Slice of Life – Femdom Short Story, Part 2
From the way it started out, I had thought this was going to go smoothly. But then he made those remarks that completely turned me off. As I stripped him naked, grabbed him by the chin, and looked him in the eye while I jerked him off, he said, “Yeah, you like that?” referring to his cock.
I wanted to roll my eyes. He wasn’t doing this right. He was too cocky, and it confused me more than anything. I was certainly attracted to him. I found myself smiling as I traced my fingers along the contours of his body, but the moment I looked him in the eye and saw how he smirked, it threw me off. He was a good looking man, but he knew that all too well, and it made it difficult for me to get in the mood.
But there I was. I had stripped a man naked and was leading him to my humble bedroom. When I turned around, I saw how he was checking out the place and nodding. He said he liked my lampshade and smiled. I hated that. He was opting out of our little power-play while we were in the midst of it. This guy clearly had no idea how to please a dominant woman.
I raised a finger to his lips. “Shut up,” I said, trying to make it sound kinky as much as I could, but I really was annoyed with him.
He smirked again, seating himself on my bed as he licked his lips.
As I stood before him, glancing at his already hard cock, I kept thinking of how forced this felt. I didn’t like how he treated it like a game. It wasn’t a game to me; it was how sex should be. Surely, I knew that men were not really my servants, but I didn’t like how Joshua reminded me of that by opting out of the dynamic every now and again.
I would have described him as someone who was too demanding, but I later discovered that he was needy, as well.
There he was, still on my bed. He looked up at me and pointed to his cock. “You can use teeth if you want. I like a little pain in that area.”
You’re not supposed to tell me that, Joshua, I thought to myself.
I was almost wet a couple of minutes ago, but now I was dry as a desert. I gave him a few spanks, and he smiled and giggled every time my hand landed on his round ass cheeks. I guess he really was submissive, but not the kind I liked. He didn’t take it as seriously as I would have wanted him to. And I guess I also took him by surprise when I revealed I was a dom.
We didn’t have sex that night. I didn’t want to. He was disappointed, but he didn’t say anything. He asked me to stay over, and I gave him no straight answer. He did anyway, and I later found myself caught in a relationship I never asked for. He noticed I wasn’t happy with the way he presented himself to me, and he began to change.
But instead of changing into my type, he changed into this excessively needy idiot who would follow me around the apartment with nothing on but boxer briefs. He would sometimes purposely piss me off, thinking it would get him another spanking. Ironically, the last time he got on my nerves, it earned him a break-up. I asked him to leave, and he never stopped texting me since. He still does sometimes, and I cringe every time I remember putting up with him.
Joshua made me question everything. I wondered whether the lifestyle I wanted was even real, or if it were just something idealistic that we only get to see in porn. I thought that perhaps my tendencies were best left in my fantasies, which I would maybe one day express through literature in an attempt to normalize FLR. Because, surely, if I could only see myself as a dom in any relationship, there must have been women out there who felt the same way. I just wasn’t sure whether there would be enough men in the
world who would mutually want such a relationship.
I wasn’t exactly devastated, but I was definitely irked, and the feeling lingered for a few months until it slowly faded. It didn’t dissipate, though. I always felt like there was something missing from my life, something that was never really going to be fulfilled because it was nothing but a fantasy inspired by adult films.
But that was until I met Brandon.
I didn’t think much of him when I first met him. He was about the same height as me, but I always wore heels, so it felt like I towered over him whenever we talked. It was back in the corporate days when I worked next to him in a cubicle at a PR company. He would always try to find an excuse to speak to me, and I played along.
It was a few months until he seemed interested in me as more than just a colleague. I liked how he never flirted with me and only gave me the opportunity to initiate flirts. He was a funny guy and always made jokes about how I could easily destroy him if I wanted to. He was probably right, but I wasn’t sure whether we thought of the same scenario.
I would catch him looking at me quite often, but he would always smile and look away. He rarely ever looked me in the eye for too long, especially while we made conversation. I liked how shy he was, and I eventually asked him out.
Brandon seemed surprised, but he never acted like too much of a dork. He was a shy gentleman who was as eloquent as he was kind. We were initially going to head to a nice cozy restaurant, but it was closed for renovations that night.
“Wanna get some corn dogs and take a walk?” he suggested, gesturing to the corn dog stand with his chin. He had his hands tucked into his pockets whenever he was around me. It was a little chilly at the time, but I knew that wasn’t why he hid his hands.
I noticed how they shook a little whenever I was physically close to him. He was definitely attracted to me, and I was quickly growing to feel the same way.
I took the offer, and we went to get snacks. That day, I wore high-heeled boots, and whenever we were about to step down the sidewalk, he would link his arm with mineand help me down. I didn’t need help, but I liked the gesture. Although he was shy, and I felt in control, he was still a gentleman that made sure I was comfortable.
It was always the little details that I paid attention to, like how he acted when we stopped by for ice-cream. The number of men that have said something along the lines of, “And perhaps a strawberry ice-cream cone for the lady?” made me think that men were just programmed to think that women liked everything pink and sweet. The only shade of pink I liked was a hand-print on a man’s ass. And I guess Brandon, deep down, knew that.
He gave me the space to speak for myself and always listened when we conversed. Even though there was a back-and-forth, I still felt like I was the one leading it, and I didn’t have to force it, either. That night, he walked me home and said goodnight. He stood there for a moment, almost slowly turning around to leave, hoping that it wouldn’t be the end of it. I pulled him close and sucked a kiss out of his plump lips. I could feel him smiling on my lips. The kiss was slow and sensual, and he kept his hands to himself.
When I slowly pulled away, his face was flushed, and he kept combing his hair back with his fingers, flustered, and a little giggly.
“I think you just might be one of the most intimidating women I’ve ever met,” he said, smiling. “I think it’s my weakness.”
That was it. I knew things would work out between us the moment he said that. He was the perfect blend of gentlemen and sub, and as much as I didn’t want to rush things between us, I couldn’t wait to have him in my bed.
Brandon was the one who taught me how FLR relationships should go. I’d previously thought that I had to make myself assertive in order to advertise myself as a dominant woman, but that was just the vulgar way to do it, and it attracted the wrong men. I later learned that you know a man is submissive when he gives you the space to make the first moves, while also very subtly expressing interest. They may initiate a conversation with
you, but they rarely ever come forward with their feelings for you unless you allow them to. It all just comes naturally.
I had mistakenly thought that men had to be trained and informed of my ways, but I realized that I skipped quite a few essential steps. I was thinking with a sexual mindset, and that always ended up landing me creeps. There’s more to an FLR than sex. Dominant women generally lead in the relationship, while also giving their partners the space to make decisions for themselves. This wasn’t something that you sat down and announced to a man on a first date, but it was definitely something that you picked up on the more you socialized.