The Soft Option

The Soft Option — part one of White Collar Crime, Slave Collar Punishment, a femdom fantasy in three parts — is now available in the Amazon Kindle Store. See also parts two, Worse Than Prison and three, No Escape.

A young man caught defrauding his firm by his older female boss thinks he has chosen the soft option when she offers to deal with his crime herself rather than calling in the police. But all too soon he is forced to revise ihis opinion…

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or read some more first:

Now he stood stark naked before her.  There was disdainful amusement in her eyes.

“Stop slouching.  Stand to attention while I’m speaking to you!”

He straightened up, put his arms straight by his sides.  Her cold, blue eyes wandered over him, callous and indifferent.

Nigel realised that he was afraid of this woman.  And, he thought with a sinking feeling, it definitely wasn’t a bit of “how’s your father” that interested her.  Her eyes alone made that very clear.

“I’ll have you know, Cuthbertson,” she said, “that I don’t like men.”

He could feel the goose-pimples rise on his skin.  What was she going to do to him? He felt so damned vulnerable, standing there starkers in front of her.  What should he say? Anything?

“S-sorry…” he muttered.

“Don’t be sorry, you great ninny! I enjoy not liking men.” She smiled — but only with her wide painted mouth; her eyes were cold.  “As a matter of fact, I eat boys for breakfast.  Boys like you…”

Nigel had a sudden sense of dread.  This woman was something else entirely.  He’d heard of this sadistic stuff, dominas and chains and whips and so on.  But surely it was just for the sad old dirty mac brigade, leafing through porno mags in grotty shops in Soho; and for kinky MPs who paid loads of cash to have their backsides whipped by leather-clad call-girls.  It didn’t go on in ordinary life, did it? With respectable businesswomen like this? Nigel began to feel the fear of uncertainty, of really not knowing what would happen next.  Was he in the hands of a mad woman?

“Wh-what are you going to d-do?” he stammered.

Ms Forbes’s wide mouth broke into a smile.  “Do?” she chortled. “Nothing.  It is you who are going to do the doing.”

“I… I don’t understand…”

Ms Forbes sat suddenly erect, a freezing look on her features.

“Then listen while I make you understand! You are now my prisoner.  You will being staying here for the whole weekend.  Maybe longer, if I so decide.  You are going to obey every order I give you. If you do not, you will suffer for it.  Putting it shortly, you are my slave!”

Nigel felt shocked and numb.  “S-slave?” he queried.

Her lip curled.

“You know the meaning of the word, I suppose?”

“Yes… yes… of course I do…”

“Well then you’ll know that a slave is a person who is owned.  Who is used.  Who obeys his owner.  Who is punished if he does not.  That is you from this moment on, Cuthbertson.  It is the price you are paying for your crimes.  Understood?”

“Yes… yes… I suppose so…” Nigel’s throat was dry; he felt a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach; he was scared out of his skin. This formidable woman meant what she said.  No doubt about it.

“From now on you will address me as ‘Mistress’,” she said, standing back.  “Got that?”