fs02: A Domme’s View – Arc 2 – Chapter 20

Chapter 20

I open the laptop to check my kinklife messages. I pump my fist. Moving the instructions to the end of my profile worked. For now. A new message from Fcsie.

“Dear MsFoXXXy,

I was so happy to see Ms. C’s new post. I mean, I’m assuming that you know her and that her latest post was about you. I completely apologize if I am over-stepping my boundaries here and please forgive me if I am wrong. I just wanted to say that if it was you, I’m so happy for you. Putting yourself out there again is hard. Some of us never reach that point. Please take care.

-fcsie”

Wait, what? Is he another one of Cass’s blog fanboys? How could he have known? Well, Cass’s blog has links to her adult shops. Adult shops have business addresses. Business addresses have cities. Kinklife has my city. Okay. 1+1. I shouldn’t feel too creeped out. You dodged a bullet there, Fcsie.

I quickly bring up Cass’s blog. It’s about this past fetish night. My eyes read carefully over a bit of text.
“One of our sirens returned to us tonight. We had missed her so dearly. She took some time off from us after her sub’s passing. We were so happy to have her back with us.”

I scroll down to the comments.

“Thank you for sharing this, Ms. C. If the missing siren is who I think she is, I’m so very happy. She is a wonderful woman. Next time you see her, please tell her that I am rooting for her.”

Of course Fcsie reads her. Cass must be like the fetish Queen for those into fur and Femdom. I pick up my phone and send a text.

“How well do you know that Fcsie on your blog?”
Moments later she responds.
“He’s been a loyal reader since the start. I’m quite fond of him. Did he really find you?”
“Yes, should I be freaked out about that?”
“I don’t think you should worry. I follow a number of the blogs he reads. He’s always polite and often insightful. He seems to have a good idea of what type of interaction is appropriate. I think you will be fine.”
“Ok, good. He sends me a message every day, usually just saying something supportive in a way that makes me smile.”
“That sounds like him.”
“Thank you, Cass.”
“Anytime.”

This puts my heart at ease. I trust her judgment.

My email notification dings. It’s my personal email and not the one I use for kink-related endeavors. I open it on my phone. It’s from a James S. I quickly open it and wait for it to load. My pulse quickens.

“Wanda,

I heard through the grapevine that you were looking for me. I hope it’s okay that I contacted you. I’m still local. I live in the NW burbs.

How are you? It’s been ages. Are you still pretending to be Wonderous Woman? Just kidding. I would be lying if I said that I never thought of you, but I don’t want to come off as a stalker or anything.

I’m around if you would like to get in touch with me.

James (aka Freddie)
XYZ-XXX-XYZX”

A wave of memories come rushing back. I feel my youth inside of me. Really, Freddie? You sent me all this but told me nothing. Fuck it. I click on his number and select call. I’ll just leave him a quick message. I don’t know anyone that actually answers unknown numbers anymore. To my surprise, he answers immediately.

“Hello? This is James.”
I pause. My mouth feels dry.
“Umm, okay then.”
“It’s Wanda.”

I hear him take a deep breath.
“It’s so good to hear from you. Really. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

Way to go, Wanda. Make the call without thinking about what you want to say.
“I’m glad to hear that, umm,”
“I go by James now.”
“I prefer Freddie.”
“Freddie is fine, but only for you.”

I blush like a school girl.
“So what you have been up to, Freddie?”
“Not a lot. After college, I got a job. I still work there.”
“Are you married? Do you have any kids?”
“No and no. How about you?”
“I was married once. Now I’m divorced. No kids. I live in the city.”

There’s a pause. He’s probably more nervous than I am.
“I don’t want to sound rude, but, I’m guessing there’s a reason you wanted to talk to me after all these years.”

The honeymoon ended so quickly.
“Life. Changes. Regrets. I know that I wronged you. I wanted to make sure that you turned out okay.”
“Is this one of those midlife crisis things?”

I cover my eyes with my hand. Dammit, Freddie.
“And if I say yes?”
“Then I think this is the type of thing that should be discussed in person and not over the phone.”

That twist in my chest is fear, isn’t it? Yes, it is. Courage, Wanda, you owe it to him.
“I agree, Freddie. When would be good for you?”
“I’m wide open. Really, I don’t do much. It’s kind of sad. How about tonight?”

Wait, what? You son of a bitch, Freddie.
“If that doesn’t work for you, that’s fine. I just figured that since you were trying to apologize to me that… you know.”

I bite my lip and clench my fist. Little Freddie and his passive aggressive guilt trips. How many times did he get half of my cookie that way back then? Decisive action.

“Tonight is fine as long as it’s somewhere near me. Drinks at 8?”
“Sure. Just text me the address.”
“Okay, I will see you then.”

I send him the address to the lounge. Fuck. Why did I have to choose there? Dammit, Wanda, you lazy creature of habit.

I head upstairs to change. How long has it been since I dressed up for a stranger? I welcome the tidbits of anxiety, insecurity, and self-consciousness that creep back into my heart. I hadn’t missed their absence, but I appreciate that this feels real. I flip through my closet. Attractive without flirty, confident. Why am I worrying? I’m sure he would love it if I showed up dressed as Wonderous Woman. That’s right, Wanda. You have the power.

I touch up my makeup focusing on my eyes. It’s always my eyes that gets them. A fresh coat of lipstick. This is much as I will do for you, Freddie. I’m not meeting you to impress you.

I select a cowl-neck sweater-dress that flatters my figure but isn’t too slutty. A wide leather belt will go quite well. Stockings always make me feel sexy. Fuck it. Knee-high boots. I giggle as I picture my cowboy boots of old that were part of my Wonderous Woman getup. I watch myself in the mirror as I dress. I appreciate the gift of confidence that was given and nurtured. The old me would have been all over the place. The old Wanda is dead. I am me now. Finally.

I check the time. If I leave now I’ll be early. I like early. The drive is short. I park and find my way in. I survey the lounge. I won’t sit there. Too many memories. I choose the opposite end and slide into a booth. My phone beeps. A text. I check the message.

“Please tell me that was you that just sat down.”

Mother-fucker. Why is everyone earlier than me?
“It is and I wish to sit here.”
“I’ll be right there.”

I watch as a man approaches with a glass in hand. He’s nothing special. His wide frame looks muscular but he has a bit of a belly. Age is catching up to us.
“Wanda?”
I nod.
“Is it okay if I sit?”
“No, I was expecting you to stand the entire time, that’s why I agreed to meet you.”

Nervous much, Freddie? The look on his face is quite priceless. I disarm him with a smile and hold out my hand. He blushes and slides into the booth.

“I’m sorry, Wanda. I don’t really go out much.”

His awkwardness and honesty are a little endearing.
“It’s fine. We’re old friends.”

He blushes and looks at his glass.
“I just wanted to say that you look absolutely beautiful, Wanda. I’m not sure what I was expecting. Part of me hoped that you would be hideous so I wouldn’t feel nervous. I will say that I’m glad that you aren’t.”
“Thank you, Freddie.”

A waiter arrives and I order a drink. It gives me a pause to think about what to say next. This is more awkward than I thought it would be, although to be fair, I never really envisioned this happening so soon. I take the initiative.

“Freddie, I reached out to you because I wanted to say that I feel awful about how I treated you when we were younger. I was terrible to you.”
“Terrible?”

Freddie laughs. I expect him to lay into me.
“You were the best friend I ever had. I was such a shy and timid little turd. If not for you, I wouldn’t have had any friends at all.”

Wait, what?
“But that day on the bus, when all the kids chanted ‘Freddie is a loser.’”
“Wanda. They called me a loser before that day, they just wouldn’t dare do it when you were near. You scared the shit out of the other boys.”
“Freddie, I’m sor…”
“Don’t you dare apologize, Wanda. That day on the bus, hurt, but it also lit a fire. When my family moved, I got a new start. I started lifting weights. I got into football. I had friends. I had been hiding behind you and depending upon you. So yeah, that changed me, but for the better.”

I’m happy when my drink arrives so that I don’t have to look him in the eye. When my emotions twist like this I know nothing will feel clear for a while. Telling me, ‘don’t feel that way’ won’t make me ‘stop feeling that way’ immediately.

I sip my drink and look up at him. He seems lost in thought, calculating what to say next. He swings at me with a formidable question.

“So what happened, Wanda, that woke up this need to reach out?”

Dammit, Freddie. You fucking fool.
“I lost someone. My fiance.”
“I’m so sorry, Wanda. How long ago?”
“About 8 months.”
“How long were you together?”
“Almost 2 years.”
“Does that mean you’re single now?”

I cross my arms. Smooth, Freddie. You awkward bastard. I turn the tables.
“Yes. What about you? Are you single?”
“Perpetually.”

Ouch.
“No lady crushes? No ex’s to pine over?”
“I’ve never had a girlfriend.”

Oh, Freddie. Not one?
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s not your fault.”

Are you sure? I try to value his honesty, even if it feels a bit sad.
“Well, maybe it is your fault.”

Are the gloves off? I uncross my arms and slide up in my seat. Tell me more.
“Every girl I ever got close to I lost interest in because she wasn’t like you.”

I try to hide my cringe. Heart strings are meant to be pulled GENTLY, Freddie, if you touch them at all. I apply my best poker-face.
“How so?”
“You were so strong. Fearless. Confident. You knew exactly what you wanted and you had to have it. I felt happy just being able to give that to you. The girls in high school and college just wanted some take charge guy who would tell them what to do so they didn’t have to think. It was unattractive.”

Thank you, Freddie. I crack a smile at him. He grins a nervous grin. Just like I remember you, Freddie.
“So why aren’t you out there trying to find another strong woman? They’re out there.”
“Well. Umm. Shit.”

Watching him squirm is lovely. I obviously found the button to press.
“I’m still a virgin.”

Oh, Freddie. Are you trying to impress me or make me pity you?
“There have to be women out there that wouldn’t mind a virgin. Sex can be learned.”
“Well, it’s. Like. I had a chance. I tried. And, just.”

Straight for the jugular.
“You couldn’t get it up?”

You’d think I coated his face in red paint. He nods.
“Have you tried guys?”
“Definitely, no. No way.”
“How do you know?”
“Well… because…”
“Porn?”

He nods again. The paint sticks. It’s odd how much more comfortable I feel when I’m on the attack.
“So you like Femdom porn?”

He glances around like I’m sharing some top secret nuclear information that he’s hiding from the Russians. He nods.
“Well, at least we know there’s something that gets your dickie excited.”

Damn, Wanda, that was cruel even for you. I do enjoy getting lost in the moment. Watching him sink is exquisite. Karma. I take a breath.
“You know, Freddie, your desires aren’t all that uncommon. There are a lot of submissive men out there.”
“How would you know?”
“Wonderous Woman knows all, remember? I wrap them in my lasso and they have to tell the truth.”

He lets out a laugh. That’s good, Freddie, you don’t know if I’m serious or joking.
“Does being a virgin at this age make you feel ashamed? Or is the shame because you feel sexually broken?”

His brow furrows. He knows I can see him. He fears that I will reject what I see in a heartbeat. Wait for his response and then prod him.
“Can it be both?”
“I can’t believe I’m sitting here having this discussion with a disgusting pervert. I’m leaving.”

I pretend to gather my purse. He looks like he’s going to cry. Oh, Freddie, THIS is the discussion that kept you single all these years, isn’t it?

“I’m only kidding, Freddie. Don’t take things so seriously. You aren’t a pervert. Well, I mean, you are a pervert, but I won’t walk out of your life simply for being one.”

He cracks a half smile at me. I see his eyes get misty.
“Thank you, Wanda.”
“That is, if you tell me how you got this way. If you aren’t honest, I will walk out.”

I’m a total bitch. Should I feel bad having so much fun with this?
“It’s because every sexual fantasy I ever had was about you.”

Boom. I quickly glance up to see if the mushroom cloud is visible above my head. I crack a wide smile. The old me would have been disgusted. The new me takes this as the ultimate form of flattery.

I picture what his fantasies must have been like. Bondage. Imprisonment. Leashes. Beatings. Me sitting on him. The flashes in my head are of the current us. I tingle a little. Prod him.

“That’s kind of disturbing, Freddie. But what can I say, thanks?”

He covers his face with his hands. I hear him whisper the words.
“Oh my god, I knew I shouldn’t have said that. Please don’t leave, please don’t leave, please don’t leave.”

I did ruin you, Freddie. That much is clear now. I do owe you an apology. This awkwardness is my fault. A lifetime’s worth of it.
“Freddie, I’m going to take you home with me tonight.”

His eyes widen. He simply nods. This is the Freddie I remember. He pays for our drinks and we exit the bar. I tell him I live close by. He agrees to follow me. My mind races as I make the drive home, driving slower than usual to be careful that I don’t lose him.

I pull into the driveway and meet him at the front door. We enter together.
“You have a nice house.”
“Don’t talk, Freddie.” I press my finger to his lips.

I take him by the hand and lead him upstairs. We move into the bedroom. He’s breathing heavily. I can see his nerves wrecking him. Don’t worry, innocent boy, I will take care of everything. We enter the room.
“Take off your clothes, Freddie. I want you naked. Don’t be worried about your dick. I’ve seen enough of them to not care about its size.”

I watch him. He undresses carefully and deliberately. He thinks I’m judging him. He worries if he looks too excited that he’ll seem pathetic. You already bared your soul to me, Freddie. There’s nothing left to hide. His penis is average or a little above. Nothing to be ashamed of. It stands rock hard and straight out. Silly boy.

“Get on the bed. On your back.”

He nods and climbs on slowly. He’s trembling. How cute. I watch him crawl to the center of the bed and turn over. Don’t worry, Freddie, I’ll make sure it stays hard.

When he’s in position I go to the dresser and open the drawer. It’s been too long. I retrieve the cuffs and chains and a handful of locks. I set them on the bed next to him. His eyes continue to follow me. His chest heaves up and down. He’s nervous. I slip my panties down to my ankles. They’re a bit moist. Perfect for him. I pick them up and approach him.

“Open your mouth.”

He opens. I press them inside and push his chin shut. I hope you enjoy the taste of me, boy. His nostrils flare with each breath. I retrieve a leather cuff and close it around his wrist. Then the lock. I run a length of chain around the bedpost and connect it. The force of his breaths increase. His cock seems bigger, too. I move down to his ankle and shackle it to the post. Then the other. Finally his last free wrist. This is what it feels like to be truly helpless, Freddie. Do you like it?

I need some privacy. I take a blindfold from the drawer and pull it over his eyes. A small piece of duct tape should ensure that you enjoy my taste and don’t do anything stupid like trying to speak. His body shows minor beads of sweat. His cock oozes pre-cum.

I slip out of my dress and grin. I slide into my siren outfit. Then the gloves, boots, jacket, and headband. I remove the crotch section. Shit. I dig through the drawer. I find a condom. It expired last year. Fuck. I’ll just have to time it, Freddie. I remove the condom from its package. I climb onto the bed and slide it down his shaft. He lets out a muffled cry and I watch his penis pulse and squirt into the condom. I let out a sigh. You pathetic pre-jaculator, Freddie. I hear him whimpering.

Such a pathetic boy should be ashamed. When someone asks you how long you lasted the first time you’ll have to tell them that you shot your load putting on the condom. That kind of story will haunt you for life. I suppose it’s still better than not having a story at your age. I return to the drawer and dig. You stop buying condom’s when you don’t let a man fuck you. Spur of the moment, Wanda. Finally. I find another. With a towel in hand I clean him up and then remove his blindfold.

“I’m still Wonderous Woman, Freddie.”

I place my hands on my hips and stand before him. His eyes widen. He pulls against his chains. Good boy. Squirm for me. He puts out a single ‘mmm’ against the tape. I shake my head. Don’t talk, Freddie. Show me you can still follow my lead.

I watch his cock rise and stand straight up. I smirk. I’m so happy you approve, Freddie. I’m fucking hot right now. I open the second condom and slide it on. I stroke it a few times and feel him expand in my hand. See, Freddie? You can get hard with a woman.

I climb onto the bed and straddle his torso. I guide him inside of me. I take a deep breath as I slide down the length of his shaft. His forehead crinkles. How does it feel, Freddie, to be inside of me? I grip him tightly with my muscles. My fingers finds his nipples. He stares straight at me without blinking. I grind my hips once. He moans behind the tape. Yes, Freddie, this is what sex feels like. This is what has been denied to you all those years.

I grind again, sliding up and down his shaft. Over and over. His moans. I’m sorry, Freddie, but I don’t enjoy sex. I won’t be moaning for you. I accept yours. They are delicious.

I press on. Our bodies meet again and again. The light slapping of flesh on flesh fills the room, only broken by his pants and moans. Please don’t get me wrong, Freddie. I don’t love you. This is a pity fuck. This is my apology to you. I give you this gift of pride. You are a man.

I meet his eyes and pierce them. He looks like he’s going to cry. I continue grinding my hips upon him. Again and again. He begins to raise his hips to meet me. Good boy. I shouldn’t be the only one who has to work. Up and down, up and down. Deeper, faster, harder. Please accept this apology, Freddie. I hope this makes up for all that you have lost out on.

I feel him strain inside of me. He’s close. His muffled moans sound almost like cries. This is it, Freddie. This is you becoming a man. I press and I press and I press. He gasps. His eyes finally break their lock on me. I slide off and grab his cock with my hand. It fills the condom with his juices in a series of squirts and pulses. I hope that you appreciate my gift to you.

I dismount and walk back towards the closet. I strip off my clothes and pull on a fresh pair of panties, some sweats, and a t-shirt. I return to him and unlock his wrists, then his ankles. I pass him a towel. He rises with difficulty. I break eye contact and force myself not to look. I hear the tape rip from his skin. I see my panties hit the floor. I hear him exhale as he cleans up his soiled crotch. I sit facing away from him. I wish you would leave right now, Freddie. I don’t want to see you anymore. I have purged you from me. His voice cracks as he speaks.

“I’m so sorry.”

Wait, what? He’s sobbing.
“I’m so sorry you didn’t cum.”

I clench my teeth. Freddie, you bastard. Why?
“I’m so sorry you didn’t cum, Wanda. I’m sorry I wasn’t better.”

Oh, Freddie. Don’t force your way in. You aren’t welcome in here. I just let you out.
“Freddie. Is it okay if you leave? I have to work early tomorrow.”
“I’ll leave. I’m really sorry, Wanda. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Just leave.”

Fuck me. What did I do?

I sit in silence as I hear him gather his things and get dressed. He speaks to me from across the room.
“Wanda, you really are still Wonderous Woman, just like I remembered you. I lo…”
“Don’t, Freddie. Don’t you dare say it.”

My voice begins to crack.
“Thank you, Wanda.”

He closes the door behind him. I hear the front door, then the car door. The rumble of the engine, the glare of the lights. Please go, Freddie. I need you to leave.

The silence is deafening. I curl up in bed. Oh, Wanda. What do you feel now?

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