Just An Hour | FemDom Fantasy Fiction Erotic Story

Just An Hour – A FemDom Fantasy Story

It was just an hour from when I got her message to when I arrived. Just an hour. Now, looking back, it seems almost impossible that there was just an hour of intermission between my old life to my new reality.

I had to arrive early, as I knew that the preparations would take time. Once I was allowed in, my street clothes went in the doorside bin. The simple steel collar was all I was given to wear before being led, naked, to the guest bathroom.

Just An Hour - A FemDom Fantasy Story

Without going into too many details, I was to clean myself, inside and out, with processes that included an enema and a long steaming shower. My flesh felt soft and smooth, which made it all the more ready for my near complete shaving and the follow up moisturizer.

Feeling even more naked, I was led to the dressing room, where the pieces She’d chosen for me were laid out on the pink princess sheets. The lace panties fit me snugly, cupping my now bald genitals, and the stockings felt strangely luxurious as I rolled them up shaved legs.

She supervised as I tugged them to dangling garter belts, then assisted me in getting into the matching bra, cups filled with breast forms. Getting into the corset required even more of her help, and ended with me holding on to one of the bedposts as She laced it mercilessly. So tight, it gave me the beginnings of curves and held me to a stiff, straight posture. I had to hold on for support as she bent me forwards.

She pushed the back of my thong aside, and I felt the rounded tip of a lubricated plug worked into my ass, twisting until it was fully inside. I realized the plug was inflatable only when She started to pump it up, making me moan as it grew and grew inside me.

I was still coming to terms with that sensation, the bulb now dangling between my legs, as She began locking my cock into its plastic cage. She replaced the lace panties over my caged cock and plugged ass, and presented me with the finished touches to my uniform.

White lace gloves and a frilly lace-trimmed apron were the last bits of “clothing” granted to me.

Next, wide leather cuffs were locked onto my wrists and ankles and each pair were linked with short chains. A large ball gag filled my mouth.

She supported me as I stepped into the mercilessly tall heels She’d picked out. I worked to stay balanced as She locked them on. The leash She clipped to my collar allowed her to lead me more directly, and to give the added challenge of having to keep up to Her pace.

Out in the more open space of Her home, the exposure of my dress and predicament felt even more powerful, affecting my ability to concentrate. But concentrate I must, as Mistress was speaking, laying out Her expectations of my service and the require attention to detail.

The list of chores was long, without a single possible household chore that was left out. She signaled it was time to begin with her crop. The hobbling chain between my cuffed ankles allowed only very short, almost shuffling steps, as I made my way to the bathroom to start. Every motion required thought and planning, even just finding a way of getting down onto my knees without toppling over sideways.

It was not at all glamorous, scrubbing her toilet, her sink, her shower and tub and bathroom floor, with closely linked cuffed hands. The inflated plug was starting to make my ass ache, and the awareness of my own position and appearance as I served made me swell in the cage.

I was determined that everything be perfect, that not a spot be there to find once I was finished. In that way, the white gloves were helpful. The corset felt tight with every breath. The humiliating false breasts seemed to be in my way so often. My ass ached. My cock throbbed. But even with the satisfaction I felt upon finishing this one task, looking at the gleaming bathroom, I knew I was just getting started.

Each single task brought its own satisfaction. Each time She moved past to observe me working, each soft smile of approval made me tingle. The sensations only grew. Now and then She would approach me and give the plug a few more squeezes, inflating it even larger inside me. It was such a slow build up of sensations and emotions. The cage, hidden beneath pretty lingerie emasculated me so subtly.

Each time I caught sight of a mirror I could not escape the mixture of feminized sissy and humiliated man that looked sheepishly back at me. Alone I’d just feel silly and embarrassed but there was something in the way She looked at me, trapped this way for Her that electrified me. I’d lost count of the times my plug had been inflated, just feeling it so enormous inside me, something I was aware of with every motion. And though it seemed impossible to imagine at the start of the day, I found myself completing the last task on her list of household chores.

I knelt down and waiting for her next instruction. Once she’d finished the page of the book she was currently reading, she turned to me. With a few words, she enlightened me as to how she wished a light supper be prepared for her. I made my way to the kitchen to obey. It was simple and quick to prepare, even though the gag prevented me from taste testing any of the simple meal’s elements.

My heels clicked on the kitchen’s tile floor, as I carefully set her place at the table. I was ready to hold out her chair, but she stopped me. She led me to the arched doorway that separated her living and dining spaces, and I noticed the gleaming hardware for the first time. She removed the cuffs from my ankle cuffs, linking them now to the metal rings embedded in the baseboards, spreading my legs wide. Next, my wrists cuffs were freed from each other and drawn up to rings at head height on each side of me.

She removed the apron now, then tucked the front of the lace panties under my caged cock and balls. I moaned as she removed the cage. She efficiently wrapped the base of my cock and balls with the end of a length of rope, and dragged the free end to her chair. She sat upon her chair, slowly devouring the light meal, sipping her wine, while now and then tugging upon the rope she’d trussed me up with.

As I moaned around the gag and felt strings of saliva trail from my lower lip, I wondered how it was possible I could ache even more. She used time against me as expertly as she could a crop or bondage. I never knew when the next tug of the rope would come.

My cock, freed of the cage that had held it for hours, was hard and thick and throbbing. I blushed, realizing I was drooling from there too. The fake breasts strapped to me kept me from looking down, but I could feel and imagine just how I must look, bouncing and oozing.

She stood from her chair once she’d finished, but she still held the rope. She freed my wrists chains, only to relock them behind me. She supported me as she lowered me down to my knees. She removed the ball gag, but only long enough to replace it with another gag. The new one filled my mouth while also providing a base for a vibrating dildo to be mounted to. She switched it on with a wicked smile.

She ran her hands over herself, letting out a soft moan of her own, giving me the first true signal of her enjoyment of my use. I moaned, this time with mental anguish, as she slid her fingers through my hair in the process of blindfolding me, sinking me in darkness. I think the sensation on my shoulder was her laying her panties there, and I smelled the intoxicating arousal so powerfully.

What can I say but that she use made good use of the dildo, of my face, of my desperation. She rode the toy hard, tugging on the rope as well. The vibrating toy rattled what was left of my mind, and I was beyond the ability to think, as she grinded herself upon the jutting dildo. She tugged hard on the rope and screamed out as she finally allowed herself release, splashing around the dildo, soaking my chin.

She slid off the toy, wetly by the sound of it, and walked away, leaving me waiting in the dark. My aching body was matched my mental anguish. When She returned, finally, She left the blindfold on as she pushed my head down to lick clean the mess on the floor.

I was kept in the dark as She guided me back up onto my feet and removed the cuffs from my wrists and ankles. The blindfold even stayed on as she redressed me, or I should say dressed me, as I was given more clothing that I had worn serving Her.

Only once I was fully dressed, a mental daze enveloping me as she did so, was my blindfold removed. I blinked in the light. She’d chosen a simple but short and clingy dress for me. She’d refreshed my lipstick and put a blond wig on me as well. With the big fake breasts and the corset-provided curves, I might fool someone for a split second. I blushed at the sight of myself.

She called a uber for me using my phone, entering my home address in the app. Good thing, I thought, as she re-gagged my mouth.

She painted my lips the same shade as the ball gag, so it might take a second look to see it, at least I hoped so, blushing deeply. She led me down to the curb, and I avoided the gaze of the driver as she closed the door after giving me a kiss on the cheek.

I was about halfway home when I realized I was still plugged. A little farther when I reached down to confirm my cock had been caged again. It was just a few blocks from home when it fully dawned on me that I’d left my home in a man’s clothes, still in the bin in her foyer I supposed.

It was a heart-pounding, deep blush inducing trip from the curb, through the lobby, finding my keys in the small purse, up the elevator and home.

Piece by piece, I removed the individual pieces of my service, my humiliation, my sissification. Wig, gag, lingerie, heels, plug. I pondered myself in the shower, letting water fall over me, hands roaming over my newly smooth and hairless body.

Commanding the most powerful part of my mind, once I found it, was the tiny, gleaming lock on the chastity cage. I knew there was no key. Out of the shower, my mind already racing, I heard my phone ping. A message from her. Photos — of me. In my lingerie. In the dress. So many photos I didn’t remember her taking. With the last message was a close up of the cage, and a photo of her holding the key.

“I know I’ll be seeing you again soon, pet,” the message said. I could hear the glee in her voice, just reading those words.

I felt the truth of the words. I would be back again soon. And it would be much more than just the key to this cage that would draw me in. And it would take me much less than an hour to be ready.

– Edward Cantor

His Journey To Cocksucking FemDom Forced Bi Erotic Story

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About the author:

Edward Cantor is a semi-professional author of primarily fetish erotica and a submissive with too many kinks to count. He lives in Toronto, which is in Canada. All he really wants is a life dedicated to the pleasure and amusement of those he serves, and he got another fetish while you were reading this.
 
You can buy Window Shopping here or you can read his mix of personal musings and short fiction here.

2 COMMENTS

  1. It Is Very Nice When Great Friends Become Lovers! Most Of The Time She Makes The Move To Screw! She Was Sooo Thorough and He Was Soo Fucked ( Loving It) !

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