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Upstairs Downstairs Pt1: Femdom Fiction
Act I.
Act II.
Posted in -Fiction & Writting, Femdom Short Story
Tagged femdom fiction, lady of the manor, pussy licking, strapon fucking, subgirl
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In Blood Red ~ Pt11 Idolatry
In Blood Red
Art Photo Portraits of Dominant Women
The artist Ariel B turns her photographs into individual artworks. Gothic fairy tales, dances macabre, distant memories, otherness, otherworldliness, times gone by, death and decay are all preoccupations. In Blood Red is an ongoing project producing portraits of prodoms and dominant women, she says, dommes are the perfect subjects – creative, unique and exceptional individuals who deserve to be documented and memorialized through art. This series of images is loosely based around sexual deviance, supressed female belligerence and the divine sacred feminine.
Click on any image to see full screen version
Idolatry
See More of Ariel B’s Art Portraits
Part 1 ~ Defiance
Part 2 ~ Divine
Part 3 ~ Fairytales
Part 4 ~ Deadly Women
Part 5 ~ Latex Glamour
Part 6 ~ Beautiful Hellions
Part 7 ~ Bewitched
Part 8 ~ Mean Queens
Part 9 ~ Dominant Dreams
Part 10 ~ Atomic Doms
Part 11 ~ Idolatry
Posted in -Fetish Art, InBloodRed, Miss Suzanna Maxwell, Miss Vivienne lAmour, Miss Zara DuRose, Mistress Amrita
Tagged fetish art
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Richard Has A Change Of Life: Femdom Fiction
Richard Has A Change Of Life
It was a bright hot summer’s morning in June. Although it was only 7.30am the temperature was already beginning to rise and the clear blue sky above signalled the likelihood of another scorching day.
Richard Pemberton strode purposefully along the pedestrianised road in the city centre. It was early so there was no-one else about yet but Richard was a man on a mission. He worked for a large firm of insurance brokers and yesterday he had been called into the senior director’s office to be told that he was to be made the new chief area co-ordinator. This was his third promotion in just eighteen months and at the age of twenty eight life was good. A new girlfriend, another pay increase, a company car soon to be his, there was no doubt about it he was on the fast track. But hell, he deserved it, he had worked his butt off since joining the company and it was about time he reaped the rewards. An early start today would demonstrate his commitment. He whistled contentedly as he walked along, gazing into the shop windows.
About fifty metres ahead there was a bench which was situated in the middle of the concourse. Richard could see a girl sitting on it, she had long blonde hair and was wearing a white cotton t-shirt together with what he judged to be a pair of cut-off jeans. He judged her to be probably in her late teens and as he came nearer he was struck by the girl’s long and very shapely legs. She was almost as good looking as his girlfriend and he wondered what she was doing here at this time in the morning.
It was at that moment that she slightly inclined her head and for the first time Richard gazed upon her angelic face. Whoa! his mind screamed. All comparisons to his girlfriend had been forgotten. The girl had the most incredible eyes he had ever seen. They were a stunning emerald green and seemed to sparkle.
He had meant to say Good Morning but the words died in his throat as he passed her. His throat felt constricted and his breathing highly elevated. After walking for another twenty yards or so, Richard realised he just had to gaze upon that angelic countenance again. But how? He couldn’t just turn around and stare at her. She would think he was a creep. But he knew that if he kept on walking he would never see her again and he just couldn’t bear that. His mind raced furiously and then it came to him. About sixty or so yards back he had passed a post box. He could pretend he had forgotten to post a letter that would give him an excuse to walk back past her.
He stopped. “Oh damn”” he exclaimed, hoping he sounded convincing. He turned round and started walking back. As he passed the girl again, Richard pretended to nonchalantly gaze around, making sure he got a good look at her. He felt a thrill course through him as he caught sight of her beautiful features once more. She truly had the face of an angel. Her eyes, emerald green he had thought before, were actually a brilliant azure blue. She appeared not to have noticed him, her attention seemingly fixed on the shop window display opposite.
As he walked past her once more Richard felt his heart hammering in his chest, he seemed to need more air so was having to breathe through his mouth. He reached the post box and stood in font of it with his back to the girl. He couldn’t let her see that he didn’t actually have anything to post so maintaining his stance he raised his arm to the letterbox and pretended to post a letter.
Now he could walk back and sneak a final look at this stunning girl. He needed to look at those eyes one final time. Those incredible eyes that seemed to have imprinted themselves indelibly onto his brain. Perhaps he could even compose himself enough to wish her a good morning as he passed by. As he turned round and approached her once more he seemed to feel a slight heaviness in his legs. He shrugged it off. This was stupid. Why was he acting so idiotically? She was just a girl for pity’s sake, yes undeniably a beautiful girl, well, ok, a very, very beautiful girl , in fact the most beautiful girl he had ever seen…Richard breathed in hard and shook his head. His mind was babbling. What on earth was wrong with him? It was time to act like a man. He would look at her, smile, wish her a very good morning and then coolly walk on.
He was almost upon her now and turned his head to look at her. To his shock she was staring right at him. Trying to recover himself he opened his mouth to speak but then it registered that her eyes were green again. Hadn’t they been blue before? How could they keep changing colour? They must have been green all along, and what a beautiful deep green. So rich. He felt himself drifting and then falling. Soon all he was aware of was his own deep breathing as he stood there transfixed by the hypnotic beauty of the girl’s eyes.
Suddenly she spoke and he snapped out of his stupor with a start. How long had he been standing there?
“Your name?” she snapped. “Richard,” he replied.
“Surname?”. “Pemberton.”
“Annual income.” “£40,000.”
“Credit card limit?”
“Seven thou-, W-w-wait a minute” Richard gasped shaking his head vigorously. He couldn’t believe it. Who did she think she was, asking him such personal questions? She had actually asked him what his annual salary was. Even worse he had blurted it out without thinking. Well he wouldn’t allow himself to be interrogated in this way. She might have the face of a goddess but her manners left a lot to be desired. However, he didn’t want to cause a scene and what’s more, he was a gentleman. He would just indulge in some brief social niceties and then be on his way.
“Yes, my name is Richard Pemberton. Good morning to you” he smiled offering his hand. “And may I enquire your name, young lady?”
The girl shifted her gaze, affecting total disinterest. She didn’t offer her hand or bother to reply to his question. Richard felt a surge of anger. Poor manners were one thing but this was just plain rudeness. He snorted. “Well have a nice day” he exclaimed sarcastically and strode off angrily. He had work to do and he had dallied here long enough.
He hadn’t even gone five strides when her voice rang out commandingly.
“Stop right there!”. He ground to a halt.
“I have not dismissed you from my presence, Richie dear. Walking off like that was so very rude and I cannot abide rudeness.”
Richard was outraged. He would not even turn to look at her.
“Firstly,” he hissed. “It’s Richard, not Richie. Secondly, you are the one who has displayed all the rudeness. Your manners are appalling and your demeanour is disagreeable. Quite frankly I have no more time to waste here. Goodbye!”
He went to move but before he could, she spoke again, this time her voice cooing seductively.
“But Richie. Surely it’s rude to sneak lecherous looks at innocent young women on public benches. Surely it’s creepy to pretend to use a post box just so that one can walk up and down ogling a sweet young woman. Wouldn’t you say, Richie?
Richard’s face flushed scarlet. How could she possibly have known? He felt ashamed. But really, he hadn’t been ogling. He had just looked. A perfectly natural urge, nothing unhealthy about it. And if she was so innocent why was there such a mocking tone in her voice?”
“And one more thing Richie” she purred. “You’re not going anywhere. I forbid you to take another step.”
Right, that was it. He’d had enough of this. Time to leave. He went to move his right leg and to his absolute horror found that he couldn’t. What was this? He felt a surge of panic and then an odd feeling in his chest. A kind of weakness quickly followed by butterflies in his stomach. Richard desperately strained to move his leg but it seemed to be stuck fast, in fact paralysed. He switched to the left leg but to his consternation it too would not move. A tinkle of mocking laughter sounded behind him.
“Try as hard as you can Richie. Put all your manly strength into it. But the harder you try the more you’ll be paralysed.”
Richard gritted his teeth and strained. He felt sweat pop out on his forehead as he tried with all his might to move his right leg. But he couldn’t move a muscle. He was well and truly tooted to the spot. What kind of witchery was this?”
“Now Richie, I think it’s time you turned to face me. Turn round Richie.”
He felt his legs and hips moving of their own accord. Now he was facing her once more.
“Now Richie, Be a good boy, come here.” She raised her right forefinger and he saw that it was slender and beautiful. Then she slowly beckoned to him and he felt his body shoot forward. She beckoned again and once more he was violently pulled forward. Once more she beckoned and the process was repeated. She winked slowly. Richard felt humiliated and very frightened.
At length he stood directly in front of the girl who was still seated in the same position she had been all along.
“W-what do you want” he stammered. “P-please. I just want to go to work.”
“Oh you’re going to be working alright Richie darling” she smiled. “Let me explain everything. I’m new to this area and unfortunately it wasn’t a viable proposition to bring my slaves with me. I had to leave them behind. The poor dears were heartbroken, you know. So the upshot of it all is that I’ve been looking for a fresh slave to start a new stable. And now I’ve found one. You, Richie dear.”
“W-what the hell are you talking about” Riched hissed. “Slaves? That sort of thing is illegal. I’ll report you to the police, this is outrageous…”
“Oh shut up Richie!” she interrupted harshly. “You’re being tedious. You should feel very honoured. I don’t just let anyone serve me, you know. I’m very fussy. Now I think it’s time to get going. I live about a mile from here. There’s a whole pile of dishes waiting to be cleaned and heaps of laundry. Not to mention the general housework. You’re going to be a very busy boy today.”
Richard couldn’t speak. He looked into her eyes. She was just so beautiful. The most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Surely the most beautiful girl in the whole world. Would it really be so bad to serve such an absolute goddess. She smiled and he felt a part of himself slipping away. No—ooo, this couldn’t be! With an almighty effort he resisted. If he didn’t somehow escape very soon he knew he would be lost.
“But what about my job?” he pleaded.
“You’ll just have to take a sickie today” she replied.
“But I’ll get the sack” he whimpered.
“For one sick day? I hardly think so Richie. Now, don’t worry. I’ll let you keep your job. A slave with no income is no good to me at all. I’m a girl with very expensive tastes, you know.” She winked at him mockingly. She turned away and delved into the bag she had beside her, seemingly searching for something.
This was his chance. She was distracted and it was now or never. He tried to move his legs but it was as if they were “superglued” to the pavement. But his arms were free. And his mobile phone was in his back pocket. If he could just dial his workplace and shout for help. It wasn’t even 8.00am yet but Peter would be there. Peter was always there. He grabbed the phone and furiously began to punch in the numbers. Come on. Almost there.
“Stop, Richie” he heard her cooing voice. Oh no. His finger hung just above the final digit. He tried desperately to lower it, he just had to hit that number. Straining like never before he concentrated with all his might. His finger moved fractionally, just a millimetre or two, then a bit more. “Come on. Please!” he groaned. And then just like that it was all over. All the strength left his arm and his finger hung in the air as if in suspended animation.
“I must say you’re quite a lot of fun Richie. It’s quite unusual for a man to be able to resist me as much as you have. In retrospect you’re going to have to take the whole week off work. I can see that I won’t be able to let you stray far until I’ve fully conditioned you. Now, give me that phone.”
She extended her palm and snapped her fingers. He gazed adoringly at her hand. Her fingers were so long and slender and beautiful. He sensed his own arm moving and felt utter defeat as he saw himself place the phone into her outstretched hand. Smiling she held the phone about six inches above her opened bag. Then her fingers parted, the phone dropped into the bag and she zipped it up in one quick motion.
“Just bear with me a moment Richie darling” she simpered as she produced a compact case and proceeded to apply her lipstick, all the while primping herself in the mirror. “A girl must always look her best, don’t you think so Richie?” she purred seductively.
Richard gazed at her in awe. She was just so heartstoppingly beautiful. How could any other woman even come close to her. He was breathing harshly again. God, he wanted to serve her. How could he ever have doubted it. She was right to demand servitude because she deserved it. And she had chosen him. A poor lowly male not fit to kiss the ground she walked on. How could he ever hope to be worthy of her?. But he would try! He would try so hard!
She had stood up and he could see that she was tall, about 5’9 to 5’10.
“I don’t even know your name” he murmured.
“My name is Ariel, but you will call me Goddess” she replied. “Now, follow me.” Suddenly he could move and he fell into line beside her.
“Stop” she exclaimed. She turned to face him and shockingly he felt the left hand side of his face explode. She had face-slapped him…and quite harshly. His cheek stung and burned.
“I said follow me” she snapped. “That means you walk behind me. Ten yards. No more, no less. Do I have to explain everything?”
“I’m sorry Goddess” he muttered. He stood looking down at the pavement, so ashamed that he could not meet her gaze.
“Now, let’s try again” she snapped.
She moved off striding confidently and Richard fell in behind her. As she walked he stared adoringly at her slowly swaying hips and beautiful shapely legs. Her lustrous blonde hair hung down to her waist and shimmered in the slight breeze. When he’d woken up that morning he’d been convinced that the world was his oyster, but now he knew his life had been changed forever.
by P
Posted in -Fiction & Writting, Femdom Short Story
Tagged enchantress, femdom fiction, mind control
3 Comments
Spank You Very Much: Basic CP Tips Pt1

Mistress Courtney plays an interesting CP game called ‘Spin’
Spank You Very Much: Basic CP Tips Pt1
What is CP?
Corporal punishment literally means ‘physical punishment of the body’. Historically, CP was most commonly administered either institutionally as part of a judicial sentence or school discipline, or domestically to correct servants and children. We no longer see fit to physically punish the body and have dispensed with it as a means to correct the wayward. However, many people still find this intense physical act and the theatre surrounding it incredibly erotic and sexually arousing.
For some people, CP is just a fun, pleasurable, erotic sensation that can be enjoyed as part of sexual foreplay. For others it is bound up within punishment fantasies characterised by some kind of power play where one person has to submit to the will of the other. Those with masochistic leanings enjoy it purely for the intense painful sensations it can produce. And lastly there are those for whom CP is one element in a much larger submissive fantasy or scenario.
A Basic CP Technique
Always warm the area to be beaten first. Build up the intensity of the slaps and strokes, even during the warm up. Do not always hit the same spot. Alter where you let the slaps or strokes fall. With bottoms, aim to cover the whole of the buttocks. Be aware that with right-handed dominants there is a tendency for the right cheek to get all the punishment (and vice versa for the left handed). Pace your strokes; for a spanking, you need to develop a nice constant rhythm. When using heavier implements, such as the cane or a single tail whip, give the recipient a chance to recover between strikes. Any implement that you use for CP can cause serious damage to someone, so it is your responsibility to know how to use it safely. Only use equipment you have some familiarity with. Practice first using a pillow. Understand how it handles and perfect your aim. When using implements, be accurate. Use soft practice shots to begin with to check your aim.
Always be aware where the tip of an implement is landing. There is nothing worse for the submissive than bending over for a good thrashing with a dominant that lets the tip overshoot. This will cause the implement to wrap around the hips or sides of the body. This will leave heavy marks all around the Sub’s body, cause excruciating pain (of the wrong kind) and result in a very disappointed Sub. A good Dominant will measure the stroke before delivering it and ensure that the tip of the implement lands just over three-quarters of the way across the surface of the furthest bottom cheek. (See Fig.1)
Some men often forget that, although they can take anything a woman can give them, it is not always the case that the woman can take anything the man cares to dish out. The obvious reason behind this is that women do not have the same upper body strength to give out a beating and they are often smaller in stature to receive punishment. So men, try to be aware of your own physical strength as you can beat far harder than is reasonable or necessary.

Princess Aurora knows how to take these special ladies in hand
Always buy and use proper and appropriate CP equipment. Much of the equipment from regular sex shops is rubbish. Try to buy good quality equipment from specialists; they can give good advice and will have a much wider range of implements. Never use any piece of equipment half-heartedly, because that actually makes it more painful. Just use it properly and not excessively.
Control what you give out. If you want to give a harder stroke, then give it, but be in
control – don’t let it be accidental. Practice tapping at the bottom and increasing the intensity, practice soft, medium and hard strokes. Don’t just thrash away without any thought to your technique and ability. Learn to use different pieces of equipment differently. There are parts of the body that should never be beaten, the head, the neck, the spine, the shins, any joints and the coccyx (the tail bone – found at the very base of the spine). The back can be a very erogenous place to beat but it is essential to avoid striking the spine directly and the kidneys – that is the area between the bottom of the ribcage and the pelvis. (See Fig.2)
You can beat the palms of the hands and the soles of the feet but be aware that both areas contain delicate bones which can easily be broken. You should, therefore, only use very light instruments for these areas and as both are full of nerve endings, even light instruments will have a very satisfactory effect.
Treat distinct parts of the body differently. The more fleshy an area the more punishment it can take. For example, the back is quite different from the buttocks. Different pieces of equipment are more suited to certain areas than others. It is also worth considering that people have different preferences, towards implements. This will affect their ability to receive punishment from them. Never thrash anyone excessively, beating is not a competition about force! As the dominant partner you need to determine what the Submissive can take. Judge from the colour of their bottom or flesh, from their reactions once you know them and most importantly from communicating with them. Ideally you can caress and rub the bottom or area being beaten during and after punishment.

Miss Woods, Miss Birch & Miss Harper are running a ‘Ladies Who Spank Men’ coffee morning
Remember pain is a relative concept and not a constant. It is something that can change from day to day. If the victim is tired, stressed or is a woman who is menstruating they will be far less able to handle the pain of a thrashing. So you can never be completely sure of what your play partner can take and must always monitor them closely.
Post Punishment
Once the punishment or scenario is over it can be nice for the Dom to offer to rub some kind of soothing cream into the Submissive’s sore bottom. I think the best creams are foot balms as they often contain cooling ingredients such as peppermint oil. You can even keep these lotions in the fridge so they are ice cold before you apply them. Dominants, remember you have the ability to give a pleasurable and erotic experience or you can put someone off CP for life.
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Posted in -Femdom Films News, -FemdomVR Virtual Reality
Tagged 3D VR, Femdom Virtual Reality, Femdom VR, Virtual Reality, VR, VR films
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The Altar of Submission: Femdom Fiction

From the film – Bang Blow Bitches featuring Miss Rebekah Dee, Mistress Nikki Whiplash & Mistress Sidonia
The Altar of Submission
The dungeon was dimly lit, its walls casting long shadows that danced in the glow of red neon light. The air was heavy with the scent of leather, latex, and the faint tang of anticipation. At the center of the room knelt Daniel, his head bowed, wrists bound behind his back with soft leather cuffs. His heart raced, not from fear, but from the electric thrill of surrender. Tonight, he belonged to them, three goddesses of dominance, each a vision of power in their chosen attire.
Mistress Raven stood to his left, her tall frame encased in gleaming black leather. The corset hugged her curves, and her thigh-high leather boots gleamed like polished obsidian, their sharp heels clicking against the floor as she circled him. Her dark eyes glinted with amusement, a riding crop dangling lazily from her hand. To his right was Mistress Sable, her outfit a shiny, reflective PVC catsuit that caught the light with every movement. The material clung to her like a second skin, accentuating her lithe form. Her knee-high PVC boots were adorned with silver buckles, and she carried herself with a playful cruelty, her lips curled into a knowing smirk. At the center stood Mistress Vesper, the embodiment of cruel seduction in a crimson latex catsuit that shimmered in the red light. Her stiletto boots, also latex, stretched up to her thighs, their glossy surface a stark contrast to the dungeon’s rough stone. She held a coiled whip in one hand, her gaze piercing through Daniel like a blade.
“Eyes down, pet,” Raven commanded, her voice smooth but firm. Daniel’s gaze dropped instantly to the floor, landing on the trio of boots before him. Each pair was a work of art, leather, PVC, latex, symbols of their authority. “You exist to serve us tonight,” she continued. “And you will begin with our boots.”
Sable stepped forward first, extending one PVC-clad foot.
“Lick,” she ordered, her tone sharp but tinged with delight. Daniel leaned forward, his lips brushing the cool, slick surface of her boot. The taste of polished PVC filled his senses as he kissed and licked, his tongue tracing the contours of the buckles. Sable hummed approvingly, running her fingers through his hair before tugging his head back.
“Good boy.”
Vesper was next, her latex boot nudging his chin upward.
“Worship properly,” she purred, her voice like velvet. Daniel pressed his lips to the glossy surface, the latex warm and smooth against his skin. He kissed reverently, his breath fogging the material as he worked his way up the arch of her boot. Vesper’s chuckle was low and sultry.
“Such devotion,” she mused, tapping his cheek with the tip of her whip.Raven’s leather boots came last, their rich, aromatic scent intoxicating. “Polish them with your tongue,” she commanded, her voice laced with steel. Daniel obeyed, his lips and tongue gliding over the supple leather, tasting her dominance. Raven watched him with a predatory gaze, her crop tapping rhythmically against her thigh.
“You’re nothing but our toy tonight,” she said, her words sinking into him like a brand. Satisfied with his worship, the three women stepped back, their boots gleaming from his efforts.
“Stand,” Vesper ordered. Daniel rose, his knees trembling slightly from the intensity of the moment. They led him to a St. Andrew’s cross in the corner of the dungeon, its dark wood polished to a shine. With practiced efficiency, they secured his wrists and ankles to the cross, his body spread-eagled and vulnerable.
Sable approached first, her fingers trailing over his chest.
“Such sensitive little nipples,” she teased, producing a pair of silver clamps. She fastened them to his skin, the sharp bite eliciting a gasp from Daniel. She twisted them gently, her PVC-clad fingers cool against his flushed skin.
“You like that, don’t you?” she whispered, her breath hot against his ear.
Raven joined her, her leather-clad form towering over him. She held a flogger, its tails swaying as she ran it lightly over his chest.
“Time to play,” she said, and with a flick of her wrist, the flogger struck his clamped nipples. The sting was sharp, mingling with the ache of the clamps, and Daniel’s breath hitched. Raven’s strikes were precise, each one drawing a soft moan from him as Sable toyed with the clamps, tugging and twisting.
Vesper, meanwhile, knelt before him, her latex-clad fingers working at the chastity cage that had confined him for days.
“You’ve been such a good boy,” she murmured, unlocking the device and freeing his straining erection. The cool air against his sensitive skin made him shudder.
“But freedom comes with a price.” She stood, retrieving a short, flexible whip from a nearby table. Without warning, she brought it down across his exposed cock, the sharp sting making him cry out. The pain was exquisite, a blend of torment and pleasure that left him trembling. Sable joined Vesper, producing a handful of clothespins.
“Let’s decorate him,” she said with a wicked grin. Together, they attached the pegs along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs and the base of his cock, each pinch a tiny burst of agony. Daniel’s breaths came in short gasps, his body alight with sensation as the women admired their work.
“Now,” Raven said, stepping back, “it’s time for the main event.”
Each woman donned a strap-on, their chosen tools gleaming in the red neon of the chamber. They circled him like predators, their boots clicking ominously. Vesper took the lead, positioning herself behind him.
“Relax, pet,” she whispered, her hands guiding him as she pressed the tip of her strap-on against him. With slow, deliberate care, she entered him, the stretch drawing a low moan from his lips. She moved with a steady rhythm, her latex-clad thighs brushing against his skin as she claimed him. Sable stepped in front of him, her strap-on level with his face.
“Open,” she commanded, and Daniel obeyed, his lips parting to take her in. She gripped his hair, guiding him as she thrust gently, the taste of silicone mingling with the lingering flavor of PVC from her boots.
“Such a good little slut,” she purred, her voice dripping with approval.
Raven watched, her eyes gleaming as she waited her turn. When Vesper stepped back, Raven took her place, her strap-on larger, more demanding. She entered him with a slow, relentless push, her leather-clad hands gripping his hips.
“Take it all,” she growled, her thrusts deep and commanding. Daniel’s moans were muffled by Sable’s strap-on, the dual sensations overwhelming him. Vesper, not to be outdone, leaned in close, she spat, her saliva landing on Sable’s strap cock, as Sable continued to thrust it into his mouth.
The three women moved in a synchronized dance of dominance, taking turns with their strap-ons, alternating between his mouth and his body. Daniel was lost in a haze of sensation, his world reduced to the rhythm of their movements, the sting of the pegs, the ache of the clamps, and the relentless pleasure of their control.
When they finally stepped back, Daniel was trembling, his body spent but alive with the afterglow of submission. The women removed the pegs and clamps, their touches gentle now, soothing the marks they’d left.
“You did well, pet,” Raven said, her voice softer now, almost tender. Sable and Vesper nodded, their expressions a mix of pride and satisfaction. As they unbound him from the cross, Daniel sank to his knees, overwhelmed by gratitude. The three women stood before him, their boots once again catching his eye. He bowed his head, pressing a final kiss to each pair, a silent vow to serve them again.
by pqr
Posted in -Fiction & Writting, Femdom Short Story
Tagged boot worship, CBT, femdom fiction, NT, strapon
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