Description
by Dr. Jane Foxx
The domination and torment of men, and the love of women for women continues in the second of Jane Foxx’s recollections of Femdom. From tormented, submissive men, and from powerful, dominant women, accounts of their experiences are re-told by Ms Foxx as the control exerted by these magnificent women extends its reach and tightens its grip.
Published: 10 / 2010 No. words: 31300
Style: BDSM/Bondage – Content: Moderate – Fem Dom – F/M, Bondage/BDSM Fetishes 
The first time I was assigned to report to Lady Cassandra’s studio-dungeon, I was immediately ordered to take my clothes off. Afterward, the lady announced she planned to include a prolonged period of female-generated, cock and ball torture on me, just for her own amusement. Further, this practice was to be a regular feature during each of my subsequent sessions with Lady Cassandra. What an unpleasant surprise that was!
The dominant lady referred to the FEMDOM practice as “CBT”, and she showed me a brief film demonstrating the concept. On a television monitor, I saw various restrained men being rigorously tortured by a series of giddy, dominant, female antagonists. Mainly, I saw the men’s penises and testicles were being skillfully abused. Thus, the women, in each case, were putting their male subjects through various types of tormenting pain and humiliation.
For instance, on the screen, I saw a young man suspended naked in an inverted position, while a very determined, laughing female stood behind him and kept flailing at his ass and his crotch. The whip she used had several suede thongs attached to it, and caused an unsettling loud sound each time she struck him. I noticed the female laughed and made repeated derogatory comments throughout his ongoing torment.
One of the tormenting women showed the specially made whip she used to thrash her male subject severely on their buttocks. The lady explained the thongs were made of discarded brassiere straps, each tipped with small, melted-down pieces of metal from clasps on her old high-heeled shoes. She insisted the components of her whip gave it a definite female ambiance for her male subjects to absorb.
This startling revelation was the cause of my first disagreement with Lady Cassandra. I balked rather strenuously at having my testicles and my penis treated in such a manner. I didn’t care how lovely she might be, or how guilty I was of my past crimes.
“Don’t be silly,” Cassandra responded. “I have no intention of using a whip on you. I’ll only use my soft, gentle hands! Surely, a mature male like you could survive such an exercise from me.”
But I adamantly refused. Thus, I immediately found myself being incarcerated in an isolation cell in Cassandra’s studio-dungeon. It would have been foolish to resist being locked up, because the dominant lady had a buzzing cattle prod in her hand and I knew she would not hesitate to use it on my naked body, if necessary. I was certain she would have shocked me with the prod, knocking me right on my ass, and she would have laughed about it. That was how I evaluated the lady’s personality. She was a sadistic, dominant female toward all men. There was no doubt.
Before locking the steel door to my cell, Cassandra Foxx chose to tell me, “I think you need a bit of time to reflect on your personal situation, Denny Dimwit.”
Yes. That’s what she called me, Denny Dimwit. I couldn’t believe it. Cassandra knew my name was really Dennis DeWitt. I think she was just trying to irritate my wilting, professional composure.
What had I gotten myself into?
“I could subdue you quite easily, you know,” Cassandra continued, “but I want you to learn to comply with specific orders and the written agreement you signed, without any unpleasantness. Also, I do not want you to be disagreeable. I will not tolerate such foolishness for very long. So, you had better think about your circumstances very carefully. You are in a no-win situation, Dimwit, and I am the best friend you have at this moment.”
“But my penis, my testicles,” I complained, “Why do you want to hold them in your hands? I’ve never had such an experience before, unless the lady was interested in having sex with me.”
“I want you to think of CBT as a form of sex,” Cassandra smiled. “It will bring us much closer together, and you’ll soon learn I am your true superior in every way. You must comply with my whims and wishes. Only then can we proceed with your training.”
With that said, the lady closed the heavy, steel door to my isolation cell, and I was alone in complete silence. There was a dim light coming from above, which showed me the outline of a simple cot in the corner. The cell was small; about eight by six feet, with a ceiling height of nine feet, I estimated.
There were no windows in the cell. It seemed like a perfect place for quiet meditation, just as Cassandra had prescribed. Therefore, I sat down on the cot to consider my situation, and especially what the lady had told me. I wrapped a single thin blanket around my nakedness and waited in the gloomy darkness. What a dramatic change from the plush life I had been used to as a courtroom attorney.
It must have been an hour, before a small vent was opened at eye level in my cell door. Cassandra Foxx was there to ask, “Are you ready to comply with my whims and wishes, Denny Dimwit?”
I dismissed the repeated intentional mispronouncing of my name, and replied, “What exactly do you intend to do with my penis and testicles? I want it spelled out, so that there is no misunderstanding!”
“You sound just like a person steeped in legalities, but obviously you don’t understand much of anything, Dimwit,” Cassandra replied. “I’m not here to explain anything to you. You will put yourself in my hands and do whatever I tell you to. That’s what you agreed to.”
“But I…” I tried to interject.
However, the lovely Cassandra Foxx was having none of it. She offered, “I will hear no more! This discussion is terminated.”
The vent in the cell door was slammed shut. I was alone once more.
