by Susan Strict
This second collection of short stories from Susan Strict takes the reader through territory familiar to many who have read this author’s previous stories, and beyond into new and exciting areas of femdom and more.
Cautionary tales abound, with more than a little dark humour. It may be somewhat unfortunate when a man’s fiancee turns up in the middle of a domination session and decides to take her revenge on him and his domme. It is undoubtedly rather risky to submit to an absentminded professional domme who can remember neither how long her sub has been restrained nor whether she has already done what he asked. As for attending a party knowing that all those present are female and have sadistic tendencies, surely no one in his right mind would agree to be there?
In this collection the theme of discovery of dominant tendencies plays a central role in several of the stories, with previously mild or even submissive girls finding their dominant side that invariably produces excitement they had never before imagined.
Ed: This collection contains an article at the end on female supremacy which is a REAL insight into the fact that the hand that rocks the cradle really does rule the world. Femdom lovers and haters alike – this is one story collection you ignore at your peril!
As she stood looking at him she ran her hands over herself, enjoying the silky feeling of the nightdress under the touch of her fingers and against her body as she pressed it to her. Yes, it was time to wake him, and time to disturb just a little the peace and the calm of the night. Now she saw him there was a growing need in her, a need that would not go away until she had satisfied it. Left unsatisfied, she knew it would grow into a compulsion that would shout at her from within and demand her attention until she could concentrate on nothing else.
She moved to the side of the bed, and carefully raising her nightdress above her knees she climbed onto the bed and knelt astride him.
Still he slept.
She adjusted her position until her legs were either side of his head, and letting the nightdress fall around him she slowly lowered herself onto his face. As she pressed down onto him she felt him move as he awoke and panicked.
He felt lips, tongues, teeth on his body. None were at his groin area, yet, where hands still fought for control. He felt the girls’ mouths tasting his skin, licking and sucking it between their lips. He felt them bite, not as if they intended to hurt but as if they tried to hang on when another girl was trying to move them to get her own mouth onto an exposed part of his body.
He tried to shout, to tell them to stop, to tell them they were hurting him, but still one or other of the girls covered his mouth under her and pushed herself onto his face.
“You like his body?” the voice hissed in her ear, “Eat it then.”
She grabbed Susan by the hair and pulled her head painfully upwards. With her other hand the girl grasped his hardness and forced it into Susan’s mouth. She tightened the rope and knotted it securely, pulling Susan’s head right down onto him and making it impossible for her to get him out of her mouth. The rope, already tight round her neck and almost choking her, would strangle her completely if she tried to raise her head.
“I wonder how much pain he likes,” said the girl softly, “And how you like pain.”