Femina's Carol (Ff)
                           Part 1 of 2
                        by Wilma, 6/23/94

          in which Carol's surrender to Femina is
          related in an example of sensual domination

     My Goddess Femina, to whom I joyfully belong, enjoys a form
of D/s play she calls sensual domination.  No surprise, so do I. 
I like it so much, I even submit to *men* who know how to do it. 
As Femina practices it, there are no devices or props and no
costumes.  Just bodies and minds.  We have all we need in that.

     There may or may not be any pain involved, but if there is,
it is sensually inflicted, the emphasis throughout remaining on
the domination and not on the pain.  In our case, there is always
sexual release because the action and the thoughts become so
intense after a while that orgasm is both unavoidable and
expedient.  Not to orgasm, I have sometimes thought in these
scenes, would be never to leave the experience and to expire
therein from privation.  Like some drugs, the only upper
tolerance limit seems to be death, for not even loss of
consciousness eases the insistent thrumming of maddening pleasure
that drums inside me during sustained erotic domination. 
Fortunately, the smaller death of orgasm rescues life and sanity,
and nothing short of it, I believe, would allow recovery.

     "Sensual is slow," Femina likes to say, "and never loud,
awkward, or dependent on gadgets or dress."  The domination is
intensely physical, and the minds of the participants determine
the fullness of the experience for them.  Once into the mood,
there are no coy looks or out-of-scene distractions; the
participants are too caught up in it for any response that
requires backing off and objectifying one's reactions.  Play-
acting ceases altogether, and the participants are enmeshed in
the sensations and cathexis of prolonged sensual domination.

     Physical attractiveness and personality enhance the
experience for me, and in both qualities Femina has no equal. 
Her natural charisma is arresting, her beauty startling.  Even
though her slaves and her key employees see her everyday, the
experience stuns us into momentary inaction when she walks in. 
She's over five-eight, exquisitely featured, and as perfect in
shape and coordination as heaven can make a woman.  Breasts
shaped by a loving creator are Femina's breasts, flawless, young,
large, softly firm, the color of blushing cream.  Her nipples
invite one's lips to pucker and the lymph nodes to ache.
     If perfection can be imagined, you can see her likeness in
your mind's eye.  Her long, sensual torso and her gorgeous legs
are incomparably lustworthy, indentations and soft ridging and
muscle-flesh interplay in a vision that could stop your heart. 
She is all over ideally proportioned for maximum appeal.  Her
graceful arms, her hands and fingers, her feet and toes, her bone
structure and her sinews, her divinely inspired feminine features
every one are severally desirable and come together into a woman
envied by Beauty Herself.  A bright smile from Femina alters the
flow of blood in all who are graced by it, and the faint of heart
should know she will be their last vision if they dare look upon
her unprepared.
     The idea of her took shape in the mind of the Almighty when
He foresaw Eve mucking about with the serpent in Eden.  He
thought about it a few million years, tested thousands of near-
perfect designs for hundreds of millennia, and ultimately begat
the consummate Woman, a creature worthy of God's own lust.
     And it came to pass in the course of time that Femina grew
and acquired her first permanent slave, one Carol by name, who
was the Goddess's social studies teacher in high school five or
six years ago.  It was Carol, by the way, who invented the name
by which we call the Goddess; for narrative convenience, however,
I will use the appellation as though that title were already her
name at the time of the events I here relate.  As my guide, I
have access to a manuscript in which the beginning of their
relationship is described.  I use it here with permission.

                            * * * * *

     Carol was about twenty-seven years old.  Her lesbianism was
not public knowledge and manifested itself mostly in fantasy. 
There were rumors about her, though.  Some girls thought her eyes
lingered on them a little too long, and some gleefully gave her a
show when they had their heads down taking a test.  Days on which
majorettes and cheerleaders wore their outfits to class were
occasions for nasty comments and vile little grins.  Some girls
had deliberately teased her, and they liked to bragged about how
nervous they had made her.  But no one had any hard evidence that
Carol was a lesbian until the term in which Femina changed
Carol's life forever and radically altered both their careers.

     When word got around school that Femina had signed up for
Carol's class, jokes and anticipations ran rampant through the
student body and were even known to occur among faculty and
staff.  The sensation-mongers were not done out of a spectacle.
     On the first day of class, Femina glided in with a skinny
little four-eyed genius named Isabel, a senior who carried
Femina's books and did whatever else she could to please her. 
Carol sucked in her breath and held it when she saw Femina.  Her
eyes did a helpless survey down and back up.  Femina smiled
broadly and winked at her, and Carol suddenly got very busy with
papers on her desk.  There was no doubt in anyone's mind that
this class would set an all-time high in attendance that term.
     Femina turned in no homework at all.  When Carol gave the
first quiz, Femina handed in a blank sheet of paper.  Femina
reads at over a thousand words a minute and has an IQ higher than
97% of the population; getting an A would have been a snap.  She
had decided, however, to make Carol take the leap.  Carol looked
at the blank sheet of paper and asked Femina to come to her room
after school to discuss her work.
     "Your lack of work, I mean," Carol had said, and it was the
last sharp remark she has ever made to Femina.

     After school, Femina walked into Carol's room wearing a
denim wraparound skirt and a tight, blue T-shirt.  She wore
nothing underneath.  As was the fad at the time, she wore high
heels and little-girl white socks with the frilly tops folded
down.  Isabel, her pack mule, humped along behind her struggling
to keep from dropping everything.
     Carol was seated at her desk.  Femina walked over to her as
though the whole scene had been scripted and stood right against
her, pressing her body against Carol's shoulder and arm.  She
looked down at her and watched the teacher try to get her breath.
     "What can I do for you, teacher?" she asked softly.
     Carol's mental struggle was brief.  She turned her head away
and let out a pitiable little moan of self-hatred and surrender. 
Femina reached around and grasped Carol's lower lip with her
thumb and forefinger and pulled the teacher's face back around. 
     She stood there with no expression on her beautiful face and
simply looked down at Carol, twisting her lip and watching her
eyes tear up.  Carol made no move to escape.  She just sat
submissively and let Femina hurt her and hurt her and hurt her.

[[ cont. in Femina's Carol, Part 2 of 2, by Wilma ]]



Femina's Carol
Part 2 of 2, by Wilma

     Femina let go of Carol's lip and put her arms at her sides. 
She felt the profound exhilaration deep inside her of watching
all resistance drain out of a woman as Carol surrendered to her. 
Carol closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then looked up at
Femina as her hands moved up the Goddess's bare legs and around
her hips.  She pressed her face against Femina's body and hugged
her down there.  Femina just stood there and let her teacher
swoon in submissive lust, accepting her worship.

     "Kneel," Femina told her in a normal voice.
     Carol slid out of her chair to her knees in front of Femina.
     "Put your hands flat on the floor, palms down."
     Femina stepped on one hand and pressed down hard, then stood
on both of Carol's hands and loosened her wraparound skirt.  In a
single coordinated movement, she removed the skirt and tossed it
to Isabel who was frozen in her chair wide-eyed and open-mouthed. 
Carol gasped at the sudden exposure of Femina's beautiful legs
and pussy above her.  Still standing on her teacher's hands,
Femina pulled off her T-shirt and tossed it into Isabel's face.

     Carol was lost in her drooling lust for the Goddess, so
entranced by the exquisite and sudden sight of woman flesh so
close to her face that she momentarily disregarded the punishment
her hands were enduring.  Femina placed her own hands on Carol's
head for balance and hunched slowly forward until her full weight
pressed down on the backs of Carol's hands.  Carol whimpered but
sought no surcease of the pain, for the new position had thrust
Femina's naked young legs into her face, and Carol was straining
to reach the Goddess's pussy with her mouth.
     Femina let her stretch for it, then helped her stretch even
further.  She held her by the face and pulled up while bouncing a
little to hurt Carol's hands more.  With her head being steadily
pulled off, Carol was unable to breathe, so Femina eased the
pressure briefly and then resumed the slow, painful, steady
torture when her teacher was again able to take it without losing
consciousness.  Again she eased her hold, and again she applied
the tormenting pressure, again and again, until her need for
sexual release became so insistent that it could be forestalled
no longer.
     She stepped off Carol's hands and shoved her moistening
muliebria down into her hungry, slurping mouth and fucked without
thought for Carol, greedily, selfishly, sensuously, using her
pretty teacher without conscience to dissipate her demanding,
salacious energies.
     She pulled her face tightly between her legs and let her
suck as she humped and undulated, then pushed her down and threw
her leg over her face and wiped and rubbed and ground her cum-
slick crotch and legs and juicing sex into Carol's face, holding
her by the head, by the face, by the neck as she hunched and cum
and hunched and cum and hunched and cum.
     To finish up, she slow-fucked Carol's eyes with circular
movements punctuated by hunching undulations, ordering her to
keep her eyes open that they may be bathed in the acidic
fuckslime generated by Femina's torrid lustpit of erotic passion.
     When she was done, she wiped herself as dry as she could on
Carol's face and hair and let her drop to the floor.  Carol's
eyes were ghastly, and her face a slimy mess.  Her lip had been
split in the facerape, and blood from it was smeared on her
cheeks with pussy drool.
     Femina put the arch of her high heel on Carol's Adam's apple
and held it there until she heard Carol gurgle and saw her eyes
get milky.
     "My clothes, Isabel," she said without taking her eyes off
the woman beneath her foot.
     "Lick her face clean and give her an orgasm."
     As she dressed, Femina watched her skinny, bespectacled
servant lick Carol's face and suck her mouth as she masturbated
her.  She was forcing Carol's eyes open and licking her eyeballs
clean as Femina left, a deleriously sexy practice I sometimes add
to my stories because the act sends me right over the edge into
ecstacy.  Carol's orgasm was inevitable.

     The next day, Femina was surprised when Carol walked into
class instead of a substitute teacher.  Her eyes looked like they
had nested larvae all night, and she had trouble talking with her
busted lip.  Her hands were in such pain that she kept dropping
the test papers as she returned them.  When she dropped them near
Femina's feet, she took her time picking them up and made no
pretense of her submissiveness to the teenage goddess.  Femina
crossed her legs and surveyed the class calmly as everyone
watched the suggestive little scene in shocked silence.  They all
knew what must have happened, but they could not overcome their
incredulity nor take their eyes from the evidence before them.

     Femina got back her blank sheet of paper marked with an A+,
and Carol walked slowly out of the room never again to return. 
Femina was expelled the following week for twisting Isabel's arm
and pulling it out of joint and sitting on her face until she
passed out for want of oxygen.  Isabel's parents took her out of
school and moved to another state.  (She is now Femina's chief
accountant and sometime financial advisor, by the way.)

     Femina's years since these events have been years of
maturing.  She moved in with Carol after being expelled and went
to work in her father's small health food store.  Carol worked as
a waitress and returned to school to study for her doctorate in
sociology which she earned in four years.  Femina expanded her
father's business and rapidly branched into the restaurant and
grocery business and then into physical fitness centers.  She
acquired the male while in college, and took a teenager out of
the depths of drug addiction and put her to work, accepting her
as a slave when the girl had been sober and clean two years. 
Last year, Femina completed her MBA.
     During her annual birthday week celebration last August, a
cocktail waitress from Reno whom she had met through a bbs was
brought in as the entertainment and was kept.  Femina said she
needed someone around who can write like an educated eighteenth-
century English pervert. heh-heh.

     Femina is the president and CEO of her own business, a
wealthy young woman not yet twenty-three, with a full and
balanced life who learned in time to love as well as dominate.  I
have elsewhere written of her character, of her wisdom, and of
her loving ownership of us.  Her qualities were hard-earned, a
story of spiritual growth that would repay study.  In the
process, she has enhanced the lives of large numbers of her
fellow human beings, many in very special ways.  Two of her
slaves, Pussycat and I, would probably be dead had it not been
for her.  She is a phenomenal woman, a lovely, caring, exciting,
uplifting, wide-ranging, and inspiring woman adored and respected
by all who are fortunate enough to have known her.

-- end of Femina's Carol --

Written in love and by permission,
Femina's Wilma