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From: dantedibby@aol.com (Dantedibby)
Subject: New Story: Muse, by Seurat (femdom? rom, implied sex)
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Taking a break from my little Twighlight Zone series which, while somewhat
popular, definitely has a recurring theme which I would like to distance
myself from at least every once in a while. This one is a quickie that
hits pretty close to home. The names, dates, sexes, and actual
conversation have been changed to protect the guilty.
Is this what other writers go through?
Muse, by Seurat.
I rushed home, ideas for plot twists and pieces of conversation
vying for attention in my head. This was the way it usually happened to
me: a core plot idea would be introduced into my head, and all the other
elements would form around it like sugar around a piece of string in old
fashioned rock candy (for those of us that can remember stuff like rock
candy). I called it ‘the muse', I had a limited time to get the ideas
down
before I would begin to forget them.
I sat at my computer, fingers flying in my own version of touch
typing.
‘Mistress Janet stode down the hallway, her five inch spike heels
clacking on the wood parquay floor. The leather covering her body
creaked because it was so tight, but it gave the effect she wanted:
lifting
squeezing, exposing and hiding, all at the same time. She walked up to
where she had left her husband hanging - literally. Clothespins covered
his body, concentrated in the more sensitive areas. "You're in luck, my
little sissy slut slave. I've got some friends coming over tonight that
will
just love turning you into my little french maid and then teaching you how
to serve us properly. Tonight you'll learn how to sexually satisyfy a
woman's pussy. And a man's cock!"'
"What are you doing?" I jumped in surprise; I had never even heard
my wife come up behind me.
"I had another idea for a story."
"Another sex story? Let me see." I moved away, blushing, from
the computer. "What kind of story is it?"
"It's called ‘femdom'. Women in leather, and all that. You know."
"What's a ‘mistress'?"
"That's a term for a dominatrix. It's what her slave would call
her."
"Sort of corny, isn't it?"
"Some people like it." She kept reading.
"Not much of a relationship, is it?" She sounded a little confused.
I guess I did now, too. "What do you mean?"
"Well, this Janet lady ties up her husband so she can dress him up
like a girl and force him to have sex with other people, right? I would
think any wife worth her salt wouldn't want him fooling around with
anybody else." She motioned for me to get out of the chair, which I did.
"It's the way these stories usually go."
She looked up at me. "I thought you had this whole ‘twist' thing to
your works. What were you planning for this one?"
"The husband leaves her for the other guy."
"Stuuuu-pid." I felt a little angry at her. After all, I was the
one that
wrote these stories, and read even more. She didn't have any experience
at all.
"What would you suggest?" My voice dripped with cynicism. She
got up and motioned me back to the chair.
"First of all: five inch heels and leather may be your fantasy, but I
don't think it reflects reality all that much."
"It's supposed to be a fantasy." I mumbled.
"What was that?"
"Nothing." My wife began massaging my shoulders as she dictated
story changes.
"Get rid of that ‘mistress' line, too. You'd feel a little silly
calling
me that, wouldn't you?
"Maybe." Not if you dressed up in leather, though.
"Clothespins? Ouch! I'd rather just tease somebody. I don't know
if I could cause them pain like that. And why does she have him tied up?
Take that part out too. Make him the one walking down the hall, with her
in the bedroom. That way he doesn't know what lies in wait for him, sort
of like a spider and the fly. To me that is the way real femdom should
be.
Subtle power over the male, not forced. Much more erotic."
"Doesn't leave much to the story then, does it. You've changed
everything." I sounded depressed even to myself.
"Yes, but it is a little more realistic. Now, you'd better finish
this
story. I'm going to bed now, and if you walk the dogs and get to bed
quick enough, I may reward you for being so receptive to my
suggestions." She got up and went upstairs.
I caught her intentions easily, and decided I could finish the story
another time.
I finished with the dogs and went upstairs to where my wife awaited
me. She was right: it truly was a type of feminine domination, and I
loved it. But just once I wish she would dress up in the leather and
boots.
Just to see what it was like.
End.
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