Story 2: Submissive Feminist

Chapter 12:

Feminist rantings? Ha! Ms. Morality's insult backfired. I have always thought of myself as a feminist. It felt particularly good that other's associated me with feminism as well. I rode on a particular high for the rest of the day.

I may have even been humming as I began my night's reading assignment, crouched naked, cuffed and gagged, in my small cage.

As fate would have it though, the story was about a female law student with a brilliant future who is brainwashed somehow to disregard the promise of her future in order to be a man's sex toy. I was disgusted! The feminist in me was furious. But as I continued reading and the woman assumed more and more submissive tendencies, I began to feel a stirring of arousal.

It was the realization of that stirring that sent me on a downward spiral into depression.

After all, how can I be a feminist? A feminist is supposed to hold her power and say, "Hey world, here I am! I can do anything!" I, on the other hand, am a complete submissive, eagerly seeking ways to give up my power to others. I'm like the poster child for anti-feminism. If someone wanted to prove by example that a woman needs someone to take care of her. I'd be the first person pointed to. Look at the shambles of my life on my own. I live in a sad, barren apartment only slightly bigger than my cage. I can't even drive. Half my bills are paid late due to incompetent accounting practices. I only feel like I thrive when I feel like someone else controls me. I'm sick. I'm depressed.

After my nightly lashings, I filled my cage with the muffled sound of murmuring sobs and tears far into the night.

Eventually I slept and dreamt of Laysan. We smiled at each other. She pointed at herself, then gently lay her hand on her breast over her heart. Next she pointed at me, smiling.

"I love you, too!" I wanted to say, but I realized that I had that damn ball in my mouth and I couldn't talk. I quickly replayed the same series of gestures that she had. She had the most amazing smile on her face. My heart was melting.

Laysan grabbed my hand and placed it on her nude, shaven crotch. Her skin was hot and buzzing like a compressor on high one room away. I was suddenly suited with a corset of arousal that squeezed the breath from my chest in a muffled grunt. My body began to throb with need and anticipation. Laysan beckoned for me to follow her and began to walk away. I tried to stand from the chair I was in, but realized that I was chained to it. I tried to push myself along in the chair, but this one didn't have wheels and didn't budge a bit.

"Wait!" I wanted to scream, but couldn't. Laysan looked back at me seemingly confused as to why I wasn't following. I struggled with the chains that held me fast and Mmmpfd! into my gag. Laysan frowned, shrugged her shoulders and resumed walking away.

"Wait! Laysan! I need you! Help me!!!"