Fangirl Femdom Fantasy

So, this is essentially a fantasy of mine I've ALWAYS wanted to see written into a story, but lack the literary prowess to craft satisfactorily myself. The premise is ridiculous and flimsy at best, but that's kind of the point. This story takes refuge in its own audacity. Here's an outline:

The premise: A young man (18-20) ends up at a anime/gamer convention. He finds himself beset by a pack of rapacious "otaku" fangirls (same age range, variable heights/body types); females who are wildly into the anime/gamer subcultures. Some/many of these girls may be in costume. They try to seduce him, and when he (for whatever inconceivable reason) rebuffs these attractive fangirls, they decide to get what they want from the object of their desire. He is seized by the mob of fangirls and dragged off to be used for a variety of sexual purposes before being carried away to a fate of much more of the same for an indeterminite amount of time. (forever?)

Unique Fetishes I'd Like to See
- Kissing: A very intense focus on lots of kissing; the girls all trying to cover their new male prize in many, many kisses, the sloppier the better, leaving him marked with many lipstick impressions.
- Feet: The girls forcing their new male to kiss/lick/worship their beautiful, perfect feet.
- Pet Play: Perhaps some of them might treat him as a pet, forcing him to sit by their feet, petting him, and making him wear a collar and leash.
- Strap-On Usage: A good punishment for a male who tries to escape.
- Makeup: They have a male of their very own, why not use him like a dress up doll?!
- General Roughness: Pinching, biting, slapping, dragging their male around roughly. I have one scene in mind of him trying to run through a door, falling, being seized roughly by the ankles and pulled, kicking and screaming, back into his captresses' eager clutches.
- Lots of Sex: Despite his desperate struggles, of course...

Things I'd LOVE to NOT See
- MALE Homosexual Acts: Nothing against it, just not into it myself. (A bit of fun between the girls is just fine. And yes, that is an awful double standard.)
- Uncleanliness: Not into unkempt, smelly body parts of any sort. Let's assume everyone involved is showered, shaved, and pleasantly scented, please.
- Waste: No waste, please. Human or otherwise.

Fangirl Costume Ideas
- Aayla Secura: Star Wars character
- Xena: Warrior Princess
- Anyone played by Milla Jovovich: Ideally Violet or Alice
- Lara Croft
- PRINCESS AZULA: Avatar the Last Airbender (notice the enthusiastic capitalization??)
- Neytiri: James Cameron's Avatar
- Gamora: Guardians of the Galaxy

So, what do y'all say? Anyone want to help make this fanboy's fangirl fantasy a fantastic figment of fiction?

On the theme of kissing, I like the idea of a lights out makeout session, with each girl having her own color of lipstick, so it's not until later, when he's examining himself in the mirror, that he's able to tell who was doing what.

Also, no Leeloo? My friend dressed as her for Halloween once, and damn! Didn't hurt that her nipples were poking through all night long.

MatthewVett said:

On the theme of kissing, I like the idea of a lights out makeout session, with each girl having her own color of lipstick, so it's not until later, when he's examining himself in the mirror, that he's able to tell who was doing what.

Also, no Leeloo? My friend dressed as her for Halloween once, and damn! Didn't hurt that her nipples were poking through all night long.

Click to expand...

Leeloo! How did I forget her?! We simply must have her in this tale. As for your idea, I love it. Very exhilarating. Feel free to propose any other ideas, too. We have to make this story a (fictional) reality! It has been a dream of mine for YEARS.

Hey guys, sorry about the double-post; I use a special computer for disabled folks and it keeps glitching when I try to edit my old one; this isn't just a cheap attempt to bump up my thread's visibility. (SOMEONE PLEASE NOTICE THIS!!!!)

Anyway, here's a little sample of what I have in mind, what I'd write if I could write this whole thing. It's written as if it were in the middle of the story, so context is a bit limited. Hope it helps spur on some skilled author out there with a fangirl fetish.



Aaron's face was waxy and sticky from lipstick impressions, and ran with rivulets of saliva. He was literally covered in kisses. His humiliation was unimaginable. Even though his hands were bound, the giggling girls still held him down; cool, smooth hands pinning his arms and legs to the carpet of the convention room floor. How could no one outside hear his protesting screams?

That girl dressed like Claire Redfield was sitting on his bare chest, beaming down at him and lightly running her fingernails along his collarbone. Aaron wouldn't meet her eye, not after the way she'd set upon him like a wild animal earlier. He had to get away. Who knew what they were going to do to him next.

"What now, girls?" spoke up Claire, as if reading his mind. "We have our toy, how should we play with him?"

"I want to try out some of my makeup on him," offered a girl in her mid twenties, dressed in some sort of fairy getup. "We could give him a full make over. You know, makeup, costume, and a full body waxing of course"

Aaron grimaced, wriggling involuntarily against the soft cords on his wrists. He had a feeling they would make the process as embarrassing and painful as humanly possible.

"I just want to beat on him for a while," mused a raven-haired girl dressed like Princess Azula from Avatar. "I bet I can really make him scream." She cracked her knuckles for emphasis.

"How about a compromise," offered the beauty in the stunningly accurate Aayla Secura costume. "Let's turn off the lights, and then we'll just... do what feels right."

She licked her lips and the mob of fangirls began to laugh in a tone that contained far more sadistic lust than mirth. Aayla went for the light switch, the room fell into utter darkness, and they were upon him...

Hot bodies pressed in over and around Aaron. He felt the light caress of lace garments, the sleek smoothness of leather, and the enticing warmth of bare skin as his costumed captresses swarmed on him like a herd of zombies on a lone survivor. Hot lips pressed against him, eager tongues licked his naked skin. Hands stroked, squeezed, scratched, and pinched every inch of his body. If he didn't get away now, there was no telling what they were going to do with him, or if they'd ever let him go.

Aaron let out a frantic scream and heaved himself upright with a Herculean effort, ripping the cords from his limbs and charging for the door. Or where he hoped the door was, anyway. In a blind tumble, he hit the door, bursting it open and stumbling into the hall. The force of impact made his legs wobble out from under him and he hit the floor on his stomach. His hands clasped at the ground, fingers scrabbling for purchase as--like eldritch demons pulling a victim to the abyss--countless hands locked about his legs and began to draw the hapless young man back into the dark, back into his tormentresses' clutches. He screamed, clawing frantically.

"Help me," his voice bounced off the hotel's walls. "Somebody please help me!"

The girls tugged and he was drawn back another inch. They were toying with him. They could easily swarm over him and pull him back in, but they were savoring the theatrical drama of pulling him back in, inch by inch. Their squealing giggles and amorous calls echoed from the pitch dark of the convention room like a den of ravenous beasts. Aaron threw himself forward, flailing in desperation, and a shadow fell over him.

A girl, probably about 19 years old, stood over him, hands on her hips. She was dressed like Blackfire from the Teen Titans TV show. The good, old show, not that awful comedy reboot. She looked down at Aaron, who clapped his hands around her ankles like a man at sea clinging to a rock lest the tide draw him away.

"Please," he begged, "help me! They're going to rape me!"

"Aw, poor boy," she taunted, making to step away from his grasp.

"No please! I'm serious."

"Well then," she took her time contemplating. "How about you make it worth my while, lover boy."

He looked up at her in confusion, trying not to let his eyes linger on her long, athletic legs or barely concealed breasts.

"Kiss my feet," she instructed, "and do it like your life depends on it. Because it does."

Frantic despair overwhelmed Aaron's dignity. He lavished his lips over her feet, kissing frantically, licking her boots like a pathetic, servile dog. The girls never let up, pulling at his legs constantly, forcing him to hold tight to Blackfire while worshipping her feet. She leered down at him.

"Good boy." She leaned and patted his head like a dog. "Okay girls, he's all yours."

"Wait no."

There was no reasoning with them. Blackfire stepped back, the countless hands yanked him back into the darkness, the door slammed shut, and Aaron screamed for all he was worth. A pair of firm but smooth hands locked around his throat, holding his head in place, and he felt cool, eager breath on his lips.

"Pucker up," a high voice in the dark commanded, and Aaron's scream was smothered by a pair of enticing, wet lips, engulfing him in a passionate, invasive kiss.

"Time for your punishment," another voice whispered, and he felt hands traveling down his back, reaching his backside. "We're going to make a man out of you, boy..."