EXTRACT FOR
Femdom Retribution
(Miranda Birch)

The cellar room he sat in was small and bare. No carpet, nothing on the walls. Just a plain wooden bench on which he sat. The door was locked, there was no window. He was still wearing only his raincoat, and feeling very sorry for himself. Roger was cold and hungry. His sexual confidence was completely demolished. He simply felt himself to be a dirty little pervert. 



He had no idea of the time, but he seemed to have been there for hours. Roger shivered. Something very unpleasant is afoot, he thought. Vengeful women could be dangerous. Should be be apologetic and humble? Jolly them? Or should be be aggressive? It was a difficult decision. But the pain in his groin, even if less severe, was still there. Aggression did not seem a very sensible approach, given what had happened earlier! Still, perhaps when they finally did come into the room, he might make a rush at them. A couple of good thumps, then he'd be away. And everything would be over. Yes... that might be the best ploy to start with. He touched his balls gingerly. Ouch... oh how they still hurt! that cow deserved a good thump! 



But how long were they going to keep him there? Frankly, Roger was beginning to get a shade angry. 



Not, he realised, that he had any right to. But he simply couldn't help it. Like so many other things he did in life. Really, he thought -- for once facing facts -- I'm quite a mess. 



For the umpteenth time, he got up and went to the door; tried the handle for the umpteenth time; hammered on it for the umpteenth time. Hopeless. Roger cursed. It was not amusing to be a prisoner; especially when the gaolers were women who had caught you flashing! 



Roger was half dozing when the door at last opened. He gasped. 



There the two of them stood, in the light of that bare single bulb, no longer clad in their country walking attire, but in high-heeled boots and suggestive leather outfits. They looked quite different -- and quite terrifying. 



"Stand up!" 



The order was given in a tone which expected to be obeyed instantly. Roger stood up, feeling more weak and helpless than ever. Never had he felt less like a true man. 



"Take that raincoat off!" 



It was the other who gave the order now. Fumbling, Roger took it off. Usually, that was his big moment. His triumph. Now he felt simply ridiculous and humiliated. All the more so when he observed the scornful curl of the lips on both of them. 



"Good Lord," said one. "Is that it?" A burst of laughter. 



"I cannot imagine why he wants to display that!" said the other. "You would think he'd prefer to keep it covered up!" 



Now both of them laughed loudly together, clasping each other in their affected merriment. Fury flared through Roger. He wasn't going to take this from these cows! Naked as he was, he made a break for the door. And the next instant, was felled to the floor by a neat, powerful blow to the neck. He lay there, moaning hopelessly. These women were scarcely human! How could they -- how dare they treat him like this? He was vaguely aware of them still talking to each other and laughing. He struggled to force himself up. 



"If you try and make another break for it," said one, "you'll get a second kick in the balls into the bargain."