Femdom Fantasies

by Free Thinking Writer © 2008

Harold Arthur Applequist carried a most unfortunate name, bequeathed onto him by his paternal grandfather, Harold, and his father, Arthur. Harold’s mother, Wendy, couldn’t have done anything about Harold’s surname, of course, but she could have done something about the rest of it. But clearly she did not.

Kids are cruel. A child with the name “Harold Applequist” easily becomes a target of playground derision. A child saddled with such a name may respond in any of a variety of ways. Some may turn inward, hoping to escape notice. Such a child rarely rises to his potential. Other children respond with their fists, turning into bullies and worse. As a child himself, Harold’s father received his share of playground taunting, and his response was to lash out, setting behavior patterns that lasted throughout his days.

Harold could have gone either of these ways, but he did not, for he had an advantage many children did not: his mother. Wendy Applequist was a kind, sensitive, caring woman. Long before such aphorisms became popular, Harold’s mother had a deep understanding that “the best revenge is success.” And thus, Harold grew to become a kind, sensitive, hard-driven success. Harold responded to the playground taunting by earning the best grades in school, by always going over and above on every assignment presented. When he was old enough, he took a paper route. In the winter, he shoveled driveways for several of the elderly members of his neighborhood. In the summers, he cut their grass and helped with their gardening.

In time, he attended college, continuing to earn top marks, then launched a career.

Harold was equally successful in other aspects of his life. He didn’t always make friends easily, but he kept the friends he made. While one couldn’t call him popular with the girls, he rarely lacked a date for school dances or, as he matured, important social functions. Growing up, Harold had watched the interactions between his parents, but the only thing he learned from this example was how to dominate a woman. He vowed he’d never treat a woman the way his father treated his mother.

Unfortunately, that didn’t teach him what to do; it only taught him what not to do.

This didn’t deter Harold. He carefully picked the women he asked out, looking for intelligence, gentleness and kindness, the attributes he most admired from his mother. And so he got to know many very pleasant woman. And yet, he never fell in love.

—

Harold knocked at Teresa’s apartment door. After a brief pause, the door was opened by Alicia, Teresa’s roommate.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said, looking him up and down while standing in the doorway.

“Hello, Alicia,” Harold said. “Teresa should be expecting me.”

“She’s almost ready,” Alicia said, still leaning against the doorway, blocking Harold’s entrance. After a pause, Harold raised an eyebrow, and Alicia stepped back, holding the door. Alicia gave the door a casual flip to close it, barely missing Harold in the process.

Harold moved past her, then decided this time to notice Alicia’s attitude towards him. “What did I ever do to offend you. Alicia?”

“Me, personally? Nothing. But I’ve seen your type before. A real go getter, always in charge. I bet you order for your dates when you take them to those fine restaurants.” She looked down her nose at him. “Always polite, but everyone knows, Harold wears the pants. And with your rugged good looks and solid job, women let you get away with it, too. I hope you’ll excuse me if I don’t faint at your feet for you.”

Without another word and ignoring Harold’s gaping mouth, Alicia turned on her heel and stomped to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

“Well,” said Harold eventually. “I guess she doesn’t like me.”

Accustomed to waiting for his dates, Harold paced slowly while checking his watch from time to time. It wasn’t long before Teresa appeared. She was wearing a little black dress, black heels, and impeccable makeup.

“You look nice,” he told her. She walked to him and presented a cheek for a careful kiss. “Thank you.” She squeezed his arm briefly, then pulled her coat from the closet. Harold helped her with it, then held the apartment door for her. He also carefully but quite automatically held the building door, then opened the car door for her, closing it once she was seated.

Conversation over dinner was relaxed, Teresa mainly asking questions and rarely offering opinions. Harold, remember the conversation with Alicia, finally asked Teresa, “Am I overbearing?”

“What?” Teresa said. “Of course not.” She paused, considering. “Well, maybe a little, but you mean well, and I don’t mind.”

“I’m overbearing?” Harold said again.

“Only a little, Harold,” Teresa said. “But most men are. I’m used to it.”

Harold stared at her with wide eyes.

“Oh dear,” said Teresa after a moment. “I should have lied. I’m sorry. You’re really not overbearing at all, you just let a girl know what you like. Nothing wrong with that at all.”

If anything, Harold’s eyes opened wider. “You think you need to lie to me?”

Teresa cocked her head, then laughed. “You’re such a kidder. Can you tell me anything about the show tonight?”

The remainder of the evening passed uneventfully, although Harold was distracted most of the evening, not really focusing on Teresa until she invited him in.

—

Teresa opened the door wearing jeans and a blouse. “Hello, Harold.”

“Oh oh,” said Harold. “Didn’t I tell you where we were going?”

Teresa stepped back so Harold could enter, then quietly closed the door behind him. “We need to talk.”

Teresa then led the way into the apartment’s living room, taking the easy chair while leaving the sofa to Harold. Harold sat down, then took a breath. Teresa held up her hand.

“Harold, I’m seeing someone else.”

“What?” he said. “Oh. That’s okay, I am too. But we have dinner reservations and a show.”

“Harold, you don’t understand,” Teresa said. “I’m seeing someone else. Exclusively. I like you, but you don’t love me, and I think he does.”

“But,” Harold sputtered, fishing into his suit jacket pocket. “I have tickets. I don’t want to go alone.”

It was at that moment that Alicia walked into the room. “Tickets? Where?” Without waiting for an answer, she walked across the room and took them from a startled Harold, looking at them. “I’ll go.” She handed the tickets back. “Give me 10 minutes.”

“But-”

Alicia ignored him, returning to her room and closing the door.

Harold turned to Teresa. “She doesn’t even like me.”

“I’m sorry, Harold,” Teresa said. “I’m not going. Did you have someone else you wanted to ask? I can go tell her.”

Harold looked at the floor, trying to unscramble his thoughts.

“Harold,” Teresa said kindly. “Was I wrong? Do you love me? Were we leading towards marriage? The truth.”

Harold looked at her. “No,” he said finally.

“So I haven’t broken your heart,” she said. “Just your plans?”

Harold nodded.

“Okay. Take Alicia. Have a nice time.”

Harold nodded again. The two of them sat together for several minutes, not talking. Eventually, Alicia’s door opened. Harold looked at her, his jaw dropping for a moment.

Alicia was wearing a red off the shoulder dress, matching opera gloves and heels. She posed for a moment, pretending to adjust a wayward wisp of hair, feeling Harold’s eyes on her. She turned to him as he stood up, then crossed the room to stand in front of him. Watching his eyes the entire time, she reached out and straightened his tie.

Harold still hadn’t said anything, so Alicia cocked an eyebrow. Harold gave himself a little shake. “You look nice.”

“Thank you. Say good night to Teresa, I’ll wait in the hall.” Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and disappeared out the apartment door, closing it quietly.

Harold turned to Teresa. She stepped up to him and grasped the lapels of his jacket, adjusting his clothing briefly. “You’re a good man, Harold,” she said. “I like you. But that’s not enough. Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

He turned to go, but Teresa spoke again. “If you have an open mind, I think Alicia may surprise you.”

“She hates me.” Harold said.

Teresa didn’t say anything, but instead gave Harold a push towards the door. As he opened the door, she quietly said, “Good bye, Harold.”

Harold paused, but didn’t turn around when he answered her. “Good bye, Teresa.”

In the hallway, Alicia was waiting. “I’ll drive,” she announced, taking his arm and tugging Harold in the direction of the parking garage.

“My car is out front,” he said, gesturing in the other direction.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine there,” Alicia said.

“But-”

Alicia stopped and turned to Harold. “Do you think women can’t drive?”

“No, of course not.”

“You just think you’re a better driver than I am?”

“I’ve never seen you drive.”

“So you’re being obstinate because… what?”

Harold stared at Alicia, not saying anything. He was not used to a woman who stood up to a man and didn’t know how to respond. After several seconds of silence, Alicia raised an eyebrow.

“Um,” Harold said finally. “You can drive.”

Alicia began to smile, starting with the corners of her mouth, her lips parting into a full smile that included a sparkle in eyes. “Why Harry,” she said, stepping back next to him and offering his arm a firm hug. “That’s so sweet! Thank you. I love driving.”

Harold returned her infections smile, but winced at the “Harry”. Still, she felt quite nice as she continued to lean slightly against him while resuming the short trek to the parking garage. “Alicia,” he said after a few steps. “I prefer if people call me Harold.”

“But Harold is just so stuffy,” Alicia said. “Harry fits you so much better, and thanks to Jo Rowling, a well-respected name. Why don’t you like it?”

Harold considered his words before responding. He’d answered that question before, but he wanted to use more care when explaining to Alicia. For some reason, her opinion mattered to him. “Growing up, kids can be cruel,” he explained. “Hairy Harry was the nicest name they called me. The only kid who was teased for his name more than I was Timmy Roach. He wore glasses.”

The two continued to walk while Alicia considered her response. They arrived at the parking garage and disengaged, Harold holding the door for Alicia.

“Thank you,” she said, stepping through. She waited for him, taking his arm again and tugging him towards her car. “Harry, there are no petty school boys here teasing you. Just a beautiful woman who thinks you’re cute. And she would much rather spend the evening with fun Harry than stuffy old Harold.”

It was only a few steps to Alicia’s car, a deep blue 1965 Ford Mustang. The top was down. Harold stopped and stared at the car. “It runs?”

Alicia laughed. “I’m putting the mechanic’s children through college.” She looked down for a moment. “It was my dad’s.”

Harold reached out a tentative hand, caressing the car lightly, then looked at Alicia. “Could I… Could I drive it some time?”

“I don’t know,” Alicia said slowly. “I mean, I might let a Harry drive this car, but I don’t know about a Harold.”

Harold laugh, recognizing he’d been out-maneuvered. Alicia knew she had won, but made a decision. “Well, maybe I’d let a Harold drive it, too.”

She opened the passenger door and held it for him. Harold climbed in reverently, and Alicia closed the door. After she had settled into the driver’s seat, Harold said, “Alicia. I’m okay with ‘Harry’ from you.”

Alicia smiled her warmest smile, her eyes twinkling, and caressed his hand. Then she turned to the business of starting the car and backing out of her parking slot.

“Do we have reservations somewhere?” Alicia asked.

“Sarafina’s at 6:30,” Harold replied. “It’s -”

“Downtown,” Alicia interrupted. “Valet parking?”

“Of course, and they’re open late, so we can walk to the theater, if a few blocks is okay with you.”

“Gotcha,” said Alicia. “Hang on!”

In spite of her warning, Alicia sedately drove through the suburban neighborhood towards the freeway. “Okay, Harry. You have twenty minutes while I’m driving to impress me with your wit and charm. Once we’re at the restaurant, I’ll be dominating the conversation.”

Harold immediately began to relay a humorous story about a working lunch meeting. While she drove, Alicia let him talk, but began to steer the conversation with careful questions. She asked him a few things she knew — where he worked and what he did — and a few things she didn’t know — where he grew up and whether he had any interesting hobbies. She’d heard about him from Teresa, of course, but she wanted to hear about him from his own lips, in his own words. When he responded in a cursory fashion, she prompted for more complete information. When he meant to go on longer than she cared, she interrupted with a new question.

Soon enough they arrived in front of Sarafina’s, the business of parking the car and being led to a table interrupting other conversations. Once seated, Harold looked over his menu at her. She had her eyes down, scanning the menu. “Alicia,” he said. She looked up at him. “You seemed almost interested in what I had to say. I feel quite turned inside out by your questions.”

“Of course I’m interested in what you have to say, Harry,” she said. “I’m sizing you up, after all.”

Harold was surprised at her response and sat back in his chair, saying nothing, blinking at her in surprise.

“Poor Harry,” Alicia said kindly. “You’re not used to a woman who speaks her mind.”

Harold considered his reaction to her then smile. “No, I don’t think I am. Have I resided sufficiently long under your magnifying glass? Have you decided anything about me yet?”

Alicia pursed her lips. “Nothing final,” she said after a moment. “I may decide to keep you.” She thought about it some more, cocking her head to the side. “But I have half a mind to kiss you quite thoroughly when the evening is over, so I do hope you’ll consider that before ordering dinner.”

With that, her eyes returned to the menu, now held between them as a shield against further questions. Harold reviewed the menu again, now realizing the garlic chicken wasn’t such a good idea.

The waitress brought their drink orders and took their requests for dinner. With the menu no longer providing a place to hide, Harold said, “Do I have a choice in any of this?”

Alicia smiled sweetly before changing the subject. Several times, Harold tried to return to the topic, but every time, Alicia neatly redirected him.

Dinner soon ended, and the two found themselves walking two blocks to the theater, Alicia clinging to Harold’s arm as they walked. She trilled a laugh as he told her a story from his childhood. He stopped walking and turned to look at her.

“I don’t get you,” he said.

“Play your cards right, and you might,” she said in reply.

Harold blushed. “That’s not what I meant.”

Alicia looked down for a moment. “I’m sorry, Harry. What don’t you get about me?”

“Well, you’re such a contradiction, so amazingly feminine,” he said. “But at the same time you’re so-”

He paused, unsure of what words to use. Alicia took pity and chose to help. “Demanding? Bossy?” She paused too, then said very slowly, “Bitchy?”

“Yes, exactly,” said Harold before thinking. Then he saw the steely glint in her eyes. “Well, except the last word. I wouldn’t have used that last word.”

“But you were thinking it.”

“Um-”

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Harold,” she said, stressing the ‘Harold’. “You were thinking it.”

“Yeah.” Harold took a half step away from her.

“So you don’t think feminine women have brains?” Alicia punctuated her sentence with a half step forward, staring up into Harold’s eyes.

“Well,” said Harold, realizing he was in trouble. “Um. Of course they do.”

Alicia cocked her eyebrow at him. “Of course they do,” Harold repeated. He paused, “Well, sometimes.”

Alicia smiled wryly at his honesty.

“But you don’t think they should have an opinion then?”

“Sure they can,” he said.

“But not express their opinion?”

“Um-”

Alicia took another step closer. “You’re not in trouble, Harry,” she said quietly. She took another half step, now standing very close to him, looking up into his eyes. “In fact, I’m a little flattered that you’re worried I might be angry.” She smiled. “Will you do something for me?”

“Ok,” said Harold, a mix of emotions overwhelming him.

“Will you think about my questions?”

He nodded. “Ok.”

Alicia’s smile grew again, and she rested her hand on his. “Thank you, Harry.” Then she bumped him gently with her head. “Do you think we should try to make the theater before the show starts?”

Later, the two of them used the drive to Alicia’s apartment to talk about the show. Alicia parked in the underground parking, then led them to her apartment door.

While she got out her keys, Harold said, “Thank you for tonight, Alicia. The evening started as a tragedy, but I had a very nice time.”

Alicia didn’t say anything, but opened the door, then reached out with a hand and grabbed Harold by his tie, dragging him into the apartment after her.

“Ack-” said Harold.

Alicia closed the door, then pushed Harold against it. “Hush,” she told him.

“But-”

She pushed her body into him, holding 3 fingers in front of his lips, shushing him. “This is where I kiss you thoroughly before sending you home.” Then she did just that, pulling his head down to meet her while continuing to press him against the door.

After a short eternity, she broke the kiss. “That was nice,” she said, staring into his eyes. “in fact…” She pulled him into another kiss, her tongue teasing against his lips, against his teeth, then exploring his mouth for a moment. All too soon, she broke the kiss again.

Then she grabbed his tie again, pulling him away from the door, and opened it again. Still using his tie as a handle, she pushed him out the door. “I expect a phone call,” she said. She let go of his tie. “Tomorrow.”

He nodded, still not talking.

“Good night, Harry,” she said, starting to close the door.

“Good night,” he said.

As the door closed, he turned away slowly, but the door opened again, her hand snaking out to grab his collar. She pulled him to her again, offering one more kiss. Then, laughing, she gave him a little push and closed the door again. He heard the lock click.

Over the next 9 days, Harold and Alicia saw each other 3 more times, once for lunch, once for dinner out, and once when Alicia made dinner for the two of them.

Over dinner, Harold admitted to being quite smitten by her. His feelings surprised him, and he was even more surprised to be admitting them to her. But she had a way of drawing him out, getting him to talk about things he’d never talked about. Alicia smiled as he admitted all this.

After dinner, she drafted Harold to help clean up. With the last dish dried and put away, Alicia took Harold’s hand and drew him to her bedroom.

With the bedroom door closed, Harold tried to wrap his arms around Alicia’s waist, but instead she turned him around and pushed him into the bed, then crawled on top of him. She crushed him to the bed with her kiss.

She broke the kiss and sat up, straddling him. He reached for her, but she deflected his hands, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the bed over his head. Still holding his wrists, she kissed him again, slowly.

“Leave your hands right there,” she told him. “Understand?”

“No,” he told her.

She looked into his eyes. “We do things my way, Harry,” she said. “Or not at all.”

She watched him as she released his wrists, and he made no effort to lower his hands. She smiled, then slid down and began unbuckling his belt.

“I want you, Harry,” she told him. She ran a hand over his crotch. “I take it you’re okay with that?”

He started to reach for her, and she pounced on his wrists, pinning them back against the bed. “I told you, we do this my way. Don’t make me tie you down first, I’m not feeling that patient tonight.”

She released his wrists, and his hands immediately reached for her again.

“Damn it, Harry!” she said, drawing back, then climbing off the bed entirely. “Can’t you follow a simple command?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but headed for the bedroom door, slamming it behind her.

Harold tarried in the bedroom for a few minutes, trying to figure out what had happened. Eventually he exited to find Alicia fuming on the living room sofa.

“What was that all about?” he demanded.

“Shut up,” she told him.

He started to open his mouth to defy her.

“I said ’shut up’. I’m going to explain something and I only intend to say it once.” She paused, giving him a chance for back talk, but he simply nodded. “Good. You can follow directions. Harry, you’re used to having everything your way, but that’s not how I work.”

“I know,” he said. “I-”

“SHUT UP.” She glared at him.

Harold’s eyes flashed at her, but he closed his mouth.

“I’m not like the other girls you’ve gone out with over the years,” she told him. “And I think that means I’m exactly what you need. And I like you.”

She paused, considering her next words.

“Until you’re ready to submit to my will — on anything and everything I demand — I don’t want to see you. Do you understand?”

“No,” he said simply.

“Leave,” she said. “Go home. Think about it.”

She pointed to the door, ignoring Harold’s protests. Eventually, he shambled out the door, closing it quietly.

Harold didn’t call the next day, or the day after. When two days pushed it to a week, Alicia was sure she’d seen the last of him. The next day, he called her cell phone. She checked the number and didn’t answer.

He left a simple message, “It’s Harold.”

“Harry,” she said into the phone futilely.

“Call me. We need to talk.”

“No we don’t,” she said, knowing he couldn’t hear.

Harold left messages each of the next two days, then stopped calling.

“You drove him away,” Teresa told her.

—

There was a knock at the apartment door. Teresa answered it. “Hello, Harold.”

He was holding flowers. “Is she here?”

“Those won’t change her mind,” she told him.

“I know,” he said. “They’re for you.” He handed them to her.

Dumbfounded, she said, “Thank you. I need to go. Can you put them in water for me? Vase in the kitchen.” She handed the flowers back to him, then grabbed her purse and stepped past him.

Harold moved into the apartment, closing the door. He moved to the kitchen, found a vase and began arranging the flowers.

He heard a door open. “Who was at the door?” said Alicia before she stepped into the kitchen.

She froze in the doorway.

“White roses? Interesting color choice,” she said.

“I thought Teresa would like them.”

She arched an eyebrow in question, but Harold was focused on arranging the flowers.

“You have to cut the stems,” she told him. She moved into the kitchen, found a knife, and began to help him. “Varying lengths works best.”

The two worked quietly for several minutes. When they were done, Alicia set the vase of flowers on the dining room table. “Those are nice,” she told him. She cocked her head. “In the future, if you get a few extra greens, you can help fill them in better.”

Harold nodded. “Next time, I’ll remember that.”

She turned to look at him. “Why did you bring Teresa flowers?”

He moved past her into the living room. She followed him, taking a place on the couch. Harold began to pace.

“You wouldn’t return my calls.”

“I figured if you couldn’t decide for 8 days, there probably was little reason to talk further.”

“Nothing you said made sense,” he told her. “It seemed like you wanted to treat me the way my father treats my mother. I love my mother, but I couldn’t live like that.”

“I’d never hurt you,” Alicia said.

Harold stared at her for a moment before responding. “This is hard. Could you just listen?” It was said softly, and Alicia nodded mutely.

“It didn’t make sense. Because-” he paused, struggling for words. “Because I like you. I don’t like my father. No one does.”

Alicia sat silently watching him as he paced around the room.

“I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about you, about what you said, running it over and over in my head. And I thought about the other times you’ve gotten your way with me, and how you always did it so playfully, how could I possibly ever say no?”

Alicia started to open her mouth, but Harold held up a hand, forestalling her.

“You were so angry, and all I did was try to touch you.” He looked at her. “You’re so beautiful, how could I not want to touch you? But it made you so angry when I tried.”

He continued his pacing. “I was sure I’d lost you, and I hadn’t even known I would have cared. I’ve never really cared very much in the past.”

He stopped pacing and looked at her again, staring into her eyes, pain evident on his face. “I wondered whether I’d find another woman as exciting as you.”

Alicia interrupted. “Are you sure you don’t find me exciting just because you realized you weren’t going to have me?”

“I thought about that, too,” he admitted. “But I realized the excitement was older than that. I thought about a lot of things. I thought about what my life would be like without you. And I thought about what it could be like with you. But in the end, I didn’t know what to do.”

He was standing over her, making her look up at him.

“Alicia,” he said sadly. “I don’t know what to do.”

Then, as an amazed Alicia looked on, he lowered himself to his knees in front of her, laying his head in her lap.

“But I hope you’ll tell me,” he said.

Open mouthed, Alicia stared at the top of his head. Then, slowly, she ran her fingers through his hair gently.

“Yes, Harry,” she said at last. “I’ll tell you.”