I’ve written a lot of FemDom stories, but only a few on the theme of MaleDom. When I wrote “The Slow Seduction of Claire MacDonald” I’d intended it to be a fairly mild story. But the alternating timeline, with the Rebecca thread, got really quite heavy.
So with this story I really did set out to do something milder. As you’ll see, Nick discovers that one of his female work colleagues is into submissive behavior. He’s not into S&M at all, until he sees the marks on Magda’s body from a sessions she took part in at an S&M club.
Right now this is all I have of this story, and I hope it’s enough to get you interested. It seems like a nice plot line to progress. So perhaps I’ll be motivated to finish it.
“So how did you get the bruise on your face?” I asked as I entered the changes she’d worked on into the website. I wanted to show her how to do it herself, but now clearly wasn’t the time.
“I…opened a cupboard and hit myself. It was stupid of me,” she answered.
I nodded without commenting. OK…if she wanted to lie to me that was fine. There…I’d finished the changes and saved the file. It would only take a minute or so to test it.
“You think I’m lying?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I know you’re lying…but I realize it’s none of my business.”
“It was a door!” she said more firmly. “In the bathroom. I was tired this morning and…I was careless.”
The page was running correctly. I sighed and turned to her.
“Magda…if your boyfriend hit you…don’t feel you’re alone. Do you need help? Somewhere to stay? I’ve got a spare room in my apartment. It’s full of junk but we could clear it in…”
“I do not need any help!” she said, becoming visibly upset now.
I spread my hands and smiled as calmly as I could…the thought of somebody knocking her about was making my blood boil but Magda was from the Czech republic and I knew the customs were different there. But she was here working in London, and as far as I was concerned she deserved the same respect as anyone else.
“Hey…I’m sorry. It was my mistake – there’s no need to get upset. Look; the page is working fine. It’s after six o’clock…can I buy you a coffee?”
She looked at me for several seconds. Then she closed her eyes and sighed deeply.
“I’m sorry, Nick. It was kind of you to be worried about me. It’s honestly not what you think…I don’t even have a boyfriend!”
You kicked him out for hitting you…I thought to myself hopefully. I knew the story about the door was a lie – I could actually see the faint marks of fingers on her skin. Some bastard had hit her – and pretty hard too.
Ten minutes later we’d given up on the idea of coffee and had adjourned to the pub. Magda was sipping a large glass of Sauvignon Blanc, and I was drinking a pint of bitter. They had three or four nice beers on tap here. I’d completely changed the subject and we’d talked about our respective home towns. Mine was Liverpool and hers was Prague. She’d moved to the UK when she was fourteen because of her father’s work – that was why her English was so good, I supposed.
“You should try Czech beer!” she chuckled. Her blue eyes were twinkling with happiness as she told me about the first time she got drunk with some school friends. I told her about my first time too.
“It was really in the Cavern Club?” she gasped. “Where the Beatles played?”
“Well…it’s not the same club. I think they tore down the building where the original club was. But we try not to mention that to the tourists!” I chuckled. “Another drink?”
“You are trying to get me drunk?” she asked, smiling.
“No…I just feel like a drink. It’s Friday, after all. Should we order some food? That way we can avoid getting sloshed.”
She agreed and I gave the order when I bought the next round. Magda had insisted on buying the first one as a thank you for me fixing her web pages.
We just seemed to click somehow…enjoying each other’s company and maybe just needing to relax after a hard week at work.
Since my apartment was close to the office I offered to let her stay the night. I insisted that she sleep in my bed while I slept on the sofa. I instinctively knew she wasn’t in a sexual mood and kept the whole thing totally chaste. Magda seemed quite relieved that I didn’t try anything. I’d loaned her one of my T-shirts for her to sleep in and when I saw how cute she looked in the baggy garment I almost made a pass at her. But I liked and respected her far too much to try anything – maybe when she’d recovered from her break-up I could ask her out properly.
The sofa was only just big enough for me to sleep. But I was exhausted – and soon drifted off. At some point I woke up, desperate to take a piss. I stumbled to the bathroom – I’d left the light on to help Magda find it. The door was ajar so I assumed it was empty but when I opened it I saw her…standing in front of the mirror…naked.
My jaw dropped – not because she was undressed – it was the pattern of red marks across her back, her buttocks and even her breasts that stunned me.
“Shit!” she gasped, and scrabbled for the T-shirt. She held it up in front of her.
“What the fuck…Magda…what happened to you?” I asked in astonishment.
“Please go!” she cried, almost sobbing.
“I…need to go to the toilet,” I said, sounding like an idiot. “I really need to go.”
“Then turn around!”
“Oh…yes, sorry!” I looked away while she slipped the T-shirt over her head. Then she slipped past me and went back to my bedroom. She didn’t slam the door behind her, but she might as well have.
When I’d emptied my bladder I was able to think again. I washed my hands, walked to my bedroom door and tapped on it gently.
“Magda…are you OK?” I asked.
“Please go!” she sobbed.
“No…I’m not going to ignore what I saw. Who did that to you?”
“Then I will go! I will leave now!”
“That’s crazy – it’s,” I checked my watch. “Jesus; it’s three o’clock in the morning. Please…talk to me. Was it your boyfriend who did it? I know it’s embarrassing but we can go to the police…I can be there with you if you want.”
The door opened and I saw she was crying.
“Nick…I know you mean well, but this is a private thing. You are a very nice guy…will you please just leave me alone? It is late…we both need to sleep.”
I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “If that’s really what you want…then OK. But you weren’t sleeping, Magda…you’re in pain, I suspect. Can I at least get you some tablets…I have Tylenol.”
She screwed her eyes up and two fat tears slipped down her cheeks. Then she nodded.
“Yes…please, Nick…you’re very kind.”
“I’ll get them…and a glass of water. Would you like some cocoa or warm milk to help you sleep?”
For a second I thought she was going to yell at me, but her face crumpled and she stepped into my arms. Her body heaved with her sobbing as I tried not to hold her too tightly – I didn’t want to hurt her.
“I would love some milk…thank you,” she whispered.
I led her back into the bedroom and helped her into bed.
“I’ll be back with the tablets…and I’ll put the milk on to warm up,” I whispered. On a whim I kissed her gently on the forehead and she squeezed my hand as she smiled at me.
I made two cups of warm milk, and I added a couple of spoons of sugar because somewhere in my mind was that sweet drinks were good for situations like this.
“Will you stay with me while I drink it?” she asked when I brought back the cups. I’d already brought the tablets while the milk was heating, and I’d slipped into some jogging bottoms and a T-shirt instead of just my boxers. I perched on the edge of the bed and nodded.
“If you like…are you OK?”
“I’m fine…really this is not what you think. I wasn’t beaten up.”
I tried to keep my expression neutral. “OK…if you say so,” I said quietly.
She sipped the milk and smiled. “This is good!”
“It’ll help you sleep,” I told her.
We sipped our drinks in silence for a few minutes.
“It was at a club,” Magda said all at once. “A sort of…sex club.”
It really wasn’t the kind of thing I expected her to say. Magda had always been such a sweet, beautiful girl around the office. I respected her intelligence and her work ethic – but the idea of her being in some kind of sex club was…really quite bizarre.
“A…sex club? But…you’re covered in…are they whip marks?” I asked carefully.
She nodded. “Have you heard of BDSM?”
“Err…no,” I said, feeling rather stupid. I wasn’t exactly a saint when it came to sex. I enjoyed a lot of kinky stuff…but what did BDSM mean? Suddenly I had an inspiration.
“Wait…does the SM mean sadomasochism?” I asked. “Like S&M?”
“Yes…Bondage, Domination and Sadomasochism,” she explained. “BDSM.”
“Shit…are you into that sort of thing then?”
“I…I always fantasized about it,” she said, blushing. “I often ask my boyfriends to…to be a bit rough with me.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t your boyfriend that did this!” I said, feeling the anger rising again.
“It wasn’t…it was…well…I sort of volunteered to be part of a show,” she told me. “I’m not in a relationship right now…so I went to the club as a guest…a submissive. I put my name down to be part of the live stage act.”
“Jesus,” I said softly. “And…they whipped you?”
She nodded. “There was other stuff first…and I was really, really turned on; more than I’ve ever been before! The Dom…the man who beat me…he told me how to let him know if I was…really being hurt. It’s called a safeword.”
“And…did you tell him?”
She sighed. “I was just…so excited…so…energized. I let him slap me in the face. That’s what the bruises are…I didn’t bang it on a door.”
“I never thought you did,” I said softly.
“I know…and I’m sorry I lied to you.”
“And when he whipped you…was that exciting too?”
“You have no idea!” she sobbed. I took the mug from her hands and put it on the bedside table.
“Hey…don’t cry!” I told her, taking her hand and squeezing it gently.
“It was only after he’d whipped me that I realized I’d gone too far. He was the one who stopped the session…I was just too embarrassed to say anything.”
“Magda…would you like me to take you to the hospital? I didn’t see the marks properly…did he break the skin? Could you be getting an infection?”
I placed my hand on her forehead, but she didn’t feel unusually hot.
“N…no, I don’t think so,” she said, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. I reached over and passed her a box of Kleenex. “Thank you,” she said before she blew her nose.
I stroked her hair gently. God; she was so beautiful.
“Tell me what you need, Magda…I hate to see you upset like this.”
She blew her nose again, and dabbed the tears from her eyes before answering.
“Would you…sleep with me?” she asked. “Not that way…just so that I don’t have to be alone.”
I thought about that for a few seconds. “If that’s what you want…of course. You don’t need to worry, sweetheart…I’m not going to touch you that way. I’ll give you a cuddle if that’s OK, because I think you need to be with somebody. But I’ll stay dressed like this…you’ll be safe.”
I could tell she was too emotional to answer, and so I switched off the lights in the hallway and then slipped into bed next to her. She snuggled into my arms and hugged me.
“You’re such a good friend,” she whispered. “I’m sorry if this is…difficult for you.”
“Magda…just relax and get some sleep. I’ll make you a lovely breakfast tomorrow and you can sleep late. Let’s get you feeling better as soon as we can, OK?”
She looked up into my eyes. I could see her face in the soft light that was filtering in through the drapes.
“Thank you, Nick…thank you so much!”
To my amazement she fell asleep in seconds. I lay there holding her as gently as I could – hoping she wouldn’t have noticed my erection. Maybe that’s what she’d meant about it being difficult – there was certainly something appealing about a vulnerable young woman; especially one as beautiful as Magda.
The next day I insisted on waiting on her, and I kept an eye on her temperature just in case some kind of infection was brewing inside her; but she seemed fine. After a light lunch she kissed me goodbye and went home. We hadn’t discussed her injuries any more, but I couldn’t wipe the image of her beautiful body covered in those marks from my mind. Why was I feeling so aroused about her being so badly hurt?
For the next week we didn’t mention it. Magda was already recovering, and it was good to see the sparkle in her eye again. On the Thursday I asked her if she’d like to go out to see a show over the weekend. She gave me a dazzling smile as she accepted, and agreed we’d try to pick up tickets from one of the discount booths. Both of us wanted to see Wicked, and we were lucky enough to get reasonable seats for Saturday night.
Over the next few days we went out together almost every night. Neither of us mentioned Magda’s injuries, and for my part I felt rather hesitant about finding out more of her secrets. I was still feeling guilty at being aroused when I saw how badly she’d been hurt – even though I told myself it was something that excited her.
The following Friday there was a party for one of the guys who was leaving the company. Magda and I both seemed to have too much to drink, and we ended up back in my apartment together at about eleven o’clock in the evening, feeling very tipsy indeed. I suggested we both have glasses of water, and Magda agreed.
“Remember the last time I was here?” she asked as we stood in the kitchen drinking.
“Of course…I assume you’re OK now – fully recovered, I mean.”
“I am, thanks to you,” she told me. “The physical injuries were…trivial. But I think I needed a friend more than anything else – and that’s what you’ve been to me, Nick. Thank you.”
“I was being selfish,” I told her. “Being with you is really great – really great. You don’t have to thank me.”
She put her glass down and stepped in front of me. “When we were in bed I could feel how hard you were…did you want to make love to me?”
“I was aroused because I was next to a stunningly beautiful woman who I happen to like a lot,” I said, trying not to slur my words. “But even I knew that the last think you needed was sex. You needed to know somebody was there for you.”
She stepped closer still – her lips were almost brushing mine.
“And you were there for me…that was so lovely,” she whispered. I could feel her breath on my lips…why was I holding back? Was I afraid that my dark side might take advantage of this gorgeous, vulnerable girl? I took a deep breath and closed the gap between us.
Her lips were soft, but her kiss was firm, not some weak, rubbery response that some women seemed to think was fashionable. I slipped my hands around her and drew her close. She sighed as we continued to kiss, and I looked into her lovely blue eyes.