Scene 1
I couldn't believe I was doing it, even as I followed the tall blonde in the black PVC catsuit to the door with "Private" written over the door in tilting red script. I just went to the sex club to watch, at least that was my plan, but as soon as I saw her demonstrating the proper way to flog a man in a kneeling position, I knew I would be on my knees for her by the end of the night. I couldn't see anything inside the private room after she disappeared into the shadows.
"Close the door behind you, then turn around and press you palms and forehead to the wood," she commanded from the dark. I didn't hesitate to obey. Her catsuit creaked as she stepped up close behind me and ran her hands over the backs of my arms and shoulders to measure my compliance. She pushed even closer, using her chest and hip to pin me hard against the door. Her breath tickled my ear.
"Spread your legs. I want to inspect what you're offering. See if it's worth my time." I moved my feet apart, the fabric of my pants stretching tightly across my erection. She reached between my legs from behind me with one hand and cupped her palm roughly against my balls before squeezing my stiff cock through my pants. I groaned. Without a word, she unbuckled my belt, unzipped my pants, then pumped my burning cock in her fist. I was too turned on to resist her squeezing, stroking fingers and soon I was shuddering against her while thick spurts of my cum painted the door. She stepped away from me and pushed me to my knees. My eyes had adjusted well enough to the darkness of the room to look back over my shoulder to see her sit down in a chair. She crossed one glossy leg over the other and watched me.
"Lick that mess up so we can get started. At least now you won't come first thing."
I stared at my come, sliding slowly down the door. Was I really going to do this? I didn't even know her name.
Scene 2
Everything was in place for my anniversary surprise. My parents picked the kids up from school and were under strict orders not to call until Sunday night unless someone lost a limb. Takeout from the restaurant where we went on our first date fifteen years ago waited on plates in the oven. Champagne was chilling in the refrigerator. All I needed now was my husband.
"I'm home," he called, as he came in the door. I sat on the couch in the living room and listened to him stomp slush off his boots before leaving them in the mudroom. "Gina?"
"In here," I replied, smiling. He still had no idea.
"Where are the kids?"
"With my folks for the weekend. I have you all to myself." I set my face into an expression of imperious serenity as he popped out of the hallway. He stopped dead when he saw me in my white silk robe, the golden threads of the embroidered pattern catching the afternoon light. My curly black hair was pinned on my head with golden combs, a few ringlets framing my face. My makeup was light, except for my shocking red lips. He was so surprised to see me in my special clothes somewhere other than the bedroom that his mouth was literally hanging open. "Your awe is noted," I purred, fixing him with a heavy-lidded gaze, "but your supplication is lacking."
He was on his hands and knees at once, crawling across the floor to me. He kept his eyes on my feet.
"Please forgive me, my Goddess. Please forgive your worthless servant. I was so taken with your beauty that I forgot to pay proper respect."
"Is forgetfulness an excuse for disrespect?"
"No, my Light, it is not." His voice squeaked a little coming out. He was ashamed and apprehensive.
"With no excuse, the just thing for me to do would be to punish you, would it not?"
"You are always just, my Goddess. I deserve punishment. But I beg you to have mercy on me. Please, allow me to show you my love and devotion. If you will allow me to touch and kiss your feet, I promise I will show the proper respect this time."
I stroked his cheek with my bare toes. "I will allow it. Go retrieve your footbath basin from the bathroom. Change into the clothes I have laid out for you on the bed."
He sighed and rubbed his cheek against the top of my foot, still careful to avert his eyes. "Yes, my Goddess. Thank you for your sweet mercy to this poor supplicant."
****
These two very different scenes represent just two possible facets of the hundreds of scenarios that fall under the blanket definition of female domination. Femdom scenes are far more common as fantasy than reality. In a 2014 survey that's forthcoming in The Journal of Sexual Medicine, 53.3% of the men surveyed had fantasies of being dominated sexually. In a 2009 survey published in The Journal of Sex Research using a similar sample size and makeup of participants, women rated fantasy scenarios of female sexual dominance much lower than fantasies of female sexual submission and further indicated that they were far less willing than the male participants to want to make their fantasies a reality. With such a wide gap between the number of men who fantasize about femdom and the number of women who are willing to be sexually dominant, it's a fantasy many have but few realize.
Writing for Literotica is one way to explore that fantasy and bring it to others. Why aim to write realistically when fantasy is the ultimate goal? Your audience falls into one of two categories: people who haven't had an experience like the one you're describing in your story or those who have. For those who have, details of your story that are too fantastic read the same way as stories that refer to 38D breasts being bigger that 32D breasts - it marks you as someone who probably doesn't have any experience with the real thing. The majority of your readers are going to be in the first group. Some readers love the outsized fantasy; they want every Domme to be a six-foot redhead with impossible proportions wearing shoes with heels higher than a human foot can arch. The majority, though, fantasize about having a real-life experience that's likely to be out of reach. Writing more realistic erotica makes it easier for them to identify with your characters. For authors concerned with painting a realistic picture of femdom encounter, it can be difficult to know where to start.
Realistic, resonant female domination writing is far more than accurately describing the feel of a flogger or the sheen of a pair of boots. The action, regardless of what it is, can always be broken down into the Three Rs that must be considered and addressed: Relationship, Ritual, and Release.
Relationship
The Relationship between the people in a femdom scene isn't just a question of whether they're strangers or established play partners, although that makes a difference for how comfortable they are with indicating consent non-verbally. There are also issues of actual power imbalances as the background for a scene, and exploring them makes the story not only more interesting but more realistic.
In Scene 1 above, the two characters are strangers who met in the sexually-charged atmosphere of a club. While it can be tempting to have a character so overwhelmed with desire that he throws caution to the wind, it's not realistic - a reader won't connect to a character who does something so far outside what he himself would do in the same scenario. The male character submits without actually voicing doubts to the Domme, but that doesn't mean he's not experiencing them. He's excited, but also hesitant. Showing his uncertainty about totally submitting shows how strong his desire is rather than taking away from it.
The fact that the two in Scene 1 don't know each other also means their play starts out with low-stakes testing of consent and boundaries. She goes into the room, but he has to follow her to continue. She tells him what to do, but he shows he accepts her dominance by doing it. It ends with her most extreme request, but she's not holding his hair and pushing his face into the door, she's giving him the choice to continue. It's not because she doesn't think she can do it. If anything, she's got greater power making him do it by calm request from across the room instead of using physical force. Because they have never played together before, she uses the most extreme instruction to test how sure he is before they move into the flogging he saw her give someone else earlier.