A Femdom Bachelorette Pt. 06

Story Info
Kendra takes control as only a switch would.
5.6k words
4.83
3k
2

Part 6 of the 6 part series

Updated 03/05/2024
Created 02/16/2024
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Entering the dungeon, I found Kendra sitting on a couch opposite the mirror wall. She had not changed out of her evening dress, a black satin number with spaghetti straps and a pleated skirt. "I have a bit of a pickle, thing" she told me, and patted the couch for me to sit next to her. "I told you when we met that I was a switch, didn't I?"

"You did, Ma'am."

"Yeah." she said. "This weekend has been a lot of fun and truthfully I think I could put together a few weeks that would really make your head spin, but that isn't my problem. My problem is that I'm like, 70/30 submissive/dominant most of the time, and I poured a lot of energy into that dominant part and my submissive part is kind of unhappy."

"Oh," I said, getting the smallest inkling of where this might be going but not daring to hope.

"Also," she said, "look at this fucking place. This is the nicest dungeon I've ever seen. Do you know how many times someone has tried to be all lord and master in a millennial gray apartment with an unused reed diffuser?"

"Too many, I'm betting" I said.

"Show me the basement room," she said, "I know it's there but I didn't want to break the mirror or something." I stood up and walked to the far end of the mirror. The last panel on the wall pushed in with a hearty 'click' and then swung outwards; it was essentially just a large cabinet door. I stepped to the side and made an 'enter, please' sweep of my hand. Kendra walked into the room and I followed behind her.

I mentioned earlier how much I treasured this room. The entire dungeon was hewn out of rock, and in this section I had them wire in plumbing and electrical but no floor, no drywall, so you were surrounded by hard rock on three sides, plus the floor and ceiling. The back of the mirror was covered with cinder blocks that I had caked with mud and allowed cobwebs to build up. The lighting in the room was a harsh fluorescent, nothing like the adjustable LEDs that lit the main room. They actually were adjustable LEDs, just set to fairly garish settings, and one gave a false flicker as we stood there, perfectly reinforcing the atmosphere. There was a space heater in the corner that wasn't on, so the room had the kind of cool stillness you can find in a cave. Against the far wall a foot of heavy chain was anchored to the wall, with a heavy steel collar dangling from the end of it. Scratch marks surrounded where the chain met the wall, complete with just a touch of blood. A filthy bucket sat next to the setup. It did not actually contain any waste, but it looked like it should. Along one of the side walls was a small card table and a pair of metal chairs, and on the opposite wall was a work sink, a cracked mirror, and a chest of drawers and then in the far corner was a thin, faded mattress on a metal bedframe. God, I loved this room.

Kendra was walking a circuit of the room, taking a closer look at everything. "I may never be in a dungeon this sick again," she said, "and to be honest the space is not currently tingling the dominant bones in my body."

"Believe me," I said, "I get it. But are you asking for what I think you're asking?"

Kendra reached into her purse and pulled out the chastity key. She tossed it to me. "I want you to drop the submissive routine and you're either going to be dominant or pretend to be, whatever you're capable of. I would deeply prefer you don't disappoint me in this regard, but I guess that's the chance I'm taking. Can you do that?"

"I can," I said.

A moment passed. "What do you want? Pain? Restraint? Humiliation?"

"When I say "go," thing, I want you to treat me like a captured piece of fuckmeat. I want you to humiliate me, degrade me, punish me, use me. Use your imagination. Get deep with it."

"You're sure about this?" I asked.

"Yes." she said. "One question: do you think you can do this without climaxing?

"Yes," I said, honestly kind of unsure but not wanting to pass up what was about to happen.

"Then don't. I want this to be a blink in your submissive weekend."

"Got it, Ma'am."

"Okay, your safewords are my safewords, got it? So: Go."

I felt an intense rush come over me. Inside I was scrambling for what I wanted to do and how I wanted to do it, but this felt like an opportunity I did not want to miss. I had been dominant plenty of times in my life - trying it on, doing it because it's what a partner wanted, just to scratch an itch every so often. It didn't feel like an honest expression of my soul or whatever, but I knew how to enjoy myself. I straightened up and Kendra got a look in her eyes, almost like she was trying to take an ember of fear and submission and coax it into a fire. I crossed the room in long strides and grabbed her by the hair.

"You can't do this to me!" she said, loudly, theatrically, and I took that as a cue for what she wanted.

"Yes I can," I said, and I spun her around by her hair and snaked an arm around her neck. "Are you going to stop me?" I reached my other hand around and ripped her dress down, exposing her tanned tits. I groped them, hard, and she cried out. Her hands thrashed at me but I shoved them aside. I dragged her by her neck and rushed to push her against the back wall, being careful to slide a hand behind her head before it smacked into the stone. Swapping my elbow for my hand, I put a very light pressure on her throat. "I can do anything I want with you," I said. "Nobody knows you're here, nobody can hear you scream, and no one is coming to rescue you. You play nice or you get hurt."

She spit in my face. "Oh, that's very nice, I said, my voice thick with sarcasm as I wiped it off with my hand. "Very nice." I put two hands around her throat and carefully guided her down to her knees. Using my body to press hers against the wall, I opened the heavy metal collar at the end of the chain and closed it around her neck. Like everything else in my dungeon I stored the lock and key right in place, so it was simple to snap the padlock shut and toss the key across the room. I took a few steps backward and she tested the range of motion, stopping with a bit of a jerk when the chain ran out. "You should be able to stand comfortably on your knees, or sit down. If you're a good girl you might get to lie down to go to sleep."

"Fuck you," she said.

"You have to be an extra good girl to earn that," I said, "But let's start with paying you back for that little cute little spitting outburst." I crossed the room to the chest of drawers. In a moment I would exit to the main room and get more gear, but I kept a few things in the chest of drawers that I felt like fit the vibe or would come in handy when playing in here. I opened a drawer and pulled out a half dozen zip ties. Without turning around, I took the chastity key Kendra had given me and quickly unlocked myself, sliding the cage off and leaving the ring as a cock ring.

"What are you doing?" she asked nervously from across the room.

"Shut up," I said. I closed a long zip tie into a substantial loop and, walking behind her now kneeling form, quickly lassoed her hands into the loop. She started pulling them out and I grabbed her wrist. "Cooperate or I'll put this around your neck," I said.

"Fuck you," she said again. "Have it your way," I said, and I snapped the zip tie shut just above her elbows. I did so fairly slowly, trying to see where her flexibility was and I knew I could slide it down to her hands if she said yellow and all the way off if she said red. She did nothing of the sort, whimpering as her elbows came together and she realized that the zip ties had very little give in them. Another went around her wrists and she whimpered again.

"What was that?" I asked. "Did you say something?"

"Fuck you," her voice giving away a little tremble, as if someone has started to realize they really might be in a bad situation.

"You sit tight, little fuckhole. I'll be right back."

I looped back to the chest of drawers and pulled out an old, dirty, patched-up canvas sack. This was to get gear from the main room into the basement room - the little cart, while handy, didn't fit the mood. I hustled out to the main room and grabbed some things I was sure I was going to use and some things that I just might find use for. I paused for a moment before heading back in the room. I wanted Kendra to stew with the weight of the collar around her neck and the unforgiving zip ties cutting into her arms, but also I just wanted to catch my breath, take in what was happening. Maybe I'm dead, I thought. Maybe this is my eternal reward. But if that was the case I'd probably be allowed an orgasm.

I re-entered the room, doing my best to look at Kendra with pure, unadulterated, sadistic lust. What had she asked to be? A humiliated, degraded, punished piece of fuckmeat. Perfect. I left the gear back on the little table and walked back over to where Kendra was now on her knees. I stood in front of her, unbuttoned my fly, and dropped my pants and underwear down to my knees. My cock was standing at attention. She looked at it fearfully. "That's right," I said. "Open." She clenched her teeth and turned away. I reached down and grabbed one of her tits, twisting and pinching the nipple. She gasped and I tried to thrust my cock into her mouth, but then panicked and pulled away as I saw her bear her teeth and try to chomp down. "Oh that's not very nice at all!" I said, though inside I was overjoyed with her spirit and sense of play. I went back to my gear back and pulled out a spider gag, letting it dangle from my hand as I returned. She made a show of clamping her mouth shut. I tried twisting a nipple again and though she grunted in pain she did not unclamp her mouth. I squeezed down on her nose and her eyes shot open, and after a few seconds she yielded and opened her mouth in a gasp. The gag slid in, got rotated into position, and I was able to quickly buckle it behind her head. I dropped my pants and underwear again and grabbed her head, sinking my cock into her forced-open mouth.

It was glorious. I hadn't had an ounce of direct stimulation since Thursday and now I was being treated to an angry, sloppy blowjob. I was in heaven. I wanted desperately to pump away at her face until I could cum all over it, but I knew that wasn't in the cards this evening. I tried to get as sloppy a blowjob as I could get going and pulled out, rubbing my dick all over her face. I spat down at her for good measure. Pulling my pants up, I went back to my gear bag.

Coming back across the room I held up two clover-style nipple clamps I had customized with sizeable sleigh bells on them. "I want you to know that you cannot escape," I said, "But I like extra layers of security. With these on your tits, if you happen to go anywhere I'll hear you running!" This was silly - if she were escaping she would obviously take the nipple clamps off. But I liked that angle, it was fun to be a dumb kind of sinister. She groaned as the clamps went on. "Sit tight, sweetheart," I told her, exiting the room to grab a beer out of the small fridge in the dungeon's bar. I took my time walking back, just trying to gameplan the rest of the evening. Re-entering the room, I took in the sight. The iron collar on the wall held a gorgeous woman, her makeup smeared, her mouth wrenched open by a gag, drool hanging down over her amazing tits, which were adorned with clamps and jangling every time she moved.

"Oh, don't you just look like the most desperate little slut," I said.

"No," she said, or that was what I took her to be saying. The gag made it a bit unclear.

"Yes you are," I said, walking closer. "Tell me this. If you weren't a dirty, disgusting little slut, why would this treatment make you so wet?" Her dress had been pulled down to expose her tits, and I pulled it up to expose her crotch. "Okay, you're not even wearing panties. Filthy fucking slut. And this-" here I grabbed at her pussy, which was indeed soaking wet. I stuck my fingers in, teasing her clit with my thumb. A small moan escaped her mouth. "Uh huh, I said, thought so, thought so." I took my hand out and smeared that across her face too.

"yeh-oh," I heard her say. I snapped to attention and dropped down.

"Talk to me," I said.

"Hands fell asleep a few minutes ago and I need to change that up."

"Otherwise?" I asked.

"Loving this." I went in the back pocket of my pants for the snips and removed the zip ties on her arms. I decided to just let this pass without comment instead of trying to work in some logic to it. I left the basement room, grabbed the female-sized leather cuffs off the gear rack and returned, quickly fastening on the padded cuffs and locking her hands together behind her back.

I leaned in close and whispered in her ear. "The thing is, I know you're a filthy little slut. And deep down inside, you know you're a filthy little slut. But there's this pesky little ego in the way, this bitchy little part of your brain that wants to think you're something more than a set of holes to be stuffed whenever someone superior wants to stuff them. We're going to address that part of your brain. We're going to kill it, and all that will be left is a willing little cock socket."

"huck you" she said through the gag. I said nothing and moved around the room for a chair, a cinder block, the key to the collar I had thrown, and a few lengths of rope. I stood on the chair to reach a d-ring I had anchored through the ceiling. Looping a rope through the d-ring, I tied the other end to her wrist cuffs and unlocked the heavy iron collar. I pulled on the rope, dragging her into position underneath the anchor point. Picking up a cinder block from the floor, I placed it in front of her. I quickly made a hitch above her hands and took some slack out of the line. She could probably move a fair bit at this point, and if she wanted to she could kick me, but I got the sense that at this point she would be along for the ride. Using a thinner rope, I connected the two nipple clamps to the cinder block and again put in a hitch and took some slack out of it. I went back to her hands and levered them up to a position I thought should be juuuuuust outside of a painful height. I then went back to the cinder block and shortened that line so that there was a lot of tension pulling down on the nipple clamps. She cried out in pain.

"It's simple," I said. "If your nipples hurt just lean forward." She did so and her arms took on a significantly sharper angle and she cried out again. "Hmm," I said, "Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you're screwed no matter what you do."

I retrieved my beer from the table, picked up the chair, and sat down a few feet away from her. It was a gorgeous sight, and I just sat there for a moment, watching her move the tension from one point to the other, the bells jingling, her drool leaking out on to the floor, her feet shuffling around as she struggled with the fact that no position was comfortable. "If you admit that you're a filthy fucking slut I might take some mercy on you."

"Ihh ot a slut" she managed.

"Have it your way," I said, and took another sip of beer. I felt like I was doing OK on punishing at this moment, but was there a way to dial up the humiliation? I had a brilliant idea. Picking her purse up off the floor where she had dropped it, I took out her phone. Throughout the weekend I had seen that she had Face ID enabled, and I held the phone under her gagged and smeared face and saw the menu blink onto the screen. I stepped back and took a few shot, moving to get different angles, including a few close on her glistening cunt. "I need a good caption," I said, "because I'm posting this to all your shit." I thought she might safeword at this point to check whether or not I was actually doing that, but honestly it would be a pretty heinous thing to do and I guess she trusted that I wasn't a monster because all she did was mewl no no no no no. "Yesssss," I said. "Okay, how's this: Hi everyone! I wanted to come clean with all of you about what a filthy fucking slut I am. This is me this last weekend, covered in cock juice and spit in some stranger's basement because I was so desperate for his cock that I agreed to let him do anything he wanted to me. Being used like a slutty little fuckhole isn't just my biggest turn-on, I feel like it's my entire purpose in life and I want to make sure everyone knows it." She whimpered. I stood up and took the gag out. "Let's get some video, shall we?" I started recording.

"No," she said, "fuck you. He's doing this to me and I hate it and please god somebody help me."

"That won't do," I said. "I'm deleting that." I left it, but set the phone down to take more slack out of both of the lines. Now there was constant tension on both ends. "Let's try again, maybe something more spirited about how you're grateful you're being punished for being such a disgusting slut you're very sorry but you still need my hard cock." I hit record again.

"Fuck you," she said. I was pretty impressed at this point that she didn't take the out. I knew she was flexible but it was really cranking on her arms and her nipples had to be on fire. I took more slack out of the lines and hit record again. She cried out in pain.

"I can wait," I said, and I picked up my beer. I took another sip as a solid half-minute passed.

"Okay!" she cried.

"Okay what," I asked.

"Okay I'm a slut or whatever!"

"No, you need to do better than that."

"Okay I'm a filthy fucking slut, I'm so grateful for you for punishing me and trying to help me correct my ways but I'm still a huge slut and I need hard cock in me so so badly!"

"Much better!" I said, cutting off the recording. I used the snips in my pocket to quickly cut the line that was holding her nipples down and stepped around her to move the hitch on her arm rope down. I felt like I had cleared the "active resistance" bar and now I wanted to draw all the begging energy out of her I could. The predicament bondage had clearly worn her out a bit, as she offered no physical resistance when I dragged her over to one of the metal chairs. The chairs were tricked out to facilitate bondage - selective holes drilled or loops welded in to allow for anchoring and other tricks. Using zip ties I clipped her hands to the chair railings, then used two more leather cuffs and more zip ties to fasten her feet to the chair legs.

Now that she was properly fastened I took up position behind her and told her because she had been a good little slut when moving to the chair I was going to take the nipple clamps off. She whimpered. She knew, as all people who have worn clamps or clips even once, they hurt a hell of a lot coming off. I told her to take a deep breath, let it out, take another deep one in, and I pulled the first clamp off. She cried out in pain, but with the deep breathing being cued didn't start hyperventilating or anything. The second clamp came off much the same way. Her nipples looked red and sore, the imprints of the clamps visible in the flesh. It was insanely hot. I decided to take a brief detour to grab another length of rope and tied a quick chest harness around her upper torso, squeezing her breasts between layers of rope and making them poke out from her body.

That done, I revealed the chair's ultimate trick. Right between her legs it looked like the chair had a gap in the seat, maybe for design or to keep people's butts from getting sweaty or whatever. What they were in reality was a pair of swing-loaded doors, that could be opened to let a magic wand head through then closed to hold the vibrator by the neck. This left it in perfect position for a slut to grind their needy little cunt against. This one was the older magic wand, with the cord, and I plugged the vibrator into a foot pedal switch extension cord, one that I'm pretty sure was designed to let people switch their christmas lights on and off. I switched it to 'off,' turned the vibrator up to a medium setting, and grabbed the other chair, setting myself up opposite Kendra with my foot on the pedal. She looked up at me, eyes wide. Without saying anything, I switched on the vibrator. Her eyes closed instantly and her head started to roll back. I counted a solid four seconds in my head and shut the vibrator off again. I had never edged anyone with a vibrator but I had been edged with one, and edged by hand, so I was hoping that I would have an intuitive sense of things. I kept very close eye on Kendra, watching her breathing, trying to see where she was clenching muscles, and switching between quick-on-and-off and more sustained vibrating before longer cool downs. I wanted her to be overcome by the teasing, to stop thinking.

12