Femdom is Relative

“So it’s true! My favorite nephew is here to stay with us for a whole month!”

         You spin round like a guilty rat at the voice of Aunt Laura’s oldest, Marisa. When you see her standing on the threshold of the small guest room, you nearly fall backwards over your own luggage and clothes you’ve been unpacking into the girlish dresser at the end of the twin-sized wooden bed with the frilly yellow pastel sheets. Attempting to recover, you still can’t look her in the eyes as you try to sound nonchalant with a quick, “Oh. Hey! Marissa! What’s going on?”

         She cracks up laughing and points at you while you look anywhere but directly at her. “A-Ha-Ha-Ha! Oh, Patty!” smiles Marisa as she saunters right in, “We’re going to have the BEST time, you and I! I’m on the wrestling Varsity team now, and I have a whole new batch of moves I want to practice on my favorite punching bag!”

         “Now, come on, Marisa”, you try to say forcefully, but it comes out a little too high, “I-I’m older now and you can’t make me-Eeek! Owowow! Stop, pleaaase, Marissa!”, and she instantly has you on your knees as she twists your right hand in a sort of duck shape that hurts like heck. “Pretty-please, Patrick!”, she smiles, letting go of your aching wrist, “Three rounds of Indian Leg Wrestling! For old time’s sake. What do you say?”

         “I don’t know, Marisa. I just want to enjoy the time away from school and relax”, you attempt to state.
“Tell you what, Patty. I’ll give you a choice, because I’m such a caring, loving cousin. We best-of-three Indian Wrestle or you change into these and wear them for the rest of the evening. Or ELSE!”, and Marisa holds up a pair of girl’s black lace panties.