat right next to me. We both watched the policewoman “search” the room, I in horror and she happily. I tried again to cry for help, but she still ignored me.

“Hey! You find anything?” the male cop yelled.

“Nope!” the female officer said.

I couldn’t believe what was happening and tried to get up, but my captor pushed me back down. She gripped the elastic of the pants I were wearing and, as casually as opening a chip bag, pulled them down. I gave a soft yelp and tried to resist but she ignored me. She pulled down my underwear too and began softly squeezing my junk. I desperately looked at the female officer in the room just a few feet away from us, but we might as well have been alone.

In shock, this continued for two minutes. I was more erect and frightened than ever before.

“I checked the basement. Nothing down here but laundry. That’s a lot of pink T-shirts, ma’am!” the male cop said.

“Oh I know,” my glorious captor replied, continuing to squeeze me. “I own the company that makes them. Why would I ever need to buy any other brand?”

“Is that so? Well, I think we’ve seen enough. Dana, you done?”

“Just about,” the female cop said. She turned to my captor, not even giving me a passing glance. “We’ll probably want to check any other property you might own, or any storage you could be renting.”

And my captor winked at her and said, “That might take you guys a loooong time. I own quite a bit of property, you see.”

“I know,” the female cop said, smiling.

The male cop was my only hope. I had to call out to him. But whatever miniscule willpower I had before was being squeezed away…

The female cop finally looked at me as she opened the bedroom door. She smiled and pulled down her collar. I was horrified to see underneath her uniform was a white and pink T-shirt. She winked and slowly shut the door.

I could hear the footsteps, both of them, walking away, growing quieter and quieter. My chance was getting smaller and smaller, my fate sealing. I tried to give a loud roar, but could only muster enough for a pathetic, ecstatic moan.

I heard the door closed. I missed my shot. Tears rolled down my eyes and I don’t even know if they were from shock, sadness, or unbearable pleasure.

And she looked down on me and smiled. She stopped squeezing me to my horror and pulled up my underwear and pants. She couldn’t just leave me like this!

“That was interesting, wasn’t it?” she said.

“Who…who are you?” I said.

“That doesn’t matter. Now, where were me?” She lay on top of me again. Her stomache to my crotch, her chest to my chest and her face to my face. I was a helpless doll once again, but now even moreso. On top of me was evidently a mysterious, powerful woman who outclassed me in every regard.

“Now, answer my question,” she said. “With everything you’ve gone through…can you honestly say you’re a competent man?”

“…no,” I said.

“Good boy. You see?” her lips met mine and I surrendered at once. Her lips on mine, her hands wrapped around my body, all of her weight pressed against me. My erection raged on in my pants.

She separated from me and giggled. “Good boy. And earlier, when you said it wasn’t fair that I never let you see my body but I could see, touch, and squeeze yours whenever I wanted…do you understand now?”

Yes, I did. It was foolish of me, like a child complaining about how his parents could punish him but he couldn’t do anything to them. Her body, her very identity, was a treasure, a gift from the heavens. She was a Goddess. I was just a mortal, a mortal male. What right did I have against hers? Of Course she could have me whenever she wanted, like a woman can breathe air. Of course the reverse wasn’t true.

I nodded and she stroked my hair.  “You’ve taken the first step to accepting your new role…a role you were born for, I can tell. Have a reward!”

And without waiting to hear my pleas she raised her body and crawled forward. Her crotch was now just upon my crotch, her stomache above my chest and her breasts floating right over my face, blocking my view.

The last thing I saw were three pink question marks before being pummeled, smothered, and sealed away by two great breasts. She didn’t let up no matter how hard I tried to lift her, to gain some control over what were doing. Her hips grinded against mine, her breasts soft but uncompromising. And her laugh when I moaned in orgasm, ruining my pants yet again…and again…

And when I was spent beyond spent and she…always flawless, forever…said to me, “Maybe one day, eventually, I will let you see some of me. When I want you to, you can have what you want from me…”

She got up from the bed. “Now go put away those dirty clothes of yours and take a shower. I’ll cook us up some breakfast. I know you’re hungry.”

She was right, of course. I did what she told me and we had a nice meal together.

** ** ** ** **

Since that day I have not managed to leave this house. It has been over two weeks.

Sometimes I have lapses and I forget where I truly belong. I think I can escape, but she always catches me. Either with her clothes, with her body, or some other method I can’t predict. She still hasn’t told me everything about her. I still don’t know where I am in the country, or if anyone is looking for me…probably not…

I never lose track of time anymore, unless she believes I’ve been “naughty.” Then hours can last like days, or days can feel like hours…and I’m trapped in a cage of both space and time until she lets me out. She still uses her detergent on my clothes, and even tells me ahead of time. She’ll say, I’ve used my detergent on your pants, and I will willingly put them on and the same thing happens to me each and every time.

Despite what she said, she hasn’t let me see her body yet…I can feel it and touch it when we’re in bed, but there’s always clothing in between us…she can squeeze my body whenever she wants. She strips me whenever she wants and we’ll have our version of sex whenever she wants…she’ll make me cum again and again without ever letting my penis into her…but that’s her right as my Goddess…

…I am trapped and I doubt I could ever leave…I wear the clothes she gives me and sleep in her bed willingly…It’s been days and I am trapped in every way.