Tracee wants to be treated as a princess so her boyfriend’s face serves as her throne.
Femdom Girlfriend by Chrissy Wild:
Femdom Girlfriend
Like in most relationships, my girlfriend was in charge.
That was a given, obviously. Modern life for a twenty-something male is very different than the life of a female the same age. When there is a couple, one serves the other, always. It is always the male who serves the female.
That’s the way it should be. But I never thought the service toward my beloved girlfriend Shanna would get so painful, and so humiliating. I watched, over the past two years, my beautiful blonde girlfriend, so petite and cute, become my merciless mistress.
On the outside, we still looked like a normal couple. Sure, she slapped me in public from time to time and spanked me in front of her friends, but other than that, we talked, had fun, went out to eat, went to the movies, went shopping (for her mostly), and all that, just like regular people.
But at home, things changed. She brought out the implements of torture. She said that I needed to be punished just for being a male, and that the Laws of Feminism dictated that all men must suffer for the sexist crimes they committed against females and the impending Gynocracy, over the millennia. I didn’t see how I was responsible for how men used to be sexist in the early 21st century and earlier. But I’m a man, and my opinion doesn’t matter.
It all started about two years ago, when Shanna’s friend told her about Female Led Relationships. Like I said, most relationships already were unspoken Female Led Relationships, but real FLR’s made it official: the Female reigned supreme. When Shanna told me she wanted an FLR, she basically was already leading the relationship.
By simply declaring, as a woman, that she wanted an FLR, she already had the power to do whatever she wanted. So, she wanted an FLR, and that was what we were going to have. As the male, in the relationship, I already had no say in the matter.
It was shocking, but a little erotic. My little girlfriend, several years younger than me, much smaller than me, was now my boss in every way. I went along with it.
Why wouldn’t I? Like any other guy, I was after one thing in the end: pussy. Women have always known the power of the pussy. Now, of course, the power of the pussy is codified in law. And women have rightfully been taking advantage of that natural power.
A typical night might be something like this: I would be watching the game, drinking a beer, doing typical manly things, when Shanna would come home with her friend Latasha, the one who told her about FLR’s in the first place.
“We’re watching ‘Housewives,’” Shanna would say, simply sitting down next to me on the couch and reaching for the remote.
“What?” I protested, “I’m watching the big game!”
“Not any more,” she said.
“But why do you get to chose?” I asked, visibly upset.
“Because I have the pussy.”
I couldn’t argue against that. I didn’t know what to say, but to stutter and search for some rebuke that just wasn’t there.
“Shh,” she said, changing the channel.
“What do you mean, ‘Shh’? I have 50 bucks riding on that game.”
“50 bucks you could have spent on Shanna,” Latasha said, sitting on the other side of me.
I normally wasn’t into black women, but damn, Latasha was hot. She was the same age as Shanna, and bossy and mean as hell. She would often beat the shit out of me if I gave her attitude, and Shanna would just watch, letting it happen. I never liked to give Latasha and lip. I wouldn’t have minded giving her my lips in another way if she ever let me eat her out, though. Superior, dominant women like Latasha should always be worshiped by men. They are the naturally superior women of the new era. I knew Latasha was teaching Shanna all about Female Superiority, and Female Supremacy and all that.
“Well, I guess” I said, frustrated about missing the game, and frustrated that I had to watch women’s shows just because my girlfriend and her friend said so, and I was frustrated that I couldn’t talk back to Latasha.
Latasha sat closer to me and stroked her long nails on my arm.
“Baby, you got off good,” she said. “For real, Shanna should slap you silly for even suggesting that she doesn’t watch her show. You know how goes, the women make the rules, and the men follow them.”
She was infuriating me, but she was so beautiful. Her face was so attractive, and her long nails and jewelry where giving me tingles as she scratched lightly up and down my arm. She probably liked to keep long, sharp fingernails to scratch men. She could probably open up a scrotum with ease, using those sharp, colorful nails.
If a woman did slice a man’s junk like that, there would be no repercussions for the woman. The law today is very clear: women have the power and they get to do what they want. If anything, if a man calls the authorities for a crime like that, it is usually the man who is taken away for questioning. What horrible thing did the man do to make a woman take such drastic and mutilating action? The man would usually be sentenced to harsh punishment for doing whatever it was that he did to make a woman angry.
“I know, Latasha,” I finally said, letting my anger subside. “I should have bought Shanna some jewelry instead of wasting it, and likely losing it on betting.”
“Damn straight,” Shanna said.
“You should be worshiping the ground she walks on,” Latasha said.
I simply agreed by nodding.
“Speaking of,” Shanna said. “My foot rub?”
Shanna leaned over on the arm of the couch and put her feet up on my lap. I turned toward her, and, keeping her feet on my crotch, I took her shoes off and her sweaty socks and started massaging her feet. It was natural for me to give my woman attention whenever I could. Her putting her feet in my lap triggered my natural male submissiveness. I went to work right away, massaging Shanna, and striving to take away the stress of her day. It was my duty to serve.
“You should worship the ground I walk on,” said Shanna.
She had such beautiful tiny, feminine feet, so smooth and free of callouses, from having a soft, female life. Her toenails were all painted, by me, a color that I call Femdom Pink.
The world of today is covered in femdom pink, pussy pink, all over the place. Blue has been replaced by pink, figuratively and literally. I love when Shanna sits on my face with her femdom pink panties, smothering me, and barely giving me air, or when she sits on my face bottomless, and I can see the back of her pink T-shirt that she wore to the gym, as she smothers me in her steamy hot sweat and filth of her delicious dirty pussy, and dirty, aromatic asshole, which I breath from, my nose pressed against the sweaty, dirty pink flesh.
“You could start by worshiping her feet,” suggested Latasha.
Latasha had her nails on the back of my neck at that point, stroking and lightly massaging my skin. She liked to suggest things in my relationship with Shanna. She liked to be behind me, ready to swat the back of my head when I said something stupid or looked like I was going to disagree or disobey Shanna.
She liked to watch me have sex with Shanna, which meant she sat on a chair in our bedroom and watched as I ate Shanna’s pussy, all night, sometimes, like a robot, giving Shanna orgasm after orgasm. She could lay there, never having to go the bathroom, as I ate her out, and licked her fluids.
Sex with Shanna used to be normal sex between men and women. We had occasional sex where I got to fuck her. But then more and more, Shanna wanted all the attention. She wanted me to eat her out, and lick her asshole while she fingered herself and played with her clit. I would sometimes lick and suck her clit for what seemed like hours. Rarely, Shanna would allow me to masturbate to finally shoot my load that had built up over the weeks.
Then came Latasha. The two met at college and became inseparable. I knew from the beginning that the two were lesbian lovers behind my back. I didn’t mind. I even encouraged it. I thought it was hot. And it was. I got to watch as Shanna would get fucked by a strap-on by Latasha, and how Latasha’s big black lips would work on Shanna’s clit and giver her louder orgasms than I ever could.
But Latasha started dictating things about my relationship with Shanna. She got Shanna to really believe in Female Supremacy. These days everyone knows that the female gender is superior to the male gender. That is even taught in school in the earliest of grades on up to college seniors, and it is well-accepted and agreed upon. Males are inferior to females for a million reasons and we accept it.
Female Supremacy, however, is not something that is around in society, yet, but may well come soon enough. That is when women totally dominate the Earth and whip and torture men, who are only used as objects, like seats, or only used for work, punching bags, or sometimes human dildos. Males would essentially be slaves from birth, and upon age 18 would be owned by a female who wants that particular male for her pleasure. It is a very extreme way of life, wonderful for females, and horrible for males. The future is likely to bring total Female Supremacy, we all know that. But for now, the Female Supremacists, like Latasha, are just an extreme subsection of feminism. More and more Female Supremacists are getting elected to Congress, almost a majority, actually, so we’ll see what the next years bring.
Meanwhile, my wonderful girlfriend, who used to be only slightly more superior to me, is now practically my Goddess, thanks to Latasha’s suggestions. I love my girlfriend, so I always go along with what she wants. And for now, it means she totally dominates me.
“You heard the woman,” said Shanna, pushing her pretty little feet into my crotch.
Shanna started lightly kicking with the heel of her foot into my balls. She kicked just enough to hurt me, but not enough to damage my balls. I grunted with each kick, which started to get harder and harder. Shanna smiled as she kept kicking my crotch.
Latasha reached around and boldly grabbed my erect penis, which was bulging in my pants.
“Good,” observed Latasha. “It’s good that your woman’s abuse arouses you. All males should love the treatment their women give them, no matter how cruel.”
I took the initiative. I wanted to worship those little white feet that were slowly destroying my balls. I carefully lifted one of Shanna’s feet up, and I crouched down to kiss the foot. I kissed the top of the foot first, slowly, and tenderly. I went down to her pink toenails, carefully kissing and licking her toes, starting with her big toe. I put my entire mouth on her big toe, sucking it, like I was sucking a tiny cock, moving my head up and down, letting my tongue carefully stroke all around the sides and bottom of her toe, making sure not to tickle her.
I licked in between my girlfriend’s beautiful toes, licking the little bit of lint that was stuck there from the socks and ingesting it. I liked to swallow whatever was on my woman: sweat, belly button lint, remnants of dried TP on her asshole. It was my duty to lick and worship all of her smelly parts, especially. It was good to clean her asshole with my tongue, especially after she returns from the bathroom. Otherwise, when she sits on my face to watch TV, or whatever, her butt in my face doesn’t smell so bad when I breathe through my nose in her ass crack.
I licked the bottom of Shanna’s foot. It was a little dirty from when she walked barefoot, from her shower, all over the bathroom floor, and to the kitchen earlier that day before she put on her socks. I happily licked all the dirt from her foot. I nibbled at any area of slightly dry skin, biting off the flecks of dead skin and swallowing them.
Shanna pushed her saliva-wet foot into my face, rubbing it all over my nose and cheeks and eyes, and forehead. This made Latasha laugh.
“Man’s proper place,” she mused. “Under the foot of woman. Get used to it.”
“Man trampled by woman,” said Shanna.
“The way it should be,” said Latasha, who had moved her hand back to my crotch to keep a hold of my erect cock. “She owns these,” she said, grabbing hold of my balls and lightly squeezing them.
“I know,” I said, into Shanna’s foot. “You are both my Goddesses.”
“You are a slave to all women,” Latasha reminded me. “Any female may order you to do anything she wishes, and you must obey. That’s not only in the total Female Supremacy society we’re headed towards, but right now, by law. You know that right?”
“Yes I do,” I said.
Latasha squeezed my crotch hard, stabbing her long nails through the fabric of my pants and almost crushing my balls, making me grunt loudly in pain. Latasha leaned in a whispered my ear softly.
“Is that how you address your Goddesses?” she asked.
“No ma’am,” I said, “I mean no, mistress. I should have said mistress, mistress.”
Shanna laughed at that.
“Very good,” said Latasha, loosening her grip. “Now, do slaves usually wear clothes?”
“No, mistress.”
“Then take off all your clothes.”
“Yes, mistress.”
I kissed Shanna’s foot and briefly looked at her to see if that’s what she wanted. She was my main mistress, my owner, essentially. She nodded, and I got up. I took off all my clothes, including my underwear. For a brief time I was embarrassed standing in front of two completely clothed women, naked, and with my rock-hard erection sticking straight out.
“Come here for your spanking,” said Shanna, sitting up straight, with her legs sticking out in front of her for me to lay on to be spanked.
“Yes, mistress,” I said, hesitating to move closer to her.
I was hesitating because, though I was used to Latasha seeing me naked, and doing things with me, even sitting on my face from time to time, she had never witnessed me receiving my girlfriend’s punishment.
Spanking is the most humiliating punishment a woman can give to her male, especially in the presence of his or her friends, like the situation I was presently in. While sitting on a man’s face and pushing her anus into a man’s nose ranks high in the overall most degrading things a female can to do to a male, as far as punishments go, spanking is the most degrading.
It doesn’t hurt as much as other punishments like caning, paddling or whipping, especially when my mistress used her hand, but there is a certain psychological sting that goes along with the physical sting. It is like regressing to a male’s younger self, being taught a lesson for being naughty, and being shown his proper place.
In this case, I hadn’t been naughty. I had simply been born a male, and deserved constant punishment from my female guardians. I took nightly spankings as a reminder of who I was. I was constantly under my girlfriend’s ass as a reminder of where I fit in life.
I glanced over to Latasha, who was sitting, smug and smiling, waiting for the show. My ass would be facing her. She would see my most vulnerable and intimate part, as I stuck my ass up and out, laying over my girlfriend’s legs. My bare asshole would point right at Latasha, who was known to surprise bent over men by inserting large lubed dildos and plugs in them, when they least expected it. Not to mention, she carried around a multiple-lashed whip, which she used on men’s naked asses whenever she saw them, exercising her natural right as a woman.
I made my way over to Shanna, and got on my knees and leaned forward over her legs, so I could steady myself on the other side of her with my hands and let my ass be in the middle of her, ready for her pleasure. I bent forward and stuck my ass out, as high as I could, wish slightly spread my cheeks and exposed my anus, for Latasha’s viewing pleasure.
“What do you think, Latasha, 30?” asked Shanna, as she sensually rubbed my tender, naked ass cheeks with her spanking hand.
“Better make it 40,” said Latasha. “Extra 10 for hesitating.”
Shanna wasted no time. She spanked me. Smack! The first spank never hurts. She spanked again, smack!, being sure to spank in the exact same spot on my butt cheek. She spanked again, and again, and again, each spank hurting more and more, starting to really sting. Latasha must have been enjoying herself, that bitch!
Smack sounds echoed off the walls, and could probably be heard out the windows to the public outside. It was a common thing, to witness or hear the spankings or whippings a woman gave to her man.
I counted in my head, with each stinging spank. My ass started to burn. My natural instinct was to run away, to get away from the pain. I wasn’t held down, after all. It was different when Latasha sat her black, naked ass on my face when Shanna whipped my stomach, for severe punishments. Then, I couldn’t move if I wanted to, with Latasha’s full, feminine weight, pressed on my face, practically smothering me. Being spanked, it was simply the natural thing to do, for a man to obey a woman and let her spank him.
My ass felt like hell-fire. I couldn’t help but imagine white, blue burning flames searing off the flesh of my ass cheek, as my woman spanked me. I wanted her to stop. I wanted to beg for forgiveness for being a male. I wanted to let my girlfriend know that I believed in total Female Supremacy, and that I knew that she was superior to me, simply for being female.
As she got to 40, she kept spanking! 45, 50, 55. I couldn’t believe it. But what could I say? Men are not permitted to speak out against their punishments. I couldn’t say anything, but take it. A woman does what she wants.
At last , I lost count, and mercifully, Shanna stopped.
“You may get up,” said Shanna.
“Yes, mistress. Thank you mistress,” I said, afraid to look around to see how purple my ass was, or to touch it.
“Now, let the guest spank you,” said Shanna.
What?! My eyes bulged out of my head as I looked at Latasha, who sat like Shanna, ready to spank. She lightly patted her thigh, indicating for me to bend over on her.
“My turn, boy,” Latasha said, with her sexy evil smile.
Life as a male is painful!
John was always an independent person. He was tough, opinionated, and masculine. He was in control of his life, as well as his relationships. So when he had a terrible accident and ended up in the hospital in a full body cast, and found himself unable to move and out of complete control, he was in constant torment.
Nurses had to do everything for him, including eating, bathing and helping him relieve himself. It was humiliating and emasculating. Even his girlfriend would stop by once in a while to read him his mail and help the nurses out with brushing his teeth or washing his hair, or any of a number of menial tasks. This lack of control and utter dependence on other people was something new and very unwelcome to John.
“Light’s out,” the nurse said as she turned off John’s TV.
“But it’s only 9 o’clock,” protested John. “I have a bunch of things to watch.”
He laid there with his arms sticking straight out, and legs spread apart. The cast covered almost his whole body except for his head. He lay there motionless and powerless all day and every day.
“Now, what did we say about talking back?” the nurse asked John.
She was stunningly beautiful with long blonde hair and a slender body and nice tits. John hadn’t had sexual release for weeks, since before the accident. The nurses had access to his genitals through a hole in his cast and it took everything in his limited power to keep from getting a raging erection when they gave him his sponge bath.
“You said I should never talk back to someone who changes my bedpan,” said John, sheepishly.
“That’s right,” said the nurse, walking up toward John’s head. “I keep you nice and clean, so you don’t get all stinky and nasty. Right?” She tapped his nose with her finger and smiled. “You have to do as I say.”
“Okay,” said John.
He really detested the way the nurse talked down to him and the way she didn’t treat him like he was an adult. Normally he would have told this bitch off already, but she had him by the balls. He hated it.
The nurse leaned over John to reach for the drawstring that turned out his light. She leaned so much over John and so close to him that her tits were right in his face. He could see right down her shirt, which was unbuttoned at the top, to see her amazing cleavage. She loved to tease John. She seemed to love to make guys sexually frustrated.
“Nighty night,” the nurse said, leaving.
John watched her as she went. He would be dreaming about those tits and the way her wonderfully shaped ass looked in her scrubs. It was painful for John to sexually desire someone who was so horrible to him. He hated the way she treated him, but he was so intensely horny, he just wanted to worship the young nurse and her wonderful body.
“Cunt,” John muttered, well under his breath, and long after the nurse shut the door to his room.
As mean as she was to him, he was starting to get aroused. There was nothing more frustrating to John than to be aroused, and not being able to do anything about it. It was much worse than not being able to watch the late shows. The whole point of the casts was that he couldn’t move, so he couldn’t even move his hips to try to hump the blankets.
Suddenly he wished his girlfriend was there with him. She could at least give him a handjob to ease his sexual tension that had been building up steadily for almost a month. He would settle for that bitch nurse giving him release. It was the least she could do, the way she treated him. Didn’t she know how frustrating John’s situation was? In truth, she probably liked him just the way he was, powerless and completely dominated. As expected, John fell asleep thinking about the nurse and her beautiful tits and ass.
“Wakey wakey!” the nurse said loudly as she turned on the lights.
“What time is it? It feels early,” John said as he struggled to adjust to the light in the room at such an early hour.
“5 A.M.,” the nurse said. “Time for your sponge bath. I know it’s early but I want to end my shift so I can get out of here.”
The nurse filled a small bucket with warm water, which she brought and placed next to the hospital bed. She removed the thin cloth that covered John’s crotch.
“Well, look at that,” the nurse said. “Somebody certainly rose to the occasion.”
John was horrified that the nurse exposed his morning wood like that, and was now staring at his rock-hard dick, which stuck out of the cast’s crotch hole.
“This will be quick as usual,” said the nurse. “Seeing that there isn’t much of you exposed to wash, including that little thing.”
She pointed to his dick. John just kept his eyes shut and tried to think of anything else besides this hot, insulting nurse who was about to wash his hard dick. The nurse wet the sponge and began at John’s feet, quickly scrubbing them before moving on to his hands.
“Now I have to wash your naughty bits,” said the nurse. “And looks like they are still being quite naughty.”
John’s dick wasn’t getting soft any time soon, especially considering the attention it was about to get.
“It’s difficult to get to your cock, balls, and asshole, so I hope you don’t mind me sitting up on the bed,” said the nurse as she put her knee up on the bed between John’s spread legs and then hopped up onto the mattress.
The nurse got on her knees and moved very close to John’s crotch. She got the sponge wet and started at John’s asshole, caressing it with the warm sponge. Then she moved to his balls, which she scrubbed much less gently than John would have wanted.
When she got to his erect shaft, the nurse got more gentle with her washing, enveloping his dick with the sponge, and stroking it up and down. The soft, warm and wet sponge felt fantastic on John’s penis. The nurse used the sponge to wash up and down, and all around John’s dick, washing all over the sensitive areas, like the dick head and the skin on the underside of the shaft.
“Oh my God,” John said, clenching his teeth.
“What?” asked the nurse. “You’re not going to make a mess, are you?”
She began to increase the speed of her washing, masturbating him with the sponge. She was squeezing him tighter and jerking up and down at a quicker pace, all the while enjoying the tormented look on John’s face. His breathing picked up along with her pace.
As John started breathing more heavily and he began to lowly moan, the nurse stopped abruptly.
“All done,” she said, crawling back off the bed.
“Are you kidding me?” John asked, frustrated that he almost achieved a much-needed orgasm and release, but was stopped just short of ejaculating.
“A little case of blue balls will do you good,” the nurse said, dumping the bucket out in the sink. “See you tonight.”
She left to end her shift, leaving John on the bed in great pain. He desperately needed to cum.
The nurse stepped back in the room.
“Oh, and call me a cunt again, and I’ll smother you with it. Bye, sweetie.”
He remembered calling her a cunt under his breath, or at least what he thought was under his breath. For a second, he felt bad calling her that until he realized that he was absolutely right. She was a horrible cunt, and he just wanted to call her that again to her face. But he wouldn’t dare.
All day John felt like he needed sexual release. He was horny and his balls ached. Finally, when the day shift turned to the night shift, the blonde nurse returned to work. He had been daydreaming that she would return to work on his junk.
To his disappointment, the nurse largely ignored him and went about her usual nurse duties, making no reference to the almost erotic sponge bath that morning. When most of the day nurses had gone home, and visiting hours were over, the floor got quiet. The nurse came in and shut the door.
“It’s time for me to fulfill a promise,” the nurse said, coming up to John’s bed.
“Yeah?” John said in an excited voice. His dick was already hard, and he waited for the promise of sexual release that was left unfulfilled by the premature end to the handjob earlier that day.
“Yeah,” she said, climbing up onto the bed once again. “I promised I’d smother you with my cunt if you called me a cunt again.”
“But…” John said, confused. “I didn’t. I swear.”
“Tell that to the cunt,” the nurse said, carefully climbing over John’s body to bring her pussy right up to John’s face.
She put her knees past John’s head so her pussy hovered right over his helpless face. Then she slowly sat down on his face, almost completely covering it. She sat her full weight down on John’s face, blocking his air with her pussy and ass. She held onto his hair to hold steady.
When John started making muffled noises into the nurse’s pussy and started trying to move his head, the nurse realized he needed air. His chest was heaving.
“What was that?” she asked, looking down on him. “I can’t hear you?”
“Mmmm-hmmmm-mm,” John hummed into the nurse’s vagina.
The nurse eased off of John’s face and got on her knees. John gasped quickly for fresh air.
“You look a little warm,” she said down to him. “Can’t stand the heat?”
“I’m sorry,” John said, out of breath.
“I know you’re a sorry sack of shit,” the nurse said. “What else is new?”
“I’m sorry I called you a cunt.”
“You like my cunt?”
John didn’t know how to answer. The nurse sat back down on his face, leaving his eyes to be able to look up at her from between her legs. She leaned back just enough so John’s nostrils could get a little air, but still pressed up against her scrubs and her crotch.
“I said, ‘you like my cunt?’”
“Mm-hmm,” John muttered.
“Breathe it in,” she said. “You like to smell my pussy?”
She leaned back further, putting one hand on John’s chest cast.
“Yes,” said John.
“Yes, what?”
She squeezed his hair with her other hand, so some of it was getting painfully pulled.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“Good,” she said. “It’s time you showed some respect.”
She got up on her knees and moved them around so she was facing John’s feet, with her knees on either side of his torso.
“I’m supposed to be doing physical therapy with you for the next two hours, but I feel like watching TV. Just to make sure you keep your mouth shut, I’m going to watch the TV the whole two hours while sitting on your face. Okay?”
Before John could answer, the nurse sat her ass down on his face, so his nose was in her ass crack. She sat her full weight down, which painfully pushed John’s head into his pillow. The nurse wiggled her ass and adjusted so she could hear his breathing through his nose.
“Now you can smell my ass,” she said. “Get used to it.”
She picked up the remote control and switched on the TV. She tuned it to a romantic comedy that was playing. John always hated “chick flicks” and refused to allow his girlfriend to watch them. But now he had no choice but to listen to the whole movie under the nurse’s ass. He couldn’t move because of the casts, but now especially because this beautiful ass was sitting on his face, nearly smothering him. He definitely couldn’t say anything.
John laid there for the whole two hours while breathing heavily out of his nostrils, and breathing in the aromas of the nurse’s pussy and ass. He wasn’t quite sure what the nurse meant by ‘get used to it.’
Soon he would learn. Every night for the rest of his time in the hospital, John had to endure the nurse sitting on his face. In between her nurse’s duties, she would come into his room and sit on his face. He learned he could sleep with his face in her ass crack. He would dream about ass and wake up to it, dominating his world.
After a few weeks of this routine, the nurse became good friend’s with John’s girlfriend. His girlfriend eventually told him that things were going to be very different from then on.
The nurse had educated John’s girlfriend on the joys of a female-led relationship. The girlfriend complained to the nurse that John would often try to control her and shut her up and complain about her. The nurse told her that all she had to do was sit on John’s face whenever John wasn’t doing the housework, and she’d never have to deal with his back-talk again.
John used to be a control freak. Now, he would have no choice but to listen patiently to everything his girlfriend said to him. Because he used to try to control his relationship and his girlfriend too much, he was about to lose complete control of everything, including his own freedom to move or speak.
John’s girlfriend owed a great deal of gratitude to the nurse for teaching her the ways of female domination at the home. When John was finally discharged from the hospital, his girlfriend invited the nurse over, and they started a long friendship, complete with sharing the boyfriend facesitting and punishment duties.
Now John has total respect for women, and calls them ‘ma’am,’ and says ‘yes ma’am,’ and ‘no ma’am,’ when he ever gets to speak at all.
The future is now, and it belongs to females.
The year is 2100 and for almost 100 years, women reign supreme over the whole world and males are objects and playthings. It is inconceivable that males would disobey even the strangest, most humiliating of orders given by a female. Males of the future have given themselves mind, body, and eternal soul to the superior gender.
“Did you bring your males?” said the ditsy and beautiful Amber to her fellow college student, Cindy, as she let her in her dorm room.
“Yeah, I have them,” said Cindy. “They’re in my backpack.”
“Awesome,” said Amber. “I can’t wait to try them out.”
Fantastic technological advances made by the female scientists of the late 21st century have made it so any female may shrink a male of her choosing, and use him for whatever they want. Most women shrink them to use as living human dildos.
Cindy sat on Amber’s bed and opened her pink backpack. She turned it upside down and dumped its contents on the bed: ten miniature adult men, ranging in height from one inch tall to about 10 inches. They stumbled, naked, out of the backpack on laid on the bed.
“O.M.G.! They’re so cute,” said Amber, clapping her hands.
Amber wanted to use Cindy’s new males right away. She stood and dropped her tight shorts, leaving on just a tight pink top, and the socks she wore to the gym that day. Since all women are lesbians, Cindy licked her lips as she checked out Amber’s wide, round ass.
“I don’t know which to try first,” said Amber.
“Try the big one,” said Cindy. “He’s too big to insert, but if you lay him down, you can sit on him.”
Cindy grabbed the helpless male and laid him down flat, face up. The male complied and awaited his fate. Amber climbed up on the bed and positioned herself above the tiny male.
“Males are made to hold their breath for a while,” said Cindy. “But don’t suffocate him. I want to get some use of these little guys before I throw them away.”
“’Kay,” said Amber in a high, feminine voice.
Amber slowly sat on the man, her pussy lips almost entirely enveloping the man’s torso, leaving only his head uncrushed by her voluptuous ass.
“Oooh, I can feel his little breath on my asshole,” said Amber. Her anus was enveloping the man’s entire head.
“Must be quite a smell,” joked Cindy.
“No way!” said Amber, lightly smacking her friend on the arm. “I took a shower yesterday.”
“Yeah, before you went to class all day, and then the gym.”
“He’s lucky smelling a female so close,” said Amber, sitting back so the tiny male’s head almost disappeared into her anus. Only his nose was able to breathe frantically. “You’re so lucky, aren’t you?”
Amber started rocking her hips from side to side, rolling the miniature man. Her blonde pigtails tossed back and forth as she moved. All the other little men laid there and watched.
While still watching Amber’s beautiful ass cheeks completely dominate the little male, Cindy grabbed the tiniest man, the one inch man. The man straightened his body as best he could as she picked him up. She put the entire male’s body in her mouth and lightly sucked on his tiny naked body, holding onto his feet. She popped him out of her big, wet lips with a pop. The man was totally covered in sticky spit. The slobber dripped off his little mouth and he was able to breathe.
He knew what was coming, so he took giant breaths and held his breath as Cindy lowered him to her pussy. She pulled her shorts aside to expose her shaved pussy, which must have looked massive to the little man. She carefully inserted him completely inside, pushing him deep with her middle finger. Amber noticed.
“Did you just put that whole thing in your pussy?” Amber asked.
“Yep!” replied Cindy
“Is he going to breathe?”
“Not until I take him out.”
“You’re so cruel.”
“Relax,” said Cindy, looking down at her pussy. “He’ll let me know when he starts suffocating by moving around wildly. It feels amazing! I usually let him go around for a few minutes while I play with my clit.”
“I’ll take care of that,” said Amber.
“Wait a sec,” said Cindy, still. “There he goes. Oh, that feels so awesome.”
Amber leaned forward and started playing with Cindy, who started moaning. She rubbed her middle finger over Cindy’s clit, giving her several orgasms. After orgasming a few times, Cindy remembered her human dildo.
“Shit,” she said. “Sometimes I forget and leave them in.”
Cindy stuck her finger in her pussy and pulled out the tiny man, now drenched in pussy juices and not moving. She laid him on the bed next to the other men.
“Shit,” said Amber. “I think mine’s dead, too.”
Amber reached around to her asshole, leaned forward, and pulled the large man’s face out of her anus. Amber smiled, and covered her mouth in embarrassment.
“Oh my God, he’s dirty.”
“I told you you were nasty,” said Cindy.
“Shut up!” said Amber. “I killed him.”
“No you didn’t,” said Cindy, going back into her bag and pulling out a device which looked somewhat like a remote control. “Watch this.”
Cindy pushed a button and a zap of electricity hit the tiny man, and then the large man. To Amber’s surprise, both men started writhing and making facial expressions that showed their obvious torment.
“They just came out with this after too many men were getting killed,” said Cindy, showing off the object. “It makes them come back to life. But they’re going to be in unspeakable pain while their brains come slowly back to life. It’s okay. You just send them back in the boxes they came in and they go back to the factory. Then they send you back a model of the same size.”
“Neat,” said Amber. “So they can come back every time?”
“Yep,” said Cindy. “They can never die. They’ll just live forever performing their function for us. Even regular sized males can be brought back. They’re all eternally ours.”
“Sweet,” said Amber, grabbing another male.
It wasn’t always like this. It started in the 2020s when it became obvious that males and females were unequal and females were treated drastically different than males. Most of the world kept rolling along as usual, but bit by bit, gender roles and how the genders acted and were expected to act were changing.
Males were brought up to acknowledge the superiority of the females from birth. Not only could females hit and abuse males without the males being able to do anything about it, but the females were eventually completely untouchable by the law. If males ever dared to even talk about fighting back, they were thrown away for life in jail for attempting to bring back the old ways of sexism. Females started to take advantage of the new laws and there was nothing males could do about it.
It came to be that females were given preferential treatment when it came to college acceptance, to the point where no males were even accepted until there were exactly 0 female applicants. The idea was to allow for more women to enter the higher rungs of society and be CEO’s and doctors, and executives and vice presidents.
Eventually it became the norm for males to just go straight into blue collar jobs and skip the college. There were only women teachers teaching female students after a short while. To help the female students succeed in the world, males would actually be enrolled as assistants to them, so they could do their homework for the female students, and their laundry and anything else they wanted.
By 2025, males knew they couldn’t ever get into college and none of them tried. All students were eventually females who had males to do everything for them. The males had to do exactly as their superiors told them. This prepared both genders for the real world nicely.
Relationships were steadily changing. In the early days of the new world, a woman might go out on a date with a man. Of course, the man was always expected to open the superior’s door, pay for everything, and kiss his date’s ass literally and figuratively, even if the woman decides she doesn’t want the man in the end. The men begged for acceptance by the women, and it was up to the women to decide who she wanted as a servant/wallet.
It was law that any woman can instruct a man to lay on the floor, and she could sit on his face. This could be to humiliate a man, get him to shut up, use his tongue for clitoral/anal stimulation or for cleansing. Also, this move was used for total dominance.
If a man was out on a date with a woman and it seemed like he wasn’t ready or desiring of total submission and lifelong servitude for the woman, and the woman liked the man, all she had to do was tell him to lay down and she would sit on his face. She could smother him until he consented to becoming her eternal property. The men always consented. That was how most relationships started.
The marriage contracts were one-sided. They stipulated that all of the man’s assets would belong to the wife. It also stipulated that the man was pledging his soul to be the property of his wife for all time. Legally, the wife was completely responsible for the whole household, including the finances and all decisions. If a husband disagrees with anything the wife said, or failed to do a perfect job on all the cleaning and other chores, a wife is required to spank the husband, even in public if necessary. Also, she may grab his balls and punch or slap them until the husband realizes his mistakes. If he ever forgets his place in the marriage, he can be sent to a re-education camp where he will learn, painfully, his true place in society.
Eventually, men became obsolete. Women held all important positions in every part of society, and robots performed all the menial tasks. Men were simply left to pleasure the women. Since women preferred not to be penetrated, as that was degrading to them, men learned that all sex is cunnilingus and analingus. In sex education classes, nothing is ever mentioned of the penis at all. Because penises became useless, they began to shrink and devolve. The female scientists decided to engineer new generations of males to have permanently reduced penises. For the current men, all men over the age of 20 had their penises surgically reduced to only the glans for urination.
For a time, certain men were used for their sperm and had their prostates milked while they donated their sperm for the women to reproduce. Eventually the scientists began to simply puncture a man’s testicles from the outside with a syringe and extract the sperm that way. It was compulsory for all males to donate sperm this way.
By the end of the 21st century, all women were beautiful and had perfect bodies that stayed 20 to 25 years old for their whole lives, which, it seems, is immortal, thanks to science. The males are not immortal but they can be brought painfully back to life. In a way, they can never die, but live forever in the service of the supreme females.
It’s not all strife and hardship for the males. By age 20 males are considered men and they are all entered into a database and offered for sale by the world’s females, who also just became women at age 20. These newly empowered females get to pick one male, as long as he is available, to be her eternal servant. Only the males who have consented to a life + eternity service for the superior gender are in the database. At age 20, a male may choose to live underground with the robots and mutants to operate the machines of the world. This is also where all the unchosen men go.
It’s an easy decision for most young men. Sure, he might be shrunken or otherwise have his body modified to please his new female mistress, but he will certainly get to know her perfect pussy and perfect ass (all pussies and asses are perfect now), her pussy juices, and the aroma of her body odors, and rectum and bodily fluids and whatever else she chooses. That is worth living above ground for.
Amber was laying back on her bed, while she had a different tiny male in between each of her toes.
“Do they even hear us?” Amber asked.
“Of course,” said Cindy. “They used to be like regular humans, like females, I mean, with ears and eyes and even brains. I can’t imagine what they must be thinking. Who cares?”
“Lick my toes, males!” Amber shouted at the men between her toes.
The little men began licking their tiny tongues on her toes.
“Tell them to eat your toe-jam and calluses,” suggested Cindy.
“Eat the dirt under my nails and bite off the dead skin,” Amber ordered.
The men began to eat the gunk under her dirty toenails. Cindy could smell Amber’s feet from where she sat and for a moment tried to imagine what the men were smelling. Some of the men were so tiny that they struggled to bite off and consume the disgusting dead skin and calluses on Amber’s feet. But they were used to it.
While the men stayed in the education camps to learn their true place in female society, they all have to consume vast quantities of anything a female may want him to consume to prepare him for his future life. Women donate their soiled or dirty underwear for the new men to put in their mouths or wear over their faces while they are sedated, to let them know that the feminine smells are good. When the panties are removed, they are severely punished, to show them that the lack of female smells is bad.
By the time a female chooses a male, that specific female will send her dirty underwear along with other personal items to be used to psychologically modify the male to prefer her smells and tastes. By the end of the sessions, he would beg for the aroma of his future mistress, if only men talked.
“This one’s done,” said Cindy, pulling out the third man from her wet vagina and tossing him with the others. He was barely alive, but even if he wasn’t, it was an easy fix for Cindy to send him back to the factory for recharging.
“I’m crazy about these mini-guys,” said Amber. “I’ve had regular sized men. Their faces make good seats, and they do anything you tell them to and everything. But these guys are a lot of fun.”
“Yeah I know,” said Cindy. “They’re even making them microscopic, so they can be inhaled or swallowed and they survive like viruses. They could make it through the entire digestive tract of a woman, and come out alive. If they’re really, really small, they can get flushed out with all the rest of the waste through a pussy. What male wouldn’t want that?”
“I know. Everybody has it so good these days,” said Amber. “Men get to be inside our sweet pussies, and we get to fuck each other’s sweet pussies.”
“Life is good,” said Cindy, as she leaned in and kissed Amber. Both women made love while squirming males struggled inside their vaginas.
It was nice that the ship’s brig was full of captured males, thought Cadet Melissa. She knew that for the whole voyage to the edge of the Solar System and beyond, her little ass would never be cold, with all those male faces to chose from. They would make warm seats.
“Note to log,” Melissa said to the computer, “I’ve received a male distress signal just past Uranus. I’m taking her off autopilot, and warping to intercept and board the alien ship.”
Melissa pushed the autopilot button off, and leaned forward with the captain’s chair armrests to send the ship into warp speed. Her vessel was pink and shaped like the universal symbol for the female gender, which was also the symbol for the United Government of Mother Earth. The front of the vessel was shaped like the outer female anatomy. The vulva shape was the ship’s weapon bay, and it just started glowing hot pink as it was armed.
The ship shot into warp, racing to the space around Uranus, which was icy cold. Her anus, however, was beginning to get extra hot. The male who was strapped, face up, in her chair, to provide Melissa with a human seat warmer, breathed hot air straight from his nose directly into Melissa’s sweaty ass.
It used to be that Space Cadets, all female, would destroy male ships at first sight. Now, there have been a progressive number of young women who wanted to offer the extraterrestrial male refugees one chance at a new life on Earth or aboard the ships. The men could serve the women voluntarily in all things, including sexual, or be blasted into space dust. So far, it had been an easy decision.
The cadets considered the captive males to be aliens, because none of the women had lived in a time when men were welcome on Earth. Centuries before, the men had been enslaved at first, then banished. All of the world’s human males were skyrocketed to outer space and sent on long voyages to the Solar System’s outer reaches, to fend for themselves.
All species on Earth eventually were able to reproduce without the help of a male. Humans were born in tubes, engineered to be female and to grow up to be what humans at one time would have considered to be amazingly beautiful: always looking to be about 18 to 25 years old, slim wastes, large breasts, and large round asses.
The occasional accidental male birthing created a problem. The new female society had done away with executions because without men there was little crime, and almost no violent crime. So, instead of ending the birth or putting the male out of his misery, he was raised in secret underground facilities until he was 18 years old, then packed aboard top secret cargo ships, and sent toward the stars.
With robots performing manual labor and keeping the economy of the Earth afloat, females were free to live a life of decadence. They loved each other, and found one or two female mates to live with and raise a family with. Men had been obsolete for centuries. But there was one thing lacking in some of the women’s lives. Some of the women were natural sadists.
It’s a crime punishable by banishment to disrespect a woman, even by other women. So the idea of whipping a woman’s naked ass, beating her genitals, or sitting on her face until she almost suffocated was out of the question. Women had Goddess-given rights to do and get anything they wanted, and to never have to be bothered or hurt by anyone. Aliens, or males, however, had no such rights.
Most women were fine with having sex with other women. They had all been taught in their earliest sex education classes that sex meant cunnilingus, analingus, manual clitoral stimulation, the insertion of a Vibratron sex-bot, or just about anything else two women could do with each other.
Most of these women lived average lives and had no need for men, whatsoever. The more sadistic women, however, needed a release for their pent-up fetishistic desires. They needed male punching bags.
The men who had been reappearing, starving and half-dead from being adrift in the inner Solar System, intent on begging the women for help, would die for a woman if given the chance. The men were taught their whole lives that females had always been the superior gender, ever since the creation of the universe. They all believed it with a passion. They wished they could be back on Earth to be used by females in any capacity, even if it was to be abused physically and psychologically by beautiful and cruel women. As of late, some of them had been given this chance.
Cadet Melissa had been one of the pioneering young women to give some of these men a chance. She was in her final semester of the cadet program, which trained cadets to become full space fighters in the Space Force, a galactic space agency which kept the women of Earth safe from aliens and men. Modern women didn’t need to work a second of their precious lives, so these cadets were especially daring and adventurous, the kind of women who liked at least a little kink in their sex lives.
Since Melissa was in her final year, she was given free reign to choose her missions. She could fly her ship to intercept with male ships and take them prisoner, instead of destroying them, like the other cadets. Also, as a blonde, she was considered a superior among superiors, and was given powers to do anything she wanted, without consequence.
It made her so horny to think of what she would do with these pathetic males that she was creaming her pink government-issued panties.
Cadet Gina was elsewhere in the Solar System, somewhere in Saturn’s orbit. The green autopilot light was on and her feet were up on a console. She was leaning back in her chair reading an e-reader.
“Fascinating stuff,” said Gina, twirling her brunette hair, reading the tablet.
“What’s that, captain?” asked Cindy, the copilot.
“Promise not to tell anyone?”
“Of course.”
“It’s this history book being passed around among some of the captains. It goes all the way back to right before the United Government of Mother Earth began.”
“Before the U. G. M. E.? What was there before?”
“This is top secret, you know,” said Gina, giving Cindy a stern look. “They don’t teach this stuff in schools. You can’t tell anyone. I’d never let you eat or finger my pussy again if you told.”
“I promise. I pinky promise,” said Cindy, holding up her pinky and seductively wiggling it as if to mimic fingering Gina’s pussy.
“I believe you,” said Gina. “You’re insatiable when it comes to my snatch. ‘Kay, so, like, you’ve heard by now that aliens used to be called males, and they used to live on Mother Earth with us, right?”
“Yeah. I heard that. Freaky,” said Cindy, intrigued.
“I know. Anyway, there was a huge war. Like, huge. The whole planet almost blew up. The survivors blamed the men, who had actually run the planet leading up the war.”
“Those stupid little males? They ran the planet?”
“Women must have been really tolerant back then. But after the war, they had enough of the male ways and gangs of women killed almost all of the men. The remaining men begged not to be killed. They begged to be put to some use for the women. So the women let them live, in exchange for their manual labor and total servitude. The men cleaned up the rubble and rebuilt, under the supervision of the females. Palaces were built to house all the women of the world, while the men were kept chained in the sewers of the palaces.
“By the time the world was rebuilt, society had been reborn. Women ruled, and men served. They did everything for the women, and were their slaves. Some men were kept to breed the women, to create future women to run the society, and future men to slave for the women. It’s kind of gross, but that thing between their legs would enter a pussy, and then a baby would form inside the woman.”
“Wow. Thank Goddess we have birthing tubes now.”
“I know, right? Eventually the work-bots and sex-bots were invented, and scientists figured out to make it so babies could be born in tubes, and only female babies. By then, males were obsolete and unwanted. The males were all rounded up, were given permanent face plates so they couldn’t talk, and were sent to space.
“For the longest time, the birthing tubes incubated females, but then males would be born sometimes by mistake. These males were raised secretly, then shipped out on rocket ships. The males would usually be adrift in space, to suffocate or starve, but many of them made it to the asteroids and exo-planets past Pluto where the men were marooned. Next thing we know, they fixed their ships and have been trying to come back to Earth.”
“Did they really try to communicate?” asked Cindy.
“Yes. They can type our language on the communications system. By and large they’ve been begging to be returned to slavery on Earth. They want to serve women. For decades, the United Government kept those communications secret, and trained us Space Cadets to shoot first, and don’t ask questions later. Kill all males on sight, were their orders. And that’s how it’s been for a while.”
“But then cadets started using those males, for pleasure.”
“Exactly. Sadistic pleasure. Better than a sex-bot.”
“Have you used a male yet?”
“Fuck yeah. I’ve smothered them unconscious, and whipped them until they passed out from the pain. It gives me a thrill like none other seeing the fear in their pathetic male eyes. I love it.”
Gina slipped her hand down the front of her uniform pants.
“It’s making me horny just thinking about it. I can’t hold back!”
Gina threw the tablet, unbuttoned her pants and pulled her pants and panties down.
“Eat my pussy, cadet,” ordered Gina.
“Yes, captain,” said Cindy, enthusiastically lunging forward to munch on Gina’s pussy.
Cindy gave Gina several orgasms by the time the computer alert lights started blinking. Gina was in orgasmic bliss, but Cindy, still with her mouth on Gina, looked over to the view screen to see a flashing message.
“Captain?” asked Cindy into Gina’s pussy.
Gina grabbed the back of Cindy’s head and pulled Cindy’s face into her crotch.
“Captain Melissa,” said Jen, Melissa’s copilot, “We’re not far from the U.G.M.E. Ballcrusher, Gina’s ship.”
“That bitch,” said Melissa. “Is she in pursuit of the male ship?”
“Negative. They’re idle. Just past Saturn.”
“Probably eating each other out.”
“Wouldn’t doubt it. Didn’t you go to academy with Gina?”
“Yeah. We roomed together. I’ve tasted her pussy plenty, and she mine. But we had a falling out. Since then, we’ve been pretty competitive. I’m going to try to take the ship into hyper… hyperdrive… oooh.”
“You okay?”
“It’s licking my clit again. This male I had fitted in my seat.”
One of the captive males was on the floor in front of the captain’s chair with the back of his head resting on the seat. Melissa was sitting on the man’s face, pushing his head into the cushion, and leaving just enough air for the man to breathe through his nose. Melissa was bottomless so the man’s nose could nestle comfortably in her ass crack while his mouth was directly under her pussy.
“How does it even know how to do that?” asked Jen.
“I don’t know,” said Melissa. “All I know is that they are really eager to please. And more so when you have their face plate melted off. It’s like they think their tongues were made to please women.”
Melissa leaned forward off the man’s face and slapped the man’s cheeks violently twice.
“Knock it off! I’ll orgasm later. For now, keep your mouth shut.”
The defeated man lay motionless. His face was red from the slaps and glistening from Melissa’s sweat and juices. She sat down forcefully, making sure to completely cut off his air for a few moments to teach him a lesson. Even though his chest started heaving strongly, his arms lay by his side. He didn’t dare protest what a woman was doing to him, even if it meant killing him.
“That’s better,” said Melissa,” leaning forward again to let his nose suck in air from around her ass. “Taking her into hyperdrive to try to shoot past the Ballcrusher before we’re noticed. She’s not getting these males. All they’ll see are the tail lights of the U.G.M.E. Fem Supreme.”
Cindy was wiping her mouth and licking her lips when the ship’s alarm went off. Gina was in a post-orgasmic daze.
“What’s that?” Gina asked, still leaning back in her chair.
Gina got up and went over to her computer.
“Fast approaching ship,” said Cindy. “Damn she’s fast! Flew right past us. Warp speed.”
“Identify.”
“Just a sec’… It’s the Fem Supreme.”
“That blonde bitch! Heading?” said Gina, pulling up her pants, and sitting back in the captain’s chair.
“Uranus,” said Cindy.
“My anus? What, you want to get your tongue in there again?”
“No. But, yeah, but no… the planet Uranus!”
“Oh,” said Gina. “Revving her up to pursue. Computer, note it in the log.”
“Captain, that message we were receiving while I was… busy…. It’s a distress signal from an alien ship. Male scum.”
“Skipping prep procedures. Warping….”
“But the gravitational centrifugal inertia protect–”
“Better buckle up,” interrupted Gina, leaning the armrests forward to go into warp speed.
Gina was pushed back in her chair and Cindy flew to the back of the bridge as the ship raced toward the Fem Supreme.
“Ballcrusher in pursuit,” said Jen.
“Gaining on us?” asked Melissa.
“Uh…affirmative. Slowly gaining.”
“Fuck!” said Melissa. “Fuck! Fuck!”
Melissa was hopping her naked ass up and down onto the man’s face she was sitting on, nearly breaking his nose.
“But I’m blonde! They’re supposed to give us blondes the best things. That includes the fastest ships.”
“That’s true,” said Jen. “But, you know, non-blondes sometimes make up for it with brains.”
Melissa shot Jen a nasty look.
“But your beauty more than makes up for any ditziness. Blondes are naturally the most beautiful.”
Melissa was clearly pleased with Jen’s save. Jen was more of a “dirty” blonde and sometimes resorted to dying her hair more blonde. Everyone knew that naturally blonde women were the highest revered members of modern society.
“They’re pretty fast,” said Jen. “I really don’t know how they’re pulling this off.”
Melissa was so mad, she had to take out her frustration on something. She leaned over to grab her pants, took out her belt, and stood up. She mercilessly whipped the helpless male, back and forth across his face and chest.
“Fuck!” Melissa yelled, plopping her big, round ass back on the man, who sat silently through his excruciating pain.
“We’ll be near Uranus soon,” said Jen. “Speaking of “anuses,” Gina’s right up our ass. I’m getting a video call.”
“On viewer,” said Melissa.
Gina’s smiling face appeared on the large screen in front of Melissa.
“What have we here?” said Gina, “I’m impressed. Did you have your chair modified to put a male under you.”
“Yes, I did,” said Melissa. “Once we pick up these males, there won’t be a single chair on this ship without a helpless male face stuck in it.”
“Even the toilets?” asked Gina with an exaggerated disgusted look on her face.
“You have no idea how cruel I can be.”
“Oh, I know,” said Gina, with an angered look on her face. “Like when when you left me high and dry when I needed you most.”
“I left you? You cheated on me with that black bitch!”
“She was green!”
“Not the point. You cheated.”
“You said you wanted a threesome. We were working our way up to that.”
“You lying cunt!”
Both copilots tried to interrupt.
“Captain,” the two copilots said at once.
“Ladies, please,” said Jen. “Captain Melissa, we’re approaching the distress origin.”
“I’m beaming over there,” said Gina.
“Oh no you don’t! We’ll keep you out of range anyway.”
“Too late. You don’t know what a brunette can do when she’s motivated.”
Gina pressed a button, then disappeared in a swirl of pink lights. She reappeared in the same pink lights on the bridge of the Fem Supreme.
Melissa got off her male seat and approached Gina.
“These males are mine,” she said to Gina, up in her face.
Gina reached under and smacked Melissa’s naked pussy, grabbing it. She smacked it lightly twice, giving Melissa pleasure.
“I know you have a tight pussy,” she Gina, with her hand still on Melissa. “But you need to loosen up. There will be plenty of males to share.”
Gina let one of her fingers slowly slip into Melissa, who didn’t stop her. Gina took out her wet finger and put the finger in her own mouth and sucked it. She walked over to the captain’s chair.
“Look at that,” said Gina, looking down at the man. “He just can’t wait to have a female ass totally dominate his face.”
The man lay motionless, with his face, wet with sweat, facing up and awaiting the pleasure of the women. Gina walked in front of the chair, stepped over the man’s slender and emaciated body and sat her ass down on the man’s face, leaving his nose sticking into her ass, letting him breathe through the fabric of her uniform pants.
She wiggled her ass.
“I can get used to this,” she said.
“Approaching drifting vessel,” said Jen. “Slowing down. Ballcrusher following suit.”
Melissa walked over to the chair and spanked Gina’s ass.
“My ship, my chair,” she said.
“Fine,” said Gina, getting up. “But we’re sharing these men.”
Melissa rolled her eyes.
“I have visual,” said Jen.
Both captains answered in unison: “On screen.”
The captains looked at each other, annoyed.
On the screen was the bridge of the dilapidated cargo vessel. There were wires hanging loose, sparks flying, and smoke in the air. Several starving men, all with face plates bolted to their mouths, stood slouched in front of the screen.
“On your knees, male scum!” shouted Melissa.
All the men dropped down to their knees and lowered their faces.
“What do you have to say for your pathetic selves?” asked Gina.
One of the men leaned over to type on a communicator. Words appeared at the bottom of the screen.
“Your worshipful femaleness, we beg for your forgiveness for presenting ourselves to you. We have little water and no fuel. We can’t return to the asteroid, which has disintegrated, killing thousands of men. We beg to be your slaves. We’ll do anything. Anything at all, if you let us live and take us on board.”
“I’ll have you whipped to within an inch of your pathetic life for daring to ‘speak’ to me. The rest of you will be spared. Jen, beam them all aboard and have that one whipped until he passes out.”
“Aye, captain,” said Jen.
A pink cloud of lights appeared and six men were beamed onto the bridge, all bowing to their superiors. Jen walked up and grabbed the one who typed and took him away to be punished.
Both Melissa and Gina got up and approached the men, who lowered themselves even further to the floor as the women walked closer.
“Some of them have little sticks and dangly things between their legs, and some of them don’t,” observed Melissa.
“Some are clipped before they’re skyrocketed. Some aren’t,” said Gina.
“How do you know that? How do you know anything about these things?”
“I’m a non-blonde. I learn stuff.”
“Very funny.”
Melissa walked behind one of the kneeling men, leaned over, and grabbed his testicles. She squeezed, making the man groan in pain.
“When I squeeze these things really hard, they make noise from their mouths,” she said. “I think I can pop them if I squeeze really hard.”
The man yelled out in pain and fell to the floor.
“Cool,” said Melissa, standing up.
Melissa kicked the man in his damaged testicles. The man lay still, unconscious.
Gina walked in front of the group of men.
“You all have a choice. You can either agree to worship us and do everything we say, or you can go back to your ship and take your chances out there. Do any of you want to go back to the ship?”
None of the men moved or spoke.
“Good. Then by your silence, I accept your voluntary slavery for eternity. We now own your everlasting souls. When your flesh dies, your brain will be put into indestructible Vibratrons and sex-bots so you can serve women forever. While alive, we will sit on your faces, make you lick all of our dirty parts clean, make you into permanent furniture, and have you serve us in all ways imaginable.”
Jen returned dragging the man she whipped behind her. He was covered in bloody whip marks. She dropped him with the rest.
“They have consented to being our slaves,” said Gina.
“Awesome,” said Jen.
“Destroy their ship,” said Melissa.
Jen walked over to the weapons station and turned it on. At the front of the ship, the vulva-shaped laser bay warmed up, glowing bright pink. The lips opened to reveal a deep pink laser and torpedo bay. Jen pressed a button, firing a pink laser out of the hole, and into the male’s ship, destroying it with one hit.
“That’s the end of that,” said Gina, walking up to one male.
Gina grabbed the male’s arm and started dragging him away.
“Where are you taking that thing?” asked Melissa.
“I’m taking him to a bedroom to sit on his face.”
“No you won’t,” Melissa said, walking up to the man and slapping him on the face.
“Yes I will,” said Gina, also slapping the man.
“No!” Melissa said, slapping the man again.
“Yes!” Gina said, slapping the man.
The man stood and said nothing, allowing the women to fight over him. He knew they couldn’t hit each other by law, so of course he deserved their slaps.
“Captains,” said Jen. “Why don’t you both take turns sitting on his face? When you use that one up, come get another one. There’s always more.”
“Oh,” said Melissa. “Right.”
Melissa looked at Gina to see if this was agreeable to her.
“I’m okay with that,” said Gina.
“But I get to chose which males stay with me on this ship,” said Melissa, putting her hands on her hips.
“I’m going to chose. Because after we sit on this one’s face, I’m going to eat your blonde pussy all night long and drive you crazy. That’s why you’ll let me get first dibs.”
Melissa smiled at Gina.
“You bitch,” said Melissa.
“You know it,” said Gina, grabbing Melissa’s head and leaning in to kiss her passionately.
The two had a hot night of male face sitting and lesbian love making on piles of naked male prisoners. When they finally had enough of each other, the two captains left on their own ships and set course for the outer reaches of the Solar System toward Pluto. They knew that thousands of potential sex slaves awaited them there.
More femdom relationship erotica stories by Chrissy Wild