I wrote The Fly in the Room and thought it was a complete story. But, I had a request for a part two. So here it is...

He said his name was Fred. Of course it wasn't. I found that out when I noticed a pile of mail on a side table by the door. I'll call him Fred because he does look something like a caveman and his expectations were primitive too.

Fred was freshly cleaned up and showered but he had not done much about brushing his hair, cleaning under his fingernails or trimming his finger and toenails. Poor grooming has always been a turn off for me. As it turns out most other women feel the same way. That was how I had met and become friends with a few other local Dominant women. We were all annoyed with the local men who expected so much and returned so very little. Not even bothering to dress up or clean up, as if we should be satisfied with so little.

None of us were professionals, though each of us had considered it for the amount of money the professional FemDoms claimed to make. I was surprised a man would pay that much for services rendered. But, that was before I understood the big difference between paid FemDoms and women like myself and my friends who have a personal interest versus a professional/ paid job.

The professionals read from a script. They get their orders from the men and they do the things the men expect, in the way they expect them. This is actually what most men consider to be Domination by a woman. That was a big disappointment for me. What was the point of it all if I did it all his way? I wasn't settling for that dull routine. I did play online awhile - until I got so bored I became angry with the men for being so bland, so thoughtless and stupid. I could not believe how ignorant and self centred they were.

I did not agree to meet with Fred until I was sure he understood what male submission is. I drilled it into him that things would be my way. He said that was all he wanted. He said all the right stuff but obviously he meant none of it. I doubt he cared at all about me, who I am and what I want. He expected this to be all about himself and his needs. Just look how he greeted me at the door! Nude and groveling, a little man maggot.

I was so angry I could not speak for a few minutes. Then I just wound down and decided to leave. I left him waiting, expecting something. I left him with his butt in the air, his legs open and his nose pressed to the carpet, the dirty looking carpet in his home. I left him to play with himself because it was obvious I didn't really need to be there for him to experience the Domination he wanted.

I had driven back out to the main street of town before I changed my mind. I parked the car and made a few phone calls. Across the street was a handy Dollar Store so I picked up a few things, some for myself while I was waiting and some for Fred and my friends. I had given them his address and by the time I got back both of them were already there, dressed to kill. Poor, stupid Fred was going to get what he expected and a lot more.

I opened the door and the poor idiot was still where I had left him. But, I bet he had been wondering while he waited. I'm sure this had not gotten him actually thinking though. His cock was still hard and he was squirming around. I admit, I do like the squirming.

A fly was buzzing around was the only sound, other than Fred's breathing. I said nothing but I wanted him to know he was not alone in the room. I made sure of it as the three of us walked a circle around him. When he tried to take a peek I put the blindfold on him, making it just a bit on the tight side. I was still angry.

"Mistress..." He said, with a little concern in his voice.

I didn't answer but one of the other women gave him a body check which nearly sent him sprawling from his kneeling position. None of us were feeling particularly patient with Fred. We snapped the collar and leash on him. It was a choke collar which I had been happy to find in the Dollar Store. I had never used one before. The collar I wanted to use on a male was made of chain but did not choke. It was a collar for leading around a male I could be proud of. Fred was not that guy.

I pulled the leash, making the collar tighten around his neck. He made a fake-sounding gagging noise so I pulled harder. I think that was when the little maggot began to wonder if this wasn't all just a fantasy game all for him. I wanted him to wonder, I wanted him to realize this was not all about his needs.

"Get up on your knees, maggot Fred." I demanded.

One of the other women pulled his arms around his body, as if he were hugging himself. While she held them there the other woman put on the restraints. In this position he could remain in the bondage a long period of time with his hands and arms mostly out of commission. Next she smacked his face, I don't think it was too hard but the maggot gasped and opened his mouth to complain. I stuck the dildo gag in while his mouth was still open and I pushed it in deep. He gagged for real that time. He started to struggle as I snapped it in place. By then it was already too late for maggot Fred.

"Is this the part where I tell you what a good boy you are, Fred? Sorry, it's not going to happen quite the way you planned today. Stand up!"

He had a hard time standing from the kneeling position. Without his arms to balance and push himself up he made a spectacle of himself. He'd told me how fit he was, how much he worked to keep in shape but... Fred had quite the beer gut for a guy who told me he went to the gym every day. He would be too heavy for us to lift, and really... none of us wanted to haul him around.

We had a great cage, with wheels. It was something I had seen on a BDSM website. I ordered it, even though it had cost me almost a month of rent money. This would be the first time I would get to use it. It wasn't too heavy to have brought it from my place when it was still empty. So I had also brought a furniture mover's dolly which could raise it up to get it to roll into the back of my truck once we loaded Fred into the cage. Getting him in there took some work. First, because he did start to struggle. Second, I discovered it was tougher to get a struggling man through the small door of the cage than it would have been with a man who wanted to go there. So, I just used Fred's own stupidness against him.

I grabbed his cock, squeezed it and stroked it until he settled down. He was back to being stiff and hard and drooling with precum. I lead him by his cock and pulled him into the cage. It was a little manovering but then he was inside, locked up.

"We want to watch you play with your little cock now, Fred. Three of us are sitting around you in your cage and we want to watch you cum. Amuse us, little man slut."

"Yes, be the little man slut, Fred." I agreed.

I didn't stay to watch but I could hear him moving around, straining against the restraints to reach his cock. I could hear him gasping, moaning, and making all those little noises while he strained and worked over his cock.

Fred's fly buddy was walking on the cage bars near his feet. Meanwhile, I went on an exploration of Fred's place. It was a little dirty but not quite to the point of being gross. I expected he hired someone to clean and did not do it himself. Things like curtains were dusty but the floor in the kitchen only had the debris of a day or two on it. I found a petty teapot with two matching cup and saucers. They didn't look like Fred's style so I wrapped them up in a couple of his shirts and found a grocery bag to carry them out in.

I found Fred's stash of BDSM toys and gear. Most of it looked used and not put away washed. That was gross. I took mental note of what I found but there were some things I was curious about so I took photos.

I packed up some pants, shirts, underwear and other essentials and packed them into a suitcase for Fred. I checked his bathroom medicine cabinet in case he had any prescriptions, there were a few but all had expired dates so I left them there. In the linen closet I found a set of new sheets - not even out of the packaging. Likely a woman had bought them for him, they had a great thread count and Fred didn't seem the type to know much about anything like thread counts.

I took my plunder out to the main room. Fred was sagging in his cage, panting after cumming. Did he think the game was over now? The cage door was still open. I reached inside and hobbled Fred at the ankles then tied them to the side of the cage so he could not kick the cage while he was inside it. Fred made more gurgling noises behind the gag, I ignored him. He was comfortable enough in his bondage.

I gave the teapot and cups to one friend because I know she has a nice collection of them. The other friend had just moved into a new apartment and would be happy with the new sheet set.

Together we rolled Fred, inside the cage, out to my truck. I had parked it close to his front door. Fred's fly buzzed past us as we loaded the cage into the truck. I saw it fly out into the darkening sky, off to other adventures.

Fred was trying to talk around the dildo gag but none of it was the intelligent conversation I had hoped for when I came to meet him today. I would have to settle for something less and Fred... he would just have to settle for being a good boy... my way.

Fred went into a bit of a panic as he realized he was not getting out of the cage. Likely he could feel the air moving over his bare skin and realized he had been moved outside too. The cage was making a loud gonging noise as he struggled and clanged the cage against the side of my truck. But, we had planned for this too. I reached through the bars of the cage, gripped Fred's thigh and pulled it close against the bars, holding it there while he was injected with a tranquilizer. It helped to have friends.

The shot worked fast. Fred was almost out of it when I pulled up the tarp and covered the cage for the drive home. I'd just make a pit stop there to pack up some clothes and things. I'd be taking little Fred to a real dungeon, run by a group of women the three of us had been talking to online. We had wanted to join. But, in order to join we had to bring in a captive male. So we had pretty much given up on the idea, partly just because it seemed a bit extreme, until today.

Fred's stupid expectations for our date today were so convenient because now we had a male to bring the Amazon club. We each got into our vehicles with plans to meet at my place and drive out to the Amazon dungeon together, with Fred.

I posted this to Literotica in 2002. They modified it, making the submissive male 18 in order to make it clear this was an adult story. I disagreed with the change. The man I wrote the story for was actually 36 and making him 18 turned the story into something kind of gross for me. I asked them to not publish the story at all but, Literotica ignored me. So this was the one and only story I posted to the site. I'm surprised that the site seems to be defunct now. Just a collection of old content.

One Wet Afternoon by SpiritoftheNight

18-year-old Chris was bored. Outside the rain beat down on the sloppy looking snow, melting it all away one flake at a time. The snowman he had made a few days ago looked like a forgotten science experiment. The head had fallen an hour ago, the body was listing to the left, only a shovel held it up. Of course, the whole thing was shrunken and pitted now. Chris thought of people who collected shrunken heads and wondered if anyone ever collected shrunken snowmen. Keeping them would require serious planning. Some sort of a freezer that wouldn't dry them out, he decided. 

"Chris, did you get out there and shovel the path yet?" His Governess called from the den where she was working on his computer.

"It's raining. I don't want to go out." He called back.

"Too bad. Get dressed and get started. You wouldn't want anyone to slip on the path. I just heard it is going to get a lot colder this afternoon. All that rain will be ice by then. You need to clean it up now and put down some salt too." …more

Tempting Tuesday this time is about a red light. Picture this... in the car, stopped at a red light on a city street very late at night, no other traffic. You and your man coming home from a great evening out, all dressed up and feeling very pleased with yourself.

What would you do to really surprise him and let him know what you want once you get him home tonight? (You don't feel like just going to bed).

Write flash fiction, a micro story of 50 - 100 words, about being stopped at the red light and let the reader's imagination work out how the night ends.

I like the smell of talcum powder. I don't have any around. It's been a really long time since I kept any here. But, I can remember the way it smells and how it can get everywhere and be quite a clean up job if it gets puffed out of it's container.

Talc is the world’s softest rock used to make a variety of products including soap, fertilizers, antacids, cosmetics, and baby powder. There are lawsuits claiming talcum powder has caused cancer. Of course, everything causes cancer so don't get too uptight about it all.

What do you think of when you smell talcum powder? No babies for me. My Mother used it but I didn't. By that time disposable diapers were the accepted norm and those things only cause diaper rash if you leave them on too long after they are wet.

Talcum powder makes me think of hot, sticky thighs. Not a sexy thing actually. I tried talcum powder on my thighs in summer when they would rub together if I wore a skirt. It didn't work so I usually wore pants. Burning thighs are not so sexy when it's actual pain you're talking about, unwelcome pain.  Of course, if you are into pain, try wearing nylon stockings under a skirt and spend the day out walking somewhere. (I don't know if people with very slender thighs would get the same mileage on that one).

What thoughts or memories does talcum powder bring you?

Originally posted as my introduction to my site, Divorce Darling.

I’m not a professional Domme and don’t want to become one, though I admit the money is tempting. I’m a writer. I write fiction and non-fiction. Sometimes I like to draw too.

I think the biggest challenge in having a FemDom relationship is keeping it that way. If she isn’t having fun and loving what she is doing most likely the focus has gone back to his needs/ wants instead of theirs (as a couple).

Men want to meet Dommes, real women who enjoy Dominating men. However, men don’t seem to understand that we are real women, people too. We have interests, thoughts and lives that have nothing to do with tying men up, teasing and tormenting them. (As much fun as all that is).

I’m writing this blog for myself mainly. I used to write a weekly column called Bait & Switch for Adult BackWash. (BackWash is closed now). I would write about sex, kinky stuff, fetishes, online dating, romance, passion and sensuality. I also wrote about my views as a woman who likes treating men as my own personal sex toy.

Don’t think that I’m some experienced professional, cause I’m not. I never have been. I’m a woman you could meet any day and pass without suspecting I was anything but someone’s sister/ daughter/ aunt. Just think about that… how do you know you didn’t see me today? I’m a nice girl, a romantic. I tend to be quiet and polite and I’m thinking a lot behind my glasses. I’m the woman your Mother would like you to bring home.

Isn’t that ironic?

I like teasing men while they can’t do much about it. I like the idea of keeping a man in a cage or tied hand and foot to the frame of the doorway, or told to wear a bib in the restaurant. I like having a man who does it all, not because he has to, not because he could not escape the bondage or just say No, but because he wants to. I like a man who is strong, independent, intelligent and submissive (but only to me). I’m not into sharing quite that much.

I like a home made brand of D/s. Where instead of spending money on toys from a catalogue I am creative and use my own ideas and imagination. I really like having something ordinary become extraordinary fun in a kinky way. It gives you a whole new outlook each time you open a drawer in the kitchen, especially that junk drawer with all the odds and ends.

I also like writing fiction, Femdom fiction. I’ve won 2nd place in an erotica writing contest run (in part) by Gloria Brame but that was several years ago. Still, it was quite an honour to me at the time. I have some of my erotic fiction online, even though BackWash is not available, I had another source previous to my work there. I’ve been published in The Dominant’s View at least twice. (Looks like that’s gone now too).

Anyway, this is as much information as I feel like giving away right now.

Comments from the original post:

westfal May 8, 2013 you sound wonderfully normal and real tg!

Ayesha June 17, 2013 “Men want to meet Dommes, real women who enjoy Dominating men.” Yeah right! That’s what the creeps are saying. Here’s reality. Men want to meet submissive women who are willing to ‘dominate’ them on their terms.

Femdom is only for born slaves and dominas, Laura. We have it in our DNA. No escape possible.