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Miss Irene is Listening

Miss Irene is Listening

If you are looking for an authentic Agony Aunt who can answer all your questions then join Femdom Cave. Membership enables you to share your thoughts with Miss Irene Clearmont.


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Femdom Fiction - Bellringers by Jo Paso

Femdom Fiction From Jo Paso

Femdom Fiction - Bellringers by Jo PasoJo Paso's rollicking femdom fiction romp, set in the rural, but just as street wise, setting of a sleepy Somerset village, continues as the girls – and women – get into their stride.

These young women - along with their older counterparts - know just how potent the prospect of a sexy woman taking on the role of a dominant teacher can be for most, if not all, men; indeed, femdom fiction itself is littered with examples of the strict female educator.

Knowledge these particular hellcats are not backward in placing at their sexy and perverse disposal.

Life for the men in this particularly peaceful area of the English countryside is about to become far more interesting.

Painful goes without saying.

Part-Three of Jo Paso’s four-part work of femdom fiction will follow shortly.



Free Man To White Slave - Gudrun Lindstrom - Femdom Cave

Interracial Femdom From Gudrun Lindstrom


Gudrun Lindstrom returns with yet another riveting and debauched tale of interracial femdom. 

Staying with her theme of younger Middle-Eastern women who enslave older Europeans, this time it is a self-assured and somewhat complacent English architect-cum-designer-cum-businessman who finds himself in the preposterous position of finding himself "owned" by a young Arab woman.

Ownership taking place in a strange world with even stranger values.

At least to him.

A strange world of interracial femdom into which he has been sold by his scheming and sexually manipulative Norwegian wife.


Succubus - Miss Irene Clearmont - Femdom Cave

Erotic Horror From Miss Irene Clearmont

Succubus - Miss Irene Clearmont - Femdom CaveErotic horror, and female domination, in both modern and classical form, is the order of the day in the latest tale of men under female control from the ever inventive and diabolical Miss Irene Clearmont.

With “Succubus”, the glorious Miss Irene gives us the tale of a beauty with roots dating back to the time of Carthage – and a need to control, dominate and destroy her male victims that is equally as old.

Male victims whose essence she takes during sex ensures she maintains her youth and beauty.

Not to mention… evil.

Erotic horror, with undertones of HP Lovecraft and, more importantly, huge overtones of the glorious Miss Irene herself.


Of Male Chastity - Chris Bellows - Pink Flamingo

Women of Power from the Pen of Chris Bellows

In this industrious tale of revenge, women of power take charge of their men by placing the equipment responsible for so much male pleasure and pride under their total control.

When a frustrated Millicent Hayward decides to end husband Harold’s annoying attempts to use her body to please himself and locks away his pride and joy, she finds a level of arousal not before achieved and a Harold who begins to better perform orally.

It is a discovery that will not only enable her to put her husband as well as her once wealthy libertine boss under her control, but will benefit the other women around her into the bargain.

Female domination of the male and the benefits to be had from a male chastity cage are just two of the themes in yet another scorching tale of women of power and enslaved men from Chris Bellows.


The Constancia Compendium - Chris Bellows - Pink Flamingo

Forced to His Knees While Kissing Her Feet – Femdom Fiction From Chris Bellows

Whether he is kissing her feet or forced to his knees in submission before her, the man who takes the fancy of a Chris Bellows’ heroine-cum-mistress is always in a condition of humble and abject service to his female owner.

With this in mind for all readers out there who find themselves helpless when confronted by a woman who knows what she wants from a man and how to get it, “The Constancia Compendium” contains all three of Mr Bellows books concerning the imperious and unrelentingly cruel, Lady Constancia, together with the island sanctuary where she is free to indulge all her desires while the man of her choice finds himself forced to his knees that he may go about providing his owner with the satisfaction and abject worship she demands.

No aspect of female dominance over the male is left unexplored.




Celebrity - Jo Paso - Femdom Cave

Retro femdom From Jo Paso

Jo Paso again visits the swinging sixties to provide us with some retro femdom.

This time around it's a group of guys who find themselves placed under the retro microscope.

A group of guys set to become the music world’s next big thing.

But only until the female singer fronting them decides the guy’s girlfriends – as well as one of their mothers – would be an even bigger thing.

And guess who will be their roadies and general flunkies.

Not to mention providing other, more... sexual... services.

No matter how humiliating they prove to be.


The Second Circle of Hell - Part Two of Three - Miss Irene Clearmont - Femdom Cave

Femdom Erotica From Miss Irene Clearmont



The 2nd installment of the glorious Miss Irene Clearmont's latest piece of femdom erotica,"The Second Circle of Hell", continues its evil, nasty, and downright perverted journey.

And, for once, our eponymous and sadistic heroine is not having things her own way.

Far from it, in fact.

Not all Miss Irene's friends and associates are as loyal - or out-and-out terrified - of her capacity for cruelty and vengeance as the lady herself thought and this over-confidence on her part is about to reap the usual pay back reserved for those too convinced of their own invincibility.

Which begs a crucial question:

After years of being on the giving end, how will the glorious lady react at being forced into a position where she must receive?



Pagan Dreams - Lizbeth Dusseau - Pink Flamingo

Lesbian Sexuality

Female lovers Cassidy and Peach quit the city for the summer, traveling north to The Edge, a B&B playground for sexually open-minded women, run by an experienced Female Dominant, Tasia. Wanting Peach for herself, Tasia lures her from Cassidy. While the angry Cassidy waits for Peach to return to her, she finds her own dominant tendencies are brought from hiding as she’s seduced by the mysterious waif, Analise. Cruelly taking this innocent initiate through bondage, whipping, anal probing and other S&M tortures. Yet only the Midsummer Madness and a stunning confrontation with Tasia gives Cassidy the fulfillment she desires. A fantasy of love and surrender, of twisted motives and crude sexual practices for readers who enjoy the sensuous extremes of lesbian sexuality.



A thought… random… fleeting… unbidden, leaping from cell to cell

in a tantalizing dance,

of what’s to follow.

A thought… returning with friends… demanding… impatient,

twisting in a spiral

of unrecognized lack,

seeking attention’s wandering gaze.

A thought… swelling with desire… festering with passion, as it’s slowly brought to a boil

over lust’s licking flames,

stoked by insatiable hunger.

A thought… leading the body in hell born pursuit… of appetite’s need,

nerves pulsing in pleasure filled desire, seeking to worship

at gratification’s altar.

A thought… exploding in completion…

dying of spent release, on the altar’s cold stone, as orgasm

becomes one with obsession…

A thought… random… fleeting… unbidden,

leaping from cell to cell, in a tantalizing dance

of what’s to follow…

Chapter One

I see her standing by the stacks in the old library. I’m surprised to see that she actually showed up. I usually don’t arrange dates this way. But I was obsessed. I watched her every day for two weeks. She was doing research, and so was I; though after two weeks I confess I was doing more research on her than on my American Poets thesis.

My obsessions drive me to such things. In a mad impulse I finally peeked in the front of her opened notebook when she was off to the bathroom. I was looking for a name, maybe a phone number. That was three days ago. That night, I called her.

“Yeah sure, I remember you,” she said, when I described myself. “You’re the one with the

gigantic blue eyes and the soft blonde hair. You were sitting at my table.”

I’m excited that she remembered me at all. I feel so stupid, flustered like some school kid. I’ve never felt quite this way about a woman. I knew I liked women, but never like this, never with an obsession that made me follow her around, steal her name from her notebook, and find out where she lives and with whom (no one, I was glad to discover). Would she still be meeting me if she knew to what lengths I’d gone to feel close to her? My God, I was certain that if I didn’t have some consummation to this heated insanity, I’d soon be stalking her nightly, peeking in her window, stealing flowers from her flower bedecked porch.

Seeing her now in front of the stacks, perusing some enormous art book that looks too big for her, I’m tingling all over, especially between my legs. That place gives me away, it leads me running around after phantom lovers like a child with a first crush. But Peach is no phantom.

I call her Peach when I see her dressed in this peach colored tee-shirt dress. It’s nearly ankle length, but she might as well be wearing nothing the way her body seems to climb out on top of it. Her ass, which is turned to me, is one of the pert round kinds. I see the hint of her cleft as an indentation in the material. I know when she turns around, that her pendulous breasts will be pressed against the fabric erotically, her tiny nipples poking through the cloth. I know this because other tee shirts I’ve seen on her do the same.

“Good evening,” I say, trying not to scare her. Approaching people from behind can be risky, so I take it slowly.

She doesn’t miss a beat, turning around as if she knows I’m there all along. Exactly what I want, a smile is beaming on her face, her bright cheeks glowing. And yes, there are her breasts with the conforming fabric of her dress showing off the subtle curves and her nipples.

“Cassidy,” she says, in a voice that floats to my ears like Mozart. She gives off warmth like perfume. I can smell her scent, a fresh scrubbed soapy scent, kissed with the trace of some sweet hand cream. It’s been hot, so there’s a musky sweaty fragrance too, on her skin and mine.

“Hey, Peach, I’m glad you came,” I reply.

She doesn’t balk, not even when I call her Peach. Her name is Samantha Clarisse Sykes. It’s much too much a name for her, she’s much more simple than that.

“I liked your invitation,” she says.

“Not too bold?” I ask.

“Honest,” she replies, “telling me you’ve been having erotic thoughts of me, I know that’s a

bold thing for you to say. You’re really very shy, aren’t you?”

I giggle a little.

She takes my hand and pulls me deeper into the stacks. We wind our way into the maze of tall metal shelves, into the bowels of this ancient place, searching for some privacy.

She touches my breasts first. Her hand is like a feather. I’m shivering. I can feel her touch in the top of my head underneath my hair, and at my shoulders, they’re trembling, and of course, between my legs. But it’s not enough that it’s there, it’s everywhere that shivers.

I lean forward, instinct leading me, and touch her offered lips with mine.

“Ooooo, I am in love,” she says.

I can’t believe that she’s saying this to me. How can she love me when we’ve just met? Then, how can I love her when I don’t even know her? Has she been feeling anything that I’ve felt, can I be that lucky?

She kisses back, and then there are a dozen more little kisses, while she leans into my body, pressing herself against me and fondling me more.

I think I’m going to swoon, until she laughs that lilting, approving laugh. She seems to know my trepidation and my joy, and tries to put me at ease with her hands. They are all over me. One hand breaches the bottom of my shirt, lifting it so she can fondle skin to skin.

“I don’t understand this, Peach, why I love you like this,” I tell her. I figure I need some kind of explanation.

“Shush,” she puts a finger to my mouth and smiles. We kiss again. And I take liberties with her body. My hands were poised for minutes, then finally after she shushes me I have the courage to touch her, really touch her.

We’re leaning against the stacks of books: the tall, fat, musty medical library where no one ever goes. I’m glad we have this privacy, because she feels free to raise my shirt enough to view my breasts with her eyes, not just her hands.

“You have such creamy white skin,” she says.

I want to tell her, I find her dark tanned skin perfection, my blonde skin always seems uneven and flawed.

She presses her mouth into my breasts and kisses them all over. She sucks the soft flesh.

Sucks hard, so I know that there will be a hickey there when she’s done. I couldn’t ask for more.

My hands reach around her so I can find her ass, that perky round one, with the melon globes of tight flesh that lightly bounce against the dress.

When I squeeze the cheeks, I can feel her thighs tense, her breath becoming short and excited. Pulling up on the dress, I want to feel the soft skin underneath.

We’re wrapped together, pressed tightly. Her hands rove at will. Mine do the same. We’re both wet like rivers between our legs. We’re feeling each other in the center, where undiscovered clits become discovered, and once virgin holes become places to violate again.

“Cassidy, right there,” she instructs me, as my hands find her special spot. I drop to my knees, I want to see it, tongue it, watch it burst. Her cunt is dark, a silky bush of hair covers plump brown labia. I spread the hair and the lips to find her clitoris. It’s become a hard throbbing finger.

It only takes a few gentle sweeps of my tongue to discover what she likes best, what makes her throw her head back in a passionate stupor. She grabs my hair to keep her balance. So easily she could tumble to the floor, but I keep her stable. I want her to remember only that this was the most exquisite orgasm she’s ever had.

Her cries are nearly inaudible, but to me they are like an ocean roaring with waves of fervent bliss that crash at my ears.

She claws my hair. She tenses.

I work faster with my tongue against her clitoris, my fingers passing through her hole to bring her twin pleasures. Her channel around my fingers squeezes them tightly, a spasm of orgasm and then another. They seem to be rippling through her, one after another in an unending stream. My hands and face are covered with her juices. They taste salty and sweet, that fragrant musk of sweat, makes my own cunt ready.

When it’s over, she slips down against the shelf of books, till she’s on the floor beside me. Her legs are open, her cunt exposed. She almost looks as  if she’s airing out. The sweet contentment written on her face is lustful, peace filled pure. If this is all she ever gives me, it is enough. I couldn’t want anything more than to see the love obsession of my life this happily satisfied.

She opens her eyes. There’s a cute smile on her face.

“You don’t think you’re getting away from me, you slut,” she says. No one has ever called me ‘slut’. I like the name.

She reaches in and begins to paw my thighs, though they’re covered in denim; I admit I wasn’t as well prepared as she.

“Here? A little risky, isn’t it?” I say.

“Hey, you little tramp, I took the risk and so shall you, even if you do get caught with your pants down.” She’s adamant, unbuttoning the waist and unzipping the zipper, and then pulling firmly on my jeans until they are at my ankles. She leans over, lays me down and begins to plant her mouth on my needy clit. She goes straight for the center where the best feelings reside.

She licks with a gentle, but experienced tongue.

It won’t take long, and it doesn’t.

With her hands climbing all over my thighs and reaching inside my shirt to my tits, she brings me off, raises me up, tears me in two. My entire body is gasping, letting go, struggling to let free all three weeks’ worth of piled up lust.

I’m afraid I’m too loud, but for at least twenty seconds, I couldn’t give a damn who hears.

We both collapse in an abbreviated hug, her head to my belly, until I become too scared of being so exposed in a public building.

“You don’t mind my calling you Peach?” I ask.

“I like it. Almost as much as I like you,” she says. “This was a good idea you had,” she continues.

This is where I’m most afraid. What if it’s only been a lark for her and nothing more? God,

please, I promise to be good, if you don’t make that so, I pray silently. “I want to see you again,” I tell her.

“God, I hope so,” she replies, “but can we do it someplace besides this library, my God this floor is too hard!”

We pick each other up laughing, and walk out arm in arm.

That is, after I’m zipped and buttoned again.

Slut Boy Mega Collection Volume 2 - Lance Edwards - Pink Flamingo

A Femdom eBook From Pink Flamingo & Lance Edwards


Another great value, great content femdom eBook from Pink Flamingo and the prolific and gifted pen of Lance Edwards; this time with yet another Mega-Collection of his "Slut Boy" stories.

Evil women, controlling women, strict women, and sexually dominant women, are just some of the female types depicted by Lance Edwards in this second collection of “Slut Boy” stories from Pink Flamingo as the author continues to show us female domination of the male in all its many forms.

As this femdom eBook reveals, their men might turn out to be fainthearted, but the women inhabiting Mr Edwards’ world are utterly committed to their intention to rule the male - be he willing or otherwise.


The Cuckold Collection - Femdomcave Publications

Collected Cuckold Fiction

The Cuckold Collection - Femdomcave PublicationsThree different authors, each linked by the common-denominator of a gift for the erotic female dominant story, can now be found together in the first volume of Femdom Cave’s collection of cuckold fiction.

Xavier Couperin, author of the massively popular “One-Way-Marriage” kick-starts proceedings with his tale of a respected wife, librarian and mother in a middle-England village whose sex-drive suddenly kicks into gear… With dire results for the husband she now regards as beta and incapable of satisfying her needs.

Anise Pemberton, is up next with yet another popular work of cuckold fiction to be found on the Cave titled: “The Spiral She Led Me Down”; but there are no respectable wives to be found here, at least below the surface, as three formerly downtrodden wives turn their lives and relationships around with the help of a powerful black business man and his even more powerful wife and daughters.

Your collected stories of cuckold fiction take a more classical, if no less erotic, turn with one of Sandrine Bessancort’s wonderful re-imaginings of classical literature and a tale adapted from the master of the decadent and erotic himself, Guy de Maupassant, to show how an arrogant and self-absorbed French Comte is both cuckolded and utterly mastered by the wife he has neglected.


Owned by Madam Aa Ling - Mike Watson - Femdom Cave

Exotic Femdom from the Pen of Mike Watson

Mike Watson brings you his latest tale of exotic femdom, involving a Miami-based IT professional who swallows his pride during the recession and takes work teaching English in China.

But it will be something far more injurious to his own manhood he has to swallow when he meets the young, dominant, and incredibly erotic Aa Ling after taking himself for a massage.

And he will NOT be returning to the land of his birth.

This is the third of Mike Watson’s novels of exotic femdom from the East.

And there are more to come...


Tales of Male Submission - Rose Thornwell - Pink Flamingo

Domineering Women

What do a philandering husband, a male chauvinist redneck and a Latin American dictator all have in common?

They're all about to fall into the Fem Zone; a world of beautiful domineering women with eerie, sexy powers in a startling collection of Femdom fiction that includes a healthy assortment of earth bound babes, ready to put their men down in a most satisfying way... as well as a shape shifting witch, a band of nubile forest nymphs, and a race of alien hussies who give new meaning to the term 'anal probe.'


Jessyca and the Boys

A mysteriously beautiful girl discovers the source of her power over men is not of this earth…

Jessyca was always superior to the boys. Her power was in her green eyes and her long auburn hair. When she was nine she made them play house with her. They would have to do the chores and if they made her unhappy in any way she would line them up, bent over, their pants down around their ankles.

Sometimes she would spank them with her hands, but she had a ruler, too, and they were under strict instructions never to reveal the welts left upon their behinds by their stern mistress.

All the boys were her ‘children’, with the exception of one whom she would choose to be her husband. The boys all vied for this honor, though they knew in advance that they would be dealt with all that much rougher. It fell to the husband to please his wife, waiting on her hand and foot.

When they were alone in the “bedroom” he would have to kiss her feet and sometimes her bottom, too. He would also not be allowed to pee without Jessy’s permission and when he did so it was in the open, under her watchful eye. The ‘husband’ would have to beg to relieve himself and she enjoyed making them cry beforehand. If they were especially annoying or displeasing she would make them go in their pants and then they’d have to go home and explain it to their parents.

Jessyca’s own household consisted of herself, a cat named Aristotle and her father, a forward-thinking professor of classical studies. The professor could hardly be blamed, or credited with making his daughter into a 20the century Amazon, though he did expose her to the various myths and stories that fueled her ideas of female supremacy. There were the Furies and the muses, dreaded Hera, queen of the gods; the goddesses of field and earth and stream from whom all creation was born. It never occurred to the slender, waifish girl that males should be in charge on account of size or any other quality. By her own observations, which more than corroborated the stories she read—she knew that men were clumsy, slow and easily manipulated. As near as she could tell, a mere cross word or sign of displeasure from a girl could put them into an immediate tailspin, causing them to physically quiver, or sending them into a paroxysm of ‘what can I do to appease you?’

They were like puppies, tails and tongues wagging; their whole little brains focused on pleasing whatever strong female was the force in their lives.

Time and again she proved her point to her own satisfaction.

In the third grade, Bobby Indiano lay down on a railroad track for Jessyca, and in fourth grade, Hal Ryan stripped to his underwear almost daily so she could ride him like a horse in her basement.

In high school, Billy Joe Lauderbach ran nude through a swamp on her dare just for a chance to take Jessyca to a school dance. Actually, Jessyca didn’t ‘do’ dances, but that didn’t stop boys from trying to meet her demands to be first on her list of potential dates.

Nature had been kind to her, after all, and far from losing her edge over them at puberty, she honed it considerably by becoming a sensuous object of budding male lust. It was all in the genes, according to her father, who had wisely married a Soviet figure skater with a genius IQ back in the 1980’s. To her father, the professor, Tatiana Alexyovna’s tragic death, brought about by giving birth to Jessyca, seemed fitting, because he deemed her too good for this world; too close to perfection to sustain herself in such a morass.

Her father’s ongoing idolization of the lovely Tatiana was another reason for Jessyca’s conclusion that women were the true divinities of the world.

She had little doubt that were her mother to reappear, the dry and logical professor would at once fall to her feet to do her bidding.

Though not a matriarchist per se, the professor spared no effort in arming his only child for the age-old combat of the sexes. From the age of three she had been enrolled in classical dance, karate as well as classes for three separate foreign languages.

Without breaking a sweat Jessyca maintained her place at the top of the class throughout her school career.

When some of the boys tried to even the playing field in gym class in the eighth grade she promptly demolished five of them with well-placed karate chops.

By the time she reached high school even her teachers were wary of her.

Jessyca’s first serious boyfriend was Simon Trist.

Simon was a thin, blond boy with a serious face. People were amazed at her choice, but really he was perfect on account of his unflagging willingness to engage in all of Jessyca’s games. They were both eighteen at the time.

“Show me your penis,” she said to him on their first date.

He did, unzipping it right there in the movie theatre.

“Make yourself come,” she said next.

He did that too, somewhere in the middle of the second reel.

“I love you,” said Simon when he’d finished shooting his thick spurts of jism onto the theatre floor.

“You can call me again,” Jessyca told him when he’d dropped her off at home at the end of their date.

The following summer Simon and Jessy played games at an abandoned farm, which contained a dairy barn with metal stalls. Simon would take off his clothes and then Jessy would make him walk on all fours to one of the stalls. She’d put a collar on him and make him stay there for a long time.

Sometimes while he lay on his side, she would stand over him and pee.

Simon would get very hard whenever she did that.


“Elena’s Travails” by Nigel McParr – A Pink Flamingo Novel

An Eighteen year old, high school dropout, Elena, goes from homeless victim to controlling  in this work of  from Nigel McParr.

When an eighteen year old, high school dropout asks her friend Nadia if she can stay with her the timing is perfect.

For Nadia's husband, that is.

A very perverse and controlling husband.

Victor has long desired a buxom young woman he could take into his home to train, conquer and make a plaything and soon Elena finds herself in .

Then, with Victor's blessing, Nadia introduces Elena to  and  and while Nadia blossoms into a matron and disciplinarian of both men and women, Elena sinks further into submission.

Another cracking read from Pink Flamingo.


Surprise Visit - Austin Alexander - Pink Flamingo

Sexually Dominant Women

In Surprise Visit, Evandro, an athletic and handsome twenty-year-old Brazilian model, makes a surprise visit to his girlfriend’s house in West Virginia. His girlfriend, all too aware of what could befall him at the hands of the sexually dominant women of her family, pleads with him to leave.

Bewildered, Evandro heeds her advice, but not before getting a taste of the danger his girlfriend fears and, after a hasty departure, appears to be safe from his girlfriend’s dominant and sadistic family.

Until fate steps in to ensure escape from the family web of female domination would not be so easy.



Chapter One


Abigail and Becky toiled in the kitchen, washing the last of the dishes after breakfast when they heard a loud pounding on the front door. Always full of energy and looking for an adventure wherever she could find it, Becky practically sprinted to the door.

“Wow...hello,” Becky said when she laid her eyes on an attractive and slender stud standing on her doorstep.

His drenched T-shirt, tight to his torso, had become nearly transparent, hinting at the sculpted body, which lie beneath. His nipples tented the front of his shirt nicely. Evandro braced himself against the wind-driven rain, trying to at least keep the harsh pellets of water out of his beautiful smooth face. His dark curly locks hung in front of his bright blue eyes with water dripping down from the tips. He brushed his hair to the side.

The awning above did little to shield him from being battered by the torrential downpour, which was now on its third day. Evandro was too miserable to bask in the attention.

“Hi. Is Alex here?” “Alex?” Becky repeated dumbfounded. “Ain’t no Alex living here. Hate to say it, but I think you got the wrong house, pretty boy.”

“No, I mean Alexis. I know her from college. I’m sure this is the address she gave me.”

Abigail had been trying to listen from the kitchen, but the noise of the rain was making it difficult. Yet she picked up on the name ‘Alexis’ and nearly dropped the plate she had been drying when she heard it. Nobody in West Virginia called her by that name. And it wasn’t just the name, but it was the accent associated with the voice that caused her panic.

No, it couldn’t be!

He’s in Florida or Brazil. It can’t be him!

Her mind was racing. She crept closer to the hallway where she peered around the corner to get a glimpse of the miserably wet figure in the doorway.

For a moment, Becky was still at a loss. Then a light went on in her mind. “Oh, you mean my sister, Abigail Alexis?”

“Yeah, that’s gotta be her. Can you tell her Evandro is here to see her?”

“Evandro?” Abigail exclaimed from the other end of the hallway. “What are you doing here?”

Becky still wasn’t computing the scene nearly as quickly as she should have. She turned, still processing at a slow speed.

“Wait…Evandro?” Becky said, beginning to catch on. “Is this Evan? This is Evan?” Becky stated more than asked.

It all became clear, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh my gawd!” Abbe completely tuned her sister out. She was torn between running and throwing her slender frame into her boyfriend’s arms, or pushing him back to his car and screaming at him to leave. She did a little of both. Abbe handed the plate to her sister without thinking, and stepped towards Evan’s open arms, but stopped herself, glancing sideways towards her sister. She wanted to embrace him, hold him, and kiss him, but she would never do that with her sister there.

Evandro was confused. He was sure that she would have been ecstatic to see him. A surprise visit like this, after not having seen or talked to each other in over a month, warranted at least a warm embrace.

“Evandro, you can’t be here. No, you…you have to leave,” Alexis said frantically.

Evan’s smile faded quickly from his face. “What’s the matter?”

“No, I can’t explain. There’s no time,” Alex countered in a panicked tone. “It’s just best if you leave. My gawd, when’s Momma going to be back?”

Becky replied, “Well I think she said they’d be back by noon. But with this rain, it’ll probably be a while longer.”

“Okay, you gotta go, Evan. I mean, I love seeing you, but it’s just that you can’t be here. I thought you were going to be working in Miami, or going back to Brazil for the photo shoot.”

“I am. I mean, it got delayed for another month so I decided I’d rather take you up on your offer to come work on the farm for a while. I’ve never worked on a farm before.”

“Oh gawd. No, I…I didn’t really…I mean, I was totally drunk when I said that. This is not the place you want to be. Oh shit…”

“He can work on the farm. I don’t see no problem with that,” Becky chimed in with a smirk.

“You stay out of this!” Abbe barked back. “And you CAN’T tell anyone that Evandro was here. You understand me?”

She looked back at Evandro.

“And you can’t tell anyone you were here.”

Becky thought for a moment. This situation was as dire a situation as she would ever find Abbe involved in. Abbe was right. She had to get her boyfriend off the farm before their mother found out. If she found him there, it would be all over for Evandro. But Becky learned a few things while Abbe had been away at college for two years. She wasn’t the same little sister who caved whenever she was ordered to do so. Becky had been only too happy to follow her sister’s direction in her younger years. A few years ago, she never would have considered talking back to her sister. But working on the farm under the tutelage of her mother and not having anyone else to boss her around for two years gave her the confidence she hadn’t had before. She was growing up physically as well as mentally. In many respects, she was considered a boss around the farm. She had gotten used to having others follow her orders without question.

During the time that Abigail had been away at college, Becky had developed the Franklin attitude, perhaps a little too soon for her age. This tomboy had to make the developing crisis work to her advantage. She had to play the game.

“It’ll cost ya.”

Abbe was stunned.

“Are you kidding me? You just keep your mouth shut, little sis.”

“Hey! I ain’t so little no more, in case you ain’t noticed,” Becky replied, standing up for herself.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

“You watch your language in this house, Abigail. A beautiful hunk shows up on the doorstep asking for you, and you expect me to just forget about it? No way. I’ll keep quiet, but I get something in exchange.”

Oh my gawd. What the F do you want?”

A smirk crept across her face as she looked towards Evandro.

“Him. I want him for ten minutes. Alone.”

“Are you out of your mind? Hell no, I’m not letting you have him. I know what you’ll do to him. No. No way, Becky!”

“Well, you don’t know everything I’d do to him, but I only have about ten minutes, so, yeah, you probably have a pretty good idea. AND I want that picture of him you have hidden under your pillow. The bikini shot.”

“What happened to you? You turned into a conniving little bitch! My gawd, I was away for two years, and you’ve turned into one of them.”

“You weren’t here, Alexis. Things changed. This is what ya get. Listen, you got no choice. Hell, he’ll enjoy it. You know that.”

Abbe could only stare at her. She knew she was beat. She had no choice. “Mother would have a fit if she heard you right now! There’s no way she’d let you do anything like this, little girl.”

“Don’t be so sure about that. Like I said, things have changed.”

“I will never forgive you for this.”

Evandro had been standing just inside the doorway, watching the argument ensue, hardly believing what was being said. A simple surprise visit and offer of help was being turned into some nasty battle of extortion.

“Evandro, I know you have no idea what’s going on, but you have to believe me when I tell you that this is for your own good. You have to leave, but first you have to do what my sister tells you to do.”

“Wait, I-”

“No, just listen. You have to do whatever she wants. I know you’ll never talk to me again, but you’re better off this way. And I’m better off this way.”

Alexis held her boyfriend by the arm and escorted him to her bedroom, which was in the back of the house.

Evandro tried to protest, but each time he was quieted by his girlfriend and pulled forward.

“Make it quick,” Alex said to her sister. Abigail was an attractive girl with a slender frame. It wasn’t her younger sister’s more stalky build that had her too intimidated to try to force her sister into submission. Abbe’s problem was that she didn’t have the devilish Franklin attitude that her sister and her mother had. It was the primary reason she wanted to get an education and leave the farm behind. She was simply too kind and caring to lower herself to her sister’s level to successfully fight for her boyfriend.

As a result of her kindness, Abigail stood silently by as Becky smiled at her and closed the bedroom door behind Evandro.

“Take off your shirt,” Becky could be heard saying on the other side of the door.

“What do…?”

“Just keep your mouth shut, stud, and do what I tell ya.”

Alex, her ear to the door, heard Evandro pull his T-shirt up over his head.

“Now your shorts, handsome.”

Abbe heard the zipper, then the drenched cargo shorts falling to his feet.

“Mmmmm…yeah, very nice. You’re a little excited, aren’t ya? I didn’t believe her when she said she was banging an underwear model, but I guess I was wrong. Let me help you with these.”

Abbe heard the unmistakable sound of his tight underwear slide down his legs. She found herself wondering which pair he was wearing.

“Step out for me. That’s it. Oh my gawd, you’re hung like a horse! Wow, it rises fast.” “Ohhh…mmmm…”

Evan moaned. Alex imagined her sister was stroking his cock now.

“Oh yeah, give me some precum. That’s it. Yeah, you want to give it to me, don’t ya, stud? Okay, get up here on the bed. I’d make this last longer for ya, but we gotta get you outta here fast. That’s it. Now get on all fours. I’m gonna show ya how I milk the stallions each week.

“Damn, you’re hard. How do ya like that? Do you like having your balls pulled back like that?”

Evandro wasn’t sure if he was supposed to answer, but all he could do was grunt anyway.

“That’s it. Now your cock’s pointed in the right direction.”

From his moans, Alexis pictured her sister with Evan’s balls in her hand, pulled tight to his ass, and milking his cock with her other hand.

He wouldn’t last long.

“Okay, I’m gonna squeeze a little harder, and you’re gonna cum for me right into this glass I got underneath ya.”

Evan looked down to see Becky position the small glass on the bed beneath him, just inches below his purple cockhead.

“Come on...come on...give it to me now, stallion. Give me all ya got. Come on…”

Evan’s moans became more high pitched and more frantic. He was close. Finally, Alex heard a loud groan emanate from deep within Evan’s throat. She knew exactly what that meant. She had heard it many times before.

“Oh, sweet Jesus! Damn, your balls are full. Keep it coming. Oh, that’s good, real good.”

It seemed like an eternity to Alex, but finally his sounds of ecstasy were over. He was still breathing heavily, but he was spent.

“Don’t you move, til I say so.” Evandro let his head hang while he caught his breath and tried to wrap his head around the events that culminated with a forced orgasm. The euphoric wave of his orgasm disappeared from his body as the final strand of cum seeped from his twitching cock.


“Eve’s Apples” – Stories of Female Supremacy – Complete

The first collection of the estimable and prolific Miss Irene Clearmont's short-stories is now complete and available for download at the Cave.

The dominant woman in all her sadistic and controlling glory is the theme of these stories from the versatile - not to mention prolific and diabolical - Miss Irene Clearmont. With each set of tales prefaced by the correspondence of the notorious Ms Maxine and the would-be dominant women who need guidance in controlling the men in their lives you can be assured it is an event not to be missed.

With this first volume of Miss Irene Clearmont's collected short-stories we are taken into the world of  the super-rich and the not so rich alike to experience the domination of woman over man that respects boundaries of neither a class nor an economic nature.

Witness, the man whose ageing body finds it difficult to keep up with the demands of the demanding young wife who has him besotted...

The dour North-East of England is an unusual setting for a tale in a femdom ebook, but, with "Northern Lasses", the eclectic Miss Irene shows us it's not just the decadent South that has cornered the market in assertive women who refuse to be denied by the men who take their fancy...

What with the masterful title story and a host of others, this is a collection not to be missed.


To download free femdom stories please visit the Femdom Cave library.

I have become a woman - Clare Penne - Femdomcave

Wife Takes Control Of Husband

A normal and loving marriage becomes something else entirely when a wife decides to exert her power and take control of her husband.

Control that will ensure he becomes a sight less manly and a whole lot more obedient and pleasing.

And not just to his wife alone. 


Chapter 1

The Panties, My Downfall

 October the 17th, 2006. How will I ever forget that day? Impossible – with what started to unroll in my life, an unravelling second to none.

It all started with an innocuous question from me to my wife, the two of us staying at the Sharrow Bay Hotel, a rather luxurious country house hotel on the north-eastern shores of Lake Ullswater in the Lake District, Rélais et Châteaux, one star Michelin and all that.

We were staying here en transit into our new house, a rather splendid small estate on the other side of Pooley Bridge, the village that was the bridge crossing-point to the northern mouth of the Lake, our chattels having arrived two days before, the long journey by truck up the M6.

This was a massive shift for us, Eleanor and I, a large move from London meaning that there had been considerable distance involved in buying the house and now a change in our lifestyle was on the cards.

Sharrow Bay provided us with a good bed, bath, food and laundry, not to say a degree of luxury while we were getting our new base set up, the move-in scheduled for the next day when we had the basics of the master bedroom, bathroom and the kitchen in some semblance of order.

There we were, just before breakfast, having risen and showered, ready to change into work clothing, or what constituted work clothing, an old golf shirt for me and top for her, trousers for me and, in Eleanor’s case, ex-designer jeans.

“Honey, have you seen my underwear? I thought that I had packed enough to take me through but I seem to be short, no pun meant.”

Eleanor shouted through from the bathroom, where she was putting on her make up, “Did you stuff it in one of the pockets, that’s your usual trick?”

I continued to scratch around in my case, eventually a “Bloody hell, nope. I don’t seem to have any more fresh underpants. Shyte!”

Eleanor leaned around the door of the bathroom.

“Then you have two choices. Go commando or wear a pair of mine – I still have two pairs in my lingerie pack at the back of my case and there’s all my used ones in my laundry bag in the holdall.”

I don’t know if I blushed but I do have a thing for panties, be they brand new or well used by a girl, the smell and taste of them addictive to me, the chance now to enjoy a pair of Eleanor’s. I had my suspicions that she knew about my weakness but we had never really discussed it and, certainly, she had never offered them to me to me before, all my enjoyment of her knickers furtive and when she was out of the house.

This was definitely new country to be in, perhaps symbolic of all the change that we were undergoing at the moment.

Eleanor’s taste in lingerie was a little too utilitarian for my taste, very much part of her personality, functional, logical, a need to be in control, some would say slightly obsessive, but it was what drove her, a successful career in high-end value property management and trades, mostly of a commercial nature.

This was one of our reasons for moving north, the chance for Eleanor to run all her company’s North of England and Scotland portfolios, the setting up of an office for this in Carlisle, just over a half an hour away from the house, a far more attractive option than the commuting involved in London; that had been the sweaty trip most days from Barnes into Aldgate.

I went for a rummage and found both her lingerie ‘purse’ and the laundry bag, my choices being quite surprising, the unused ones a pink lacy hi-side and a black pair, a full brief from Anita, quite heavy in its fabric and certainly ornate for Eleanor’s usual taste, side panels in a lace finish and a solid and ‘reinforced’ front panel, the strong gusset where her pussy would have sat.

Then I went into the laundry bag, two pairs of her black Sloggis, all fairly full briefs with a scalloped waist hem, two pairs of grey Jockeys with a wide white hem that were her other day-to-day wear and yet another pair of the black Anita’s.

I looked inside of them, the gusset impregnated with lots of her pussy crud, gooey and white, delicious in smell and this pair were reeking nicely – in fact, the bag oozed Eleanor’s sex, always strong and magnetic, perhaps reflecting the red in her brown-coppery hair.

This had to be the pair to wear.

I took them and slipped a leg into them, then my second leg, pulling them up over my knees and thighs, my cock stiffening at the prospect of being next to Eleanor’s pussy and its spend – and this was going to be like this all day. This was really quite an exciting prospect.

The Cost of Being A Gurl - Clare Penne - Femdom Cave

The Dominant Mistress Par Excellence From Clare Penne

The ever fertile and erotic mind of Clare Penne brings us the tale of a successful man with a harmless penchant for dressing-up for his dominant mistress.

A “penchant” that turns out to be not so harmless after all when his wife discovers him en-femme with his mistress and decides to use the incriminating and career threatening pictures in her possession to divorce him.

A “divorce” that will not be the end of the price she goes on to extract from him as the new dominant mistress in his life while the husband she has since married takes on the role of…

Another stunning tale of male transformation and a truly demanding dominant mistress from the ever erotic and imaginative Ms Penne.


A Very English Cuckold - Parts-One-&-Two-Complete

“A Very English Cuckold” – Parts-One-&-Two-Complete

From the writer of a cuckold fiction classic, “One-Way-Marriage”, comes an exploration into the mindset of an English Home Counties wife gone wrong.

A wife gone so wrong her decent, loyal and faithful, husband finds his previously contented life turned into one long round of sacrifice and humiliation as her cuckolded domestic servant and anyone else she takes a fancy to adding to the mix.

Meet Lizzy Statham.

Xavier Couperin introduces us to a Milf librarian with a new and overpowering desire to explore her own considerable and recently discovered sexuality as a dominant wife.

A dominant Milf and librarian who also happens to be one very determined and depraved lady.


The Commodities Market - Patrick Richards - Pink Flamingo

Brutal Femdom Fantasy from the Pen of Patrick Richards

The punishment handed out to a hot-shot Wall-Street commodities dealer, this after he embezzles money he is laundering for a drugs-baron from Central America, is amongst the most graphic and enduring to be depicted in tales of brutal femdom fantasy and fiction.

And the women to whom the former hot-shot is given as property certainly rate amongst the most cruel of dominas ever to be depicted in words.

This book contains: non-consensual slaverycbt, and forced oral sex.

Among other torments.

Brutal femdom fantasy of the most outlandish kind!

You have been warned! 


Cucked and Spanked - Merrick Scanlon - Femdom Cave

Domestic Discipline… and More

Merrick Scanlon’s first foray into the world of cuckolding, domestic discipline and the dominant woman, brings us the unhappy tale of a formerly happy and contented – if a little overbearing – husband. Struck down by a tropical disease whilst on business in the Philippines, William Grant is about to discover another side to the young wife he thought loved and respected him. A "side" that has plans to use his misfortune to her own advantage.

The results will alter his life in ways he finds as unimaginable as they are revolting and will not only see him lose the adult status he naturally considered his by right but will see him being supervised and corrected by other people far younger than himself. True and humiliating domestic discipline, in fact. This book is in two parts. FCEDITOR.

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It Was Just His Way Of Relaxing
The words reaching his ears are unbelievable. Incredible. Soul-destroying and mortifying.
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