Red Riding Hood—The Femdom Version

by Xavier Bardine

Once upon a time there lived in a certain village a young country lass, the prettiest creature that ever was seen.

Her mother was beyond reason excessively fond of her; and her grandmother yet much more. This good woman caused to be made for her a red riding hood, which made her look so very exquisite that everybody called her Red Riding Hood.

One day her mother, having made some custards, said to her, “Go my Biddy, go and see how your grandmother does, for I hear she has been ill. Carry her a custard and this little pot of butter.”

Red Riding Hood set out immediately to go to her grandmother, who lived in another village. 

As she was going through the wood, she met with a neighbour, Mr Wolfe, who had a very great mind to ravish her, but he dared not, because of some faggot makers that were in the forest nearby.

He asked her where she was going.

The sweet girl, who did not fear Mr Wolfe, said to him, “I am going to see my grandmother and carry her a custard pie and a little pot of butter my mother sends.” 

“Does she live far off?” said Mr Wolfe.

“Aye,” said Red Riding Hood, “on the other side of the mill below yonder, at the first house on the village road.”

“Yes,” said Mr Wolf, “I'll go and see her too. I'll go this way and go you that, and we shall see who will be there soonest.” 

Mr Wolfe walked as fast as he could, taking the shortest path, and Red Riding Hood took a roundabout way, diverting herself by collecting nuts, gathering bouquets of flowers, and sitting upon fallen trees to dream of knights in shining armour.

It was not long before Mr Wolfe arrived at the old woman's house. He knocked at the door toc toc.

“Who's there?” 

“Your grandchild, Red Riding Hood,” replied Mr Wolfe, counterfeiting her voice, “who has brought you a custard pie and a little pot of butter mama sends you.” 

The good grandmother, who was in bed, because she was a little ill, called out, “Oh, I can tell that is you, Mr Wolfe. I am full glad you are here, for I need your help to visit the doctor. Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.”

Mr Wolf pulled the bobbin, and the door opened, and he lifted the grandmother from her bed and carried her direct to the physician, in whose care he left the good woman, returning quickly to the cottage before Red Riding Hood.

He shut the door, changed into the grandmother’s clothes and went into the grandmother's bed.

Red Riding Hood, who came soon afterwards, knocked at the door toc toc.

“Who's there?” called Mr Wolfe.

Red Riding Hood immediately recognised the voice of Mr Wolfe and answered, “It is Red Riding Hood, who has brought a custard pie and a little pot of butter for my grandmama, as you well know.” 

Mr Wolf called out, “Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.” 

Red Riding Hood pulled the bobbin, and the door opened. 

Mr Wolfe, seeing her come in, hid himself under the bedclothes. “Put the pie and the little pot of butter upon the stool, and come and get into bed with me.” 

“What have you done with my grandmama?” asked Red Riding Hood, and Mr Wolfe explained that he had carried her to the physician.

Red Riding Hood took off her red cloak and her dress and climbed into bed in her boots and stays.

She was greatly amazed to see how Mr Wolfe looked in her grandmama’s clothes, and said with a giggle, “Grandmama, what big arms you have!”

“All the better to embrace thee with, my pretty lass,” said Mr Wolfe.

“Grandmother, what big legs you have!” said Red Riding Hood, putting a hand under the bedclothes.

“All the better to kneel upon,” said Mr Wolfe.

“Grandmother, what big lips you have!” said Red Riding Hood.

“All the better to taste you with, you wicked child,” said Mr Wolfe.

“Grandmother, what a big tongue you have!” said Red Riding Hood.

“All the better to lick you with, my honey pot.” 

“Grandmother, what big teeth you have got!” 

“All the better to bite you with,” said Mr Wolfe, pretending to fall upon Red Riding Hood’s milky breasts like a beast of the night.

Red Riding Hood swatted him upon his long nose so that he covered his face with his hand and called her cruel.

Sitting up in bed and pointing at her lap, she spoke sternly to Mr Wolfe, saying, “You are very wicked, Mr Wolfe, and must be beaten for your sinful thoughts.”

Shamefaced, Mr Wolfe crawled upon the firm young thighs of Red Riding Hood, who pulled up her grandmother’s skirts, which Mr Wolfe tried to hold to himself, and beat him full sore on the rump with her bare hand until his skin glowed red and hot and he whimpered like a little girl.

“Shame on you, Mr Wolfe,” Red Riding Hood said, “you snivel like a wee boy and yet your sword grows long and hard. I shall have to tie you to the bed and sit upon your nose to teach you a lesson.”

So Mr Wolfe spread himself upon the bed and Red Riding Hood fastened him to the bedposts so that he could not escape. And then she sat comfortably upon his nose and ate up the custard pie she had brought for her grandmama, and squeezed her strong thighs together about Mr Wolfe’s face whenever he wriggled or gasped for air.

She sat thus for half an hour, enjoying many pleasant sensations while she closed her eyes and pretended Mr Wolfe was her very own captive prince, but at last she tired of this sport and she rose and put on her clothes and made for the door, leaving Mr Wolfe’s face as red as his rump.

“Oh! Please, Red Riding Hood, do not leave me!” Mr Wolfe cried plaintively, “What shall I say to your grandmama?”

“Have no fear,” Red Riding Hood said, “I shall ensure that the sheriff is here before my grandmama returns.”

“Oh! Please, Red Riding Hood, do not call the sheriff,” Mr Wolfe cried, “for then shall I be pilloried in the town square.”

“Precisely,” said Red Riding Hood with a sweet smile, “and there I shall see you on the morrow, and I shall attend to your rump with my favourite horse whip, so that next time you shall lie still when I sit upon your nose.”

And so, with a swish of her cape and a click of her heels on the wooden floor, Red Riding Hood closed the door behind her.