Dangerousangleofadream - Femdom

wanna make out with a shy boy and make fun of him for getting hard from it

We’d been at dinner for about half an hour when she looked at me in that  certain way and said “When we get home, I’m going to hurt you. Does that make you excited?”

“Yes m’am.”

“I’m going to hurt you a lot. I’m going to make you cry, and then hurt you more. It’s going to be a very long night for you. I want you fragile. I want you compliant. Thinking about you on your knees, bruised and begging, is making me incredibly wet, do you know that?”

“yes m’am.” I was sweating now. 

“I feel like caning you. I feel like hurting your balls. I feel like shocking them and watching you squirm while i masturbate.”

Her hand was below the table. I could tell she was stroking herself, but she never broke eye contact with me.

“In fact, I think it’s time you spent some time in the chair again, don’t you? It’ll be nice to have the bed to myself after I wear myself our on you, don’t you think?”

I shuddered. The chair was a thing she’d seen on Kink and had me build for us. It was designed for “nondamaging prolonged discomfort,” and she’d only strapped me in once before. 

Now, apparently, she intended me to spend the night in it. 

“Give me your keys and wallet.” I looked at her quizzicly. “NOW.”

I did. She popped them in her purse. “Can’t have you running off, now, can we?” She rose. I started to follow, but she pushed me back into my chair. “Just the ladies, love. Wait here like a good boy.”

When she came back, she stood in front me and smiled evily. “Open.”

“Huh?”

“Open your mouth or I’ll start the beating here.”

I complied. She stuffed her panties into my mouth. They were wet – very wet – and acrid. She’d peed on them. She wiped her hand on my face.

“Good boy.”

She dropped some cash on the table.

“So when we get home, I want you to strip in the garage, and crawl into the basement. Lock your collar around your neck, and lock your hands behind your back. Then wait.”

She liked waiting. The basement was cold, and the collar was heavy. 

“I think I’ll start with a little time-out. You like time-out, don’t you? With some special sauce?”

I did not. Time out meant a stressful tie and a long wait before something worse – and during the wait, it always got worse. Special sauce meant she was going to rub IcyHot on my balls before we started, too. If was s

“Then I’m going to spank your balls. I really love how you howl when I do that, but if you make too much noise I’ll gag you. 

Summertime Blues

“Oh, stop pouting. You got what you deserved,” she jeers.

“What? This is all your fault! You wouldn’t let me change out of my diaper at the airport!” you whine, showing her the blue wristband the hotel staff required you to wear.

“My fault?!? Did I force you to fill your diaper up with tinkles? Did I force you to waddle like a toddler? No, that was all you, sweetie,” she retorts.

Flustered, you huff and puff, stomping your feet in anger.

“Wow, baby, you’re doing everything in your power to prove you deserve that wristband!” she taunts. “I think they were right to put it on you!”

“No, they weren’t! I’m not a baby! Now I don’t even get to drink at the all-inclusive resort that I paid for!” you screech, “this is bullshit!”

“Language, honey, you better not use words like that when you’re in your kiddy pool!” she laughs.

“What are you talking about?”

“Awww, did you not pay attention to the lady when she explained what your wristband means?” she smirks devilishly, “you were throwing quite the tantrum! Honey, the blue wristband doesn’t just mean you’re not allowed alcohol! It means you’re in diapers! And that means you’re only allowed in the kiddie pool!”

You stand there, mortified, lost for words.

“You understand why, right? The adults don’t want to swim in the same pool as babies! They don’t want to worry about you scrunching your face and pooping next to them on the lazy river! They want to drink their margaritas in peace!”

“This isn’t fair! I’m not a baby! And I don’t even poop my diaper!” you squeal.

“They don’t know that! All people will see is the blue wristband and know you’re waddling in a diaper! Of course, I doubt they’ll need to see the wristband, your diaper is pretty obvious under your swimsuit!”

“No, I won’t go! I wanted a real vacation!” you bluster.

“I don’t care what you want, sweetie. In ten minutes, you’ll be splashing around in the kiddie pool like the toddler you are while I sip a strawberry daiquiri like the adult I am! But first, we gotta get you into your swim diapers!”

“I don’t have any!” you say confidently, thinking you’ll get out of this.

“But the resort does! I bought two packages for you! They look just like Little Swimmers! Look! Aren’t they adorable?”