1. (Femdom story) Wendell and how he got that way by


    Date: 7/21/2015, Categories: BDSM, Fetish, Hardcore, Author: wickedguy333, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    nodded, sniffling. “Well, just remember that, okay Wendell?” She lovingly stroked his face. “Girls like me don’t like it when wimps like you don’t show us enough respect. Understand?” Wendell shook his head yes, blinking back tears. “But I thought we could talk a little – “ “Look, Wendell,” she said, putting her face close to his, nearly making him swoon. Between her perfume and her soft hair brushing against his face, he was getting harder by the second. “The thing is,” she moved his face to the side so she could whisper in his ear, her lips curled up into a villainous sneer. “I need a fucking wimp like you in my life like I need a hole in the head. I’m embarrassed to even be seen next to you, you’re such a little nerd. You want to pay me for my time, fine. Pay me. But don’t expect me to fucking talk to you like I’m your friend. Got that shrimp-dick?” She was squeezing his face now, hurting him. “Maybe it’s because we got off to such a bad start, maybe it’s something about your face, I don’t know, but I fucking hate you. You want to touch me? You expect me to wiggle my ass on your teeny dick and rub my hands on your pathetic excuse for a body? Forget it. I’m only here to take your money, and you’ll take whatever I give you for it, understand? You don’t like it, get the fuck out and forget about ever seeing me again.” She let his face go and stood towering over him. “I said, do you understand?” she barked. “Or do you never want to see me again?” “Y-yes,” he stuttered. ...
    Looking at her standing over him like that made his cock so hard. How could he ever give up this feeling? “Yes, Miss Diana. I understand.” “Good. Now give me all your cash and scurry up into the booth. Sit on your hands, and tilt your fucking head back.” Wendell had been completely subdued in the first week with Diana. He saw her three times that week, and thought about her constantly, jerking off to visions of her several times a day. The only reason he didn’t see her every day that week was that he feared he was going insane. He’d never felt such and obsession for anyone or anything. He knew that what he was doing wasn’t exactly normal and was terrified of what might come next. During that first week, his nights with Diana pretty much followed a routine. First, he had to call her pager at least a day in advance to let her know he was coming in and at what time (rule #3). Then, upon arrival, he’d pay $20 to the cashier at the front door and immediately drop to his hands and knees. Next, he crawled through the snickering crowd, enduring catcalls and taunts, looking for her, finding her at the bar. After paying his five hundred dollar “homo tax”, he would crawl to an open booth, sit on his hands (rule #4 – he was never allowed to put his freaky, degenerate hands on her ideal, young body) and wait for her. Then, without putting her hands anywhere else but his head (rule #5 – she would never fucking touch his ugly ass), Diana would rub her panty-enclosed pussy into his face, r****g it ...
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