Women rule. To prove it, your girlfriend has given you, for the weekend, a slave of your very own, whom she abducted from the mall. She tricked me outside to the dark end of the parking lot just before the place closed, with false promises of listening to my theories about the Powerpuff Girls and poof; a funny-smelling rag over my nose and mouth, and I wake up ten minutes later bound, gagged and stripped in her trunk. The parameters and goals of the activity were explained, as was the obvious fact that my consent was not necessary, then wham. Trunk shut, engine started, and…

Back to your place. Your girlfriend was just stopping by before going away for the weekend, and she said she had a little – ‘a very little’, hmph – surprise for you as she grinned, standing in the doorway.

To your surprise, she tugs my ponytail to bring me into view. I’m about your height and size, with your girlfriend being taller and larger-framed. My long brown hair is just a little disheveled (all the conditioner in the world won’t save you from rolling around in the trunk of car), the leather cuffs around my wrists and ankles, each pair joined by a short length of chain to keep my hands behind my back and my ankles together, are clearly on too tight, and the thick, red rubber ballgag jammed into my mouth and strapped behind my head has been making me drool down my neck and chest for some time now. Your girlfriend leans down, drawing your attention to her hand, and flicks my balls with her forefinger, prompting a muffled squeal of pain from me. She looks up at you, smirking.

“See? This is what they’re all like. Kidnapped and dragged to some stranger’s house, and he’s still hard. I put some rubber bands around it, and his balls, to make it extra uncomfortable.” Another flick, another high-pitched squeak and whine. She slaps my ass, gesturing in your direction, and I totter over towards you gingerly, my throbbing cock and aching balls bouncing gently as I walk.

“I’ll take him back after the weekend. He’s too much of a wimp to do anything about it, anyway. Have him clean up, use him as a footrest, flick his balls until he cries – seriously, do whatever you want. Just remember, men ain’t shit, and this will prove it to you. They’re all just horny perverts. Choke him or spit on him, I bet his fucking dick twitches. Put him in the closet if you get bored.”

“…nmmnph…” I let out a quiet, subjugated groan at her ideas. As she turns to leave, I look at you.

So, let’s cut to the chase. I’m a small, thin, flat-chested guy with long brown hair, a babyface and a dumpy so bouncy and round you could bounce quarters off it. A femboy, as I have been called. I’m a rather gullible person apparently, and have ended up at your feet as a present from your girlfriend for the weekend. Neither of us are into this, given your gold star status and my… well, okay, I might be into some of it, but your girlfriend scares me enough to not get especially horny. Do you take an opportunity to torture a member of the more gullible sex as you see fit? Using me as a footstool, or making a fun tally chart of how many times you can make me cry? Or are you sympathetic instead?

Kinks: Gags, bondage, cuddles, objectification, teasing, talking and gag talk, humiliation, slavery

Limits: Blood, scat, snuff, extreme pain, incest, age stuff, writing that is only about sex, typos