Tales of Female Depravity by Lance Edwards
Lured by their seductive power, unsuspecting males fall willingly into the hands of hard-core Dominatrix’s, controlling wives and sadistic femmes, who sole purpose is to dominate their male counterparts, whether it’s a sizzling romp in bed or total slavery and emasculation. Hot, sexy, buxom females take charge in this new collection of Femdom Stories from author Lance Edwards.
In Subtropical Surrender, a Las Vegas call girl sets her sights on her latest john – a handsome and wealthy male who she’ll quickly turn into her doting and submissive husband. Then Ravenous Raver is a sexy punk chick, who takes her naive hook-up home for some heavy bondage and a good ass and face reaming before she finally lets the poor guy go. Next, his pretty fiance Shauna is a nurse, and Just What the Doctor Ordered is a thorough medical exam from her ruthless femdom colleague, Dr. Brant. Not until he’s turned into a groveling sissy-boy and anal trained will this brutal exam be over.
Then, a needy public servant hires Cruel Lucy to abuse him – little does he know he’ll not only be brutally bound and whipped, but all his body hair will be burned off by a candle flame before he’s forced to take her hefty dildos. As Megan’s Plaything he becomes her toilet-boy, torture-boy and whipping-boy – soon to be her ‘impotent-boy’. Despite the horror she has in mind, he knows he’ll willingly submit.
Then when this surprised husband is Caught in the Closet wearing her lingerie, the formidable Asian wife brings in her Domme friends to give her husband the painful punishment he deserves. And Heather’s Hell really smolders, when a weekend in the woods turns into a ‘weenie’ roast with Heather’s willing victim bound to a tree for a night of torture.
These stories and more! Graphic content includes heavy bondage, torture, severe whipping, suspension, hard anal, fisting, humiliation, electro torture, tasers, pissing drinking, female worship, feminization, male milking, hot wax, cock cages, chastity, gags, hoods, chains, rope, dungeons and plenty of gloriously depraved females!
Jack kissed his new wife on the tip of the nose.
“Come on honey, you’re going to love this. Blackroot Castle is just riddled with secret passages.” He took her by the hand, and drew her with him to the left rear corner of the room.
Passing a giant bookcase groaning with tomes, he led her around a large potted fichus tree. Behind it lay a narrow slit of black. Grinning back at her, Jack turned sideways, pushed past the branches, and edged into the slit. She followed, and soon they were behind the bookcase, sidling along a darkened space so narrow that Kira’s breasts brushed repeatedly against the rough-hewn basalt.
This set off a pleasant, anticipatory tingling in their tips, an excitement augmented by the charm and romance of the secret passage. Then Jack turned a tight corner, leading the way into a marginally wider but still uncomfortably strait corridor.
Here ancient iron sconces supported widely spaced candles, lending a dim yellow glow to the timeless stone. Proceeding in single file they soon caught the sense in Alex’ remark about ‘following their nose’.
Scattered underfoot were thousands of rose petals, and even whole blooms.
Their perfume was thick in the air, and growing as the flowers were crushed underfoot. Kira’s excitement climbed apace and she took advantage of the tight quarters to start pinching and prodding, goading Jack along with insistent gropes from behind.
He giggled a little, picking up speed, and after about fifty yards they reached another right-angled baffle. One after another they eased around the turn, slipped past a standing suit of armor, and emerged onto a small arc of landing.
Spiral stairs continued above and below, and this plus the curved wall indicated that they’d reached the promised tower.
Old-fashioned oil lamps mellowly illuminated the black stone throat of the passage, and the carpet of roses led on up the steps. Marshmallows, sugar almonds, chocolate kisses and other candies also littered the floor, and gay streamers and ribbons decked the walls and ceiling. Jack stole a quick kiss and then started right up.
Taking advantage of his greater elevation Kira gleefully continued her goosing and groping, driving her new man up and around, up and around, through a dizzy fog of scent-drugged excitement, until at last they emerged, breathless and giddy, into the East Tower’s uppermost chamber. Climbing through a hole in the floor they rose and froze, stunned into wonder by their awaiting boudoir.
The simple room was a perfect cylinder, high and spacious and minimally adorned. Yet here adornments were unnecessary, practically superfluous. The omnipresent black walls had been polished to an obsidian gloss, each stone reflecting the fires of over a hundred candles. The only exception was an open arc east, where a wide curved balcony offered a stunning view of the tropical sea and stars.
Planets and constellations shone in glorious profusion, but these distant conflagrations couldn’t hold a candle to the ones inside the stone. Interspersed with and encircled by a blazing galaxy of inch-high flames, the room’s few furnishings consisted of a series of smaller circles, strategically offset within the greater perimeter of the tower.
One of these sank into the floor, a whirlpool spa large enough for a hippo to bathe in. Already it was bubbling, churning, steaming. Past the heated racks of towels et cetera stood a small dressing table and wardrobe. But enormous against the far wall, dominating the rest of the room, arose the elevated, stone-girdled circle of the gigantic feather bed.
The trail of candies, flowers, ribbons and streamers led right up to the rim, the old black rock here worn almost waxy with the passages of millennia. There all but the petals petered out, and sumptuous furs and silken pillows took over.
Kira cast her glance upward, already knowing what she’d see. Sure enough, twenty feet above the bed was a matching round mirror, perfectly reflecting the scene below. The glass was even specially beveled to magnify the image.
Those Romans certainly knew how to live. At last her body remembered to breathe, and Kira sucked in a sudden huge breath.
Dizzy and a bit winded from the long climb, she felt the room spin about her: a million fireflies trapped in a can. Kira was in great shape though, and despite the evening’s earlier excesses (and maybe because of those still to come), sufficient equilibrium soon returned.
She looked at Jack then, a long, heavily freighted look that shared their mutual decision to stoke those inner fires just a little bit further. They separated, Kira wandering over to examine the magnificent accommodations while Jack moved off to the balcony.
Another big mirror was situated where the stone circles of bed and wall met. Below this, right at the point of intersection, was a small stone lid. Curious, Kira lifted it.
Steam rose, disclosing a deep, heated well filled with hot, damp towels.
The new lady of the household Keller smiled to herself.
This Tonia didn’t miss a trick when it came to arranging bedroom scenes. She replaced the lid, noticed the magnum of champagne chilling nearby, and spun the bottle to see the label.
Dom Perignon, 2014. Naturally. Marveling at her new friends’ hospitality, Kira moved at last to check the mattress.
Reputed to be goose-down, over two feet thick, it looked every bit as inviting as Jack’s elaborate blandishments had led her to expect. She tested its plush with a push, and the springy, eager response of the bedding returned her attention to her reflection. She appraised the hot flush in her face, the flaring of her nostrils and the sparkle in her eyes. Then she reached up to tug free the restraints that bound up her heavy fall of hair.
Thick, shiny blonde locks tumbled free. She shook them out, teased them a bit, then unclasped and dropped her belt. Then, slipping free the buttons on her shirt, she moved at last to join her husband on the balcony
The air was springtime warm, but a cooling breeze licked its way inside her loosened clothing. She moved up to Jack, still admiring the spread of the heavens, and slipped an arm about his waist.
“Hey, lover-boy, why didn’t you tell me any of this before? It bothers me that there’s so much about you I didn’t know.”
Jack turned to meet her gaze. Still looking up a bit, he found another scintillating infinity in the depths of her eyes.
“Because to do that would’ve made this trip a bribe. I wanted to win your hand on my own merits. This way I can call the coming week a reward, the best honeymoon in history in return for the most desirable bride ever.”
Kira smiled at the flattery. But she took the repeated implications of payment as a challenge
“A reward, huh?” Her already whetted smile sharpened, taking on a familiar, extremely devilish cast.
“I’ll reward you, Mister Mars-has-pink-sky-and-blue-sunsets. Never let it be said I couldn’t make commensurate recompense.”
She spun him around, propelling him violently backward and into the room. Ignoring his sputtering protests, she used her superior size and strength to drive him effortlessly toward the bed, picking him up at last and flinging him down into the receptive center of the flower-littered, fur-covered, silk-pillowed goose-down mattress.
“It’s time for my contribution to the incredible, unforgettable honeymoon!”
Panting and growling and absolutely seething with zeal she dove atop his squirming body. There followed a frenzied ripping and tearing of clothes, an unstoppable (and immediately unforgettable) female attack, and we will unfortunately have to exercise enough propriety to leave the new couples’ nuptial celebrations to themselves.