Femdom: Widowers

Sadistic widower seduces her older neighbour

This female domination story contains graphic details of physical and mental sadism and masochism, including severe whippings and other tortures. It is entirely fictional and completely my own work.

Please DO NOT read any further if you do not enjoy fictional stories in which males submit to dominant females, either willingly, forcible, or by coercion.

Please DO read further if you want to know how Mark falls under the spell of his sadistic neighbour, Lucy.

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I was widowed in my mid-forties. I didn't consider myself too old to start again, in fact even now, in my early fifties, I don't consider myself to be 'past it', but I just never really got around to looking for a new relationship. My nieces and nephew would point me in the direction of dating apps - some of them designed especially for mature adults like myself, but somehow I never found the time. I met new and interesting ladies from time to time and even (to my delight and surprise) had some one-night stands, but I wasn't looking for another long term relationship and I remained single and content for years.

Lucy moved in next door about two years ago. She was also widowed by then, but, being just 30 years old at the time, was much younger than me. We got on well, chatted via WhatsApp, and would sometimes drink wine together.

Our relationship was plutonic, as you might usually expect between a 30 year old woman and a 50 year old man, but I won't pretend that I didn't imagine having sex with her, or that, although our houses are quite some way apart, I didn't spy on her while she sunbathed on her back lawn in her tiny polka-dot bikini. All in all, I had no reason to believe that anything would change between us until the day she asked me if I would pop over to help her fix her kitchen light.

I gathered some tools together, grabbed my short aluminium steps, and carried them next door where I found that the large glass pendant lights that hung above her kitchen island had come loose from the ceiling and were only suspended by the electric wires.

Lucy found an old removals sheet to protect the counter top, then I jumped up and set to work positioning the electrical box so that with new, longer screws it could be fastened securely to the joists above. The whole job took around half an hour, and when I was finished no one would have been able to tell that there had ever been any issue. I shook the sheet out in the back garden, folded it, and called to Lucy.

She inspected my work, then said "thank you so much, I was worried that it might fall and crack the marble"

"It's no bother!" I started, "it was only...."

"Let me thank you properly" she said, and without further warning, immediately dropped to her knees and began undoing my belt.

For some reason, faced with an alluring lady twenty years my junior in the process of removing my jeans, some sort of uninvited chivalry kicked in and I began to protest.

"Lucy!, What are you doing?.... I'm... It's..."

Lucy ignored my chuntering and swept my jeans and pants to the floor in one fluid motion to expose my embarrassingly flaccid dick. She studied it for a moment then directed her eyes to mine. When she had my full attention, she opened her painted lips wide to expose her wet mouth and tongue, and stared at me intently until my cock had grown erect before her.

"That's better" she said, then she took my cock in her hands, directed it into her open mouth, and began to suck me gently.

By now, all gallantry had left me and I decided to concentrate on preserving my manliness by not blowing my load into her pretty mouth too quickly. It was a vain hope... the sight of her sucking me and the feeling of her hot mouth on my glans as she rubbed my bell end between her tongue and cheeks was soon more than I could bear. I let out a feeble warning but her mouth just formed into a smile around my rigid cock as she continued her attention. I held back the flood for those precious few pre-orgasm seconds, then gasped as I unloaded myself into her mouth. She slurped my filthy load into her throat and swallowed.

After a moment or two, Lucy stood up, used a finger to slip a little stray sperm form her lip into her mouth, then said "see you around".

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I spent the week fantasising and masturbating about her at every opportunity - I just could not get the image of her sucking me off out of my head. On the Friday I worked from home, and spent much of my time in the spare room at the rear of the house, hoping to see her sunbathing. In the middle of the afternoon I was rewarded as she spread a towel on the lawn and lay on her front, drinking juice and reading a book while her back tanned.

On Saturday afternoon I got a WhatsApp from Lucy; 'Hi Mark, would you mind coming over later to put a shelf up for me?'

I grabbed my tool bag, locked the house, and went around straight away.

The shelf needing my attention was in the garage. It was an old, 12 foot length of oak with five cast iron brackets already attached, and had obviously been on a wall somewhere else in its history. Lucy pointed-out where she wanted it to go, stayed while I marked the wall for the first screws, then left me to work. I ensured that the shelf would be level, drilled the brickwork, fitted deep Rawl plugs and secured the brackets to the wall with long screws. When I was finished I called for Lucy.

She admired my work, tugged on each bracket and generally seemed pleased at the result. Then, suddenly, she noticed the red dust on the floor below each bracket and her mood changed.

"You haven't finished yet" she said, putting her hand on her hip and pointing at the fine dust. I have to admit that at that moment I was a little annoyed... she had asked me to help her, which I did willingly and for free, then she criticised me for not clearing the dust that she could easily have brushed-up herself.

I was about to protest when she stepped up-close to me, looked me in the eyes and placed her hand on my crotch.

"You don't get your reward until I'm happy" she said.

"Yes Lucy! sorry... I..." I stammered, then I found a vacuum cleaner in the corner, plugged it in, and meticulously hoovered-up the dust from the floor and walls while she stood over me and watched.

When I was done, she took her time inspecting my work, making a show of her survey.

"Nice work," she said finally, "time for your payment".

Lucy put her hands on my shoulders and man-handled me until I was standing with my back against the wall, right next to the shelf I had just erected, then she brought her mouth toward me. I leaned forward to kiss her, but she quickly placed two fingers on my lips and pushed me back until my head was fully against the wall. "Don't be greedy" she said, then she began to plant long, slow kisses on my neck, cheeks and ears, rasping her tongue across my skin with each kiss. I closed my eyes and savoured her touch, listened to the soft slurping of her lips, and breathed in the scent of her floral perfume. I hoped that the moment would last forever, and at the same time wished desperately for her to move matters on. Eventually I was rewarded by the feel of her fingers unbuttoning my shirt. I opened my eyes to see her watching my face as she pushed my shirt off my shoulders, revealing my chest and tummy, then she resumed her oral onslaught, kissing my neck again before slowly slurping her way to my nipples. When she reached them I couldn't help but gasp with pleasure.

"Sensitive?" she said

"Oh my god, yes!" I breathed.

"I'll remember that" she chuckled.

She continued her kisses, on and around my hard nipples, teasing me with her touch and working me into a state of abandon, then I felt her fingers on my belt and soon the evidence of her work was exposed for all to see as my hard cock strained toward her.

I expected her to continue her kisses down my body, to take me in her skilful mouth as she had the previous week, but instead her lips made their way back to my neck, then she stopped touching me altogether. I opened my eyes.

"Turn around," she said, "step back a little and place your hands on the wall."

Unquestioningly, I did as I was told. She moved her body close-up behind me and started kissing my neck again. Her arms slid around my sides and her fingers engaged with my nipples, sending shock waves directly to my throbbing cock. I could feel the mass of her breasts pushing into my back. She moved her lips to my ear.

"Do you like working for me?" she asked.

"Yes Lucy".

"Do you like being told what to do?"

"Yes Lucy, very much".

She slid her right hand down my tummy to my rigid cock and held it firmly.

"Do you like your rewards?"

"Oh yes Lucy!"

She giggled sweetly and began to stroke my cock.

"Thank me for your reward".

"Thank you Lucy!"

"Keep going, keep thanking me... don't stop"

I happily complied. "Thank you Lucy!, thank you Lucy..." I repeated over and over again. She began kissing my neck and ear again, slobbering on me with her hot, wet mouth. She pinched my nipple hard with her left hand and tightened her grip on my cock with her right.

"Thank you Lucy, thank you Lucy!..." I continued.

Her grip on my cock became ferocious and she started to pump me harder and harder, violently yanking my cock up and down as she pinched my nipple still harder. Her breath became heavy and she breathed hard into my ear. The treatment I received at her hand was brutal, but the thrill of having her dominate me in this way was more crude and intense than anything I'd ever experienced before. "Lucy!" I blurted out, breaking my mantra of 'thank you's, "I'm going to...."

"On the wall!" she ordered through gritted teeth, and I immediately erupted onto the brickwork, painting it with sprays and splashes of my seminal fluid. She continued to pump me, her fingers on my sore nipple and her mouth on my ear until I gave her the first yelp of post-orgasmic sensitivity, then she slowed and stopped, leaned back from my body and looked at the disgusting mess I'd made on her wall. "Clean that up then go home," she said, "I'm done with you for today".

"Thank you Lucy" I said.

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The following Saturday I got a WhatsApp from Lucy; 'Hi Mark, would you mind coming over to help me with something?'

I grabbed my tool bag, locked the house, and went around straight away.

Lucy greeted me at the door and told me to follow her. We went through a door below her stairs, down the cellar steps and into a surprisingly light, airy room. Her house was at the end of our cul-de-sac and built just at the point where the land began to drop down into a small valley, so the cellar was broad and about one-and-a-half times the height of a standard room. The walls were stone but whitewashed, the floor was grey painted concrete, and stacked in one corner, presumably just where the removal men had left them two years ago, were several large objects wrapped in corrugated cardboard. They were all that occupied the room other than a large floor-to-ceiling cabinet with closed doors.

Lucy pointed to three of the wrapped objects and said; "put those together please Mark, then call me when you're done".

I set to work, carefully Stanley-knifing the packing tape so that I could unroll the objects from their wrappings. Each of the boxes was heavy, and when they were unwrapped I found that I had a collection of wooden pieces, and immediately I could tell that they were to be constructed into a pillory.

The knowledge that Lucy had her own set of stocks excited me tremendously, and soon the only thoughts in my mind were my imaginings of what she might have done with them in the past. I worked hard, excitedly building the heavy frame and the yolk separately, then attaching them together on the floor and heaving the object upright. It was a simple construction, but every bolt was long and took an age to fasten, and every piece was heavy. It took about an hour to finish the construction before I could finally stand back to admire my work. The yolk rested on a single leg with a cross-shaped base for stability, the three holes in the yolk were lined with padded green leather, fastened to the wood with brass tacks, and the top half of the yolk hinged at one side to that it could be lifted, allowing a victim's neck and wrists to be positioned in the gaps. At the other end of the yolk a clasp could be fixed to prevent the prisoner from escaping.

I tidied my tools, folded the discarded corrugated cardboard, checked that everything was tidy and that there was no way that Lucy would reprimand me for sloppy work, then called to her.

When she arrived in the cellar she went straight to the pillory and stroked her hand along the top edge. "Oh I 've missed you!" she said, then she set about inspecting every inch of it; every nut, bolt and screw, the alignment of every socket, the tightness of every joint. When she had finished she stood by my side and we viewed the contraption together.

"Good job, I think you deserve a reward" " she said, and my cock stiffened immediately.

Lucy returned to the pillory, unlatched the clasp and heaved the heavy yolk open. "In you get" she said. I had no idea what sort of reward she had in store for me, or even if it would be a 'reward', but I willingly complied, bending over at the waist and placing my wrists and neck in the padded, semi-circular cut-outs in the lower half of the yolk. She carefully lowered the upper half, latched the clamp, and in an instant I was captive, completely unable to escape if I had wanted to.

"How does it feel?" she asked.

"Quite comfortable!" I said, "it's not tight around my neck or wrists, the spacing is good..."

"Quite?" she interrupted, "let's see if we can improve on that"

She stood close behind my bent-over body, reached around my waist, unfastened my belt, and pulled it out trough the loops. Then she tugged open my fly and pushed my jeans and boxers off my hips so that they fell to the floor at feet. She crouched behind me, traced her fingers down my right leg to the ankle, and told me to lift my foot. I obeyed, and she pulled my foot loose from my jeans and boxers.

"Spread them" she said. Again, I did as I was told, spreading my legs until they met the arms of the cross that formed the pillory's base.

"Good boy" she said, "now stay like that"

I kept my legs spread wide, my heavy balls hanging between them and the thrill of being exposed in front of Lucy keeping me hard. I heard the cabinet being unlocked and the doors swinging open. I tried to twist my head so that I could look, but the yolk of the pillory was to deep and broad, and all that I could see was the floor and two walls. I cursed myself for positioning the contraption in the corner of the room.

I soon heard the soft swishing of material and I could tell that Lucy was getting undressed, then some shuffling and tugging and I reckoned that she was pulling on boots. My suspicions were confirmed when I heard the clacking of heels on the concrete floor as she returned. She knelt behind me and attached a pair of handcuffs to each of my ankles, then she looped the other bracelet of each into eyelets on the base of the pillory, and I found that my legs were now kept apart by cold, hard steel.

"Comfortable now?" She asked.

"Yes Lucy!" I said, though the situation was worse of course.

She stood up, inches behind me. I could tell she was close from the air movement, and my skin could sense hers. "What am I wearing?" She asked.

"Boots, Lucy"

"Anything else?"

"I... I'm not sure... Just your underwear?"

She giggled a little. "Nothing, Mark. I'm wearing nothing but my thigh-high bitch boots"

The thought of her naked behind me made my erection bounce a little. I tried again to look around the pillory, or to catch a glimpse of her reflected in something, but still all I could see were the walls and floor.

"You want to see me naked don't you Mark?"

"Yes Lucy! May I?"

She inched forward and pressed her pelvis into my backside. I felt her trimmed pubic hair on my bottom. Then she pushed my t-shirt up my back and leaned forward so that her naked breasts were pressed against my flesh, her nipples stiff on my back.

"No, Mark, you may not," she said, "but I have another delight in store for you..."

Her hands stroked around to my nipples and she pinched them hard, then she let them trail to my hips where she held me tight, thrusting her pelvis into me in a kind of mock-pegging position.

"... Another. Delight. Entirely"

She stepped back, away from my body, and I waited in tense anticipation for a long while until, suddenly, I felt the impact of something narrow and flat striking my right buttock with brutal force. A split-second later my brain processed the sound of leather on skin, pain tore through my bottom, and I realised that she had assaulted me with my own leather belt. I screamed in shock and pain.

"Count them", she said.

"One", I stammered as the sting of the strike transformed into a blunt, bruising pain.

She struck me again, equally as hard.

"Two!" I cried, the bite of the new strike overlaid and added to the throb of the first.

"Three!", Oh Christ Amy!... that hurts so... Four!..."

My bottom was dancing around uncontrollably now, trying in some vain way to avoid her cruelty, but there was no way of escape. I had built these stocks and willingly allowed her to trap me in them so that I could humour her for whatever whim she had.

"Five!" I screamed.

She paused.

"Are you enjoying yourself Mark?" she asked.

I certainly was not enjoying the pain, but the thought of her, naked behind me whilst I had no sight of her; the fact that she was gleefully hurting me and enjoying my pain, the fact that she had all the power whilst I had none, conspired to make this the most sexually intense and exciting moment of my life. My cock, which I was sure must be leaking copious amounts of pre-cum by now, was brutally rigid below my stomach, and I had no doubt that she was using it as a barometer for my excitement.

"Yes Lucy" I admitted.

She struck me again and I cried out the number six.

"Remind me," she said, absentmindedly, "would you like to see me naked?.... or maybe you'd rather see me in my polka-dot bikini?". My head whirred. Could she have known?

"Yes Lucy. Please may I see you naked?"

She struck me again. "Seven!" I yelled

"No Mark, you may not. Not until you reach fifty strokes"

The seeming unattainability of fifty strokes collapsed my hope in a way that completely overwhelmed me and I suddenly began to cry as the eighth stroke landed. By now my bottom was in constant pain, a hot, throbbing ache like that of constant cramp in each buttock multiplied the sting of each strike. Neither pain plateaued and I realised that I was still some way from reaching the maximum agony, and that my threshold was way below it.

"Eight" I sobbed, and still she flung the leather belt into my flesh with all her might.

"Nine. Lucy....."

"Ten! Lucy, please stop, please Lucy I beg you..." The tears were dripping from my eyes now and I was sure that my cock had humiliated me by cowardly retreating as far into my pelvis as possible. Lucy said nothing. She flung my belt at my feet, knelt behind me to unlock my ankles, then went back to her cabinet. I heard her remove her boots, get dressed and lock the cupboard doors, then she unclasped the pillory and lifted the upper plank so that I could escape. She was back in her light summer dress, looking, literally, like the girl next door.

I straightened myself carefully, then Lucy wrapped an arm around mine, tucking herself up under my armpit.

"Take a few steps back" she said. I did as I was told while Lucy steadied me. Then, "kneel" she said. I knelt. When I was on the ground she applied pressure to my shoulders, pushing them down and forward until I was on my knees and elbows on the hard concrete floor, worshiping the pillory, the pain in my backside amplified by the sudden stretching on my skin.