All penetrated by this idea...

This story relates the scripted session that Madame Lule was generous enough to grant me. The context of the story is purely fictional, but the session was very real.
G.

I'm an intrepid entrepreneur whose nerve and audacity have made me a success. Until today, nothing had resisted me, my success in business and with women was inexorable until I met this unusual customer last Tuesday... I launched my first shoe boutique in Suresnes 15 years ago and thanks to my flair, my intelligence and my ability to impose myself, I've been able to open 18 boutiques throughout France, in Paris, Lyon, Bordeaux, etc. I've always succeeded with women. I've always succeeded with women; when you know them well, you know they love it and are just waiting to be grabbed by the pussy. I see it every day with my employees...

Last Tuesday, my colleague was ill, so I was running the store; in an off-peak period, I was on my own. As I was tidying up the store (it was in desperate need of some tidying up), a very beautiful woman with no lack of class or allure came in. She's looking for pumps and seems to know what she wants, judging by her confident tone. I let her try on the different models we have on the shelves, and take the opportunity to make a few heartfelt jokes (they like that). The lady has no shortage of character, nor a sense of repartee that can be pretty bloody. I like this type of hunting where the prey can cause a few bites to its hunter... and I like this type of woman who's a real dog!

Her feet are beautifully shaped, each toe sublimely proportioned to the others. As I slide her feet into the shoes, my palms delight in the softness of her skin and the impressive volume of her calves, the prerogative of athletic women. I love it....

As we exchanged heated words (I have to admit, this woman is quite skilful, and every time, she's the one who touches me), suddenly everything went haywire. At first I think it's because my hand went up her thigh under her skirt, but on reflection, I wonder if it's not what I was telling her at the same time about my colleagues who like to be fucked hard.

So, as I slip my hand between her thighs, she grabs it, gives me an arm-lock, takes handcuffs out of her purse (but what woman has handcuffs in her purse?!?!) and there I am, on my knees with my hands cuffed behind my back!

The woman then goes into a state of furious madness that becomes very worrying, and I understand that I'd better not resist. She grabs me by the neck, tilts me forward and takes advantage of the situation to sit on the back of my neck. She laughs at me, humiliating me by reminding me of what I used to tell her about my success with women, how I used to treat my colleagues and what a pitiful position I'm in. Her remarks become more and more biting, she grabs a pair of scissors lying around, brandishes them threateningly with a vicious smile and rips my shirt and pants to shreds! And then, while taunting me and reminding me of the position I'm in, she rapes me by slipping her fingers into my bottom while giggling.

She's still sitting on me, triumphant and gloating. I'm ashamed and frightened, but that's not the worst of it: this fearsome woman sees that I'm wetting "like a girl" by the tail, and she enjoys pointing it out to me with enormous bursts of laughter that thunder through the store and cyprine that shampoo my hair. And I'm forced to face the frightening truth: yes, it's incomprehensible, but I'm taking enormous pleasure, mixed with fear and shame, in being dominated by this sublime, powerful woman and in being taken by such a woman. Bending under her queenly rump, I'm unable to free myself from her grip, so she continues to possess me, under a shower of obscene sarcasm, with her index and middle fingers alone. My God, what a kick...  

I'm just getting used to it when she gets up, grabs me by the hair and pushes me onto the sofa at the back of the room. I find myself on my back, she leans her right hand on my left with all her weight against the top of my chest while I'm still handcuffed, imperiously places her left knee on my left thigh, spreads my right thigh with her left hand. I'm like soft wax, incapable of putting up the slightest resistance. In fact, and this is the worst part, I think I don't want to oppose her at all, and I'm only waiting for one thing...

A demonic smile radiating benevolence lights up her face: while it was gripped by spasms of monstrous, evil pleasure that had me fearing the worst, it suddenly undergoes an incredible metamorphosis; filled with an utterly raphaelic grace, her features adopt the harmonies of her gentleness. The terrifying mask of vengeful, unleashed fury I feared becomes, by some inexplicable magic, the sublime face of a caring lover.
I understand what's going to happen, I understand it and I long for it, as my mistress insensitively, gently and irresistibly slides her left hand inside my thighs ... just as I had tried to do earlier under her skirt.

Three of her fingers are now slipping inside me, I'm all wet, my mistress calms me down with a gentle voice, assures me that everything will be fine, removes the handcuffs then tenderly strokes my cheek with the back of her free hand.
She put her five fingers in. It became painful, and I was overcome with fear. My mistress perceives my fear; in a very gentle voice, she reassures me, strokes my thighs, asks me if I'm all right and tells me she's going to continue. The pain intensifies as this fascinating woman lulls me with her enchanting voice, then suddenly I feel that the turning point has passed, the pain disappears and her hand can rush inside me. How good it feels...
With long, tender back-and-forth movements, her arm gradually disappears inside me. My lover takes me and fucks me with her arm, more and more passionately. I feel her boiling with desire, more and more inflamed, totally excited to penetrate me ever more deeply, her voice becomes extremely sexual and she fucks me not only physically through my anus but also mentally through my auricular orifices, it's as if she's entered a trance, her face experiencing the ecstasy of the holy martyrs of ancient times. The anxiety that had taken hold of me vanished before the thrill of belonging to her with all my body and soul. How good it is to be fucked like this by such an extraordinary woman. I'm horribly ashamed to admit it, but I took such pleasure in being possessed like that, I'd never have imagined that fisting could bring me such deep pleasure; I hardly dare admit it to myself, but I dream that she'll come into my store again to fuck me like that!

I admire her skill, her self-assurance, her dominance... and stupidly feel deep inside me that feeling of pampering that virgins feel for men who have given them their first sexual penetration.

I'm just gathering my wits when she tells me she's not finished with me yet: she pulls out her vicious, scary succubus smile from her handbag and a huge dildo which she installs with the aid of a harness as an extension of her clitoris . She pushes my face close to her big cock without too much difficulty. I know what I have to do. She reminds me again of how I treat my colleagues. I then understand how despicably I behave towards them, how I abuse my position to force them into brutal sexual relations they absolutely don't want, what an asshole... I suck, I suck, and while I'm sucking her suddenly comes to mind the idea that this woman who dominates me so violently is admirable in character, extraordinary in personality and so noble in her ambition to do justice to these women I've oppressed and to make me a better man.
It's with this idea in mind that I realize I'm incredibly lucky that such a sublime woman lets me suck her beautiful cock. What pleasure I take in sucking this implacable dominatrix, how good it is to be her bitch! I apply myself as much as I can to give her satisfaction and the more I apply myself the more pleasure I take. After a long silence, the verdict hit me like an unexpected slap in the face: "Bitch! What I thought inside about women, the ones I fucked, my employees in particular, but had never dared tell them, this exceptional woman threw right back in my face. As I was stunned by this slap in the face, the ruthless dominatrix slammed my face against the floor and finished me off by ploughing my ass doggy-style in relentless lumbar thrusts that tore deeper and deeper groans from my bowels.

I will never again disrespect women. In fact, I've radically changed my attitude towards my female colleagues. At first, they didn't understand, but they're getting used to it, and some of them even take liberties: as I was bending over to put away a box, one of them slapped me on the buttocks that had been unwisely offered to her, as she passed by me; after a moment's silence, another muttered "Bitch!" in exactly the same way as the dominatrix had done, an insult that was followed by two muffled giggles in two other different parts of the store. I'm starting to worry about how I'm going to hold them, but that's not what scares me most: I know that if this fatal dominatrix decides to get her hands on me, I'll become her plaything, incapable of offering her the slightest resistance; being her sexual object was such a pleasure for me, and having this exceptional woman exert her dominance over me to force me to surrender to her was so blissful that all I want now is for this terrifying experience to be repeated.