Excerpt for The Alpha Female Turns The Tables by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

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By Tory Mynx

Copyright 2018 by Tory Mynx



Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This story is written for adults only. It contains explicit, graphic sex and language. It is for ages 18 and older only and all character are over 18 years of age. Thank you.








As I may have mentioned a couple (hundred) times before, I’m a dirty little slut. I love having sex, whether it be oral, vaginal, anal, or all of the above. I love it soft, I love it rough, I love it in between. I love getting dominated, I love being in control, I love taking turns. I love all different sorts of positions, situations, scenarios and men.

That being said, the vast majority of the time, there is one thing that stays the same: I’m the one on the receiving end. Even when I’m dominating a guy, forcing him to do what I want, sitting on his face, slapping him around a bit, that sort of thing, the session usually ends up with him sticking his dick in one of (if not all of) my holes and then spraying me with his cum. And I’m fine with that. It’s simply the natural order of things. But occasionally I’m in the mood to turn the tables on a man. Sometimes I want to be the one doing the fucking.

Now I know what you’re thinking: How can a woman get any physical enjoyment from strapping on a dildo and fucking some guy in the ass? It’s pretty simple, actually. The physical enjoyment derives from the mental enjoyment of dominating someone. There’s just something exhilarating about owning another person, making them do whatever you want, forcing your will upon them. So even though there’s no actual physical sensation from the strap-on itself, the mere act of forcing a man to take it in the ass makes me wet as hell.

Luckily, within my long list of sexual partners is a (relatively) small subset of men that are into that sort of thing. So I take a gander at my phone and scroll down until I find the group labeled with the initials FD (for FemDom) after their names. There are 8 of them in all. Each one has a number between 1 and 5 after the FD notation, telling me how rough they like it. A 1 likes it soft and romantic and a 5 likes it pretty rough. Now, the abuse the fives receive from me isn’t all that extreme compared to some stuff that can be found out there in cyberspace (I’m not really into the pain thing) but I can get pretty damn rough with them nonetheless.   

Tonight, fresh off a couple nights in a row of being on the receiving end of some extremely rough sex myself, I’m in the mood to fuck one of these poor boys up pretty bad. So I look up the number of my favorite five on the FD list. His name is Mark. I give him a call.

After he answers, I tell him what I have in mind for the night. He thinks it sounds great and says he’ll meet me at my place in one hour. I hang the phone up and start getting prepared, my excitement already building. It’s going to be a fun night.




Almost exactly an hour later there’s a knock on the door. I answer it decked out in studded black leather bra and panties with fingerless black gloves, thigh-high boots with 4-inch heels and carrying a 3-foot long braided leather whip.

The whip is pretty much just for show, it doesn’t really have a practical purpose in tonight’s proceedings but Mark’s eyes go wide upon seeing it. Which is exactly what I was going for. I wrap the whip around the back of his neck and pull him inside.

Mark is a pretty physical guy, standing at a shade under 6 feet tall and almost 200 pounds. He’s not a pretty boy by any means, with a rugged face, a couple days worth of stubble and a standard barbershop haircut. He’s in his mid-thirties and has the body of a former college athlete starting to go soft around the middle. All in all not the kind of guy you’d normally associate with the sort of thing we have going on tonight. Which is a big part of the fun for me. Dominating a pretty little young man is one thing, but owning a big, manly-man type is infinitely more satisfying.

I lead him over to the center of the living room and order him down to his knees. He obeys without question. I wrap the whip around his neck a couple of times, pulling it tight enough that he can feel it but not so tight that it’s choking him.

“Are you ready for tonight?” I ask, looking down at him with an evil little smile on my face.

“I think so.”

“Are you sure? You look a little scared.”

“I am,” he says. “But that’s part of the fun.”

“I’m glad you see things that way,” I say. “Because I have a surprise for you. And it’s pretty scary. Do you want to see it?”

He nods.

I pull the whip tighter, choking him. Tilting my head to the side and flashing him a harsh look, I say, “What? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Yes,” he says, his voice softer due to the constriction of his neck.

“Yes what?” I say, pulling even tighter.

“Yes, mistress,” he manages to croak out. His face is starting to turn bright red.

“That’s better,” I say, unraveling the whip, allowing him to breathe normally once again. “You stay put. I’ll be right back.”

I head into the kitchen. I put the whip on the counter and pick up a strap-on with a reasonably thick, 7-inch latex dildo attached to it. It’s not the biggest dildo in my collection, not by a longshot, but it’s quite a bit larger than anything I’ve ever used on Mark before. Or any other man, for that matter.

I strap it on and head back out to the living room, where Mark is waiting, still sitting in the exact spot I left him, just like a good little sub. His eyes open wide when he sees the size of the cock strapped to my waist. I walk towards him, stopping once I’m just a couple inches away from him, the dildo practically touching his face, which is turned up towards me.

Standing over him, taunting him, I stroke my artificial cock. I’m not going to lie, it feels good to have a cock in my hands. Even if it’s a fake one made out of latex. It’s hard to keep my hands off of it. I don’t know how guys don’t stroke it all day long.

“Do you see what I have for you today?” I ask, staring down at Mark.

“It’s fucking huge,” he says, his voice brimming with both fear and excitement.

“You’re damn right it is,” I say. “And you know why?”

Mark shakes his head.

“It’s because I had a bad fucking week and I need to take it out on someone,” I say. “And you’re the lucky winner.”

Bending down until our heads are on the same level, I grab ahold of his chin and squeeze tight. He winces just a bit.

“You see, Mark, today is all about torture and pain and making you squirm and whine and cry like a little bitch,” I say, my eyes locked on his. “I’m going to tear you open. I’m going to stick this huge cock deep inside your asshole until you feel it all the way in your fucking stomach.”

Mark swallows. His throat makes an audible click. From the look in his eyes he’s either truly scared or he’s a great actor. I’m thinking it’s a little bit of both.

I slap him in the face. He takes it like a man, hardly making any sound at all.

“Do you like that?” I ask.

He nods.

“Then I guess I’m not doing it hard enough,” I say.

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