Discovering Power

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Chapter 6

Regina and I giggled. Roger turned a deep shade of red.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Take your clothes off and give them to me. You won't need them this weekend." Regina commanded.

"You can keep your shoes." I added.

Soon Roger was standing there in front of us in just his tennis shoes. The shoes seemed to exaggerate his nakedness. This was the first "full" view that either Regina or I got of Roger in the buff. Being in such close quarters in the dorm room, we never really got to see more than just body parts.

"Stand there," I ordered, pointing to the middle of the room. "Turn around," I said, doing a circling motion with my up-pointed finger.

Roger held his arms out and did a slow turn as Regina and I made comments on his body.

"Oooh, look at those cute buns," Regina remarked.

"Not as pink as the last time we saw them, eh? But I guess we can take care of that later."

I decided to get down to business. "I'll turn off the drain valve. Roger, your job is to get the water. There's a holding tank on the roof. The ladder is on the side of the house, and I will show you where to fill it. It will take about 20 buckets to fill it."

Regina and I sat on the porch sipping our iced teas and watched as Roger trudged back and forth with the pails. I had an uncle who was in the army, and he used to refer to his group as "every swinging dick." It suddenly hit me what he meant. I suddenly had a vision of a whole group of army men marching along in formation, wearing nothing but boots and helmets and carrying rifles. Of course they'd swing their arms as they marched, but that wouldn't be the only thing that was swinging. Every time I looked at Roger as his hips swayed back and forth to counter the weight of the buckets as he walked, this image came to my mind.

Regina and I might be slave masters, but we were benevolent slave masters. We made sure Roger took breaks and even gave him some iced tea. We were going to work him hard, but we were not going to abuse him.

Once that task was finished, I decided to rest him. "Slave," I yelled over to him, "go inside and get the bolster off the couch and bring it out here." I had him put it down on the porch. "Get on your back," I commanded. He lay down. "Are you comfortable?" He nodded, "yes." "Arms over head" I commanded.

Regina and I pulled our chairs over so we sat on either side of him and rested our feet on his body. I delighted in rubbing my toes up and down his ribs, tickling his feet. He curled up and tried to cover himself with his hands.

"This won't do at all," Regina remarked. "Do you have any rope?" Roger looked at me, eyes screaming, "NO!"

I ignored his plea. "Of course we do. I'm sure we have some in the tool shed." I would have sent Roger to get it, but only I knew the combination to the lock. I was back in a minute.

Now that it came down to it Regina and I didn't know what to do. Neither of us had ever tied up a boy before. We looked at each other and giggled nervously. I was glad that Regina was there with me. I don't think I would have had the courage to do this by myself. I could sense that Regina felt the same way. Alone, we were a couple of girls, afraid. Together we were a couple of women, confident.

Our first attempt at bondage was neither elegant nor effective. With a lot of assistance from our somewhat willing victim, we essentially lashed his arms to the bolster. He could actually do a sit up in this position, though it was very clumsy for him to do so. If he wanted to, he could have wiggled his arms out. Nonetheless, it was a victory for us girls.

The whole affair must have taken about a half hour, but the delay didn't dampen our playful spirits although it seemed to dampen something else for me.

We sat, somewhat tired from our efforts, and sighed. "Now where were we?" I asked.

"I think you were up to his armpits," Regina suggested. "I'll start at his ankles."

We rubbed our feet up and down, tickling him, and teasing him. His penis stood straight up from his body. There was hardly a time since this trip began that he wasn't erected.

Eventually we concentrated our efforts on his genitals. I gently batted his balls with my toes. There were a couple of times I might have been too aggressive as he'd tighten up, wince and groan. As much fun as it was to have control over Roger this way, I didn't want to hurt him.

I read about girls enjoying inflicting pain on a boy, but that wasn't the part of this exercise that excited me. Many of the readings indicated that there's a fine line between pain and pleasure for some boys, and I experimented with my toe flicks and toe kicks to find that line and stay on the side I wanted.

Regina took a more direct approach. She was running her toes up and down the shaft of his organ. Occasionally, she'd grab the shaft between two toes with one foot, and try to grab the head with her other foot between her big toe and the one next to it, only to have it slip out.

I was suddenly reminded of a game we used to play when I was a little girl in this very lake. We'd divide up into two teams (usually boys against the girls) One of the adults would cover a watermelon with cooking grease and throw it in the water. The team that got the watermelon ashore on "their" side of the small beach, won. The girls always won. Not only were we slightly older, and therefore bigger and stronger at that age, we also knew how to cooperate. We'd pass the watermelon to another girl whenever all the boys converged on the one of us who was carrying it.

We also knew how to handle it better. Being big, hard, round and slippery, you couldn't squeeze it too hard, or it would squirt out. That's exactly the problem Regina was having with Roger's penis!

She quickly figured it out and changed tactics. She moved the foot holding the shaft up so she was grasping his penis just below his head. She used the big toe on her other foot to trace a circle around and around and around the head of his organ.

Roger started to pant and buck. I looked at his face. I had seen that look before. "Go girl!" I encouraged. Regina gave his penis a few more quick flicks with her toe. Up sprouted Roger's first blast of ejaculate. Regina had the presence of mind to make a quick loop with her toe again.

"I can feel it!" she exclaimed. Roger gushed again. "I can feel him pump and squirt!" He established a rhythm to his pumping and Regina fell into it immediately. She managed to make one circle of his organ between every one of his squirts.

I was impressed by how high Roger was able to arc his sperm shots. I know it really didn't take all that long, but it seemed like it was all in slow motion to me. I watched as the first shot rose explosively out of the head of his organ. I was reminded of a National Geographic film in which I saw on volcanic eruptions. Hot magma being heaved skyward with great force, slowing as gravity pulled it, reversing direction and eventually splashing onto earth.

The physics of this eruption were exactly the same, and so were some of the results. I was surprised at how hot his come was as it splashed about my feet. It was much hotter than body temperature should be.

It was my first true contact with sperm, and although I always thought of it as a dirty, disgusting liquid to be avoided at any cost, I was surprised how nice it felt on my feet. There was something very primitive at work here. Sperm was what made a man a man. It was how he passed what he was onto future generations.

A boy should guard his sperm as being sacred. Yet, Roger tossed it carelessly in my dorm room simply because I asked him to do it. Now it was being taken from him against his will. There was something more significant to this than merely masturbating a boy. There was more to it than just having power over him. This was taking his very essence from him, and have him deposit it at the most humblest part of my body.

Then again, maybe I was reading too many of the books on Frankie's list. It was fun just simply making him come.

I felt very dirty and naughty wiggling my toes in his ejaculate. Maybe I am too much a nice girl in spite of my dominatrix tendencies. I've always been a good girl, doing the proper thing. It felt good to break a rule once and a while even if I didn't know quite which rule was being broken.

I broke out of my private thoughts long enough to look at Regina. She was wasted! "What have you been drinking girl?" I asked.

"Oh, don't mind me," she gasped. "I get this way when something like this happens."

All the while, our prey, Roger, lay there silently in post-coital bliss. I would soon change that!

I moved my foot up to his face and started rubbing and smearing his own come over it. "Lick this stuff off my feet!" I commanded. "Look at the mess you made. Clean it up."

Roger licked eagerly at my feet, and I felt like a queen. Feet might be a fetish zone for boys, but it was getting to me too. I never really thought much of my feet - for me, that is. I knew what affect they had on some boys, but it simply wasn't a part of my body that I ever thought would feel good being touched.

It wasn't so much a sexual thing - heck nothing with Roger was really sexual in spite of the overt use of his reproductive organs. The relationship was one of power, and one in which sexual servitude was merely one manifestation of the power exchange.

I liked the feeling for its pure and simple sensuality.

"Hey, stop hogging the good parts," Regina chided.

I laughed and let her get her feet into his face as well. We eventually decided to alternate between his mouth and his midsection. As soon as he cleaned the come off one of our feet, we'd have another fresh load to feed him.

His come had dried to a caked, tacky mess by the time we tired of this game.

"How are we going to clean all this up," Regina admitted expressing the thought all of us had.

"Last one in the lake is a rotten egg!" I proclaimed.

end of female domination, femdom story