*****Spoiler Alert: This doesn’t end well for the man. Or does it? Either way, this is a completely fictional story depicting non-consentual sex. Enjoy!*******
“I wanna hear you whimper,” she breathed into my ear.
Oh god, I thought. How do I get out of this?!
A couple of hours earlier, I had finally built up the courage to go to a bar for the first time. I was in my late 20s, single, and never had much luck with dating.
This was mostly due to the fact that I was kind of short and very socially awkward. Naturally, my online dating profiles always fell flat. No hits. No messages.
In my mind, I always kind of viewed the bar as my last resort, but I was naively optimistic that if I just showed up there’d have to be at least one lonely girl who would take interest in me.
Especially if I looked different than the other guys. Never having been in a bar, I assumed it would be full of big buff biker guys who’d probably try and pick a fight with me.
My plan was to find a booth in the corner, order a beer (which I’d nurse all night since I didn’t drink) and pull out a novel and read. You know, so I’d stand out. Look like the intellectual I so clearly was.
So, I looked up local bars on my phone, found one called “Thirsty’s Holler” that didn’t look too bad, and headed that way.
Thirsty’s turned out to be pretty busy on this Friday night. Go figure. All the booths were taken, and the only place I could find to sit was right up front at the bar in plain view of everybody.
Having really only seen the inside of a bar on TV and in movies, I expected the place to be dimly lit with lots of shadowy places to kind of hide out.
The booth areas were darker, but the bar was pretty well lit. I really didn’t want to be the center of attention, so naturally my social anxiety was raging.
I only processed all this after having already walked in the place though, so people were already looking my way curiously.
Despite every instinct telling me to turn tail and run the hell out of there, I nervously walked up to the bar and took a seat.
The bartender was a clean-cut friendly young guy who introduced himself as Andy. Even talking just briefly with him as I ordered my beer helped ease my tension a little.
But the moment he went to help others, I felt super awkward and uncomfortable. The beer tasted horrible (I wasn’t a drinker), and I spent most of the next painful moments trying to mull up the willpower to choke down another sip.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get anymore uncomfortable, I remembered my book. I wasn’t sure how much I’d have to read before I met a girl, so I had packed a particularly thick novel, Stephen King’s IT.
I pulled the bulky book out from my jacket pocket, flipped it open, and proceeded to read.
Almost immediately, my concentration was broken by the sound of laughter. Now, don’t get me wrong. Thirsty’s Holler was packed and more than a little rowdy. But my social anxiety was so keyed up at this point that it was almost like a sixth sense, and I knew someone was watching me.
I looked down the bar, past several couples who were involved in their own personal chatter, at first seeing no one that seemed to be paying me the least bit of attention.
And then, I saw her. I didn’t notice her at first because she was at the very end of the bar and on the serving side, just kind of leaning against the wall there where it was a little darker.
I knew it was her because she was still smirking my way. She was a bigger, busty woman with a short black fishnet dress that was stretched to the max over her chubby curves, a lurid red bikini peeking out from underneath.
Her hair was long and black, full of curls. And she was eyeing me with glee, taking great pleasure in my nervous state.
When she saw I was looking her way, she held my gaze for a second, the smile on her face slowly replaced with a look of….. disgust? She shook her head and walked away further behind the counter.
I felt suddenly pathetic. What the hell was I doing here? I’d never even been to a bar before, and I had no idea how to act now that I was here. Feeling like the loneliest guy in the world, I proceeded to bury myself in my book.
I got nearly 20 pages in when there was a tap on my shoulder. I looked up to see a tall guy with a flannel shirt and a cowboy hat standing over me.
He was leering down at me with a shit-eaten grin on his face as he said, “Can I buy you a drink, sweetie?”
I dropped my book, about toppled my drink over. There was a sudden uproar of laughter from all sides of the bar. God, was EVERYONE watching me?!
The cowboy slapped my arm though, laughing himself. “That’s okay little guy,” he said. “Sheila there just wanted me to find out if you were gay or not.”
I looked behind the bar, and the big girl was there, sipping on a drink through a straw and staring at me with a devilish grin. My face turned beet red.
“Well? Are you?” the cowboy asked. “We kinda have a bet going….”
I shook my head. “N-n-no!” I stammered.
“Well shit,” the cowboy said, stomping back to his table. This was followed by more uproarious laughter from around the room.
“Sorry, I just had to be sure.” It was Sheila, the girl behind the bar. “I mean, you come to a bar, but you’re dressed like you’re at church. And you come here to….read?”
God, I felt stupid! My face flushed again, and I tried to stammer out some excuse to explain why I was here other than that I was just kind of hoping a girl would fall into my lap.
Apparently the words came out wrong though because Sheila sneered at me, laughing harshly.
“You see!” she spat. “Now this is why it’s so hard to get laid today! You got guys like you with zero life skills running around thinking you’re men when really you’re just a toddler who thinks he can grace the world with his presence and girls will just fall out of a tree and land on your dick!”
Andy, the other, friendly bartender came over.
“Is there a problem here?” he asked, eyeing me warily.
“Classic example,” Sheila spat again. “Get back to fucking work Andy. Me and the boy are talking.”
Andy laughed it off like it was a big joke and walked back to his other customers.
“Question. Do you hate all men, or just me and Andy?” There was a super awkward silence then, as I realized with horror that I had spoken the thought out loud.
Sheila laughed loudly at the remark though and leaned over the bar, resting her huge breasts on the counter so a deep line of cleavage pulled my eyes in like harpies luring sailors to their deaths.
She saw me staring, naturally, and whispered to me in a soft, low voice. “You think you can handle all this?”
I stammered, but there were no words and then, suddenly, Sheila was laughing at me again, mocking my social inadequacy.
“Toddlers!” she spat, and walked away to do some work behind the bar.
In her wake, I stared at my mug of beer wondering how to occupy myself further. There was obviously no going back to my book. And the beer was warm now, practically undrinkable.
Before I could ponder it too much though, Andy came over with a bright pink drink, a lime hanging off the side of the glass.
“What’s this?” I asked.
Andy looked at me apologetically. “It’s from Sheila. A cosmopolitan. She thinks it’s more your style of drink.”
I looked down the bar at her, and she was laughing at me and making a gesture, motioning for me to drink.
I found it in myself to glare at her, but curious to see what it tasted like, I took a sip. It was surprisingly, a lot better tasting. Andy gave me a nod and took the beer away.
I proceeded to finish the drink, being careful not to meet Sheila’s gaze and let on that I was enjoying it.
Pretty soon, Andy was back with another drink and a bowl full of fruit floating in what I could only presume was alcohol.
Again, he looked apologetic almost. “From Sheila,” he said.
I picked at the fruit as I sipped on the drink, not really intending to eat too much at first. But the more I ate, the more I craved. And soon I was to the bottom of the bowl.
I felt funny, had kind of lost track of time, but was pretty sure I needed to get going. I stood up to leave and my head swam. My legs started swaying and buckling. I sat back down. Hard.
“Having trouble my little toddler?” Sheila had come back, was smirking at me devilishly.
“I need to go home,” I tried to say, but my words were slurred, messy.
Sheila gave Andy a glance. “We’ve got another boy who can’t handle his liquor…..” she said.
Andy looked at her questioningly. “You want me to call him a cab?”
She spat at him. “Does he look like he can pay?!”
I raised my hand, half expecting someone to call on me to speak. Sheila looked at me with dull eyes.
“Really?” she said.
“I was just going to say, I don’t need a cab. I’m only a couple blocks away.” Not sure how much of that came out in intelligible speech, I waited but Sheila seemed to get the point.
She turned to Andy. “I guess I could take him?”
Andy threw up his hands, not about to argue with her. “Do what you gotta do, I guess.”
Sheila cussed and threw a rag across the bar. “Well, call in one of the part-timers if you get behind.”
She came around the bar, right up next to me and promptly hugged me to her. It was so unexpected, suddenly being engulfed by this big beautiful woman that I kind of went limp at first.
“Jeez man!” she spat. “Work with me here!”
I quickly got my bearings, only leaning on her slightly now, and she begun escorting me out of the bar. We stepped out into the night, around the corner to the parking lot, her car.
It was a shiny black SUV. She opened the passenger door, practically pushed me inside. Went around to the other side, got in.
I was astounded by how heavy my head had gotten. My mind was spinning, and I felt dizzy. All this from two drinks and some fruit?!
“What’s your fucking address?” Sheila was glaring at me angrily and I realized she’d been asking me for a bit.
I fumbled for my wallet, practically threw it at her. “Sorry…” I mumbled.
She pulled out my license. Looked at it for a moment, began typing on her phone. Then, suddenly, we were driving.
The motion caused a tidal wave of nausea in my stomach and throat, but I held myself together, barely.
As if to echo my thoughts, Sheila said, “You’d better not fucking puke in my car!”
God, I didn’t want to puke in her car. So, I did the only alternative I could think of. Roll down the window and hurl as far from the vehicle as possible.
“GOD DAMMITTTT!” Sheila yelled, her shriek piercing my ears. “If any of that got on the side of my car, I swear to god I’m gonna kick your ass!”
We pulled into my driveway, and she killed the engine. Hopped out, ran over to my side of the SUV.
“JEEEZUS!” she yelled. Apparently, I’d splattered her car good. She ripped open my door, pulled me out and began practically dragging me to the front door.
Once there, she wrestled in my pockets for my keys, fumbled the door open and stumbled us inside.
Having just puked out some of the alcohol, and now being in the familiarity of my own home, I felt somewhat better. I made my way to the bathroom. Pissed. Used some mouthwash. Brushed my teeth.
When I came back in the living room, I was surprised to see Sheila was still there. She was sitting on my couch absolutely fuming.
“Hey, sorry about all that,” I said, surprised to find I could at least speak now.
Sheila looked up at me incredulously. “SORRY?” she spat. “SORRY?! You puked all over the side of my car!”
I knew I should feel bad about that, but all I could muster at the moment was a shrug of my shoulders.
“Sorry,” I said.
Sheila shook her head in disgust. “No. You’re not sorry. You’re gonna be sorry, but you’re not sorry yet.”
She looked at me coldly. “Get over here. Now.”
I hesitated.
Sheila seemed to think about what to do next. She pursed her lips. Forced a mischievous smile and said, “Come here, honey. I wanna give you something sweet.”
She motioned me forward with a slow, seductive wave of her finger. “Come here baby,” she said. “Come to momma.”
The smile touched her eyes now, and I couldn’t resist. I felt myself drawn to her with invisible chains.
She continued to beckon me with her finger, pulling me in. She reached for me, pulled me down to my knees so my head was level with her tits.
“I’ve got something for you, my little toddler,” she said. “Something I think you’ll like.”
Sheila pulled her fishnet dress up over her head so she was sitting there clothed only in her red bikini.
She then began to push her bottoms down. It was dark in my living room. My head was still spinning, but I tried desperately to see her down there.
Her big beautiful naked legs and thighs had me hypnotized, so I didn’t see it at first. When I did see what I think I saw, I swore it was just a product of my drunken mind.
I looked closer, got low so I could see it better.
“OH MY GOD! YOU’VE GOT A DICK!” I blurted out.
Sheila almost fell over laughing. “Yes, sweetie,” she said with gleaming eyes. “And I’m gonna feed it to you inch by delicious inch.”
I tried to scramble away, but Sheila pulled me in close to her, bringing her lips right up next to my ear.
“I wanna hear you whimper,” she breathed.
Oh my god, I thought. How do I get out of this?!
“Don’t worry baby,” Sheila cooed soothingly into my ear. I’ve been told it tastes sweet as pie.”
She grabbed both my ears then, pulled my mouth to her lady cock. I never even had a chance.
It was in my mouth, pushing in and out, and it definitely did NOT taste like pie!
“That’s it,” Sheila moaned. “Get it nice and hard for your momma.”
I tried to pull away again, but I was too drunk. Sheila responded by pulling her legs up, wrapping them around my backside.
She began humping upward in and out of my mouth while still pulling my head down with her hands.
Her lady meat pumped in and out of my mouth, sliding between my lips. There was nothing I could do but let her pleasure herself with my face.
“Mmmmmm, Mmmmmmmm, Mmmmmmmm, Yeahhhhh!” she began wailing.
Please don’t cum in my mouth, please don’t cum in my mouth, I chanted in my head.
As if in answer, she pulled her meat from my lips, pushed me backward.
I toppled over, landing on my back with a thud.
Sheila took the opportunity to slide down to the carpet. She undid my pants, yanked my clothes off, all before I could even sit up.
She grabbed my legs, pulled me in so my ass was right up to her crotch.
“Please don’t,” I begged.
Sheila looked at me hungrily. “That’s not quite a whimper, baby boy.”
She pulled my legs tight, lifted me slightly, resting my ass hole on the head of her cock.
“Please no!” I begged.
“Whimper,” she ordered coldly.
The head of her penis pushed at my hole, threatening to penetrate me.
I whimpered. Whimpered and whined. Pleading with her not to rape my hole.
Sheila practically cackled with glee, but to my horror she did not stop her assault on my ass.
Instead, she began gyrating her hips, working herself inside me.
“It’s too big!” I grunted
Sheila only laughter harder. “I know,” she said. “That’s the fucking point!”
She began actively pumping her meat in and out of me now. It hurt like hell, but she was only digging herself in deeper.
“Fucking take it,” she breathed. “Take momma’s sausage. Take it deep!”
I writhed my ass around, trying to make room for her, it hurt so bad. She only fucked me harder though, driving more and more of her meat into my hole.
At last, she was all the way in. Free to really give it to me, she began humping my ass as hard and fast as she could.
“Come on!” she urged me. “Make momma cum! Make me flood your asshole with cum!”
Her dirty talk was driving me over the edge, and I instinctively began jerking my own cock.
“That’s it,” she said. “Rub that little peter while Momma fucks you!”
She grabbed my legs even tighter, straight up beat my ass hole with her dick, pounding herself in and out of me, starting to completely lose control.
“OHHHHH! FUCK YESSSSSS!” she came suddenly, and I could literally feel her jizz screaming up my ass. I jerked my dick as fast and hard as I could, suddenly spraying my own cum high into the air.
Sheila grabbed my cock with both hands, held it like a gear stick, and began fucking her remaining cum into my ass.
“You like that, don’t you baby boy?” she taunted breathlessly. “You like that dick in your ass, don’t you?”
She held onto my dick long after we’d both gone soft, even after I felt her now flaccid lady meat depart my hole.
At some point, she removed her top. Her enormous breasts spilled out like so much heaven. She leaned over me, laid her naked body on top of mine, leaned in close, and whispered, “Do you think you can handle all this?”
God, I wanted to try.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/oqdejm/sheila_takes_her_man_femdom_nonconsent_shemale
Damn. That’s so very good.
I think that’s a very good idea.