Future Sex: The end of BDSM; mostly

Written by yourMasterBaiter

Edited by the 'Erotic Confectioners.' Many thanks to Onyx03, Jasmine27, LaRascasse, and Luxx.

Tags: BDSM, Respect, Womens rights, MMF, MM, Group Sex

This story is a bit unusual. It's male dominant BDSM that advocates for women. Hard to explain, but women have rights and should be respected, especially if they are into being dominated and whacked around. Being a womens right advocate and a maledom sadist at the same time is... complicated. This story came out of those thoughts.

And while it is primarily good old fashioned male / female rough sex, it does mention male bisexuality. Get over it guys, suck some cock, and get fucked. It's good for you. But if you really can't get over a guy being with a guy, this story is not for you.

Oh, and as the title should suggest, the story is set many years in the future.

*****

She was obviously getting off on whatever he was doing to her, you could tell by her little gasps and moans, and tone of her voice when she yelled "FUCK!" and "Oh god!" and other words of joy.

I wouldn't have bothered checking in on them normally, semi-public sex is common after all and certainly allowed in my office building anywhere above the foyer. And I wasn't horny, having fucked a nameless coworker of mine in the shower after my lunch power walk just a few hours ago. It's easy to "get laid" these days. Women enjoy sex just as much as men do. Sometimes more, I think.

The changes that brought on the second American sexual revolution, strangely enough, started with a huge backlash against men disrespecting women. Back in the year 2017, a rash of men in powerful places were fired, castigated, and expelled from society for sexually harassing women. By the time it worked its way up to the rich and famous, men were running scared. If you catcalled a women on the street, you could expect to be spit on and roughed up. Rapists didn't always make it to jail, or survive in jail very long.

Men learned pretty quick to be respectful. And women loved it! They felt a little less afraid and more empowered. In control of their own destiny. And once men started leaving them alone, maybe they felt a little lonely. Or maybe they were always lonely, and horny, and were just scared to admit it.

Anyway, once men learned to control themselves, women started feeling more comfortable giving up control. The blockbuster film "THE CLUB" based on the real life secret BDSM sex club run on a strict platform of consent, inspired a revolution of women asking for what they wanted, with the understanding that they would be respected in return. People were fucking like never before. Combined with gays, lesbians, bisexuals and queers coming even more out of the closet, sex was everywhere.

So there was nothing unusual about a couple getting it on after work in the company lounge. No, the reason I was attracted was actually in what she wasn't saying: There was no "Yes!" or "Fuck me harder" or "Yeah, right there". Her cries were very passive. All reactions, no directions. That's rare. And a clear sign of my biggest turn on: A submissive women. Very hard to find these days.

Turning towards the lounge, I walked right in and up to their sofa. I would never be so disrespectful as to watch a women from hiding. I do suffer from social anxiety disorder, but it is a mild case and well treated via cognitive therapy. If it starts to become an issue, I just schedule a health care visit and go. A few sessions usually resolve whatever is bothering me, but sometimes it takes more. Anyway, we really don't have a peeping tom problem anymore. Or any significant mental health issues. Not since we got universal health care.

That was the other key event in our sexual revolution. Free treatment for mental health, STD's and unwanted pregnancies. No more untreated violent tendencies or paranoia or anxiety or anything like that. Men who used to rape either went to prison, were just killed by angry citizens, or got treatment. When it worked, they survived. Everyone was checked for STDs regularly, and treated at the first sign. In a matter of a few years, the rates of any infectious disease dropped to near zero.

Companies and groups jumped on the bandwagon, providing free condoms at most adult social activities and eventually, as sex became more public companies figured out how much it helped productivity, in the workspace. New materials made condoms more effective, and less difficult to wear. I still remember the first headlines for a church that had condoms at Sunday service. It was a Unitarian Universalist church; sometimes things happened after the kids went off to sunday school.

And speaking of religion, the right of a women to control her body, finally trumped the "right to life" movement. I mean, there are still a few around, but even they admit; a woman's body, anyone's body, is their property and they get to control it as they see fit. You can't force someone to donate an organ, or even blood; not even to save a life. So how could you force a woman to host a fetus she didn't want? Anyway, fetus transplants made it a pretty moot question.

Women had nothing to fear. Sex was no longer physically, psychologically, or socially dangerous. Getting fucked after work by some guy you sort of knew from around the office was common.

These two were fucking on one of the lounge couches. As I had hoped, she was being held down by the man, who was a big guy. He was sliding his cock all the way out and then forcing it back into her, with a little thrust at the end to really pound it home. His dick was as big as he was, with a very thick base so it had to be stretching her good, and it was quite long so it could easily have been painful for her as it hit her cervix at the end of each stroke. I thought I had seen him in the showers before. Hell, I might even have sucked him off; I am bisexual, like so many men today, and I really love cock. How could I not appreciate something that looked just like my own dick? I love my dick, and so it's just natural to like things that look the same.

But there really interesting point was this: Her hands over her head, pinned in one of his meaty fists along with enough of her long dark hair that her head was kept tilted up, exposing her neck. It was very kinky looking, very non-con, and weird to see in the office.

When she saw me approaching, she called out between thrusts, "I, asked, for, this"

"Of course," I replied "I only came over because this kind of scene really gets me off, may I watch?" A smile flickered over her sweat covered face as she blushed, and tried to nod. He nodded, clearly not caring and just wanting to get on with the action.

"And maybe jack off?" I pressed my luck.

She shrugged and warned "Don't, touch" before moaning as the man taking her hit his stride.

"Of course! Never unless asked." I nodded.

Undoing my zipper and pulling my shorts aside, I slid out my already very hard dick and started stroking it. The head was already covered in pre-cum and maybe a little post-cum from the shower fuck. I was amazed at how hard this sort of thing made me. A little embarrassed as well, I guess. Consensual Non-Consent is so rare these days and becoming out of style with the younger set. They see it as a holdover from the days of women being mistreated in our society.

The women being held down and fucked hard in front of me spoke up, her tone more businesslike.

"Hang on, love." The man on her stopped instantly, a questioning look on his face. "I love how you are holding me down, and god your cock is just pounding me so nice, but like I said, I really like it rough." she blushed again, "I know it's weird, but can you please hurt me more? Slap me around a little?"

It was obvious he wasn't really into that, and he looked around with a somewhat embarrassed expression.

"I'll do it" I volunteered, "and don't worry, no one is around they are all at the VP's birthday party." I waited for her to decide, and she looked at her partner, making note of the hopeful expression on his face, then nodded at me.

"Ok, but don't be weak about it? And my tits... don't ignore them?"

Throwing caution to the wind, I used my free hand to backhand her and said, "shut up cunt" using a word she probably hadn't heard in years. Totally socially unacceptable. The guy gasped, and started to get up. But she actually said "fuck, YES! Oh, god please fuck me!" He was a little freaked out, but I reassured him I wouldn't tell anyone. That didn't seem to make it much better for him, but he was still hard and in a willing women so he started pumping away.

I reached down and pushed her blouse out of the way, stretching the fabric as well as her permissions. She hadn't really said I could expose her, but I pretended her desire for breast pain gave me the right. Her moaned "Yes..." confirmed it. I found her nipple with my fingers and started squeezing it, turning to look into her eyes as I increased the pressure. It was easy to see impatience at first, then joy as I reached a level she needed. Her eyes rolled back and then closed, fluttering as I rolled her nipple between my fingers.

They say fortune favors the bold, so I decided to take it to the next level. I let go of her nipple, and as her eyes flew open, I raised my hand and slapped it down, smacking her tit hard.

"Fu. Uh. K!" she panted with each thrust of his cock. Fearing I had gone to far, I stopped and waited for her reaction.

"Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck... yesssss..." she panted. When her eyes refocused on me, I could see the excitement. She openly smiled, and nodded.

"Do that again!" she ordered. Smiling my little cruel smile, I slapped her face.

"I said shut up bitch!" I spat before I gave her other nipple the same treatment. She was whimpering and bucking under the guy fucking her like she was about to cum. He was looking away from us, at the wall and just using her pussy to get off, clearly not into our kink.

But she was into it. Very into it. I slid my hand up around her lovely throat, and a firm squeeze sent her right off. I found out a few minutes later that security, 2 floors down, heard her scream. She thrashed and bucked in the throes of that orgasm for long enough that they entered the lounge after she had recovered. She had to tell them she was ok and had invited us both.

Thank god.

I'm not sure her original partner even managed to cum. He left the instant security cleared him. I had apparently enjoyed a small cum just watching her; there was sperm on her shoulder and in her hair on one side. I didn't even touch my dick, it just went all by itself and I was so absorbed in watching her cum with my hand gripping her neck that a barely felt it. To this day, it was probably the finest moment of my life.

She was suddenly shy with me, another lost art, and it took her a moment to ask me if she could come back to my place. Of course I agreed and we held hands on the way out after getting dressed. We decided to walk rather than take the loop so we would have time to talk.

She admitted to enjoying being taken, used, and humiliated; to specifically enjoying some pain and being bound. She related all that in a business like voice; a little cold and robotic.

"I just don't like asking, I guess" she said, blushing at the admission "It's better for me if a lover knows what they want and takes it."

"And your pleasure?" I asked.

"Well, it is my pleasure to please. And it just seems to me that the things women need to cum should be obvious by now. I mean it isn't difficult to figure out, is it?"

I laughed, "Yes, in general we see enough sex to know how things work. But there are little differences, and what feels good one moment might not the next."

"Yes, of course." She said, "But can't you just look at your lovers face and know?" She pined with an exasperated expression.

"I suppose so... especially if you stay with one person long enough to get to know them." I smiled.

We were both giggling and excited running up the steps into my place. It was a recreation of an old type of house called a "brownstone" which were actually made out of bricks. Mine was recycled plastic, of course, but it still had the stairs in front from the park up to a real front door in keeping with the early style. Obviously, it folded out of the way automatically when it sensed my approach.

The lights were already on, but the house dimmed them automatically when it saw my frown; guessing that I wanted to set a more romantic scene for my guest. I introduced her and she registered that she was here willingly and then surprised me by explicitly ordering the house not to check on her well being no matter what it perceived from her tone of voice, expression or other biometrics.

"I was with a... partner... some time ago and the house got the wrong idea." She blushed again. "It was very embarrassing and led to a mandatory psychological review."

We were already removing our clothes, assuming sex was the reason for the visit. The house had turned on a gentle fan blowing in warmer air from the garden sunroom. The subtle smell of tomato blooms and salad herbs tinted the air.

Suddenly she stopped having only removed her shoes.

"Um... could you... would you be willing to, ah..." She hesitated, sucking on her lower lip in yet another throwback to the days when women didn't know exactly what they wanted at all times.

"Yes?" I asked, also pausing in my undressing although I had already removed my pants.

"Would you rip my clothes off?" She blurted out. "I can pay for your synth to make replacements for me, or drone a new outfit over before I leave." Hanging her head she whispered. "I've always wanted someone to... "

I was even a little shocked at that. Was she saying she had rape fantasies? Truly freaky! And a massive turn on for me, but dare I admit it? Suddenly I didn't care. My body responded without my mind even being involved.

I grabbed her by the hair and one hand, twisting her arm around behind her back as I held her head and propelled her toward the couch. The squeak that came out of her mouth was priceless. When I knew she would land on the couch, I pressed her head down and basically threw her face first onto the cushions. She started to roll over, but I grabbed her skirt and pulled her ass back up in the air, then pulled her skirt roughly down. Her panties came part way down; one side below the hip, the other still holding in place. When she tried to roll the other way, I decided to be a bit more commanding.

"Stop moving cunt!" I yelled. "Keep your ass in the air!"

She froze and lay there panting, twisting her head around to watch me with wide eyes as I grabbed a pair of large scissors out of the desk behind me. When she saw me hold them up, she shuddered and a smile flickered over her face.

"Don't fucking move, bitch, or you could get cut." I muttered as I slipped the cold metal long her skin, under the strap of her panties and then cut it. She whimpered and shuddard again, then as I pulled the panties to the other side, part way down her leg, she rolled her ass down, exposing her pussy.

"You are fucking drenched, slut!" I said with a smile, seeing her lips open and her wetness drip down into her skirt which was around her knees, holding her legs from spreading any further.

All she did was moan and start to shake.

"What a nasty little slut." I laughed. "What am I going to do with you?" Looking at the closed scissors in my hand, and seeing her pussy clench, I decided to take it even one level higher.

"You need to be punished, there is no doubt of that." I said and smacked her ass with the flat edge of the closed scissors, leaving a little slightly red imprint on her lovely cheek.

"FUCK!" She yelled and her head snapped up. I was worried I might have gone to far for a split instant until she yelled "Oh fuck yes! Spank my ass!" and looked back at me with a twinkle in her eye.

Smack went the scissors, and again and again. When I turned to alternate and cover her other cheek, the first blow caught a bit of the tip more than the rest, and it really turned red quickly, starting to blister. She didn't seem to mind at all, her head jerking up and her body shaking in the throes of pleasure pain.

I was half mad with excitement and power. I wanted her and could not wait a moment longer. Grabbing her blouse, I pulled her back around toward me, happily surprised when the light material ripped, exposing her breasts. Momentarily distracted, I grabbed her arm again, twisting it out of the way and struck her tit with the scissors.

She screamed, her eyes flying open and her mouth wide. The strike had landed exactly across her nipple and the pain must have been more than she could possibly want. I realized I'd gone to far, but I simply could not stop.

Turning her the rest of the way around by her hair, I pulled my boxers down and shoved my cock in her mouth just as her scream died. I will never in my life forget the look on her face as she accepted me deep in her throat, eyes wide open and looking up at me.

Submission. Total and complete submission and desire.

She swallowed twice then started to gag, and I came. Just staring deep into her lovely eyes as they started to water. She twisted and gagged and if I had been sane I would have worried about her throwing up, but I was just too far gone. Somehow she managed to take it all, and as my grip relaxed, she quietly and obediently licked my wilting cock clean.

I fell onto the couch, and she remained on her knees, simply resting her head against my knee, with her arms around my legs.

"Please." I heard her whisper. Looking down, those lovely eyes looked up at me, afraid and excited and stunned and proud.

"Please don't let me run."

My heart exploded. I can't even describe the feeling. Just knowing that this lovely women, attractive, wanted by others, had just suffered at my hands and simply wanted to be kept by me, to undoubtedly be used like that again...

I tangled my fingers in her hair and held her head against my leg, reassuring her that I would not let her go.

We are married now. We are old and considered very backwards. Neither of us want to fuck anyone else, and we don't except in rare cases when old friends come to town or one of us has to travel for work. Even then, we try to share the experience with each other by paying for a little video bandwidth or via one of the public sex channels if it's off prime time. I have some bisexual tendencies and need a little dick in me once in awhile and if she gets turned on, we sometimes share that. She occasionally likes to be watched while I do her at the last remaining BDSM club in town.

And we aren't totally weird: We participate in holiday company orgies and neighborhood swaps from time to time. It's good to be friendly.

But at home, our dark secret is that she is my sex slave. Yeah. It's filthy and totally socially unacceptable.

She is perfect. I love and respect her more than words can say.

*****

This story (hopefully) describes the end of the movement started by the organization described in "The Club: How I met the love of my life in a sex club". THE CLUB was started by the couple in the story:

https://www.literotica.com/s/the-key-7

And the network of Clubbers was built by people like Able in:

https://www.literotica.com/s/mind-control-respect-and-pheromones

But all good things end, and I think the nation's current obsession with BDSM (as revealed by the popularity of the "50 Shades" junk) will eventually fade as women are raised from birth in an empowered environment. I honestly hope for that, while at the same time knowing that I would miss it terribly.

I hope we get some thoughtful and well formed comments in response to the story. Will there always be MaleDom BDSM? Will women actually become fully respected members of our society? Can you be "separate but equal"? Should women be treated differently? Are women treated more than differently, e.g. disrespected on top of different treatment? (Hint: The answer to that last one is YES. If you don't believe it, create a female profile.)