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Courtney 1 & 2 (femdom)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subject: Story: Courtney 1&2 (Femdom/Hum)
Date: Sat, 15 Jul 1995 21:24:21 UTC
These are chapts 1 and 2 of Courtney, reposted by request) Courtney is an
extremely beautiful young model who decides to use her charms to have her way
in a male dominated world that finds her irresistable.
Chapt 1
I will never forget the day. It was a rainy Manhattan morning when she came
into my magazine's office to show her modeling portfolio. I thought I was
actually developing something of an immunity to the endless stream of
seemingly perfect young women trying to plead their way onto our fashion
pages. I actually felt sorry for some of them, the ones who were indeed
quite beautiful, but lacked that magic camera presence that would get them
the big break they wanted so much.
With my 10 AM showing, however, there was no doubt. I knew before 10:01 that
the tall, dark, supremely healthy looking young woman standing before me was
magical and then some. The top of her head was adorned by shiny as silk
straight black hair parted in the middle and caressing on two sides one of
the most magnetic faces I had ever seen. Her large brown eyes were riveting
with their clarity. Her luminous skin covered her modest but beautifully
curved cheekbones. Her nose was cute without being overly girlish, but it
was her mouth and lips that seemed best able to immediately focus the
totality of my attention being drawn to her. Her lips were soft, full and
symmetrical. Her perfect teeth were snow white, and the only lines on her
face were two exquisite, long dimples that suddenly appeared to increase the
delight of her flawless smile.
She wore a black sleeveless shirt. You could see the outline of her shoulder
and arm musculature without any threat of excess bulk detracting from her
femininity. She obviously ate right and exercised regularly, as they say.
Her breasts were round, proud and in perfect proportion for a basically
slender young woman. They demanded attention but at the same time were so
perfectly matched to the rest of her young body that they seemed to do
nothing as much as draw you into the total package. She wore jeans, which is
unusual for a portfolio showing, and it spoke to a well justified internal
confidence. I had never seen any woman who could command every line and
crease of Guess Who jeans into perfection. A virtual symphony of straight
lines and curves that sang out her female virtues the same way that Pavoratti
would sing an aria. Every fold was perfect, but the part covering her high,
proud ass cheeks was creaseless. Her firm young glutes held camp
magnificently beneath the seemingly glowing denim, with perfect roundness and
without the first hint of any excess body fat. Even the slight dip over her
crack was highlighted magnificently Her entire lower body was as wondrous as
you would expect something connected to the rest of her to be.
"Hello, I'm Courtney Syndkar."
Her voice came across like soft brushed velvet. Mildly husky and alluring,
but direct and with perfect diction. I had been working with female models
for years now, and I thought it was impossible for me to be overwhelmed
anymore. I was wrong.
We sat down and went over her portfolio. Although poorly shot and with the
all the wrong clothes, it was obvious that this young woman had what it takes
to light up a page. My only hope was that my reaction to her overwhelming
sensuality was not equally as obvious. I imagined that all men she met were
probably similarly affected, and perhaps it was nothing unusual or noticeable
for her. As it turned out, I was again wrong.
It was almost a relief for me when her appointment time was up. She closed
her book and almost knocked me over with a perfectly executed smile.
Impossibly as it seemed, she was becoming more beautiful as time went by.
Not wanting to overplay my hand from a professional standpoint, I gave her my
card and told her that we would be in touch. She seemed to deliberately brush
my hand as she took the card and I noticed that my hand absolutely tingled
from her touch. She leveled me with yet another smile and turned to walk
away slowly. I was positively stunned by the poetry of her ass and legs as
she walked towards the door. As she was almost out, she suddenly turned
towards me with a knowing smile that seemed to go right through me.
"Yes?" I asked,
"Oh, nothing," she seemed to grinned mischievously , "nothing at all."
She silently left and the door closed slowly behind her. I slumped in my
seat with my head in my hand and tried to regain my composure. I had spent
endless days looking at alluring pictures of sexy young models, but this
girl was made up of something different. She was really gonna be a super
star.
***
"Steve -- there's a Miss Syndkar on the phone." The message on my intercom
sent a jolt through my body. It had been two days since our meeting, but I
had not yet felt ready to deal with this incredible vision. Now she was
calling me. I cleared my throat and tried to still my racing heart as I
picked up the phone.
"Hello, Courtney, how are you?"
"Fine, Steve, thank you for asking. I was wondering if you could do me a
little favor." The sound of her clear, strong reassured voice again filled
my mind with the vision of her magnificence, instantly wiping out 48 hours of
hard fought denial. Favor... She had said something about a favor. I think
I said "Yes" into the phone.
"Could you look at a new outfit I bought? I would really like your opinion.
I'm in the neighborhood, I could be right down."
I wasn't ready to see her again, but I heard my voice say "Sure" into the
phone. Well, maybe I'll see that she is merely human after all and I can get
over this immature obsession, I thought hopefully.
Fifteen minutes later she was at my door again. I was surprised, however, in
that she wasn't wearing any new fashion outfit, nor was she carrying
anything. She majestically strode in wearing slacks and a sweater and took a
seat across from my desk.
I started to make small talk but she suddenly cut me off with a single glare.
As she focused her eyes on me, I suddenly realized that I had no further
desire to speak, only to listen to her. I also realized that I could feel my
heart racing. She smiled in acknowledgement.
"I should explain, Steve. Try to relax. Ever since I was a little girl, I
knew I had a strong effect on men. When I was eight years old this boy in my
class volunteered to lie down in a mud puddle so that I could walk over him
and not get my feet wet. I walked over him slowly and didn't even bother to
say thanks. Ever since then I have been able to spot submissive men a mile
away. I never miss, do I Steve?"
Every muscle in my body tensed up and I missed at least one breath. She was
right, I had a submissive streak and had secretly visited professional
dominatrixes, but found the experience unsatisfying. I kept that part of my
life totally apart from my everyday life, and, up to now I had hoped, secret.
"Submissive? Well, I..um..what.." I was stammering now, unable to form a
complete sentence. I felt small beads of perspiration forming on my
forehead.
She looked at me ashen face and bowled me over with a major, knowing smile.
Beautiful eyes flashing, skin glowing, exquisite dimples operating. A full
assault that seemed to overpower me. She got up from her chair.
"Steve, I can feel your fascination with my ass as strongly as if someone was
shining a light in my eyes. I'll now give you ten seconds to crawl over
here, kneel down behind me and ask me politely if you may be allowed to kiss
my ass." She focused her eyes to drill in her instructions, dazzling me.
"Wha..What are you..." my stammering went on, actually deteriorating in
quality.
"Don't be a little fool" her crisp forceful tones easily brushed aside my
weak whimpering, "do it now or forget about it forever. You have eight
seconds left, Steve. Seven...." Her eyes held me captive, seeming to beam
her words right into my brain, bypassing any part of me that might have been
able to resist. I stood up.
"Crawl! You heard me! Six..."
I found myself on my knees, moving towards her. She kept her eyes on my me,
as much to keep me in her spell as to monitor my progress. I crawled towards
her, and noticed that she made no effort to turn or to make my humiliating
trip easier in any way. I found myself kneeling behind her. The incredible
sight of her perfect jeans clad backside now filled my entire field of
vision. Up close, the irresistible appeal of her lower body seemed outright
dangerous.
"Do you have something you would like to ask me, Steve?"
My mouth was completely dry, but I managed to summon up the following words
"Yes, may I please be allowed to kiss your ass?" I couldn't believe what was
happening.
She turned suddenly. I felt an internal pain as her ass was removed from my
sight.
"I don't think so." She reached down and pulled up my chin with her right
hand so that I would get the full effect of her beaming eyes once again. "I
just wanted to get all that out on the table so that we can do business in a
more...direct ..manner from now on. I felt that the natural order of things
needed to be established openly. Don't you agree? Don't you feel better
already?"
"Yes", I said, the overbearing truth of what she had said being too strong to
fight.
"I thought so. 5444 E 77th Street. Apartment 3A. Tonight, 9 PM. I'll have
worked out and will be hungry, so bring me the Hunan bean curd with mixed
vegetables and an egg roll from the Empire Hunan Palace on 81st street. I'll
fill you in on some details then."
****
Chapter 2
Courtney turned and left the room without looking back. If she had she would
have seen me still on my knees trying to put some perspective on what had
just happened. This dark young Goddess had just used her piercing big brown
eyes to see right through me, right down to my well hidden submissive streak.
She had driven me to my knees, reduced me to a crawling animal simply by
offering me the thought of submissively kissing her regal ass. Then, as I
humbly crawled over and abjectly pleaded for the right to press my lips
against her butt, she withdrew, cruelly denying me the fruits of my
humiliation.
Then there were her instructions to meet her on 76th street at 8, bringing
Chinese food, no less. I thought about it for a while. I could just ignore
and try to forget the whole thing. I tried to get up off my knees but was
stopped by the fact that my cock was still rock hard, a full ten minutes
after she had left. All she had done was ask me if I wanted to kiss her ass,
and my cock got so hard it seemed like it would never go down. I realized I
no longer had a decision to make. I was delightfully overmatched. I would
be there at 8, Chinese food and all. This Goddess deserved it and was more
than worth it.
It was already after six, so I hurried home to take a shower (cold) and to
get ready. I dutifully stopped at the anointed Chinese place and got her the
Hunan bean curd and the egg roll as ordered. I got to the building she
mentioned at exactly the right time and rang the bell for 23E. No one
answered. Was she sending me on a wild goose chase? I waited outside,
wondering if I had been had and should just leave. Finally, a half hour
later, as I was about to sulk home, I took a look east. She was walking
towards me. It was a sight that I will never forget. Her long black hair
was pulled back in a pony tail. She was wearing nothing more that a jogging
bra on top. Her breasts were larger that I had imagined and were very high,
proud and round, covered my a thin film of glowing perspiration. As
promised, she had just come from working out. Her perfectly flat mid section
was exposed, showing the subtle muscular effects of endless crunches. She
wore rather flimsy red nylon shorts. Her legs were incredibly smooth and
enticing. Beautiful firm thighs, thin knees and highly developed calves. It
was obvious that this was someone blessed with great genetics and determined
to make the most of them. She carried nothing except an Evian bottle, her
keys on a string around her neck.
I said nothing as she approached, in part because I didn't know what to say,
in part because the sight of her had caused my mouth to go bone dry but
mostly because I was more interested in hearing what she had to say. Which,
as it turned out, wasn't much.
She took the bag out of my hand and peered inside. "Damm! It got cold, oh
well, you can nuke it for me. Lets go."
She walked in front of me up the short flight of stairs to her lobby. I
could not take my eyes off her flimsy red shorts, cut so that the slightest
hints of her firm cheeks played themselves at the bottom and with a slide
slit that allowed a peek of just a few more inches of her silky yet firm
upper thighs. It was overwhelming. I could not imagine what was to come
next. As she neared the top stair she suddenly turned to me and smiled.
"Excited about dinner?" she asked. And with that she turned again and gave
her butt a deliberate shake as she climbed the last stair. I managed to
remain silent.
She said nothing but hummed contentedly as we rode up in the elevator,
checking her mail. We entered her apartment silently. It was a rather
modest one bedroom, with a combination living room/kitchen. Typical east
side. The living room had been painted unusual colors and there was a hand
painted heavy metal type mural on wall. She put the food in the microwave
switched on MTV and turned to me. I could tell that her eyes were on high
beam and that she was going to communicate with me at a very primal level.
My gut tightened.
"Steve, I want you to listen to me. I've been through this before, and I
know what I am talking about. Listen to me -- all you have to do is follow
your honest desires and I can fulfill your greatest fantasies. If you want
to fight against yourself then you can leave right now and never know what I
might have been able to do for you. As you can see by looking at me, I am
not your garden variety type of girl. And that is only me at the surface.
There is more inside as you will see, much to experience if you can trust
your instincts. Are you okay with this so far?"
"Yes, go on." It seemed like the right thing to say. The bell on the
microwave went off.
"It has to cool for a few seconds" she said. "Let me show you around my
little abode here." She took my hand, and I almost gasped at the mere touch
of her hand. She smiled knowingly and took me into the bedroom. There was
one full size bed on the floor in the corner. On the walls were various
pictures of her from modeling shoots, as well as her in various athletic
pursuits including some impressive collegiate gymnastic shots. There was a
book case with a number of Psychology books and a diploma from Brown. This
gym club goddess was also highly educated.
"I'm doing graduate work at Columbia now" she said. It unnerved me the way
she seemed to always know what I was thinking.
"Very impressive" I answered, my powers of speech slowly returning.
We went back to the living room/kitchen. She took her dinner out of the
microwave and plopped down with a fork on the couch.
"So, the way I see it, Steve, and I am sure you will agree, is that we have
something to talk about. I know I have a lot to offer you. Fortunately for
you, you can do something for me, namely, get me onto the pages of your
magazine."
"Well"..I began to protest the way she so easily assumed that I would
jeopardize my job for her. Beautiful as she was, she was still only about
5'6", a full 4-5 inches shorter than most of our models. And, while her
athletic body drove me wild, most of designers still wanted the skinny waif
type.
"Don't worry about it" she interrupted. Again, she mysteriously knew what I
was thinking. "Ohmigosh. I really had a great workout today. 45 minutes of
aerobics, the Stair Master, and then I worked chest and back. I am pooped.
Come here, will you?"
I walked towards her, mesmerized by the way she glowed from her workout.
"On your knees, silly! Do I look like the kind of person you should approach
standing up?" She crossed her legs seductively, her nylon shorts creeping up
another seductive inch. I got on my knees. She picked at the bean curd.
"Be a dear and take off my Reeboks, will ya?" she said in between bites "I
have something to show you". I had not yet seen her feet but the mere
thought of them drove me wild. With mildly shaking hands, I began to untie
her sneakers. She continued to eat and watch MTV. .I pulled off her right
Reebok slowly, afraid that if I made a sudden move the entire situation would
suddenly disappear and my dream would be over. Her right foot, as perfect as
the rest of her, slowly emerged from her workout sneaker. The scent of her
foot's perspiration temporarily overwhelmed me. She smiled, put down her
food and leaned forward. She took the sneaker from me and held it in front
of my nose.
"Breath deep, Steven. Enjoy"
She needn't have said anything. My body was reacting involuntarily, my lungs
compressed and expanding like a machine, doing everything they could to get
the enchanting odor of her damp sneaker into my body as deeply as possible.
I vaguely knew that I was hyperventilating but could do nothing to help
myself. I had never known such a state.
Somewhere, I could hear her voice. It seemed to come from all directions,
yet I could hear every sound distinctly.
"This, my dear, is the smell of my sweaty Reeboks. You, seem, ahem, to be
enjoying it. There is plenty more where this comes from. Hell, I work out 2
hours a day. I take it you are going to behave yourself from now on?"
I was too busy trying to inhale every sweaty molecule out of her sneaker to
respond, but I heard her winning laugh.
"I'll take that silence as a Yes. By the way, I have two feet, if you could
just pull yourself away for a second." She pulled the sneaker from my face
and I dutifully repeated the same with the second sneaker. The fresh sent of
a newly released foot again drove me to the highest level of ecstasy. She
went back to her Chinese vegetables.
"Peel the socks off, will ya?"
I fulfilled her order as best I could, gently peeling the warm damp socks off
each foot, trying not to gasp at the sight of her perfect feminine feet. She
stuck her legs out straight and looked at them, seemingly unaware that they
were about an inch away from my frustrated nose.
"Wow! Look how sweaty I got. That aerobics was really hot tonight. Its a
good thing you're here. She lowered them to the floor.
"Now, lick the sweat off my feet."
I couldn't believe what I had just heard. I looked up at her as she
contentedly poked around at her food.
"What are ya waiting for, Christmas?"
I held her right foot reverently and began to lick up and down the arches.
It was exquisite. I could not believe what this woman was doing to me,
reducing me to a foot licking slave in a matter of minutes.
"Do the bottoms, too, they are really dirty and sweaty. You'll love it!" she
giggled for the first time.
I was busy licking every inch of her sweaty feet. The tops, the bottoms, in
between the toes. She was driving me to new levels of spiritual pleasure,
simply by having me clean her perspiring feet with my tongue.
"Do me a favor, will ya? Go to the freezer and get an ice cube."
I didn't know why she would ask for such a thing, but I knew that it was in
my best interests to obey her. I got up, and slightly woozy from my
experience, did as she said. I returned to her with the ice cube in my hand.
"Its not for me, its for you" she said. "Rub it on your tongue. I like a
cold tongue on my feet."
I did as she said, alternating licks between the ice and her divine feet.
The ice cube numbed my tongue, but I knew better than to complain, Besides,
the delightful feel of her hot feet quickly returned everything to
perfection.
I later figured out that this went on for about a half hour, but in my
condition time was meaningless. At about 10 there was a knock on her door
and it opened slowly. I was embarrassed, and wondered how I would disguise
the fact that I had been on my knees servicing her as I had. She knowingly
put her hand on my head, effectively communicating that there was no need to
worry.
I looked up to see that a very pretty Asian woman had entered the room. I
noticed that she didn't seem overly shocked to see me worshipfully kneeling
before Courtney. She had beautiful straight black hair down past her
shoulders and perfect, clear skin. Her body was trim and athletic. She was
wearing a white Yale sweatshirt and faded jeans. She was striking.
"Another one!" she laughed. "You find these guys like a magnet, Court!"
"What can I say? Its a curse." Courtney answered as she got up, putting
down her food and suddenly ignoring me. The two women hugged warmly, then
they turned to me.
"Tina, this is Steve, he is the photo editor at Marvelle. I guess you can
say that we have developed a very good working relationship already. He
understands our relative positions."
Courtney looked down at me, looking pleased to display her conquest. "Steve,
this is Tina. Tina and I are, well, lets just say that we are quite close."
END CHAPTER 2
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