Dangerousangleofadream - Femdom

There’s nothing I love more than being a desperate little slut for her.

It was a new beginning for you and your fiancée. After she accepted the marriage proposal, she had a few for you to accept.

I guess she’s just putting the boundaries in place early, but she’ll tell you all about it this evening. Then you can start shopping for bridal lingerie. You’ll look adorable in white, honey.

Women in command!

True story, recent...

 I was coming back home for a break on a plane yesterday. Before boarding I had noticed (it was kind of impossible not to) this Goddess with short leather pants exposing magnificent creamy white legs in clear heeled flesh-pink boots with matching pink socks. I had to pick my jaw up off the floor the first time I looked at (and drooled over) her.

I tried to talk to her two times on the plane, but her response was pure ice-bitch both times. The second time she cut me down to size in front of other passengers and a stewardess. I walked back to my seat like a humiliated dog with my tail between my legs. I stared at her boots (all I could see from my seat) and tried (unsuccessfully) to imagine being a real stud who was good enough to fuck her.

I was walking in town after and two beautiful women were walking down the stairs from the train to the street. One in a tight tube top exposing her perfect midriff and tight against magnificent breasts, the other in skin tight white see through jeans and a low cut top. Total power and perfection. They were taking selfies, posing and primping on the stairs, no doubt tormenting their many social media orbiters with what they can never EVER have.

As I looked trance-like, the tube top girl gave me a look of total rejection, disgust and contempt, while the tight jeans girl called me out verbally.

Later I relived their collective contempt as I orgasmed with my girlfriend. My first sex in three months. My first orgasm in three months.

I remember, just now, some exercises a bitchy girl I know had told me to do several months back, that I tried, and failed, to do. They involved a hands free orgasm where I clasped my hands behind my back, imagined ridicule from women who had rejected me across the years, and came hands free to my humiliation. Even though I was not able to complete the exercises after several attempts upon her order; it appears her goal of having me only able to achieve orgasm to humiliation by SUPERIOR WOMEN like her has been realized. I admit I had been going down that road for a while, but had, for the most part, fought it off -till she arrived on the scene. Now I cannot orgasm without some measure of humiliation.

I see sexy, powerful women, and all I want to do is serve them. My sex drive is for the most part subjugated. Or connected to service.

But I am not unhappy with this turn of events. And it doesn't necessarily make me feel like a loser, either.

I just feel like beautiful women are superior to me. Period. They do not want me. They never have. They never will, unless it is as friends.

BUT I still WANT THEM. Bad. So I need to put up with any mistreatment they wish to give me, if I wish to play ANY role in their lives.

That's just what real life as an inferior doormat to hot girls I want but can never have, is....

Quite!!!

The first day in the stable always requires the most adjustment.

(With Damazonia.)

A rant about unobtainable fantasies

I'm not really in the mood to make a caption right now, so instead, I decided I would just write a normal post, like a normal human being, ranting about the fact that there are so many fantasies I just wish the real life me would be cruel enough to actually pursue.

I don't know if that post would worth anything to anyone, if it'd be sexy for any of you, but I don't care, this is me, talking about myself. That is the peak of what could possibly interest little ole' narcissistic me ^-^

Empathy is a weird thing for a sadist to deal with. Because on one hand, I truly do derive my pleasure from dragging people through hurt and pain and a certain amount of agony, but the extremely empathetic parts of me make it so I can't really enjoy the deeper parts of my sadism. The parts that want to break a boy, make him -really- beg me to stop, make him cry but not for the game of it, real, actual tears of endless torment, the kind that he would never sign up for, but still can't resist agreeing to.

I'll give an example -

I have no problem admitting that I'm a good looking woman, finding people that would fall on their knees for my attention is... I wouldn't say natural, or anything, but not really a challenge. If I wanted to manipulate a poor boy into his own demise, which I so desperately do, it would be something I could, potentially, achieve.

It would be a challenge, don't get me wrong. Getting a boy so desperately in love with me, that he would do absolutely anything for my time and attention, even things he so badly does not want to do... Like, the ultimate friendzoned simp. I could, so easily, wrap a guy around my little finger so tightly, that he would actually believe that when I say I want him locked in a chastity cage so he could save himself for me, for when I'm ready for a real, mature relationship with him, he would actually believe me. It might take some time, some convincing, but I'm great at convincing boys to do what I want them to do... Use just the right touch, the right words, the right smile... And that's all it takes, once the lock is shut, I wouldn't even have to keep the pretense going anymore.

Of course I will, because it's just that much more fun. I would still touch him, more than I ever did, when he takes me out to a movie, we could snuggle the whole time. When he takes me out to restaurants, my foot could find its way across his thighs. Soon enough, my requirements will go up. Steeply. If at first, a simple movie date would be enough, now it's shopping sprees, renting a yacht, flying us to Paris... I would make sure that whoever I would have picked for this special role would be someone with a very well paying job, because if there isn't a lot to take, than what's the point in even taking, really?

Soon enough, every time we would go out, it would end in the same way. He would beg and plea with me to take the cage off, because it has been months, or even years, since he last had a relief, and I would pretend to be offended, that he prefers carnal pleasures over the joy of our love. Of course, nothing would stop me from going out with other guys during that time, but I'm sure he'd understand... I mean, with other guys it's just sex... I'm waiting till I'm ready for something real... something deep with him... How could I possibly be ready for anything like that if I don't have a place to vent my immediate needs? I have sex *for us*, he should be grateful that I do it.

But eventually, I will unlock him. He would have to agree to be tied up, of course, because in his condition, how could I possibly trust him not to jump me as soon as he gets out? And... We can't possibly ruin what we have by him jumping the gun too fast, right? Our first time should be special, and special things are worth waiting for. So, I would tie him up to my bed, maybe he would be a little freaked out at first, seeing how good I am with the ropes, but whatever caution signs his brain would fire at him, I'm sure would be cast aside as soon as his cock springs free from the cage. And that's when I would unleash the demon inside of me. Hours, upon hours, and hours, of licking, sucking, kissing, tickling, stroking, rubbing against different parts of my body, anything I can think of to just bring that poor boy as close as possible to orgasm. Every time he gets close, I stop, telling him I just want to make it as good as possible for him. Undoubtedly, eventually he would snap. He would scream at me, or cry, or even maybe swear at me(wouldn't that be perfect?), and me? Of course I would be offended to the very bone of my being. Being so nice and sweet to him, just to get this kind of treatment? That's one hell of a way to get a lady out of her mood.

It's possible, that by this time, he would regret agreeing to wearing the cage. Even if it means losing me(hopefully, my claws ran so deep on his soul by that point that he would absolutely agree on his own accord to go back to chastity, but who knows?). It is possible that he would say he want out of the deal. He doesn't want to be with me, he just wants to be free. Of course if that ever happens, that only means he lost sight on what's truly important. He's thinking with his dick again, he's becoming just like any other guy. And I love and care for him too much to allow that to happen. The cage is there to help him, really. He should be grateful.

At some point in our relationship, I would decide we have to move in together, because there's no sense in him paying for two different apartments, and twice the bills, so instead, I'm just gonna move in to his place. I wouldn't even mind sharing a bed with him, as long as he agrees to certain ground rules. The chores are his domain, as they were before, only now, instead of having to clean up two apartments, he only has to clean up one. So, again, me being the benevolent friend that I am... Whenever I bring a guy home, he should disappear. I don't care if he has nowhere to go, for all I care, he should jump in the closet and wait until I'm done. His money pays for everything, even if it means he has to give up on his silly little hobbies. And most importantly, he should allow me to experiment.

Experiment means, that if, for example, I wake up one day feeling aggravated, and I just want to see what it's like to kick a ballsack, as payback for all the shit boys had put me through my entire life, he should allow me to do that. If it means that I want to see what would people say if he brings out his cockcage and tell them that I put him in it two years ago and he hasn't had an orgasm since, then he should do that. If it means that I want to see if a man's cum taste different when a man taste it than when I do, then he should let me share a load after I'm done blowing a stranger, and tell me how it tastes like...

Slowly, but surely, I would strip him of everything that made him who he was. His hobbies, his self-image, his self-respect. Everything. But the thing is, I'm not sure I'd be done then, either. When it's all said and done, and he doesn't have a dime in his bank account, and all his possessions are on my name, and I've led him through a living hell, then the only thing I would have left to take from him is, well, me.

How much of a heartbreak would it be, for a boy that has gone through SO MUCH just for the chance to be with me, a boy that was never into any of the things I've done to him, the only thing he wanted was for me to reciprocate his feelings, to finally have that confirmation that I have absolutely no interest in him, and I never had, and never will have. The only role he could ever play in my life is to be... this. Not even this, because so far I had to pretend, now I don't have to pretend anymore... Now I can stop caring completely. All the things he gone through so far would be child's play compares to what he would have to face going forward, and now, he wouldn't even have the hopes of getting anything else. Just... This, desperate, hopeless, endless hell. I would leave him the choice. He can go free, out into the world, with a broken body, an empty bank account, a locked up cock, and see what he can make of himself out there. Or he could stay in my care, and learn what it means when I could truly not give a single shit about his wellbeing.

Sometimes, my empathy blocks me from being, and living, and achieving my true potential.

Thank god for tumblr, where I can write longass fantasies, about what I would do to a boy, if I were the sociopath I sometimes wish I would have been.