EXTRACT FOR
Femdom Contract
(Miranda Birch)

"Get in here!" 



The sudden, strident order interrupted his reverie of self-pity. Colin raised his hand, turned the knob of the door, pushed it slowly open, crawled through it. Keeping his head lowered, he closed the door behind him. 



O.K., so now you're a -- a what? A slave, that was it, wasn't it? That was what they called those blokes. Some of them even paid to be treated like this, silly buggers. A slave, he repeated to himself in his mind. Well, better play the part properly. It is all just play-acting after all, isn't it? Perhaps it won't be all that bad; perhaps it won't actually go on all that long. And, by God, this Penelope Ross, for all her ways, was really some woman. Tall, willowy, curvy; and yet almost top-heavy, big firm tits just the way he liked them; and and very, very beautiful. Definitely a class above that Mandy. 



Perhaps she really wanted to make use of him as a male sex-object, and this was all just a build-up to that? Colin felt a tingling in his balls at the thought. Well, if so, he was just the man for her! He felt some of his confidence return. 



"Up!" 



Again that crisp, no-nonsense command. A voice used to being immediately obeyed. Colin stood up, and dared to look at her. It was all he could do not to give a wolf-whistle. Blimey! 



He had seen some magnificent looking women in his time, in some remarkable outfits. But nothing like Penelope Ross -- no, Mistress Penelope, he remembered, he had to remember that -- and what she was wearing now. Of course she was a fashion expert, so she had the know-how. But what she was wearing was way beyond normal fashion; one could only class it as bizarre. 



Mistress Penelope wore a pair of black, shiny leather boots, tightly laced up. They had fantastically high heels. Standing naturally at five feet ten, she now over-topped Colin by a good six inches. She wore sheer black stockings which were hitched to taut suspenders attached to a waist-nipping corset of a pale blue colour. The corset uplifted her fulsome breasts high. They seemed to be trying to burst out of their containment. Colin licked his lips at the thought of feeling them, of pressing his lips to them, enjoying them... My God, this was turning out alright! A pair of skimpy black panties clung tight around her sexy curves and, over-topping the whole of this remarkable outfit was a cloak, a leather cloak made of the thinnest, finest leather, held together at the whiteness of her throat by a brooch. A mass of black, lustrous hair fell to her shoulders. 



Colin stared at her, riveted, his eyes running from toe to head and back again, drinking in what he saw, feeling the blood surge hotly through his veins. What a beauty! And so sexily dressed! Dressed up sexily for him! She must be after sex, he told himself. She just enjoyed that preliminary sort of play-acting. Well, weird though it was, if he ended up in her bed enjoying that luscious body as it was meant to be enjoyed, who cared? 



Colin continued to gaze -- and continued to lust. He was acutely aware of the confining garment into which he was locked. I must look a right tit, standing here with only this daft jock-strap thing on, he thought. His thickening penis strained futilely against its bondage. Well, to hell with it! That would be coming off soon enough, wouldn't it? 



Just as he thought that, he became aware that there was no womanly welcome on Mistress Penelope's face. None at all. There was no seductiveness, no coy beckoning, nor any warmth. Her black eyes, hard as diamonds, were fastened on him, as hypnotic as those of a snake. She stood motionless, dominating him with her gaze, with the sheer force of her personality. Colin felt somehow unmanned. Once more, his cockiness vanished, to be replaced by apprehension. 



Mistress Penelope's eyes continued to dominate his. They were boring into him, basilisk-like. He had to drop his gaze, he could no longer meet hers, she was too strong for him. But what a woman! What a magnetic personality! He was torn between a growing apprehension and a strong attraction. He felt forced to meet her gaze once more. He actually shuddered as he focused once more upon those steady, unblinking eyes. She is mesmeric, he thought: she is controlling me. Oh my God! It felt like being some worshipper before a temple Goddess. Yes... a Goddess... that was what she was! 



Almost without realising what he was doing, Colin found himself sinking down to his knees before this incredible figure. Almost he felt a need to do so. A wish. Never had he thought of a woman like this before. 



"That's better," said Mistress Penelope icily. "Now you will remain there until I give you permission to rise." 



The long limbs moved slowly towards him. Colin found his gaze directed in turn at the milky whiteness of the thighs, the thin black suspenders, the black stockings of silk, the gleaming boots of leather. He was mesmerised. 



"What are you?" enquired the imperious voice from above. 



"A... a... s-slave..." Colin found himself saying, his voice hoarse. Then a smashing blow fell across his left ear, swiftly followed by another across his right, set his head ringing. 



"Oww... oh don't..." he gasped involuntarily, placing his hands to his burning ears. 



"I am Mistress to you!" rapped Mistress Penelope. "Always!" 



"A slave, Mistress," Colin corrected himself. A spurt of anger went through him. Christ, she had really hit him a right pair of slaps, with full force! Why did she have to humiliate him in this absurd way? 



"Hands down. And don't you dare give me orders," retorted Mistress Penelope. 



Orders? What orders had he given? Ah, he had said `don't', had he not? Could that be taken as an `order'? Seemingly so. Colin lowered his hands. He must remember that absurd mode of address to her. He didn't want another couple of blows like that. 



"Miss Mandy and I have decided that your disgusting behaviour in the office this afternoon must be punished. You men think any young woman is fair game. Well, you are wrong. And, slave, you are going to find out in pretty short order just how wrong you are!" 



`My slave!' God, can it be true? wondered Colin. He felt that, yes, he would like to be her slave: her sex- slave. he could see her already, riding his rigid member, breasts bouncing, hair tossing... 



"After I have finished with your first little lesson here," Mistress Penelope continued, "after I have convinced you that this is not a game and that you truly are my slave -- I am going to hand you over to Mandy -- that's `Miss Mandy', to you of course..." 



Colin felt the hair on the nape of his neck beginning to rise. This was no joke after all! It was for real.