A Submissive’s Story of Group Femdom, Breaking In, and self revelations

The letter below is penned by an ex-boyfriend of mine. Our relationship transpired during a time when I was newly out of college and navigating the realms of dominatrix practice with novice hands. Reflecting on it now, I deeply regret the actions of that particular night. My youthful inexperience clouded my judgment, leading me to believe that the events that unfolded were acceptable. I’ve requested Ryan to write this letter and recount his experience. Today, Ryan finds himself in a committed long-term FLR with his wife, content in his devotion to her. We’re enlisting him to compose a series of these letters, providing insight into the experiences of a first-time submissive under the guidance of a youthful, inexperienced dominatrix who is learning from her past missteps.

–Mistress Heather

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Ryan’s Letter to FemdomU Forum: A Submissive’s Confession of Group Femdom, Breaking In and Self Revelations

Dear FemdomU Forum,

My name is Ryan and I have a wild story to share with you. It all happened about a year ago, but the memory is still a popular choice in my personal spank-bank!

It was a Saturday night and my girlfriend, Heather, and I were looking for some extra spice to add to our sex life. We had already experimented with pegging, where she would wear a strap-on and penetrate me anally, and it was something we both enjoyed immensely.

But that night, Heather had a devious plan up her sleeve. She convinced me to let her tie me spread-eagle, naked, and ass-up on the bed so she could peg me, promising that it would be the best experience ever. And being the trusting and adventurous boyfriend I am, I agreed.

My heart was pounding with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as Heather expertly tied me up. I could feel the tight knots against my skin, restricting my movements and leaving me completely at her mercy. The anticipation of what she had in store for me was almost unbearable. As she positioned me on the bed, placing a soft pillow under my hips and guiding my body into the perfect angle for penetration, I couldn’t help but wonder what she had planned. Little did I know, Heather had a surprise in store that would not only change our night but also have a lasting impact on my role as a submissive man.

As Heather penetrated me, the pleasure surged like a tidal wave, crashing into my body and taking over my senses. I moaned and writhed uncontrollably on the bed, lost in a haze of ecstasy. Helpless and immobilized by restraints, my body was at Heather’s mercy as she began to fuck me with her firm strapon. Her movements were slow and sensual, sending electric shocks through every nerve ending in my body as she expertly hit all the right spots. I could feel her hot breath on my skin as she whispered filthy words in my ear, telling me how good I looked spread out for her, how she owned me completely in this moment. Overwhelmed with pleasure and desire, I surrendered to her completely, feeling her breasts pressed against my back as she plunged deeper into me.

My body pulsed with anticipation as Heather whispered in my ear about a special surprise reward. My thoughts raced as I tried to imagine what it could be, but before I could fully process it, the doorbell interrupted us. A sudden wave of dread washed over me and my heart raced as Heather dismounted from my ass and left the bed. I struggled to turn my head, catching a quick glimpse of her mischievous smile as she exited the room – still naked with her strapon attached. Panic set in as I heard her greet multiple visitors at the door, my mind racing with fear and uncertainty as I struggled against the restraints holding me to the bed.

The bedroom door swung open with a loud creak, and I strained my eyes to see who was entering the room. My heart raced as Heather walked in, her strapon still clutched in her hand. Behind her were three other girls, all members of her sorority that she met up with for lunch every week. I couldn’t recall their names, but their faces were familiar. One had long, flowing hair and a peaceful aura – “The Hippie,” I silently labeled her. Another had a warm smile and kind eyes – “The Nice One,” I mentally dubbed her. And the third, well, she had an air of superiority and a sharp tongue – “The BITCH,” I thought bitterly. Panic rose within me as I realized what was happening – Heather was proudly showing off our intimate encounter to her friends. At that moment, I desperately wanted to escape from this humiliating situation. How could she do this to me?

My rage boiled over and I could no longer control the training that had been ingrained in me to submit to her. My voice rose to a deafening volume as I screamed at her, my words spewing out with a venomous bite. “What the fuck Heather? Get them out of here and untie me!” But my anger was not satisfied yet, and I unleashed a barrage of insults and expletives, each one more cutting than the last. Looking back, I am ashamed of my behavior at that moment. It was a complete abandonment of all the lessons I had learned about submission. As for Heather, I know she regrets what happened next. Her actions were fueled by her own anger, but deep down I know I deserved it. And strangely enough, that moment became a defining one in my journey toward true submissiveness.

The brutal punishments inflicted upon me, such as aggressive pegging, painful cuts, and bruises, after my outburst, made me realize something about myself: I was deeply drawn to extreme submissive BDSM and yearned to become a devoted submissive man in order to please my dominatrix.

As I reflect on this experience, I am attempting to do so through the lens of my younger self – a confused, inexperienced, and boastful young man – rather than the obedient, mature, and respectful submissive that I strive to be today. Please understand this context before continuing with my story.

After My Outburst – Immediate Punishment

As soon as my vocal cords released the last syllable of my outburst aimed at Heather’s three friends, I felt the searing impact of ten vicious lashes on my bare ass. The sharp sting of the bamboo rod tore through my flesh like a hot knife through butter. Until now, any form of corporal punishment had been a mere tantalizing foreplay between us. But this…this was something else entirely. This was pure brutality. This was excruciating agony.

I realized too late that “The Bitch” had brought the rod with her and unleashed her assault on me without a moment’s hesitation, without even a glance from Heather. My screams of pain and obscenities fell on deaf ears as she ruthlessly whipped my exposed skin, leaving angry red welts in their wake. And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, she moved to my face and yanked back my hair with a force that made tears spring to my eyes. With a malicious glint in her eye, she spoke venomously: “Shut your fucking mouth, bitch. I can make this hurt, or I can make it excruciating. The choice is yours.” Each word dripped with sadistic pleasure, promising more pain if I obeyed and pure torment if I dared to defy her.

With a fierce tug, she released my hair and I collapsed onto the mattress, gasping for air. Panic set in as I felt the searing pain of the marks on my ass, a sensation I had never known before. My eyes welled up with tears and through gritted teeth, I spat out “FUCK YOU, BITCH. LET ME GO YOU CUNTS!” But my words were cut off as Heather shoved a ball gag into my mouth, silencing me.

But this wasn’t just any gag – it was a small dildo that she mercilessly pushed down my throat until I could feel it pressing against the back of my throat. It wasn’t enough to make me gag, but it made breathing difficult and any attempts at speech futile.

As I struggled against my restraints, Heather explained that this was all part of her plan, concocted with her girlfriends to break down my resistance. She told me not to worry, promising to take care of me and urging me to just enjoy it.

But how could I enjoy this? My trust had been shattered, my body burned with pain, and I knew they were only getting started. Trapped and helpless, I realized there was no escape from their twisted desires.

The onslaught that followed was a relentless barrage of pegging, unlike the gentle and pleasurable experience I had come to expect from Heather. No, this was pure force, each woman wielding their own strapon in varying sizes. My arms were loosely bound, just enough to allow me to prop my head up so they could remove the gag and thrust their cocks down my throat. That long night, there were four specific moments etched into my memory, each one involving a different woman and their unique approach to dominating me.

“The Hippie”

The noise and chaos seemed to fade away as The Hippie and I found ourselves alone on the bed. The other women had stepped out of the bedroom to make drinks. It was The Hippie’s unkempt appearance, unshaven body, and the pungent combination of marijuana and body odor that led me to think of her nickname.

She positioned herself at the head of the bed and, with a slight tug, loosened my arm restraints enough to prop my head and chest up. Then she slid under me, placing my face directly in her crotch.

As someone who had quite a bit of experience pleasuring women, I was taken aback by a couple of firsts that occurred in that moment. This was the first time I was being forced into performing oral sex – these women were not taking “no” for an answer. And it was also the first time I encountered an unshaven pussy. The sharp tang of her unwashed body and the bristly sensation of pubic hair against my tongue caused an immediate urge to retch.

She didn’t give a damn. Her fingers clenched in my hair like a vice, yanking me deeper into her with a primal force. I attacked her with unbridled hunger, every trick and technique within my skillset employed with reckless abandon. My tongue nipped, flicked, and sucked at her most sensitive areas, but the tight grip of her hands left little room for maneuvering. Yet still, she succumbed to pleasure within minutes, unleashing a torrent of her wetness all over me. As she released my head from her hold, I pulled back, gasping for air as my mouth dripped with saliva and her essence. But even as I tried to catch my breath, there was no escaping her scent, made all the more overwhelming with her cum. The scent filled my lungs and mind with an all-consuming desire to gag.

In that moment, the other women sauntered in, their eyes lighting up with mischief and amusement as they saw my predicament. “The Bitch” commanded Heather to go over and fuck me while telling the Hippie to make me give her another orgasm. I could feel Heather’s newfound aggressiveness as she slipped into my rear entrance and started thrusting, while the Hippie grabbed my head and forced me back to pleasure her. Through it all, The Bitch stood by with a bullwhip in hand, mercilessly striking my already sore back and leaving massive welts. My focus was solely on trying to remain conscious during the brief moments of respite given to me by the Hippie. But even those were short-lived, as I was repeatedly brought back from unconsciousness by sharp slaps to the face. It was a never-ending cycle of pain and humiliation, one that left me wondering if I would ever make it out alive.

“The Nice One”

As the other women ruthlessly assaulted my body, I could always count on the woman I nicknamed “The Nice One” to be there, standing by and watching with a look of pity in her eyes. She would occasionally sneak me a drink of water when the others weren’t looking, but her most remarkable gesture was what I came to refer to as a “healing fuck.” With her strapon cock buried deep inside me, she moved with a delicate and gentle touch that reminded me of how Heather used to be before everything went wrong. While she filled me up with her massive black cock, her skilled hands reached down and tended to the wounds on my ass cheeks, back, and shoulders. The combination of pleasure and pain was overwhelming, and as she hit my prostate just right, I couldn’t hold back any longer. With a gasp, I released a powerful orgasm, coating the pillow beneath me with my release. It was an incredible experience to have her tenderly care for my damaged body while simultaneously giving me such intense pleasure.

“The Bitch”

As the “Nice One” skillfully brought me to climax with her sensual pegging, the Bitch’s icy voice cut through the air. “Did he ask permission?” she sneered. The Nice One tried to defend me, but her words fell on deaf ears. The Bitch took it upon herself to dole out punishment, her eyes ablaze with a cruel glee. She commanded the Nice One to collect the pillowcase soaked in my shameful release and beckoned Heather to remove my gag. As soon as I could gasp for air, I began to plead and apologize, but the Bitch silenced me with a flick of her wrist. Before I could protest further, she had the other women stuff the cum-soaked fabric into my mouth and resumed lashing my exposed rear with her unforgiving cane. My screams were muffled by the fabric, making my torment all the more humiliating and degrading.

The Bitch smirked as she told me my punishment – twenty lashes, each one to be counted aloud. My mind raced, panic setting in at the thought of surviving such a brutal beating. But before I could protest, the first lash fell and I was yanked back into reality. The sharp sting of her cane tore through my skin with malicious precision, landing on my ass, thighs, back and shoulders. I struggled to count through gritted teeth, trying to keep up with the relentless pace of her blows. Just when I thought I had almost made it to twenty, she unleashed a series of five excruciatingly hard strikes on my already bloody and torn flesh. My screams were uncontrollable, but meant that we were starting back at one.

This pattern continued on repeat, with each round becoming more and more excruciating. She began her onslaught earlier and earlier, determined to inflict as many blows as possible in a short amount of time. It was brutal. It made me feel small to have my girlfriend, Heather, witness such an unfair display of power. And it was disheartening to realize there was no way for me to come out on top.

Heather

After what felt like an eternity, Heather finally changed her demeanor. She leaned in close to me as I was still being mercilessly pummeled by the Bitch, who was using a flogger on my already bloody backside. Our eyes met and I saw a shift in her expression. She removed my gag and kissed me passionately for what felt like an eternity. In that moment, I didn’t even feel the Bitch’s continued assault. Heather pulled away from the kiss and commanded the Bitch to stop. Despite her hesitation, the Bitch eventually relented. Heather thanked her friends and suggested they move to our living room for drinks. Once we were alone, she untied me and pulled me into a warm embrace. My body was covered in bruises and blood, and I was a mess of slobber and tears. The first words out of my mouth were an apology for getting my mess on her.

Reflecting on that night, I am amazed at how far Heather pushed me. I went into the evening thinking I knew everything about submission but left truly transformed into a submissive man. Though there was still much training to come, that night was a turning point where I discovered my true desires and was willing to do anything to achieve them.

Heather and I have both grown since that night. Our relationship continued for about a year, during which she continued to train me, and for that, I will always be grateful. While she may feel remorseful about her approach now, I believe it was necessary for my growth. And while it’s great that she has found other methods of training submissives, I don’t think I would be the person I am today if it weren’t for that intense initiation session.

Sincerely,

Ryan