Domme Deanna

Keith stumbled about indifferently in the living room, or “dance floor”. In his typical self destructive manner, he had attended a party full of “friends” whom he had hated utterly, just for a chance to get drunk. See, he was young: Still eighteen, and too young to buy liquor. He was frustrated with life, and with his situation. He was out of a job, had a year left of high school and was going nowhere in terms of grades or prospects. Suddenly, he felt a need too deep seeded and intuitive to ignore. He needed to get the hell out of there. He needed to wander. This was not entirely subversive to his initial plans, as he did get his alcohol. He barely felt the effects yet, as he had chugged it in a short and desperate manner, suddenly and all at once. He was done drinking before his body could process a drop of the stuff. Looking for the door, Keith said his hasty goodbyes to the happily indifferent people as they danced to their reggae.
He searched for the back door, rather than front. He wished to leave in his typical rogue like way, as he was a young man of weak entrances and solitary exits. Walking down to the basement, Keith found two wooden doors, and one had to be the exit. He opened the door to the right, but was surprised to see he had barged in on the hosts’ sister. All at once, the first stage of drunkenness had hit him like a sledgehammer. Standing there, dumbfounded, Keith stared foreword into the bedroom at the young woman. She was a bit older than the host, and vastly more attractive. Looking around twenty or twenty one, her back was facing Keith. She was about 5“7” or 5“8”, and very tanned. She had long, flowing back/brown hair which she was fixing into a pony, and it reached half way down her back. She was dressed comfortably and casually, in a plain white wife beater, and gray sweatpants. Her arms were beautifully formed, with a feminine softness and a masculine power. They were tanned and lightly muscled from her competitive, outdoor and tomboyish lifestyle. Her rear was perfect: It was big, but shapely and proportioned. It was a joy to stare at through her pants.
When the young woman turned around, Keith was caught entirely off guard. What was he to say in his drunken, awe struck stupor? He stood there a blushing, stuttering statue, incapable of finding the words to explain such an awkward situation. He wasn’t the type to barge into girl’s rooms and spy on them. However, he found he would not have to explain himself. She had a warm, inviting look on her face as she finished tying the pony, and sort of understood his alcoholic buzz.

“Come in. Lock the door.”, said the beautiful stranger.

Keith was willing to obey her only due to the social effects alcohol had on him. He became more outgoing, and vastly less shy around the opposite sex. However, still mostly in touch with reality, Keith was very nervous with the situation. He wasn’t used to being warmly greeted by such a woman. Sheepishly, he closed the door and slowly locked it, turning back to the woman, and was nearly distracted by her beauty and the aura of freedom she emitted. She looked comfortable and relaxed, not even worrying enough to put a bra on her large breasts, letting them hang free under her wife beater while around the house.

“What’s up? Who are you?”, she asked with a definite degree of curiosity.

“Name’s Keith”, he said. “I took a wrong turn trying to leave”, he added.

“Oh god, I don’t blame you. My sister throws the dumbest fucking parties… Has a buncha little fucking kids drink some beer and listen to shitty music.”

“I know. I just came here to get trashed. It’s kind of messed up that I was using her for drinks, but I just saw a bunch of people acting like children and drinking to feel like they were bad. Turned my fucking stomach.”

“I know. Now you know why I live in the basement. She pays half the rent but she makes all the noise.”

The two talked for a few minutes, the girl finally finding his name and giving him hers: Deanna. They talked for a while, and as Keith’s buzz started dipping into real drunkenness, he relaxed fully. Eventually, the two sat on her bed, just talking. Deanna was interested in Keith, as he sparked something inside her that had been buried for a very long time, maybe forever. He was only about 5”5” or 5”6” and skinny. He was pale and weak, dressed in a plain black shirt and pants. He made her laugh, and was not overly obsessed with his masculinity. The feeling inside her got stronger and stronger when she was with him. She still didn’t know exactly what this feeling was, but she knew she liked it. As for Keith, his growing drunkenness made him ever more open and uninhibited in his speech, until he and Deanna were utterly comfortable with each other. Finally, she threw her long legs over to him playfully, landing her feet on his lap.

“Rub my feet”, said Deanna who herself was now drunk- Drunk with that unknown feeling that was taking hold of her.

Keith was extremely comfortable with this request, which he had almost been wishing for. He gazed down at her feet. They rested so comfortably on his lap that he got a nearly instant erection. They weren’t noticeably large OR small, and Keith could scarcely describe what he loved about them. Truly beautiful feet he thought were something that were beyond description. They were something one just had to see to understand. With two hands, he embraced first the left foot. He’d rarely ever given a foot rub, but it came very natural for him. He simply had a feel for where to squeeze and how hard to do it. Rubbing her incredible, soft foot gave him a great sense of servitude, purpose and satisfaction. He switched to the right, and then back to the left. Keith went on like this for several minutes.
The entire time, Deanna was enjoying herself tremendously. It was as though she’d hit some sort of lucky break, and she was by now just lying down with her eyes facing the ceiling. She was still filled with that mysterious feeling, and it was getting stronger. She didn’t quite know what separated him from other guys, until she felt a warm, soft feeling on the top of her left foot: It was his lips meeting her foot slowly and cautiously, but with great respect. All at once, the mystery was solved: What made this guy different was his willingness to submit where other men dominated; To respect and serve where others had gotten what they wanted and left. She was filled with a new kind of arousal: She was drunk with power.

“mmmmmmmm, kiss my feet more”, ordered Deanna.

“Yes, Ma’am”, replied Keith, who obeyed.

His direct, submissive response coupled with more slow, passionate kisses aroused her even further. He proceeded to kiss every toe, and then he licked each foot slowly, from the top of the toes to the base of her ankle. He licked like this more times than either of them could count. He was slow and methodical- not fast and messy. He finally picked up her feet one by one, and sucked each toe slowly and intensely, and then he put them down. By now, Deanna was very excited. Her clitoris had swelled slightly in size, and she was getting extremely wet. Sweaty and breathing heavily, she beckoned him toward her. He crawled forth obediently, and with a sudden throw of her arm, she grabbed him by the shirt, and pulled him on top of her. Her legs locked around his back and entrapped him before he could know what was happening, and her teeth set another trap: One for his bottom lip.

Stunned and scared, Keith remained on top of her, paralyzed. His response to her hard, pressured bite against his soft lip was delayed and to an extent numbed, due to his progressing drunkenness. When he did feel it though, he began to pant. When she only increased the pressure, his panting quickly turned to screams, and he tried to escape. When he struggled, her legs clamped down, crushing his ribs and rendering him unable to so much as scream. Finally, he learned to stay still, emitting but whimpers as she broke his bottom lip and released the pressure from her legs in response to his good behavior. Finally, her teeth released his lip, and she began to suck the blood that leaked out of it, passionately and with heavy suction.

There was a moment of calm between them after she had feasted , which was interrupted only by the occasional blood drop falling from his mouth to her face. They stared into each others’ eyes, and the predator studied her prey. He was a quivering, terrified creature, with a submissive, helpless look on his face. Not yet satisfied fully from his torment, Deanna drew Keith closer and squeezed him with her legs once more. With an anaconda grip, she again paralyzed him in place, reducing his screams to gasps and then silence as she cut off his air supply and applied further pressure on his frail ribs. She kissed him softly and lovingly on his face and neck, mocking his pain and torment with tender care as his breath slipped away from him.

Releasing him, she felt a sense of pity as she saw the true damage she’d caused him. He collapsed with his head on her chest, gasping and begging, clutching her tightly. Perhaps she had exceeded what was reasonable in her power driven high. At once she regained her composure, becoming once more a feminine and sensitive creature. Deanna felt awful as she felt him clutch at her frantically, breathing deep. She laid him down, got on top of him and began taking off his shirt as he lay there, dazed, confused and at the peak of his drunkenness. She began playing with his “tits”, in a mockery of his manhood. She rubbed his chest, and began licking his right nipple slowly and lovingly. Her tongue did circles around it, until she began sucking. Thrilled at his openness and willingness to switch traditional roles, Deanna became fixated on his little pink nipples.

Eventually however, her sadistic side reemerged. She was disgusted at the notion that she was pleasing another stupid, self centered, lazy man- even if it appeared he was acting like a “submissive”. She stopped sucking, and started nibbling on his nipples. Believing at first that this was light foreplay, Keith thought absolutely nothing of it. Eventually, however the nibbles got harder and harder. At his gasps and yelps, she responded with more and more force, until he was screaming and trying to push her away. Deanna slapped him across the face and pinned him down, holding his neck with her arm and biting the little nipple harder and harder, with steady pressure. There was some blood, and Keith screamed louder than ever. In a fit of strength discovered through horrible pain, he kneed her in the stomach. Suddenly, she fell on top of him, in pain. Keith may have been totally drunk, but he understood what he had just done, and he understood the implications.

“I’m so sorry!”, explained Keith over and over in his nervous attempt at a soft voice.

Holding her stomach, Deanna was temporarily stunned, and could not speak.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you okay? Are you okay?”, asked Keith as he trailed on and on apologizing.

Eventually, Deanna regained herself and stared at Keith with a look of frustration. Grabbing him, she threw him off the bed and onto the floor. He was shirtless, with bloody bites in several places, and red rashes all over his ribs. He had really taken a far heavier beating than she, but what he did still felt like a sacrilege. Before long, she was standing directly over him. From his view, he could see the wet spot on the crotch of her casual gray sweatpants: The one that had grown from a single drop to a puddle- But even more noticeable to him was the sick look on her face: He was right where she wanted him. After staring and smirking for a time, her face tensed up angrily and she stomped him right in his stomach- the same region where she had been kneed. It felt absolutely horrible and he gasped, nearly vomiting, Liking the reaction, she set all her weight on him by standing with both her feet. She began trampling his stomach, chest, and especially groin.

The pain in Keith’s balls was enormous as she jumped up and down, and on more than one occasion, they nearly burst. Just when he thought it’d never end though, Deanna stopped. She simply stood over him, gazing down. As he lay there, making faces from the pain, she slid her hand slowly down her comfortable gray sweatpants, and began rubbing her slimy, wet cunt. She rubbed slowly at first, highly content with herself, with her position and with his position. Looking down at him was just too much for her to bare though- his agonized squirming! It was fuel for her fire. Sweating from every pore in her body, the speed of her masturbation increased, and in his silent squirming, she could hear only her heartbeat. Blood pumped through her faster and faster, gorging her little clitoris and filling her vaginal lips. Her pussy was so hot- so sweaty and so unfulfilled that she couldn’t take it. Throwing off her pants quickly, she squatted over him, thrusting her hot, wet groin in his face.

Deanna was not facing his legs, as she’d thrown the FRONT of her body onto his face. Keith was again stunned at the bluntness, passion and rawness of the situation. All of the sudden, when nursing his balls’ wounds, he had been enveloped by this hungry, passionate, powerful thing. He felt a genuine sexual and physical intimidation- daunted by her horny and crazed state, and had no choice but to do what he really wanted to do anyway: Appease the creature. When her gooey, messy pussy began sliding up and down his face, he knew she was beyond ready, and that she meant business. He knew he’d absolutely have to please her. Licking at moderate speed but heavy force, he tried successfully to maintain the rhythm set by her thrusting. He breathed at every opportunity, his world reduced to a wall of powerful, arousing odors and delicious juices, with a good deal of oxygen deprivation. Occasionally, Deanna would squat, hovering over him, tugging his hair and demanding faster licking. This was probably her way of letting the poor guy breathe, as she far proffered the up close, thrusting and grinding approach.

At once she sat still, lost control, pushed all her weight to his mouth, and laid her trembling arms on the floor as she came. It was a rush like she had never experienced- she screamed into the air as his tongue finished her. Feeling the immense quivering of her vaginal area and hearing the noise, added to a sort of instinct let Keith know he had finished her off. Deanna sat atop his face, leaning forward and with her arms on the floor in the position of her climax for a good thirty seconds. Suddenly, springing up, she picked up her pants and ran to the bed, signaling Keith to hide. He ran to the closet and closed himself in, with but a peeping view- and did this all at the exact moment when the door’s lock was picked open with a credit card. In came Deanna’s boyfriend, a big light skinned, blonde-haired football player type. Seeing her pantless and incredibly wet, he asked her playfully what was going on. She told him she’d gotten a little horny and started thinking about him. Aroused, the large young man threw her to her bed and quickly penetrated her, throwing her legs over his shoulders and thrusting wildly. She lay her arms and head back, helpless to his onslaught, and throwing little looks to the hole in the closet from which Keith peeped. Full of a mix of jealousy, fear and horniness, Keith simply watched the superior male fuck the life out of her.

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