FemDom Erotica

 “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”

Occasionally I like to write, so that I can live life twice; once in the moment and again in words.

Like oil over water


HE ARRIVED A few minutes after her. Standing at the entranceway, bundled in a jacket and scarf, her umbrella pooled raindrops at her feet. She smiled when she saw him approach, looping her arm through his and directed him through the doorway. 

They checked in at the front desk, giving fake names because it never mattered anyway. Led down a black staircase by a tidy woman in a grey spa uniform, they were directed them to the respective dressing areas; street clothes were exchanged for swimwear, small possessions were left behind as they explored the space. 

Dark and moody, atmospheric, the spa was all slick black tiles and low lighting. Thoughtfully organised with plenty of quiet nooks, the considered design offered the demanding clientele places to relax and be alone. They could hear the patter of their footsteps as they walked, but only the faint echo of a few other voices, distant, removed.

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(work in progress)


FemDom Mistress looking

YOU SAT AT THE table, waiting patiently for me to appear. The instructions had been clear – order a glass of red wine and then wait in silence for my arrival, forbidden to speak to anyone including the wait staff. It felt like ages as the minutes ticked by. You kept your gaze averted in hopes that you would not attract unneeded attention and be forced to be rude to the waitress. A wave of apprehension washed through you, as you were unsure if you were being monitored for obedience. Eyes flicking between the door and the floor, you hoped that you had chosen a restaurant that would please me.

Standing immediately as I walked in, you remained on your feet for an awkwardly long time. I moved slowly across the room, silk dress gently sliding against my body from time to time; a tease, a hint at the curves underneath, elegantly gliding in impossibly high heels. Despite knowing the rules, for several moments you could not look away.

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Texture of Desire [part 1]


femdom erotica

THE MESSAGE APPEARED ON HIS MOBILE on a Thursday at 10pm:

‘Next Friday evening, NYC. Let me know what time we depart.’

Arrangements were made, details confirmed and they met in the airport lounge. He had a drink prepared, ready for her, as he took her carry-on from her hands.

When they arrived it was still early in the City. Departing in the evening and arriving in the afternoon always felt like the hours that had passed simply evaporated and they had reversed time for a little while. Fall was her favorite season; the leaves unveiled the colors of the sunset, the air was crisp and cool so a light jacket and a scarf kept the temperature comfortable without the overbearing weight of a winter coat; it was still as pleasant to be outside as it was to be inside.

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Objects in the Rearview Mirror


London Mistress

RUSHING OUT of the metro station I was met by a cold drizzle. The entire city was wet, reflections smeared into blurry colors across puddles.

I moved quickly towards the venue – the last thing I wanted was to be late. I had been invited to a private party, one of a few uncollared subs to have the privilege of serving a group of Dommes for the evening. Serving at this event was a coveted role, only the best were invited, but had to make themselves available to be used indiscriminately by the dominants, without their own preferences for attraction being considered. It was ultimate submission. The air smelled damp and fresh, as it always did after a thunderstorm.

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You are a Reflection of Me


London Mistress in shower

THE WATER streamed down my body, spray droplets collecting on the glass, tinted blue with steam. The heat seeped into my body, relaxing my tired muscles after a long day. Bubbles from the soap collected at my toes before disappearing down the drain.

Through the glass, I could see your outline, blurred – naked, on your knees, humbly gazing at the floor, unmoving while you waited. As you heard the sound of the water stop flowing, I saw you look up – just for a second – before remembering yourself and dropping your gaze once again. You crawled over to the edge of the tub as I stepped out, offering a fluffy towel and gently rubbing the droplets from my skin. I caught you sneaking a peek at my body as you went along and I secretly laughed, knowing from the look in your eye and the momentary twitch of your cock, just how much you wanted me. I was pleased by your self-control.

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The Poetry of Initial Attraction


AS I ROUND the corner to the bar, I see you, sitting on a low stool at a table crowded by cocktails, circled by a few friends. You are sharply dressed, but somehow still looking relaxed. We look at each other at the same moment, a mutual catch of the eye, a coincidence that would only be repeated by intention. I sit at the bar and order from my favourite bartender with just an acknowledgment.

I look back, just at the moment you look up again to see if I was looking at you and again we catch each other’s eye. From that moment, you glance in my direction every few seconds, trying to determine if I am indeed looking at you, yet clearly hoping not to get caught looking. I fixate my gaze evenly in your direction and catch you every time, shyly averting your eyes when you realise I have seen you. I savor this silent flirtation, as if neither wants to admit a weakness for the other.

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