An Education In Femdom: Put At Their Mercy (Femdom, Discipline, Public Sex, Multiple Partner)

Adam's dominant, Naomi, has applied for the two of them to become members in the highly exclusive Victorville-Tunisia Society, a BDSM network of the city's most powerful and influential women. Though Naomi Roberts surely falls within that category, she agrees that they must go through the Tunisia's rigorous screening process. Rather than questionnaires or resumes, the Tunisia uses only one metric to assess potential partners: the worthiness of the submissive. So it is that Adam finds himself standing alone before a gathering of the city's most powerful and sexually dominant women with only one task: obey.

Excerpt

"Anyone can give in to a little rough sex," she went on. "A firm hand or even a couple tight knots and most boys think they've learned what it is to give in and be used."

Her hand brushed upwards from my hip, caressing my tensed side almost imperceptibly, and then ran back down and out over my sensitive stomach. She felt me trembling in her hands - felt each little, automatic response to every contact she made with me. The hand rose again to my rising and falling chest, teasing at the nipple ever so lightly. I felt myself thrusting myself into her hand, begging for more substantial stimulation, but her hand withdrew just far enough to maintain its infuriating lightness.

All the while, the other hand worked its delicate touch up my thigh, claiming my body as hers one inch at a time.

As she continued to speak, her tone became quieter and more seductive, almost hypnotic. "But me, I can tell when a man is truly, utterly powerless. It doesn't have anything at all to do with ropes." The tips of her fingers brushed the seam of my briefs. "Do you know what I mean, Adam?"

"Yes," I gasped. I felt paralyzed by need, not just her touch but her orchestration. She was playing my body, and every note seemed to match a perfect harmony I had never listened for before. All the while it seemed that the air I breathed was of nothing but her scent, issuing me deeper into her world of physical bliss.

"Yes, ma'am," I repeated slightly less breathlessly in an attempt to hide my state from the onlookers. Jessica, of course, knew precisely what she was doing to me. There was no concealing this experience from her. And I would be safe in her arms, her touch told me. I could let myself go.

The hand between my legs rubbed over my underwear, cupping my balls ever so gently, and I let out an explosive breath.

"I could take anything you possess right now, couldn't I?" she asked softly. "Anything that is yours is being surrendered up to me. I can feel it in every breath you take."

"Yes," I breathed. "Yes."

Her fingers felt at the edge of my underwear and then in stages she nudged them aside. The pressure of the constricting garment moved away and I felt my cock extending out into the air. The thought that I was somewhere where I was uncomfortable with my cock being exposed seemed to flit back and forth somewhere in the distant recesses of my mind.

"I could manipulate you and use you and you would not even think to object."

"Yes," I repeated. Each word she spoke seemed infused with the pleasure her fingers were imparting to me. I held my breath as I felt them wandering up the underside of my shaft and the infinitely sensitive tip. I had not opened my eyes in the past minute. Nothing else existed but the part of me that she was touching.

"When I hold you in my fingers, you are going to be mine utterly."

"Yes," I agreed before I understood what she was saying. Then when I did, I repeated, "yes."