Femdom: Allotment Rose

Martin encounters a domineering woman and her humbled husband at the allotments.

This short female domination story contains scenes humiliation and non-consensual gay sex. It is entirely fictional and completely my own work.

Please DO NOT read any further if you do not enjoy fictional stories in which males submit to dominant females, either willingly, forcibly, or by coercion.

Please DO NOT read if you think that stories like this should end up with the male taking control and beating or fucking the female - If that's your bag, none of my stories are for you.

Please DO NOT read if you don't like stories in which men are forced to perform humiliating sexual acts by women.

Please DO read further if you want to learn how the protagonist is excited by his first encounter with a domineering woman, and the unforgettable journey she takes him on.

If you like this story, please vote and comment - it helps to marginalise the votes and comments from Trolls, of which, sadly, there are many!

I hope you enjoy!

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ALLOTMENT ROSE

My mother retired at the age of 65 and decided that she would take an allotment to keep her healthy and occupied. At first, she grew all manner of fruit and vegetables in a jumble of square patches on the ground, demarked by wavy rows of chalk stones pulled from the soil, but soon she was complaining that low-level planting and weeding was straining her back, and asked me to help her build some raised beds. I'm a very practical person, so planning and building the beds would not be a problem. I drew the designs, ordered the wood, and had it delivered directly onto my mother's allotment.

On the bright and sunny morning when I began to construct the beds, my mother got talking to Rose, who worked the plot next door. She was a solid looking lady in her mid-fifties with straight, blonde and grey hair in a bob, and squarish-round Deirdre Barlow glasses. She had a common accent and I did not find her attractive.

Rose looked at me as I laid planks of wood on the dirt in the approximate locations of the new beds.

"Who's your lackey?" she asked my mother.

"This is my son, Martin," my mother replied, proudly, "He's so good at helping me with this sort of thing."

I waved.

Rose gestured towards a man in the background.

"This is Arthur, he's MY lackey," she said, "he doesn't say much, do you dear?"

Arthur looked up from the dirt. "No dear," he said.

As the day progressed, I couldn't help but listen to Rose and Arthur's conversations. She spoke to him with a kind of gentle condescension and was generally quite bossy. For some reason, I found this quite erotic. Further still, I could tell that she was inventing work for him, asking him to move the hose pipe to one end of the plot, then telling him to move it back again. He did everything he was told to do, but somehow she was never satisfied. "You're such a waste of space!" she would exclaim from time to time.

At around lunch time I told my talkative mother that she might as well go home. Her crops had been uprooted and moved out of the way, and it would be quicker for me to build the beds and level the sloping soil without her. She gave me a hug, handed me the key to the gate, and I locked-up after she'd driven out. Without her chatting to me, I could concentrate better on Rose and Arthur's conversation, and watch how Rose coolly and arbitrarily bossed him around.

As the afternoon progressed, Rose had Arthur weed beds, then weed them again. He filled watering cans at the tap and heaved them to her side (despite the fact that they had a hose), and he dismantled the runner bean frame, only to be told to rebuild it again. I found their relationship compelling and immensely exciting, and was completely but happily distracted by their strange game. Most exciting of all, at one point, Rose stood inches from Arthur as he carefully planted a seedling in the fertile soil. Any onlooker would have just supposed that they were husband and wife, chatting about the planting, but she placed the toe of her boot on the little plant and ground it into the soil. She glanced at me as she did this and caught me watching them, and I swear I saw a smirk flicker across her face. Later on, Rose stood at the edge of her plot, close to ours, and ordered Arthur to move six heavy paving slabs to one corner of her allotment. When he had finished, groaned, straightened his back, and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, Rose looked at me with a devilish grin, and called out to him, "I've changed my mind. I want them in that other corner after all." Arthur looked at the two of us for a moment, put his gloves back on, and hauled the slabs back again.

"I want a little storage box building on those slabs," Rose explained to me, "Arthur will be useless at it. Do you think you could help him?"

I looked at the weed-covered, lumpy corner of her plot.

"No problem!" I said, "we'll have to level the ground first or it'll be all wonky. I can help with that."

Rose gave me a wry smile as though there was something naughty on her mind.

"What a lovely man you are," she said.

I took my spade and fork to the overgrown corner of Rose's plot and helped Arthur to clear the weeds. We chatted as we worked and I found that we got on really well, with common interests in classic cars, gardening, and a hatred of supermarkets. Rose tended to her beds and occasionally enquired as to whether or not we were working hard enough. "You lackeys seem to be chatting a lot," she might say, "I hope you're working hard?"

"Yes Rose," Arthur might respond. He often glanced at me with a hangdog look on his face, embarrassed that I was witnessing the way she bossed him around. I, on the other hand, found it quite exciting to be spoken to in such a supercilious way by a woman who should have had no right to do so.

It took Arthur and me several hours to clear the weeds, level the ground and lay the six slabs. Fortunately, the ground below was firm so we decided that we would not need a frame to support them. By the time we'd finished we were hot and sweating under the clear blue sky.

Rose inspected our work.

"Well," she said, with a critical tone, "that looks very good. Move it that way a little and it'll be perfect."

She gestured to the right with her hand. Arthur and I got to our knees and slid the heavy slabs along by a couple of inches. Then, when we were done and Rose was finally satisfied, she told Arthur to go to their car to get the kit for the storage box.

"Take a knife and split the package in the car," she instructed, "I want you to bring each piece individually."

"Yes Rose," Arthur said, attempting but failing to not sound annoyed. He trudged off between the higgledy-piggledy plots towards the grassy patch where our cars were parked a hundred meters away.

Rose turned to me.

"Would you mind awfully digging this patch over for me?" she said, gesturing to a bare square of soil close to the newly lain slabs. I looked over at my mother's plot, at the half-levelled ground in the rectangles where the new beds were to be, and the planks that lay abandoned on the earth.

"Yes Rose," I said.

For the next hour I dug Rose's bed while Arthur ferried back and forth with planks of wood. On his returns, Rose would often have a harsh remark for him. "Hurry up or we'll lose the light!", or "You're such a waste if space Arthur. I don't know why I bother with you!" The way she spoke to him continued to arouse me.

After I'd dug around a third of the bed over, Rose addressed me. "Martin, cut it smaller," she said.

I paused to look at the clods of earth I'd turned over, then went back to the start and cut each lump of earth several more times with the spade.

"Such a good lackey!" Rose said. I smiled, continued to dig, and became aware that my cock had stiffened in my pants.

Eventually Arthur had fetched all the components of the box from their car. I stopped my digging and began to help Arthur to build the store which simply consisted of four corner posts, planked walls, and a planked, framed lid. Rose took the instruction pamphlet and stood beside us, telling us which pieces to fit in which order. Arthur reached for his electric drill driver, but Rose quickly intervened. "I want it done by hand," she said, for no apparent reason. We worked slowly, driving each screw into the wood by hand, but the more my fingers ached, the more I became aroused.

As the build continued, Rose carried on telling us what to do and how to do it. "This piece next," she instructed, placing her foot on a plank. I was closer to it than Arthur so I grabbed it, but Rose did not move her foot. Arthur and I glanced sheepishly at each other. There was a short, awkward pause, then I asked, "Please will you move your foot, Rose?" I did not look up to see her smiling down at me, just watched her boot slide slowly from the plank.

By the time we had finished building the storage box we were losing the light. The other allotment holders had all left, and the three of us were alone amongst the vegetable patches and blackberry bushes. Rose inspected the wooden box, stalking around it to examine every joint and screw. She raised and lowered the lid several times, checking that the hinges were free.

"Very good!" she said, eventually. "You've worked so hard today." Then she turned to me and said, "Don't you think you deserve a reward?"

"No, no..." I began to politely decline, without any thought of what the reward might be.

"Arthur, don't you think that Martin deserves a reward?"

Arthur looked completely wretched. His face reddened and he looked at this feet and answered, "Yes Rose."

"Yes," Rose affirmed, "How about a blowjob?"

Despite the fact that there had been a palpable salacious undertone to the entire day, the suggestion of a sexual reward still took me completely by surprise.

"No!" I falsely protested, "That's... I couldn't..."

"Nonsense!" Rose interrupted, "It's the least you deserve... and you can't pretend you're not horny."

She looked around the allotments, glancing at the deserted plots and the red rooftops of the houses that lay beyond the tall trees that bordered one side of the facility. She studied the fences and fields that made up the other three sides. There was not another soul in sight, so she nonchalantly stepped towards me and began to unbuckle my belt. I was embarrassed and quite nervous, but did not protest. I glanced at Arthur and tried to convey some sort of apologetic 'I'm only doing as I'm told' message with my face, but he looked utterly downtrodden, and diverted his eyes to watch his wife unbuckle my belt, pull down my zip, and tug my jeans down over my hips. They slipped down to my ankles and Arthur and I stood side-by-side like naughty school boys.

All three of us made one more scan of the allotments, then Rose grabbed my boxers at my hips and pulled them down to my knees. My rigid cock sprung forward and jutted towards her in the cool evening air.

"Very nice!" Rose purred, "I was worried that you might be a 'little' lackey."

Arthur and I gave each other a reflexive glance, and Arthur looked embarrassed beyond words.

Rose admired my erection for a moment, then said, "Arthur. On your knees."

"Whoa!" I protested, "I don't want HIM to do it! I'm not gay!"

"Neither is he," Rose scoffed, "but you don't think I'm going to get on my knees in the dirt and do it myself do you?"

Arthur did not look at me. He just got onto his knees and positioned himself before my cock. Rose took me by the shaft and gently tugged me towards his face.

"Please Rose," he pleaded, quietly, "Please don't make me do this."

"Do you want me to slap you in front of our friend?" Rose asked, venomously.

"No Rose."

"Then open your mouth and be a good boy."

Arthur did as he was told, dropped his jaw and tilted his head back slightly, then Rose placed a hand on the back of his head and brought us together. My bell-end slipped into his hot mouth and he closed his lips around it. Finally, Rose released her grip on us and stood back to watch. "Look into each other's eyes," she demanded.

Arthur's look was a sorry mix of humiliation, disgust and helplessness. He looked so pathetic as he sucked my erection into his mouth, but he did exactly what Rose wanted, and pleased me as best he could. From time to time he would graze me with his teeth and I would wince. "Sorry about that," Rose sniggered, "this is his first time." The look on Arthur's face told me that that was true.

Despite the humiliation of being exposed on the allotments and being sucked off by another man, the thrill of being subjugated by Rose was inexpressibly arousing and it was not long before I was close to cumming. I began to breath heavily.

"Take your t-shirt off and play with your nipples," Rose ordered.

I quickly whipped my shirt off over my head and pinched my hard nipples with my earthy fingers. It was acutely embarrassing to be naked from my boxers (which still clung around my knees) upwards, but I was thrilled to be doing what this bossy woman had demanded. There was something unfathomably arousing about willingly allowing this unattractive, rude and domineering woman to humiliate and control me. I knew that I would never forget getting an erection as she told me to pointlessly chop soil for her.

I reached my point of no return. "I'm going to cum!" I breathed.

"In his throat!" Rose demanded.

My eyes and Arthur's were still locked. I did not dare look away as my feet attempted to get onto their tiptoes, my knees spread as far as my boxers would allow, and my body stiffened. I grabbed Arthur's head in an attempt to keep my balance, held my breath as I tried to savour the pre-climax hiatus for as long as possible, then exploded into his mouth. "Ah-ah-ah" I panted as my first ejaculations gushed into his throat. Arthur gagged and Rose cooed. "Dirty gay slut!", she threw at him. My happy cock throbbed as it continued to squirt my slimy jism into his poor mouth. I thrust and shuddered, fucking his face in a depraved and selfish attempt to milk the last strings of spunk from my balls. My orgasm was long and extreme, fortified and sustained by the knowledge that Arthur's bossy wife had forced us into this pit of depravity, and that she was now enjoying watching the fruits of her labour. Finally, I closed my eyes and released his stare.

There was silence for a moment while I came down from my tiptoes and straightened myself up. I continued to hold Arthur's head in my hands with my cock softening in his hot, spunky mouth.

Finally, Rose broke the spell.

"Thank Martin for his help today," she said to Arthur.

I let go of Arthur's head and let my soft cock slip from his mouth. We remained connected by some dangling strands of spunk and saliva.

"Yes Rose. Thank you, Martin," Arthur said.

I could not say anything. I kept my eyes closed, leant forward, and supported myself with my hands on my knees.

Arthur remained on his knees until Rose had stopped giggling, then she finally allowed him to stand.

Eventually we gathered our tools together as best we could in the low light, and took them to our respective sheds. Then we locked up and made our way to the car park. As we reached our cars Rose said, "I have plenty of jobs that need doing around our house, and plenty more ways to reward you, if you're interested."

"Yes Rose," I replied, "I'd like to help you some more."

"I'm afraid I can be a little bit domineering at times, but you're ok with that aren't you."

Her question was entirely rhetorical - it was clear that she knew exactly how much her bossiness had turned me on during the day.

"Yes Rose," I said, "I'd be happy to do as I'm told."

Rose smiled broadly and stepped close to me.

"We have a summer house that needs building," she said, "Come around and do that for me, and I'll suck you off myself."