{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"a018eea3-8503-4147-a1ce-bcc597ac0697","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2024-09-29T08:27:13.072Z","title":"The Humbled Feminist (bondage story)","slug":"the-humbled-feminist-bondage-story","shortId":"FxExSlrW","authorNote":null,"disclaimer":"Not to be reproduced without permission.","type":"Short","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"Amelia uses bondage to explain the concepts of workplace feminism.","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"e2a162c4-1bce-4d2b-aef2-4061ffbff717","title":null,"summary":"The following story contains bondage, humiliation and some absolutely egregious sexism (which I disc","wordCount":3211,"readTime":16,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

The following story contains bondage, humiliation and some absolutely egregious sexism (which I discuss further in an endnote I'd urge you to read). Reader discretion is advised.

1. Amelia's presentation

Amelia glanced around the conference room, noting with dismay that 39 of the 40 executives present were men. White men, at that; and white men who could scarcely be described as young. It was not exactly a diverse audience. But it was an audience that needed to hear what she had to say. She checked the video camera was capturing her best side - the video of her speech would be sent round dozens of offices as a tool for re-educating sexist managers - and cleared her throat lightly.

\"Good morning,\" she said, \"and welcome to today's seminar on feminism in the workplace. As you know, feminism is a very serious topic, and not one to be taken lightly. Please take a look at my posterboard. These are key rules that we must keep in mind in the workplace, and outside of the workplace.\"

As always, the pretty 22-year-old had prepared a list of feminism's most obvious principles and put them on display. The list read:

WOMEN ARE:

\n
capable
\n
\n
intelligent
\n
\n
independent
\n
\n
not sex objects
\n

WOMEN DESERVE:

\n
respect
\n
\n
agency
\n
\n
dignity
\n
\n
freedom from harassment
\n

There was an audible sigh from the audience, but Amelia was unable to spot the culprit. No doubt they had heard these things before, but Amelia doubted very much that they believed in them. The young new CEO - the only other woman in the room, or indeed at any level of power in the company - was unhappy with the culture of casual sexism she had encountered from her very first day in the job and had requested the seminar as a matter of urgency. The poor woman had been catcalled, talked over in meetings, and told to make sandwiches for the rest of the executive team. On one occasion she had arrived in her office to find a bundle of ropes and cloths on her desk, together with detailed instructions for placing them on herself.

\"Undeniably,\" Amelia said severely, \"women deserve to be treated with respect, and dignity. We are not eye candy for your pleasure. We are not helpless damsels for you to rescue. I myself am a powerful woman and I will not submit to the patriarchy. Neither will your CEO, Ms Fotheringham, who persuaded me to come.\"

This time there were some giggles. Amelia found herself blushing slightly, frustrated that her authority was not being respected. But she had dealt with difficult audiences before now, and had always succeeded in winning them over to feminist principles. And she felt particularly confident today, thanks to the assistance of a new and extremely promising colleague.

\"Some men think women are undeserving of these characteristics,\" she said in her sternest voice, hoping to embarrass the troublemakers. \"Some men think women should be silent and obedient in the workplace, making sandwiches and looking pretty. Some men would like women to be bound and gagged, wriggling and squirming helplessly. My new colleague Doug has come up with a fascinating way to demonstrate how ridiculous this notion is.\"

This was Doug's cue. Amelia had never hired a man before, but the British 40-something had wowed her at interview, showing an encyclopaedic knowledge of her major speeches and presentations and coming up with some really out-of-the-box ideas for today's seminar. He now stepped behind the lovely feminist, gently guiding her arms behind her back and crossing her wrists, and then tied them securely together with strong black cord, looping and cinching quickly and carefully. In fact, he tied them rather more securely than she expected - it was only supposed to be symbolic, after all! Still, it would get the idea across to these dimwitted men.

\"Do you see how tightly and helplessly bound I am?\" she said, tugging uselessly at her wrists, which Doug had thoughtfully anchored with a rope around her trim waist. She was conscious that for the first time she appeared to have the room's undivided attention. \"But men aren't satisfied with that. Doug, please bind my chest as tightly as possible.\"

Her new employee obliged by wrapping rope around Amelia's shapely chest, above and below her breasts. He then brought the rope over her shoulder from behind and used it to yank up the lower chest loops before taking it back over the other shoulder, creating a tight and constricting breast harness. She wriggled a little to test the secureness of the bindings for her own curiosity, and to demonstrate it to the audience.

\"My upper body is completely helpless, imprisoned by these tight ropes,\" she reported. \"However, at least I can still walk around freely.\"

She turned around slowly, showing off how neatly her arms were bound behind her... and without planning to, giving the audience - and the video camera - a fine view of her pert behind. She had decided to wear a very short pink wraparound skirt for the presentation. That had been Doug's idea; he said it was \"a searing indictment of the male gaze that would shame the men with their own desires\". It went with Amelia's skintight pink top, at least. She typically tried to dress feminine, but didn't think this made her any less of a feminist.

\"But the patriarchy doesn't want that to happen,\" she continued. \"So Doug, please bind my legs as tightly as possible to represent women's lack of freedom of movement.\"

Doug went quickly to work. (He was always happy to put in extra effort for the cause. Amelia was so pleased to have found him.) He tightly bound Amelia's legs together at ankle, knee and thigh, cinching the ropes hard; it was actually a bit painful, but she didn't want to break the flow of the presentation by complaining. She was now balancing precariously on her high heels - which were pink too - and hoping she wouldn't fall over. That wouldn't do at all. The last thing she wanted was for these sexist old men to see a proud feminist looking ridiculous!

\"Look at my tightly bound, helpless body,\" she said, her voice unintentionally becoming sultry and seductive. \"Look at how objectifying these bonds are - the way they draw attention to my breasts and keep me obedient and compliant.\"

These lines had been supplied by Doug, who said they would embarrass the men into examining their own attitudes to women. Amelia found them odd, but trusted her colleague's instincts. It was useful to have a man on the inside, so to speak: a man on her team who was able to understand the thought processes of sexists.

\"Do any of the men here think this is an acceptable way to treat an independent feminist? Do you think this is 'hot' or 'sexy'? Would you like to truss me up like a helpless damsel in distress? Of course you wouldn't.\"

There were smiles throughout the room as the men appeared to dispute this conclusion. The only person not smiling was Ms Fotheringham, who was shaking her head in disbelief. Amelia was briefly concerned, but then decided her client would be impressed by the next phase of the presentation.

\"But of course,\" she said, \"the patriarchy refuses to listen to women. Doug, please gag me thoroughly to represent the suppression of female voices. Naturally, Doug will take over the rest of the presentation.\"

2. Doug's presentation

\"Thank you, sweetheart,\" Doug drawled lazily as he stood up again. \"It's a pleasure to watch you work, although I can't say I enjoy listening to your tedious chatter. So let's get you properly muzzled to represent the suppression of blah blah blah whatever.\"

Amelia looked startled by this departure from the script.

\"Doug, what do you mmmmpphhh!\"

Laughing, he shoved a gigantic red ballgag into her wide-open mouth, then buckled the straps as tight as he could behind her head. She squeaked with surprise and no little pain, as the straps bit into her soft skin.

\"That's better, isn't it, gents? I thought she'd never shut up. Women never stop talking, that's the trouble.\"

There were mutters of agreement, and some cruel laughter. Amelia looked furious, and started hopping up and down and mmmphing through her gag.

\"Oh hush now, you silly bimbo,\" Doug said offhandedly. He gave her a firm smack on the arse, and the audience cheered.

\"Now, shall we amend this list a little? I can see my secretary has made a few errors; she is rather dim, I'm afraid. Move aside, girl.\"

As Amelia wriggled and squirmed and protested through the gag, Doug crossed out several of the entries on the list, and added new items of his own. The first section now read:

WOMEN ARE:

\n
~~capable~~ helpless
\n
\n
~~intelligent~~ bimbos
\n
\n
~~independent~~ damsels in distress
\n
\n
~~not~~ sex objects
\n

\"Mmhnph nrm mnn nnnng?\" Amelia asked confusedly, shaking her body from side to side and desperately trying to escape the cruelly tight ropes. \"Pmmnphm phphnp!\"

\"Oh, you don't like what I've written?\" laughed Doug. \"Well, why don't you change it if you're so clever? I'm sure you can manage, being an 'independent feminist' or whatever you call yourself.\"

Amelia twisted awkwardly in her bonds, but managed to pick up the pen. She tried to position herself in such a way that she could correct the list, but it was impossible for her to see what she was doing. All she managed was a few meaningless squiggles.

\"Your handwriting needs improvement, sweetheart,\" said Doug. \"And you need to be punished. This is a great opportunity for me to demonstrate the best way to motivate your valuable male employees and get some small use out of the female ones.\"

\"Plmmnphm, Dnng!\" Amelia pleaded, drool from the massive ballgag dripping down onto her prominent cleavage. There was no bra under the tight pink top - she didn't believe in hiding her femininity for the benefit of old-fashioned men - and her nipples were clearly visible through the thin fabric. \"Nntphnm mm!\"

\"The key thing is to identify your employee's best qualities. In this case, Amelia has no business or communication skills whatsoever, even when she hasn't got her hands bound behind her back and a gag in her mouth. Not to mention that she is quite amazingly gullible; talking her into those ropes was the easiest sales pitch I've had all year. But on the plus side, she does have a nice pair of tits.\"

Doug pulled down the front of Amelia's pink top. The extreme tightness of the chest harness made this tricky, but he eventually managed to free both of her breasts. He was right: they were magnificent, round and firm and perky. They jiggled slightly as she struggled against the ropes. The audience whistled and whooped.

\"Wmhm nrm mnn dnnnng phhnph?\" Amelia asked, blushing and beginning to cry.

\"Why, my dear? Because you need to be put in your place. We can't have feminists like you getting ideas above their station. Women should be seen and not heard. Talking of which, are we getting all this on camera?\"

A smirking bald man stood up and took Amelia's camera off the tripod, then carefully zoomed in to get a clear view of her exposed breasts and the details of her cruelly tight bondage. She remembered speaking to him earlier; he was called Nigel, and had lots of opinions. Among other things, he had asked her to fetch him a drink, then tried to convince her that women shouldn't be allowed to drive.

\"She looks great, Doug! Give us a smile though, sweetheart. I can tell you're enjoying it.\"

Amelia tried to give the idiot a mouthful of abuse, but it just came out as muffled moans and mewls.

\"What's that, love? You need me to park your car for you? Sure thing, darling. Always happy to help the little lady.\"

\"Fnchnng gnnndmmnph!\"

Doug laughed at this exchange.

\"Excellent work, Nigel. Now, where were we with that list?\"

He picked up the pen and \"corrected\" the second half of the list. The entire thing now read:

WOMEN ARE:

\n
~~capable~~ helpless
\n
\n
~~intelligent~~ bimbos
\n
\n
~~independent~~ damsels in distress
\n
\n
~~not~~ sex objects
\n

WOMEN DESERVE:

\n
~~respect~~ groping
\n
\n
~~agency~~ tight ropes and gags
\n
\n
~~dignity~~ humiliation
\n
\n
~~freedom from~~ frequent harassment
\n

When he was finished, he nonchalantly tucked the pen between Amelia's breasts, sliding it neatly under the tight ropes. His fingers roamed across the drool-flecked skin of Amelia's chest as he did so, stroking and groping as he pleased.

\"My secretary doesn't have many useful qualities, but she makes an attractive stationery cupboard,\" he joked, giving her nipple a good hard tweak. The audience laughed - far more than the joke merited, Amelia felt. Even Ms Fotheringham couldn't help giggling a little.

She still couldn't believe what was happening. This was not giving the right message at all! Instead of demonstrating the strength and independence of a powerful feminist, Amelia was showing them instead how easily a feminist could be outwitted, subdued and humiliated, reduced to the status of eye candy. She squirmed and hopped up and down, trying to see if there was any slack in the ropes, but succeeded only in giving the audience a fine view of her jiggling tits. Nigel made sure to capture all of this on video.

\"Nm phhnnghph ymnn mmmrm mn fmmnnnphpht?\"

\"A feminist? Of course not. Why would I believe in that claptrap? I just told you that nonsense so I could get a chance to work with you, and play this little trick. I knew you'd fall for it, you dim little bimbo.\"

\"N'm nnph n bhnmbn!\"

\"No? Then how did a mere man outwit you so easily? If you're so smart and capable, why did you let me truss you up and gag you? Unless you... enjoy being a helpless captive. Is that it?\"

Amelia didn't have an answer to that. She blushed and looked down in humiliation, rapidly running out of energy to fight back. The ropes were so tight!

\"Come along, my dear, you normally have so much to say. Would you like me to remove the gag?\"

\"Ymmph plmmnphm.\"

The ballgag was drenched with drool, and Doug pulled a face as he unbuckled the strap and removed it from Amelia's mouth. The audience laughed.

\"I will ask you once again, my dim little creature. Do you like being bound and gagged, a helpless captive humiliated in front of a room full of people?\"

Amelia began to answer, then cried out in pain as Doug pinched her nipple again.

\"Er, yes. Yes I enjoy it,\" she said, adding in a whisper, \"Please don't do that again.\"

\"What do you enjoy?\" He began to squeeze her nipple again and Amelia gasped.

\"Oh, I enjoy being your, er, helpless captive,\" she said desperately, trying to guess what he wanted to hear. She just wanted the ordeal to be over. \"I just love being a damsel in distress completely at your mercy, bound and gagged, trussed up, having my hands tied ever so tightly behind my back. I only wish I could be more helpless. If only there was more rope securing my weak female body.\"

There were whoops of delight at this 'admission', and Doug smiled with pleasure.

\"That can be arranged. How would you like to be bound? And call me sir, wench, since I am your superior.\"

Amelia racked her brain for a suitable term. She was rather innocent when it came to unusual sex practices.

\"Oh please sir, could I have a... a crotch rope? That's what I need, yes it surely is.\"

She breathed a sigh of relief as Doug relaxed the pressure on her nipple. She must have said the right thing.

\"Very well, slut. If you desire a crotch rope so eagerly, we must not deny you.\"

Doug manhandled Amelia roughly into a position where she had her back to him, and tied a cord to the loop around her waist. He carefully tied a large knot midway along its length, then threaded it between her bound thighs until it emerged below her crotch. He then yanked the cord up - causing another gasp - and secured it to the waist loop at the front. Whatever you said about Doug, he knew his ropework: the knot was now sitting in the worst possible place, and the slightest movement caused an intolerable friction. She could feel herself going red.

\"I don't want to be impolite, sir, but is that real-mmmmmphhhh!\" The gag was shoved back in, and buckled in place even tighter than before. Doug ruffled his captive's hair, then gave her another slap on the arse.

\"Since Amelia hasn't got any more comments to add, I believe the presentation is at an end. I trust you have all found this seminar instructive, especially you, my dear?\"

Doug leered at Ms Fotheringham, and then immediately talked over her when she began to speak.

\"If you have any complaints, I would be glad to give you a personal demonstration of my techniques at no extra charge.\"

He picked up another coil of rope, and Ms Fotheringham's face went white. She shook her head.

\"Oh no, Doug, I don't have any complaints at all,\" she stammered. \"If anything I think you've been too gentle with Amelia. She had it coming if you ask me, the snooty little princess.\"

Doug laughed.

\"You don't agree with my secretary's feminist view of the workplace?\"

\"Certainly not. We women must know our place. Er... would you like me to make you a sandwich?\"

\"I appreciate the offer, my dear, and no doubt your male colleagues will be calling on your services in the future: be sure to treat them with submissiveness and obedience at all times, lest they feel the need to correct your behaviour, and advise any other bimbos, floozies and chicks in the company to follow your example. But it is time for Amelia and I to leave. Thank you all for attending today's seminar on how to defeat and humiliate feminists.\"

As he spoke, Doug strolled over to Nigel and collected the camera, swapping it for the rope.

\"Great work, Nigel. Don't worry, I'll send you a copy of the video - feel free to post it on YouTube if you like. In fact, I'll be sending a copy to all of our clients! By the way, I have decided to change the name of the company from Feminism In The Workplace to Feminists In Rope; as the man, I will naturally be taking over management and receiving all of the revenues. Amelia's role will be purely decorative. Goodbye, and I hope to see you all at a future event!\"

Cheers and applause rang out as Doug grabbed Amelia firmly and hefted her over his shoulder, swatting her loudly on the bum and carrying her squeaking out of the room. The only person not making any noise was Nigel, who walked quietly towards Ms Fotheringham, brandishing the rope and winking...

FIN

ENDNOTE

This particular story is a bit more sexist than usual. Which has led to me wondering, am I a feminist?

\n
The long answer is that while I support the aims and principles of feminism I'm squeamish about giving myself the label because it feels like centring myself in someone else's struggle... and frankly male feminists can be quite cringe. But the short answer is OF COURSE I'M A FEMINIST. How can you exist in this world and not be?
\n
So why do I write stories like this? I don't know. I guess because my desires are separate from my beliefs, and the two sometimes contradict each other. All I know is that I find sexist bullying and humiliation troublingly hot in fantasies, while recognising that it is completely indefensible in the real world. It's fair to say that I'm conflicted about this stuff.
\n
Anyway, sorry for waffling, and hope you enjoy the story.

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