She sat there, hands on Her thighs, looking down on me. She pressed down hard on my arms with Her legs, Her crotch resting on my chin. I was completely beaten and helpless. She could hold me there for as long as She wanted and there was nothing I could do about it. The Female Domination palette is dazzlingly beautiful and yet I would trade it all for the Schoolgirl-Pin. It’s so powerful and so mesmerising. It’s a never-ending love-song really, and a treasure each picture like a priceless artefact. And the Schoolgirl-Pin opens the door to so much more, doesn’t it. She can smother you into a red herring, drown you in spit, slap you unconscious, remove your hair while She’s at it, tickle you to death or play pool with your balls. So to me the Schoolgirl-Pin is the most glorious, victorious and powerful humiliation ever. Priceless!
Tom and I were walking down the street when we bumped into a dark-haired Girl. We were fourteen years old or so and She was a few years younger. “Look who we’ve got here,” She said. “Wanna fight, Tom? Come on, sissy, let’s fight.” It stopped Tom in his tracks and he looked mighty scared all of a sudden. I grinned, because I had no idea what was going on here. Her fury came without warning and She charged at me like a bull. She literally ran me over and I went down with a high-pitched scream. She grabbed my hair with Her left hand, rammed Her knee on my throat and punched me repeatedly in the stomach with Her right fist. Her eyes lashed out at Tom. “Sit down!” He fell down on his ass, like an uppercut boxer. I tried to fight my way out, but She almost choked me with Her knee. She pulled me up by my hair and grabbed Tom’s scalp in the process. And there we were: two brave young lads, helpless and on our knees. Unforgettable!
“I deeply apologise,” he sobbed. His arms waved through the air like sails of a windmill. His head was trapped between Her legs and She could clearly see the despair in his eyes. She loved to see him like this, so helpless, so scared. He whimpered: “please don’t choke me to death.” She laughed. “Famous last words, uh?” His eyes nearly popped out of his head as panic drenched his voice: “I will do whatever You want.” She smirked and said: “I know you will, buttercup, but for how long, that’s the question.” He didn’t think (he seldom did, as a matter of fact): “a week!” She frowned and anger slipped into Her eyes. “One stupid week? Are you serious?” He panicked: “a month!” She shook Her head and tapped Her finger on his forehead with each and every word: “do you know what I think, pumpkin? I think you should sleep on it for a while.” She took a squeeze at him and his cries for mercy slipped away into darkness.
It sounds almost idyllic, doesn’t it. Like a lovely Asian Garden where people meditate in peace. Yeah well, screw all that: the lotus lock is in fact an extremely painful hold. True story: it was summer and my former Girlfriend and I were sunbathing in the park. I can’t remember what I said, but it must have been something cheeky, because seconds later She was sitting on my back, holding me in a lotus lock. I didn’t ask for mercy, I screamed on top of my lungs. I’m sure everyone within a 25 mile radius heard me. Because I was genuinely scared She would dislocate my arms without realising it. Thankfully She loosened Her grip a bit and laughed: “Quite comfortable, isn’t it?” HELL NO!! “Yes, yes,” I whimpered. She kept me in this agonising position for half an hour, forcing me to beg, graze like a cow and She even “persuaded” me to sing a song. Which turned out to be far more effective than any rain dance, by the way. How She loved to be in pole position! God knows why I didn’t ask Her to marry me there and then.
Let’s face it: we’re just a bunch a horny lemmings, eagerly ready to throw ourselves of the cliffs into the Femdom trap. That’s the reason why I love mixed wrestling so much, because it’s the closest we can get to forced submission. And who better to force us than the gorgeous Lia Labowe. She’s such a skilful, strong and ruthless fighter and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t stand a chance against Her. I’m not saying that because I admire Her, but I honestly think it’s true. Still, I would ask Her to do Her worst, although I think you don’t have to ask for that; it comes with the package. As one of Her male opponents once wrote: “I had lost all strength in my arms from fighting back against her considerable strength, I was forced to lie back and take it as she planted her backside on my face. I’m sure it looked to all the world like I wasn’t trying at all.” What a Lady!
Megandom.com is an archive site now and will not be updated anymore 🙁
My personal trainer (aka Wild Bull) showed me the difference between the uppercut and the lower end, between knocked out and knocked up. I worked on my technique, ran like a rabbit and went on a diet. So I was ready to crumble that day. My opponent was a good looking Lady called Demolitia. Silly name, I thought. When the bell rang for the 1st round I came at Her like a madman. She was quicker than a slimly eel in a bucket of snot, so I knocked out some air without ever hitting Her. Her first punch felt like being run over by a freight train. A long one. She could’ve finished the match there and then, but She didn’t. She wanted me to suffer. So I had several close encounters with the canvas, but Her punches were hard enough to knock me down, not out. She took me up to three hammering and humiliating rounds, then She got tired of me. She landed a devastating uppercut on my chin and it was all starry, starry night after that. She put Her foot on my head in a victory pose and the crowd went crazy. What a knock-out!
I’ve been a dedicated follower of Kick Ass Kandy right from the start. The creators really love with their doing and you can almost feel the energy, the fun and the pleasure of that in each shoot. They rehears each scene in detail, which means the Girls don’t have to look at someone behind the camera for guidance all the time. What a relief! Way too many Femdom sites don’t care if their leading Lady looks like a blundering amateur, but thank God Kick Ass Kandy does care. They honour their Ladies and they want them to star and look perfect. The site is all about beating the crap out of guys, which in itself is a soaking wet dream come true. It’s all staged of course, plain fun, with the appropriate kick and punch sounds. Their Ass Kickers are incredibly sexy and skilled, and Girls like Ella Maria Palfrey (Hi-Kix) and Sasha Jackson (AJ) really take your breath away. And your teeth, if you mess with them.
I mean look at Her. Young, petit…and yet She puts all these guys to sleep. Big, small, long, tall: She takes them all. Well, I’m not buying it, that’s for sure. I mean, I may be a moron, but I’m not an idiot. It’s probably a new episode of Just For Laughs and soon we’ll all look like gullible idiots on national television. Damned silly if you ask me. There’s only one way to deal with this kinda nonsense and that’s to call Her bluff. And there I am, in front of all these people, sitting on a chair with the Girl right behind me. She’s quite an actress, I give Her that. Surely She knows the game is up, and yet She puts Her arm around my throat as if I’m a trusted accomplice. She wants to die with Her boots on, I guess, although She’s wearing sneakers. And then – all of sudden – the choke is on. Her grip is immensely powerful and I’m desperately struggling for oxygen. Her grip tightens and my head is about to explode. I..I..can’t..brea..the..I..ca..n’t…zzzzzz
As said before, Female Domination is more than whips, canes or playing pool with your nuts. I love the little, almost insignificant things as well. Take the victory pose for example. It’s such a simple, but at the same time such a powerful statement. And so humiliating for the victim! One foot is enough to keep him pinned to the ground. One foot that tells the whole story of Female Power and male weakness. True, the victory pose is closely related to mixed fighting and such, but that doesn’t mean Mistresses can’t use it as well. Take picture number nine for example. That’s not just a snapshot, that’s a piece of art! The slave is battered, bruised and broken and the victory pose of that Mistress is so powerful. One foot, that’s all it takes, just one foot.
Having a leg-fetish from here to Tokyo and back, means I love head-scissors as well. It’s amazing to see how powerful legs can be, even untrained legs. There’s an unwritten law that says there’s no way out once a Lady locks Her ankles together. The trap snaps shut and She can pretty much keep you there for as long She wants. It’s like being hugged by a Anaconda they say, and even a professional escape artist can’t get out. I always believed it was a myth of some sorts until I ended up in a leggy lockdown myself one day. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get out. It was overwhelming, embarrassing, humiliating and extremely exiting at the same time. My poor empty head looked like a jawbreaker, turning from orange to red to purple. So here’s to Scissor-Foxes, Scissor-Vixens, Dunefeet and all the other sites that celebrate the beauty of the head-scissors.
The Lady behind the bar served me my drink and gave me a card. Welcome to The Arm Bar it said. Underneath were some extraordinary puzzling things, like: Single Arm Bar, Single Double Arm Bar and Duo Double Arm Bar. All with the numbers 15-30-45-60 printed behind them. I had no idea what it all meant, but I didn’t want to look like an idiot, so I went for the Duo Double 60. Whatever that might be. A cocktail perhaps? I had to go upstairs, where two lovely Ladies told me to lay down and relax. A massage! Why didn’t I think of that before! Sixteen seconds later my arms were tightly locked in an armbar (aha!). The pain was excruciating, it really was. I screamed like a pig with an ulcer, but they kept me barred in agony for an hour. When I went home that night I looked like Frankenstein, unable to raise my arms and mumbling gibberish. Awesome!
It’s quite a sobering day, when you realise that your Girlfriend is physically stronger than you. It happened to me a long time ago, in a time when my submissive feelings were still a big secret. I was living with Selma at the time, who was half-Asian, slim and much smaller than me. She didn’t shy away from a playful fight though. I absolutely loved it and I didn’t put much up a fight at first. It took quite some time and a long series of humiliating losses to realise that it didn’t make any difference whether or not I gave it my very best. She was too quick, too ferocious and always extremely ruthless. Although I had been dreaming and fantasising about this for ages, deep down I was still convinced that it would take a tough, well-trained Lady to pull it off. Call it the last remainders of male arrogance and male ignorance, if you like. Selma came and went without knowing anything about my submissive feelings, but She opened my eyes and made me see the truth about the weaker sex. Bless Her!