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.