Amazonian Muscle Goddess’ Slave Houseboy

Enslaved by Amazonian Muscle Goddess

SexyLark aka Tasha Commissioned for Femdomous.

Valasca had a special arrangement with the gym’s manager. He let her in early. Unwatched, she could lift weights in the nude.

Unencumbered by clothes, undistracted by ogling men, she could focus on form. An hour of useful solitude made her ready to cope with whatever the new day might bring.

Jon learned of her special gym time. He snuck in. Hiding in a corner, he masturbated watching her doing deadlifts.

She paused between sets. There was no background noise to hide Jon’s heavy breathing.

Valasca easily spotted the hidden snooper. As swift as strong, she grabbed Jon by the neck and held him aloft.

She laughed at his stubby little penis. His erection died of shame.

He feared she would bash him with a dumbbell. Valasca waved it just to frighten him.

“So, you like my body? You like strong women?”

Tongue paralyzed, Jon nodded yes.

“You want to have sex with me?”

“Yes,” it was a whisper.

“You want to come home with me?”

Trembling, he nodded vigorously.

“Get dressed.”

Both quickly pulled on shorts and t-shirts.

Valasca led him out the rear door to her car.

“Get in.”

He had to calm himself to open the door. His seeming incompetence embarrassed Jon.

“I bet you fantasize about Amazons. Did you know I am named after an Amazon warrior queen?”

Still tongue-tied, he shook his head.

“She right men’s right eyes and thumbs.” She laughed.

“But they were strong, brave men. I don’t need to mutilate you, do I.”

Terrified he said no. He knew he was a wimp.

“I like weak men.”

Not knowing what to say, Jon felt confused gratitude.

“Come on,” she chastised Jon who hesitated at her doorstep.

Impatient, Valasca grabbed his shoulder, yanked him inside.

She sat on a couch.

“Strip.” It was a command.

John obeyed, shamed that she saw his weakling’s body.

“That little penis can’t be of much use to any woman. I bet you are a virgin.”

His red face confirmed her guess.

“But first I need to …”

Valasca grabbed his blond hair, pulled him over her lap.

“… punish you for being a peeping tom.”

She spanked him. He strength made him feel that she was spanking him with a paddle.

He wept. Begged.

Ignoring his pleas, she continued his punishment.

She threw him to the floor.

Quickly pulling off her pants and shirt, Valasca pulled him between her thighs.

He did nothing. She pulled him away. Slapped him.

“Your tongue, stupid.”

He had no skill but desperation gave his tongue force. Stimulated more by his tears than tongue, Valasca orgasmed.

She ordered Jon to the kitchen.

“Make me a pot of coffee.”

Luckily French press, grinder and beans were on the counter. She drank it black.

“Call your boss. Tell him you quit your job.”

His baffled expression angered her.

“You want another spanking.”

His buttocks were still on fire.

Jon worked as a clerk. He made only minimum wage. His boss did not care. Only a cog in a machine, he could easily replace Jon.

“You work for me now.”

His face was a question.

“You are my new houseboy.”

His face brightened.

“My new slave.”

She opened a door.

“Come here so I can put on your chastity device.”

Valasca is a strict Mistress. She spanks him daily. Often, just because he is a man. She is a female supremacist. But only in her personal relationships.

She has many girlfriends. They all enjoy humiliating Jon. Female cruelty is staple of his life as a muscle goddess’ slave.

He hopes it never ends.

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