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In the aftermath of their sex, Tim was drunk with a mixed feeling of lust, shame, humiliation, and desire. Sliding on the pink bra further complicated his feelings: the shame of being symbolically reduced by this young woman to the status of a weak girl and the thrill of succumbing to her desires. Sarah watched him with a satisfied and predatory look as he pulled the bra over his small boy tits. She noticed his slight, pale frame and thought about how every part of his physical being signified passive docility. Tim averted his eyes from her gaze, instead staring down at his small cleavage in the delicate bra.
His passivity ignited a furious desire in her to dominate him and she pulled him into her grasp, surrounding him with her strong arms. She lunged at his mouth and bit his lip, not extremely hard, but hard enough for him to whimper. Yet he knew enough not to pull away. He was broken and was ready to succumb to any humiliation she desired to put him through.
She pulled back and looked into his eyes and she noticed a small bruise on his lip where she had bit. She caressed it with her hand. It gave his lip a sexy fullness that made her want to dominate him more.
“Ow..”
“I’m sorry baby. But you look so hot, so in need of someone to fuck you.”
Earlier that night she had thought that they were exactly the same height but she now realized he had been wearing his running shoes and she was barefoot. Standing eye to eye now, she realized that she was about 1″ taller. She stood up completely straight, uncurling her spine, stretching her neck and legs as her wrestling coach had taught her as a means of intimidating her opponent. When she did this she was 2″ taller than him. She looked down into his eyes and, again, the desire to dominate him was hard to repress.
“I didn’t realize that I’m taller than you,” she said as she used her hand to demonstrate the difference in their heights. “It feels so right. And you know I’m still growing.”
He looked up into her eyes with a soft, pleading look.
“Imagine, what it’ll be like next summer. You’ll be even more my girl, small and weak. Maybe you’ll just come up to my tits. Maybe you’ll have to look up to my nipples to kiss them. I love how small and soft you are. I wish all boys were like you.”
Like her, he was pulled between the desire to scream for her to fuck him again and the humiliation of his desire to ask this young amazon to rape him again.
“Well you made me put this on” he said, gesturing to the bra.
“I did. And I was right to do so. It looks so good on you baby.” She put her hand up to his tit and caressed it gently. “You were made to wear soft, delicate things like this.”
He looked up and her there was pleading in his eyes.
“But, baby, I need to get ready for the party,” she said abruptly, as she pulled her hand away. “Can you clean all this up?” she asked him.
He was surprised at the sudden turn in her attitude and her dismissal of him.
“But, I… I thought…” he said, pleadingly.
“Baby. This can’t go on forever. I have to get cleaned up before the party and, technically, you’re still on the clock. We paid you so please, clean this up.”
“I didn’t know you were going to that party.” Tim mentioned, remembering how much he’d wished he had been invited.
“Oh sure, they practically begged me to come. I promised I’d make an appearance.”
She paused.
“Well, you better get cleaning up sweetie.”
“But, Sarah, these are your dishes and you made some of this mess.”
She stared at him with a look of cold impatience.
“Do you want to make daddy angry at you? Or do you want to please daddy?”
“Sarah, I”
“What’s my name to you?”
She paused, staring straight at him: “Don’t make me have to show you again.”
“Daddy.”
“That’s right, Tim. Now, do you want to please daddy?”
“Y–yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, daddy.”
She placed her hand back on his breast.
“Good girl.”
“Daddy, can I at least take off this bra?” he asked
“Of course not. Daddy likes you in it. Now show daddy you’re a good girl and clean up this mess.” And she turned on her heel and began to head upstairs.
“But…but… your Mom. She’ll be home soon.”
She didn’t stop but simply shouted, “Well then you’d better hurry up” as she headed upstairs.
Tim was totally shocked and was reflecting on what happened as he slid his pants back on. He couldn’t find his t-shirt so was cleaning up in his tight white khakis and a pink bra. The realization of what had just transpired came rushing into his head as the fog of arousal left him. He had just been pinned, fucked, and feminized by this young amazon and after all that she made him wear a bra and clean her house while she got ready to go to a party that he hadn’t been invited to. At one point he caught a glimpse of himself in a hallway mirror and thought, from the right angle he could be confused for a young wife, subserviently cleaning up her husband’s bakırköy escort dinner. His thin legs and girlish arms, the pink bra straps on his shoulders, his lip looked slightly full where she had bit him — he looked like someone’s timid, submissive, yet content wife.
He replayed the scenes of what had occurred over and over in his brain as he cleaned her dishes, wiped the table, and picked up the clothes she had discarded. He was so lost in his own thoughts and confusion that he didn’t hear the door open or notice Ms. Patterson walk into the kitchen. He was shocked out of his recollections when he heard her say “Oh, my.”
He shouted with surprise and looked into the doorway between the hall and the kitchen. Tim’s recollection of Karen Patterson was fuzzy but he did have a general memory of an attractive woman next door: an older, sexy woman who many of the men on the street lusted over. She had been the object of some neighbourhood gossip after her husband had suddenly left years ago.
But his memory didn’t prepare him for the beautiful, older woman that stood in the doorway now. She had to be 6′ tall and in her black heels was easily 6’2 or 6’3. She had short black hair cut in a bob, a square jawline, and an attractive face that looked much younger than her years. She was wearing a tight black dress that revealed large breasts and a very fit body. The dress was cut halfway up her thighs which looked tanned, powerful and sexy. Her arms had the strong definition and sinewy strength of someone who made yoga and weights a regular part of her life. She crossed them under her DD breasts, pushing them her breasts in a provocative erotic way. For a woman in her mid 40s, she was absolutely stunning.
Tim cowered in her presence, unsure of what to say or do, almost unable to speak.
“It’s OK, Tim. It’s OK,” she said, surveying his thin body. “I guess you and Sarah got to know each other.”
“I’m… I’m sorry… it just. I don’t know.”
“Tim, it’s OK. Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong.”
Tim’s eyes darted around the room looking for a shirt or something to cover himself but found nothing. He looked back at Karen who had now moved into the kitchen close to him. She smiled at him and sat down at the head of the table.
“Tim, sit down.”
“Ms. Patterson, I don’t… we just… I swear…”
“Tim, it’s fine. Sit down next to me.”
Still lost in a daze of confusion and humiliation, he sat in the chair and looked into her eyes.
“Tim, I suspected something like this might happen. In fact, I’m partially to blame. As Sarah was growing up and becoming a young woman, she mentioned the feeling she had when you two wrestled when you were younger. It stuck with her, Tim — that feeling of being helpless and overpowered. It’s a common experience women have and I promised my daughters would never feel like that again. They were my daughters, after all, so why should I let a man conquer them? I helped her channel that feeling of humiliation into a desire to succeed, a desire to be the one on top, to never be dominated by a man ever again.”
“You did?”
“Yes. You see, women have been controlled by men for so many years, men have ordered us around, controlled us financially, physically, and mentally for years. I lived in a world like that for so long and I didn’t want my daughters to experience the same thing. Society tells us to be weak and yielding but, Tim, look at me and ask yourself: why should I let a man control me?”
Tim looked up at her: a combination of beauty, strength, sexuality, and intelligence. Her round shoulders, arms betraying their strength even in their relaxed state. Her nipples were poking through her black dress and he could see the outlines of her substantial breasts in her dress. Despite begin ravaged by her daughter less than an hour ago, Tim felt the stirrings of sexual desire arise again.
“So I helped Sarah see her power, her ability to refuse being controlled, to take the man’s position and reverse the situation. I insisted that she start strength training from an early age. I helped her develop a regime to turn her into the woman she is today. My goal was to raise a young woman who would never be controlled by a man but who would bend men to her will, physically and intellectually.”
“I helped her see a group of men hiding behind the shield of their masculinity: smaller men, men intimidated by women like me, men willing to take orders. Her babysitters have always been small men so she got used to having power over them.”
“I have to admit, Tim, that when I asked you to babysit, I thought one of the added benefits would be that Sarah might be able to finally reverse roles with you and overcome that memory of being dominated. Seeing how much stronger she was than you, seeing you take care of a child and cook dinner while she was at wrestling practice would confirm for her how weak you are. It would dispel any notions about men being on top and her needing to submit bahçelievler escort to any man, let alone, you.” She stopped for a second and looked down at his chest. “Of course, I didn’t know it would end up with you in her old bra, but I guess that’s just nature taking its course.”
Tim had forgotten for a second that he was wearing Sarah’s old bra and moved his arms to cover his chest in embarrassment. “I swear, things just got out of hand!” he stammered,
“Oh don’t be embarrassed, Tim,” Karen said as she placed a gentle hand on his arm. He could feel the strength in her grip even in her light touch.
“Honey, you don’t need to be embarrassed. It’s absolutely fine to be the way you are. Like I said, it’s your nature and it’s hers. You’re both finding out who you really are. It’s a good thing that things are changing after hundreds of years of men have been trying to tell women like me that they should be subservient and submissive.” She paused and pulled the arm of her dress. She looked at Tim deeply in her eyes as she flexed her bicep.
The expansion of muscle from her arm was incredible: her bicep was easily as big as Sarah’s and fuller — a rounded, strong arm that retained its feminine smoothness. She was an amazon goddess.
With her other hand still draped over his arm she asked, “Do I look like I should be subservient and submissive?”
“N— no.” Tim stammered.
“Exactly. But for so many years, society told us that men like you should dominate and control women like me, that because you have a penis I should lie prostrate in front of you, follow your commands, and accept you as my master.” She pulled her dress sleeve back down.
“That was what my first husband believed and at first I tried to play along. I’d lie under him, knowing that something wasn’t right, and try to follow the rules of traditional gender norms as he weakly tried to make love to me. He was shorter than me and even before I started working out, I was stronger than him. Then I took a weights class, then I started lifting weights every night, and eventually it was laughable how much weaker he was than me. Eventually, one night, I flipped him on his back, put my hand around his neck, and…”
She looked at Tim, “Sorry, maybe that’s a little explicit. Needless to say, he loved it and begged for more but, ultimately, he couldn’t handle it. Once I had physically dominated him in bed, he couldn’t deal with it. He left one day while I was at work. Good riddance to weak men.”
“What happened to him?”
“Who cares? The point, Tim, is that he lived in a bubble of fake male bravado. He couldn’t handle the reality of the world.”
“What’s that?”
She smiled. “The reality is that women are becoming stronger, Tim. We are becoming the leaders, the ones who wear the pants in our relationships, because we can. Look at colleges today: they’re filled with young women fulfilling their potential while their boyfriends play video games in their basement and watch porn on the internet. Let the little boys have their distractions while we earn business degrees, take supplements, take pilates, crossfit, and karate. When those young women come home from a long day of work, their boy has their dinner ready for them, and you’d better believe that when they’re fucking those same boyfriends, they’re the ones on top.”
She paused, allowing her words to sink into Tim’s mind. “Did you serve Sarah her meal tonight when she came home?” she asked with a wink.
“Not every man will love it, watching their wives and girlfriends become physically stronger — starting with jogging and yoga and ending with crossfit and weight lifting, going from housewives to lawyers and business women. But the men who do will find great pleasure in submitting to a strong woman’s physical strength and sexuality. It’s an erotic thrill and it takes the burden off of those weak men: submit to us and let us make the decisions for you. In many way this is just the next step in women’s liberation. Men’s too.”
She stroked his arm and said “You’re lucky in a way, Tim. You are just explicitly getting to experience what a lot of men implicitly feel: that the power in the world has shifted to women and that we are gradually taking your place. Embrace it, honey. Learn to love it.”
Tim stared at this amazonian woman and was awash in confusion and desire. Her dress had hiked up and he could see her full, strong thighs. He longed to touch them, to lick them. Her neck was pronounced and strong, with veins on either side that indicated her focus and intensity. He felt very small and weak in her dominating presence.
“We live in a new and evolving world, Tim. A world where people can express their sexuality and their identity in so many ways. This is just one of those ways. The voices inside your head telling you resist a woman’s dominating power are the voices of a dying patriarchy. Accept your submissive role in this new world.”
Tim was confused with the şirinevler escort very calm and serious way in which she explained away what had happened to him. “But I’m not sure I want this.”
She laughed and looked at him with amusement. “Oh, Tim. Don’t deny yourself this pleasure. You’re sitting in my living room wearing a pink bra that my daughter made you wear, cleaning our kitchen because, I’m guessing, she told you too. You served her dinner and hovered in her presence like a good little wife. Your nipples are rock hard and you’re hanging on my every word like a kitten lapping up milk. It’s clear to me that you want to submit. Ignore those voices in your head and listen to your body, Tim.”
Tim looked dreamily into the eyes of this persuasive and dominating woman.
“Let’s try an experiment, Tim” said Karen and she pulled out her phone and began searching and scrolling. “Take a look at these women and tell me if that’s your idea of a fantasy woman.” She slid the phone across the table to him and he picked it up. On the screen were fashion models from the 1970s and 1980s, waifishly thin, heroin chic, all in awkward poses that expressed weakness and submission. Their arms and legs were rail thin and they had small, girlish breasts. Tim scrolled, looking at woman after woman with boyish figures, pale faces, blown out hair, and red lips.
“What do you think, Tim? If they showed up at your door, begging to be fucked. Be honest. Do they do it for you. Do you lust after them?”
He looked up at her and said honestly, “No, not really.”
“OK, let’s try this then. Stand next to me please.”
She stood up from the table and moved to the middle of the kitchen. Tim watched her calves pulse as she walked in her heels and he was again struck by her feline grace and animal strength. He stood and walked next to her and was physically impressed by her height and the width of her back. Her body was powerful and feminine with a strong upper body tapering into a tight, sexy waist and a pronounced, round, firm ass. She had to be at least 6″ taller than him in her heels and he was eye to eye with her nipples, protruding from her sexy black dress. She absolutely towered over him and the difference in their sizes was intoxicating. He could almost feel her strength emanating and surrounding his weaker body. She looked down at him for a few seconds with an imperious gaze.
She turned so that he was facing her back.
“Unzip me please.”
His hands were shaking but he reached up and pulled down the gold zipper on the back of her dress. As he did, her dress parted revealing a back knotted with muscle and the straps of her red, silk bra. Her every movement would make her strong back dance and he was staring directly into her the wall of muscles. He zipped her all the way down and the dress fell to the ground, revealing her round, firm ass in a pair of matching red panties.
“What do you think, Tim?”
Karen flexed her arms and Tim was overwhelmed with a wave of sexual euphoria. Her round ass was the only soft thing about her. Her back was a wall of strength, her arms popped with muscles and her shoulders were rock solid. Muscles spread out along her lats and in her neck — she was positively huge but without losing her feminine figure. His penis jumped to full attention, making a significant outline in his pants. He had to stop himself from leaning in and kissing and worshiping her incredible body. He was shaking with lust.
Karen turned around slowly, still flexing her biceps. He was eye to eye with her large breasts, held in place by the red bra, and he kept looking between the gigantic muscles and her tits. Even her pussy, covered in the red panties, looked full and powerful. He had a desire to sink to his knees and worship her with his tongue.
“I said, what do you think, Tim?” she said in a sultry voice.
He looked into her eyes and felt tiny next to her. Her strength, her sexuality, her reasoning all confirmed her dominance over him.
“Who do you feel more attracted to, Tim? The women in the magazine, or me?”
“I… I want you.” He stammered, barely able to speak.
“I know Tim.” She stopped flexing, cupped his chin in her hand and raised his head so that he was staring directly into her eyes.
“You feel it in your body, don’t you? The desire to submit to a woman like me. Society has told you that you need to be powerful, to dominate me, but look at you. You don’t want to fuck the women in those magazines, you are the women in the magazine. You don’t want to fuck at all. You want to be fucked by a woman like me. Someone who can wrestle you, have their way with you, and then tell you to clean the house er like a good girl. Isn’t that right?”
Her other hand reached down for Tim’s throbbing cock and grabbed it through his pants. He was melting in her grasp.
“Yes, Karen” he whispered. “Yes.”
“I know, Tim. Maybe that can be your summer job. You can be our little house girl. You can take care of the cooking and the cleaning, preparing meals for us, take care of us, and in return I’ll pay you and fuck you. Train you to be a good little housewife. Would you like that Tim?” Her voice had changed from one of rational, calming explanation to one underlined with lust and desire. She was as turned on by this as he was.
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