tagBDSMShe Takes What She Wants

She Takes What She Wants

byChristopherDB©

Previous stories in this series: Off-Road Goddess, Paddled in the Boondocks, Lunch With A Dominatrix, A Painful Test.

*

Pulling into the parking lot of my apartment complex one weekend afternoon, I saw my friend Mike unloading a set of new wheels from the back of his small 4x4 pickup. Oversize heavy lugged tires mounted on plain black painted steel rims. He was rolling them one at a time to the side door of his building, which led to the laundry room and storage bins.

"Looks like you bought a set of play tires," I said, walking up to him. Play tires. A term that Miss Julia used to describe wheels like these that she put on her Jeep when driving off-road. Mike considered her to be a psycho bitch so I was not surprised when his response was only half a smile and a grunt as he hefted one wheel down the short flight of stairs to the side door. I grabbed another wheel and followed him inside where I saw that Mike had a lot more work ahead of him. I would have had the sense to clear some space in my storage bin before bringing home four massive wheels.

Before I left him to his task, he invited me to go four-wheeling and camping with him and some of his friends next weekend. I had to assume that Miss Julia would be there and we had not parted on the best of terms. Perhaps I should have taken some time to make my decision but thinking that other people would be around, the worst thing that could happen would be that she would give me the cold shoulder treatment or possibly some insulting remarks. I could handle that, so I accepted his invitation.

As the following week wore on, I began to get nervous about facing Miss Julia. We had originally met on one of these four-wheeling trips. A beautiful and strong willed brunette, several years older than I. When I learned she liked to dominate her boyfriends, I confessed to her that having a female domination session had always been a fantasy of mine.

She was more than happy to let me worship the rubber boots that she wore, and then she whipped my bare ass with her belt. Ever since then she preferred that I address her as Miss Julia and it was difficult now for me to think of her as just Julia.

We got together several times after that for domination sessions, and then dated seriously for almost two months. I had been the one to terminate our relationship just as it was really starting to evolve.

Having been invited to a shack on a horse farm where she lived for free in exchange for doing odd jobs, she had given me a savage beating with a riding crop. Miss Julia claimed it was a test to prove if I was worthy of being her boyfriend, being able to withstand such a punishment which might be necessary in the future. While I had endured the pain as best I could, she told me that I had failed the test.

I was then forced to worship her asshole until she had a powerful orgasm. It had been extremely arousing at time, though afterwards I felt degraded as she made it clear that licking her asshole might be the only use that she would have for me in her bedroom. Then she kicked me out the door, saying that she would call me later to schedule another test.

Several weeks passed without hearing from Miss Julia, and over those days I thought a lot about the times she and I had spent together. There were dinners and other activities that a dating couple would do, but also paddling and whippings that she had administered with enthusiasm. She was clearly a lifestyle dominatrix and had used my female domination fantasies, my fetishes for sexy boots, high heels, and of course her beauty, to lure me under her control. Miss Julia had taken me further than I had imagined beyond my limits of pain, submission, and obedience.

She had taken me to a world where she ruled and even if I wasn't at her feet all the time, I was still under her command. Had I been her boyfriend, while I would have been free to make my own decisions, she would always have the final say. To disobey her would result in a harsh punishment, which she would be all too happy to administer to reinforce her position of authority. I had not been willing to enter into such a relationship and so I began dating someone else, although in the end that did not work out either.

The four-wheeling trip with Mike and his friends followed pretty much the same plan as the first one that I went on. We left the apartment complex early on a Saturday morning and met at a remote outpost of a convenient store gas station, located near a national forest. I'd helped Mike put his new tires on his truck the night before, and they were noisy on the pavement. The ride was bouncy and seemed unstable. Having to restrain his lead foot, we arrived a bit late.

Dave, a burly redneck dude, and his chunky girlfriend Sue were already there, standing beside a different Jeep than I had seen last time. This one was a modified rust bucket that had at one time been painted a dark green, fitted with monster tires that I doubted were street legal. Miss Julia's yellow Jeep was there, sporting her play tires, and she was chatting casually with them while attracting admiring stares from a young man over by the gas pumps. After we pulled up, Dave immediately started checking out Mike's new tires.

"Hello, Eric," Miss Julia said to me, turning her nose up slightly. She was wearing her black rubber riding boots as I had expected, and they looked freshly cleaned with a low shine. Her fine ass was molded into a pair of Daisy Dukes that seemed higher cut than normal, and her raven dark wavy hair spilled over the shoulders of a well worn red plaid flannel shirt that had the sleeves cut off and was unbuttoned enough to recklessly display her cleavage. It made sense that she had gotten word that I would be coming along and had purposely dressed to tease me as a subtle form of revenge.

I caught a faint trace of perfume as she strutted coldly past me, then bent over to inspect Mike's tires, purposefully tilting her ass so it would be provocatively displayed for me. She only looked at the new wheels for a moment and then taunted Mike, saying he would only dig himself into more trouble and need both her and Dave to pull him out.

After some discussion it was decided to start with the route we took on the last trip. While Dave considered that to normally be easy driving, there had been some heavy rains in the area over the last few days so conditions were going to be muddy and more difficult. Assuming Mike's tires worked well enough, we would use a fire access road to get to a more challenging area.

Conditions on the trail were indeed muddy. We had to stop early because Mike's windshield was completely smeared with mud and he hadn't thought to fill the washer fluid reservoir before the trip.

While the others watched him attempt to clean the glass with a rag, I found an empty two liter soda bottle off in the brush. After I filled it with water from a ditch, I told Mike to pop the hood so I could pour it in his washer fluid tank. Though Miss Julia was cool, aloof, and silent during this whole stop, I thought I caught a glimpse of a small grin on her face, as if she were somehow pleased that I had been resourceful enough to solve the problem.

Once back on the trail she led our procession at a responsible pace. Dave seemed to be held back, purposely spinning his tires and fishtailing around in any shallow mud available. Splattered and bringing up the rear, I was glad I had thought to top off the bottle of water before we got moving again as Mike was often squirting down his windshield and the reservoir would probably have to be refilled later.

His new tires seemed to make a big difference and we made good progress. After a short while we took the fire road to a more difficult trail. Here, Mike's success and resulting cockiness were his undoing at a long deeply rutted twisting section that was known locally as the gauntlet.

Miss Julia had barely made it through and Dave left a wallowed mess that left us stuck halfway in. It was a lot of work getting him out, using the winch on Miss Julia's Jeep, as well as some heavy chains and a come-along that Dave had.

We all took a short rest after that. I was relieving myself behind a tree when suddenly Dave and Sue drove off. To my surprise, Mike started up his truck and followed after them without me. Walking back to the muddy trail, Miss Julia was already behind the wheel of her Jeep, the engine idling softly. The window was down on the passenger side and she called out,

"You're riding with me." It was an order, not an invitation, and as the sound of the other vehicles faded off down the trail, I knew I had no choice but to obey.

I had ridden in her Jeep a number of times before, but never off-road. The stereo was turned off and I saw the stubby shifter for the transfer case was engaged in four wheel drive. I had to roll up my window as she seemed to purposely brush the sides of trees so that small branches would whip and snap inside and close to my face. Her tall boots were coated with a film of drying mud, but otherwise she managed to remain clean. Staying in second gear, we lagged further and further behind the others, and I assumed that was intentional.

While her demeanor was calm and collected, her silence was deafening over the sound of tires splashing through the shallow muddy ruts and the low rumble of the engine. Paranoia began to set in as I realized that Mike had seen me with Sandra in the parking lot of our apartment complex. She was the young lady I had dated after breaking things off with Miss Julia.

It was entirely possible that Miss Julia had contacted Mike and asked him if I was dating anyone. He would have ratted me out for certain. While I consider him to be a good friend, I know that he is intimidated by Miss Julia and would be a willing stool pigeon for her. No doubt she had ordered him to drive off without me, and he probably complied without any question. For all I knew, this whole trip could have been planned by Miss Julia as an opportunity for us to be together.

At a curve in the trail she slowed and downshifted into first gear. Barely crawling along now, she seemed to be looking for something on her side of the trail. I briefly saw the slight parting in the brush which looked like an overgrown footpath before Miss Julia turned the steering wheel hard, stomped on the gas, and blasted into the woods. We were on an overgrown road and it only went a short distance before ending at a small clearing. Miss Julia shut off the engine, ratcheted the parking brake lever, and opened her door.

"Let's get out and talk," she said in a low menacing voice.

The ground here was soft and muddy. A crippled picnic table was off to one side and rusty remains of fire ring, now filled with weed growth, which told me that this was a back country campsite that saw little use. I walked around to the front of the Jeep and faced Miss Julia, who was standing with her hands on her hips and had a dark scowl on her face.

"About a month ago I called your office and you didn't answer your phone. I called later in the day, the main number this time, your receptionist said you were in and transferred my call. Still, I got your voice mail. That time I left a message for you. What was that message?" Miss Julia asked in a cold voice.

"You said something like I had four hours to call you back, Miss Julia," I weakly replied.

"But you didn't call me back," she said. "And now I demand an explanation."

It was true that I hadn't called her back, and at the time I had feared some sort of retribution. I thought she might show up at my apartment some evening to confront me but nothing had happened so I thought I was safe. Now it seemed that Miss Julia was ready to take care of some unfinished business.

Of all the female domination porn I have looked at, some of my favorite photos are at the beginning of a series, where the man is being confronted by his mistress. You know he is going to be punished and it is clear that he is helpless and has no choice but to accept whatever she cares to dish out. I knew I was in that situation right now, and there was nothing arousing about it.

Though I know little about martial arts, her stance had that sort of quality. If I were unwise and tried to attack her I would probably be flipped over her shoulder and stomped into the mud. If I was foolish enough to run I would probably be quickly tackled. Either way I would be painfully forced to answer all her questions.

Even if Mike hadn't told her that I had dated someone else, if I lied and was caught trying to deceive her, there would be hell to pay. Without thinking any further, I dropped to my knees and told her everything. How the last time we spent together, the painful test of being whipped by her riding crop had been too much for me to bear.

"You are a sexy goddess, Miss Julia," I said. "The dominatrix of my dreams, but I can't take the heavy punishment."

I confessed that shortly after our last session I had met Sandra and dated her for a few weeks. "It was then that you called, Miss Julia, and I was too afraid to talk to you. I didn't think you would understand." My voice was wavering and I realized I had clasped my hands together under my chin in the classic begging and pleading position.

"Where is this Sandra now?" she asked, taking a few steps forward to stand directly in front of me.

"We're no longer seeing each other, Miss Julia," I explained. "It just didn't work out. Her family, they are very close knit. My family lives out of state. I think I told you that once before. I moved here right after college and rarely have contact with them. It's just better that way. Sandra and her family, they thought that was strange and always confronted me about that."

I knew enough to safely assume that Miss Julia's upbringing had been rough. That probably influenced her as an adult, now taking charge of her own life and the few others close to her. If I had seemingly left my past behind that was probably something she could relate to and I hoped that would buy me some sympathy.

"We just stopped going out and it was a mutual decision. I can put you in touch with her if you don't believe me, Miss Julia," my voice now tapering into a squeaky pleading tone.

She raised a muddy booted foot and rested it on one of my shoulders. She ground the muddy sole into my shoulder as if adjusting her balance, but then suddenly pushed me over backwards. In a split second I was flat on my back. Miss Julia stood over me and then planted her boot in the center of my chest. As I lay there helpless on the ground I could feel the cool wet mud soaking into my clothing and my hair.

"That was disrespectful to not call me back, Eric," Miss Julia said in a raised voice, staring down at me with her dark eyes. "You disrespected me and for that you deserve to be punished. Now, since you think I'm too rough and you are too much of a wimp to take it, I'm going to be nice and give you a choice. Look over there!" she ordered, pointing a finger towards the woods. From my view on the ground, at first I saw nothing but trees. Then I realized she was pointing at a marker on a tree for a hiking trail.

"You either take your punishment like a man, right now, or you're hiking out of here. I'll give you a bottle of water and a sandwich. If you set a good pace you can make it to a shelter at the trailhead a few hours from now and we'll pick you up there later. This is a rare and generous offer, so what do you want to do?"

There was no way of knowing what sort of punishment she had in mind. Her skimpy cutoff shorts were circled at the waist with the sort of belt I associate with heavy metal rockers. Wide, with the black leather barely visible between multiple rows of square chrome lightly pointed studs. Wielded by Miss Julia, that belt would be more than effective for a harsh whipping. However, it seemed to me that she had planned this encounter in advance and could easily have her homemade wooden paddle, riding crop, or who knows what other implements on board her Jeep.

"What's it going to be?" Miss Julia demanded to know for the second time, momentarily removing her boot from my chest and lightly kicking some mud towards the side of my face.

"I'll take the punishment I deserve, Miss Julia," I said, spitting a small piece of mud from my lips. "I'll submit willingly, Miss Julia."

She seemed surprised by my answer, and while I'd had little time to consider my choices, accepting my fate seemed like the smartest move. Miss Julia would probably let me hike out unharmed if I wished, but I had no doubt she would hold a grudge and I'd find myself at her feet sometime in the future, forced to make a similar choice again.

Having decided to take the punishment, there was no point wasting my time begging for her to be merciful. Miss Julia would do as she pleased no matter how much I might beg.

"Take off your clothes," she ordered, walking over to the driver's door of her Jeep.

I stood up and began to remove my wet muddy clothes. The hood of her Jeep was splattered with mud but was warm and might help my clothes to dry, so I hung them over the edge in front of the radiator.

Miss Julia was taking her time, rummaging through her camping gear that was stowed behind the driver's seat. That made me pretty nervous, but I couldn't help getting aroused at the thought of being punished by her. When she finally came around to the front of her Jeep my cock was fully erect.

Giving my penis a disapproving look, with a swipe of an arm she knocked my clothes from the hood of her Jeep onto the ground. Taking one step forward, her dirty boot pressing the pile of clothing into the oozing mud, she tossed a package at my feet.

"Pick it up," she ordered. I complied and examined the contents of the flimsy plastic grocery bag. What looked like a plain bologna sandwich on white bread, a small bottle of water, and an energy bar of some kind. There was also a folded piece of yellow paper on which I could see part of a trail map.

"My offer still stands," Miss Julia said in a challenging tone. "I'm going to give you the punishment you deserve. If at any time you feel you can't take it, then grab your clothes and hit the trail without looking back. Understood?"

"Yes, Miss Julia," I said obediently.

"Go cut me a switch," she said, handing me a small pocketknife and pointing towards the woods.

I was surprised by her instructions but walked carefully on my bare feet across the overgrown campsite. While I love the outdoors I am highly allergic to poison ivy and always keep a sharp lookout for it when I'm in the woods. Being naked in the woods, I was especially careful.

I remember hearing somewhere that a common punishment for children in rural areas was to be sent by a parent to bring them a switch to whip them with. Allegedly going to get the switch was just as bad as the whipping. The stress of knowing the pain that was coming, and by willingly bringing the switch you would partially be responsible for that pain.

Staying at the edge of the tree line so as not to enter the thick scrub growth where I saw a lot of poison ivy, I cut a slim branch from a tree. The pocketknife she had given me looked very old. The bone inlay on the handle and metal casing showed signs of wear. The stubby blade was wider at the base from having been sharpened to a razor edge over what was probably many decades.

As I walked carefully back to Miss Julia, she was leaning against the broken picnic table. The plastic bag was on the ground by her muddy boots. The opened bottle of water was in one of her hands and she was taking another bite from the energy bar.

She made a big production of inspecting the switch after I handed it to her. A three foot long slender branch with smooth bark. I'd already removed the leaves from it and used the knife to smooth out the nubs where the stems had connected. The switch made an intimidating sound as Miss Julia sliced it though the air several times.

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byChristopherDB© 6 comments/ 21559 views/ 3 favorites

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