Sexual Fantasies In New Orleans



I have a story to tell. I’m not sure if you’ll believe me. In fact, feel free to think it is just one of my sexual fantasies. Whether it is or not, I think it’s worth a few minutes of your time.

I met a woman one day in New Orleans who changed my perception of reality.

My friends and I went to New Orleans for Spring Break. I know, it seems strange to go there in late spring instead of February for Mardi Gras. In all honesty, my parents threw a fit at the idea of my going during that crowded time and insisted that I go to New Orleans during the off season. I was barely twenty-one and still financially dependent on them. Because of this, I agreed to their conditions after I realized there was no hope of getting to go when I wanted.

The Woman By the River

We arrived in a rainstorm made worse by the oppressive humidity. Drinking began almost immediately, so most of my first day is a drunken blur. If I had had any sexual fantasies that day, they vanished in the liquor.

But by the next afternoon, we were ready to take in the sites. The rain had stopped and the sun was shining brightly. Even though I felt better, I was still hung over. It was better for me to sit on a bench by the banks of the Mississippi River while my friends went on a tour of the French Quarter. That is where I met her.

I don’t know what direction she came from because I was looking at the water and enjoying the large café au lait I had bought to-go from the café where we had a late breakfast. Hearing a small sound, I looked over to see a woman sitting a little bit away from me on the bench. She had arrived so quietly, I was startled by her appearance. Not only had she stealthily appeared, she initially seemed a Giantess! When I looked again, she was the perfect height and weight, but her energy was enormous.

She asked me my name and I told her. She was friendly and seemed to want to know everything about me.

Making Friends Your Sexual Fantasies

The strange thing about that is that, looking back on it now, I don’t remember her telling me anything about herself. I didn’t even know her name. The one thing she did tell me was that she was a witch. If she had told me she was a Femdom Mistress, I might have seen things coming, but I didn’t believe anything she said. I just chalked it up to her trying to add to the flavor of New Orleans.

I told her I was a tourist and that this was my first time in the French Quarter. She said she was a native and volunteered to be my guide. Promising to show me things that were not on any tour, I was guaranteed to see things I would never forget. We left that bench by the Mississippi River and began walking around the French Quarter.

Waking Up Naked

I know that she showed me many things. But, ironically, I have no memory of any of the sights I saw that day besides the dusty little knick-knack shop she took me to last. She said that this was her grandma’s shop and that she just thought I might want some of her homemade iced tea. I said that that would be wonderful.

We sat down on an antique settee to enjoy our drink. After a few moments, I became dizzy. Then I realized she had put something in the tea and I was afraid she’d poisoned me. As I fell to the floor she caught my head and told me quietly that I would be alright. Then all went dark. 

During my sleep, it seems all my sexual fantasies careened into each other. From coerced-bi to cuckolding fantasies, they tumbled one upon the other.

I awoke naked in another room. Now, I assume that the room was in the same building as I was in earlier.  But I can’t be sure.  I have no sense of time. I was lying on a bed, one wrist handcuffed to the metal table next to the bed.

When Captivity Becomes Fun

Looking down, I saw the girl who drugged me sitting between my legs, sucking my cock. She must have felt me wake up because she stopped and smiled at me and told me to relax. 

“Enjoy!” she whispered before continuing.

Then, between sucks that were really a lot of tease and denial, she said she’d cast a spell on me to make me a better man. I didn’t yet know what that meant.

“I will let you go soon, when I am finished with you. Before long, you will find yourself a slave to a very powerful woman. It will be something you love,” she assured me.

As she went back to sucking my cock, I forgot everything else.

Released, Only To Be Possessed Again

She let me go a few hours later. I was still a little dizzy, but managed to find my friends. I had no compulsion to tell anyone what had happened to me that afternoon. Instead, I told them that I had spent the time drinking and desperately needed to sleep off my binge.

As time went on, I found that I couldn’t remember much of that day at all. I never spoke of it to anyone.

However, a few months later, I met a woman who told me that she was a Femdom Mistress… my Femdom Mistress… and I was to be her slave. She never told me how she knew this and I’ve never questioned it.

I’ve been serving as her slave for seven years.

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