Tag Archives: Femdom Cops

FEMDOM POLICE ACADEMY

There will always be protesters and rioters, Special Instructor Evelyn said, there will always be creatures who brake the rules and cause mayhem.
I can’t wait to get My hands on the bastards, recruit Sylvia hissed.
Now, now, S.I. Evelyn hushed, please have some respect for the opposite sex.
The class burst out in laughter and S.I. Evelyn had to wipe the tears from Her face.
God, I should have been a comedian, She giggled.
The Femdom Police recruits will be required to attend a 30-week training academy. They will learn martial arts, like hand-to-hand combat, fist-to-chin, knee-to-groin, foot-to-face, teeth-out-mouth, kick-da-shin and snap-da-finger for example. They will learn how to interrogate and how to torture, how to whip and how to humiliate.
The average man thinks only of himself, S.I. Evelyn continued. We gave them a Communal Masturbation Center, gave them a Testicle-Tennis-Table, took headshots of their penis, enlarged them to poster size (the photo that is, not the penis) so that they could hang it in their room … But no, it was not enough to please the wildebeests. They wanted more, because that’s what being a brainless dick is all about.
The recruits cheered and clapped.
Each and everyone of them has a choice: submit to our will and be a good boy, or be a stubborn asshole and pay the prize. So being a Femdom Police Officer is all about being ruthless, unforgiving and brutal. It’s not our job to mediate, it’s our job to crush anyone who challenges us.
The entire class rose to their feet in a standing ovation.
Valencia, Spain, July 2119

BABOBA

A session with the Baltimore Bondage Babes (aka BaBoBa) can be life changing. Take Mr. Smith for example, who is now lying naked on the floor, gagged to the teeth and with enough rope around his body to rig a schooner. Drop dead blonde Nancy certainly knows Her way with ropes, that’s for sure. She’s sitting on the couch, heavenly legs crossed, eyes fixed on Her prey.
I’m not going to untie you, She says, because what’s the fun in that. Instead, I’m going to call the police and give them your address. How awkward and embarrassing is that, right? Your huge wet boner has a lot of explaining to do, Mr. Smith. Don’t worry, I will leave the front door ajar.
The poor man, in the meantime, is sweating like a turkey on Thanksgiving. He struggles with all his might, eyes as wide as frisbees. Mmmmmfffff, he gags, but without subtitles it’s impossible to know what he means by that.
God, it’s so sexy to see you in fear, Nancy says, placing Her High Heel on his head.
The police arrives 20 minutes later. And when we say police, we mean two beautiful Female Cops in shiny boots and fetish uniforms. They remove his gag, only the gag, and interrogate him. Because he’s not the victim, not to them anyway, he’s the culprit. They are absolutely merciless and Mr. Smith reaches a level of submission that he didn’t know existed.
The Baltimore Bondage Babes are different, adventurous and groundbreaking, what can we say.

THE COMMUTER

He missed the train by a whisker, so he called his boss and told him was going to be late. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. Because suddenly ten, fifteen, twenty Women of the FPS (Female Police Squad) raided the platform. Man, they looked hot in their uniforms and his dick sprang to attention as they approached.
Freeze! Get down on the ground!
Whoever they were looking for was in big trouble! He looked around to see who was standing nearby. It was nerve-wrecking and exiting at the same time.
You sir, in the red T-shirt, get down on the ground.
ME??? he asked, pointing at his red T-shirt.
Yes you!! Get down NOW!
He was complete in shock. He was an accountant for Christ’s sake!
This has to be a mistake, he pleaded, I didn’t do anything.
But he went down on the ground anyway, because he was absolutely terrified. Moments later they were all over him, jamming their knees into his back. He was slapped and handcuffed and one of them pulled a hessian sack over his head. They dragged him down the platform and down a flight of stairs.
Please, he begged, You’ve got the wrong man.
They punched him hard and told him to shut up. They drove him away with sirens blaring.
The life of a commuter is no bed of roses, man, hello no!