Roxanne's Reading

Samir couldn't believe his luck in meeting Roxi. He was a BDSM writer, and he specialized in writing about female domination, chastity, and hardcore punishment...and one night, he was invited to lecture on this topic at Buttermilk State.

Roxi had reddish hair and looked like an insolent barmaid, but she was the graduate assistant to the professor who had asked Samir to talk about his writing.

"I'm a huge fan of your writing. I've been reading your stuff on Bondagewars, the online lit thing for quite some time."

Samir had grinned at Roxy. "Really? You're aroused by the idea of dominating a man, or is it more of an intellectual thing, like reading the writing of Leopold Sacher-Masoch?"

Roxi laughed. "I have dated a lot of freak shows. They are either doormats or dicks, and often I want to be in control, just because men are so predictable. They really need a lot of direction."

"There's that, I guess." Samir had said. "Well, I'm very flattered..." he said this as he kind of backed away, because the class was over, and he had a real job in the morning, indexing bank law books.

"Oh, no, you're not getting away that easily." Roxi smiled and took him by the arm. Her breasts shifted in her little sundress and she tossed her curly hair and giggled a bit.

Roxi looked at Samir, and noticed how his eyes scoped out her boobs, and admired her creamy skin and her big lips...like so many men, even good writers, he probably had never really been in a femdom relationship.

She wondered fervidly whether he would consider taking up with her and "teaching" her how to be a dominant. Roxi had more experience than she was willing to share with Samir at this point.

Then, Roxi had also been, at nineteen, still a high school junior (on the Bong-Hit five or six year plan), she'd also made her spending money in a curious way...

Roxi served as a baby-sitter for her neighbor's kids...and when the kids went to bed, often their dad would ask her to watch a show or two with him before he drove her home.

"We have to be very quiet, Roxanne, because my wife would misunderstand if she wakes up, and she has rage issues."

Somehow, Roxi got the poor bastard to put on a blindfold, and she nuked some leftover meatballs in the microwave and shoved a couple up her ass and a few more up her cunt, and then fed them to Mr. Straubman...

She didn't tell him which was which of course.

Sometimes Roxi would tie Mr. Straubman's hands behind his back and play with his penis until he was bursting with desire, and then she'd be "overcome" with a compulsion to run upstairs and confess all to Mrs. S...

And Mr. Straubman would have to bargain her down with various raises in her babysitting fees...

"It's just so wrong, Mr. Straubman" Roxi would say as her red nails danced on his purple, pulsating cock. "I really should tell Gladys, don't you think? She'd understand."

"She'd take half my net worth, Roxanne, dear...please, untie me and we can talk about this."

"Oh, I don't know if I could, sir. If I untied you, you might ravish me." As Roxi said this, she pulled off the blindfold and flashed her perfect 36 DD breasts at Mr. Straubman. "Imagine you, a senior warden at St. Michaelmas, and you just want to take my virtue..."

Mr. Straubman was so impressed by Roxi's creativity and "inventiveness" coupled with a competing desire to get her out of town that he wrote her a recommendation to his alma mater, Columbia University, the best school in New York City...and finagled her a scholarship!

At Columbia, Roxi had been briefly involved with Glynn, a dweeby but fairly well heeled guy who bought her stuff and wrote her papers.

Glynn had this strange fantasy of kneeling naked on his coffee table (rich dweebs always have their own apartments in college, it seemed) well, naked except for wearing a pair of pink socks.

Then he'd ask Roxi to pull his pud from behind and do it slowly and then quickly, and making him beg her to let him finish.

Sometimes Roxi would tell Glynn that she'd undress for him (she was always clothed) if he wanted to bribe her, maybe pay $20 for every piece of clothing she took off.

Roxi always came to these sessions really heavily clothed. The jacket went ($20) and then the sweater ($20) and then she would jack it up to fifty to remove her bra...

And sometimes he'd pay her, and she'd just stop with the bra and panties anyway and stroke his dick for quite some time, laughing at how his legs quivered as he knelt, ridiculously on the coffee table.

Sometimes he'd pay a little extra, and Roxi would invite a stripper friend of hers, Estrellita, to strip closely while he was watching, and getting jacked from behind...and then the two girls would take turns peeing on poor Glynn...

Roxi could barely read or write, but Glynn hired girls to take her tests, and he wrote her term papers himself, so she finished school with flying colors. Estrellita left being an exotic dancer to marry Glynn, and Roxi wished them well as she went to Buttermilk State University for her Master's.

Although Roxi had scammed her way through college, she didn't test well, so the only Master's program she'd been accepted in was a Women's Studies degree with a concentration on Feminist Perspectives on Male Sexuality.

Roxi felt she was comfortable in this area.

One of the other graduate assistants, Sonia, offered Roxi a room in her house. "I don't think you even have to pay much rent, my husband likes being around cute girls...we have a peculiar relationship though."

Sonia's relationship with Gigger was odd, indeed. Gigger had inherited his grandparent's mansion, and he lived on the lowest floor, and there were about twelve bedrooms in other parts of the house.

Sonia had a lot of cute female friends, and they lived in the bedrooms free of charge, and when they didn't feel like weirdness, they could socialize in a main rec room on the upper floors...

But then, when they were feeling generous, the ladies would descend to Gigger's level. Gigger stayed on that lower level, and wandered around naked. When the girls came downstairs, they often wore diaphanous evening gowns or shorts and halter-tops, or whatever made them feel pretty.

And they could sit and talk, or shoot pool, or watch a wide screen TV, and when they wanted refreshment, liquid or solid, they'd blow a whistle and Gigger would come running, his balls bouncing and cock bobbing.

Gigger made the girls as comfortable as they could be-he had lots of prepared refreshments, and he also was a retired pastry chef, amid the girls' good-natured complaints that he'd get them fat with his amazing pies and truffles.

And Sonia beseeched the women, to use various whips and canes on Gigger if they were feeling tense or annoyed. Most of the gals didn't really feel comfortable doing this, but one or two were particularly combative, and left marks all over the poor perv.

"You'll never see me naked again, Gigs" Sonia said to Gigger once, as he wept after she'd caned him. "None of us, but you'll always be naked, and we'll make fun of your sad little weenie."

Gigger was known as a "remittance man". He was sent money by his rich family to stay in Buttermilk Falls and not return to the compound in St. Louis, and so he had nothing to do but wander around naked in his big house and wait on the hot girls that his wife brought home...

And Roxi wondered if Samir, the BDSM writer she'd met for the class, was much like that? She'd looked at some of his stories and found them oddly compelling.

For Samir's part, he was quite enthused about having dinner with the hot little grad student who ostensibly was interested in female domination and liked his erotica...

Roxi was something else! The long red hair, the big boobs, and she had this sultry look about her-it seemed almost too good to be true that she was fascinated by the curious lifestyle he wrote about.

Most of the women that Samir met who said they were interested in BDSM were really into it for the clothes. And, of course leather fashion was awesome. But to find a cute girl who really liked this? Could she like Samir as well?

Samir didn't have much luck with women in general. He'd sold weed in college to get in women's pants, but his appeal as a kink writer didn't seem to pull in a great deal of romantic activity.

Perhaps he should have learned bass guitar.

But the first time he took Roxi to dinner, she immediately asked him about his characters and the stories he'd written about.

"I just loved it that a guy would be so into his girlfriend that he'd serve and take care of her, and let her punish him when he needed it." Roxi said, toying with her salad fork.

God, look at her, Samir thought. Other men in the restaurant were looking over, probably wondering why she was hanging out with the geeky Arab dude...

"I mean, most men are such take-charge assholes." Roxi continued. "I know they probably do it to mask their insecurity, but they put women down and I loved it that your main character in "Mistress Ionna"-what was his name? Couperin?"

"Yes" Samir said, his throat dry.

"Yeah, Couperin was so devoted to Ionna that he looked after all her needs and that he told her that if she didn't' t like his behavior she could whip him."

Roxi gave Samir a lingering look and chewed her Arugula.

Samir breathed deeply, and his cock was bulging in his corduroy pants. He imagined Roxi stripping him down and whipping him.

She looked so enticing in her miniskirt and striped sleeveless top.

"And Ionna even locked Couperin in that whaddyacallit."

"The chastity belt?"

"Yes, that thing. He couldn't even choke his chicken. That was hilarious. And Couperin mostly served all her sexual needs and didn't think about his own wants at all...except that he was horrifically horny. That was a real turn-on for me."

Samir breathed through his nose. "Well" he said carefully "Not a lot of women actually like that kind of thing. They're much more turned on by men who are in control, you know?"

"Yeah" Roxi said breezily. "But in your story, Ionna had those guys, too, the studs, and she could get her pipes cleaned by them, get fucked hard, and then poor Couperin would just stay home and you know, lick their mess out with his tongue."

She laughed, and her tits jiggled.

"I remember one thing where Couperin begged her to let him lick her juices off her lover's dick."

Samir wondered if this wasn't some elaborate prank. Were his friends in the scene putting him on? Had they hired this gorgeous creature from a strip club or something to fuck with his head?

But no, he knew that Roxi was a genuine T.A., and she'd been a teaching assistant for quite a bit of time (probably couldn't find a chump to write her thesis yet) and whatever her motives, she knew none of his kinky pals.

"I've been to the Paincafe joint before." Roxi said, smiling. "I saw some freaky folks there, but I didn't want to you know, play with them, the kinksters that hang out there...because I didn't know them. You're a nice guy though."

She twitched her adorable little nose, like Samantha in the old "Bewitched" show.

"And you've written what is it, fifteen of these books? And people buy them so it must be really, really popular around the country, right?" Roxi said, smiling artfully.

"Around the world." Samir said, spellbound himself now.

"And you write the stuff, and people buy it. Wow." She paused. "Whips and chains."

Roxi carefully stretched, and her boobs shifted in her top.

"Well, I've made some money from it. Roxi, and it helped me pay off my condo, but it's not a real living. I have to work doing other stuff."

"Yup. And you write male-dom fem-sub stuff too...better not try that with me though. If I were your dominant girlfriend, I'd beat the shit out of you just for thinking about it."

Roxi winked at Samir, to show she was just kidding...sort of.

"I thought the 'Dungeon Compulsive' story was wild too, about the guy in the chastity belt-you write a lot of those, don't you?-the chastity boy who only got to jack off in front of his wife once a month, usually while watching her screw someone else, was really intense, too."

She snickered. "Would you do that for Mistress Roxanne?"

Samir coughed.

God, Roxi had a hypnotic voice.

"Yeah, and the "Mister Lumsden's Consequence" novel of yours...I'm a lot like the chick there, who would get pissed off about stuff going on at work and take it out on her elderly neighbor, Mister Lumsden."

She laughed. "Then there was the story you did about Davine and Noah? And how she'd cheat on him, but then she got rejected by a young stud at the bar so she comes home and whips her husband extra hard because she's mad that she's over the hill?"

Samir had enjoyed writing that, too.

"Think of a guy who is so submissive that not only does he let his wife cheat on him-it's called "Noah the Cuckold" but he also gets punished because she can't score when she's out cheating on him? I think in the end she tells him that he won't get to cum till he finds her a hot boyfriend, that was hilarious!"

Roxi slugged down more wine. "Yup. And then your other book 'International Vulture-Girl" where the woman whips the Prime Minister with the three fingered tawse? I had to look that up on Google Images to see what one looked like. The next man I date, I'll make him buy one, and I'll whip him with it."

"I have one...it's never been used." Samir said hoarsely.

"You'll have to let me borrow it sometime." Roxi said cryptically.

Samir wondered if he could get away with jerking off under the table.

Roxi laughed and sipped her Chardonnay. "I love giving guys really, long, frustrating hand jobs, like in your "Felicia Fingers" and it makes me laugh when they get mad if I stop before a happy ending, or I don't let them fuck me then. I can't believe there are such dorks who seek that out like in your novel."

"Yes...it's true." Samir said glassily. He thought if he could just go home right now and jack off and just THINK about her whipping and teasing him...oh, Roxi. There was no chance he would actually get to-could he?

Roxi laughed again. "Then you had the story about the girl with the sharp manicure who scratched up her chaste husband's cock and balls and he ended up buying separate Christmas presents for each fingernail...that was really something."

She snapped her fingers, and the waiter, who had been staring at her avidly, ran up and re-filled her wine glass.

"You gotta get with it, chump, if you want a tip." Roxi said this and frowned at the poor server, who trembled, but Samir saw the guy had a hard-on in his uniform pants.

She beamed at Samir. "I did have a guy in my life who I used to tie down for fun-" Here Roxi smiled and pushed her tongue between her teeth-

"And I'd rub his dick really, really fast and then I'd pull it away and sometimes he would burst into tears. It was sort of sad."

She paused and incredibly, Samir felt her foot pawing his crotch from under the table.

"I mean, the guy's dick was kind of small, and what else was it good for?"

She chortled and Samir felt the her toes clawing his penis through the material of his trousers.

"The guy-Hank was his name, Hank wanted to kiss and touch my tits and I would tell him he had to earn it by not bitching and getting mad when I'd cut him off at the last minute...'Be Good for next time' I told him."

At the end of their dinner-date, Samir asked Roxi if she'd like to see his place, and she happily assented. "Got that tawse?"

As they were leaving, Samir thought of her testing his tawse and his grandma's old razor strop...

And Roxi, giggling, her arm in his was also contemplating-"Let the games begin."