Last updated:March 28, 2026
Jan was Martha’s roommate. Martha was my girlfriend.
We were all in our late 20s and living in Washington, DC. Martha worked for a nonprofit association and made a decent salary, but not enough to live alone in a nice apartment in her neighborhood of choice, DuPont Circle. So, she needed a roomie to share expenses. About six months after she and I began dating, her then apartment-mate got a job transfer and moved out of the area. That woman’s room was taken over by Jan, someone Martha knew through work.
Jan stands around 5’8. She has curly, free-flowing red hair that she wears down to her shoulders. Her eyes are a strikingly alluring green color. She’s heavyset to the point of being a little overweight, but she’s thick where it’s attractive on a woman. Her boobs are big, high set and nicely rounded. She likes to wear tops that have deep scoops that give revealing glimpses of her most provocative bodily asset. Jan sports lots of exotic-looking jewelry on her hands, ears, nose, and around her neck. Personality-wise, she carries herself in a manner that’s calmly confident without being arrogant. When I first met her, she immediately struck me as being goddess-y, kind of a voluptuous wildflower.
A few months or so after Jan moved in, there was a week where Martha had to drive to Philadelphia for a work trip. She expected to be back around dinner time that Friday. She and I didn’t make a date for that evening, but I decided to surprise her. Coordinating this with Jan, I made plans to go to their place and cook one of Martha’s favorite meals (orzo with Kalamata olives, feta, broccoli, and pine nuts) and have that ready for her when she walked in the door. But something was wrong with Martha’s car when she went to drive home, and the staff at the garage she got it towed to couldn’t work on it until the next morning. She had to find a hotel and stay in Philly overnight.
I was already mostly done cooking by the time I knew Martha wouldn’t be coming home that night. Jan (who didn’t have any plans that evening) and I opted to go ahead and eat the meal. After dinner, we cracked open a bottle of Merlot and Jan brought out a fat joint (I loved that she ingested marijuana in that old school way).
The wine started flowing and Jan’s dope was especially potent. There was a haze in the living room where we sat on opposite ends of Martha’s long sofa. We got into a conversation about our respective love life histories. Jan, who didn’t have a special guy at the moment and who was using Bumble and Hinge to try and find one, told me some things about her ex-boyfriends and a few of the guys she’d met via the apps.
“So, do you have a type of guy you’re drawn to?” I asked her after taking a hit off a second large doobie she rolled for us.
“Not really. I mean, I don’t have a thing about guys of a certain height or build, or hair color or ethnicity or anything like that.”
She accepted the joint from me and took a long drag off it. After exhaling, she looked at me in a kind of cautious way, like she wasn’t sure if she should say what was coming next. But then she shrugged her shoulders, as if to say, “Oh well, here goes” and she uttered, “But I do have a type of dynamic that I pretty much always get into with guys.”
She had my attention. She looked especially attractive that night, wearing a low-cut orange top that accentuated her huge boobs and matched her fiery hair color. She had a little green shadow on the lids of her pretty eyes and some wild-looking, huge hoop earrings.
“Really? What kind of dynamic?”
Jan hesitated again. Then she shook her head and her red curls flew around. We were both really high.
“I dominate guys.”
If Jan had me curious about her relations with men earlier in the conversation, now I was fully rapt. I’d never engaged in anything like BDSM activities, but I knew I had a secret thing about dominant sexy women. Just the previous weekend, Martha and I watched the ‘80s James Bond movie Never Say Never Again, and I got so turned on by the beautiful femdom character portrayed by Barbara Carrera that I masturbated while fantasizing about her when I was home alone that Sunday.
I asked Jan, “How did you get into that kind of mode with guys?”
“It started when I was a teenager. My parents divorced when I was a little kid. My mom eventually remarried when I was a senior in high school. My stepdad has a son who’s two years younger than me. Once we were all living together, I could tell my new stepbrother had a thing for me. He got all nervous and stupid when he was around me, and he was always checking out my tits.
“One time, I got home when I wasn’t expected there. Like I got off early from my weekend shift at Arby’s or something. When I got to my bedroom, I found my stepbrother in there. He was going through this dresser drawer where I kept things like my journals and old love letters from ex-boyfriends.
“I was enraged. I walked over and knocked whatever he was holding out of his hands. And then I slapped him, really hard, across the face. He made a half-hearted attempt to slap me back, but I easily grabbed him by the wrist which I then twisted and forced behind his back. I’d taken some self-defense classes at a martial arts center, and I knew how to fight. Anyway, I was so mad that I didn’t even really know what I was doing. And soon I’d pulled him to my bed and forced him over my knees and pulled his shorts down and I started spanking his bare ass.
“At first, I just really wanted to punish him for violating my privacy. But as I kept spanking him, I realized he was enjoying it. And in a weird way, I got off on it, too. Not like I wanted him. Ick. More like it was exhilarating to have this total control over him. He was completely at my mercy, psychologically and physically and any other way. Having that power over him gave me a rush.
“After that incident, the whole way we related to each other was predicated on me being able to dominate him. I made him do my chores around the house for me. I got him to cover for me if I ever had to lie to our parents about something. And in exchange, I gave him spankings sometimes. Or I’d do things like surprise him by coming to his room wearing nothing but a tank top and panties and I’d make him wrestle me. I overpowered him effortlessly. I’d taunt him verbally while keeping him in a humiliating submission hold like head scissors or the camel clutch.
“So, anyway, that kind of power relationship with him just came to me naturally and felt right. And I guess it carried over into my later relationships with guys.”
I was about to swoon. It was dawning on me that I had a woman with all the seductive dominance of Fatima Blush from the Bond movie right there on the couch with me. Jan took another hit off the joint, then looked away from me and said, “Whoa, I got a little carried away telling you all of that. Blame it on the pot and the Merlot. Sorry if that was TMI.” But I could tell that she knew I’d been hanging on to every word.
I said, “Not at all. I find it fascinating. I’ve never gotten into anything like that with Martha or any of my exes, but I think I’ve always had a kind of secret desire to explore something like that.
“So, how exactly has it played out in your relationships with guys? Are you just a full-on femdom with them and they’re your subservient slaves?”
“Ha! It’s not that straightforward always. I’ve had, let’s see, five long-term boyfriends if we start counting after high school graduation. In a lot of ways, the relationships have been no different from most couples’. I can get my feelings hurt by someone I care about in that way, just like anybody else. I can be a silly girl who gets jealous and insecure if there’s a woman in my boyfriend’s world who I worry he might think is prettier than me. I get into arguments with the guys about what to have for dinner, if there’s a band one of us loves and the other one hates, all that typical stuff.
“But, in the end, I just always have the more assertive, authoritative personality in the relationship and that just always comes out in different ways.”
“Like what ways? Give me some examples.”
Jan again seemed a little hesitant to continue this discussion. But she went on with it:
“Sometimes it’s subtle. Like I just talk to a guy in a domineering way when I feel like I need to keep him in his place. They always back down from me when I do that. Other times, it’s been more overt. I keep repeating some of those things I did to my stepbrother. If my guy’s being a bad boy, like he acts insensitive to me or has a crappy attitude with me about whatever, I’ll put him over my knees and spank him. If he gets too cocky with me, I’ll challenge him to a wrestling match and ridicule him with words while subduing him in a hold he can’t get out of. And on those occasions, I never let them fuck me right after. After I spank them or pin them is when they want me so bad they’re about to lose their shit, and that’s when I deny them, oftentimes teasing them relentlessly. After an episode like that, they’re putty in my hands for good and we both know it.”
Jan got up then to fetch us another bottle of wine. As she walked toward the kitchen, she said with her back to me, “When I come back, we need to change the topic. We’ll talk about you now. Or something benign, like orzo.”
No way did I want to leave the present subject. For those moments while Jan gathered the wine and freed its cork, I knew there was something I wanted to say to her next. And I kept telling myself I shouldn’t say it. As she returned to the room and settled back onto the sofa, and as I looked at her flowing red hair and the cleavage showing through her top and the dazzling hoop earrings she had on, I chanted to myself, “Don’t say it, Ben. Don’t say it.” But then I said it:
“So, I’m gonna guess that you’d assume you could dominate me.”
Jan had been about to pour wine into her empty glass. She paused in that movement, smiled, looked downward for a moment, then up at me.
“Your level of interest in this conversation tells me that wouldn’t be difficult at all.”
My heart was racing. My nerves were on fire. I could tell my face was reddening.
“How would you go about it with me?”
She set the wine bottle down and made a serious facial expression.
“Okay Ben, listen to me. We’re both drunk and high. We’ve gotten carried away with this conversation. You’ve gotten aroused by hearing me talk about this stuff. And I have to confess that me telling you about it has been doing something for me.
“But now is when it needs to stop. I love showing I have power over guys, yes. But I’m not one of those catty bitches who gets off on stealing other women’s boyfriends or husbands. Yuck! I hate those kinds of women. Martha’s both my friend and my housemate. I’m afraid if we let this talk go any deeper, you’re going to start having fantasies about me. And that’ll interfere with your relationship with Martha. And I’m just not cool with that.”
I could’ve told her it was already way too late to keep those fantasies from being launched. But I just said:
“Okay. I totally hear you. And I respect you for blowing the whistle. But I just want to say for the record that I wasn’t trying to lead you toward doing anything with me. I just wanted to talk about it, in a hypothetical way, because it’s interesting to me. I’ve never known a woman who’s like you in this way. It’s fascinating to hear about, and I guess I’ve just gotten kind of swept up in it. But I agree with you that we should stop here.”
Jan went ahead and filled her wine glass, then mine. Then she put a hand to her forehead.
“Alright, listen. We both know we’re not going to do anything, like you said. But I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you one scenario of how I would dominate you if you were my guy, if, only if, we agree that, after I tell it, you’re going to get an Uber and go home, and I’m going to go to bed. And that this conversation will never leave this room. And you will continue to be a good boyfriend to Martha. Oh, and I think you should let her know about this secret proclivity of yours, maybe start dropping hints that you’d be turned on by having her dominate you. Deal?”
“Deal. Totally deal.”
Jan drained her glass in one swig. Then she looked at me like she was drilling into my brain with those piercing green eyes of hers. Then she put her index finger on her chin. Then she nodded.
“Okay. So, you’re actually my favorite kind of victim. The nice guy who wants to be dominated by a woman he’s attracted to, and either has repressed those desires or is too shy in that way to act them out. Oh my god, that’s my total wheelhouse.
“So, let’s say you’re my new boyfriend. And I have intuited all this about you, and I know I need to draw you out. Hmm… Okay, what I’d do is break you in with a role play game. Let me think of a good one for you …
“Okay, got it. I love this one and it always works. On one of our date nights, I’d call you ahead of time and tell you we’re meeting at my place and there’s a game I want us to play. I’d tell you to come over in work clothes and that we’re going to play “office” and I’m your supervisor at work. That’s all I’m telling you ahead of time. The element of surprise is always a crucial element of breaking a man down in this way. So, I just tell you that we’ll be playing the game and, in the game, you have to think that when you walk into my place that you’re walking into work and I’m your boss. I’ll take it from there.
“I’d wear something like a short black dress, or a super tight-fitting sweater with a skirt. When you get there, I tell you that I’m taking you into my office for an overdue discussion we need to have. I sit you down and I stand over you and talk to you in a domineering tone as I tell you I’m exasperated with you because of how often I keep catching you looking at me like you want to eat me for lunch.
“You’re new to this kind of role play, but you instinctively understand your part in the game. You go red in the face, and you lower your head in shame, and you stammer and stutter in saying it’s not true. You say of course you’re aware that I’m a beautiful woman, but you respect me professionally and you’ve only ever thought about and acted toward me with the proper workplace decorum.
“I let out a taunting chuckle, and I say okay, Mister Proper Decorum, stand up and pull your pants down. You hesitate and I say it again, more authoritatively now. Stand.up.and.pull.those.pants.down. right.now.
“You go even redder and now you’re trembling. But you know you have to do what I say. So, you obey, and of course when your cock’s exposed, it’s as long as Pinocchio’s nose when he’s just been caught telling a whopper.
“I move in closer and lightly touch the head of your pleading dick with just the tip of my finger. I say this, this is what I can feel from you every time our eyes meet. Now admit it. Admit that you desire me. Admit that you fantasize about me.
“You’re broken now. The floodgate has opened and you let everything spill out. You confess that you have constant daydreams about fucking me. You tell me you masturbate while looking at pictures of me on my social media. You’ve saved some of those pictures to your phone. You admit that sometimes after we’ve had an interaction at work, you can’t wait till you get home and you jerk yourself off while looking at pictures of me while sitting over the toilet in the office restroom.
“At that point, I tsk tsk you and I take you by the hand and lead you to my little office love seat, where I put you over my knees and spank you for thinking about me like that.
“What’s making all of this so delicious is there’s multiple layers in the air between us. We both know we’re playing a game as boss and underling, yes, but we also both know that this is really me dominating you.
“So, after I’ve spanked you, I send you away to stew in shame. In the game, I’m telling you to return to your own desk. And in reality, I’m really sending you home for the night.”
Jan locked eyes with mine then and cocked her head to the side.
“So, do you reckon you’d be putty in my hands after all of that?”
“Of course.”
“Good boy. Now contact your Uber. And don’t forget the other things you promised me.”
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