Femdom Fantasies

by Shallara (c) 2009
In tribute to Lady Julia
(continued from part three)

Ariella slowly drifted back to consciousness, delicious thoughts of the dungeon she had just ‘visited’ and her spanking experiences turning over in her mind. Shallara never hurt her; Ariella preferred to think of it as heavy stimulation. She always came out of a spanking feeling aroused and alive and with a closer bond than ever to Shallara.

Sometimes the spanking were pure pleasure; she loved those most intimate ones, draped across Shallara’s knee on the warm leather couch in front of the fire. Shallara would caress her bottom between strokes, playing her fingernails around the patterns that the hand smacks left. The arousal would grow slowly and surely, and as the spanking progressed, she would often feel Shallara’s massaging hands probing between her moist thighs. And it always ended in long cuddles, creamy liqueurs and a feeling of love and well being.

On other occasions, Shallara would play the domme; sometimes a teacher, sometimes an assertive matron…or whatever the mood drove her to try. The role play excited them both, and the sexual excitement came as much from the play as the punishments that Shallara laid on. She found it humiliating and arousing to be bent over, sometimes over a chair, sometimes with hands on her knees, and made to offer her bottom in such an unconditional way. She could sense her private parts on display, open and vulnerable, and aware that she was unable to hide the swelling and dampness that always occurred. There was that ever present element of arousal, the stickiness between her thighs, the dewiness on her lips, and that feeling that her breasts were on fire and wanting to burst out from their skin.

Although playful and exuberant, Shallara hated to hurt her. There were times when Shallara thought she had over-played a stroke, and Ariella loved the compassion and attention that would follow: gentle massaging of a soothing cream into the offending welt, kisses and apologies. She often joked afterward that Shallara was really too soft, kind and compassionate to really be her domme.

So it was with surprise, that as Ariella tuned in more closely to the voices in the entrance hall, she heard Shallara saying: “I thought you weren’t meant to come back, Tim ? What are you doing here? “.

“May I come in please? I have to speak to you. ”

Shallara felt less than pleased. She had just been leading Ariella down into a wonderful trance, and this interruption was really unwelcome. Seeing who was now standing there, Shallara felt acid.

Tim stepped through the door and had a flashback to his thoughts when he had last entered the apartment. When he had last stepped through this door, he had challenged himself to get Shallara in bed within two weeks. He had left impotent and with an invisible restraint around his crotch. That target now seemed very remote, and in fact was at the back of his mind. It was his sexual freedom he wanted. Tim remembered the padded trestle he had seen in the sitting area on his last visit, and his mind had been churning over the possibilities. Maybe, just maybe, she would accept his offer?

He half expected that she would respond mockingly; more likely that she would reject his suggestion out of hand. In fact he was a bit stunned at what did come back to him: “Tim, are you sure you are prepared to be spanked? Do you know how much that hurts? Actually….I don’t think you are man enough to take it from me!”.

There was a low murmur from someone with a male voice. Ariella could only pick up the trailing words: “……but if I do, then it is all over? I get my libido back? I don’t need to get yours or Mrs Stern’s permission anymore?”.

“Agreed, Tim. But the right hand ring stays on. You are never going to abuse women again…”

The voices trailed off as she heard Shallara take the man into a spare room that led off the entrance lobby. Ariella got up and walked over to the liquor cabinet to pour herself a Baileys. It was creamy and sweet, just right for her mood. The fire flickered in the hearth reminding her of the dungeon dream she had just had. She sat and waited for Shallara to rejoin her, her lips caressing the glass’s rim, savoring the drops of nectar that seemed to trickle down the edges. Her tongue darting in occasionally to lick at the creamy contents. As she waited Enya played on, and her existence had merely seemed to drift from a sleeping dream to a waking dream.

Ariella turned to the doorway as she heard Shallara enter. Shallara’s fingers came up to her lips, indicating her to remain silent. Then she was gone. A few moments later, Shallara came back through the door leading a man by the elbow. He was naked; Ariella wanted to giggle as she caught sight of his semi erect member which seemed to point the way ahead. A red silk cloth was wound around his eyes in a blindfold, and his breathing seemed heavy. Well built, not too much flab – Ariella’s mind did somersaults as she tried to figure out what was going on. Shallara’s fingers remained on her own lips, urging her to remain silent.

Reaching the center of the room, Shallara stopped, and whispered in the man’s ear. He stood erect, hands at his sides, his mouth deadpan. Shallara moved quickly over to the padded trestle in the corner, and brought it back to the center of the room, placing in front of the blindfolded man.

“Bend over this trestle Tim…..are you sure you really want to go through with this?”. The man reached forward, feeling for where the trestle was and then bent forward. “Grip the front legs, Tom…..spread your legs as wide as they go…make them touch the back legs…there you go!”

Ariella could sense the sexual tension. The semi-flaccid member had sprung upright, and seemed to be stabbing at the underside of the padded trestle. Shallara glided back to the wall unit in the corner of the room. In the one hand she had a whippy little cane they had purchased once at an adult shop. It stung like crazy and left angry red wheals; in the other, her favorite little strap. About two inches wide, eighteen inches long, it ended in two tails. In skilled hands, it was versatile – it could sting, it could bruise, it could burnish, it could bite! She seemed to be breathing deeply; a look had entered her eyes that Ariella had never seen. She paced around the bent and blindfolded man, rubbing his back lightly, caressing his buttocks.

Time stood still. The bent over man shifted uncomfortably. Shallara looked around, and cast one of her impish smiles Ariella’s way. Suddenly she was gone. When she came back into the room, she was carrying the wooden spoon and a baking tray. The silence prevailed, and she barely acknowledged Ariella’s presence. Shallara bent down gracefully, her knees together, and placed the baking tray directly beneath the man’s hanging head.

She stood in front of him, and gently took hold of handful of his hair, pulling his head up. “Open your mouth, Tim…”. A measured pause as she played out the drama. Even sitting 5 feet away, her feet curled up under her, Ariella could start to smell the musty scents wafting off these these two players. “It’s a bite stick, Tim…..now close your teeth around it. …..You have to grip it tightly Tim. If you drop it ……you will walk out of this room, and never see me again. And don’t…do not, under any circumstance, leave go of the trestle legs in front of you! Do you understand Tim ? This is going to hurt you. Hurt you more than you have ever experienced! You are going to wish that you had never asked me to do this to you! But you have, and you know what?” “Shallara’s voice seemed to get huskier with each sentence. It was as if she was battling to control herself. “ I am going to enjoy it. It excites me Tim. I know how you feel about women, and on behalf of each of those ladies out there who you have ever put down, I am gong to whip your scraggly butt with a cane. I am gong to watch you jiggle it Tim. And I am going to get off on it!”

Ariella watched her closely. Her excitement was evident; it was lust, and for the first time, she saw the latent sadistic streak in her Domme. Until now it had always been about control, and power with some sensuality and rough play thrown in. But this time it was something different. This man had brought the animal out in her, and she was hot. Ariella found her own feelings starting to build. She desperately wanted to play with herself, but she knew she had to keep absolutely still, to keep undetected.

Ariella stepped back and watched. The head seemed to droop, but the stick stayed grasped in his mouth. “You did say no more than six, didn’t you Tim ?”. The nod was almost imperceptible. “So if we aim for around 5..or maybe just a touch more, that works for you?”. Shallara picked up the cane from the coffee table. She held it lightly in her fingers, almost like a violinist gripping her bow. Her red painted nails seemed to be set off against the ash white cane. And with a slight flick of her wrist, she sent it searing across the man’s bottom. The man yelped and jerked his bottom in. But the bite-stick stayed gripped between his teeth.

Shallara paced around him, He could not see her, but her presence was obvious. She was breathing deeply, and flicking the cane rhythmically. The next three strokes were delivered in quick succession. It was as if a thick red crayon had been used to draw a line of pain, joining his two bottom cheeks. His hands stoically grasped the front legs, but he seemed to be doing a dance with his pelvis. He looked silly as he waved his bottom around, trying desperately to find some relief. His penis flopped around under the trestle, any vestiges of an erection long gone.

He jerked as her fingers traced the lines. The welts stood out from his skin, white in the center, a multi-colored red on either side. She massaged his bottom gently, and lent forward to whisper in his ear, “Hurts’ doesn’t it ? mmmm…..I like that. It excites me to see you like this, Tim. I am all hot…and it is you who has done it.” Her body heat had seemed to release the scent of her perfume. Chanel No 5 flooded his senses. The warmth from the fire; this closeness of this vibrant and spunky woman. The blood flooded back into his penis. “…and we are still within the limit Tim. I have only given you 4 strokes…should we carry on? Don’t forget the bite stick, Tim !…and don’t leave hold of the legs of the trestle. I will tell you when we you can leave go.”

Shallara took up her position again. Like that violin lead, her balance slightly back on her right leg, the cane at the ready….then that delicate flick of the write again. She played the proffered bottom like a musical instrument. The crack as the whippy rod met his tensed buttocks. She watched it vibrate against the trestle. The cheeks vibrating open and closed in desperate attempt to find some relief. But at last he settled. “Don’t drop it, big boy” she whispered huskily, “we’re still under six……”. The pause hung in the air….”if I give you another half, I am still within the limit, aren’t I ? Just nod, your had, don’t say anything. Or…you can walk away right now?”

They waited for his response. At last it came…..a slight nod. The wooden spoon trembled in his mouth. “The reward will be worth it, Timmy, don’t drop it…how bad can half a stroke really be? Think about what we discussed, Tim…picture it in your mind. And if you agree, push your bottom out. Offer yourself to me Tim.”

As if by magic, the cane seemed to have been replaced in Shallara’s hand by the strap. She sensuously dragged it through her left hand, fingering the supple leather, twisting the tongues backwards and forwards. Without warning, she raised it and brought it crashing down across the left check of the upturned bottom. The strap’s tongues snaked in-between the tender thigh flesh, kissing the highly sensitive skin. Exquisite agony as the one tongue licked at the top of his scrotum. The other caressed the perineum with a scorching flash.

Time stood still for Ariella. But it could only have been a fraction of a second later that Tim groaned uncontrollably, and ejaculated the bite-stick from his mouth, the spoon clattered down onto the baking tray at his feet. He writhed in a climax of pain, pounding his hips into the padded trestle. His penis jabbed backwards and forwards uncontrollably. His hands shot around to clasp and caress his backside. Slowly he stood up.

“You dropped it !”, Shallara accused him. “It was only half a stroke…I didn’t even touch your right cheek!”

Tim tore off the red silk blindfold and spun around. His eyes found Ariella’s and a flush of red streaked up into his cheeks. “What the …who is this? ..what is she doing here ? You …!”.

“You dropped it Tim…you lost the bet”, Shallara reiterated. “Better go and get dressed and be on your way like a good boy.” Ariella watched silently as Shallara escorted him out. As he exited the front door, she saw Shallara hand him something. “Perhaps I will see you again Timmy, once you have taken in the lessons on this CD. I would suggest listening twice a day, as soon as you wake up and before you go to bed. And Timmy, cold cream will do wonders for your welts!”.

He walked away furious and uptight. His backside hurt like crazy and the area between his legs where the strap had caught, stung remorselessly. But even worse, he felt humiliated and double-crossed. He was just about to drop the CD, but the writing caught his attention. If this was the way into her pants, maybe he had better listen. On it, there were two lines: “Hypnosis: The joys of submission” and “Red Silk by Lady Julia”. Maybe…..maybe….