The Night My Girlfriend Really Tried To Fuck Me

In most Femdom stories the male shrinks into woeful pathetic submission once his cock is locked up by the dominant woman. Here is, I believe, a somewhat more likely scenario.

CHAPTER 1

I sat impatiently for what seemed to be forever. “Celeste,” I called out from the living room, “what’s taking you so long?” I was frustrated by the delay.

“Wow, Pierre…sometimes you can be such a child. I told you before,” she called back, “I’m setting up something special—something you’ll never forget. Just be patient, OK?”

Oh, sure…just be patient—easy for her to say. I’ve got a raging hard-on—so hard it actually hurts– over having some incredible sex with my girlfriend and she tells me to be patient. Celeste and I have been a twosome for more than three years and the sex just keeps getting better and better. Initially I was drawn to her body. I think she looks just like the porn star of the same name, but lately I’ve been thinking she might be the one—you know…the one I bring home to meet my mother. I’ve already met her folks several times. They’re OK if you like a wimpy weakling of a man and a domineering, controlling woman–which I don’t–but so far Celeste hadn’t shown any of her mother’s domineering traits.

“OK, darling I’m ready; c’mon in.” It took all my will power to walk into the bedroom; I felt like running as fast as my legs could carry me. I looked around confused; I couldn’t see what had taken so long. It was Saturday night—the night we always had sex, sometimes for hours and hours until we were both exhausted, covered in sweat and cum. Celeste sat me on the bed and began to undress me. When I tried to reciprocate she pushed my hands away telling me, “Not yet!” When I was completely naked she moved me to the center of our queen-sized bed, my rock hard dick sticking straight up into the air.

That’s when I found out what she had been doing—she tied my wrists to ropes that were already attached to the bed frame. When my hands were secured she stretched me out by tying my ankles to the frame at the foot of the bed. “I’m really glad now that Daddy made me take all those boating courses while I was in junior high. That’s where I learned to tie those knots. They’re really strong so I know you’ll be there until I let you go.”

“OK, honey, you got me. Just take one look at me…I need to fuck you so badly. Why are you still dressed?”

“First, Pierre you know I don’t like that word…I think you could say that you are definitely going to get ‘screwed’ tonight. It will definitely be a night you’ll never forget, but you’re not going to screw. Sorry.”

“What? What the heck’s going on, Celeste?”

“How often do we make love, Pierre?”

“Geez, Celeste…how many times do we have to do this? You know as well as I do that we make love twice a week, on Tuesday and Saturday nights, just like your parents.”

“Right, and how many times do you masturbate?”

“Haven’t we gone over this, too? You know I jerk off twice a week. I’d rather fuck you but you won’t do it more than twice a week.”

“That’s all my parents do it and if it’s good enough for them it should be good enough for you.”

“Celeste, let me remind you…again, for what must be the thousandth time… that I am not your father. I don’t know anything about his sex drive, if he even has one; I only know that twice a week isn’t enough for me. Haven’t we talked about this before?”

“Yes, we have. That’s why I’m done talking. I’m acting. I want you to save yourself for me. I think that masturbating is disgusting and sinful. I don’t want you doing it any more!”

“Fine…I’ll be glad to stop if you’ll just accommodate me.”

“No—twice a week is my limit and after tonight it will be your limit, too.” She reached under the bed and brought out a small box. I totally freaked out when I saw what it was; my eyes were big as saucers!

“CELESTE,” I screamed, “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? GET THAT FUCKING THING AWAY FROM ME! YOU’RE NOT PUTTING THAT MONSTROSITY ON ME!”

“First of all, don’t swear. You know I don’t like it. If you love me the way you say you do you won’t have any problem wearing it.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, if you love me you won’t even think about putting that fucking thing on me.” I began thrashing about. My limbs were secured, but my body wasn’t and there was no way she was putting that chastity thing on me if I could help it. Apparently, Celeste had thought this out pretty well because she produced two more ropes that she cinched around my waist and thighs and tightened with a piece of broomstick, screwing them tighter and tighter until I couldn’t move at all.

She put the cock cage on me—my erection had evaporated the instant I had seen that horrible thing– and locked it in place, telling me, “I know what you’re thinking—saw off the lock. I’m not stupid, you know. This is a special lock with a hardened hasp and a stainless steel body. It can’t be cut with a hack saw. Now, I’m leaving you there all night so get comfortable. You need to cool down. I’ll release you when I go to church in the morning.” She kissed my cheek, removed her clothes and climbed into bed with me. She fell asleep in minutes; I wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon, if at all. I was raging mad. It’s a good thing I was tied up; I was angry enough to kill her.

CHAPTER 2

True to her word Celeste untied me when she left for her weekly church attendance. I never went—personal issues, but that’s another story. No sooner had she backed out of the garage than I headed for my work bench. I pulled out my hack saw and checked the blade. I would have bet that Celeste had never seen a blade like this one. It had no teeth—not a single one. Some years ago I was wandering through a hardware store and saw it. The store owner told me it was incredible—it would cut through anything. It was a diamond blade with thousands of tiny industrial diamonds permanently epoxied to a heavy gauge steel shaft. I had used it for years and it was still as good as new.

I pulled the entire cock cage through the zipper opening in my jeans and examined it closely. I found that if I twisted the lock at an angle I was just able to get the blade onto the hardened shackle without risking my thigh or abdomen. This seemed to be the best bet as the lock’s body was made of stainless steel, an extremely hard substance and almost impossible to cut without a torch or hydraulic shears. I gripped the lock with a pair of Vise-Grips that closed over the cylindrical body making it much easier to position the lock and keep it there without risking my fingers, although a couple of cuts would have been worth it just to rid myself of this “thing.” I took long slow strokes, knowing that this might take a while. I sawed for five minutes before checking my progress—there were definitely the beginnings of a cut so I continued. It took just over a half hour, but the shackle eventually parted. I ripped that monstrosity from my body before putting the rest of my plan into action.

I spread a plastic painter’s tarp on the garage floor and went in to get all of Celeste’s shit. I dumped her clothes onto the tarp, emptying her closet in three trips. I used some trash bags to empty her bureau; I wasn’t very neat about it—I just dumped everything in. Her toiletries went into another bag. Finally, it was her shoes. It took me just over an hour, but I finished with time to spare—a little more than ten minutes. I sat on the front porch eagerly awaiting Celeste’s return.

She pulled into the driveway and raised the garage door with the remote. I stepped in front of her waving my arms to get her to stop, although it might have been poetic justice if she had driven over her own stuff. I opened the car door and pulled her out, removing my house key from her ring and the door remote from her visor in the process. “What are you doing, Pierre?”

“It’s quite simple, Celeste—I’m giving you the same consideration you gave me last night—none! I’m throwing you out. It’s a good thing you have an SUV. You’ll be able to take everything in one trip.” I lowered the rear seats and started to carry all her stuff to the car. Celeste stood by crying the entire time. Finally done, I handed her into the car and just before closing the door on her and our relationship, I gave her the cock cage she had bought for me. “Any time you’re wondering what went wrong just pull this out and look at it. I couldn’t care less that your parents use one. Personally, I always thought your father was one of the biggest pussies I’ve ever met. Here’s a check for half of what’s in our bank account, even though I earn more than twice what you do. I’ll take your name off the account first thing tomorrow. If you make any withdrawals before then I’ll have you charged with theft since you’ve already received more than your share. Also, here’s your wonderful lock. Remind me to teach you about diamond saw blades some day–now, good bye.” I closed the door, turned my back to her and walked into the house, leaving Celeste to wonder what the hell had happened.

I knew that Celeste had no place to go. Her parents were almost a hundred miles away—too long a commute to work, but that was too bad! This was my house—alright, technically it belonged to my parents, but since they moved permanently to Florida it was mine to use. I’d inherit it someday, but, of course, I hoped that would be far into the future. I walked in, turned on the TV, whipped out my cock and stroked it to hardness. I’d missed the great sex we usually had on Saturday night so I was badly in need now. I was still furious with Celeste, but cumming hard would take the edge off. I grabbed my cock between my thumb and forefinger, pulled the foreskin back, savoring the tension before slowly allowing it to spring back to the head.

I had only stroked it four or five times when it hardened, growing to more than twice its original size. There were times I’d enjoy lingering—slowly stroking and building to an eruption, but this morning my need was urgent. The frustrations of last night and Celeste’s stupid thoughtlessness magnified my need; I needed to cum and I needed it now. My pace increased as I gripped my cock more firmly. I could feel my balls clench as my semen forced its way through my body. I convulsed wildly as stream after stream of hot white cum shot several feet into the air before landing on my chest and stomach. It took several minutes for my breathing to return to normal. Celeste never masturbated; she didn’t know what she was missing.

CHAPTER 3

I was at work the following morning in my office at Smith, Smith and O’Malley. We’re architects; I’m O’Malley, the product of an Irish-American businessman father and a French Canadian mother. When the phone rang I answered it as I always do, “Pierre O’Malley.” I could hear crying so it had to be Celeste. “What?”

Between sniffles she managed to speak, “Can we talk?”

“If I remember correctly, you refused to talk to me, didn’t you? Now it’s my turn—I don’t really have anything to say to you. I said it once and I’ll say it again, good bye, Celeste.” I hung up the phone. Now, to be completely honest, I did miss her and I still loved her, but after what she did to me she deserved to suffer. I put her out of my mind as I returned to my latest project—remodeling a factory outlet mall for a national client. It was almost finished and now that I had nobody to go home to I’d stay late and finish it by week’s end—just in time for next week’s meeting with the client.

Celeste called every day over the next two weeks but I refused to speak with her. However, she did get through to me on Friday morning. “Please, Pierre…please say you’ll talk to me. I’ll do anything. I’ll get on my hands and knees and crawl if I have to.”

“OK, Celeste, let’s get together today for lunch. Come to my office and once you’re in the lobby get down and crawl to the receptionist and then into my office. Be here by 11:45. Then I’ll take you out for lunch and we can talk.” I hung up thinking that she’d never do it. Celeste had a lot of pride and self-respect. She’d never crawl—for me or for anyone. I was wrong.

I got a call from Reception at 11:48—Celeste had just crawled into the office and asked for me. “Send her back, Sally,” I told her as I rose from my desk and moved to the door. I would have laughed at Celeste under other circumstances but there was nothing funny about this. She was obviously desperate. I watched her crawl almost seventy-five feet. When she reached my office I pulled her up, “C’mon, get up. You look silly down there. How are you?”

I guess that was the wrong thing to say because she broke into tears again. I grabbed her arm and led her out the back to my car. In ten minutes we were seated in one of my favorite Italian restaurants. We ordered drinks and I sat back waiting for her to speak. Between sobs she could barely get it out, “I called…(sob)… my mother and…(sob)… told her what you said…(sob)… about…(sob)… Daddy. First, she laughed…(sob)… and laughed then she…(sob)… told me…(sob)…told me… she agreed with you. (sob)…(sob) Then she yelled at me. (sniff)…She called me a …(sob)…fucking…(sob)…fucking idiot for doing…you know…to you. Mother never swears. Oh, Pierre, I’ve been so miserable since you threw me out.”

“I always liked your mother; I always thought she made a lot of sense, and, of course, she knows more about your father than anyone.” I looked up at Celeste again and saw she was crying again. “Don’t cry, Celeste. You’ll find someone else.” I didn’t know why I was being so cruel. I guess it was some kind of revenge, because Celeste completely broke down. I signaled the waitress, telling her I was sorry, but we had to leave. I paid the check and helped Celeste to the car. She bawled all the way back to my office. We sat in the car for almost fifteen minutes while she composed herself. “Pierre, I admit I was wrong. I made a huge mistake, but I still love you and I want to be with you. Can’t you please forgive me? I’ll do anything…anything… to make it up to you. We can fuck every day if you want. I’ll even let you do anal. Please, Pierre…won’t you give me another chance?”

“OK, Celeste, you just had your confession. What comes next?”

“I don’t understand, Pierre.”

“You’re the one who goes to church here. When you go to confession what does the priest tell you to do.”

“Oh…you mean penance?”

“Right, you’ve confessed you made a mistake, but now you need to do penance. Be at my house at five sharp this afternoon. Remove your clothes and pile them neatly by the door.