u/SubmissiveMage

While spending time with family, my wife ordered me to do something with her usual "that's a command" which she says when she wants me to do something immediately and without hesitation. A family member overheard and made a disapproving comment and now my wife feels ashamed. She has been actively avoiding giving commands now due to this shame. Is there anything I can do to make her feel better? I love how she has been taking charge lately and hate to have her change because of my family's disapproval.

This is the 11th chapter in an erotic femdom fantasy story I've been writing. The previous chapters are available in various subreddits and can be found on my profile.

Please reach out if you have ideas or just want to chat about the story.

The Story so Far

Caden, a young mage, was captured, collared, and trained as a pleasure slave. After being given to the powerful warrior Lyra, he sailed with her to Seabrook and became a cherished pet to both Lyra and her gentle lover Hazel.

Life in their home was a mix of devoted service, tender affection, and growing intimacy, until Hazel was suddenly kidnapped by a mysterious cult. Lyra and Caden set out to rescue her, hiring the hunter Signy and her husband Rorik to guide them through the dangerous Fey Weald.

Deep in the eerie forest, Caden was rescued from giant spiders by Gwyn, a powerful spell-singing witch. She freed him from his silencing collar, helped him scry Hazel’s location in a tower in the Beartooth Mountains. The following day, she joined Caden and Lyra to help rescue Hazel.

Meanwhile, Hazel has been taken captive by the cult. They forced her to drink a potent arousal potion and are now subjecting her to relentless edging with no end in sight.

Chapter 11

For days, Hazel’s existence was a haze of arousal and denial in the dark chamber of the tower. Each dawn the foul potion was forced down her throat, twisting her body into a vessel of insatiable need. Each day the collared pleasure slave would bring her swollen clit to the brink of release. Her hips would buck wildly, freckled breasts heaving, moans echoing off stone walls as her orgasm approached, only for the slave’s collar to deliver a warning shock, pulling him away. Left panting, thighs slick with her unfulfilled need, Hazel writhed against her restraints.

Nights offered little relief. Bound to the bed by iron manacles, her soft body glistened with sweat, pussy aching with denied need. Her fitful sleep was filled with erotic dreams of Caden’s soft brown eyes gazing up from between her thighs, his tongue lapping at her dripping folds, teasing her clit while Lyra claimed her mouth in a possessive kiss. In one such dream, the visions sharpened into vivid reality. Caden materialized before her, naked and kneeling at the bed’s edge. His dark hair fell across his delicate features as he sang a sacred melody, vibrating through her core like a lover’s caress.

“Caden,” Hazel whispered, her voice desperate with longing, freckled cheeks flushed as she strained against her bonds, yearning to tangle her fingers in his hair. The song’s melody embraced her, dulling the effects of the potion for the first time in days. Her unbearable ache receded, and tears of relief pricked her eyes. As the last note faded, the vision dissolved and Hazel jolted awake, her heart pounding.

Turning her head, Hazel suddenly realized that she was no longer bound. The iron manacles lay open. Her eyes widened in disbelief, freckled hands trembling as she flexed her wrists, free for the first time in days. A sob of relief escaped her lips. Heart racing, she slid a hand down her sweat-slicked body, fingers finding the soaked curls between her thighs.

Within moments, she was rubbing her clit, chasing the release that had been denied to her for so long. Hazel moaned softly, closing her eyes. She imagined Caden’s warm tongue lapping at her cunt, those soft brown eyes locked on hers as he worshiped her. The vision drove her on, pressure building inside her core. Her body quivered, pussy clenching in powerful spasms. She bit her lip to silence her moans as waves of ecstasy crashed through her, leaving her limp and panting.

She lay there for a long moment, basking in the feeling of relief, her body sprawled across the rumpled sheets. Her breasts rose and fell with steady breaths as the aftershocks of her climax tingled through her. For the first time since her capture, her mind sharpened, the potion’s fog lifting as her eyes drifted to the chamber door. She froze. It stood slightly ajar, a sliver of torchlight spilling into the dim room.

She rose slowly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, her thighs slick with her own release. Naked and barefoot, freckled skin prickling in the chill air, Hazel padded silently across the stone floor. Heart pounding, she pushed open the door and slipped into the dimly lit hallway, the tower’s shadows swallowing her soft form. Torchlight flickered along the spiral stairs, guiding her downward.

As she descended the stairs, she heard the faint sound of snoring coming from an adjoining hall. Desperation drew her toward it. A wooden door stood slightly ajar; firelight spilled into the corridor. Peering inside, Hazel saw a cultist sleeping on a narrow cot, chest rising and falling steadily. Beside the bed lay a discarded cloak and a pair of leather boots. Heart hammering, Hazel slipped inside, snatching the garments. The cloak draped loosely over her soft curves, while the boots, though they were a bit too large, fit her feet well enough.

Just as she was turning to leave, the sleeping woman rolled over with a groggy murmur, her eyes fluttering open. Hazel froze, her heart pounding in her chest. The cultist blinked in confusion as she noticed the intruder. Panic surged through Hazel, but suddenly she remembered a lullaby her mother used to sing on restless nights. Softly, she began to hum the melody. The air shimmered faintly, the magic of her Fey blood stirring. The cultist’s eyes glazed over, lids drooping as she fell into a deep slumber.

Hazel silently made her way out of the chamber and toward the staircase. Cloak clutched tight around her, she descended the stairs in tense silence, torch shadows dancing across her freckled face. The tower’s base door creaked open to a blast of icy wind, and she stumbled into the moonlit woods. Snowflakes swirled in the air, thickening into a storm, as she fled deeper into the trees, breath clouding before her.

The cloak provided little protection against the brutal cold, but inside the pocket, Hazel found flint and steel. Trembling, she rummaged through the undergrowth beneath several small pines and found a deposit of dry wood and kindling. Smoke could summon her captors, but freezing meant certain death. With numb fingers, she struck sparks until flames crackled to life, their warmth seeping into her bones. Hazel huddled close, her eyelids growing heavy as exhaustion claimed her. She slumped against a log, drifting into uneasy slumber as snow blanketed the ground.

She awoke to the sound of hooves upon the snow, her heart pounding as she scrambled upright. Through the fire’s dying embers, four shadowy figures emerged: Elizabeth mounted on a sleek black horse, her flowing black robes billowing in the wind, flanked by three other cultists on horseback. Elizabeth’s pale face split into a soft smile, dark hair framing her features. “There you are, sweet one,” she cooed as she dismounted, “It is freezing out here! Let’s get you back home and warm you up.”

Rough hands seized Hazel before she could flee. Hazel’s arms were bound behind her back with a rough strand of rope. Another length was tied around her neck like a leash, pulled taut by Elizabeth as the cultists dragged her stumbling through the snow back to the tower. Inside, they stripped her naked, the cloak and boots torn away, leaving her shivering and exposed. Rough hands pushed her forward into the ritual chamber, where Lenore awaited on her dais, her long white hair cascading beneath her black veil.

“I should have known it would not be so easy to contain a descendant of the Fey queen who imprisoned our holy Mother,” Lenore murmured as she rose from her dais, her veiled gaze fixed on Hazel’s trembling form. “All that preparation and denial wasted. Now the sacrifice will need to be delayed.”

Hazel shivered naked on the cold stone, freckled skin goose-pimpled, her soft curves exposed under the cultists’ leering eyes. Lenore circled her slowly. “What shall we do with our rebellious pet?” she mused aloud. Elizabeth stepped forward, a sadistic smile forming on her lips. “Let me have authority over her, Eldest Daughter. I will ensure she doesn’t flee again.” Lenore paused, then nodded.

“As you wish, Elizabeth. I will entrust her to your care,” Lenore intoned, her voice a silken command beneath the veil, “but first, I have something to ensure her obedience.” She gestured sharply. “On all fours, pet. Now.”

Hazel hesitated, cheeks burning with humiliation, but a large cultist roughly shoved her to the ground. Knees and palms met cold stone, her round ass raised vulnerably, freckled cheeks parting to expose her tight rosebud. Lenore snapped her fingers and a nude woman approached carrying a velvet cushion on which rested a large metal butt-plug. As Lenore picked up the device, the gleaming jewel at its base began to glow. She pressed its blunt tip against Hazel’s sensitive entrance, and slowly, relentlessly pushed.

“Please... it’s too big,” Hazel begged, voice cracking, freckled cheeks burning crimson as the unyielding metal stretched her tight ring. But her arousal betrayed her, as her juices dripped down her thighs. Despite her pleas, she pushed back against the plug. Lenore chuckled softly, twisting the plug deeper with firm pressure. Inch by inch, it pushed into her, filling her ass to bursting. Hazel gasped, a guttural moan escaping as she clenched around the intruder, the jewel’s glow pulsing. Fully seated, it buzzed with magical vibrations, her round cheeks quivering around its thick base. Lenore stepped back, admiring her work. “Now, pet, apologize to your new mistress Elizabeth for running away. Kiss her feet and swear your obedience.”

Hazel hesitated for a moment, lips parting in defiance, but her resistance was short-lived. The plug in her ass delivered a searing shock, shooting through her like lightning. She screamed, bucking on all fours, freckled breasts swaying wildly, pussy clenching as tears streamed down her face.

The torment only ceased when she broke down, sobbing, “I’m sorry, Mistress Elizabeth! Forgive me for running away! I swear obedience!” Crawling forward on trembling limbs, she pressed her lips desperately to Elizabeth’s booted feet, kissing the leather with fervent devotion.

Lenore loomed approvingly. “The plug is magical, pet. It will deliver such shocks if you fail to obey a command from your mistress. Now, go with her.” Rough hands hauled Hazel upright, marching her naked and plugged toward Elizabeth’s chamber.

Elizabeth’s chamber was a small but opulent space, draped in black velvet and lit by candles that cast flickering shadows over a canopied bed and ornate table. Atop the table sat a crystal decanter filled with the foul-tasting grey liquid. Elizabeth smiled as she lifted the decanter from the table.

“Drink, slave,” Elizabeth ordered, her pale hand tipping the decanter to Hazel’s lips. Hazel gagged at the bitter, ashen rot flooding her mouth, but the plug vibrated threateningly. She swallowed desperately, the potion making her pussy clench with arousal as her nipples hardened.

Elizabeth softly caressed Hazel’s face, as she brought her lips to Hazel’s ear. “Now, lay down on the bed,” she whispered, “and I will show you our Mother’s love.” Hazel obeyed, crawling onto the velvet sheets, as the massive plug vibrated within her.

Elizabeth leaned over her, trailing a finger down Hazel’s neck. With deliberate slowness, Elizabeth kissed the curve of Hazel’s shoulder before trailing her lips down to her hard nipple. She sucked gently, tongue swirling around the sensitive peak, eliciting an involuntary moan from Hazel. Elizabeth moved to the other side, kissing and teasing both nipples, as Hazel’s hips began to twitch involuntarily even with the plug wedged firmly inside her.

Then Elizabeth brought her left hand lower, searching until it found Hazel’s dripping cunt. She pushed a finger inside, eliciting a fresh moan, before withdrawing the digit and bringing it to Hazel’s lips. “Taste your arousal, fey daughter.”

Hazel’s eyes fluttered closed as the musky taste of her own juices coated her tongue. Elizabeth pushed her finger deeper, causing Hazel to gag. “Good girl,” she cooed as she slowly removed her finger from Hazel’s mouth.

Once again, Elizabeth found Hazel’s wet mound, but this time, when she thrust her fingers deep into Hazel’s dripping hole, she used her thumb to find her sensitive clit. Hazel cried out in pleasure as Elizabeth’s thumb began to circle the sensitive bud, her fingers pumping in and out. Hazel bucked her hips, desperate for more as soft moans escaped her lips. The plug vibrated relentlessly in her ass, pushing her to the edge of release.

Then, just as she neared her climax, a painful shock ripped through her plugged ass preventing her release and causing her to cry out in pain. Elizabeth removed her fingers, leaving Hazel more aroused than before.

“Poor little Fey princess,” Elizabeth giggled as she straddled Hazel’s face, her black robes draping over the captive’s skin. “Will the plug not let you cum?”

Hazel whimpered in frustration, her body tense, pussy throbbing with need as she stared up at Elizabeth’s inner thighs. The cultist grabbed Hazel’s head, grinding her soaked cunt against her captive’s face.

“Don’t worry. I will make sure to have enough orgasms for both of us. Now lick!”

Hazel obeyed, swiping her tongue over Elizabeth’s sensitive clit. She lapped fervently, causing Elizabeth to moan in pleasure as she ground herself against Hazel’s face.

Suddenly, Elizabeth began pushing down harder against Hazel’s face, cutting off her air supply. Hazel, desperate for a breath of air, began licking more desperately, her tongue flicking frantically over Elizabeth’s clit. Her lungs burned as she fought for air.

Elizabeth moaned, hips bucking wildly. “Yes, just like that, good girl,” she cooed. The pressure increased, causing Hazel to grow light-headed as black spots danced before her eyes. Finally, Elizabeth cried out, her body convulsing in ecstasy as she reached her peak, drenching Hazel’s face in her slick essence. Gasping, she released the pressure, allowing Hazel to inhale a breath of precious air.

“That was wonderful, slave.” Elizabeth purred, dismounting from Hazel’s face. “Now that I’ve had such an amazing orgasm, I’m ready to relax and nothing helps me relax better than a nice soft tongue lapping at my asshole. So I am going to lay down and you are to lick my filthy hole until I tell you to stop.”

With trembling hands Hazel reluctantly parted Elizabeth’s round cheeks, and began licking. Her tongue darted out to lap at the cultist’s puckered hole. She swirled around the sensitive flesh, trying to ignore the plug’s persistent vibrations in her own ass. The taste of Elizabeth’s sweat mingled with the musky scent of her arousal as Hazel licked.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hazel’s tongue began to ache from the relentless licking. Then panic struck as the sound of Elizabeth snoring reached her ears.

Hazel’s eyes widened in horror as she realized her captor had fallen asleep. She must keep licking Elizabeth’s asshole, no matter how exhausted she was if she hoped to avoid the plug’s agonizing shocks. But what if Elizabeth didn’t wake for hours? The thought of licking her filthy ass for the endless hours, made Hazel shudder with dread.

Tears pricked her eyes as she pressed on, her tongue moving mechanically against the sleeping cultist’s flesh. Her throat burned, her jaw ached, and the magical plug vibrated with quiet menace. Under the flickering candlelight, she worshiped the ass of her slumbering mistress in silent servitude.