FreeDomme Isn't Free

Etherea ambled into the bedroom, setting her purse on the dresser as she strode past.  She was exhausted; it had been a long day, and she was pretty sure it was going to be an even longer night.  She rolled her shoulders and rotated her head and stretched it from side to side as she slipped off her blazer and began to unbutton her white silk blouse, pausing for a moment to yawn.  That's when she heard the footsteps.  They were so muffled as to be barely audible, and they were approaching rapidly.  Before she could begin to turn the woman was on her.  Etherea's left arm was pinned to her side by her attacker's sudden, unwanted embrace.  "Hey, what's going....." she began to say, but her sentence was cut short by a cool damp cloth being pressed over her nose and mouth.  "MMMMMPH!" she screamed, the protest muted by the moist rag.  Etherea twisted wildly, dipping her shoulder and trying to throw the attacker off, but the woman was strong and managed to pull her back upright and then bend her backwards and off balance.  She tried to hold her breath as long as she could, for she knew a wet rag like that could only mean one thing: anesthetic.  She knew the second she drew breath again the scent would fill her nostrils and the drug would invade her lungs and soon after the sensation would roll over her like a wave. 

She wondered what it was.  Ether?  Chloroform?  Halothane?  She knew them all far too well, unfortunately, but it had been quite awhile since she'd been in such a compromising position.  And in her own home!  Did this woman know her secret?  Her mind was running in a million directions at once.  Etherea flipped rapidly through the mental card file of her current cases and couldn't think of one where someone would.....chloroform!  She just couldn't hold her breath anymore.  The sickly sweet smell was pleasant at first, as if it mattered.  She couldn't help but breathe deeply, so hungry was she for air.  All she got were fumes.  She slapped at the hand holding the cloth with her free hand, finally getting a grip on the wrist and nearly pulling it away several times.  She managed to get a tiny bit of air, but it wasn't much, not nearly enough to keep her from rapidly spinning down the ever-darkening path to unconsciousness.  Each time she inhaled she grew more numb, her movements less coordinated, her mind less sharp.  She dug her high heels into the carpet, writhing and twisting, bucking and thrashing, but she already knew it wasn't enough.  Her attacker was determined and strong, and she held all the cards.  All she had to do now was hang on and wait. 

The embattled attorney tried to reach up again, to dig her nails into the gloved wrist, anything, anything to get the soporific fumes away from her face, to get a few breaths of fresh air, but her arm simply windmilled around at waist height; she no longer had the strength to lift it to her face.  She could feel the woman maneuvering her towards the bed as the edges of her vision began to grow dark and close in.  The woman forced Etherea down face first onto the bed, laying partially atop her for another few seconds.  Her eyelids flutterered and the dull lamplight illuminating the room seemed to flicker and then go dark.  Etherea surrendered herself to the drug, to the relief of impending unconsciousness.  She sighed heavily and took a deep breath, and was surprised to find herself breathing oxygen rather than chloroform.  She tried to will herself to rise, to push herself up.  She no longer had the weight of the woman on top of her, but even so she was unable to move.  Perhaps this was all just a dream; she was just imagining this.  She felt fingers slip inside the waistband of her high-waisted charcoal pencil skirt.  It loosened as the zipper was undone.  She could feel the woman tugging it over her hips, the fabric sliding against her nyloned legs, and then it was gone.  The hands were soon back, pushing her blouse up and grabbing the waistband of her pantyhose and pulling them over her bottom, stopping just long enough to hook fingers inside her black satin and lace panties and pull them and the hose together down her thighs until they were roughly at her knees.  A few moments later the woman pulled Etherea fully onto the bed, rolled her onto her back, and was laying half atop her.

"Hello, Mizzzz Serendipity," she heard the woman say in a business-like, but mildly cheerful tone.  Etherea could do no more in response than moan softly and loll her head from side to side.  She felt another button on her blouse loosen, and then a second.  She could make out the feel of leather against her breast, a hand cupping it, thumbs and fingers running over the lace and the satin panels of her bra.  The woman paused for a moment and there was some jostling as she took her gloves off.  Etherea struggled to open her eyes and succeeded just enough to see that the woman was blonde, but everything was still a blur.

"You've managed to piss off some very powerful people, Etherea," the woman said with a laugh.  "I mean veerrry powerful.  Like the one who hired me to do this job.  I guess going around defeating criminals and spanking and humiliating them in public isn't such a good idea.  You may be thinking the same thing yourself right now, if you're still lucid enough to think."

Etherea felt the woman's right hand in her little patch of fiery red pubic hair, fingers gently combing through it before curling around and stroking over her petals.  "That's an extra fifty dollars for me," the woman said as she began to play her fingers back and forth over her helpless victim's folds, "I told the bitch who contracted me you were definitely a real firecrotch.  I mean, look at your skin.  All those freckles.  It's obvious."

"Ssss....ssshtooop..." Etherea slurred.  She was too benumbed to resist, but not too numb to feel, and soon the fingers were rolling back and forth over her flower in long ellipses, causing her back to arch slightly and her folds to swell, her sensitive little pearl peeking from its hood.  It was now getting the lion's share of the blonde's attention.  Etherea opened her eyes again and tried to get up, but in her sedated state and with the woman half atop her it was futile.  She couldn't have moved even without the large blonde paperweight as an encumbrance.

"I'm afraid not, honey.  You see, I was hired to procure you," the blond said, teasing a finger in between Etherea's nethers and then circling around the moist, engorged lips.  "And not just procure you, but train you.  Break you.  I've been trying to figure out who you really were for months, FreeDomme.  I have to say I didn't think it would be so hard.  You're very careful; just not quite careful enough," she said with a smile as she watched Etherea bite her lower lip and moan, obviously struggling not to rock her hips.  The blonde clamped her left hand over Etherea's mouth as she began to stroke her prey's hard little button relentlessly.  "I found the secret entrance to your lair out in the woods behind your house.  I literally fell upon it, you might say," she chuckled, easily thwarting the heroine's attempt to close her legs by pushing her right knee against Etherea's left inner thigh, keeping her legs splayed wide as she continued to rub her.  "It's an awesome setup you have here.  The motorcycle is awesome.  It's all very Bat Cave-y, but without the dreariness."  She looked down into Etherea's glassy green eyes and licked her lips as the woman moaned and mewled into her hand, her breasts heaving and her body beginning to stiffen as her climax rapidly approached.  "So when I was done checking that out I let myself into the house through the sub-basement.  Your security system is excellent, by the way.  But again, not quite good enough."

Etherea's eyes closed and she tried to turn her head away.  Her body was undulating now, slowly, like surf coming into a beach, then receding and returning, rhythmically, endlessly.  "So now that I have you, I'm supposed to make an example out of you, Etherea.  And I can assure you, I shall do just that," the blonde continued as she felt the redhead's body go taut, her toes curling inside her shoes, one of the pumps slipping off as Etherea tried to dig her heels into the mattress, her need for release becoming irresistible.  "I'm going to teach you what it means to have no control, FreeDomme, even over your own body," the blonde said, removing her hand from Etherea's mouth and pressing her lips to the redhead's, her tongue invading the Etherea's mouth.  Etherea tried to resist, to turn her head, but her stand was brief, the orgasm that had long been welling up within her burst over her and robbed her of the last vestiges of control, her squeals of pleasure muted in the mouth of her attacker as she wantonly returned the heretofore unrequited kiss.  Then the blonde lifted her head and something cool and wet replaced the warm, wet mouth and the chloroform quickly overwhelmed Etherea, the frantic panting of her orgasm causing her to breathe in deep draughts of the drug.  She ached with pleasure, but it was all as if in a dream, and then the world went dark.

FreeDomme awoke with a start.  She lifted her aching head and tried to look around.  She was in her costume now.  Red thigh boots, nude tights, light blue shorts spangled with white stars, red and white striped corset with red laces and two star-spangled blue vertical stripes up the front, and long red opera gloves and a red mask.  She could feel her enchanted Whip of Veracity digging into her right hip, and breathed a sigh of relief.  If she could get her hands on that she had a chance.  She tried to sit up just as she realized her wrists were bound behind her back, and she fell back onto the mattress, trying to catch her breath, to become fully awake and aware.  It was at that moment she noticed the blonde standing opposite the bed, leaning against the wall.  She was holding a folded white hand towel in her left hand, saturating it with chloroform from the bottle she held in her right. 

"I guess all that nonsense about you being helpless if you're bound by a woman is actually true!" the blonde said with a laugh.  "I guess I just lost the $50 I won by betting you were a natural carrot crotch," she said, capping the bottle and setting it on the dresser.  "I mean how silly is that?  I tie you up and you lose your strength.  I guess this means those stories about your whip are true, too."  Etherea tried to sidle across the bed and managed to get one leg over the side, but the blonde was on her instantly, half atop her just like before.  "We'll find out about that for sure soon enough."

"Get that away from me, yoummmmmmmngh!!!" FreeDomme hissed, but the blonde paid no heed.  FreeDomme tried to struggle but it was no use, and she knew it.  Being bound by a woman did rob her of her strength.  The forced orgasm and the anesthetic from earlier didn't exactly help, either.  And now here she was again, pinned beneath this crazy blonde, breathing in more chloroform, her ears starting to ring again, the pretty blonde's face starting to swirl into a blur.

"Shhhhh, just let go.  That's a good girl" the blonde said softly as FreeDomme's struggles began to recede and her eyelids started to flutter once more.  "By the time I turn you over to your new owner you won't have a dominant bone in your body, FreeDomme.  But don't worry, I'm pretty sure there aren't any superheroines out there using the name SlaveSub, so at least there's that." she whispered into the heroine's ear as Etherea's eyelids closed a last time.