Country Road Ch. 01

(A not-true story inspired by the country life of a real-life domme, who is a friend.). The story starts off slowly but gets exciting enough. Hardcore femdom occurs in Chapter II. If you don't like serious female domination or people in their 60s having sex, move on to something else.)

When the doorbell rang, Joanne had been looking at herself naked in the mirror. What she saw did not displease her but she wasn't entirely happy either. She was 62 after all, so what did she expect? But as she studied her quite tall frame -- 6'4"--she thought, not too bad! She was a full figured, very tall woman. Not fat, but voluptuous and curvy, although carrying a few extra pounds around her belly. Her very large breasts suited her large body as did her ample buttocks. Her areolas were large and brown against her white skin, with large nipples sticking up in the center, hard from the cool air in the house.

She like it cool. Still, the breasts sagged some, but not as much as one might have expected from her age and their size. Her long hair was silver gray. It looked good because she took good care of it. Her arms and legs looked toned, from a long-standing habit of working out with weights. Her pubic region, always large and hairy--that was still the case--was not very gray. At least, not yet. She did not fully understand why that was the case. She didn't mind either way. The days seemed long past when anyone would see it anyway. Or so she thought.

She was fully retired now. Her mind wandered back to her career about which she had many fond memories. She had been a dominatrix. A good one, too. She remembers how it wasn't what she intended to do when emerging from college, but an acquaintance put the idea in her head, saying her height and assertive demeanor made her a natural.

He had been right. Navigating those early days by starting out in one of the commercial dungeons in New York and then eventually transitioning out on her own had made for a lucrative career. And she really enjoyed it to boot! Dominating men for a living, tying them up, whipping them, teasing, tormenting them, making them thank her for it on their knees had been a rush she loved every time. Occasionally, with special clients, she would even "rape" them.

Joanne had been retired for about four years now, moving from the city to rural Vermont. She had always loved the outdoors, the peace and quiet of nature and animals. Indeed, the only downside to working in the city was that she had been away from that environment for so long. She was by birth a country girl who had made it pretty big -- no pun intended -- in the big city. Her size and shape had made her pretty unique in the profession and had allowed her, once experienced, to charge a premium compared to the average for her field. She had retired quite comfortably.

Her mind wandered to her many--thousands, really--clients over her 30-year career. They were mostly men, usually she met them only once or twice, but she had developed a lucrative list of "regulars." They were the gems--the ones who came back to her over and over again, several for 15 years or more. If they were kind and sincere, she liked them. But her favorites were short, thin, submissive men! She could dominate them with ease with her superior height and strength--and relished doing so. There was nothing quite like the rush of having a small, weak male totally in her power!

Yet, she sort of regretted she had not found someone to settle down with in retirement, not that some of her clients hadn't suggested it. But she felt most were just imagining a permanent unpaid session with her. She wanted a real partner to enjoy life with at this point, although she certainly would want him obedient and submissive. When she moved away from New York, she dismissed the idea that it would happen. She had always been content alone, too, so she was good with it.

When the the doorbell rang, it shocked her mind back to the present. She had just finished some outside work--there was a lot of it at her very secluded country place--and had just showered. The last thing she expected was her door to ring--who could it be all the way out here? She threw on some tight black yoga pants and a sweatshirt. She thought about her gun in the hall drawer and checked it to make sure it was easy to grab but left it in its place. She then opened the door. She shushed her two old dogs who barked half-heartedly at the sound and smiled at her two cats who didn't care what the dogs saw or heard and kept on sleeping.

Jack had been driving along the rural road in Vermont when he heard his car start to sputter and then eventually stop. Oh, fuck, he thought. That's just great. It's Friday at 5:00 pm and I'm broken down in the middle of nowhere. He had gas--so it was a real problem.

He had been out driving on a vacation by himself. His beloved wife had passed away three years ago and he was taking the time to enjoy driving the countryside, something she had not enjoyed. He was far from home, however, as he retired not long after his wife died. The sad, ironic result of her untimely death was that he was better off financially. He had inherited his wife's retirement account, all their assets, and he was childless. At age 60, he had discovered he could do whatever he wanted, which by his nature was not particularly expensive. He did not have costly habits or hobbies.

He pulled out his phone. Oh, great, no service. He studied the little S0S up in the corner and willed it to connect but nothing changed. Sighing, he got out of the car. Capable in many areas of self-preservation and reliance, repairing car engines was not one of them--a gap in his education that he always regretted. He looked around. He didn't know if help was even possible in this nowhere at this hour and did not relish spending the night--or weekend!--in his car. Well, he thought, better start walking to see if he could get some help. If that was even possible, it would require a landline.

It wasn't very long before he found a longish driveway with a mailbox at the end. The drive was paved, but you couldn't see where it led. With nothing else in sight and no cars having driven by, he decided to walk down and find out. He was a little bit apprehensive about the no trespassing signs at the front of the property, but as a former country boy himself, he knew that was common. His parents had had them, too. Usually, there was nothing untoward about them. Usually.

It took about 15 minutes before he reached a farmhouse, which was not too large and not small either. It came with the requisite large barn and tractor showing through the open door. It was quiet, almost with a deserted look, but he suspected someone was home because he could see a light on inside and, especially, a large, modern SUV was parked in front. He headed for the door. Once he had climbed the farmhouse steps, he stopped at the door and pushed the doorbell.

When the door opened, Joanne saw a not-young man looking at her, but a man who was in fact a good deal shorter--and thinner--than herself. Well, most men are shorter than herself. Still, he was not unattractive. Not at all. Sure, he didn't have George Clooney's or Denzil Washington's "old man" good looks but he was reasonably fit, a bit extra around the middle but not a lot, and a relatively youthful face that was betrayed by the short gray hair on his head. The hairline had retreated but most of it was still there.

Jack was a bit taken aback when the door opened. The woman giving him the once over was incredibly tall! She was wearing just slippers but towered over him by a good eight inches! Her presence was formidable in other ways: her body was not stick thin, as some very tall women tend to be, it was voluptuous, even sexy. Large, commanding breasts protruded from her chest, her arms and legs revealed substance and strength--Jack had to avoid staring at her legs, which he found surprisingly appealing, mostly because of the black leggings. She was clearly carrying a little extra weight, but she had a very feminine shape. Secretly a lover of Amazonian women for decades, his cock involuntarily twitched when his near instantaneous appraisal had finished. She shushed her dogs, who obediently quieted.

The face staring at him was skeptical, noncommittal when the door had opened, dressed with her long silver hair--but it was beautiful, full-bodied and clearly well-maintained, even if it was unstyled.

"Yes?" was Joanne's only word on the greeting after they both had finished their simultaneous and near instant appraisal of one another.

"Um, yes, hello. My name is Jack. I am so sorry to disturb you on this Friday evening, but unfortunately my car broke down near the end of your drive, and I can't get any cell phone service. I was wondering if you could let me use your phone or call a tow-truck for me."

Joanne studied the man for a couple of seconds. "Well, I can but it won't do you any good. You're out in the middle of nowhere, frankly, and any of our local tow-trucks and mechanics in the area are closed for the weekend. We could get one from the city, but their driving out here at this time of day could end up costing you $1,000 dollars round trip. Are you sure you want to do that?"

"Umm, huh, well, what choice do I have, unless you are willing to take me to a local motel until places open up on Monday?"

Joanne was starting to like this man. He had an honest, easy-going and pleasant demeanor. She opened her door up further, indicating he was welcome to come in.

"Why don't you come in and we can talk about that," she replied, eyeing her gun drawer as he walked in. She felt comfortable but you can never be too careful sometimes. The weather was warm--he was wearing only shorts and a t-shirt, so he clearly wasn't carrying or hiding anything dangerous. She knew she could take him, if she had to--but you never know there either.

"Would you like some water or something? I have tap water and some cans of bubbly water. Or a coke?"

"Oh, a coke would be lovely. It's been a long drive."

She retrieved the coke from her fridge and set it on the table in front of him where she had invited him to sit.

"Thank you." He popped the cap with the opener she left. "Mexican coke! Nice!"

Joanne smiled at their shared preference.

"You're not from around here, are you?" she asked.

"Yes, Ma'am. I am not. I..."

JoAnne reacted a bit to that title and interrupted.

"Why did you call me that? We look like we are about the same age."

Jack feared he had offended.

"Well, it is out of deference and respect. This is your house and you are the Lady of the Manor, so to speak, so it's just respect. No offense intended--quite the opposite!"

"I'm not offended. I like that, thank you," she said. And then more to herself, "I haven't heard it in a long time." Louder, she introduced herself: "Joanne."

Jack wasn't sure what to make of that last, so he left it alone and resumed speaking.

"A pleasure to meet you, Joanne. No, I was driving thru on vacation. I am retired and I love getting out into the country often. I grew up in a rural area, but near Philadelphia. I've recently a couple years ago and I'm trying to figure out where I should go."

"Are you married?"

"I was, but alas she passed away a few years ago. I am not sure what I want to do or where I want to go, I just know I want to get away from Philly. I want to be in the country, and figure out what to do with my time. And I always liked New England."

Jack looked at Joanne, his eyes admiring her curves, and even though he tried to hide it, Joanne noticed him giving her the once over. She was surprised and flattered--delighted really. Nice to see that she could still have that kind of effect on a man. But, she reminded herself, she looked damn good for 62!

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that. Married couples are meant to grow old together. I am sorry you were robbed of that."

"Yes, well, it was hard, but I've managed. You?"

"Oh, never married. Never found the right man. And I am very particular about things." It wasn't completely accurate but close enough for him.

"Ah, I understand. Well, thank you for the coke. What do you think? Is there a cheap motel around her somewhere that I can stay at until Monday, preferably one next door to a garage?"

Joanne laughed at that--she was warming to this man. She decided to make an offer.

"I'll tell you what. You can stay in the spare room if you wish. If you're willing to do a few chores for the privilege, you can have room and board for the weekend. And I would enjoy the company. It's been some time since I've had some."

Jack was a little surprised at the offer. He wasn't sure at first if he should accept. He didn't know this woman, but he liked her. What the heck.

"Why, thank you, that would be lovely! Yes, happy to do chores--but I can do nothing with engines. Obviously."

JoAnne laughed again. Yeah, she liked him. I wonder if he would be willing to do things my way. I guess I will find out tomorrow when I give him instructions on the work.

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. Let me make some dinner."

Before she did so, however, she went back to her room to swap out the sweatshirt for a tight-fitting shirt. It didn't show cleavage but it made clear how bold and large her breasts were. Thank God for push-up bras. She returned to the kitchen to prepare dinner. She planned on steaks in a cast iron pan. As she went about her business, she asked Jack a question, who was now absently scratching goth of her dogs who took a strong, positive interest in this stranger. She liked that he liked dogs at least.

"I assume you know how to make a drink, right? Gin and tonics sound good to you on this warm evening? Everything you need is in the fridge or over there." She gestured toward her liquor cart. She took a moment to feed the dogs and cats.

"Yes! I know how to make a drink. Gin and tonics coming right up!" Now she is talking, Jack thought to himself.

When everything was ready and they settled down to eat, Joanne steered the amiable conversation they had been having in a slightly different direction.

"So, if you don't mind talking about it... what was your wife like?"

Jack was momentarily surprised by the question, but didn't mind. "No, I don't mind at all. She was a magnificent woman--smart, funny, kind, beautiful, tall, taller than me actually--"

"Oh, so you like tall women?" JoAnne interrupted.

Jack laughed at the flirt. "Why, yes, yes, I do!"

"Even very tall women?" JoAnne continued, flirting more, smiling as well.

"Yes, even very tall women! Problem is, though, is that most very tall women do not like short men. I was lucky--while my wife would have preferred me taller--she was 5'10"--she fell in love with me just the same."

"Interesting. Yes, I suppose it is true that tall women generally prefer tall men; they are not inclined towards men much shorter than themselves. But I do. I like short men. They are, well, shall we say, more... controllable." She smiled at Jack as she said this.

Jack twitched a bit at this statement. He had a strong submissive streak, one his wife had indulged a little bit. In fact, he had yearned since he was young to be bossed around by strong intelligent women, but aside from a little bit with his wife, it was mostly the stuff of his fantasies and occasional porn watching. Who was he kidding: he looked at a lot of female domination porn now that his wife was gone and had in fact seen a dominatrix--twice. He had loved the experiences but hadn't made a habit of them, at least not yet.

Realizing he had let the silence go on too long a time, he finally spoke. "Nothing wrong with that. Some men like being controlled.". He smiled back at her.

Joanne laughed yet again. She liked to laugh and laughed easily. Laughing at her clients' predicaments had been part of the job, after all. This might turn out to be an interesting weekend after all, she thought to herself. She decided to let the matter drop for now. And see how the day went tomorrow. If he was a whiny type or a lousy worker, she wasn't going to be interested.

But if he was of good cheer and worked hard, then seducing him seemed more appealing. It had been a very long time since she last had sex. And if she could seduce him into sexual slavery, then she would have struck gold. Because, truth be told, she missed parts of her former career. She didn't miss the jerks, the no-shows, the hassles of the city, always having to take care not to be discovered in her profession. But she did miss the experiences themselves. Sexually dominating willing men, indulging her sadistic streak, utterly controlling another human being so that they become little more than her plaything--that she did miss. A lot. And this guy was just her type!

After cleaning up the dinner dishes--which Jack volunteered to do--a good sign--and watching some tv with more innocent conversation, she showed Jack a spare room. Giving him some towels for a shower, both hostess and guest went to bed. Her mind wandered as she heard him bath, thinking a naked man is in her house right next door. Jack, meanwhile, found his cock swelling a bit when his mind recalled his hostess's dinner attire.

The next morning started fairly early. Jack had always been an early riser, and when he heard Joanne move downstairs he followed soon after. He was still in pajamas and fortunately so was she, but in her case it was more of a long floral robe. He was taken aback once again, as they went about breakfast, at how truly tall and imposing Joanne was.

In some ways she was the Amazon of his dreams--albeit the ones in his dreams were a whole lot younger. But Joanne was attractive enough and he himself no spring chicken. A 60-year old man isn't dating a 30-year old. But Joanne at 62 was in his range and she was clearly fit and keeping herself together. His cocked twitched at the sexy, gray-haired, very tall voluptuous woman in front of him. It didn't help that he had always had an Amazon fetish. Joanne was very much the Amazon.

Joanne also reappraised, favorably, Jack in the morning. He was smaller and weaker than her by far--the dynamic she most loved. She recalled again how much she enjoyed putting her height and strength in service of her domination of the male.

And the day's work went well. Joanne decided she wanted this man. He worked cheerfully, bantering with her throughout the day. He had some skills around almost anything and she was able to take advantage of the second pair of hands to make repairs that she had been putting off because they required two people. She decided she really wanted this man.

The question then turned to whether she would get him the way she wanted him. It had been such a long time since she sexually dominated someone--and she wanted a man. As a professional, she enjoyed dominating men and women, but she really preferred men, and their hard cocks. They were fun to play with, to hurt, and she loved when she finally took one inside her and it squirt--that feeling was like no other--so long as she was the one totally controlling it: the timing, the rhythm, and the result. She had no idea--yet--of what kind of equipment Jack had--and she was admittedly a big woman--but unless he was abnormally small, she could make it work.

They knocked off their work at 4:30 in the afternoon. They had done a lot for a couple of senior citizens. Jack was occasionally embarrassed that when a task seemed a little too heavy for him, Joanne would intervene and manage it with ease. But he was secure enough in his masculinity that he didn't mind. And, of course, her strength just turned him on. Plus, she had worn a pair of tight fitting black shorts and a black running bra for the days activities. Even though she carried a little extra weight, she looked damn good in it.