Vibrating with Frustration
Bdsm Story

Vibrating with Frustration

by Flybynite1892 18 min read 4.8 (49,800 views)
femdom humiliation public humiliation foot worship chastity spaning women spaning men orgasm denial
🎧

Audio Narration

Audio not available
Audio narration not available for this story

Hey everyone - I don't have a ton of notes on this one; I think it's just a fun (and possibly gentle?) femdom story. Everyone here is older than 18 years old. And obviously, clearly, this is all fantasy...but as always, let's hope it's filthy fucking hot fantasy.

***

Josiah's phone buzzed on the table at his elbow. He frowned, pretty sure he knew who that text was from without even looking. He swallowed hard, mouth suddenly gone dry.

A small, companionable silence had drifted between him and Sofia, and there was only the music from the dance floor to fill in the space. Sofia stretched one long, perfect leg out from beneath the table, swiping at the ground yet unable to reach it from the tall chair in which she sat at the raised bar table.

Her heel slipped out of her black ballet flat, and the shoe dangled from her toes for a moment before she snapped the shoe back into place and pulled her foot beneath her again.

Desire lit up Josiah's core, and his penis strained against the confines of the chastity cage beneath his jeans.

"Oh sorry," she said, and giggled a tipsy giggle. "I didn't meant to...um...distract you."

Josiah shifted in his seat. Sofia was flirting, sure, but she wasn't being mean. She didn't know about the chastity cage. She also didn't know about Lady Lynne. All Sofia knew was that the last time they'd gotten drinks together, Josaih had had too many and told her about his thing for feet.

Something he never would've done sober, of course. Almost no one -- aside from a handful of a few ex-girlfriends -- knew Josiah was into feet.

Sofia, for her part, had been cool about it and hadn't brought it up again -- until now. Sofia was a lawyer though, and a criminal defense attorney to be exact. Maybe she was used to keeping things confidential.

"No, you're good," Josiah said, but he could already feel the blush in his cheeks. He forced a smile. "You're not distracting me."

Fucking flats. Had to be the ballet flats. Flats drove Josiah crazy, always had.

"I'm *not* distracting you?" She asked, and took a healthy swallow of her cocktail on the table between them. She laughed again, obviously feeling the alcohol.

"Should I be offended?"

Josiah rolled his eyes but he was smiling. "No, Sofia, you shouldn't be offended."

"So I've been meaning to ask you this," she said. "Because I've always fucking hated my feet. But, like, you specialize in this, right? I mean, you're an expert on hot feet. Are mine, like, awful? Or what makes a good pair of feet?"

Josiah snickered, but not much. The chastity cage was uncomfortable now. "You're actually not the first woman to ask me this."

"I bet not," Sofia said. "Society tells you that you have to be self-conscious about literally every part of your body. But, like, where do my feet rank?"

Josiah laughed. "Rank?"

"Yeah, like...top five women with the best feet you've seen," she said. "Where do you put my feet? I went to law school; I have to always rank myself in everything."

She sipped the cocktail again for a long time, those dark red lips against the rim of the glass.

"I don't know, Sofia," he said.

"Boo," she said. "Lame."

"You have very nice feet," he told her, which was an understatement, because Sofia's feet were currently making life in a chastity cage un-fucking-bearable.

"But like...like above average?" She said. "Like at least a B or a B+ right?"

Josiah blinked and smiled. "Law school really did ruin you, didn't it?"

"It ruins everyone," she said. "It self-selects for the worst people you know. But about my feet."

"Your feet are beautiful," Josiah told her. "I'd give them an A, not just a B+."

Sofia grinned. "That's what I wanted to hear."

Josiah's phone hummed against the table again and he knew it was Lady Lynne. He also knew not answering was a mistake.

He glanced from the phone to their nearly-empty glasses. "I'm going to get another drink. You want one?"

"Yes please," she said. "Another of those Aviation cocktails -- you were right, that gin and lemon combination is great."

"Noted," Josiah said, and stood.

He needed to check his phone, but he also needed a moment away from Sofia talking about her feet. The chastity cage was painfully tight now.

Sofia's feet were fucking gorgeous.

He got in line to get a drink and gave a long exhale.

He wasn't even dating Sofia. He'd run into her by chance in the courthouse a month-and-a-half ago, which was the only reason he knew she'd gone to law school and become a criminal defense attorney. She was there for work. He was there to attend mediation with Lady Lynne, because she'd filed eviction paperwork on him after he missed rent when he got laid off.

He remembered Sofia from college, an indie-hipster girl with blonde hair and brown eyes and huge glasses and sweaters, the kind of thing that was popular back then. She'd been a social justice warrior back then -- she'd double majored in social justice and journalism -- so maybe the whole law school thing made sense.

Either way, they'd been friends back then, but had lost touch after college. He hadn't talked to her during his marriage -- he hadn't really talked to many of his friends during his shitty marriage -- and she hadn't been on the list of people he'd wanted to connect with after the divorce.

He'd been a little surprised at how quickly Sofia wanted to pick up where they left off, but only a little. She was always the friendly extrovert, the one willing to break the ice to make a new person feel at home. She was a good person.

He didn't know how he was ever going to broach the subject of Lady Lynne and the chastity cage and all that, assuming things kept moving int his direction.

He glanced at his phone and yeah, Lady Lynne had texted him twice. She didn't like to be kept waiting.

"You're working a show with me on Saturday night," the text read. "Plan on being ready by 4:30 so we can get ready."

The second message read: "And plan on stopping by tomorrow night at 7. I want to inspect my cock."

Josiah scowled.

"My cock."

It was, indeed, her cock, at least according to the settlement he'd signed to keep from getting evicted. He was legally required to help her out with her shows as a result.

Those shows just involved him in chastity, was all, and she'd held onto the key ever since the settlement.

But sometimes Josiah could almost pretend things were normal. Sometimes he could pretend to just be a regular guy hanging out with Sofia at a bar on the night before Thanksgiving, partying before a Friday and a long weekend during which no one was really going to be doing much work anyway, especially in Sofia's field. Sometimes he could almost forget about the fact that his penis was stuck in a metal cage.

But Lady Lynne was never far away.

"Yes ma'am," he replied. "I'll be there."

He got the drinks and returned to the table where Sofia sat, scrolling through her phone. She looked up and smiled when he sat down across from her.

"OK," she said. "I promise I'll leave you alone about this. But I got to know. Do you have, like, a favorite kind of shoe?"

***

Lady Lynne lived in an ancient Victorian house in Upper Acidalia a few miles from the place Josiah rented from her and from a number of her other properties. She lived alone and, as far as Josiah knew, she always had. She'd never been married and never seemed to have wanted to be married. She fucked submissive men whenever she wanted, took a few of them on as her manservants from time to time, but never stayed with them long. Her shows at the Lepidoptera Theatre were only part fantasy -- she really did live the femdom lifestyle.

She grinned a wolf's grin at Josiah when she answered the door.

She still looked dressed from work -- slacks and a blouse -- and came off deceptively normal. He knew better there though.

"Josiah," she said, her voice exploding into a silver cloud in the frigid night. "Good to see you. And you're even early."

He was a bit early. But he knew damn well that he didn't want to be late either.

"Good to see you too, ma'am," he said through gritted teeth, resigned to his fate.

"Come inside," she said, and he followed her into the dark hardwood interior of the house, her high heels clacking on the hard surface.

It smelled like she'd been cooking -- or maybe one of her servants, now out of sight, had been cooking for her -- all warm spices against the chill outside.

He kept his head down and followed her through the dim parlor, up the narrow stairs. He didn't want to acknowledge the fact that Lady Lynne had a perfect fucking ass -- that watching it through only the thin black fabric of her slacks was making his penis swell in its metal prison -- but she did.

She was maybe in her early 40s or so -- a bit older than him -- and had been nothing but extremely cruel to him. He didn't *want* to want her sexually. But he did.

He followed her into her bedroom off the small, tight hallway. The room was a circular one; this was the interior of the house's turret. She closed the door behind them.

"All right," she said, and crossed her arms over her ample chest, gave him a stern glare through her glasses. "Strip. I want to see my cock."

Josiah gritted his teeth again, but knew there wasn't anything he could do. If he refused this, she could report him as being in violation of the agreement he'd signed to settle the eviction case. And if *that* happened she'd be able to kick him out of his apartment without further ado.

Acidalia was a lot of things these days, but "affordable" was not one of them. Especially on Josiah's post-divorce salary.

He slipped off his shirt and then stepped out of his shoes, dropped his pants, standing before her in nothing but his boxers.

The smugness rolled off Lady Lynne in waves. She raised her eyebrows hands on her hips now.

"Shy?" She asked. "You've got no reason to be. It's not like I haven't seen you this way before."

Josiah sighed, angry at the blush he still felt creeping across his face. Then he dropped his underwear.

He never got used to it, standing in front of his landlady who he fucking hated -- who had defeated him in court -- totally naked except for the tight, stainless steel chastity cage around his tiny penis.

She smirked, then fell back on the fourposter bed, beckoned him to come closer.

"Let me get a look at you," she said.

He walked closer to her, defeated, and let her put her fingertips on his caged penis. Then she put her palm beneath his balls and gave them a soft slap. Josiah winced and jumped back.

"How are those feeling?" She asked. "Kind of blue and backed up?"

Josiah sighed.

"Yes ma'am," he said.

"Mmmm good," she said, and smiled up at him. "Just the way we need you for this show tomorrow."

She kissed his caged penis and Josiah scowled. She cackled as she watched his caged cock try to swell through the bars of the cage.

"You don't want to get turned on by that do you?" She asked.

Josiah stayed silent.

She reached up and smacked him across the face with all the confidence of someone who expected to be obeyed and who had no problem doling out punishment when she wasn't. "Answer me."

"No ma'am," Josiah said.

She smiled. "Good boy."

She snapped her fingers, pointed at her feet, still clad in heels from the work day.

"Worship my feet," she said. "Now, you disgusting foot freak."

Josiah didn't want to like that either, but he felt the cage grip his dick tighter as he knelt in front of her and put his hands on her leather pumps.

He could smell her feet before he even had her shoes all the way off. When he put his hands on them her pantyhose were still damp, slimy with the sweat of the day.

"Kiss them bitch," she whispered from above him, scrolling through her phone.

Josiah raised one of her sweat-slick pantyhose-clad feet to his face and kissed it, breathed in the reek of her feet as he did. He scrunched his nose against the smell, blinked tears from his watering eyes.

Lady Lynne sighed on the bed above him. She put the sole of her other foot on the back of his head, ground his face deeper into her foot as she did. Then she gripped his nose with her toes through the sweaty nylon.

"Good bitch boy," she said. "Don't stop. And remember who you belong to."

***

Sofia set the novel down on the bed next to her and rolled over onto her back.

Fuck it, she thought. Even though it was the week of Thanksgiving and nothing much would be going on next week -- and even though she'd gone out for drinks with Josiah Wednesday night -- it had still been a long week. Still been a long couple of weeks.

She hadn't made much time for herself this week. She had, however, survived Thanksgiving with her family. She'd also been getting ready for a few trials and had multiple weighty motions due in court in the last few days, so she'd packed a full 55 or 60 hours into the last five days. Even went into the office on Sunday too, just to get a head start.

Now though...

Now it was the Friday night after Thanksgiving and a freezing rain had just begun to fall, just begun to patter her bedroom window outside. And she was now very much aware of the fact that she was in the mood to get off.

She ran a hand down her stomach to her legs, brushed the insides of her thighs, and thought about Erin telling her she might be a sadist.

Erin, for her part, was super stoked about the prospect of her best friend also potentially having a sadistic side. Erin was probably the most sadistic person Sofia had ever met, although Erin was also very conscious of keeping it confined to consensual bedroom situations. Still, though, men did not last long under reign, and Erin took it as a point of pride.

Sofia wasn't *that* mean. In fact, for most her life, she hadn't allowed herself to be mean at all. It was only recently that she'd left a certain door in her mind unlocked, and certain thoughts -- thoughts about watching men in pain or begging for orgasm -- began to slip through.

She'd always had those thoughts, she realized. She'd just never given them the free reign they needed to really unspool and become full-on fantasies. Her long-term boyfriend -- the guy she'd broken up with a year ago -- hadn't been into any of that at all, and Sofia had muted herself for him in so many ways.

Much to Erin's disgust, of course.

Sofia still felt guilty about maybe liking other people's pain. She didn't like to cause people pain. Her job as a defense attorney was to talk to people on the worst days of their lives -- meet them when they were at their lowest -- and try to help them through the cruelties of the court system. She was used to taking care of people.

But what if taking care of men meant punishing them sometimes? When they needed it?

The thought was delicious to her as she began to touch herself and closed her eyes and her heartbeat began to quicken.

Erin hadn't so much pitched her the idea of going to Lady Lynne's show at the Lepidoptera Theatre tomorrow night as she had drafted Sofia into the effort. Sofia was still hesitant about it but, in moments like this -- really digging deep into the fantasy of enjoying someone else's frustration and humiliation -- she could be honest with herself about the fact that she was curious.

Now she was imagining it, some helpless slave begging for release -- any kind of release -- on his hands and knees while an entire theater full of people watched and cheered and laughed and drank in this delicious spectacle of schadenfreude-tinged-humiliation.

It was a hot thought. A really hot thought, she realized, heartbeat quickening as she arched her hips and rubbed herself faster, growing wetter as she did.

The idea of watching it, of course, was hot; there was something hot and taboo about watching someone have to debase themselves that way in public, with a crowd looking on. Sofia felt filthy for liking the idea, but there it was, and anyway, the wetness on her fingers wasn't lying about how she felt about the idea.

But it was hotter -- and dirtier -- to imagine this poor hapless slave begging *her* for permission to cum, putting *her* in charge of his fate, whether he really wanted to or not.

Now *that* was a hot thought, she realized, slipping deeper and deeper into the fantasy as she did, fleshing it out in her mind some. She'd stand over him and get herself off, make him watch while he begged and his balls ached and his body screamed with the need for relief -- a relief she'd have no intention of giving him at all.

A few weeks back, she'd come across a technique to torture men just like this. A lost art, something the ancient Atalantahnan women used to do to their husbands and cuckolds and male slaves. Modern dommes had revived it, dug it up and mixed it with modern knowledge of massage and tantric sex, and Sofia couldn't stop thinking about it. It involved movement and pressure of the hand between the male submissive's legs, just behind their balls, in all the right places, to drive them to the absolute brink of orgasm...and then keep them there...while their queens and princesses and mistresses got themselves off and they had to listen to the whole thing...maybe taste the end result...

"Fuck," Sofia moaned through gritted teeth, eyes still closed, as the orgasm roiled across the surface of her brain and through her body and she shuddered against the bedsheets.

She let out a long breath, then took another one and kept going.

This was way too fucking hot to stop.

***

"We should have a pretty good crowd tonight," Lady Lynne told Josiah that Saturday night. "Just based on the ticket sales and everything. It being the weekend after a holiday probably doesn't hurt either."

She smirked at Josiah, who stood before her in the dressing room naked, the low light glinting on the metal of his chastity cage. He didn't want to admit how hot she looked -- black corset, black garters and stockings, thigh-high latex boots -- but she did. She knew how to dress, he thought, watching her slip on a pair of elbow-length black gloves. She wasn't trying to look like she was 22 years old; she came off as a confident queen who had seen it all, surveying her domain with an air of cruel amusement.

"What do you think, bitch? Think you'll be able to cum tonight? For once?"

Josiah scowled.

Lady Lynne laughed. "That's what I like to see. An acknowledgement of just how fucked -- or, maybe, not fucked -- you really are."

She moved closer to him and he could smell her perfume and her shampoo now, the smell of her skin and her hair beneath that. She ran a hand down his chest and stomach until she brushed the cage with her fingers again, just as she'd done the night before. Josiah sighed in frustration.

Lady Lynne giggled.

"Do you regret not paying that rent on time?" She asked, reached a little lower and bouncing his balls in the palm of her hand.

Josiah winced. They were full, sensitive.

"Yes," he said.

Lady Lynne gave him a harder smack to the balls. "Yes what?" She asked.

"Yes ma'am," he told her.

"Good," she said. "That's much better."

She smiled again.

"Bet you're never going to be late on rent ever again are you?" She asked.

"No ma'am," Josiah said, embarrassed to even hear himself say it so easily.

He was her puppet. He really did belong to her.

"I'm going to go see how the audience is doing," she told him, then gave him a savage wink. "I'll be back though, don't you worry about that."

She paused on the way out of the dressing room and threw a glance over her shoulder.

"Why don't you get that ball gag out and get ready," she said. "It shouldn't be too long now."

***

Sofia had never been to the Lepidoptera Theatre before. She'd heard the name, of course -- the whole concept of a BDSM-themed dungeon and theater going into a historic Victorian house had caused a stir at the Acidalia Planning and Zoning Commission 15 years prior -- but, like most everyone else in the city, she hadn't heard much about it after that. There were no scandals or public spectacles.

Enjoyed this story?

Rate it and discover more like it

You Might Also Like