Domspeak Forums Discussions Lobby Accidential Femdom?

So... Has anyone ever been subjected to Femdom... accidentally?

I'm curious. I'd like to hear about it. Any bit of Femdom will qualify.

Here's one of my many incidents:

A few years ago, I was in Las Vegas for a work convention. I had long hair at the time. As soon as the (female) Uber driver picked me up she looked at me in the rear view mirror and said "Hey ya know... Pot is legal here. I can totally hook you up."

Apparently, this was right after the laws were changed. I didn't know it was legal here. So... If you were me, what would you say to that?

I said something like "Oh. Good to know."

I'm not particularly a pot head... But when in Rome...

"Yeah. Here's my card," she said. "And ya know... Anything else you need while you are here... Women... Ya know... girls... or whatever... I know people."

"Oh cool."

I mean... What the best answer here?

So I did the stupid trade show, but on my last night in Vegas I thought I might have some fun. I've heard of those Asian massage places where you get a massage and at the end they give you a 'happy ending'.

I've never had one of those. Not that I needed one. But... Ya know... Sometimes you just gotta say "what the fuck?" AmIRight? I think Joel Goodson would agree.

So.... I call the Uber driver. "I'm thinking about getting some gummies or something and going to one of those massage parlors..." I don't even finish my sentence. She interrupts, "Yeah. I know a great place. When do you want to go?"

"Now."

"Ok. I'll pick you up in ten minutes."

Fifteen minutes later I'm in some Asian massage place. Its not completely tacky, but its not exactly 'top of the line.'

A very petite Asian woman greets us. I can only understand like 30% of what she says, her accent was pretty thick.

This is not racist or anything. Sorry if it sounds that way. I was born and raised in the Midwest, my brain just can't seem to parse certain accents. No idea why. Just one of those things. I wish it wasn't this way... but here we are.

I'm taken back to a massage room of this parlor. The Asian woman led me here and told me to get on the table. I ask "should I get naked?"

She looks at me like I'm a fucking idiot. She eventually nods and points to the clothing hooks on the wall.

I get naked and lay on the table face down, and... I dunno... put a towel over to cover my ass? I don't know why. It seemed like the right thing to do.

I lay there. I hear the blurbling of some sort of "water feature" that was likely purchased on Amazon for 10 bucks. Its a pile of rocks in a bowl with a water pump that regurgitates water in some vain attempt to emulate a babbling brook. Also there is pan flute music playing. I guess this is supposed to be relaxing?

The woman returns. She couldn't have weighed 100 lbs if she were soaking wet and holding a bowling ball. She was a very petite Asian woman.

Without asking for any consent, or really saying anything, she jumps barefoot on my back and just starts walking around.

I suppose if I had a job where every day I used a pick-axe to bust up concrete (not that there's anything wrong with that) I would have very cramped muscles and would have very much enjoyed her bare feet and full body weight digging into my flesh.

However, I'm a computer programmer. The most strenuous workout my back gets is moving my arm from the keyboard to the mouse. So, I really don't need a 90 pound woman to dig her bare feet into it. Not that I was complaining too much...

But her jumping around on my back kinda hurt. A lot.

I have to tense up my back muscles just to keep her from dislocating my shoulders. Isn't this shit supposed to be relaxing?

Anyway...

Just as I am considering saying something to her about this - her phone rings.

And... she answers it.

Remember earlier when I said I spoke English and little else? She answered the phone in what I presumed was Mandarin.

My knowledge of Mandarin is almost zero. Really, I only seem to know the phrase "Ni Hao" from the cartoon "Ni Hao Ki Lan" which was some bullshit they had on Nickelodeon when my kids were little.

The interesting about that show? It literally is a cheap Chinese ripoff of Dora The Explorer, which is funny to me, but really warrants a completely different post...

Anyway...

The woman trying to dislocate my spine answers the phone... Says something in Mandarin... I'm assuming some sort of standard greeting you say if you are Chinese. The guy calling answers back.

The best part? I can hear the whole conversation - except I can understand NONE of it. Not a goddamn word.

BUT... I know dejection and despondency when I hear it. Whoever called this woman was a dude. And, whatever he said sounded like a man who had been brow beaten over years and years... his voice was weary... and drained... almost to death.

He told her something he knew would make her upset. The hesitation in his voice was apparent. His worry just coated everything he said.

She quickly asked a very important question.

He responded like he *knew* he was going to be fucked with, but he *knew* it would be worse if he didn't come clean and tell her.

She fucking chastised him vehemently. The bitterness and vitriol in her voice was obvious.

He replied, feeling attacked, but *knew * he HAD to answer her and give her the truth because she was going to find out anyway. His voice was dejected and resigned to horror as anyone I've ever heard.

Whatever he said pissed her the fuck off.

Granted I had NO IDEA what he said... No idea what they were talking about.

They could have been talking about something trivial, like they were out of dish soap, again. Or that he forgot to buy the tampons she told him to buy for her, or he forgot to take the chicken out of the freezer so it would be thawed when she got home.Or maybe... he gambled again against her wishes because this is Vegas and he can't get his addiction under fucking control and he lost all of their savings and the kid's college money because he's a total fuck head.

She just started yelling at him. On the phone. On my back. In Mandarin.

And she was so pissed off, she started jumping up and down on my back, harder. There were some solid kicks to my trapezius, deltoids, and latissimus muscles. With a vengeance. It took all I had to tighten up and protect my spine.

The poor bastard that called her got berated and yelled at non fucking stop.

In Mandarin. Or whatever. I've no idea. But this poor bastard dude was getting his ass totally chewed out by some pissed off, firecracker of a woman. I've heard the tones THOUSANDS of times.

Apparently the actual words don't matter - the vocal inflection must be universally global. This must be a human thing.

She kept stomping and kicking.

Until I started groaning (and laughing a little) that she remembered what she was actually being paid to do. Her stomping stopped.

She yelled at the poor sonovabitch one last time, and hung up on him as he begged for forgiveness (at least that was my guess. Betcha 20 bucks I was right.) I think she may have even thrown her phone across the room onto a pillow or something.

She jumped off me, lifted the towel and told me to roll over on my back.

Was I going to say no?

She threw the towel in a basket and started playing with my cock. Which got hard pretty much immediately.

It wasn't a particularly sexy situation. Maybe my cock liked that this seemed to be a Femdom thing? I was naked - she was not. She was in a bitchy mood, and started fondling my cock because she was paid to, but her grabbing and tugging was a bit violent. She was venting her anger and frustration at whatever it that poor bastard called her about.

Then she snapped out of it.

She remembered she had a job to do, and began really paying attention to my cock. Why? Because she loved me and wanted to make me happy? My guess was 'no'. I'm guessing she wanted to get this over with so she could get the fuck out of there (I was the last guy there. It was right before they closed.)

At that point, her actions became less about venting rage and more about 'Ok. Let's get this the FUCK OVER with.'

She didn't say that, but had she spoken truthfully, that was what she would have said. Probably.

And honestly? I was cool with it. My thoughts were something like 'Yes. Let's get this the fuck over. I'm wound up now, and I MUST blow my load so I can move on with my life.... So... Let's work together and finish this the fuck up. It's shitty it has to be this way, but hey... I'm a human dude... And... What the fuck, we're all adults here, do I really need to explain this?'

Even if I had said any of that, it wouldn't have mattered. She was thinking along the same lines. Probably.

And like the fucking expert she was - she watched me. Eye contact was intense. She watched my face.

I'm guessing she saw my eyelid twitch just a tiny bit as she squeezed my cock on the sides. She added a little bit of a wrist twist at the end, and could see the way my cheeks pulled back ever so slightly. She saw my mouth involuntarily open just a bit as she worked my cock to the left a little. She could see my head tilt back just a little bit when she used her other hand to cradle my scrotum.

Like an expert poker player, she saw ALL my 'tells' and KNEW EXACTLY how to play me. She rejected what didn't work, and maximized what did, stroking and tugging my cock perfectly like some sort of maestro. Like she was the Mozart of hand jobs.

I blew my load all over my stomach QUICKER than I EVER HAVE from a handie. EVER.

Believe me... I'm not new getting handies. Over the decades, I've gotten many (this was the first I ever paid for). But this one was THE BEST... THE most efficient... most pleasurable handie EVER, Ever. I'm not kidding.

And she knew exactly how to milk it... knowing how to prolong things to extract every last pump. She knew when to ease up and just taper off gently and stop.

She grabbed a hot, moist towel and began cleaning my spew off of my torso and kept telling me how 'studdly' I was and how much I 'was like bull' and how nice my cock was, but really I think she wanted to get the fuck out of there...

So she could go home and beat the bare ass of the poor bastard who called her to tell her the bad news. Or that he fucked up. Or whatever the fuck he told her.

It wouldn't have surprised me one bit if she got home and ordered him to get naked, bend over and grab his ankles. I'm guessing she made him present his bare ass to her, just so she could beat it with a bamboo cane. Or made him spread is legs so she could smash his balls with a wok. Or something.

Maybe I'm projecting?

Anyway...

So... I got dressed and I got back in the Uber driver's car and ate a few THC laden chocolates, which the Uber driver drove me to a shop to buy before the Asian knob job encounter. Those damn things were potent and kicked in almost immediately.

The Uber driver apologized to me. "I'm soooooo sorry. I took you to the wrong place. The guy I know who usually arranges this gave me the wrong address. Anyway, how was it?" she asked.

"Eh. Pretty interesting, " I said as the THC started kicking in. "Hey, are you hungry? Wanna get Asian food? I'm buying."

She drove us to her favorite I told her Korean BBQ and I told her the story as we ate.

Epilogue:

When I got back home I told the story to friends who I thought would find it funny.

As I finished telling my wife and her female cousin (who found it hilarious) my wife gave me the 'evil side eye' and asked dryly, "Did I give you permission to get a hand job?"

Her cousin stared at me with a little smiles on her face. Except my wife was pissed. Or at least pretending she was pissed. (She wasn't actually pissed because we were poly. Or at least she was poly. Or something.)

"Well, ummm... " I stammered,"I don't think... I mean... I didn't... Ummm."

"Three months," she said casually.

"What?" It was either me or her cousin who asked that.

"Three months in chastity. Orgasm privileges are revoked," she said even with an even more caviler tone.

Her cousin started laughing. A lot. Apparently her cousin had heard pretty much all of the Female Led Relationship we started, and heard lots of stories about my penis being locked in chastity.

Stupidly, I protested, "WHAT? Wait! I thought it was ok because..."

"Four months," she said. "Do you need five? Or how about six?"

I just clenched my teeth and bit my lip.

Her cousin was quite amused.

"Go. Get locked up right now, and come back to give me the key when you are locked. Plus, I want to check. You have 15 minutes."

That was an... interesting... four months. But I guess that's another post.

This is a good read. Thanks for sharing it. You have more patience and perseverance than I would have. When I was getting my feet wet in outside pharmaceutical sales, the company assigned an assistant to me that was smoking hot. She took over my schedule, without my asking, began calling my customers for what she called happy check ups, kept cold bottles of water and healthy snacks for me and other reps she represented. It was over the top. It was hard to complain because she meant well and, was smoking hot. Then, she started making cold calls and lining up new accounts. It was wonderful and weird at the same time. Then, one day when the boss was at lunch, she moved into an empty outside sales cubical and promoted herself to outside account rep. She even arranged for a temporary to take over her spot. The other guys and I thought she'd get fired for sure. Nope. The boss let her do it. She ended up bringing new accounts into the company and doing very well. She kicked my ass on monthly sale totals a few times. It was like she owned all of us. If she hadn't been so young and pretty, she probably wouldn't have gotten by with it. After I left the company, I heard she ended up marrying one of the executives of the company.

Tristan, that is an epic tale and very well written!

I searched my memory and my incident is more pedestrian. It starts with a masseuse. Yes, in the late ‘90s until ‘01 or so instead of being dominated I would go for sensual massages. (Maybe I was lazy, but more it was heavy stress at work.) I would look up ads for massage in the old New York Magazine classified section, which also had Mistresses listed. I found a masseuse who was independent, in the East 30s and worked out of her apartment.

She was probably over 40 at the time, a former exotic dancer from NJ who had a symmetrical curvy figure. She had an Ivy League education (intelligent and well-read), studied Feng shui and tantra, seemed like an old hippie. She predicted many of the libertarian and right wing politics we have experienced in the past decade or so. Visiting her was an experience in more ways than the obvious. She had a massage table and she would start with me on my back, asking about the tension in my shoulders and discussing art, politics etc. Half way through each session she told me to turn over, began doing my feet and legs, then my chest, speaking in a more seductive manner and putting my hand and arm around her waist. At some point she’d remove her bikini top and began pleasuring me.

By the second or third visit she began to make statements like, “You must have served a Mistress.” When I said yes, and she wanted to know about some of my adventures, she became more dominant every time I turned over on my back, stroking more aggressively, pinching my nipples. Eventually I visited and when I was on my back she told me she had to pee and I was instructed to follow her. She left the door open, removed her panties and I watched her pee. When asked if I ever received a GS, I said no, which was true then. She grinned and said, “But you like to watch me.” I agreed.

The next visit she asked all these BDSM questions and she ordered me to the floor where I was told to worship her feet, legs and breasts, with her saying, “Is that what Mistresses tell you to do?” I said yes, and to this day I’m not sure if she was into domination, or using me to experiment and learn how to become a dominatrix. After 9/11 I stopped doing sessions for a year or two and she moved back to NJ and began a vanilla business. I never knew the answer as to what her motivation was, but it was fascinating. And it gave me a first inkling that I would like GS, which I would experience for the first time several years later.

What a great and entertaining post !!

Easily the funniest I have read in some time and your running commentary on the phone call was just hilarious.

Thanks so much for posting this. What a great read.

Hey! Thanks! I'm glad you liked it.

The fucked up part? All of it is true. Some of the details (like the eye twitch) might be a little off, but it's absolutely a true story.

I've often wondered what a linguist or someone who studies human communication would think.

Forgive me for talking about you in third person but accidental femdom makes me think about how you and I met. So, I will share that with the posters here.

Back in the 90's when the internet was new I needed a website. Back then, it wasn't easy to build on your own. So, I called a company who did this, explained my business and they sent Tristin to the studio to sell their services. I was looking at this as all business and thinking the sales rep wouldn't care what type of business I had as long as he got the sale. It was a busy day and I had less than 2 hours between sessions, so I remained in my leather dominatrix wardrobe. I didn't have an office set up yet as my studio was new so, I showed Tristin to the classroom. I sat at the over sized teacher's desk and he squeezed into the small student's desk. I was completely oblivious to how inappropriate this was in business, even as a customer. In fact, I didn't think much about it until Tristin reminded me of it recently. Then, I had to laugh.

As it turned out, I didn't go with his company because their price was on the high side. He did, however, start coming to my parties and on a retreat I was asked to host in Jamaica. At the retreat, he showed up and the hotel was full. I will spare you the long story on how that happened. Anyway, one of the doms from my studio and I were sharing a room so we let him stay with us. Once again oblivious, I gave him a pillow and blanket to sleep on the floor at the foot of my bed. Over the course of the week, if memory serves, he ended up sleeping at the foot of mine or my dom friend's bed. This seemed so normal to me at the time. I didn't look at it as femdom, even though I was a practicing prodom at the time.

Over 25 years later, he and I remain close friends. I have to laugh at the things I was oblivious to as a young woman. No doubt, I've been the culprit of "Accidental FemDom" more times than I remember.

That was just amazing...

Lady Cheyenne called our office and just spilled it all out. "I am a Mistress. I need a website that talks about pain and domination..." All of that stuff.

She was actually speaking to our main sales person. This sales woman was young, very preppy, very cute, blond, blue eyes, pink lipstick WASP republican as you can get, sales woman. I just remember her wearing pink Polo shirts with the collar flipped up all the time. She looked like she stepped out of a toothpaste commercial, or some kind of mega church thing... or she just finished playing tennis at the country club and drove here in the $200,000 Jaguar she bought with the money she won suing some homeless charity for false advertising. Or something.

Anyway... The sales woman was a bit... naive.

I happened to be in the office with the owner of the company when she finished the call. This blond sales woman walked in bright red, shaking a little, flustered... "A woman just called. She's into 'pain'? At first I thought she was talking about a clinic..."

Back then we had been approached by a couple legit pharma companies that made pain meds, especially the extreme pain meds that were given to terminal patients, palliative care centers, that kind of thing.

At first, this sales woman thought Lady Cheyenne worked for one of those. You know, a hospital or something that manages pain when people fell off a building or whatever. So she took notes.

"I was taking notes... But... But then she started talking about spankings... and 'cock and ball torture'... and... and I thought she worked for Amnesty International or something? Why would someone torture cock and balls?!? But... but then it got crazy... she was talking about... Domination??? And whippings and body worship. I think she was a Dominatrix!!"

She was shocked! Shocked I dare say!

My boss and I just chuckled.

Before she walked off still shaking she said "I don't think I can handle this."

My boss and I were pretty good friends at the time. He was tragically vanilla, but knew about my interest in kink. He didn't know all the details, but ya know... those were the days when HBO Real Sex was all the rage... so we talked about some of that stuff.

He looked at me and laughed. "Why don't you take this one?" So I did.

Except he added, "Listen. This is BUSINESS. I know you like that stuff, but when you go there, you MUST act business-like. DO NOT go ga ga over her spanking benches or whatever. Keep it professional."

Foolishly, I did.

I went to the place, which was an older house. And, I don't know why, but houses built back then were usually 4 foot off the ground to make room for the basement? Or something?

So I ring the bell and I am standing on the ground and a few steps up is the door... and it opens... and its Lady Cheyenne in full leather regalia... Leather corset... leather thong... leather boots... An absolute GODDESS standing before me... Cute as hell... except... scowling at me. I haven't even met her and I have displeased her somehow.

My young 20-something hormones were instantly carbonated. I could barely contain myself.

Neither of us said anything for a few seconds.

Finally, I spoke. "I'm from the web design company? Uh... You setup an appointment to talk about websites?"

Lady Cheyenne just smiled and giggled and then really started laughing. "Oh. I'm sorry. I thought you were... someone else. Come in."

She gives me an elaborate tour. I cannot fucking believe my luck. I've found it! I've actually found MY PEOPLE!! Finally! The resolution of all the fruitless searches... I see the light and the heat...

But I have to act business like... So I use all my willpower to contain my fanboy giddiness.

Finally, she leads me to a classroom setting. She has me sit in the little grade school chair with the built in desk, and she sat behind the teacher desk and started idly playing with a paddle.

Actually, it was probably good that I was sitting in the little school boy desk. Just like in Jr. High, those desks work great for hiding boners.

Anyway... I was very upset she didn't buy a website from us... So I made it a point to start going there for... other reasons. And thank god for that.

Oh... And... Yeah... Jamaica is a whole different story...

But, respectfully, one detail you forgot (and I will never forget) at one point, I was on that blanket on the floor at the foot of the bed... naked... with my wrists cuffed together and tied to the bed... and my bare bottom was periodically being swatted with a flogger. Because I was bad? Or something? I think I was asked about how "I had not been nice to a woman in the past" or something like that. I recall saying something about a girl I dated and broke up with or whatever... And my bare ass was being whipped as punishment for that.

Now that I am thinking about it, it was the Domme friend that was also in the room... and I think she was just bored, so she decided to whip my 20-something subbie ass.