Wicked Game is a FemDom novel of slow and gentle domination with a different ending.
George was a nerd. A little plump, balding and with a nervous stammer but he was successful in his work. His life was solitary until he met Pam. Younger and sexy, she seemed to be able to tap directly into George’s fantasies until she could wrap him around her little finger!
Then, George found he was willingly doing things that he once would have considered perverted.
Little by little, step by step, Pam escalated her control until the trap closed.
And then, George was faced with a choice!(30,219 words)
In the beginning, it was a game. Nothing more than that, just a game. A little bit kinky, perhaps, and incredibly sexy for me but still a game.
Or, so I thought.
When Pam and I had met, I could not believe my good fortune. She was ten years younger than I was, blonde, buxom and beautiful with a wicked sense of humour.
A mutual friend introduced us at a party. She impressed me immediately with her sense of humour and, of course, her overt sexuality and beauty.
I had wondered how I would gather the courage to call such a beautiful woman and ask for a date.
Surprisingly, she called me!
That was astounding and when she coyly apologied for being so direct and asked me to accompany her to a picnic, I was overjoyed.
We began to go out a few times and on our third date – a picnic in the park – after a few glasses of wine, I had asked her what she saw in me.
‘Yes. Why would a wom…woman like you go out with a bloke like me?’
Pam had frowned and said, ‘I like you. You’re witty…’
‘But not handsome…’
‘I think you are very attractive and you make me laugh. You also make me feel safe.’
‘Yes and that’s important for a girl.’
I stared at the ducks on the nearby pond and wondered if she was laughing at me.
‘Did…did you know that…that I’m wealthy?’
Pam frowned again. ‘Money doesn’t mean anything to me, George. And, to answer your question, I did not know. You know,’ she said stiffly, moving away from me, ‘I think you’ve insulted me.’
‘It sounded like it!’ Pam sniffed. ‘Do you know how wealthy I am?’
‘Would it matter to you if I was a gazillionaire or as poor as a church mouse?’
‘No, no, of course not…’
‘Then, it’s the same for me!’
‘I…I was just telling you about myself. I…I like you…like you a lot.’
‘And I like you, George,’ Pam said, kissing me lightly.
Her perfume and the pressure of her breasts against my chest made my cock go into overdrive.
As we kissed, I hoped she wouldn’t notice the erection forming a tent in my shorts.
A big smile appeared on Pam’s face when she saw the bulge.
‘Oh George,’ Pam gushed, ‘what a sweet compliment!’
Blushing, I stuttered and stammered while Pam giggled.
‘George,’ she said softly, plump cherry red lips nibbling my ear, ‘have you had a lot of girlfriends?’
‘I think you’re telling a fib. An attractive man like you? You must have had millions of girlfriends!’ Pam teased.
‘No…no…really! I haven’t. Girls haven’t been that interested in me and…I…I’ve focussed on work…’
‘All work and no play is not good for you, George,’ Pam said as her fingers “accidentally” brushed the tent in my shorts.
Gulping, as an erotic shudder passed through me, I nervously glanced around the park to see if anyone was watching.
‘You’re sweet, George,’ Pam murmured, kissing my throat.
I shivered and shuddered.
She nibbled on my ear and her hand accidentally brushed the bulge in my shorts.
She moved away a little and smiled at me, her fun and something else dancing in her eyes.
‘What is it, George? Don’t you like kissing?’
She frowned at me for a second before the frown vanished and was replaced by a broad, knowing smile.
‘Oh! I understand!’
Pam leaned close and whispered huskily in my ear, ‘you don’t want to spurt in your shorts, do you?’
Her lips were so close, her breath brushed my inner ear.
Face red-hot and my body trembling as I shuddered on the edge of the humiliating embarrassment of coming in my shorts from just kissing her, I managed to nod my head.
Pam sat back and crossed her legs, providing a quick glimpse of white panties and long legs.
‘I understand, George,’ she giggled, ‘and I don’t want to embarrass you. But,’ she said, wiggling a chicken drumstick at me, ‘you are the sweetest man I know!’