Mistress Cruel Love (Non-Futa, Femdom, BBW, Light BDSM, Feminization, Humor, Surreal)

Mistress Cruel Love

Chapter 1 - How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love Femdom

It was a cool spring day as Darius strode down the poorly maintained city sidewalk. Cars whizzed by on the busy street, kicking up gusts of chilly air that made him grateful he'd pulled the windbreaker over his lean torso before leaving home. His jeans and work boots kept him warm enough, though he was starting to wish he'd grabbed a hat on the way out.

The wind chilled the bare flesh of his scalp in between Darius' corn rows. His long, thin braids trailed neatly down the back of his head, dangling behind him and to both sides of his upper chest. He enjoyed the “tough guy” look the style afforded him. If he was honest, it was also a way to compensate for his barely average height. Regardless, he made sure the braids were well groomed at all times. It was hard enough for a black man to get ahead in the world without creating obstacles for himself and he considered a neat appearance to be paramount.

After high school Darius had immediately moved on to trade school where he got a thorough education in welding. It had been several years since he earned his certification and his career was starting to pay dividends. He wasn't yet making enough money for he and his girlfriend to get their own place, but with the annual raises and bonuses he was receiving, moving up the social ladder wasn't too far in their future.

“Hey! Slow down!”

Darius looked back to see his girlfriend, Heather, thumbing through her phone with an annoyed look on her face.

“Sorry baby” he said while waiting for her to catch up. “You know how I get into my stride!”

She lowered the phone as she closed in on him, scowling at his antics. “Yeah? Well it's rude. Not to mention patriarchal. Don't keep walking ahead of me.”

“Patriarchal? The hell that supposed to mean?”

The tall young woman put her hands on her wide hips and looked down at him. “It means you're being an ASS. Either stay by my side or walk behind me!”

“Walk behind you? Wouldn't that be... matriarchal?” he countered with a chuckle.

“Don't be a smart-ass, Darius” she imparted with a cold stare before returning her gaze to her phone. “You don't even know where we're going.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“It's not anybody's fault. It's a surprise!”

“Yes, dear.”

That was how so many of their conversations ended these days. Passive acceptance of Heather's edicts even though Darius had plenty of room to argue. But wasn't that the way of the world? When a couple has been together for a while, you learn to pick your battles. It felt like he was surrendering ninety five percent of the time, but Darius was mostly happy. Even when he wasn't happy, he was content.

And who wouldn't be content? Most of the brothas Darius had grown up with would kill for a 5'11 white woman. 6'1 in the heeled boots she was wearing. And not just a white woman, a “THICC” white woman with shoulder length blond hair and plenty of junk in the trunk. Her breasts weren't the biggest, but Darius didn't care. He was a legs and ass man and Heather had plump curves to spare.

Sure, she was a butter face who often wore too much makeup. On her worst days you might compare her to “Mimi” from the Drew Carey show. Yet Heather had a plain beauty and earnestness that Darius had loved since the first day they met. Their attraction had been instant. As a couple, they were doing fine two years into their relationship.

Taking Heather home to meet his parents had been a revelation. His father had beamed with pride and his mother had paid her endless compliments. Momma made it a point to say it was good Darius had “a strong woman to keep him in line” now that she wasn't around to discipline him. Maybe that was why Darius didn't mind a woman who could be so domineering at times. He'd had one all his life! After many a stern lecture and spanking with Momma's hand, wooden spoon or whatever else was handy when Darius made trouble, it felt like second nature to him; even as an adult.

“We're almost there” Heather announced, her boot heels clacking on the pavement as they made their way down the street.

“You just let me know, baby. I wouldn't want to miss this amazing store that I know nothing about.”

“Oh, don't worry. You won't” she said, glancing up from her phone with a sly grin.

Darius looked at her with raised eyebrows and a silly smile on his face. That's what he loved about her. That attitude and commanding confidence. Whenever he felt lost in the world or had any kind of doubt, she was there to fill the void.

Heather even d

... more on the forums ...