Young Dommes really lived up to its name, because the site was all about young, dominant Girls. They showed us the future of Femdom and the next generation of Mistresses. I know, it takes an overdose of fantasy or a crazy amount of alcohol to actually believe in that, but I’ve always tried to see it that way. Call me a romantic, but in a way it’s true, isn’t it: today’s Mistresses will be gone tomorrow and a new generation will step in. So I’ve always enjoyed the young Femdom sites, fanciful as their content may be. Young Dommes had it’s pros, but it certainly had it’s cons as well. But that’s all water under the bridge now, because the site closed its doors for good. So here’s to Young Dommes (and Her sister site: Class 5B), for giving us a glimpse of the future.
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!
The Mistress was in the best of moods. I made a stupid mistake earlier that day, but She brushed it away with a “don’t worry about it slave, mistakes happen.” She was probably coming down with something, there was no other explanation. Anyway, I got a little bit carried away by it all and later that day I made a very funny (well….) remark. She frowned and ordered me to stand in the corner. I laughed, because I honestly thought She was tickling my balls. But Her stone cold look shredded my laughter to pieces and I hurried to the corner. “Don’t move a muscle,” She snapped. Now, this was a humiliating, harmless and childish punishment, and yet I was leaking like a punctured drainpipe. I stood there several hours and it really humbled me beyond words. I was a cheeky slave when I went over there, but what came out of that corner was a very timid, little man.