Fetishes: tech domination / tech domme, homewrecking, erotic hypnosis, femdom, findom, Majesty Natalie
A/N: I noticed that my femdom erotica is deepening your devotion. You can’t get me out of your dreams, can you? ᙏ̤̫
Bruce had been watching Natalie’s videos for days. She had recently started dropping content in the mornings instead of the evenings, and it was positively killing Bruce to have to wait until his work day was up so he could come home and watch her videos.
He felt like a failure. He couldn’t focus at work, even less so than normal, and he couldn’t even prioritize Natalie the way he knew she deserved to be worshiped. All the subliminal teachings she’d given him over the time he’d spent watching her videos told him he should be doing more to support his porn princess. And yet, if he quit his job he wouldn’t be able to pay for her content. He wanted, more than anything, to have a work from home job that would allow him to have work on one monitor and Majesty Natalie on the other, but he didn’t have the skillset.
He’d tried to watch Natalie’s videos on his lunch break, but they were just a bit too long, and he’d have to make excuses to stay on his break longer. He was still watching the pixelated Goonblocker clips, knowing that he wasn’t worthy of watching uncensored videos of her. He didn’t deserve to see her skin, her tiny body, her pretty clothes. He should be grateful he’s even allowed to listen to her bratty voice. And he was. He was so grateful.
He took his break a few minutes early, trying his best to not draw attention to the fact that he was slipping out before it was time. He sneakily locked himself in his car and played Natalie’s new YouTube video. It was a Goonblocker clip, but she uploaded it free to her channel.
“Good morning gooner,” Majesty Natalie said, sounding cute and bored. She was wearing a white crop top and pink yoga pants, and her tits were centered, so Bruce couldn’t tell if she was wearing a bra under it or not. If he knew Natalie, probably not. His gooner cock ached at the thought. “I went on a shopping spree with some of the money I’ve been sent lately—which means I mean more, in case you’re too stupid to get the hint—and I wanted to show you my haul.”
Natalie began pulling clothes from bags, holding them up, making Bruce imagine them on her body—shiny skimpy bikinis and crop top sweaters, tight athletic wear and grey sweatpants. She had bought three different pairs of bleach white sneakers, size five, and some gold jewelry. Everything was designer, one tiny bikini top probably more expensive than everything Bruce owned put together. He had helped fund that. He felt a confusing rush of pride, purpose and shame. Pride that he had been able to fund Natalie’s shopping spree, shame that he had been draining his and his wife’s money for months to be able to do so. But Natalie needed him to be a good cum slut and give her his money. Every time he spent money on her it only made him more ashamed, and even more horny.
Bruce was glad he hadn’t bought the fox tail butt plug, even though he’d considered it. It would have been the smart thing to do financially, but Majesty Natalie deserved more. “Okay, next I have something really special from someone really special.” Natalie turned and looked at the camera, rolling her eyes. “Just kidding, I have a new bikini from someone who sent me their credit card info.” She held it up, but the blur made it appear to be only a shiny, maybe PVC blob. “I only care about your money.” Bruce knew it was only a YouTube video, yet he still felt the insult. It twisted his gut and made his cock throb. And it was throbbing.
Bruce’s phone chimed. His boss, wondering where he was. He shot her back a message saying he was on his way and stuck his headphones in, listening to Natalie’s voice and glancing at the screen as he made his way back.
“By the way,” Natalie was saying, “If your cock is any smaller than this I feel bad for you. Or, I would feel bad about you, if I cared about you at all. My next wishlist gift was bought to me by a gooner so stupid he probably thought he was special for sending me a little pathetic love note with it. Well, Bruce, here’s my reply: Dear human wallet, I do not care about you, send me more money, XOXO, Majesty Natalie.”
Bruce had ducked into the bathroom, heart pounding, and made his way over to a toilet seat. He was transfixed, stuck to his screen like Natalie was running a hypnosis video. But she wasn’t, it was just the sound of her voice, saying his name. He couldn’t stop himself, pulling his cock out and stroking himself, as hard and fast as he could.
“This horny little gooner bought me a pair of high heels! Look, they’re red bottoms!” The shoes themselves were pixilated, but Bruce could hear them clacking together as she teased him. “Too bad I don’t like high heels. I’m a sneaker girl. I’m going to throw them away.” She did just that, right into the trash, and then she turned back to the camera. “Are you touching yourself gooner? Are you thinking about all the money you’ve spent on me, all the money you’re going to spend to make up for your mistakes here? You need to spend more. You need to get me what I really want.”
The screen started to pixelate, until Natalie was just a shape, a small, censored, feminine outline. She angled the camera to her feet which came into sharp focus. She wore bright white sneakers which she knocked together playfully. Bruce jerked off to her voice and those shoes, nodding along as she insulted him, already planning to tribute more of his money as soon as his hands were free. He rose to his feet and came hard into the toilet, letting out a long, heavy moan in the shape of Natalie’s name.
“Bruce?” Bruce hadn’t heard the door open—he must have forgotten to lock it—but he heard it swing shut. He glanced over the top of the stall and saw his boss, Sarah, looking hesitant. “What are you doing? You were supposed to be back at your desk ten minutes ago.”
“Sorry, I um, I had to use the bathroom.”
“The women’s bathroom? Bruce, something isn’t right here. I’m going to have to ask you to stay after today and meet with me, okay?”
“Okay, fine,” Bruce said, tucking his cock back into his pants. By the time he left the stall his boss was gone and he was alone again. He played the rest of Natalie’s video, even though he didn’t want to. He’d never felt so embarrassed. He bought Natalie another pair of shoes, this time a pair of pink Nikes, but it hardly made him feel better.
His post nut clarity was hitting. He was in trouble with his boss. And his personal life was in shambles.
Natalie was going to ruin him.
A/N: Do you notice any similarities between you and Bruce? What are they? Comment below! ᙏ̤̫