Human Cushion - A place to talk about woman sit on man is a Public Group with 2613 members.
- Human Cushion - A place to talk about woman sit on man
- Public Group,
- 2613 members
Women sitting on men
- Congratulations on this group! Before I knew about it I set up
another one at groups.yahoo.com/group/womensittingonmen.
You may enjoy stories and other stuff on my site at
This site is for women to explore the raw and primal pleasure of
sitting or riding on a man. It is about mental and emotional
domination as well as a physical act. Sitting on a man can be a
fantasy, a playful moment, a session between domme and client, part
of a femdom lifestyle or a couple's long term relationship. It can
also be a cold, disdainful display of superiority over the male. The
site is also for guys ready to be ridden, sat on and suppressed.
Here is the first part of a story on the site. hope you like it.
On the minds of men
Mandy sat on him with her full weight of perhaps 200lbs. Her thighs,
within her short, loose skirt, were spread apart over his chest and
stomach. He was small and rather light; it was no contest. Any
attempt on his part to resist would have failed, and with her massive
body on him it would have been very easy for her to mete out
retribution. But there was no struggle.
There had been, once: as she recalled those times, a smile flickered
to life for a moment across her mouth and cheek. Each moment that she
sat on this pinned, quiescent man felt like a fresh victory for her.
And she knew that for the man under her, each moment brought a newly
experienced taste of defeat.
Sandra could not take her eyes from them. She looked up at Mandy's
fleshy face, at the North European paleness of her yellow hair and
blue eyes, and then back down at the sheer fullness of the woman's
thighs and bottom. It occurred to Sandra that Mandy was sitting on
his mind just as heavily as on his body. Under that amount of
pressure he would not really be able to drift into daydream or
memory, or to concentrate on the various conversations taking place.
Whereas Mandy was free to think of him or not, as she pleased; at
that moment, for example, she was chatting with some of the other
women, drinking wine, dipping bread into the caviar paste. He was
Mandy's long term partner, Sandra had been told. His small round face
rested on its side, facing into the middle of the room, but his eyes
seemed to be unfocused.
'Everything we do to our men, Sandra, is designed to deepen our
relationships with them. They suffer, then they celebrate with us
afterwards,' said Kath, the woman with short dark hair, who was
nearly opposite Sandra, to Mandy's left. Hardly less heavy than
Mandy, Kath was more muscular, especially about the upper body. Her
thighs, displayed to full effect by her tight jeans, were, like
Mandy's, spread wide apart over the torso of her man.
Although it was mid afternoon there was not much daylight, for the
room was a basement, with only a row of small windows near the
ceiling above Sandra's head. Most of the light lay in pools cast by
lamps here and there. On low tables in the middle of the room were
the remains of the women's meals, alongside half empty bottles. There
were no chairs. There were instead two long lounges, a futon, two
large, flattened bean bags, and a wooden bench. On each one of these
items of furniture a man lay on his back, and on every man sat a
woman. To Sandra's left was Anne, then Mandy against the other wall;
then, more or less opposite Sandra, was Kath, with Gillian next to
her, and then Jacqui nearest the kitchen.
The power relationships displayed around the room were too strange
and too intoxicating for Sandra to attend properly to what was being
said. The comments from the women followed quickly over one another,
and Sandra could not yet distinguish one speaker from another.
'If they didn't suffer there'd be no spice.'
'Yeah, if we didn't go beyond their comfort zones, sometimes way
'Then there wouldn't any thrill for them either.'
'You see Sandra, they always congratulate us afterwards for staying
'They have to suffer, whether its just discomfort -
'Prolonged discomfort -'
'Or even just bored immobility while we're eating and yacking -
'Or sometimes real pain -'
'Whatever it is, it's always real suffering and always something that
sooner or later they stop enjoying and want to escape from -'
'Oh yes, but! However bad it gets for them there's always one chink
of light, always one thread dangling down into the pit, and that
light and that thread is that part of them knows that later they'll
be adoring us for having had the will power to stay in the saddle and
never let them throw us off.'
'And don't forget the pleasure they get from the anticipation
beforehand. We are by far the best thing that has ever happened to
any of them! And they all know it!'
This last comment was from Anne. Anne had long reddish brown hair
with a slight wave in it, freckles, and hot-looking dark brown eyes.
She seemed to be the odd one out in the group, for she was petite and
distinctly smaller and lighter than her man. Nevertheless Anne was
the only one that Sandra felt slightly afraid of. When Anne spoke to
any of the men it was always in the tone of someone starting to get
into a fight. She was a professional dominatrix. This was her house.
Sandra had already been shown the whips and other equipment in the
adjoining room. She had visited two evenings earlier. Anne had shown
her around the house, with Kath present too. That evening had seemed
most exciting and exotic at the time; Sandra had watched, fascinated,
at the open way that the two women bossed around their partners; she
remembered the sight of their two men washing and drying dishes in
the kitchen, speaking softly to each other about practicalities, as
Kath and Anne sat over drinks with her, describing the various forms
of female domination that most appealed to them. And then an imposing
tall black woman had called in to speak to Anne, and she turned out
to be another professional... but that evening seemed much closer to
everyday life than what Sandra was experiencing now.
When Mandy ate anything they all seemed very interested.
'Sandra's wondering why you're all watching me,' Mandy said. 'She'll
think it's some kind of ceremony.'
'Well in a way it is,' Kath said. She turned to Sandra. 'We believe,'
she went on, 'that Mandy and her partner are entering a new phase. At
their home she spends an awful lot of time squashing him down, you
know, just like she is now. And the weight differential is quite
high. As she puts on more weight, well, we just wonder what he can
endure.' 'Much more yet,' Mandy said, accepting a honey cake from a
plate offered by Anne. For some reason this brief exchange seemed to
The talk become louder and faster. It was all so disorienting! Sandra
felt as though she was watching a faulty television that kept
flickering from colour to black and white: at one moment she was
delighted and invigorated by this display of female power and
control, but an instant later it would all seem mad, scary,
impossible. She was glad the other women were more or less leaving
her alone; though she guessed that the discussion was often mainly
for her benefit, covering topics where the other women already knew
each other's opinions, and were agreed.
Were there any tensions within the group? Gillian, almost opposite
her, was undoubtedly the most attractive of the women from a
conventional point of view, with her pretty face and bright blonde
hair. Talkative, nervy, with a girlish voice, and wearing lollipop
pink lipstick and matching hair band, was she annoying to some of the
other women? If so there was no sign of it. Her eyes sometimes
glinted in the light from the high windows. She sat with her long
legs together, hands folded on her knees which sometimes swayed from
side to side. Although not very plump in the upper body, she spread
out considerably below the waist. Her man, stretched beneath her, was
decidedly thin, with the same sunken leanness as a catwalk model.
And how did Jacqui, to Gillian's left, get on with the rest of them?
At first Sandra had confused her with Kath, though Jacqui was less
heavy and had a softer look, and smiled more often. Jacqui's superb
breasts would have been enough to stir up jealous dislike in some
women. Jacqui did seem a little apart from the others in her manner:
more casual somehow, less intense; but she too sat on her man. He
looked more muscular than the others males, as though he worked out
at a gym, and was probably as heavy as Jacqui, and he seemed more
connected with what was happening than the other men. At one point he
put his hands casually behind his head (though Jacqui at once leant
down a spoke softly to him, and his hands returned to his sides). But
like the other men he did not look at anybody; it seemed to be a rule
of the place.
Unfortunately, Sandra thought, she herself seemed to be the odd one
out. Anne in particular seemed to frown whenever she turned vaguely
Sandra's way, as though at some social error. Meanwhile Sandra's own
man was becoming restless under her. She felt his stomach muscles
tighten, heard his teeth grind. Obviously he was not enjoying the
reality of the situation, however interested he'd been to come here.
Sandra had feared it might not be easy, he was so changeable and
restless; still, it was disappointing. Several times Sandra almost
got off him, but instead, at the last moment just resettled herself,
feeling more and more self conscious.
At last Sandra could bear her tension no longer and asked where the
toilet was, just to give her man some time to breathe. Anne showed
her down the corridor, asked her to close the far door. Returning
into the room Anne closed the nearer door too, and instead of
returning to her futon, she walked over to Sandra's man and fetched
him a tremendous slap across the face.
'You selfish coward!' she cried. A mark came up red on is face in
moments, and the rest of his face reddened. 'Stop upsetting your wife
with all your writhing around! You're really getting on my nerves.'
He rose up onto one elbow, glaring at her. He opened his mouth as if
about to say something. 'Stop!' 'Don't speak!' several of the woman
called over one another. 'Don't say a word!' 'And stop looking at
me!' said Anne. 'Lie down!' all the women began saying to him. Kath
got up and stood close beside Anne.
'Don't argue, just take it from her,' Kath told him. He finally
looked away from Anne, who continued to watch him closely. 'Kath's
right,' Jacqui added gently but firmly, still sitting on her own
man. 'Anne did all that for your own good.'
'You should be grateful,' said Mandy.
'You know very well that you wanted to come here,' Jacqui said. 'Anne
just helped you to remember that it isn't always easy, especially at
first. Lie back down now.' And he did so.
'And stop looking for attention,' said Anne sharply. 'That's right'
said Kath, 'anything more from you would be revolting.' Kath resumed
her male seat, but Anne remained where she was, her fists on her
'I could get my man to speak to him afterwards,' suggested Jacqui,
leaning towards Gillian.
'No,' said Gillian at once. 'He needs to bond with us
first.' 'Badly,' said Anne. She bent down toward his face. 'Listen to
me carefully. The time will soon arrive when you will love us. All of
us. Love us, and long for us. Then you'll be desperately glad you
have Sandra as your partner and are therefore allowed to return
here.' As she finished speaking the room was very quiet. She knelt
down close beside him as he lay on the bench, still watching him
through narrowed eyes. 'Are you beginning to understand?' He nodded,
swallowed. A collective female sigh went through the room. Anne
tousled his hair then stood up, just as Sandra returned.
Later, as they were all leaving, Kath and Jacqui both came out to see
off Sandra and her husband, and stayed talking to them for some time
by their car.
'So bright outside in the daylight,' isn't it?' said Sandra.
'It's important to have someone with you when you hit the everyday
world again, after your first meeting.' "Yes. it's all quite -
enormous, isn't it?' 'It's an enormous change,' and there's a danger
of coming out of your meeting and thinking "hey wow! did that really
go on?" And that's not always a good feeling.'
In the sunlight Sandra noticed the mark on her husband's face.
'What happened?' she cried. He looked down, began to mumble
something, but Kath spoke over him at once.
'Sandra, as soon as you left the room Anne slapped him, as punishment
for making you feel uncomfortable. It did him good.' Sandra raised
her fingers to the mark on his cheek, but he put his own hand over it
first. He felt unable to speak. For the first hour in that room he'd
wanted nothing else than to get away and never return, to write it
all off as a mistake. And now that he was free again in the outside
world, now, when it would have been so easy to go away and never come
back, the memory of what had just happened was pouring into him like
a swift cold stream that had already quenched all his objections, and
all he wanted to do was return.