I became anxious toward bedtime. We still hadn’t spoken, but I knew that we would have some sort of confrontation in bed. She would want me to have sex with her, but I was wounded; I felt like she had totally humbled me – buried my masculinity in inferiority. And I didn’t know how to approach her. How could I be aggressive now? I was obviously not the sexually dominant party. And how much could I deliver anyway? But if she made moves on me, I would feel like I had to redeem myself. And I felt like my sexuality wasn’t enough for her; after the work-out earlier in the day, how could I possibly fulfill her now? Her vagina would devour me, and I’d just leave her unsatisfied again. What would she do then? She had gotten really impatient with me earlier; what if she got more impatient now? I recognized two kinds of feelings in myself now: Anger at her for belittling me, even if it was deserved: and fear. For the first time, I recognized that I was afraid of a woman. She had the power to make me feel totally inadequate. There was no way I could take away her femininity, but she – a strong woman – could strip me of my masculinity with just a few moments in the sack. I felt, looking back on it, that when she stopped me into the doorway and rubbed her hand from my asshole across my balls, pressing them against my body with her palm, that she was telling me: “David, when you couldn’t handle me earlier today – when I gripped your useless little nuts – I castrated you. I castrated you.” Getting ready for bed – the two of us still in silence – I felt like a eunuch.
She lay in bed, naked. The only light on was my reading lamp. I stood at the side of the bed, and realized that if I didn’t take off my boxers, it would be stupid. I would look ridiculous – I always slept naked, as did she. So I pulled down my boxers. As I reached for the light – before getting into bed – I saw her staring at my crotch. At my flaccid penis. She had a look of hostile disappointment.
I lay on my back, rigidly. I began to think she was just going to let me go to sleep, without trying to have sex with my again. But then, while my mind slowly dissolved into sleep, while I lay on my side facing away from her, I felt her turn over, and she banged her knee against my ass. I was jolted into fearful awakeness. Although she had definitely kneed me – definitely wanted me to hurt a little – I didn’t say anything. I wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened. But then it happened again: harder. And – maybe it was the darkness, maybe it was my total confusion about what was going on – I felt tears well up in my eyes. I prayed that she would just think, OK, I’ve punished him enough; I’ll let him sleep. But then she did it again – this time making sure to drive her knee evenly between my buttocks (but mercifully not striking my balls). Against my will, I cried out.
“What’s the matter, David? Hm?”
She moved up to me, pressed herself against me. I could feel her firm breasts pushing into my back. She made a couple of little thrusts against my ass with her pelvis, then reached around my waist for my testicles.
“Something wrong, little baby?”
I instinctively pressed my legs together, trying to prevent her from touching my balls. I sandwiched them between my legs hard – it hurt, but I felt safer. She instantly recognized what I was doing, and yanked ferociously on my penis. Again letting the illusion of “masculinity” slip away, I cried out. She laughed, and tugged me more. But I realized she could wail on my penis all she wanted; it was, compared to my balls, invulnerable. I kept my legs closed, even if crushing my nuts slightly.
She would have none of it. Of course my scrotum was still partly exposed, and she drove her fingernails into it, until I had to yield to her. I was starting to cry; I opened my legs for her, and she was not in the least bit merciful because I surrendered: she grabbed my nuts in her fist and chuckled.
“Are you going to fuck me now, David? Are you going to pretend to be a man and satisfy me, or am I going to take the broomstick from the closet, gag you with a fucking towel, then ream you until you bleed all over the floor?”
I heard myself whimpering, and I heard her laughing.
“You’re such a little wimp, David. I should never have gotten involved with a boy as dickless as you. I could eat your little nuts for a snack.”
I heard myself weeping. She held me around the waist, gripping my weak masculine flesh – utterly dominating me.
“If only some of your boyfriends were over, David. Maybe then I’d get satisfied; I’d screw them all one at a time – hell, two at a time – then make you slurp their cum from my asshole, then fuck you silly with them all watching what a dickless little twerp you are.”
She laughed, then bit my on the back of the neck. I cried out; I felt like she broke skin, made me bleed.
“Wait!” she shouted, “Wait a minute here. Men are supposed to be stronger in battle, aren’t they? Men are supposed to have greater upper body strength than women. And if you forget their little nuts” – she gave mine an extra squeeze, making my insides jump – “they’ve got a HUGE edge over women, don’t they?”
She lept off the bed, then commanded me to get to my feet. When I lay there quivering, afraid to move, she slapped my face with her palm, HARD.
“Get on your feet, stupid boy! Get on your fucking feet!”
Continued …
Originally posted 2009-01-15 15:00:05.
Male Weakling : 2
Female Led Relationships - F/m Fiction, Male Chastity, Feminization Stories, Female Domination Erotica, Femdom Photographs