Dangerousangleofadream - Femdom

Missed court

My gut churned as the female police officer made her way out of the store toward her police vehicle. My throat was dry - I was more nervous than I’d ever been.

“Excuse me, Officer?” I managed with my suddenly-parched vocal cords.

She turned and smiled at me, very friendly and inviting. She was quite pretty, her police car was also visible in the background.

“What can I do for you sir?” She asked.

I was trembling. I was probably blushing with my nerves. “I need to ask a favor, Ma’am.”

“I’ll help if I can,” she told me.

“I was supposed to be in court yesterday for a traffic ticket and totally forgot about it,” I explained, still shaking. “Could you check to see if there is a warrant for me?”

“I can certainly help with that,” she said, still very friendly. “Please give me your identification.”

I handed her my driver’s license with trembling hands. She tucked it in her pocket and moved behind me.

“I need you to put your hands behind your back for me, sir,” she told me. “You’re awfully nervous and if there is a warrant, I don’t want you running. So I need to handcuff you and place you in my car while I run the warrant check.”

I suddenly wanted to run - what kind of mistake was I making here? - but I obeyed, and she handcuffed me, tightly, the clicks driving home that it was too late to turn back now.

She walked me to her car and placed me in the back seat. She didn’t close the door as she got out my driver’s license and raised her radio to her lips.

“Wait,” I said. “I don’t want you to check, Officer.”

“It’s too late for that, sir,” she said, still friendly. “You’ve done the right thing by checking for a warrant. I’m proud of you.”

She radioed my name and date of birth. I heard a female voice respond on the radio.

“Subject is wanted on a warrant for failure to appear.”

The female officer nodded. “10-4. Show me with one male in custody, en route to the jail.”

My heart sank. I wanted to cry. A crowd was gathering outside the store - witnesses to my humiliation.

“Step out for me, sir,” she said. I obeyed, and she placed me against the car. “Legs apart.”

I again obeyed. She searched me, a slow, methodical and comprehensive exploration of my clothing with her hands that was deeply humiliating. She then put me back in the car and belted me in place.

“It’s not the end of the world,” she told me. “I can see you’re regretting approaching me. But taking care of your warrant is the right thing to do. I know you don’t want to go to jail, but tomorrow a judge will see you and you can hopefully get this cleared up.”

She paused. “At this time it is my duty to inform you that you are now officially under arrest. I am taking you to jail. Do you have any questions?”

“No, Officer.”

She closed the door, and I watched her, miserable in the rear seat of her vehicle, walk around and get in the driver’s door. I was so ashamed, embarrassed, and humiliated, but it was too late for me now, I had turned myself in and been arrested by her, and was now her prisoner.

At Her Whim

It can come as a shock to many submissive men entering into a FLR, when they have to surrender all their own ideas of what submission is. There comes a point where her command and dominance, is all too real, and this can cause some nervousness, anxiety, and even the desire to retreat and pull away.

Unfortunately, these fears often win, and she never truly gets to experience his surrender to her. It takes a lot of strength to truly let go, and truly submit to her. Her version of dominance is not likely to match his version of submission to her. He must learn to bend and adapt to her way.

His sex life is no longer his own, he doesn't get any privacy in this regard, it's over. His sex life is forever determined by her. Every orgasm will be memorable, because it is initiated by her, and her alone. All pleasure he receives is meant to be throughly enjoyed, because she's allowing it. He doesn't get to control whether or not he gets a full release, or a ruined orgasm.... He should be thankful to even be allowed an erection and out of chastity. He can always cum in his cage by being milked with zero pleasure at all.

His pleasure is entirely hers to enjoy and dole out as she pleases, and it's never required. It's an act of kindness on her end. It doesn't even have to be simply because he was a good obedient boy, it doesn't have to be a reward. It can simply be because she wanted to play with him. He gets no say in it. Ever.

His pleasure is forever surrendered to her, that's the sacrifice of being her submissive. He gets exactly what she allows him to have, and she isn't obligated to allow him anything. He never knows what she will do, that's what his sex life has become.... Entirely hers to play with and own.

Sub's invest in yourselves, so that you can be of even greater value to her, by buying my new book, The Submissive's Journey available here!

Thinking about waking up a pretty boy in the middle of the night by slowly sliding my strap in him. Thrusting sooo slowly and carefully. Listening to his sleepy little moans and whimpers as he starts to wake up. Watching his eyes flutter open as he starts to realize what's happening.

"Shh...it's okay. You just look so pretty, baby...I couldn't help myself. Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'll be done soon..."

Strict and Stern, Firm and Fair #38-24

Mmm keep your legs up just like that baby!

When you’re edging him and he’s shaking and squirming and trying so hard to get away from you so he doesn’t cum without permission, but he’s so overwhelmed and doesn’t know what to do with his body that he’s cuddling into you for support at the same time.

A rant about unobtainable fantasies

I'm not really in the mood to make a caption right now, so instead, I decided I would just write a normal post, like a normal human being, ranting about the fact that there are so many fantasies I just wish the real life me would be cruel enough to actually pursue.

I don't know if that post would worth anything to anyone, if it'd be sexy for any of you, but I don't care, this is me, talking about myself. That is the peak of what could possibly interest little ole' narcissistic me ^-^

Empathy is a weird thing for a sadist to deal with. Because on one hand, I truly do derive my pleasure from dragging people through hurt and pain and a certain amount of agony, but the extremely empathetic parts of me make it so I can't really enjoy the deeper parts of my sadism. The parts that want to break a boy, make him -really- beg me to stop, make him cry but not for the game of it, real, actual tears of endless torment, the kind that he would never sign up for, but still can't resist agreeing to.

I'll give an example -

I have no problem admitting that I'm a good looking woman, finding people that would fall on their knees for my attention is... I wouldn't say natural, or anything, but not really a challenge. If I wanted to manipulate a poor boy into his own demise, which I so desperately do, it would be something I could, potentially, achieve.

It would be a challenge, don't get me wrong. Getting a boy so desperately in love with me, that he would do absolutely anything for my time and attention, even things he so badly does not want to do... Like, the ultimate friendzoned simp. I could, so easily, wrap a guy around my little finger so tightly, that he would actually believe that when I say I want him locked in a chastity cage so he could save himself for me, for when I'm ready for a real, mature relationship with him, he would actually believe me. It might take some time, some convincing, but I'm great at convincing boys to do what I want them to do... Use just the right touch, the right words, the right smile... And that's all it takes, once the lock is shut, I wouldn't even have to keep the pretense going anymore.

Of course I will, because it's just that much more fun. I would still touch him, more than I ever did, when he takes me out to a movie, we could snuggle the whole time. When he takes me out to restaurants, my foot could find its way across his thighs. Soon enough, my requirements will go up. Steeply. If at first, a simple movie date would be enough, now it's shopping sprees, renting a yacht, flying us to Paris... I would make sure that whoever I would have picked for this special role would be someone with a very well paying job, because if there isn't a lot to take, than what's the point in even taking, really?

Soon enough, every time we would go out, it would end in the same way. He would beg and plea with me to take the cage off, because it has been months, or even years, since he last had a relief, and I would pretend to be offended, that he prefers carnal pleasures over the joy of our love. Of course, nothing would stop me from going out with other guys during that time, but I'm sure he'd understand... I mean, with other guys it's just sex... I'm waiting till I'm ready for something real... something deep with him... How could I possibly be ready for anything like that if I don't have a place to vent my immediate needs? I have sex *for us*, he should be grateful that I do it.

But eventually, I will unlock him. He would have to agree to be tied up, of course, because in his condition, how could I possibly trust him not to jump me as soon as he gets out? And... We can't possibly ruin what we have by him jumping the gun too fast, right? Our first time should be special, and special things are worth waiting for. So, I would tie him up to my bed, maybe he would be a little freaked out at first, seeing how good I am with the ropes, but whatever caution signs his brain would fire at him, I'm sure would be cast aside as soon as his cock springs free from the cage. And that's when I would unleash the demon inside of me. Hours, upon hours, and hours, of licking, sucking, kissing, tickling, stroking, rubbing against different parts of my body, anything I can think of to just bring that poor boy as close as possible to orgasm. Every time he gets close, I stop, telling him I just want to make it as good as possible for him. Undoubtedly, eventually he would snap. He would scream at me, or cry, or even maybe swear at me(wouldn't that be perfect?), and me? Of course I would be offended to the very bone of my being. Being so nice and sweet to him, just to get this kind of treatment? That's one hell of a way to get a lady out of her mood.

It's possible, that by this time, he would regret agreeing to wearing the cage. Even if it means losing me(hopefully, my claws ran so deep on his soul by that point that he would absolutely agree on his own accord to go back to chastity, but who knows?). It is possible that he would say he want out of the deal. He doesn't want to be with me, he just wants to be free. Of course if that ever happens, that only means he lost sight on what's truly important. He's thinking with his dick again, he's becoming just like any other guy. And I love and care for him too much to allow that to happen. The cage is there to help him, really. He should be grateful.

At some point in our relationship, I would decide we have to move in together, because there's no sense in him paying for two different apartments, and twice the bills, so instead, I'm just gonna move in to his place. I wouldn't even mind sharing a bed with him, as long as he agrees to certain ground rules. The chores are his domain, as they were before, only now, instead of having to clean up two apartments, he only has to clean up one. So, again, me being the benevolent friend that I am... Whenever I bring a guy home, he should disappear. I don't care if he has nowhere to go, for all I care, he should jump in the closet and wait until I'm done. His money pays for everything, even if it means he has to give up on his silly little hobbies. And most importantly, he should allow me to experiment.

Experiment means, that if, for example, I wake up one day feeling aggravated, and I just want to see what it's like to kick a ballsack, as payback for all the shit boys had put me through my entire life, he should allow me to do that. If it means that I want to see what would people say if he brings out his cockcage and tell them that I put him in it two years ago and he hasn't had an orgasm since, then he should do that. If it means that I want to see if a man's cum taste different when a man taste it than when I do, then he should let me share a load after I'm done blowing a stranger, and tell me how it tastes like...

Slowly, but surely, I would strip him of everything that made him who he was. His hobbies, his self-image, his self-respect. Everything. But the thing is, I'm not sure I'd be done then, either. When it's all said and done, and he doesn't have a dime in his bank account, and all his possessions are on my name, and I've led him through a living hell, then the only thing I would have left to take from him is, well, me.

How much of a heartbreak would it be, for a boy that has gone through SO MUCH just for the chance to be with me, a boy that was never into any of the things I've done to him, the only thing he wanted was for me to reciprocate his feelings, to finally have that confirmation that I have absolutely no interest in him, and I never had, and never will have. The only role he could ever play in my life is to be... this. Not even this, because so far I had to pretend, now I don't have to pretend anymore... Now I can stop caring completely. All the things he gone through so far would be child's play compares to what he would have to face going forward, and now, he wouldn't even have the hopes of getting anything else. Just... This, desperate, hopeless, endless hell. I would leave him the choice. He can go free, out into the world, with a broken body, an empty bank account, a locked up cock, and see what he can make of himself out there. Or he could stay in my care, and learn what it means when I could truly not give a single shit about his wellbeing.

Sometimes, my empathy blocks me from being, and living, and achieving my true potential.

Thank god for tumblr, where I can write longass fantasies, about what I would do to a boy, if I were the sociopath I sometimes wish I would have been.