A male stokes up the courage to allow himself to be viewed in the flesh at an amateur literary guild meeting. He finds the other members who turn up are all women, and they are very interested in his tales, and more.

He'd been writing erotica for some time now, and had enjoyed a reasonable amount of feedback from the sites he'd frequented and had his stories published at. He'd been asked several times if he'd like to attend an informal meeting of authors from a site, all with similar interests. The majority of his work centred on his love of dominant females and the fantasies he often had about them. Meeting such women was a dream to him, and he was not sure about how his exposure would make him react. It was this that had kept him from attending till now.

On this occasion he had received persistent and friendly contact from several people on the site, and the meet was at a remote country pub; he was unlikely to meet anyone he knew from his mundane day to day life, and he thought discussing his tales, and his penchant for assertive women with other authors might prove therapeutic. He bit the bullet and mailed back to his contacts to say he'd be at the venue.

His mind was buzzing as he drove to the pub. He was a bag of nerves as he parked the car and walked in. He would case the joint first in order to get a feel of what he was in for; if the place was full of small beady-eyed men in plastic macs, he was off. He ordered a pint and a buxom woman behind the bar smiled at him as she pulled the pint for him. There were more women than men in the seated areas and he did not see anyone who looked remotely like they would possess a plastic mac. As he paid the bar maid she whispered to him on receiving the change.

"If you're here for the Erotic authors group, they're sat in the lounge round the back." He thanked her and plucked up the courage to walk round and see. There at the back, was a small and cosy lounge which looked quite busy, he walked straight in and looked for a suitable group of males to introduce himself to.

There were none. He hovered for a moment when an attractive middle aged woman stood up and asked if he was there for the meet? He replied in the affirmative and the woman smiled broadly.

"Do come and sit with us, you can introduce yourself, it's so good to have some male company; you're the only one so far!" The women made a space for him and then hemmed him in as they jostled eagerly to find out which author he was. He was hesitant at first as he did not want to offend any of these women; they all looked so middle class and upright. He then reasoned with himself; this is an erotica meeting you fool, that's why they're here.

He announced who he was and the women smiled wickedly at him. A buxom blonde of about 55 in a tight black dress with black stockings and sexy stilettos leaned into him with interest.

"I love your femdom novels; they are so realistic; are they based on your experiences, or is it pure fantasy?" He swallowed hard on a gulp of ale; he had nearly finished the pint already.

"It's all pure fantasy I'm afraid." The women giggled; somehow he had now made it quite apparent from his simple response, that these were his personal fantasies, rather than something which would simply provide a theme of interest in order to sell a book.

The women all looked at him knowingly; one puffed a little smoke at him to gain his attention, and smiled, she really wanted to blow it in his face. Her pussy was already tingling at the thought of having a genuinely submissive male sat opposite her; the possibilities of some entertainment were imminent.

Before he could say yes or no; one of the women had bought him another drink. She shuffled her shapely breasts at him, sitting down as he thanked her. She puffed herself up and poked her tongue out of one side of her mouth provocatively.

"Elaine Hardwicke will be here soon; she loves your tales and avidly awaits each publication on the site; she will be so pleased to meet you." The women smirked at each other and eyed him as they probed him with questions about his various tales; they took great delight in mentioning some of the more explicit parts, which had him blushing, but also gave him an erection; he was beginning to enjoy the subtle humiliation being worked by the women.

A warm and sweet smelling mature brunette, who had squeezed warmly up against him, had removed her shoe; she ran her stockinged foot up and down his calf as she listened to an account of a story. He was now more than a little conscious of the bulge in his trousers, which was now patently apparent. One of the women smiled as she looked up toward the entrance.

"Elaine's here." The woman who avidly read his tales was a stunning redhead, elegant and very shapely. Like some of the others she was dressed in black; a tight dress showing her curvy, ample body, set off with black stockings and stilettos. Her dress was forties style, and she was facially very, very, attractive. Her 5'8" or so made her a very imposing sight; the stilettos making her almost as tall as he. She must have been fifty, and her mature years only served to complete the picture. She was the epitome of any submissive man's dreams.