Dangerousangleofadream - Femdom

Delegate.

Everyone moaned about the conference….but you always found a way to amuse yourself. There was usually a lady in the hotel bar, maybe looking for some unattached fun. Alpha corporate males with an expense account bigger than their cocks proved to be popular with some of these ladies.

Tonight was no different, you had the final workshop session in the morning and you took your usual place at the bar. Looking around the lounge, the lady that was catching your eye wasn’t your type. Older, certainly. Maybe 50? But a firm, slim figure. She had a sleek, short haircut…..black with a hint of grey mixed in. Her expression was stern, dark eyes intently looking around the scene in the bar. She was wearing a pair of leather thigh boots, matching short skirt and silk blouse. Her make up was quite discreet, pale skin with mascara accentuating her already deep eyes and scarlet lips…..she was quite intimidating in an understated way.

You found yourself staring too much and she matched your gaze…..the look was unwavering and she carried on until you looked away, embarrassed. So much for the alpha corporate male as you sipped your rum in shrunken silence. A whiff of perfume and the creak of leather soon invaded your senses as you turned to see her standing next to you. She was a few inches taller and her demeanour reminded you of a lioness. Casually watching a baby zebra meander around a watering hole before deciding to take it down.

“A drink would be appropriate now, seeing as you’ve spent the last half hour watching me.” Her voice was clipped with an accent, possibly British, possibly Irish. You fumbled to get the bartender’s attention and she ordered a large red wine. You talked….or rather you rambled nervously. Her cool countenance was extremely off putting and you really didn’t know how to act. She was gracious and smiled at the right moments, but her eyes never smiled….not once. She asked if you wanted to fuck her this evening….you sat, struck dumb by the direct question.

“This is why you’re here, isn’t it? To find some easy pussy and to fulfill whatever thrills you?”

You nodded, a little unsure if this would offend her. Instead she smiled again….a genuine one this time and ordered a bottle of champagne. Of course, it was charged to you and she placed her hand on your crotch….your cock springing into life. She tutted, and told you to follow her up to the room. You watched her ass sway in the soft, fitted leather. Her walk was regal, the long boots oozing dominance and you felt like a filthy peasant.

The elevator ride was tense as she stood close to you, but not once acknowledging you…..the short walk to her room and the door was opened. She pushed you on the bed, ordering you to undress. You quickly removed everything as she popped the champagne open. You sat, butt naked watching as she slowly stalked around the room…..her short skirt clinging against her hips and ass.

“Go into the bathroom and shower. I don’t approve of dirty cocks….if I’m going to take something in my mouth, I want it clean.”

You got up and headed into the shower and took care to wash throughly. You even brushed your teeth as you heard music start to play from within the room. You reappeared and she was sitting there, the two glasses of champagne sitting on the dressing table. She handed you one and she guzzled her glass in a single go. You did the same as she poured another….the heat in the room seemed be getting more intense as you felt like your muscles were made of stone. She drank her glass quickly again and you tried to reach for yours….but the strength had evaporated from you. Your fingers were moving in slow motion, your face felt numb and you were dimly aware of your slurred voice. The lady patted you on the head and gently laid you down……

Your eyes opened. The room was dim and the music was still playing. The champagne bottle was next to the bed and you tried to move. You looked down and your heart leapt. Despite the sluggishness, you were fully awake now. The shiny dress you seemed to be wearing was tight. The red ropes coiled around you were also very tight. You tried to call out, but the ball jammed in your mouth stopped any intelligent conversation. The reflection in the mirror filled in the blanks. The sissy slut opposite was indeed you. A short brown wig, leather collar with steel ring attached and a pair of red high heels were forced onto your feet. The makeup was painted on like a true whore and you struggled furiously.

The bathroom door opened and the lady walked out. Her boots were now swapped for a shiny patent pair, fully adorned with buckles running the whole length of the boot….right up to her crotch. She was wearing a latex body suit and long latex gloves. Her hair was slicked back and her demonic eyes almost glowed in the dimness of the room. But the one thing that drew your attention was the massive, jet black cock strapped to her groin. A veined, glistening monster….maybe 8-10 inches long. You shook your head as she strutted over to the bedside table and grabbed a few implements you couldn’t quite make out.

“You really can’t hold your drink, can you, boy? I was afraid I’d have to amuse myself tonight….luckily you made a recovery.”

She moved toward you and quickly grabbed your limp dick. A yelp from you was rewarded with a stinging slap across the face. The black plastic chastity cage was skilfully placed on you and she held the key in front of your disbelieving eyes. She smirked and sat down in the chair opposite you….her boot raised and lifting the dress up to expose your caged cock. A sigh and a chuckle came from her cruel red lips as she started to stroke her huge phallus. Quickly and rhythmically jerking it up and down.

“This could have been you. But I got the idea that you might prefer taking cock, rather than giving it. A shame really, I just reapplied my lipstick for nothing. But don’t worry, baby. I’ll make sure that I’ll reapply yours….i plan on having it smeared all around my big, black dick. You like my big, black dick, sweetie?”

You shook your head and she ground her boot heel into your cage. She would educate you for the whole night to come. A vibe constantly forcing your little girly cock to swell in its prison while a real piece of equipment took your virgin ass.

Perhaps you won’t be returning to the conference next year…..or maybe you will. I guess your lady will decide that.

All Part of the Plan, Ch. 2

This caption is part of a four-part series I'm writing with the wonderful @destinedfordiapers! You can find part one here.

"Uh-oh!" I said in a playful, sing-song voice. "Do I smell something stinky?"

My boyfriend straightened up and turned around slowly. His face was scarlet with embarrassment and frozen in an expression of horrified disbelief. He'd just finished doing his first poopy in his pants as an adult.

I'd been waiting for this to happen for days, and it had been hard not to start cheering when I'd seen that look appear on his face, the look that said I'm not going to make it this time. We'd been sitting in the living room watching TV when he'd suddenly jumped to his feet and rushed out of the room, and I'd followed behind him, urging him on like a proud parent. "You can do it, baby! Show me how a big boy uses the potty!"

He hadn't even made it halfway to the downstairs bathroom.

His bladder control had become practically non-existent thanks to the drugs I'd been slipping into his food and drink, but his bowel control had proved to be a little more stubborn. It had definitely been getting weaker over the past couple of weeks, but by watching his diet and being careful not to stray too far from a toilet, he'd managed to avoid having any messy accidents. Now, however, he'd finally had a number two potty emergency in his pants.

It was all I could do not to rush forwards and pull him into a big hug and cover his blushing face with kisses. He looked adorable standing there in the hallway, like a guilty toddler who'd run off to try and hide his dirty diaper from his Mommy! His Mommy. That's who I was, even if he didn't know it yet. I was his Mommy, sometimes strict, sometimes loving, and always in charge.

"Pants down, baby," I told him. "Time for a diapie check!"

He didn't move. He was probably still paralyzed with shame, the poor little guy, and in any case it was too early to start introducing punishments for disobedience. That could come later.

I slipped my fingers into the waistband of his jeans and pulled them down, with some difficulty, over his thick disposable. Again, it was a struggle to stop myself squealing with delight. His diaper was drooping between his legs lower than I'd ever seen it droop before, not just soaked with tinkle, but thoroughly weighed down by the big whoopsie he'd done in it.

It was so cute! It was so sexy! Seeing a grown man reduced to this gave me a thrill like nothing else. I could feel my panties getting damp, a very different kind of dampness from the sort that my boyfriend had now gotten used to waddling around in.

I patted the sagging seat of his diaper and gave him a pitying, condescending smile that I had to fight to keep from becoming a smirk of satisfaction. "Oopsie," I said. "I guess you couldn't make it after all."

My boyfriend found his voice at last. "Please, just let me go and take care of this," he said. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. "I can handle it myself."

I shook my head. "That's not how it works, baby. I've told you before, I don't want you isolating yourself over this. I'm going to be involved with your diapers. Changing them is my job."

"But this time is different! Please babe, this is just a one-off! I must be sick or something!"

"Sweetheart, we both know you've been struggling with your bowel control lately," I said. "I understand how embarrassing it must for you to admit that you're a pants-pooper now too, but even if you turn into a big toddler who’d fit right in at nursery school, I promise I’ll still be here for you.”

His face turned as red as a tomato. “I’m not going to turn into a big toddler who’d fit in at nursery school!” he shouted.

“I didn’t say you would, honey,” I crooned to him, stroking his hair soothingly. He was a little taller than me so I had to reach up, but I was sure he didn't feel bigger in that moment. “I was just saying that if that happens, I’ll still love you just as much as I do now. I'm trying to be supportive, baby. Do you understand that?"

He nodded mutely.

“Then I don’t think raising your voice just now was a very nice thing to do, was it?" I asked.

“No..." he mumbled. "I’m sorry.”

"Good boy."

I knew he was biting back his retort. I knew he must want to tell me that I was being infantilizing, that I was only making him feel more embarrassed, that it would be better if I just ignored his diapers and let him deal with his problem with as much privacy as possible, but despite all my assurances, he was still worried I'd ditch him, and he didn't want to get into a fight and risk pushing me away.

After all, wasn't I being the perfect girlfriend? How many other women would be so understanding if their boyfriend suddenly started peeing and pooping himself like a baby? How many other women would still be willing to get intimate with him, even if that intimacy increasingly didn't go past a handjob on the changing table?

I did feel a little bit guilty at times for all the humiliation I was causing him, but seeing him on his back with his legs in the air and a wet diaper spread out beneath him always made it all worth it, and changing messy diapers was going to feel even more empowering. I couldn't wait!

"Let's get these off then, sweetums," I said, helping him take his jeans fully off his legs, leaving him in nothing but his loaded diaper below the waist. Then I took his hand and started leading him upstairs to the changing table in our bedroom, relishing every adorable crinkle made by his babyish underwear on the way. “Don't worry, baby," I said cooingly, "I'll have you out of that yucky diapie and into a nice clean one in no time!"

💋

Riders #50

It’s the little things that get to me!

As I’ve become more comfortable with my role as a disciplinary wife, my understanding of how severe a spanking needs to be to correct an issue or teach a lesson has expanded. At first, I was significantly more timid than I am now, and looking back, those first few weeks probably weren’t very effective. But I’ve gotten my footing and have built my confidence up to really embrace leaving an impression (sometimes both physically and mentally) to get my point across.