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Cross dressed slavery

... Japanese men in with absolute confidence. They were young and dressed in sharp black suits, with black sunglasses. They looked ... subject, but his natural desires, to be dressed like a woman, and especially to be dressed like this, in sweaters and wool, are ... ... Continue»
Posted by stig1963 3 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Fetish, Shemales  |  Views: 1663  |  
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Judith on the Cross

Judith is one of those lapsed Catholic girls who always wants to get back at her upbringing. She hates the self-righteousness, the paternalism, the hypocrisy. Before she could even spell those words or deconstruct the messages, she was a fervent non-believer. But the hidden messages of The Church still have a powerful resonance to her. A religion built around death. One that had dispensed it in quantity, too, through most of its history. It had an undertone of eroticism, a fascination for her that she's never shook off. And like many others, she'd obsessed over the weird and fetishistic deaths of the Saints. "Slice and Dice gone crazy, the Book of Saints," she'll say, with a shake of her head, and a rueful smile.

But more than anything else, she's also been hooked on the strangeness of crucifixion. Ever since she was about eight years old, and had a menacing, semi-transsexual nun teacher describe her own thinking about the physiological agonies of this form of execution, Judith has thought about it at least once every day. And often, it's when she is entertaining herself alone in bed, assuming all kinds of passive positions and spread-eagling herself dreamily. One day.

Now thirty and single, she sits in bra and panties watching a newscast from Mexico. Easter Friday, and some kooks in some dingbat southern province are putting on a bizarre ritual that points out the wackiness of the Catholic church and its peculiar entangling with Mayan and Aztec Indian concepts. In the blazing hot sun, three impassive Indian-featured guys --- with the dopey look that comes from being well-d**gged or totally ecstatic -- are hauling huge wooden crosses through the crowded streets of some provincial town. On their way to some re-enactment. Judith has clicked her video recorder on, and has turned down the volume of the dopey commentary. She sits entranced as the brief clip shows a close-up of one of these men's bl**dy, well-whipped back. Flagellants, like the Middle Ages. Then, hands roping him to the cross, dressed only in some cloth wrapped round his waist. Then, hauling it skyward. She finds herself sweating and trembling.

That night, in the darkened room, nude and bathed in sweat. She's watching the film clip over for what must be the fiftieth time. She stops rubbing herself, takes a belt of bourbon, lights a cigarette with trembling hands. She swears to herself, her time has come. She'll wait another year. No more.

Judith is immensely rich. How? The old-fashioned way. She inherited it, just a couple of years ago. She doesn't work now, but still has several close female friends from her software development days. Guys? A few, but she keeps them at a distance. Partly because she doesn't want them hanging round her just because of the smell of money. And partly because...well, she's not finding the kind she wants to be with for any length of time either. Her live-in girlfriend, Pia? She's kind-of-serious, but they have a pact not to be too intense, not to be too jealous. They could go permanent. Or not. How it will develop, they can't say. Pia is older, rather ascetic. A divorcee with a pragmatic attitude who's "good for her."

Did we picture her yet? Judith is quite small, in keeping with her Mediterranean genes. About 5' 4," slim from constant aerobics, abstemious diet. Not more than 100-lb. Longish, straight dark brown hair that falls to her shoulders. The things that men notice: slim calves, dainty feet, a warm smile, a friendly, but hearty laugh. And women: Delicate movements, sensitivity, clear, fresh skin, quite pale. She doesn't sunbathe or go to tanning salons. Bright, animated eyes behind her glasses. And both see: small, firm round breasts, a rounded, feminine backside that hasn't been over-exercised. Not quite a beauty, and never a model, but attractive. Someone given to sudden moments of quiet, of withdrawal. And what is the nature of "Judith's thing"? It's only partly defined. It's something she's still wrestling with. It's something she hasn't shared in great detail with lovers. But she flirts with it. She reads about it, all the time: for a woman, her pornography collection is remarkable. She thinks about it as she touches herself to sl**p. In doctrinaire moments, thinking feminist thoughts, she shakes it off. Male dominance. Female passivity. The curse of our time. Poison of relationships. The paradigm that has infected and warped all forms of popular thought. And yet... she wants it. She wants to be controlled. So her weakness has been men who ask a bit too much, without giving her what she wants. A little male snottiness and do-as-you're-told is fine, provided she can get a buzz. She's had one or two who'll play light- hearted bondage games with her. But not to her satisfaction. She wants it rougher than they've been prepared to give. She daydreams of being Exhibited. Admired-and-Mocked. Of feeling deep shame. Of how good it could be to be... Punished. Oh, how much she'd like that... and wouldn't that -- the Mexico thing? -- be the ultimate?

She's already thought 'Mexico' through, in great depth. She knows there's no way that the pious, if completely deluded campesinos are going to let a woman become part of their bizarre ritual. Especially some foreign woman, a complete outsider. It's a guy-only, freaks- for-Jesus only, thing. Oh, she can see the hidden dimensions, and guess the secret pleasures and motivations of what they do. But have an outsider join them? Not likely. And not within her timeframe. It's a shame, because the locale, the players are so appealing. But it can't be helped. For the same reasons, she rules out two other batches of fanatics she comes across. One in the Philippines, in San Fernando. There, a dozen of these guys let themselves be crucified each year. Another set of them in Poland, of all places. The San Fernando bunch give her particular encouragement, in their own way, though. One of the participants has been nailed each year, for a dozen years. That's right: and they don't stint on the detail work either. Helpers dressed in Roman legionnaire outfits, bare-back whippings before they go, even some poking and prodding with real sharp looking spears. And the nails aren't a fake: right through the hand, with a big fat hammer. With the squirts of bl**d to prove it. When her local video library turns up some footage of this after a search, she's amazed. Oh, isn't Catholicism wonderful? she thinks to herself as she watches it in a trance, both hands on her vulva.

So, find a substitute, babe. There's time, and she'll need it, because she needs to plan carefully.

A few weeks after the TV epiphany, she's told Pia her plan in quite a bit of detail. The woman is simultaneously shocked and yet anxious to help Judith. Why? So as to not have her make more of a mess than necessary. Judith won't be deterred, she knows. Pia in turn has been permitted to confide in two or three friends. Between them, they'll do the work. They begin their search by E-mail, by phone. Adverts are placed, answered. Replies are screened. Soon, they're meeting potential players. Interviewing. Assessing. Reporting back. Background checks. References. Former lovers. Always careful to preserve her anonymity.

Then, with the bills mounting fast, field trips. Negotiations. Contracts, even. Ones her lawyer won't even think of approving. So, she doesn't ask. Pia finds another, amenable female paralegal, a bondage aficionado, to draft them.

Judith so wants it to be Mexico, but, frankly she doesn't care. She'll pay almost any price, go anywhere. Just so long as it's right. La Gringa Loca. That's what they're calling her. Her request is crazy. Not to mention blasphemous, obscene. Just crazy. There are shrugs, doubts. Outright contempt. Pia's negotiating skills are tested. But in the end, who can resist the kind of money that's being offered? There's plenty to go around, it seems. And anyway, it's a chance to be part of Hollywood, with these cameras set up and all. Yes. Judith wants this immortalized on film.

All over the Third World, you'll see hands stretch out and grasp, grins erupt, principles get quietly forgotten, rules broken, age old customs change. All for the dollar, and the chance of video fame.

Here, too.

A dusty little town. Not Mexico, but close enough. It's hot in February, and on the edge of a furnace in April. Good Friday dawns. Judith arrived late last night with Pia. The film crew, the other players have been here for a few days, setting up, rehearsing.

The battered cab stops at the third place, around 7:30AM. Pia, dressed in her best Banana Republic chic, hops out. She's very prim, very businesslike. The briefcase full of dollars impresses the Chief of Police. Fat, balding, unshaven. His uniform a crumpled mess. He fondles the money, weighs it, counts it again. He nods. "There will be no interference. You have a deal, senora." Before the police? The cathedral. The mayor. The final payments.

Back at the cheap hotel, Pia meets Judith in the garden. Under the shade trees, they take coffee.

Judith tells her with a smile: "Everything will be fine. You've done well. Did you get it, by the way?"

Pia cocks her head.

"You betrayed me three times before the day really got started..."

Pia can only say, suddenly rather anxious, "Jude, I hope everything will be okay. Stop now, if you don't think it will. The money doesn't matter, does it?"

Judith shakes her head and smiles. "Not a bit. It's not been that much, anyway..."

She pauses. "Let's go ahead. No, listen for one more minute, Pea, baby ... don't be so damned anxious, okay? It's all been planned properly, and it's what I want. Understand?"

Everything happens quickly now. It's a blur. A half-dozen cops muscle their way into the garden, start shouting at her. Handcuffs are waved. Judith submits and is led away.

She's under arrest, being taken to the police station. Down to cellar. Strip searched by four dike cops who take the opportunity to paw her, put their fingers in her vagina, then seeing how wetly she responds, to fistfuck her. When they're through, they smirkingly hand her over to a half-dozen guys in a cell for a rough gangbang, with Pia and three or four girlfriends numbly watching through the bars. It only breaks up when the cops return, throw in her clothes and tell her to get dressed for a magistrate's court appearance, right now. She's rushed upstairs for a rigged pre-trial hearing for blasphemy, obscenity, public indecency, prostitution. The prosecutor's story is that she is there with the idea of making some vile porno flick. A fortyish, disapproving lady judge (an actress) agrees there's a clear case. Rather than waiting on a jury, the gathering crowd outside - getting quite hysterical -- is allowed to decide her punishment. She looks shocked as they call out: "Crucify her! Crucify her!"

As their contribution, a group of scowling nuns take her onto a balcony above the courtroom steps and give her a public scourging, bare to waist... Then, barebreasted like that, she's made to drag a wooden cross -- huge and heavy: brought in from a truck by three big guys, and 15-ft high and 6-ft. across -- through the streets, crowded as a Middle Eastern market, pursued by yapping dogs, some teenage urchins -- and up to the top of the hill overlooking. Three teenage schoolgirls, encouraged by nuns, and armed with birches, get the job of hustling her along. She's jeered, spat on, pelted with food and trash.

It's noon, and blazing hot. The crowd waiting there is huge, and in a festive mood, anticipating a fun day out. There are colorful umbrellas and sunshades, picnic tables, food vendors. There's a concrete plinth with steps leading up. She's given a little help getting the cross up there: it's just too heavy. It's laid over some trestles. Judith is filthy: She's hosed down, knocked to her knees by the jet, and sobs with frustration.

The Chief of Police appears, a cameo role he'd insisted on. Through a loudhailer, her numerous imaginary crimes are briefly recounted, the list growing by the minute, to booing and shouts of approval as her sentence is confirmed. He's happy to give his blessing, and makes them happy by concluding: "In keeping with her crimes, it's got to be 'Naked' for her."

To steady slow handclapping and jeering, she's dragged to her feet. Her clothes are torn off: she's made to turn round, bend over and otherwise show herself, to prove she's really nude. It gets an ecstatic reaction from the crowd. The guys are cheering and slobbering, the women look content at her getting her comeuppance. She's tied spread-eagled between a pair of stout wooden posts, her skin incongruously white in the bright sunlight, and whipped some more. She's pleading for mercy, then yelping with pain. But it's only the beginning. Pia has brought along a beaded cat o' nine tails, a long bullwhip, some bamboo canes, all handpicked by Judith. They're handed out and used on all this temptingly bare skin, by a succession of volunteers. Her backside and legs, yes, but also her belly, breasts and pubis. It's done out of pure vindictiveness, and their cruelty and delight in prolonging her suffering shocks Judith. She's slapped and punched, has her hair pulled, gets her nipples pinched, and is viciously clawed at by some of the women who join their guys in tormenting her. They're spiteful. But it's all done with Pia's vigorous approval. "It's in the spirit of what you wanted," she says with a shrug. "You'd be mad at me after if I didn't say yes to them helping." It's true. But it hurts. By the time they're through flogging and thrashing her, Judith is half-stunned, bruised and sore, bleeding from numerous cuts and welts. She has a fat lip, a blackening eye, a bl**dy nose.

Now, something to worry about: crucifixion. Tight ropes, straps, holding her arms outstretched. With a little more ingenuity, she's strapped with ankles together and knees wide apart, to show her sex as vulgarly as possible. But the straps on her legs will give minimal support. The hot sun is bothering her, and she's greased with sun lotion. Flies are buzzing around her, ants are crawling, because she's sweating and bl**dy. Dildoes are put in both her orifices and left there for a while, loosely taped in place. There's a stink of arousal, and she's dripping on her thighs. She hears lots of ribald laughter, unsympathetic comments as she twists and moans. She comes, to the amusement and contempt of the circle of tormentors. They're amused to see that Judith has neatly trimmed her pubic bush, and completely shaved her labia and underbelly to make a better display of herself. Looking at photos later, Pia will see that some S&M prankster briefly attaches clips to Judith's swollen nipples and labia at one point when she's not paying attention.

Pia is in close attendance to monitor the final touches. With the help of a doctor, and a proper CAT scan, they've pre-marked with indelible ink the precise points on the palms of her hands they want, so they'll miss bones, tendons, nerves. A paramedic is here to help, too. With no anesthetic, long thin nails -- highly polished surgical steel, no more than one-sixteenth inch in diameter -- are driven through them with a mallet, deep into the wood. Her shrieks are disturbing, but it doesn't stop them. She's given a stiff drink of brandy, laced with painkiller and some mescaline. Pia consults with her, and decides Judith doesn't need a gag.

A final jibe: A barbed wire crown is rammed down on her brow, along with a garland of wilted flowers and a rosette bearing the slogan Crazy Bitch...then the cross is tilted up, higher and higher in the air, and locked into a preformed posthole in the platform. She's way off the ground, maybe six feet or more. Her ankles are at eye level for most. Her weight is supported by the straps, not the nails. As she hangs there, she can hear the voice of the nun from her c***dhood, talking about the asphyxia, the dehydration, the muscular cramps, the loss of bl**d, the shock. She pisses with fear, splashing the Police chief, to the immense amusement of those below.

The clothes she was wearing -- and every shred of underwear, clean and dirty, from her luggage -- are auctioned, along with swatches of cloth dipped in her pussy juice, held up to her on a pole. Souvenir sellers are doing gangbusters trade. And the local portrait artist. Judith sees a number of guys -- and several women - surreptitiously masturbating at the sight of her there.

Pia briefly visits, climbing a ladder leaned against the back of the cross and whispering in her ear. Despite her moans and shudders, she wants to stay, she feebly tells her.

There's a steady stream of watchers who want to have their photo taken at the foot of the cross, grinning happily, in f****y groups, pointing to her proudly, young men goggling at her naked genitals, some more sensitive souls repulsed by the trickles of genuine bl**d. Her cries fade.

Nearer sunset, the crowd senses nothing much new is going to happen. Just the inevitable, maybe. But so what? That's her problem. Meantime, they're getting hungry, and the real action is long over. It starts to break up. The Police Chief braves a trip up the ladder, this time carrying a hefty staple gun. Explaining that there's been "far too much n*********a at the local morgue recently," he zaps fat copper packaging staples through her labia, then threads a wire through them and crimps on a police seal. Judith is too stunned and too hoarse to do more than sob weakly.

At nightfall, Pia declares the ordeal completed. But before the cross can be lowered and Judith dumped on a stretcher, a second bribe has to be made: the Police Chief, unamused about being urinated on, says with a scowl: "Let the bitch die." It could happen, if he wants it to. They don't have much choice. Money soon changes his mind. Half-u*********s and hallucinating, she's rushed out of town, and medevaced to Miami by private plane, for a week in an ICU to recover.

Her first question, the following Friday: "How's the film look?" Pia can tell her quite honestly that the first cuts and rushes she's seen show it's going to be stunning, disturbing, erotic, all the things Judith wanted it to be. Spoofing, she tells her: "You were just divine." In a few weeks, she can start earning her investment back by retailing it to pornoloving pervs, if she wants. They talk about it for an hour or two, then Pia leaves her to catch up on her sl**p. A doctor stops by. Her stigmata are prominent, and may need a little cosmetic surgery, if she gets bashful about them. Judith doesn't think she will. She's a little anxious about her pudendum: she's allowed to take a look. She's been shaved, but she's acquired some interesting new scars. They'll fade, she's told. But if she wants a pair of the piercings replugged and kept open for labial rings, she should say so soon. Oh yes, she says, she definitely does. She shows him a chain round her neck that Pia just brought: three trophies -- a naked female on a cross, and the Police seal, silver plated. And a small gold medallion that reads: "This attests that the notorious pervert Judith Christina Martinelli was publicly crucified, naked, at San Marcos on Easter 1993."... Continue»
Posted by cdod 4 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM  |  Views: 618  |  
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night out all dressed up....

as a cross dresser and not a gay cross dresser what happened the other evening was quite amusing to me, i had spent the entire day around my home, dressed in my usual black satin underwear and a satin dressing gown, i had nothing to do so I got all dressed up, wearing white satin panties, bra, suspenders and black stockings, I decided to wear a red dress, not to tarty, nee length with a lovely top, feeling very special I was now putting on all the make up and lipstick (red to match of coarse) red shoes and I was fit, didnt look to bad for a bloke !!!(I would have given it one!!)out of the door and into my car, don't think the neighbours noticed, it was now about 8 o clock on a lovely summers evening, i drove to a lovely spot in the country ive been to before, i parked up a got out to see who may be about, i couldn't see anybody but there was a car parked across the roadway. nobody was in the car, I wonder were they are? couldn't see anybody for miles, never mind ill go for a walk around the area, hope I don't know anybody here.. just the feeling of freedom was lovely,the feel of satin and the movement of the dress on my legs, there was a slight breeze which helped to move the dress as I walked, god this is wonderful ,I now had covered about a mile, I had a semi erect penis, this was so lovely, the feel and freedom, its hard to explain but I would love to be a woman for a while, but coz then it wouldn't be the same because I wouldn't have my penis and the feelings would be different wouldn't they ?? anyway I could hear noises up ahead, not very load to start with, there it was again, its a females whisper, no two woman .. I has quite close now, what to do? carry on walking? if they speak they will know im a bloke with a problem..im all dressed up, in the middle of no were, what do I do!! I had a bit of a panic but it was now to late anyway, they had seen me and I had seen them. these were middle aged women, half naked, they looked like rabbits caught in the headlights !!! I had nothing to worry about, it looked like they were having a whale of a time, I apologised and tried not to look at this lovely pair of tits, they were perfect. as I backed away the brunet asked if I was ok with the lesbian sight I had stumbled upon ,she said her name was Susan and this was her best friend Christine, they were not lesbians but enjoyed a "bit of fun sometimes",i had to talk back to them , as soon as I spoke they roared with laughter, this was so embarrassing I made a quick exit, as I pulled away, susan spoke to me saying how sorry she/they both were,"how can I laugh at you when were here making love as two women?" Christine had blonde highlights and a lovely figure, they were both about 35 or 36, susan was slightly bigger than Christine but were both very attractive, I would have said about a size 14 and a 16,anyway by now they were both dressed, I said how sorry I was that they had been interrupted and I would leave them alone to enjoy each other.. they than asked me to stay and talk while they carried on again, I said I wouldn't mind in the slightest!! as they started to kiss and caress each other susan asked why I do this? not watch lesbians but dress up and go out as a woman? as I started to explain about the urges to dress and act as a woman dos, the feeling of satin and silk, by this time things were hotting up with the girls,susan was now apart from pink satin knickers was naked and muffing Christine, who was now naked, I was getting a bit clammy and hot myself, I could feel my very hard penis pressing against my satin knickers, there was also a very wet patch appeared on the front of my dress, the stupid thing is ive got these two lovely girls moaning and groaning with pleasure, the smell of hot bodys and a musty smell from all the wet fingers/fannies but I just wanted to try there clothes on, see how they felt, what they smelt of suck the wet bits. as I was dreaming susan had lifted my dress and started sucking my penis through the knickers, christine was sucking susan, as they both started to come Christine asked for me to fuck her, fuck her as hard as I could, I started to strip while inside her but was told not to. I had to stay dressed up as a woman but with a penis which was now bursting, i was fucking Christine how was liking/sucking susan while susan was now holding her wet knickers to my lips, the smell of her on the crouch and the feel of the satin was to much, my penis exploded, but not before pulling out of Christines fanny and nearly into her mouth,as I came it sprayed up the side of her face and into her blonde hair, whoops susan tried to suck it out of her hair but just made things worse,her hair was now stuck in a matted knot, oh dear, this didn't go down to well, she called me stupid and that hubby will know, I said how sorry I was and offered to do anything I could, which wasn't much, she dressed and stormed off leaving susan to clean up and dress, Christine stormed off and left susan. as she wheel spun out onto the road we could hear her tyres screaming up the road, I said sorry to susan, as she got dressed she said that Christine had always been spoilt, them started to laugh about it, as she said there was a cross dressed bloke and two randy females what did she think would happen, whats a bit of spunk between friends? I started talking to susan as she dressed and walked on, i said that I had liked her clothes and she said how pretty I had looked, she asked if I wanted to try some of her clothes on, given a chance like this I said yes, we walked back to my car and I drove her to her flat, "ill check all ok then you can come up", when she re appeared she said follow her, as it was now 11.00 it was getting late, I made my excesses and drove off ,when I got home I slipped in doors stripped off and cleaned up, what an evening, will I ever have the nerve again to speak to this woman, or call bye one day ??... Continue»
Posted by andicoral 7 months ago  |  Categories: Lesbian Sex, Sex Humor  |  Views: 445  |  
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Cross Dressers First Time

I was in my mid 40's and divorced and living a great life. I ran my own successful from home and lived in a large house in it's own grounds at least 5 miles from my nearest neighbour.

Whilst I was single I had an active sex life having been lucky enough to know 3 ladies who were unattached and had no need for a long term relationships but were happy to meet up for sex or go away for a break all no strings attached. They all knew of each other and I was aware they saw other men or ladies if they wished.

Debi was 50 a successful lawyer and very dirty. Helen was 60 a retired business woman sexy and great in bed and Sarah was my age a nurse who loved sex and could use me all night.

What I kept quiet and has since I was young was that I cross dressed. I now had a locked closet full of ladies, clothes, lingerie, shoes and wigs and make up. I would indulge myself and dress as my alter ego Paula at least once a month and enjoy time being a sexy lady. The dressing relaxed me and I had never really seen myself as gay or bi it was just my bit of fun.

I had only ever been seen twice in ladies clothes. Once, shortly after my divorce, when I visited a dressing service as I knew I would be dressing more often and the other time I visited an e****t and wore panties and stockings when we had sex.

He dressing service helped me look quite passable. I was only 5 feet 7 and slim and fairly hair free. I now kept myself completely waxed which I explained was due to the fact I did a lot of cycling (no lie).

I had found myself drawn more to cross dresser porn and often fantasised about sex with men but apart from dressing cam sessions I had never had a sexual encounter with a man and saw myself as curious only.

It was a December day and I had decided to be Paula for the day. I had put on white lace lingerie including lacy boy shorts. I had put on suspenders and cream stockings with black seams. I slipped on a short little black dress which showed off my slim legs and some black stilettos. I applied some discreet make up and my block bob wig. I was not worried about surprise visitors as the only way on to my property was through security gates and I has a sophisticated alarm system which would warn of intruders.

I did some work during the day enjoying the thought of clients and my broker talking to me unaware that I was dressed up as (even though I say so myself) a sexy milf. By the afternoon I had done my work and logged onto my computer and started looking at some of my favourite porn sites and enjoyed the films of some hot cross dressers I stroked myself through my panties but held off cumming as I planned a long night of porn and cum as I was not expecting to see anyone that evening. Pre-cum oozed through the lace panties and I decided to stop for a while and get a drink and watch the news. Due to my location I rarely closed the curtains and I could see outside that snow was falling so I decided to pop out and get some logs for my wood burner. I slipped of my shoes and put on my trainers but otherwise I went out as Paula. I got some wood from my store I went back into the house. I slipped off my trainers and padded in my stocking feet to my wood burner and began to put wood in the stove. As I closed the door a hand was clasped over my face. I went rigid with shock.

“ Surprise!” rasped a husky voice. “I bet you thought all that security was fool proof didn’t you you sissy fag?”

“Well it isn't. I've been watching you online and through you stupidly big windows for weeks, Nice of you to give me those shows,”

“I'm going to take my hand away. No point in screaming no one will hear.” He laughed as he turned me around.

I saw a man in his 30's about5 feet 11. Muscular, hairy and dressed in a blue overall with the logo of my alarm systems installers on them/

“I haven't any cash in the house but take any valuables you want,” I whispered.

“I'm not here to rob you I'm here to have you,” he leered.

I gasped and tried to break free nut he was far stronger than me.

“You'll go to prison,” I said.

“Not when people see the videos I have of you dressed up and camming for men asking them to fuck you.. Your whole house is wired and some of your cam games were for me Tommyboy1245.”

My head was reeling I couldn't believe this was happening to me. I thought I had been so discreet. Scandal would ruin me.

He moved over to my sofa and undid his overalls revealing a very hairy naked hard muscular body with a cock already hardening. It wasn't huge but for the first hard cock I'd seen in real life it was scary.

“On your knees Paula I need a warm mouth around me,” His hands f***ed me down and he sat on my sofa legs spread. He pulled me towards him and my head moved towards his glistening circumcised cock.

“Start sucking baby or your world gets blown apart,”

I slowly lowered my mouth and put my lips on his cock. I tasted salty muskiness and began to take more into my mouth, I wanted to gag but somehow kept it in, I remembered the films I'd seen and began wanking and sucking the cock,

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh yeah baby I have wanted this for weeks. I knew you were a sissy cock sucking bitch” he moaned.

Despite myself my cock was rigid in my lace panties. After a few minutes he groaned and I felt him go rigid and a gush of hot spunk hit my mouth. I tried to pull away but he held me tight and made me swallow. The salty seed slid down making me feel sick but smutty and horny. I had often had this fantasy the reality was scarier and more exciting.

“Nice work Paula you suck cock like a pro. Now lets have scotch and you the you can take that dress off.”

I fixed his drink and then slowly took off my dress revealing my sexy lingerie and hard cock.

“Your a big gurl for a sissy. “Tommy said looking at my 7 inch cock, It's size surprised all my partners.

“Come over here and sit on the sofa.” he said and patted the seat. As I walked over he removed all of his clothing and sat down next to me completely naked, He took me in his arms and pulled me to his mouth and began to kiss me his tongue sliding into my mouth. I had never kissed a man and found myself responding to him and began using my tongue. His rough hands ran over my body and I found my hand on his hard again cock. I stroked him and he moaned and kissed me harder. His hand slid into my panties and a finger found my ass and slid inside me. He worked my ass and I found I was moving myself on his now 3 fingers, He pulled away and lay pushed me down on to my back and he reached into his overalls and brought out a tube of lube. He pulled my panties aside and began putting lots of lube in my ass.

“Time to lose your cherry Paula.”

He took his time entering me until I could feel him fully in me, At first it was painful but the more he worked me the better it felt. After 20 minutes my legs were around his back as he fucked me. Eventually he stiffened and shouted out my name as a gush of cum filled my ass. He collapsed on me and we kissed again. I could not believe I had enjoyed it so much.

The rest of the evening was spent with him using me in every position. He must have cum 5 times and I had cum in my own panties.

We feel asl**p on the rug in my lounge with Tommy caressing my cock.

I heard a bleep and woke with a start. I was covered in a blanket and alone, I was wearing cum covered lingerie and the room smelt of sex. I had no idea where Tommy was,

In heard the bleep again and looked at my computer. I saw Debi's smiling face.

“Hi darling didn't I tell you a £1000 spent at Fantasies Cum True was worth it. Thanks for telling me about Paula and putting the cam on. I frigged my cunt so hard last night watching your deflowering. I will be over tonight to meet Paula” She stood up showing her fit naked body wand the 8 inch strap on dildo she was wearing.

I smiled “looking forward to it sexy.”

“Maybe we could book them for some joint fun,” she said.

“That would be great "I sighed,

I drifter off to sl**p again dreaming of last night.
... Continue»
Posted by webbyhose 1 year ago  |  Categories: Anal, First Time, Gay Male  |  Views: 1799  |  
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Cross Dressing to go to Girls' School

As a boy I was slim and in some ways feminine looking. For example it used to annoy me when I went into a shop with the hood of my coat up because of the weather to be addressed as “hen” rather than “son” – these being terms used in the Glasgow area back then.

I went to a co-educational school and had a great time with the girls I met there, all the way from my first day in “primary one” to the sixth form. I did have a fling with one of the PE teachers there brought on by too much to drink after winning some athletics cup or something. But that didn’t have anything to do with cross dressing.

There was an all-girls school a few miles from mine and quite a few of us boys had girlfriends there. Probably because we had got a bit bored with the girls we had grown up with through school. A few of us were messing around in someone’s house and someone commented on my “good looks”. I wasn’t yet shaving and I also had what several females described as “eyelashes and eyebrows to die for”. We had been drinking and so when someone suggested that I could pass as a girl at the next day’s Morning Assembly at the girls’ school the idea was taken up enthusiastically by all present. They didn’t know that I cross dressed as often as I could and so instead of being embarrassed I was actually quite aroused by the idea.

I went home that night with stockings, suspenders, bra, knickers and shoes belonging to the girl whose house we were in at the time. I couldn’t have her blouse, skirt or blazer because she would need them and didn’t have a spare and so another girl promised to bring her spare clothes the next day together with a long haired wig for me to wear.

I went to the girls’ school early next morning dressed as a boy but with the female undies on. I was smuggled into the Form Common Room to get dressed in the rest of my outfit. When the girl who was bringing them turned up she didn’t have the skirt or blazer with her as her mother had taken them to be cleaned so instead she took hers of and I got into them.

With some subtle light makeup and my wig firmly attached I went with the other girls (apart from the one who had lent me her clothes) to the assembly. I don’t remember what was said and anyway I was so damned exited by the adventure I probably didn’t hear a word. All I do know is that it overran because of some announcement or other and everyone had to rush like blazes to get to their classrooms in time for the first lesson of the day.

Of course I couldn’t as I had to go back to the Common Room to let the girl have her clothes back so she could go to class. I was going to have to wait until it was all clear and try and creep out unseen. By the time I arrived back the girl was getting very agitated about being late and was desperate for me to get out of her clothes. Remember she was in her blouse and undies which I have to say looked good on her.

When she was kneeling to help remove her skirt from me and got sight of my erect cock poking out of a pair of her lacy knickers she said “fuck lessons let’s stay here”. So we did. Thankfully I had a packet of condoms in my school bag but sadly only one was left but we put that to good use.

Ninety minutes later when there was a lesson break we had tidied ourselves up and I managed to extract myself from the school grounds fairly easily. However my girlfriend was suspicious – she wasn’t the girl involved in the fucking – and I’m afraid to say that when she later had those suspicions confirmed we had rather a nasty scene which ended up with neither of the girls speaking to me.

But what the heck – it was worth it!
... Continue»
Posted by daviea9 1 year ago  |  Categories: Fetish, Masturbation, Shemales  |  Views: 2513  |  
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Caught cross dressed part 1

My name is Philip. I am married to a beautiful woman called Helen, and a few days ago... I did something very stupid!

My wife, her mother, her beautician, my P.A. from work, and any of their friends, (in fact, anyone that they choose,) are now completely in control of my life. They are my Mistresses, and I am fully subservient to their every desire. In fact, I am now nothing more than their sex-slave!

Recently, whilst I thought that my wife was visiting her mother, and would not be back all weekend, I decided to indulge myself.

I resolved to use the time to pamper myself, and to pander to my secret fantasy. As soon as she'd left the house, I stripped naked... I showered, and then depilated almost all of the hair on my body below the neck, leaving only a tiny amount around my pubis. I took out my secret stash of women's clothing, separating the various items, and I lay them on the bed.

I sorted out what it was that I wanted to wear, and without pause, I began to dress. I could hardly contain my excitement... it was not often that I had the opportunity to become my 'alter-ego,' and I relished the thought of becoming a woman for the rest of the weekend!

I have been a 'closet' transvestite for many years now, but I had never found the courage to reveal this fact to my wife... I believed that she would be less than understanding, and that it might even threaten to destroy our relationship. I was not prepared to risk a divorce over it!

Little did I realise how severe, and how life-changing a reaction, I was to incite...

I began by putting on my lace-topped, fishnet hold-up stockings. I followed this with a bra, filling it with some silicon 'falsies' that I had bought a few months back... and gluing them to my chest with the adhesive which had come with them at the time of purchase.

I pulled on a pair of 'Sex-Cache' knickers, especially made to hold my cock between my legs, thus hiding my manhood, so that there would be no bulge through my clothing. I decided to wear a waist-clincher... a corset that I'd bought, which could reduce my waist to a very feminine twenty-four inches!

With my undergarments on, I chose to wear a leather mini-dress, which only came down about three inches below my panties... and that showed off the lacy tops of my stockings. I chose some ankle-boots to wear on my feet... they were the highest heels that I owned, and at six-inches in height... I would need to concentrate whilst I walked, so as not to topple over!

I sat at my wife's make-up table, and began to transform my facial features. I thinned my eyebrows, plucking them just enough that I could return to my male persona with minimal explanation.

The foundation came next. I applied it quite thickly over my face and my neck, so as to cover any stubble that might grow during my 'dressed' phase. I lined my eyes with Kohl pencil, and used super-lengthening mascara on my lashes. I delicately applied colour to my lids, added some blusher to my cheeks, and then went to work on my lips. I outlined them with a dark lip pencil, and then chose a scarlet red for my lips. I covered the lot with an 'extreme-shine' lip-gloss, highlighting the lusciousness of my now very visible mouth.

I decided to go the whole hog, and I attached long false nails to my fingers... I did so using very strong glue, knowing that I had at least two days before I'd have to remove them. Once they were attached, I varnished them, using a high gloss red that matched my lips. From my collection of wigs, I chose a shiny, straight haired wig in pure black. It was long, and it came down as far as my lower back. I enjoyed this, as I could swish it around as I walked. In the mirror, I was pleased to see a very sexy looking woman in the reflection!

I was sure that any men who laid their eyes on me, would think that I was a 'dirty bitch,' and would want to try getting into my knickers!

I went downstairs, and decided that I would have a quick nap before deciding what my plans would be for the day. I lay down on the couch, and I closed my eyes, deciding that I would wake up in an hour or so... Something disturbed my sl**p, and I slowly drew awake.

As I awakened, I opened my eyes, and gently lowered my feet to the floor. I hadn't bothered to remove my boots, and so when I stood, I wobbled slightly as I found my footing. Although everything was silent, I 'felt' a presence behind me. Slowly, and with some trepidation, I turned around and faced the entrance to the room. Standing there, framed in the doorway, I saw the outline of three women.

My bl**d went cold! As my eyes adjusted to the light, and the shapes in doorway became clearer. I realised who it was that I was seeing. Standing there, as still as statues, shocked by what they were seeing, were three women... My wife, Helen... her mother, Susan... and my P.A. from work, Karen!

I was stunned, afraid and humiliated. I had been caught, in a most embarrassing situation... I was standing before them, crossdressed in fully feminine attire... including my sexy undergarments, my high heels... and a wig! I was fully made up, too... not only facially, but also including the long, varnished false nails that I had applied to my fingers... and the silicon breast pads that realistically filled the cups of the bra that I was wearing!

"How long have you been standing there? What are you doing home? I thought you weren't coming back here until Monday night, after your visit to your mother's." I stammered out, not knowing what to say.

"Obviously!" Helen replied.

"What's Karen doing here? I almost understand that you could return with your mother in tow... but how come Karen's here too?" I blurted out, blushing profusely.

"Oh... We were just lucky, I suppose! She came to deliver an important document to you, so that you could sign it tonight... and so that she could get it in the last post."

I blushed once again, glancing briefly in Karen's direction. I hadn't noticed Susan reaching into her bag, and taking out her mobile phone, until a bright flash appeared from her hand. I realised that she had switched her phone to 'camera' mode... and now had photographic evidence of what I was wearing, and of the way that I currently looked... evidence of me, fully 'feminised!'

I tried to move behind the sofa, so that I could kneel behind it, and hide from her camera... but before I could do so, my wife sternly said:

"Don't you dare try and hide! Stay exactly where you are. I want you in plain sight, so that we can take more photos of you! You chose to dress like this... so you will live with the consequences!"

I froze in place, unsure of how I should react. Helen had always enjoyed having something over me. She liked being in control, and being able to f***e me into doing things that I wouldn't normally want to do.

Having the upper hand was a power play for her... and it was just the way she liked our relationship to be! Until now though, the things she'd made me do were of no real consequence... cleaning the house, and fashion shopping with her... things like that. Now though, she had me over a barrel!

All three women now held their camera phones in their hands, and I saw them all taking pictures of me in my predicament!

"We can all see that you prefer being dressed as a woman... no, as a tart, and a slut... so, if you two ladies agree with me... I think that you should remain in feminine clothing for the rest of the weekend... the whole of next week... taking a week's holiday from work... and next weekend too!" Helen said, looking at her mother and at my P.A. for their support. The three women agreed at once, grinning broadly to one another... and my fate was sealed!

"You can't do this to me. You can't make me do it against my wishes. What if I say no? You can't f***e me to keep these clothes on! I live here, and all of my own 'male' clothing is here... it's in my room!"

As soon as I'd pointed this out to them, I knew that I'd made a serious mistake. Helen undid and removed her belt from the waist of her jeans, indicating to her mother to do the same, and Karen removed the long scarf from around her neck.

Within seconds, I'd been surrounded. I could feel my body being immobilised, as Helen grabbed my arms, securing them behind my back with her leather belt, whilst my knees were bound together by her mother, with hers... and before I could protest, Karen had gagged me, tying her scarf around my head, securely in my mouth!

My wife left the room momentarily, and went up to our bedroom... the next thing that I knew, a duvet cover was pulled over me, and the three women had carried me out of the house... dumping me unceremoniously into the boot of my mother-in-law's car!

I heard the women getting into the car, the engine starting, and off we went!

I could scarcely believe what was happening to me. I was being k**napped, by my own wife, her mother, and a close work colleague... all whilst I was made up and dressed as a sexy woman! God only knew what they had in store for me, but it was sure to be highly embarrassing... and humiliating enough to furnish them with more than enough evidence to allow them to f***e me to comply with their every wish... maybe even to allow them to blackmail me into repeating this experience in the future!

'How did I get into this situation?' I thought to my self. 'This is entirely of my own doing! It's my own stupidity that got me into this, and I am the only one to blame!' We drove for what seemed like hours. The engine stopped, and I felt the girls hauling me out of the boot. I was carried a short distance, and dumped onto a solid floor. The duvet cover was removed. I was pulled to my feet, and my gag was taken out of my mouth.

"Are going to be a good girl, Pippa? We can't call you Philip anymore... it's a boy's name... and for the next eleven days, you'll be a girl. A slave-girl, in fact... or, more accurately... OUR slave-girl! If you promise us that you'll be obedient, and will do exactly as you're told... we will release you from your bonds. If not... well, you can imagine!" Susan, my mother-in-law asked me.

Looking at my surroundings, I realised that we were in my mother-in-law's weekend cabin. It was miles from the nearest town or village, in a large forest... so, I had no chance of help arriving, and even if I tried escaping, it would mean several hours walk... fully crossdressed, in six-inch heels... only to arrive somewhere that may give a 'feminised' man a hostile reception.

My goose was surely cooked!

"Yes... I'll be good. I have no choice, do I?"

"Karen... You've been awfully quiet so far." My wife said. "Why don't you tell us what you think we should do with our new girly, 'submissive' sex-toy?" Helen asked.

"I'd love to," she replied, "as he's very demanding at the office. I'd love to turn the tables on him for a while, but you don't think that he'll fire me for it later... Do you, Helen?"

"He wouldn't dare, Karen." My wife replied, "Remember... we are going to record a lot of this... photographically, and on video! If he tries anything at the office, just tell me... and I'll post it all over the Internet!"

I gulped... having no doubt at all that she meant it!

"Let's untie him then, and see how subservient he/she really is!" Karen laughed aloud, as she suggested this to the others."

My arms and legs were released from their bondage, but I knew that any resistance was futile, so I bowed my head, and I asked:

"What do you want of me? How can I keep you from destroying my life with these photos and things? Why are you doing this, Helen? I didn't want to hurt or upset you... I just wanted to have a weekend fulfilling my fantasy, and dressing up for a bit!"

"You never told me that this was one of your fantasies... a pretty major one too, by the looks of things. This certainly wasn't your first time doing this! So... by omission, you have lied to me! When I was a k**, my mother always taught me that it was wrong to lie... and that if she ever caught me doing so, I would be punished! Isn't that so, mum?"

"Yes dear... and I think that you are doing the right thing. How can you trust a man who lies to you? I've always preached that the punishment must fit the crime... I'm with you all the way on this one. He wants to be a girl... so... let's show him everything that a girl must do! What's more, Pippa must be punished for lying! Karen, you and I must discuss how best to do this! Do you both agree?" Helen and Karen both nodded in agreement.

"Mum, I think that we three should talk in private!" Helen said.

"Let's tie her 'spread-eagle' to the bed then!" Karen added, getting an immediate vote of agreement from the other two.

I was immediately led to the Mistress bedroom, where I was instructed to lay on my back, and where my arms and legs were firmly secured to the bedposts! The three women exited, leaving me alone... bound, helpless, and feeling very vulnerable!

I couldn't believe it... although I was alone and tied up... I was beginning to get excited!

My 'Cache-Sex' panties were made to hide my dick in my femme clothes, but were not designed to do so if I were spread-eagle on a bed... and with my legs spread widely apart. I could feel my hard-on, trying to free itself from its knicker-clad prison. I hated to think what would happen, if the women saw that I'd begun to get excited, due to my imprisonment and my servitude to them!

"Helen, you are my daughter, and I love you with all of my heart. I'm sure that you know that any advice that I give you is only that which I believe to be in your own best interest. Karen, it seems to me that you have arrived here at a most fortuitous moment... and, I hope that you will be willing to help my daughter and me to teach her perverted husband... your 'kinky' boss... a lesson that he'll never forget!" Susan said to the other two 'shocked' women.

"You've got something in mind, haven't you mum?" Helen replied.

"What are you planning Susan?" Karen asked.

"Well, first of all, he/she must remain fully feminised until we say otherwise! We'll keep him dressed up as our fully feminised, crossdressed, transvestite slut and sex-slave until Monday week!" Susan told her accomplices.

"I like it." Helen responded.

"Can we do it so that the changes will be really noticeable?" Karen queried.

"Like what?" Helen asked.

"How about taking him to a beauty salon... and getting him a full make-over? You know... including things like shaping and plucking his eyebrows... and making them pencil thin! How about making him pierce his ears, and wearing girly earrings? We could have permanent eye-liner tattooed around his eyes... He could be made to wear long false lashes... and maybe, we could get him a 'Brazilian' style bikini-wax... What do you think? Shall we do it? I think it would be great to do these things to him!" Karen suggested.

"It's a bit severe... but, it sounds like a plan to me!" Susan agreed. "It would certainly teach him a lesson!"

There was a short pause, and silence filled the room as Helen considered the proposition, but moments later, she nodded her acquiescence, and added:

"We don't even need to go to the salon... I have a friend who is a beautician... I'm sure that she'd come over and do the necessary!"

"Excellent!" Karen noted.

"Let's go ahead and do it all!" Susan replied.

Still bound and immobile, I heard the door to the room as it opened, allowing my three Mistresses to enter once again. I wondered what they had decided my fate to be... and, I tried desperately to hide my ever growing excitement from them. It was an impossible task. My rampant cock was throbbing through the silky fabric of my panties!

"Look girls... We've excited our girly 'slave!' Her 'boy-clitty' is hard and throbbing!" Karen said, excitedly!

"My goodness! After we'd f***ed her to be our submissive too! I think that she is beginning to enjoy her subservience to us, Ladies! It seems to me that she likes being f***ed into her role as a 'feminised sex-slave' for us!" My wife Helen observed!

"You see... Deep down inside, she really wants to serve her Mistresses... as a submissive slut... f***ed to comply with our every wish!" Susan observed.

"Call your friend, Helen... The visiting beautician that you know. Ask her to come over, tonight... as soon as she can... I think that you should explain to her that it's so that she can feminise your husband. Explain to her that Philip/Pippa needs a complete make-over, and that you will be imposing no limits as to what she can do to complete her job! Tell her that once she has finished, we will all be expecting to see no masculine traits in Philip's physique..." Susan instructed her daughter.

"Yes, let's do it!" Karen agreed.

"Okay then, I will!" Helen agreed!

Helen picked up the phone, and called her friend, Alice... the 'mobile,' visiting beautician that she knew well. She asked her if she could do her a big favour, and if she would be willing to come straight over to her house...

"Can you come over immediately? Please... drop whatever it is that you're doing... and come straight over! You probably won't believe what I'm going to ask you to do for me... but, I promise you that I'm not joking... and that I consider it to be really urgent. You know that I'd never fool around with you. We're much too close for that... but, only you can help me with what has to be done!"

Alice agreed to drop everything, and promised that she would be at Helen's house within the hour!

Thirty-five minutes later, Alice rang the front door bell, and entered the house, intrigued to discover Helen's secret! She was shown through the house, and into the room within which I had been bound and immobilised!

Shock showed on her face!

"I need you to give my husband a full make-over... I expect Philip to have been fully transformed into 'Pippa,' (his feminised 'alter-ego...') including things like the thinning, plucking, and shaping of his eyebrows... making them pencil thin! The piercing of his ears... and his being made to wear girly earrings. Permanent eye-liner should have been tattooed around his eyes... He must have been made to wear long false lashes... and he should have been given a 'Brazilian' style bikini-wax..."

"Is he willing to undergo these alterations?" Alice asked Helen.

"Yes... He feels that he has no alternative!" Helen replied.

"Once these make-over techniques have been applied to him, we intend to continue with his feminisation, until he is indistinguishable from a real woman!" Susan added.

Alice instructed me to strip naked, removing all but my make up. I did so immediately, and without complaining once. A few whispers passed between the four women, before they made me sit in a chair that Alice had brought with her to the house. It looked very like a dentist's chair, with a headrest, arms, and a long leg-rest.

Within moments, my neck had been secured to the headrest, using a leather collar... my arms were secured with leather straps, and my legs were bound apart to the base of the chair, using ankle-cuffs, separated by a leg-spreader bar!

I was naked... except for my make-up, my wig... my long, glossy, scarlet finger and toenails... and my silicon breasts, which were glued to my hairless chest with adhesive. I was bound and immobilised to the beautician's chair, and I felt very vulnerable... surrounded as I was, by my three Mistresses and their 'visiting' beautician!

I saw my wife, Helen, approaching me, and then realised that she was placing a thin strip of material over my eyes, blindfolding me from everything that was to take place. Next, I felt a rubbery, ball-shaped item being placed into my mouth, and I immediately appreciated that a ball-gag had removed my ability to speak... or to scream! My head was immobilised, using a neck/head brace, and I was finally 'prepared' for the next stage of my transformation/feminisation!... Continue»
Posted by stig1963 3 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Fetish, Shemales  |  Views: 2949  |  
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caught cross dressed part 2

"As Pippa is now completely unable to move her head... I think that we should begin with her eyebrows." Alice told the others.

The others each nodded their consent, and Alice began her work on me. My already thinned eyebrows were plucked pencil thin, and were shaped into a high arch over my eyes. Once this had been completed, Alice tattooed over them, making them a permanent feature of my face!

The tattoo gun still in hand, Alice began working to give me my permanent 'eye-liner' ...by blackening the areas around my eyes with a solid line of black ink. Long, thick, 'long-lasting' lashes were stuck over my natural one's, and were lengthened even further, as she covered them with special 'super-lengthening' mascara! The result of all of her work was that my eyes stood out amazingly... immediately drawing other peoples gazes directly to my face.

Alice changed the colour of the ink within the tattoo gun, swapping it for a deep, bl**d red... I felt her starting to work on my lips, reshaping and outlining them, so that they would be perceived as being full and shapely, as if I'd used a lip-liner. Alice changed the colour of the ink once more. This time, she chose a bright, scarlet-like 'Ferrari' red. This was the colour with which she covered my lips, careful to remain within the lip-outline that she'd shaped onto my mouth earlier.

I was now certain that I was in deep trouble! The 'feminising' make-over that I'd just undergone was largely of a 'permanent' type. Unlike the times when I'd fulfilled my crossdressing fantasy in the past, I'd be unable to return to being a man once it was over.

'How am I going to return to work on Monday?' I asked my self.

'What will my friends and f****y say when they see me like this?' I wondered.

'Can it be that Helen and the others intend to keep me 'f***e-femmed' forever more?' I considered, finally!

"Okay Alice. Now, I want you to pierce both of Pippa's ears, her left nostril, her tongue, and her belly-button. She's to wear large hoops in her ears, so pierce each ear with three holes... I think a stud through her nose, and a bar through her tongue and her belly!" Helen said.

"Shall I do her nipples too? We can replace the falsies over the piercings... but, if you decide to remove them at any time, her titties will still be sexy!" Alice queried.

"Great idea! Yes, let's do it!" was the unanimous reply.

I tried to protest, but the gag stopped me from doing so. Susan noticed, and said:

"I think that Pippa's trying to tell us what a good idea this is!"

All of the women laughed at this.

The piercings didn't take long, and I was soon decorated through each of my new holes. I'd only left a little pubic hair on my body when I'd depilated my body, but I was still a little surprised when Alice waxed me there, leaving only a thin strip above my cock! Next, she removed my wig, and shaved my head... totally bald, before replacing it on my head, and gluing it in place with some strong adhesive.

"She's ready now ladies. Shall we get her dressed again?" Alice prompted the others.

"Yes, let's!" Helen replied.

"You should make her wear your leather studded collar, Helen." Susan told her daughter.

"Oh yes! Good idea." Helen agreed.

I was released, and ordered back into my feminine attire. My gag wasn't removed, and once I was dressed, the collar was placed around my neck.

"Would you like to stay for Pippa's 'initiation' Alice? We would love for you to join us, in becoming one of Pippa's Mistresses!" Susan enquired.

"Yes, I'd love to. It would be an honour and a privilege." Alice responded.

"In that case, Alice... would you and Karen be so kind as to restrain our 'novice' slut? I'd like her tied down... face down, and bent over this large, leather armchair. Tie each of her arms to one of the wooden legs at the front of the chair... with her waist bent over its back, and then separate her legs, using the ankle spreader bar. Set the bar to its widest setting, and secure each of her ankles tightly, using the leather ankle-cuffs at each end." Susan instructed.

"Yes... and then would you use this to lubricate her arsehole? I have a little surprise in store for our new 'toy' girly. Mother and I will only be gone for a few minutes." Helen added.

Mother and daughter left the room, and I heard them climb the stairs, as they went into our bedroom... in search of God knows what! Karen and Alice followed their instructions, and I was soon bent in position, bound and helpless over the leather chair.

I felt both fear and excitement course through my body, as Karen drew my panties to one side at the rear, and began to lubricate my arse ring with large dollops of KY jelly. I jumped, as much as was possible... bound as I was, as I felt her pushing the lubricant up into my arse with her finger. At first there was only one, but I soon felt my anus being stretched, as two... and then three fingers penetrated my rear!

I couldn't believe it, as I felt my cock hardening in response to this stimulation... I felt both elated, and yet shamed and humiliated, at my inability to stop my cock from becoming hard... throbbing wildly, as I grew a rampant hard-on! I knew that this obvious response would only further incite my women captors... but I was completely incapable of controlling my growing exhilaration! Apprehension and horror flowed through me, as I realised that my prick had enlarged to the point where it was now touching Karen's fingers, as she finger fucked my rear end! I could feel it rubbing against them, through the fabric of my Cache-Sex!

At this very moment, I heard the door opening, and Helen and Susan entered the room. Karen blurted out:

"Just in time girls... look at this! Pippa's got an engorged clitty! The dirty little slut is enjoying being fucked by my hand! She's even trying to rub her clit against my fingers!"

"Excellent," Helen gasped, "because this is what I've brought down to surprise her with!" I was unable to see what she'd brought with her, but I heard Alice and Karen gasp... and then giggle at what they saw.

"Who wants to go first girls?" Susan asked, "How about you, Karen? Didn't your 'boss' try to fuck you at the Christmas party? I think it would be ironic if you were his... sorry, HER first, don't you?"

"Oh, yes please... may I? Can we get it all on video?" Karen replied.

"Good idea." Susan said, immediately retrieving the digital video camera from a draw... and placing it to one side, on a tripod... and switching it to record.

"Shall I show Pippa what's in store for her?" Helen asked.

"Why not?" Karen agreed.

Helen walked around in front of me, and showed me the item she'd brought down from our bedroom. My eyes bulged, as I saw the strap-on dildo that was in her hands. A 9" Latex cock, attached to a harness!

"Strip off then Karen..." Helen urged, "And then put this on!"

Karen came round in front of me, and began a sexy striptease, further stirring my rampant cock, and causing me to wriggle in my bonds!

"He wants to be a girl... so... let's show him everything that a girl must do! I seem to recall that these were my words when we caught you." Susan added.

"Yes," Alice piped up, "And let's face it... men always expect their women to service their cocks!"

"It'll be my pleasure to show you how we do it, Pippa." Karen finished.

Naked now, Karen slipped into the strap-on dildo, as Susan tightened it around her waist and hips, buckling it shut onto her groin. My eyes were transfixed, as I watched her Latex penis sticking out before her, as rampant as could be. It was as raging a hard-on as I had ever seen!

Panic swept through me, as Karen returned to my rear. Helen looked over to Alice, and said:

"I have another of those, right there..." She pointed to someplace behind my back. "Would you like to be the next to take part in her training? I was thinking that Pippa's first lesson could be 'The Spit-Roast...' Are you up for that?"

"I'd love it!" Alice replied, obviously excited at the prospect.

"Strip off too then Alice..." Helen urged, "And then put this one on for us!"

Alice too came around to face me, teasing me further as she removed her clothing, item by item... as provocatively as she could. I felt my pleasure rising, as the anticipation of what was to happen to me rose ever more!

Once more, I stared, as Alice slipped into the strap-on dildo... and as Susan tightened it around her waist and hips, buckling it shut onto her groin.

Susan approached each of the women. She handed each one a pair of high-heels, requesting that they don them, and explaining that naked women always looked far sexier in heels. She followed this by whispering to each one, and confirming with each of them what she had planned for them to do.

"Make sure that you get all of this on video, Helen. The girls are going to wear these Ballroom masks, so that they cannot be recognised... but, try to get Pippa's face in shot as often as you can, okay?" Susan said.

Alice and Karen complied at once... donning their masks, and thus hiding their identities from the camera. The ball-gag was removed from my mouth, but was immediately replaced by Alice's Latex cock. I felt my panties being moved to one side at the rear, and Karen gradually began to enter me, pushing her strap-on, gently into my arse. Slowly, I felt her filling my rear... pushing in the cock-head first of all, and then little by little, moving the shaft in and out of me!

I felt the skirt of my mini-dress being pushed up, over my hips, thus exposing my bum-cheeks to view. Karen withdrew the dildo from my backside. I suddenly felt something slapping my cheeks! I tried to yelp, but Alice was still fucking my mouth with her fake dick, and I only managed a muffled:

"Mmmmmmphhhhh!"

"'Pippa must be punished for lying...' I think these were the words I said to my daughter, weren't they Pippa? I also seem to recall saying to Karen: 'I hope that you will be willing to help my daughter and me to teach her perverted husband... Your 'kinky' boss... a lesson that he'll never forget!' Do you remember that Pippa? Well... you are about to receive a lengthy bout of 'corporal punishment' for lying to Helen! A punishment that I believe to be fitting to your 'crime.' A punishment that you are in the perfect position to receive, and so... A punishment that we will administer right now! Alice, until it's your turn, you will continue to make Pippa give you 'head.' This will ensure that she cannot scream, or become too noisy! Once it becomes your turn... Karen will swap places with you, so that Pippa's cooperation is assured."

"Pippa's punishment will consist of her arse being spanked by each one of us." Helen took over the instructions, which mother and daughter had obviously discussed in length whilst they'd been alone upstairs. "I've decided on the order that I want us to use. I will go first, spanking him with my hands... Karen will be second, and will use a leather belt. She will then swap places with Alice, filling Pippa's mouth with her strap-on. She will be third in-line, and I thought that she should spank him with the back of her hairbrush... a nice touch, as she's a beautician! My mother Susan will take last place, and she will use her favourite implement... one that I felt many times in my youth... One that she will fetch in a moment from the tree in my back garden... A bunch of young, bendy birch twigs!"

"How many strokes can we give him... sorry, 'her...' each?" Alice asked.

"Karen, I'll allow you to choose. A minimum of six. A maximum of twenty-four... EACH!" Helen presented my P.A. with the choice.

"A simple choice then Helen. Twenty-four strokes each! Ninety-six in total! Pippa deserves every one of them, I think!" Karen chose.

"Let's get changed first, mum." Susan and Helen left the room. Karen pushed her Latex dick back inside me, and began to pump it in and out of my arse-pussy... much harder than she had before!

About ten minutes later, the door opened, and I heard them return. They strode around to face me, and I was shocked to see them both dressed in leather 'Catwoman' outfits... their faces masked... their bodies covered in skin-tight leather, and with each of them wearing thigh high boots that must have sported at least 8" heels!

Once again, I felt Karen slide out of me. This time though, Helen took up her position behind me. Her hand began to administer my spanking, each stroke falling slowly, and each slightly harder than before! By the twelfth stroke, my arse cheeks were aflame! Still, I was unable to scream! The next twelve fell, covering both my cheeks... and the insides of my thighs!

I noticed that Susan had taken her place by the video... and realised that I was now the star of the show. This was evidence with which they could surely ruin me... or with which they could blackmail me into doing whatever they wanted... forever more!

The whipping came next, as Karen used her belt to administer her strokes upon my bare arse! This time, my bum was hot and red by the sixth stroke... the backs of my legs by the twelfth, and my inner thighs by the eighteenth! The last six were administered to my lower back, and by the end of it, I was sobbing... as tears ran down my face!

Karen swapped places with Alice, and began face fucking me with her dildo. She pushed much further into my mouth, forcing me to 'deep-throat' her latex dick!

Alice obviously relished the idea of spanking a submissive, crossdressed 'sex-slave' with the brush that she regularly used on her clients at work.

"I'll always think of this moment, when I use this brush to style my ladies' hair."

Her strokes were by far the hardest that I'd been given until then. She hit me on my cheeks and on my inner thighs, applying each stroke firmly and rapidly... The entire spanking taking less than a minute!

I hadn't realised that Susan had left the room, until I heard the door opening upon her return! When it did, I realised that I really was about to receive a 'birching' with the twigs that she'd brought in from outside.

Alice came into view, and began fucking Karen with her strap-on! Much to my horror and my disbelief, I felt my cock begin to harden once again! This didn't go unnoticed, and I heard Helen point it out to her mother:

"You'd better punish this slut properly mum, because she's getting all excited again!"

"Don't you worry darling," Susan replied... "I'm gonna take my time with this one! Do you think that this deserves 'double' strokes, ladies?" she asked.

"Ooohhh, yes!" Helen replied, as the others nodded their consent.

'Forty-eight strokes...' I thought, 'I don't know if I can take this!'

Slowly, and with much precision, Susan began my birching! On her twelfth stroke, she moved away, and whispered something to my wife! Helen nodded, and Susan returned... only to rip my knickers off, leaving my throbbing 'clit' hanging down beneath my body! I'd expected her to continue birching me, but before she did, I felt her brushing something the length of my cock... and across my balls. She pulled it away from my body, and showed me what she was using! I tried to scream, but Karen was still gagging me with her fake penis...

"AAAAArrrghhhh... MMMMmmppphhhhh!" I screamed into my gag!

She began to brush my sex organ again... but, this time I knew what she was doing it with! A large bunch of stinging nettles were in her gloved hand, and my 'clit' and balls began to burn furiously!

To my great surprise, the effect this had on me was to increase the stimulation that I was feeling! I began to get even harder than before!

"Thrash her some more... the dirty slag's enjoying it!" Helen called out.

Susan returned to my birching, and bit by bit, I received my final thirty-six strokes!

My punishment over, I was released from my bondage, and made to stand in the corner of the room, with my hands on my head! The four women gathered together once more, whispering animatedly amongst themselves. They pointed in my direction a few times, as they decided how to proceed from this point onwards.

"Pippa... Strip off your dress. We are going to make you wear a different outfit... You look too much like a 'Dominatrice' in leather, so we have decided to dress you in an outfit that is more befitting your submissive status!" Susan demanded.

Complying with my orders, I stripped to my underwear, and waited for my new clothing to be given to me. Helen handed me a pack of folded clothing. I looked at the items that she had handed me, and I blushed... seeing that it was a sexy 'French-maid's' outfit... one that I had purchased a few months before, as a gift for Helen... from the Anne Summers 'sex' catalogue! It consisted of a very short, black satin dress, with a white apron, which covered the skirt of the dress at the front, and had a small bib across the bust area... and, which had a lacy, frilly maid's hat for me to wear! The skirt barely covered my groin... showing the lacy tops of my hold-up stockings, and about an inch and a half of skin, at the top of my thighs!

Susan handed me a pair of thong panties, which barely held my manhood between my legs, and told me to put them on. Alice f***ed my arms behind me, and cuffed them together, with handcuffs that had pink feathers around the wrists!

"Karen, why don't you attach this leash to Pippa's collar, so that you can lead her around? We wouldn't want her trying to escape when we take her out in public now, would we?" Helen said.

"There is a choice of leather, or PVC clothing in Helen's bedroom, girls. I think that you should choose some, and get dressed. We'll be going out soon, and you can't leave the house wearing only heels and a strap-on!" Susan told Alice and Karen.

Grinning, they both went upstairs to dress.

"Now for your surprise punishment." Susan said, "We're going out for a drink at the local pub." I couldn't believe my ears, they had to be joking, and they were winding me up and trying to scare me. They were succeeding too. "You will obey our instructions to the letter, slut. Don't for a moment think that we might hesitate to punish you, just because we're in a public place. We would and we will, should you falter in your obeisance. Should you outright refuse us anything, we may be f***ed to let slip a little something regarding your true gender!" The trap was complete; nothing could make me disobey them now.

"Before we go, I think we need a little keepsake of how pretty you look." Said Mistress Helen as she pulled out her camera and snapped off a couple of pictures of my female persona.

"Don't forget the video camera, Alice." Slipped in Mistress Karen as she pulled open the front door.

"Just one last thing that you should know, Pippa." Said Mistress Alice glibly. "The pub that we're going to is a Biker's Bar. I don't think that they'd be too impressed if they found out that you have a dick hidden between your legs. Let's go girls." She smirked at my patently obvious horror, as I was lead into the street.

Blushing visibly through my make-up, I considered running away and ending this horror but remembering the photos soon put paid to that idea. I couldn't believe that this was actually happening to me. My mind was racing with fright as I though of the serious assault that would surely come my way, if and when I was discovered! I shuddered involuntarily at the scene in my mind!

"There it is." Signalled Mistress Alice, as she pointed to the next corner on the street. "It looks like it is pretty busy too, if you stop to consider the amount of bikes that are in the car park."

The place was loud and rough looking with a large car parks both front and back. The rear car parks lead into a garden area that was dark and seemed woody, with trees surrounding the drinking area. My mind raced as my wife turned and said to us all: ... Continue»
Posted by stig1963 3 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Fetish, Shemales  |  Views: 1783  |  
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  |  7

caught cross dressed part 3

The next few days felt like a lifetime for me. I couldn't sl**p at night - every time I closed my eyes, all I could see were replays of myself, dressed like a whore, being strapped to a padded sawhorse while it fucked me from both sides. Everything I ate and drank had a horrid aftertaste of that bastard's cum - it was as if that taste was permanently embedded in my ataste buds now. The back of my throat was sore so it hurt to speak and my pussy... no, my ass, as I had reverted back to calling it... was sore from the repeated violations it suffered.

I went through a list of possible ideas to stop this madness from progressing. Sadly, there was nothing I could do in terms of revenge. If I went to the police and they arrested him, then come 11 o'clock that night the scheduled email would be sent out to my entire contact list. He had sent me a copy of the email the night I returned home. He had made so many edits to it that it seemed like a well done porno production. He threw in some background music and even injected some sound effects that made it sound as if I were moaning at various times, begging for more cock in my holes and cum in my belly. To my horror, it was all extremely believable, especially since the second portion of the video was me seemingly voluntarily stuffing my holes with dildos and drinking glasses full of cum. Anyone who saw the video would view me as a willing participant to this twisted game he was playing.

Since I couldn't do anything that would leave him incapacitated or away from his home for an extended period of time, I was left with bargaining with him. I emptied out my bank account the day after my ordeal when I had made my decision., which wasn't as much as one would hope in this situation and only amounted to roughly over $4,000. Surely that would be enough to buy him off though, I convinced myself. I did not attempt to contact him, holding onto a foolish hope that he would possibly just forget about me. Three days passed when, finally, I received a message from him with a photo attachment that Saturday morning. The email read:

"Candi,

It has been a few days now, so I'm sure the reality of your situation has set in for you. By this time you should have accepted that you are now my property to do with as I please. I have given you these days to not only come to this realization, but also to recover from your first training session. I know it has been hard for you to go this long without the taste of cum or without a hard cock pumping in and out of that pussy of yours. You are such a slut, as evidenced in the attached photo.

But the time has come for your second training session, so your wait is finally over. You will be sure that your body is entirely smooth before coming to my house. You will step in the front door, strip, and then wait on all fours for your inspection. If you do not pass inspection, you will be locked out of the house fully nude and the email will be sent immediately to all of your contacts. You will have to find your own way home - and remember, the neighborhoods you'll have to navigate are not known for their hospitality.

You may want to shave twice, Candi. See you at 6pm, sharp.

Master"

Opening the picture attachment at the bottom of the note, my face burned in embarrassment as I saw the picture pop up on my screen. It was a closeup of my face after I had received my facial at the end of the training session involving the fucking machines. Cum was dripping down my face, my mascara was running and mixing in with it as it dripped down over my painted lips. I had to drive all the way home with that dried cum stuck to my face that night, and I spent easily over an hour in the shower once I returned home, using up all of my hot water in the process, but I didn't care. I just couldn't escape the feeling that I was missing a spot and would have a coworker notice it the next day at the office. I hated this man. I had to break free of his control. $4,000 had to be enough - what did he have to lose?

First I had to make sure I didn't get thrown out of his house before I even had the opportunity to negotiate with him. I went to the store and bought a women's razor, some body shaving cream and a women's scented lotion, my heart pounding as I checked out with the young and attractive cashier. I did as he said and shaved my entire body, twice. I then spread the lotion over my now smooth body, ending in the same soft and sensitive feeling that I remembered before. The only difference before was that I had no control over my body - this time I was the one doing everything to myself. How humiliating.

My heart was beating through my chest as I drove to the house where my nightmare previously took place. With $4,000 cash in my jeans pocket, I pulled in the driveway and walked to the front door. The door was unlocked, so I walked in and looked around. It was dark, but I noticed the familiar blinking red light of an activated video camera focused in on me. My body burned as I saw it, knowing that he was attempting to gain more control over me with more evidence. Part of me wanted to rip it off the wall, but I knew that was not an option under the circumstances. I slowly removed all of my clothes, leaving my jeans on top so I could easily get to my bargaining chip, then sunk to my hands and knees, waiting.

Almost immediately I heard the door to the basement open and the lights turned on. He walked over to me, but I kept my head down looking at the floor as I figured that's what I should do. He f***efully grabbed my hands and pulled them behind my back, clicking on some steel handcuffs tightly to my wrists. I figured this may be my last chance, so I started the negotiation process, or so I thought.

"Sir, may I please speak?" I timidly asked.

He ignored my request as he roughly felt around my body. Spreading my ass cheeks apart and fingering the outside of my hole, pulling on my cock and balls, pinching my nipples. He combed through my entire body without saying a word. Since he did not decline my request, I decided to take a chance.

"I would like to offer you a deal, Sir. In my jeans pocket, there is $4,000. It is yours. If you just allow me to watch you delete the videos and photos you have of me and let me go, then it is yours. It's all I have."

I heard a quiet chuckle come from the man's mouth.

"Oh Candi, you amuse me so. Don't you understand that you are worth so much more to me than a measly four grand? Hell, by the time I'm done with you, you'll be bringing twice that much a week when I rent that pussy of yours out to parties. No, you keep your money, slut. As I said before, I'm not interested in ruining you, just in using my property as I see fit."

I was speechless. I had spent the last few days convincing myself that he would take that deal. I spent the drive over here imagining him accepting, watching him delete all of his files, then sending me on my way, free from his control. Now he had declined, choosing instead to keep me as his property. I began to sob uncontrollably, which only seemed to anger him.

"Quit crying you little bitch, you should be glad I chose to keep you. I won't be keeping all of the money you earn, just my 90%. I believe I deserve that much since I'll be the one supplying your clothes and makeup, not to mention all the time and energy I'm giving to train you up to be the best cocksucking and fucking whore this town has ever seen. Now you get your shit together before I lose my temper and take it out on that ass of yours. You're lucky I haven't spanked you already for talking in that deep voice that has no place here. Now apologize to me for wasting my time and ask me to get on with your training, slut."

It took everything I had, but I pulled myself together. Mostly it was out of fear for not wanting one of his spankings, remembering how my entire ass felt like it had been held over a fire the last time I experienced one of those. Mustering up my best slutty voice like before, I asked...

"Sir, I am deeply sorry for wasting your valuable time and would love the opportunity to make things right. Please continue with my training as you had previously planned."

Suddenly he broke out into a smile, then quickly attached that familiar collar back on my neck with a leash leading off of it. Understanding that he now had complete control over me, he removed my handcuffs, apparently letting me know that I had passed his inspection. Next he pulled upward on the leash and gave the collar a short, sudden zap, signaling me to stand. I obliged, then followed him down the stairs to the basement/dungeon, trying to keep my mind from getting too far ahead of itself and not thinking about what was ahead of me tonight.

Once downstairs he led me to the center of the room. Looking up I could see shackles hanging from the ceiling, which he promptly placed my wrists in. My arms were still bent a bit, so he walked over to a crank and turned it a few times, pulling the chains tight and straightening out my arms. He came back over to me, wheeling a full length mirror in front of me and once again applied the tan colored paste to my genitals (after again going through the painful process of shoving my testicles up inside me) - when he was finished I again looked down to see what appeared at first glance to be a smoothly shaven, tanned pussy. He even cut a small slit down the middle to give the appearance of fat, swollen pussy lips. How thoughtful of him...

He then brought out a long blond wig that was split out into pigtails over to me. He placed it on my head and, after making his usual adjustments, secured it. After making me shake my head from side to side and then forward and backwards - "as if you were sucking a cock" - as he put it, he seemed satisfied and moved on to the next step in my transformation.

Next again was the makeup, which he expertly applied as previously done. A thick coat of foundation, some glittery pink eye shadow with thick mascara to again make my already long eyelashes stand out even more. Following that was some blush with more girly glitter mixed in with it. Next he applied what felt like three coats of lipstick followed by another two coats of lip gloss - again, with glitter mixed in. He stepped out of the way and I looked at my face. Whereas last time I was made to look like nothing but a whore that you would see on the side of the road, this time I was being made up to look younger. Still slutty, but almost like an 18 or 19 year old, immediately taking years off of my life with his handiwork. I finally understood why when he came back.

First, he again applied a heavy coat of the glue substance to my chest before sticking on the high C/low D implants to me. After holding them for a few minutes he let go and I felt the familiar weight sagging off of my chest. He then went to the box and started pulling out my outfit for the session. First was a white piece of material that was supposed to pass for a shirt, though it looked like little more than a bra that would tie in the middle. Next was an embarrassingly short plaid skirt with a black belt passing through it. When he held it up I could see that the belt buckle said "SLUT" in glittery silver letters as an extra touch. He then pulled out a black satin thong with white bows spread around the waistband, followed by a white garter belt with black bows and black ribboning down by the garter snaps. Next out of the box were some white stockings that had a black bow at the top, inside their frilly lace trim. Lastly were some white platform high heels. The spike seemed to be even higher on these and it looked as though I would almost have to stand on my tiptoes just to fit inside them. Where did he get all of this stuff, I wondered in my head.

Efficiently he placed the clothing on me. While putting on the thong I felt him grind his hard cock against my ass as he slid the string of the thong between my cheeks. He made me moan like a whore as he did it, reaching his hands around to feel my breasts. He finally stopped himself and went back to dressing me, finishing with the high heels that immediately made me feel like I had a cramp in my foot just by slipping them on. Walking would be difficult. He then snapped his fingers as if he had forgotten something and came back with a handful of small objects. Bending down, I again heard the familiar snaps of tiny padlocks being locked into place on my feet, again making my feet prisoners to these horrible contraptions.

My Master then released my arms from the shackles. It took a few minutes for the bl**d to rush back into my arms and hands, but he had no time to wait for that as he roughly pulled on the leash and sent some zaps through to my collar to spur me on. I fell a few times while learning to walk in these heels, but quickly learned that I needed to take smaller steps and walk in more of a straight line. Soon I was keeping pace with him just fine. As he walked me around the room, he made me talk in my slutty voice about how much of a whore I wanted to be, how I wanted nothing more than to have thick cocks shooting loads inside me, thanking him for this invaluable service he was giving me by training me. Inside I was screaming at him, cursing his very existance... but on the outside I had to keep up this persona of being some slutty school girl.

He would frequently stop and make me stand in awkward poses. Usually it involved me bending over and showing off my ass, obviously just more ammo that would be recorded by the multiple cameras in this room. Other times I would push my breasts together and pout my heavily painted lips, or lift up my skirt and make an O shape with my mouth, inviting cocks to penetrate it. Anything that came into his perverted mind, I would have to strike that pose, often times for minutes at a time while he walked circles around me, critiquing my form, adjusting my clothing or my hair or reapplying some of my makeup.

Finally he left me standing in the middle of the room as he went and retrieved a chair with a very high back that would easily go up past my head when seated. The chair had a hole in the bottom of it. He pulled down my thong to my knees, then made me sit down on the chair with my ass... pussy... centered directly over the hole. Once I was centered I watched as he methodically placed cuffs all over my body, securing me in place. My legs were fastened to the legs of the chair in four different locations, my arms cuffed behind me and fastened in place. Another two straps went over my lap, holding me down against the base of the chair snuggly. More straps held my chest against the back of the chair as one final strap went over my forehead and around the back, holding my head in place, unable to even move it side to side.

Into a closet my Master went, outside of my view. I heard something rolling towards me, but never actually saw it. It sounded like he was placing something underneath me. He frequently would poke a few fingers up through the hole and finger my pussy with a cold, greasy fluid - I assumed it was similar to before and he was lubing me up for the events to come. To my surprise I heard him walk away without anything penetrating my pussy, so I thought I was possibly mistaken as to what he had been doing. Back to the closet he went, this time coming back around with my worst nightmare.

Again, in front of me was the machine that abused my mouth the previous visit. Again I saw a full bag of the white sticky fluid attached to the dildo on the end of the machine through the tubing. He placed it in front of me, but in my mind I knew he had forgotten one thing. This time, I was not gagged with my mouth open. This time I would never open my mouth for that damned thing. I shut my mouth tightly. When my Master saw this, he gave that familiar chuckle as he lined up the dildo with my mouth and locked the machine in place on the ground. He pressed a few buttons and the dildo very slowly began to creep towards me, a tiny bit of precum starting to form at the tip.

"Same drill as before, Candi. Now open wide."

I did my best to shake my head and tell him no. The dildo was now inches from my face as I could smell the mixture of rubber and cum getting closer and closer. He came down next to my ear and whispered

"You can keep your mouth shut for a little while, but this machine will not stop pushing forward. Eventually the pain will either become too much or it will just knock your teeth out and make its way in that way. It's your decision, but I would suggest opening up and accepting it. Take the cock in your mouth, Candi, you know you want it."

I again tried to shake my head no, but it was no use, I was stuck. The dildo came in contact with my lips, gently at first, but slowly it started to increase the pressure. My lips were being smashed against my teeth now and the pain was unbearable. My mind wandered and I opened my mouth to scream, allowing the cock entry into my mouth. My lips came down around it as I moaned into it to express my pain. My Master just smiled with one of those "I told you so" smirks as he went back to the machine's panel and pressed more buttons, causing the dildo to now increase in pace. In and out it pumped, never going back far enough to leave my mouth and allow me to close it. I felt the impressions of the rubber veins sliding along my lips. Looking down at the black cock I could see hints of my pink lipstick and bits of glitter now showing while it slid in and out. The tip again began to hit the back of my throat, periodically triggering my gag reflex, but it never let up. Finally it went in to the hilt and gave that awful pause as I knew what was coming. I watched as the liquid flowed through the tubing and heard the machine whirl, then felt the stream of warm cum hit the back of my throat. It caused me to gag on the cock again but I could not move, so all I could do to stop the gagging was swallow the load that was now trapped in my mouth.

My Master came over to me and gave me an approving nod, then knelt beside me. Suddenly I heard a noise from underneath me and began to feel pressure against my pussy. Slowly but surely a cold metal object slid its way inside of me, then paused once fully impaled. To my shock and horror, the object began going through a wide range of activities over the next few minutes. First it would vibrate at such a rate that the entire chair was shaking. Next it felt like it would shift in temperature, from ice cold to red hot, making me squeal and try to squirm in the chair, doing anything to get the object out of me, but obviously to no use. Next it would start to move in small circles, brushing up and pushing out the edges of my pussy, obviously attempting to expand my hole. Finally it would pump in and out of my ass at a rapid pace until it extracted itself altogether. At random increments it would start again, never with the same pattern of activities.

My Master again appeared at my side and whispered words that will haunt me late at night for sure...

"You see Candi, you need to get used to performing these whore acts in different positions. You won't always be laying doggy style for your future clients - sometimes you will be bouncing your pussy up and down on a cock while taking another in your mouth, understand? It's all a part of your training. Now, this bag is a bit larger than the one from last time, so I think you should be all set down here for at least two hours. That machine training your pussy is one of my favorites - it took me a long time to get it just right, but it should do wonders for training your pussy efficiently. By the time it's finished you'll be well on your way to being an expert at having a cock in your ass and all the different experiences you can feel while one is inside of you. And we can't forget to let you enjoy the show."

With all that said and still echoing in my mind, he clicked a button on a remote and again I saw the television display of my misery. There was again a close up shot of the dildo assaulting my mouth, only this time it looked more voluntary as there was no longer a gag forcing my mouth open. It looked as though I opened my mouth and took the cock in on my own. There was a close up shot showing the hole leading to my pussy with a light shining on the hole in the chair to better see the metal dildo hooked into the machine gaining access and exiting my pussy as you watched the rod spin and rotate while I was impaled on the dildo at the end. Then there were multiple shots of the entire scene so you could see me dressed in my full outfit, from my glittery makeup and pigtails, to the white shirt straining against the knot to hold in my breasts, to the glittery "SLUT" belt buckle holding up my tiny plaid skirt. Periodically the camera would zoom in on my crotch, allowing you to see the slit in my pussy. It would then pan back out and you would see my black thong pulled halfway down my legs, over my white stockings and then leading down to my feet uncomfortably resting on the ground inside the padlocked heels.... Continue»
Posted by stig1963 3 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Fetish, Shemales  |  Views: 654  |  
100%
  |  3

cross dressed cocks

I was looking forward to the fun I could have in my own place. I spent some time on the male chat line looking for someone to play with. he to liked to dress but like me was not at all passable . when he showed up at my place he hade on black thigh highs open toe heels and a corset ,he was taller then me and of average build . it was the bulge in his panties i was interested in. I was dressed in pink thigh highs red strappy heels pink panties and a light purple chemise with a pink bra under it.

we sat on the couch watching some porn he took out his semi erect cock and told me he wanted to see me on my knees , i got down on all fours with my ass in the air he stood over me running his hand s over my ass massaging my cheeks making me squirm as he rubbed my asshole through my panties then when i least expected it smack . i could feel the sting across my cheeks where he had slapped me and i moaned . "did you like that you dirty slut?" he asked " mm fuck yes. spank me please'" i said as i wiggled my ass .smack smack smack across my ass harder each time till i couldn't take anymore my ass cheeks burned but it felt so good . he began to rub his cock all over my ass smacking my burning ass with it . he grabbed my hips and began to run his cock along my ass crack through my panties every once in awhile pushing his cock head into my asshole through my now wet panties. his precum was soaking my ass and mine was soaking the front as i ground back against him . "do you want this big cock baby?" do you want me to fuck that tight ass of yours?" he moaned " please I want you to fuck me so bad I need your cock" i moaned in response.

he sat down on the couch his hard cock throbbing as he stroked it . he had to be over 7 inches cut and thick . he told me to crawl over to him and suck his cock. i did and he held it toward me the precum dripping off the head . i took my tongue and swirled it around the head of his cock loving the taste ,i licked up and down the shaft to his big low hanging balls and began to lick and suck on them . i worked my way up his shaft and engulfed this big cock with my mouth sliding as much to the back of my throat , working my mouth up and down on his delicious cock . "you like sucking that cock ?" mmm i moaned with my mouth around his cock . he grabbed my long hair and began to fuck my mouth driving in and out of my throat " take it you cock sucking slut " as he fucked my mouth harder . he leaned forward pulled my panties aside then spit on his fingers . i felt his wet fingers against my asshole as he drove 2 into me working my hole as i continued to suck his cock.

i began to push back on his fingers as he worked them in and out ." you really are a cock hungry little whore , so do you want to get fucked?" he asked i took my mouth off his cock "fuck me please " i begged " i want your big cock in me so bad" " so what is your favourite way to get fucked ?" he asked " on my back with my legs spread wide" i moaned as he continued working his fingers in me. he told me to lay down and spread my legs . i took off my panties and lay back as i opened my legs i reached down and pulled my cheeks apart giving him a better view. he took his cock and started rubbing the head against my asshole his precum wetting it more "is this what you want you dirty fucking slut? you want me to make you my bitch?" he didn't need to ask twice " fuck me please i want your fucking cock pounding my ass please " i begged . with that he plunged his cock deep into me and began pounding my asshole hard ,his balls slapping against me , his hip hitting my cheeks with every thrust . my legs were on his shoulders there was something sexy about looking up and seeing my red painted toes and stalking covered legs against him . i reached down and i could feel his stalking under my hands . my cock throbbed and leaked precum with every thrust .i had never been fucked like this , his big cock stretching me hitting my prostate with every thrust . "is this what you like you fucking slut?" " a big cock ?" he moaned " yes give it to me fuck me like a dirty whore " then he asked "are you my bitch?" "yes " i moaned . he drove his cock into me harder pushing my legs back to my chest " i am goanna breed your ass like a fucking faggot whore " he drove his cock into me hard and something happened that i had never experienced as he fucked me i started to grind i felt like i was going to cum . my cock exploded and my cum shot out across the silk camisole i had on as i yelled "i am fucking cumming" " you are a dirty fucking whore cumming from just getting fucked up you faggot asshole" you want my cum up that dirty shit hole cock slut? are you ready for it" " yes fill me with your cum i want to feel you exploded in my dirty faggot asshole " i moaned" give it to me you fucking bastard fill my ass do it now" with that he picked up pace then drove his cock in and held it as spurt after spurt of his hot cum filled my asshole.

he pulled out and sat back breathless i got up and wrapped my mouth around his cock tasting his cum and my ass . i pushed my fingers in my asshole and covered them in his cum the wiped it on his cock and licked it off . he hadn't gone soft and told me to keep sucking and make him cum again. " fuck you are a good little cock sucking slut " he moaned as my mouth worked up and down his dick in unison with my hand till i felt the familiar throb and he exploded in my mouth. i swallowed every drop and wouldn't let his cock out of my mouth till he was limp . we sat for a bit recovering . it was quite late and he insisted that i walk him to his car so i slid my panties back on and was going to grab some cloths but he told me like a good whore i would walk him to the car dressed as i was. i was terrified yet it was a rush at the same time ... Continue»
Posted by amitokinki 1 year ago  |  Categories: Anal, Gay Male, Shemales  |  Views: 1554  |  
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Secret's of Slavery

Well now that the whole ordeal is over, I can finally tell my story. It’s been 6 long years and countless horny men and women since it all started. I have been a secret sex slave, secret to my husband, friends, and f****y all because of one horny encounter that turned into years of sex slavery.
Let me back up to when it all started. I (Cindy) was 27 married to my wonderful husband (Dave) and living in an upper class neighborhood outside of Chicago. My husband and I had a few swinging encounters up to this point, but the rule was it was always mutually alright with both of us and we were always together. Those were the rules we both set and always followed, Period. Well our neighbors , John and Penny, were a very nice and good looking couple of about the same age whom we sat around and had numerous dinners and drinks with just like the relationship most people have with their neighbors. I (we) never knew until this whole thing happened that they had a very, very dark side to both of them. I mean John was always peeking over the fence when I was in the back yard working on the flowers, swimming, or laying out topless. He was just the typical guy trying to catch a peek at my 36C tits or firm round ass in my bikini bottoms. I knew he was peeking, but acted like I didn’t know. Dave was aware of it too, but didn’t mind, he just laughed it off. Well one day during the summer while Dave was on a trip out of town for work, the furniture store called and said our new furniture was in. They wanted to know if they could deliver it tomorrow. I said I would be home and tomorrow would be fine. The next day I was out front working in the yard when John walked up and was making small talk. He was eye fucking me in my stretch tank top and cutoff shorts and I explained that I was happy our new furniture was getting delivered. About that time the truck pulled up and these two college age guys get out of the truck with no shirts on dripping with wet beads of sweat. I cut my conversation off with John and told him I need to show these guys where to put the furniture. I take them in the house and show them where to put the stuff all the while they were checking me out. I was checking them out as well, but then they start moving the stuff in and hauling the old stuff out. I fixed them some sandwiches and gave them some beers to quench their thirst while they worked. When they were done, they came in to give me the paperwork on the furniture and inspect everything so I could sign off on it. We had a few more beers together and then the flirting started. Harmless at first, but then the booze mixed with sweaty hard bodies kind of got the best of me. Well I ended up sucking and fucking the shit out of both of them multiple times that afternoon. After they left I laid on the living room floor, sticky from head to toe with cum and after fuck juices. My pussy was sore and wet. I felt horrible for what had just happened. I pondered what I was going to tell David when he got home from his business trip. I knew he’d be furious, and this could severely damage our trust and marriage. I went up stairs, showered, got dressed and went out by the pool to have a stiff drink and think about what I was going to do. Shortly after, I heard a knock on the back gate. It was John and Penny. I told them that I really didn’t want any company at the time but they said it was imperative that they talk to me. We sat down and John pulled out a camcorder. He said that he and Penny watched and filmed the entire sex session with the two movers. I begged them to destroy it, but they said if I wanted to keep them quiet from Dave, I would have to do as they said. I ask what they meant. John explained that he regularly entertained high value clients, and that these clients liked to live out their sexual fantasies that their wives wouldn’t fulfill when they got d***k at these high end parties. John told me I would be he and Penny’s sex slave, to use as they wished, with whomever they commanded me to, when my husband was not around. At first I told them NO, but they reminded me of my acts earlier in the day. I didn’t know what to do except agree, and hope that none of this would ever take place. I just figured it was all bullshit talk, and nothing would ever materialize of it. I just wanted to keep my marriage intact and trouble free.

Well two months went by, never got a call. Had several get togethers with the neighbors, and nothing ever happened. Then Dave went on a three day business trip. My cell phone rang no sooner had Dave left the house. It was John, he told me to put on something sexy and get my pretty ass to their house right away. I argued, but he brought up the sex tape. I slipped into a sexy bra and panties, pulled on a short leather skirt and one of Dave’s button up dress shirts. As soon as I walked in their back door, John tore the shirt off, wadded it up and stuck it in my mouth. Next the skirt was yanked down and I was asked to step out of it. Penny put a collar on me with a leash and I was led down stairs to the basement. It was a dungeon! A very nice looking dungeon, filled with all types of sex furniture. They tied me to a long padded bench. I was actually really scared, but did as I was told. They played the video of me with the movers on a huge flat screen tv so I could remember my wrong doings. I was tied so tight I couldn’t move. My wrists, waist, and ankles were secured. Then my thighs were spread and tied to my waist restraints. John showed me this really big and scary knife. I was fucking scared as hell, and he slipped it blade side up between my tits and cut my bra loose of my tits. Next he lightly slid the tip down my firm stomach to my hips and cut my panties on each side. With my thighs tied my legs were spread wide open exposing my shaved pussy. I must admit, that even though scared the knife thing excited me. I felt my nipples tighten and my cunt began to get really damp. Penny stripped off her clothes to reveal a magnificent body. I never imagined she had a body like that until I saw her standing over me completely naked. She walked around me running her hands over me and then knelt between my legs. She stuffed her face in my pussy and began eating me out with a frenzy while finger fucking me with her long slender fingers. I had never been with a woman before but I came almost instantly with her touch and tongue. John told me this was my break in period to prepare me for the abuse I would receive at his client parties. Penny pulled away from me and then opened a drawer below me under the bench. Out of it she pulled a drill with a giant dildo attached to it. She lubed it and rather quickly jammed it into my wet love hole. I felt my pussy stretch hard as a slight squeak came out from around my shirt stuffed lips. She slid it back and forth a few times before hitting the trigger on the drill. It spun inside me slow at first then full speed as she would pull and push it in and out of me. I moaned hard into the shirt in my mouth then tensed and came hard onto the spinning dildo in my stretched pussy. This repeated several times since she would never stop to give me a break. I felt light headed and passed out. I awoke minutes later to my body still twitching from the orgasms and Penny fucking me with a strap on. John flogged my stomach and tits lightly with a leather riding crop, then pulled the shirt from my mouth and turned my head toward him so he could stick his cock in my mouth. I sucked him hard and deep. His cock was really fat, but not all that long. I could suck him to his base with my mouth stretched to its limit. Finally Penny pulled the strap on from my pussy and John stepped between my legs. I begged him not to fuck me, and he slapped me and told Penny to sit on my face to shut his whore up. Her pussy was wet and smelled magnificent. As I licked her John stuffed me with his hard fat cock. It felt so good inside me I just wanted more. I felt like a whore inside thinking of doing this behind Dave’s back, but loving the attention and being fucked by my neighbors fat dick. Penny came on my face and as I lapped her juices John came hard in my pussy. When he pulled out I could feel the hot cum running down and over my asshole. They untied me stood me up on shaky legs and gave me a robe to put on. They then walked me to the door threw me out and told me to be ready for the next time they called. John held up that damn camcorder and said our whole session was filmed on this hand camera and other video cameras placed around his basement. I walked home, lay on my bed and reflected on what just happened. Cum was still running from my abused pussy while I thought about what a cum slut I had become because of one stupid hot moment two months ago. On the other side of the coin though, it felt good to be a submissive slave whore.

This type of thing continued many times for years. Usually I was blindfolded so that I wouldn’t know the identity of the high end clients that I was willingly letting **** me. It was always a couple of guys plus John and Penny. Penny would at times let them fuck her as well because I could hear her moans and screams even with my blindfold or mask on. It was usually in their basement, but sometimes at real nice hotels. The sessions were always filmed, John had dozens of movies of me fucking multiple guys and some girls of all races and creeds. I was always having them dominate me and cum inside me, or on me. They fucked me in all holes, but most of them liked to fuck my ass since usually their prissy wives wouldn’t let them do their own backdoor. I felt really good while it was happening, but dirty and used when I had to go back home to my husband, who was completely unaware of my secret life as a dirty whore slut wife.

Then two weeks ago John called me to come over. He and Penny told me that he was being transferred to Houston for work in a month and that he had one more session for me and they would release me from my slavery. I was so happy that I could put this behind me, but at the same time wondered if I could quit this life of submission that turned me on so much now. He explained that he was working a huge deal with some African investors and he needed to make sure the deal got signed. He told me the date, and I said that Dave would be home then, I was scared, and I’d never had to do these things without my husband being out of town. John said not to worry, that Penny and I could schedule a girl’s night out since we were moving and that we would be spending the night down town until the next day. I explained the plan to Dave and he was fine with it. He told me to have fun and enjoy myself, but told me with a smile that I better not fuck anyone while we were out. Well the night came and Penny picked me up, and we were both dressed to the nines. We made it look like we were ready for a night of clubbing. We left and drove to a parking garage down town. John was waiting for us, so we parked got in his car, and he drove us back to their house. We ducked down until we were in the garage so Dave wouldn’t be able to see us if he happened to be looking out the window. I was taken to the basement, no one was there yet. John and Penny placed my usual collar and lead around my neck. They then unzipped my dress, dropped it to the floor along with my panties and bra. Penny said that she would keep it safe so I could take it home with me tomorrow. John placed the black leather mask over my face, only my mouth and bottom of my nose were visible. There we no eye holes in the mask so I was completely blind until this was over. Penny led me to the bathroom so that I could pee. Then she inserted an enema kit and f***ed me to empty my bowels. I washed up, she sprayed me with some sort of perfume and took me back to the dungeon and sat me in a chair. I heard John approach and he began to tell me what I was expected to do. He said that this would be the longest session I had ever had. I would be fucked all night long and in every hole. There would be many men, mostly African business men that would be experiencing a asian woman for the first time. He explained that the perfume I was sprayed with contained pheromones which as we all know trigger the male senses to be extremely excited. John also assured me that he would be passing out Viagra to any of the men that needed it to keep the activities going. I was really shaken, this was like throwing fresh meat to a pack of lions! I told him I did not want to do this, that I was scared and worried! This slave thing had never gone this far before! John grabbed my face and told me to shut the fuck up. He said this is your last night of sex slavery and if I wanted it to end without Dave finding out I had better do what I was told. I told my master YES and then I heard the doorbell ring. It sounded like a herd of cattle walking upstairs. Penny sat with me and told me to do as I was told and it would all be over by morning. I could hear concern in her voice, which troubled me. I could hear them coming down into the dungeon. John announced, here is your sex slave, she will be bound and yours for the night! Penny stood me up and sprayed the perfume all over me once again. I felt hands touching me, fingers rubbing the slits of my pussy and asshole, my tits were being squeezed, and my nipples pinched. I could feel the presence of many men all around me. My nipples got hard at their touch and my pussy welled up with juices. The men spoke with very broken English with African accents. As the minutes ticked by the men were getting more aggressive with me. Squeezing me, and jamming many fingers in my cunt and asshole. I began to tremble slightly approaching my first orgasm, when they stopped. One of the men yelled out, “bind her”. I was led over to an area, and was told to stand up straight and walk slowly forward. I felt a wide padded bar across my hips. I felt my ankles being restrained with leather cuffs and a spreader bar being placed between my ankles. I was then bent over at the waist and my neck and wrists were resting in some sort of wooden semi circular grooves. Then another piece of wood was placed over the top of my neck and wrists and locked in place. Fuck, I was in a stockade! I couldn’t move, then I felt a belt being tightened around my hips and buckled in the back, keeping my hips pinned to the pad. My knees were only slightly bent and my chest lay on a thin padded bar between my hanging tits. I was breathing hard, although I could hear the broken voices around me all I could really comprehend was my racing heart pounding so loudly it sounded like it was between my ears. Then I snapped back to reality when I felt the tip of a hard cock between my wet pussy lips. He pushed steady and my pussy began to stretch wider and wider. His cock was enormous! I was at his mercy, I couldn’t pull away or even move. Deeper it went, pushing my love tunnel wider and deeper. Finally I felt his pelvis against my ass, he was in all the way. He made only a few slow strokes and I flexed and moaned deeply as I came on his gigantic love tool. He left it still in me until my convulsions slowed then just started to plow my cunt with all of his power. It hurt so fucking good inside me, then I felt him stop deep inside me and his cock began to jump in my tightly stretched pussy. Warm loads of cum filled me for a few seconds as he moaned out in pleasure. As he pulled out of me his cum ran down the inside of my thighs. Another stepped up and followed suit banging my cum filled canal. I felt a cock at my lips and opened wide to let him in my mouth. I sucked on him while his friend was fucking my pussy. Soon he shot his load into my mouth and I gagged it was so much. I swallowed as much as I could, but the rest spilled out of my lips onto the floor. I felt something at my backdoor and realized they had lubed up a butt plug and were inserting it into my ass, obviously to stretch it out for use later. I was glad John didn’t just let them tear my ass apart with their big hard sticks. The more they took turns on me the more aggressive they became. Fucking my pussy and mouth with fury they began writing on my ass and back. Some of the words I could make out as they spelled them like, “whore”, and “slut” but others I couldn’t tell. It felt like a cold crayon on me as they wrote, I was guessing it was lipstick. The guy fucking my mouth paused with half his dick down my throat and wrote slut across the front of my leather mask, then continued until he sprayed cum all over my face. After quite some time they remove the plug from my ass and the first to fuck my ass slid his steel shaft up my rectum. Fuck it felt good as he nailed by two hole. He came in my ass in seconds and another stepped up to torture my sphincter. I had come so many times I lost count. My body was exhausted and battered more than even the hardest workout I’d ever had at the gym. I had blacked out several times only to wake up to someone else fucking me in one hole or the other. After hours of being fucked I got a break. I was un-shackled and able to sit down in a chair. I was sweaty, sticky and physically exhausted. The men were relaxing and I could hear my own voice from the flat screen. They were watching my other videos! I was able to rest about an hour and use the bathroom. Then one of the men grabbed my hair and walked me over to the wide padded bench. He laid down on the bench and pulled me on top of him with my back on his chest, tits pointing at the ceiling. He slid his cock in my ass and began fucking me anally reverse cowgirl style. Then I felt someone else climb between my thighs. He jammed his cock in my pussy and double penetrated me. It hurt for an instant, but the feeling of being so fucking filled inside put me over the edge and I screamed out again in orgasm. Another filled my mouth and I sucked on him now having all of my holes filled at once was amazing. The guy in my mouth shot one stream down my throat then pulled out and creamed all over my tits. As he did this both guys came in my ass and pussy simultaneously. I felt them erupt inside me and as I came I blacked out again. I awoke to a cool wash cloth being rubbed on my neck and around my mouth. It was Penny, she whispered in my ear that I was doing great and to keep it up the guys were loving it. It all continued on for hours, I was being bred like a whore. Although I was worried that my birth control wouldn’t be enough to keep me from getting pregnant I loved the thought and feeling that these strange foreign men were planting their seeds in my womb. I really don’t remember how it all ended. I woke up in John and Penny’s spare bedroom sore and battered to sunlight shining through the window. Penny was in bed under the sheets with me, the sheets were wet and smelled of sweat and cum. Whenever I moved I felt cum ooze from either my pussy or ass and drip slowly onto the bed. As I got out of bed my body felt like I’d been in a prize fight with the reigning heavy weight champ. Penny helped me to the bathroom and I cleaned myself up in the shower. Even as I stood in the shower cum slowly ran out of my holes. It was like it would never stop. Penny brought me some baggy sweat pants and a loose t shirt. I couldn’t stand to wear anything that would be tight on my body, no bra or panties either. John walked in the bedroom with a cup of coffee and handed it to me as I was getting dressed. He eye fucked me one last time, and told me he and Penny were really going to miss me as their slave. I couldn’t say anything to them. Now that it was all over the shame began to really over whelm me. They told me to come down to the kitchen when I was ready and they would get me home. I thought to myself that it was all over now, and Dave never had to know. Ever!
I stood up grabbed my things and walked downstairs. As I entered the kitchen Dave was sitting at the table, in front of him a box full of high definition memory cards. I knew it was all the movies from the past 6 years. My heart dropped, my slave masters had betrayed me. All I could do was stare at my husband. Dave told me to sit across from him. Tears began to roll down my cheeks. Then Dave told me not to cry. He explained to me that 6 years ago when I was fucking the movers, he was the one who saw and videotaped me. He was infuriated and went to John and Penny’s house. They helped him to devise a plan to make me pay for my infidelity. Dave explained that it wasn’t supposed to last this long, that after the first few times it was supposed to end, but he grew to enjoy seeing me fucked like a whore, and even more than that he enjoyed watching me enjoy the other men. He even admitted he participated most of the time, which is really why the blindfolds and masks were used. The out of town trips were a cover for the slavery sessions. He explained that last night was the end of it. John and Penny were moving and that he wanted to get back to our real marriage. I was relieved, but kind of angry. He let his so called precious wife be gang fucked by strange men for years and left me feeling guilty about it. I figured that I was the one to break the trust in the first place and did deserve punishment, I was also the one that got to enjoy being fucked by hundreds of men. I realized I do have a great husband, and we left John and Penny’s house that day and went home to have one great fuck session with each other. We went the next week to have sex together with John and Penny one last time before they moved, and we take a trip every year for a week to Houston to fuck our old neighbors and watch the videos they made of me during my time of sex slavery.
I don’t miss the slavery, but my thoughts are filled daily with the memories that always make my panties damp.

The End
... Continue»
Posted by 4thethrillofit 2 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Group Sex, Interracial Sex  |  Views: 3393  |  
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A Cross-Dresser's tale

You may think of me as Fiona, and I am a cross-dresser.
A story by Erica inspired me to pen my saga of cross-dressing.

I am also a recovering alcoholic, with a few days over 19 years without a drink as I write this, and I suppose the two tales are intertwined to some extent.

Not that I am a saint by any means, a lot of people with a lot less time have a better sobriety than I. But I learned that alcohol is a poison to me, so I avoid it. I just do irrational things when I add alcohol to my system.

For a while, I blamed my cross-dressing on the booze. But I discovered that feeling the need to slip into Fiona, into my “other mind” wasn’t booze related.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I love being Fiona and now realize that she is a real part of me --- part of my mind, body and soul.

I dress in my girl clothes almost daily, usually early in the morning prior to work. I wear panties or a thong beneath my hated boy-togs during the day when I can. I just feel better when I wear them.

So now, here I sit in my fave sheer mini-skirt, thong and silk chemise putting down my memories and adventures as a cross-dresser. My nipples are erect, jutting through the silk and my clitty is leaking as I write this…

If you are looking for a quick, hot, throbbing porn story for self-stimulation, then this tale will bore you. I apologize for that.

But if you are in front of the keyboard staring at the screen in sexy lingerie, dreaming of cock and wondering how you got here….read on.

Early memories --- Pre-puberty through high school.

Born to a Scots-Irish f****y, I am the eldest of four siblings, three boys and a girl in that order. We have a tight-knit Scottish clan on my maternal side and loose knit clan on the paternal side.

I have three female cousins born within three months of me, so I was always surrounded by girls.
Two cousins (maternal) we used to see quite a lot, and it was common for the three of us to have overnighters. I can remember being jealous of their sheer, frilly nightgowns while I wore those strangling pajamas. We stopped sl**ping together as they hit puberty.
I also remember being jealous of their soft, firm titties as they started to grow. I wanted breasts, but began to repress the thoughts as I drifted into puberty.

But I distinctly recall the terror of my first locker room, of undressing in front of the other hopeful eighth grade football players in the old junior high school.
It took me a long time to get “comfortable” in the locker room, and looking back, wonder if that was one of the reasons I tried to be the first person in and the last to leave.
Somehow, it didn’t seem right, although I couldn’t put my finger on it or talk to anyone about it.

It was the early 1970’s and “gay” still meant being happy, not an alternative lifestyle. I’m pretty sure that I didn’t REALLY know what a homosexual was, though I’m sure that I, like my peers, often called other people fags.


I didn’t start masturbating until I was about 14 --- when a friend told me about it. I soon discovered that using pillows to pleasure myself was far superior to just “rubbing one out” and about that time, I began buying men’s magazines.
I was home alone one day, being sick (of) from school, when I found one of my mother’s discarded slips in the trash as I was doing my chores.
It felt so smooth and soft to my fingers…I slipped it on and marveled at how my nipples came erect and I LOVED the sensation of the silky fabric over my ass and little cock.

I began to plan how to be alone to wear my new slip and pleasure myself in it. I do remember trying on panty hose and a bra once, but the slip was my first “gurl-thing.”
I vaguely remember (probably due to the massive quantities of alcohol to be consumed later…or suppressed.) trying lipstick on one morning, and trying to get into her heels. I sort of recall walking and strutting in front of the mirror, running my hands over my body like a man would….
This continued for about two years, until I had a flash of self-disgust/guilt/religion when I disposed of it, the first of my many purges.
Things were pretty vanilla for a couple of years after that first purge. Football, wrestling, girls, school and working part-time jobs in the winter and working on the f****y farms in the summer filled that slot.

I can vividly remember the depressive bouts I had, not seeming to fit in, not ever seeming to maintain a relationship with a girl for long. I have fought these waves of depression all my life.
I had my first drink on my 15th birthday and soon after that, cousins and uncles were handing me beers as I was “becoming a man.”

It was about this time…timelines get fuzzy because of the booze…that I saw my first she-male in an edition of Club Magazine.
I was mesmerized. She was so hot and I wanted her, to be like her. I kept that mag for a long, long time. I can remember ALWAYS checking Club for more she-male pics, although I was rarely rewarded.
The images are burned on my mind, I can still see her now.

I had my first experience with intercourse the November of that year and the relationship turned out bad. Really bad. I didn’t date for a year. Then I fell in love with my high school sweetheart.
We never had sex, though we came close once or twice in our solid 2 year, and then once in our tortuous third year.
We did get very good at oral sex though.

College haze

I was dating sweetheart when I graduated from high school and went into college at the local juco. I kept dating her throughout that winter. She broke up with me the night of her prom.
I packed my car and headed for a cattle ranch in the West, owned by a relative, to work and heal.

I don’t remember cross-dressing at this time, but I was drinking. I do remember looking over some lingerie in a few shops…

Through this all, I kept masturbating with pillows, often spreading my legs, wondering what it would be like to have a man inside them, pushing his rock hard cock into my pussy.
I knew I wasn’t gay per se…I never did imagine havng sex AS a man with a man.
I still don’t.

But I also knew that I had desires to be satisfied sexually as a woman. I often fantasized that I was a girl, my wet, heavy breasts bobbing in rhythm to the stud’s pounding of my loins, making me cum over and over again. However, I am pretty sure I wasn’t dressing. I remember thinking about it a few time though, when I was really d***k, usually on Tequila Sunrises. Come to think of it, I’ve always had a weakness for “girl” drinks too.

Sweetheart and I began writing, she sending the first letter and before I knew it, I was going back to school at the university she attended. We got into a fight almost immediately.

I began drinking heavily, I had roommates and lots of one-night stands after my HS sweetheart and I broke up.

I was morose and began to skip class and go to the library to read about transgendered people. I read everything I could find on the subject and ordered every book I could from the collegiate inter-loan library.
I began to wonder just what was wrong with me? Even then, I caught myself with serious cases of breast envy.
I saw ther****ts for depression a couple of times, but never mentioned my cross-dressing or yearning. I know a purged a lot of kits….sometimes twice a month. I cheerfully drank my way out of that school and had to return to my parents’ house.

I quit drinking (for a little bit) got a job. My HS sweetheart came home for the summer, and although we didn’t date, we were talking again, just being civil. I don’t think there was anything to it. Then she died in a car wreck. The drinking began once again and one night, during that six-month binge, I began cross-dressing again.

That is about the time when I learned to shop for “holidays”--Halloween, Xmas, Valentines… “girlfriends’” birthdays. I used to drive hundreds of miles to porn shops in other towns to buy lingerie.
I remember a red satin bustier with garters and hose and I was hooked. I hid my “kit” as I called it and lived for the moments alone with my girl. As my parents and s****r were away a lot of weekends visiting relatives or my b*****rs still in college, I found some quality gurl time.
I think it was then that I began to play with my clitty, getting it folded behind my ass as I humped two pillows…my thighs squeezing it to ecstasy.
This let me keep my hands free so I could play with my nipples while I dreamed of being fucked.

I returned to school while working full time, (paying rent to my folks) finished juco, graduated and went to another university in the state. I began to smoke there too.

That university experience was an alcohol-fueled two winters, in which I once again built a lot of kits only to purge them. I had a lot of fun. I recall being really d***k and tempted one night by a handsome young man, but he wanted me as a man and that “turned me off.”

We had a LOT of pillows at one of my apartments during this time and I did the laundry. (sometimes dressed as a maid I fuzzily recall). So I kept experimenting with them until I could tuck my clitty and her labias (ballies) behind my spread legs, as I lowered all my bodyweight down on the focal point at the base of the shaft --- sliding my hips forward and leaning on the pillows in front of me to support my upper frame.
I discovered that I could get the head of the clitty to lie over my virgin pussy.

I came a lot after that discovery and found I could tease my nipples at the simultaneously as I came. I came A LOT.

However, I was d***k and depressed. Soon, I was kicked out of school again, evicted…and I remember waiting for the dawn by the river. I was a sick failure of a man. I heard a train heading west and thought about just following my gurl, outing her in San Francisco. Disappearing forever.

The splash of my last and final kit (so I thought) brought me back. I quit drinking again, for four months.
Started drinking again on Fourth of July when told I could have just one. Had four.
I was dying of alcohol just seven years later.

I was dating a nice girl, loved her but she saw through my drinking and that pretty much ended it on my return to my c***dhood town. Returned to my former job and had a new kit put together in one night by October of that year.
Now that I knew how to get my clitty back there, I was trying to figure out how to get it in the hole. I worked and worked at it unsuccessfully.
I Mmet my wife, fell in love (still am. Got damn lucky.) and you guessed it, no need for kit. Yet another purge.

Marriage d***ken Years

No real need to go into a lot of detail, but after drinking my way out of a good job, I successfully drank my way out of another. Depressed, I somehow brought back my kits. Seem to remember looking for bargains…real hazy.
I do remember that is about the period when I began to collect breast forms, after experimenting with water balloons in my bras and outfits. There were selling silicone ones on tv and soon I found them in department stores. I would buy a set in one town of course, find an excuse to go to the big city and hit several stores to get a collection.
I glued them together with silicone to make boobs, checking my silhouette, until I had a shapely female form. I finally finished two sets, one a smaller set of boobs and a larger set. I still have them. I like the smaller set better.

Quite d***ken one night, with the wife and k**s away for the weekend, I shaved all over for the first time. Also fell asl**p in lingerie for the first time and LOVED it. Pretty sure veggie sex was involved or a candle.
Shame and guilt overrode my mind, along with a ginormous hangover the next morning. But I remember keeping and using that red outfit (complete with garter-straps and thigh high stockings) and getting a black one like it and wearing them for years.
I wore my “boobs” whenever I could with my outfits. I tried to do homemaking chores with the boobs in their cups. I continued to stimulate my nipples when I came.

Towards the very end of my drinking career I was so d***k one night that I decided to try sex with a man “as-a-man.” He was a nice guy, a professional engineer. He wanted me to swallow his nuts and bite as he came.
Like a slut, I did what he wanted, swallowing his nuts and biting as he came. Meanwhile, I was pretending I was in my favorite teddy. I wanted to be had like a gurl, with my legs wrapped around him as he plunged into me.
It was a dismal failure.

The pain and remorse after this encounter were almost too much for me. Once again I though about switching genders and “disappearing,” but with two beautiful daughters on the ground, I couldn’t abandon them.
When the wife had enough of my drinking and began procedures to file for a divorce, I had to choose between my love of alcohol and my f****y.

Of course, the kit was the first thing to go when I quit drinking. Well, the second thing. The booze went first and I have been blessed for the help I received in arresting my addiction.

Married with c***dren

I got real lucky and saved my f****y, or rather, they saved me. And for years, I had thought that my gurl was a direct outcome of the booze. One of the things I could do without.
But it happened one fall night, about four years into my sobriety when all were away for the weekend. BAM. I had a kit in less than two hours. It was due to my new job and I knew it. I hated the job.
I loved the silk of the bodice as it stretched across my skin, covering my raw nipples and cascading in a little arc down my ass.
The garters held the sheer thigh highs up in place and every movement, every gesture reminded me that I was dressed for HIM, a slutty little cock depository, a cum-dumpster.
The gurl made me happy.
As winter approached, I had concocted several outfits and a regular pattern of gurl time, as I worked the graveyard shifts. I made a kit that I could taking outdoors with me, either fishing, hunting, whatever and put on in the field beneath my heavy winter clothes.
It was wonderful and I began to look for outdoor adventures, fucking myself in the woods and creeks.
I bought what looked like a nice, life-sized dildo and began to experiment with it. Much better than veggie sex. But I never could get the pumping action going…so of course I tried incorporating the pillows into the action.
We have always had a ton of pillows. One day, after stacking the pillows and pushing my clitty and labias behind me, I felt the top of my clitty rub my virgin pussy.
I reached back and guided the head of my clitty into my slutty, aching hole. I played with my nipples as I pounded it into me, although it really doesn’t get in too far. Just the head in the outer opening, but inside enough that I could feel the sperm shoot into my body and then dribble down my thigh, calf and foot.
It was ecstasy. I think I came three times that day.
It was about then that I traded the job I hated for one that I despised. I hurt my knee, and then my back.
I knew I would have to do something while laying up recuperating, so I turned my attention towards understanding computers and the web.

The Internet

We had slow, slow dial-up and a little crappy computer set up in the one of the daughter’s rooms so they could do their homework. Our ‘new’ computer sat in the living room unconnected. That daughter graduated and I turned her room into a “recovery room.”
I learned to stream music, understand a bit about windows and begin to surf the web. It was like a giant library and I soon was looking for transexual information.
I soon learned that I was not alone.
I remember getting dressed and going into transgendered chat rooms, swacked on pain pills. I began to dress daily.
My kit had turned into a wardrobe and I had finally found some size 12 strappy 4” spikes. (Payless IS a gurl’s best friend.)
I learned a lot about being transgendered and discovered information about the XXY gene.
I am pretty sure that this could be a genetic thing, this crossing of the brain and sexual desires that some of us have. My father lost his long-standing professional job because of a “gay” action while d***k. My uncle (his b*****r) was gay too.
But like I’ve said….men as a man doesn’t even interest me.
Get me in a skirt and hose and I want that cock!
I took my first pics dressed and uploaded them at this time. They were pretty bad. I pulled them all down when I left the site.

I tried another site, a MU, or better known as an animated chat. The advertisement was “Be what you WANT to be!” I was soooo there. In fact, I still am. I love it.

I came to the conclusion that I am what I am. Releasing Fiona into my brain “settled” a huge void within me. Now she is struggling to get out through my body I think.

I found Xhamster while looking for lactation videos. I’ve always wanted full, flowing nipples of milk for my man to suck out of me as he is pounding my pussy and was surfing the net before work.

Here was the “social” network I was looking for. I have met a lot of nice kind people on Xhamster and of course, my share of perverts.
I suppose that I’m one, so I fit right in!

NOW

I’ve come to accept the fact that I don’t have a nice thin, cute little body that would readily transition to the female form, Fiona, in my mind. I think that if we had the technology for transition that we have now, back in the late 80’s, I just might have gone through with it.
As I began here on Xhamster, I thought that a readily source of she-male and cross-dressing porn would perhaps alleviate some of my cravings and desires. But as I began to watch the videos, usually dressed, my desire to lactate grew greater and greater so I continued my web searches and found a forum for males lactating.
I followed some of their suggestions and discarded others, like unregulated hormones

I currently can extract a little milk each day from my stimulated nipples. I like to do that as I masturbate, with my little clitty-head barely sunk into my otherwise virgin pussy, dreaming of one man thrusting inside of me while another sucks me dry.

My boobs now are a lot softer and I have lost a great deal of “strength” in my upper body. I love the way they now bounce, even without my silicone forms, when I strap on my heels and walk around in my miniskirts and garters.

I began to experiment with photographs again and am somewhat pleased so far with the results. I’m on a campaign to lose weight, in order to expand my photo-shooting capabilities, and get into some sexier clothes.
I usually wear a thong or panties to work beneath my hated boy-clothes. I only wear bikini-style “boy panties” when I have to wear boy underwear.
I’ve been shaving my bikini-line, my boobs and the top half of my thighs for taking pics. Not just because I love the feel of my own smooth, soft, hairless skin. But to feel the soft fabric of the hose and the feel of the satin laces holding the garter-clips moving across my sheer thighs. Every step reminds me of what a slut I am.
I’ve also begun to shave my boobs daily, liking the smooth feel as I milk or stimulate them for lactation.


I find myself still in the closet, although pretty sure that my f****y knows about my dressing, we don’t discuss it. I love my wife and can’t even think about cheating on her with another woman.

But as Fiona, as a gurl --- the slut in me wants to get a hotel room and service cocks all night … I live near an interstate so I’ve often pondered meeting a trucker in his cab. Or a bunch of truckers.

As Fiona, would I be cheating? Or would I just be “true” to another being within my psyche?

This is the big question that keeps me locked in the closet.

My wantonness wants to have a nice, thick throbbing pike of manhood in my pussy, to feel it pound me until I cum (hands free if possible) and feel him shoot his seed deep into me, and then have me suck it dry. Or make it hard again for another round.

I would love to experience being fucked like a gurl, just once.

I do get to travel in my job, so the opportunity is there. But I hate the shame and guilt of cheating. I vividly remember that time with the engineer and the guilt was terrible.
I think a big part of me is afraid that if I let Fiona run amok, I would love it so much that I couldn’t stop, that my inner-slut would rise to the fore and literally fuck-up my marriage.

I do believe that a lot of us cross-dressers/she-males/Trannys have the XXY syndrome, as I unprofessionally call it, as I’ve stated above.
A lot of ancient societies, like the Plains tribes of North America, had sacred positions for transgendered people. I can’t prove that being transgendered is genetic, but I have a strong hunch that it is.

I’ve found that I LOVE wearing thongs, have found some that can cradle my lil clitty and labias…keeping them high and encased in sexy silk all day.

I’ve recently read that men prefer string-bikinis though. I have some of course, three pair of silky, satin, black ones. So it looks like I must not have purged them for a reason????

I don’t purge anymore. I sort. The old stuff gets worked into nice soft rags.

I love to gurl shop. When the teens were here, it was rather easy. Just collect everything they threw away that I liked. Since I travel, I can shop at odd hours, in different towns. I love the self-serve machines.

I also like to shop in large urban areas, especially the thrift shops.

I paint both my toes and finger nails. The fingernails I paint sheer, with a couple coats of hardener during the week. On the weekends I paint them shades of light pink. When I strip them for the work week, a wee bit of the pink colors them to a natural shade.

The toenails are like a chromed-pink with a coat of pink glitter and a hardener. I keep them like that all the time except summer.

I broke down and bought a bright pink wig the other day. And a new bikini swim suit. And NO no pics in the swim suit … I cannot afford to replace lenses on cameras.

I am not good with makeup yet. I do practice a bit with hunting makeup, but that is all.

I love to walk around in the dark, or early morning hours beneath full moon dressed and in my heels. I always wear my heels when I am doing a photoshoot.

I’d love to try and ‘pass’ some night. Go to a club in the big city and get picked up…you know, the things we slatterns crave.

Looking back on the last chapter of this saga, I have to ask myself…am I denying Fiona her legacy?? Or am I just sliding towards the inevitable night when a huge, thick cock spreads my virgin boi-pussy and finally fills me like the little cum-slut I am?... Continue»
Posted by prairieFreak13 1 year ago  |  Categories: Shemales  |  Views: 1054  |  
94%
  |  18

Introduction to Slavery

The Problem

My wife and I had been fighting. Serious fighting. We were both
to the point where we had
stopped the anger and had begun serious discussions about getting
divorced. Looking back on this now,
it's hard for me to see who was really right and who was really wrong.
I'm not sure I can even tell you
who was mad about what. For about a month we just kind of co-existed,
neither of us talking much; only
when absolutely necessary. Then Megan said she wanted to give it one more
shot.
"Jason, let's try one more thing. Let's both take a week off from
work and go on a vacation.
Let's take a week to see if divorce is really the right thing."
It sounded fair to me, so I agreed. She insisted on working out
the details and told me to plan
on taking off at the end of the month, two and a half weeks away. I made
an attempt to make love to her
that night, but she wanted to put it off until the vacation.

The Vacation

I was ready. More than ready. It had been nearly two months
since I'd had sex, and I'd
decided not to "relieve" myself in hopes of a thoroughly satisfying
vacation. Megan had seen to all the
details...we were to leave the airport at 5:30 this evening; the airport
is nearly an hour away, and she
also needed to make a stop on the way, so we were leaving early in the
afternoon. I was a little baffled
by the way she avoided any of my questions regarding the island she'd
booked and any other questions I
came up with, but I didn't think about it too much. I was glad to be
getting away.
Megan had insisted on driving, and I understood why we'd left so
early when it took forever to
get to an old farmhouse on the other side of town. When I asked again
just why we were stopping here,
she hopped out and said she'd just be a minute. After being gone for
about five minutes, she re-appeared
at the door of the house calling for me to come in. She led me in and
took me into a bedroom on the
second floor. I started to ask AGAIN what was going on when she smiled
and put a finger to my lips.
She led me to the foot of the four-post bed which, to my surprise had
wrist cuffs attached up high; she
fastened me to the overhead cuffs, and then spread my legs and attached
them to the legs of the bed. I
was beginning to understand....or so I thought.
"There is no trip to an island, is there?" I asked with a small
grin. She just looked up at me and
smiled a devilish smile. My shirt was unbuttoned, and my Levi's were
opened up. She began to lick and
tease my long neglected cock, and I was quickly lost in the sensation. As
she sucked my cock, a woman
in a leather corset came into the room and began speaking.
"Hello Jason." she said casually, as if we'd known each other for
years. I was completely
dumbfounded, and my erection began to soften. Megan renewed her efforts,
sucking harder and using
her hands to manipulate me.
Ignoring the fact that my wife was sucking me off and that my
mouth was hanging wide open in
shock, the woman continued. "My name is Victoria..Mistress Victoria," she
said with a confident smile.
"Your wife has informed me of some of your troubles, and has asked for my
help." I looked down at my
wife, but she remained absorbed in her work on my erection. "She has
agreed to leave you with me for
a week. I believe that I can help save your marriage, but you're going to
have to do exactly as I say."
She moved in close to my face. "And you want to do just as I tell you,
don't you Jason?" My cock
throbbed.
"I...I..don't know." I stuttered. "What...?" I looked down at my
wife, pleading for some
explanation. For the first time I tested my bindings. Not a chance..I
wasn't going anywhere until
someone released me.
Mistress Victoria chuckled. "That's right. Struggle. You see
you're trapped, don't you?" She
grabbed my jaw and f***ed me to look into her eyes. Megan continued to
suck, and I felt a weakness
taking me. My mind swirled, and I realized that there was a chance I was
going to cum. "Jason. You
want to obey me, don't you? hmmm?" She nodded my head affirmative, or I
nodded. I don't know
which. "Say it Jason." she commanded, with a little f***e.
"Yes" I managed to groan out meekly. "Yesss."
Suddenly Megan stopped. She stood up, leaving me gasping. She
smiled at me and gave me a
kiss on the lips. "This's going to be fine, Jason. I knew you'd like
this. I love you honey!" she kissed
me again, then turned to walk out the door. "I'll be back in a week to
pick you up!"
"Wait!" I cried out. "Where are you going?" But she was gone.
Mistress Victoria began to slowly walk across the room, pacing.
"She's taking that trip to an
island, Jason. I have a friend there who is going to help her understand
your needs." She smiled
wickedly at me as she walked over to me and grabbed my failing erection.
"I know what your needs are,
and I'm going to teach you some things." My mouth was hanging open again,
and I looked down to see
the strange woman fondle my balls.
She spelled out the ground rules to me as she continued to keep me
aroused. She was to be
addressed as Mistress at all times, I was to never look directly at her
unless she commanded, and
basically, I was to obey her every command. She took a large pair of
sheers and cut away all of my
clothing. It dawned on me that I had no other clothing, and I felt
incredibly naked.
Mistress Victoria proceeded to blindfold me. "I need to know that
you're going to do everything
I tell you, Jason." She had gotten onto the bed behind me to put the
blindfold on; her hands played lightly
across my chest, pausing to harden my nipples. Her breath was on my neck,
and I began to tremble
slightly. She chuckled. "Tell me that you'll do anything I wish, Jason."

"I'll do anything you wish" I replied. She pinched my nipple hard.
"Mistress!" she snapped.
"Mistress!" I said. "I'll do anything you wish Mistress!"
Inwardly I cringed. I felt like a
coward, and my cock began to soften.
I felt her presence in front of me again, and oily hands were on
my cock. "Jason, you need to
make me aware of your servitude. I'm going to teach you how to do that.
When I'm through with you,
you will be 100 percent slave. Do you understand me?"
Her oily fingers had my cock hard again. My need was strong;
"yes," I replied. "Mistress" I
added.
"Your wife is being very good to you, don't you think?" she
continued, not waiting for an
answer. (I did manage to utter a moan) "She's on her way to meet a friend
of mine, Master Brett." she
paused to let that sink in, and strangely my cock throbbed harder; I know
she felt it. She was smiling, I
knew it, and it humiliated me. "He's going to teach her to feel like a
woman again; he will give her
orgasms like she's never had. He's going to fuck her, Jason." She
accented on "fuck", and stroked me
harder and slipped a finger over my anus. "Did you hear me Jason? He's
going to fuck her." At that she
slipped an oily finger into my ass.
"Oh god" was all I could say.
Her finger opened me up. "You want to be fucked, don't you Jason?
You're MY slut, aren't
you baby?"
"Yes." I was moaning and struggling. "Please."
"Please what? Hmmm? Tell me what you want."
I didn't know what to say. I'm not even sure why I said please;
it just kind of came out. "Oh
god. I'll do anything you want. Please. Just don't stop."
She chuckled. "Oh yes, you'll do anything, everything I want.
But *I* control *you*..I'll stop
if I wish. I have the power to satisfy you, and the power to punish you.
It's time for you to taste a little
punishment." I moaned a plea as she stopped playing with my cock. She
was behind me again,
unfastening my hands. For some reason I didn't resist when she cuffed my
hands behind my back. In
front of me again, I felt her attach some kind of harness to my aching
cock and balls; my blindfold was
removed, and a leash was attached to my cock harness. My ankles were
released, and she f***ed me to
follow her by tugging on the leash. Down all the way to the basement I
followed, down to the dark and
damp depths of the old farmhouse. The basement was large, and seemed to
have several rooms in other
areas. It was hard to see, but I could make out the shapes of unusual
tables, and the walls were cluttered
with strange devices. I was stretched tightly between two poles and bound
in a standing spread eagle
position. Again, I didn't even think about resisting; the blindfold came
on again.
"I'm going to whip you Jason, and break you. When I'm through
with you, you will be a
groveling fuck." I felt what must be her whip moving lightly over my
chest, then on my back and across
my buttocks. My cock was betraying me again, and I was trembling. There
was silence for a moment,
then I felt her attaching something to my balls. Something heavy was now
hanging from my balls,
pulling them low! I felt so strange, so lewd. This humiliation was
somehow causing me to burn with
desire; I didn't understand what it meant, but I had no time to think on
it; the whipping had begun.
At first I really didn't think it would be a big deal, but she
seemed to increase the intensity until
I began to genuinely feel pain. And she kept going. And going. My
entire back was on fire, my legs
and my buttocks. I began to think she'd never stop, but when she finally
did, she started in on my chest.
For awhile I felt the weight on my balls tugging them around, but
eventually all I felt was the burning
strikes. She moved to my back again, and I began to yelp and groan
without meaning to. I was losing
control. Pain truly does not bother me, but this constant whipping was
beginning to have an effect. I felt
tears well up unbidden. I was crying, softly at first, then loudly. I
heard myself begging for her to stop;
my head was spinning.
I found myself lying curled up on the cold cement floor; the cool
floor was soothing my skin.
Through teary eyes I looked up to see Mistress Victoria standing patiently
over me. She knelt down and
held my chin with one hand.
"You see? You're breaking. You would be foolish to resist me any
longer." She grinned a
cocky grin. "On the first night, you caved. You're nothing now."
I felt my cock stirring. This was so humiliating; I didn't
understand how she could have such an
impact on me that way. She picked up the leash and ordered me to "Come
on."
She led me to a simple bar stool and had me bend over it. I
thought of resisting this time, but
she was right...I was broken already. I had no will, and was already hers
to use. My ankles were tied
very tightly to the legs of the stool, and my hands were tied tightly to
my knees which were secured to
either side of the stool. It had a wide base, and was in no danger of
toppling over. And then there was
silence. She'd left and gone upstairs.
It seemed like I was there forever, but it had only been about 10
minutes when I heard her
coming back down the stairs behind me.
She sat down in front of me, drinking a glass of wine. Her eyes
studied mine; I felt her
intruding my mind. A smile came across her face. "I trust that you've
been thinking long and hard
about your predicament?"
"Yes." I said meekly. Her smile disappeared. "Mistress. Yes
Mistress." I quickly added.
She nodded her head. "Your wife came to me, truly wanting to save
your marriage. But it's
going to have to be by her rules. You've seen in the short time that
you've been here that your body
enjoys being dominated. When the week is done, you will respond that way
to your wife. She will own
you body and soul." She'd seen my cock rising higher. "You see? It's
what you want. Tell me."
I couldn't deny what my body had betrayed. My buried fantasies
were taking over. "Yes
Mistress. It's what I want." I lowered my eyes in shame.
She set her glass of wine down and stood. Walking behind me she
continued. "You will prove
your love for her. You will give in to your desires and confess your
fantasies." I heard her doing
something, changing perhaps, and then she walked back into view. "You
will beg to be violated, and
prove your desires to serve." She'd strapped on a dildo! My mouth opened
in shock, but it shouldn't
have. The position she'd tied me in gave her plans away. I hardly
noticed the camcorder she had in her
hand. A few feet away was a tripod, and she put the camera on it; a few
adjustments through the
viewfinder, and the red light came on...recording. If I'd felt shame and
embarrassment before, it tripled
just now. Yet my cock throbbed on.
She was in front of me again, casually opening a jar of some kind
of lotion. "Suck my cock
slut!" she commanded, thrusting the dildo in my face. I complied. I'd
never done anything remotely
close to that before, and my mind was reeling. "Stop. Now look at the
camera and state your full
name."
Pausing for only a moment, I did as she commanded. She laughed a
sinister laugh. "Now tell
me what you are."
"Your slave, Mistress Victoria." I was defeated.
"Now beg for your violation." She began to sensuously coat the
dildo with the lotion. "Tell me
what a weak slut you are."
I began begging. Begging to be fucked in the ass, begging for her
to violate and shame me. I
told her that I was her slut. As I begged, she coated my back with the
soothing lotion, then my ass, then
she began on my asshole.
"Your wife explained to me that you play head games with her.
You've been a manipulative
ass. *I* can be manipulative too." Her finger was in me, emphasizing
each point she made. "I will tell
you right off that I'm performing a type of conditioning on you right now.
This week, and from here on
after, the only time you will be permitted to cum will be with something
in your ass. After a time, that
will be the only way you'll be able to cum." The dildo was pressing in.
I grunted as she pushed it all
the way in; and she didn't move.
I was panting, my mouth open. "Oh, god." I moaned.
"Yes, slut. You're being violated. Your last barrier. Do you
feel the surrender? It's on video,
too. Your wife will enjoy watching this." Then she began to slowly fuck
me. She made me beg, beg
for anything, beg to serve, beg to be humiliated, and beg for release.
Finally, feeling complete shame
and humiliation, my body responded on its own. I began to pump my seed
out onto the floor.
She released me and commanded me to lick up my mess. I did
without a second thought; it was
like I was in a dream. I was then led over to a shelf filled with
different items; my cock harness and
weights were removed, and she then strapped on what she called a "male
chastity harness". It was a
metal wire cage that held my penis snugly; it was obvious to me that any
erection attempt was going to
be painful. She then led me to one of the rooms in the basement. It had
apparently been some kind of
storage cellar converted into a tiny bedroom. A twin bed nearly filled
the room; a small plumbed toilet
sat in one corner, and a tiny shower stood in another. A television set
with a built-in VCR sat on a shelf
at the foot of the bed. She pushed me in, and told me to watch the video
that was in the TV.
"Get plenty of rest. But make sure you're up and showered for me
early. Tomorrow you will
have chores, and will then learn how to properly please a woman." The
door was shut, and I heard the
lock turn.
Naked, sore, and humiliated, I used the restroom and showered with
cool water. The video was
a homemade one, apparently made in the same way mine was. It must have
been over an hour of
complete torture and humiliation of an older man. Unfortunately for me, I
began to get aroused. The
harness was tight, and incredibly uncomfortable. Eventually though, I was
able to sl**p.
***
The next morning I was ready. She seemed pleased that I had
showered and was waiting for
her. I was kept naked, with the harness still in place. She had me kneel
on the floor in a corner of the
kitchen to eat my breakfast. I was impressed; it was a large plate of
sausage and eggs, with some orange
juice. She explained to me that her assistant had prepared the meal, and
that I'd better eat up; I'd need
my strength.
After breakfast, I was led outside to a barn (still naked). She
gave me a large pair of rubber
boots to put on and then had me clean out the barn. I spent the entire
morning shoveling horseshit,
spreading straw, and then brushing the horses. As I was brushing the
fourth and last horse, Mistress
Victoria came striding into the barn...with a young woman walking next to
her! I began to panic, acutely
aware that I was buck naked with a harness strapped around my dick!
Mistress Victoria laughed and told me to stand still; this was her
assistant Candice. They were
both dressed for riding, and both seemed amused at my embarrassment.
"Candy is going to teach you
how to saddle a horse, and any of the finer points of horse maintenance
that you will need to know. I'll
be back in a while, and then Candy and I will take a ride." Then she came
close to me.."You will treat
Candice with the same respect you have shown me." Then she was gone.
I looked shyly at Candice who still had an amused smile on her
face. She was probably not
much over 20 years old, was pretty in the face, and seemed only mildly
plump.
"Don't worry, I don't bite she said smoothly. I'm a student at
the university, and Victoria has
been my friend since I was a c***d. I help her out with things around
here, from chores to video
editing." She winked at me. "That's what I study, video technology."
Her way of talking put me at ease somewhat; I could tell she must
be a lot of fun to be around.
She managed to teach me how to saddle a horse, and we had two of them
ready to go in no time.
Mistress Victoria was back before any idle time went by. She led
me by the arm over to a low
hanging beam that had cuffs hanging from a chain. I hadn't noticed it
before. She snapped the cuffs on
my wrists, and the chain was pulled until my arms were over my head. She
also freed my penis from the
harness. I grew hard almost immediately. Candice was standing there
watching, that little smile of hers
ever present. I looked down; my humiliation returned ten-fold. She and I
had begun to chat like old
friends awhile ago, and now here I was again, feeling like a humble fool.
With an erection to prove that
I enjoyed it. God.
"We'll be back in a few! Don't run away!" Mistress said with a
laugh.
It must have been a good 45 minutes before they returned; my arms
were aching, but my cock
the betrayer rose once again as soon as they were in sight. They were
laughing and giggling, and
Mistress Victoria came over to me. "Candy, I'm going to stay out here for
a few. Why don't you go on
in and continue on the video we've been working on." She was fondling my
hard cock as she spoke, and
Candice made no effort to ignore it. She walked away with that damned
smile on her face.
"It's time to continue your conditioning, Jason, my slut." She
reached into her pocket and
pulled out a small tube of KY. Slowly, deliberately, she put some on her
middle finger, then reached
around me like she was hugging me. With her face inches from mine, she
spread my asscheeks and
inserted her finger. Then she knelt and sucked me until I came. She kept
my load in her mouth as she
stood up; putting her mouth to mine, she transferred my cum to my mouth.
"Now swallow." I did. "That's a good little bitch" she said as
she let me loose. "Now
unsaddle the horses, brush them down, and then come inside."
Weakly, I did as she ordered. There was a note on the door for me
to go to my cell and
shower. I ended up passing Candice on the way down, and she stared at me
with a knowing smile. I felt
dirty and used, and was ashamed for her to see me like that.
Once out of the shower, I was ordered by Mistress Victoria to
kneel between Candice's legs and
to take my time licking her. Candice merely looked up at me from her work
at her table, and spread her
legs. I spent over an hour there nuzzling and licking this young girl's
pussy. She never once gave any
indication that I was doing anything at all.
The phone rang, and Mistress Victoria came into the room talking
on a cordless phone. She
looked at me and told me it was my wife and handed me the handset. So
there I was, kneeling between
the legs of Candice, listening to my wife tell me about how wonderful a
time she was having on this
beautiful island. She hung up after telling me she'd be home Friday; I'd
hardly said a word.
"Break's over. Back to work Jason." Mistress Victoria took the
phone from me and pushed my
face back into Candice's wetness.
***
The next few days were filled with the same...I did many normal
household chores, went down
on Candice every time she came over, was bound and whipped several times,
a ton of video was taken,
and at least once a day I was made to cum, but only when I had some form
of anal penetration.
Thursday afternoon came, and I was kneeling in the kitchen,
scrubbing the floor; the phone
rang, and Mistress Victoria answered it. I could hear just a few of the
words she spoke..a lot of "I see"
and laughing. After hanging up, she came in looking very cheery.
"It seems that things have changed, somewhat. Things are going to
turn out better than I
expected." She seemed to be musing more to herself, not really talking to
me. My curiosity was
aroused, but I knew better than to ask.
That evening, Mistress Victoria fucked me. Not in the ass, and
with nothing in my ass. She said
she was ready to test me, to see how much control I'd learned. I was
warned that if I came, I'd be
severely punished, and not in a way that I'd enjoy. She tied me spread
eagled, then fucked and fucked
me. Then she untied me and had me do all the work. She had cum many
times, and I hadn't once. In
fact, it seems she was right...I really had been in no danger of losing
it; without anything in my ass, I
could last indefinitely!
After my cock had finally softened, she put the chastity harness
on me. "That won't come off
now until your wife arrives." She laughed as if she'd just told a joke.

Megan Arrives

The day wouldn't go by fast enough. It was Friday, and my wife
was suppose to be here this
evening. Mistress Victoria seemed to pay extra attention to me all day
long. She would fondle me here,
touch me there. I was bound off and on in many different ways.
Dusk was settling in when Mistress Victoria unfastened me from my
bent over position. She
had been teasing my ass, caressing it, lightly spanking me and putting
alligator clips all around it. She
took me down to the basement, the dungeon as I began to think of it. My
arms were strapped together
tightly behind my back, and my feet were fastened spread apart to rings in
the floor. A chain was
attached to my collar then clipped to the ceiling. It was loose enough
that I could bend halfway to the
floor if I so chose. Or was so ordered to. Then came the blindfold. And
a ball gag. She'd only used
that on me once, when I was being whipped earlier in the week. It seemed
exceptionally tight on my
face this time. Then the cock harness came off.
I stood there for awhile, contemplating the week. I couldn't
believe all that had happened. I
had to admit to myself that I enjoyed it; if Megan wanted this type of
relationship, if this is what would
make her happy, then maybe things could work out okay. Suddenly I heard
voices.
A man's voice...was greeting Mistress Victoria. I listened hard
to hear the voice of my wife.
Nothing yet. They were coming down the stairs. The man laughed.
"I see you've got him trussed up and ready for us Victoria!" his
voice boomed. "And I see he's
glad to hear us." he laughed again as he lightly slapped my cock. I
hadn't been aware of it, but I had
been getting an erection; and now that he called my attention to it, it
throbbed higher. He grabbed it for
just a moment and chuckled. This was bizarre. A man touching my cock,
and it was throbbing. He
then spoke directly to me.
"So, Jason. I've heard a lot about you. Has Victoria taught you
anything? Do you think you
can please your wife now? Hmm?" His fingers played lightly with the
bottom of my scrotum. My
breathing was fast, and I moaned into the gag.
"I found out some interesting things about your wife during our
trip." He was circling me as he
spoke. "She has needs, Jason. Strong needs. I learned much about her as
we fucked." His breath was
on my neck...my cock was aching. "You like that, don't you Jason? You
like it that I fucked her." He
grabbed my balls, and spoke into my ear. "You slut."
"As I was saying..I learned that she...." he laughed..."is a slut
just like you." My blindfold was
ripped off. In front of me, just a few feet away, was my wife, bound just
like I was. She was facing me
with a ball gag tight in her mouth, and she was looking directly at me.
She was naked, and her nipples
were hard. Mistress Victoria was behind her, touching her sides, running
her hands all over her
nakedness.
It hit me like a ton of bricks. I'd expected to be turned over to
a dominating wife, one who'd do
all the dirty things that had been done to me. I was anticipating trying
to serve her, obey her every wish.
But here she was, bound just like me, weak and naked.
"That's right, Jason. Your wife is just as pliable as you are.
She begs to serve also. She begs
for it in the ass just like you, slut." I could see Megan shiver as he
spoke; Mistress Victoria was still
behind her, and from the way Megan squirmed, I knew she was being probed
in the ass.
My cock felt like it was going to explode. As I looked down out
of humiliation, I could see that
my cockhead was wet with precome.
"Jason, you slutty slave, from here on out you will call me Master
Brett just as your wife does."
He was still behind me, and he grabbed my balls again. "Any objections?"
Spittle was beginning to run down my jaw from having the gag on
for so long. I shook my head
no, humbly, and felt spit drip onto my chest.
"Then let me hear you say it." He unbuckled and removed the gag.
"Say it!" he hissed.
I lowered my head in shame. "Master...Master Brett"
"Good, good boy." He massaged my shoulders. "Now tell me what
you'll do, slave."
"Anything you wish, Master." My voice was weak.
"That's right, slut, you will do *everything* I command. Now look
at your wife. Look at that
slut. See how she likes it in the ass?" Mistress Victoria was really
fucking her in the ass now. It was
easy to see the ecstasy in Megan's eyes. "I fucked her over and over in
the ass. She loved it. She
begged for more. And now she's mine, Jason. She will obey me in every
way."
Mistress Victoria stopped what she was doing. Megan moaned a plea
through her gag. Mistress
Victoria walked around towards me; in her hand was the slim dildo she'd
been fucking Megan with. She
wiped it off on a towel, then came up behind me. "Beg." was all she said.
I started to lower my head, but she stopped me. "No. Look into
Megan's eyes. Beg, and don't
stop looking at her."
God, this was twisting my mind. "Please, Mistress. Fuck me.
Fuck my ass." I said it looking
directly into Megan's eyes. Her eyes rolled back as if someone had
caressed her intimately. And then I
was invaded, and I grunted my ecstasy.
Master Brett came around in view. "See Megan, my bitch? He loves
it. He will serve me well
too." He walked over to her and removed her gag. "Who owns you little
one? Tell your slut husband
who owns you."
"You own me, Master. He owns me Jason. He owns *us*, Jason."
Then she looked at him,
pleading. "Anything, Master. Anything you wish."
"Command your slut of a husband to prepare me." he said as he
walked over to me. He began
to unbutton his pants.
"Do it Jason! Do it! Suck his cock. Get him ready for me!" Her
excitement was obvious.
I was still being fucked by my Mistress, and had no control left
to resist. My mouth was
hanging open, and Master Brett was standing in front of me. He had a
cocky smile on his face, then he
grabbed my hair and lowered me to his cock. This was not a dildo, this
was the real thing. My lips
wrapped around it..it was warm; no, hot. I had a cock in my ass and one
in my mouth, and I was lost.
He fucked my face for a minute, then pulled my head off. He got behind
Megan who was in heat. She
was moving her ass around, panting, begging her master to fuck her.
"Jason, watch me fuck your wife, my slut." He held her head up,
facing me. "Look into his
eyes, Megan. Show him what you are." Then he entered her easily; she was
open and ready, and he was
slick from my saliva. He fucked her hard, and after a few minutes he came
inside her. As they came
together, Mistress Victoria jerked my cock until I came also.

A new life

We were sent home the next morning after being ordered not to have
sex in any way. In a few
days we would receive our new instructions from them by phone. We
belonged to Master Brett and
Mistress Victoria, we were theirs to do with as they pleased. Neither of
us were in control of our lives
anymore; we had been introduced to slavery, and we were hooked.... Continue»
Posted by subseeker 4 years ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Fetish, Taboo  |  Views: 1910  |  
92%
  |  5

The Surprise Vacation



The Surprise Vacation


by an unknown author and Tristmegistus

1. Chapter - Innocent Beginnings

"Did you take your vitamin, dear?" Ellen called from the bathroom.

I rubbed sl**p from my eyes and picked up the pill bottle, rolling a big
tablet into my palm. "My horse pill? I'm doing it now."

"Have you noticed any difference yet?"

"Nah. Vitamins are pretty much all alike." She'd gone on a minor health
kick a month before, insisting that I needed to lose a little weight and
take better care of myself. I hadn't actually made it to the gym to work
out like she was though.

"Where's my underwear honey?" I asked my wife, poking through my almost
empty drawer. It was Saturday morning. I had noticed that my underwear
had been disappearing from my drawer over the last couple of weeks. I
thought nothing of it, figuring that she'd simply been too busy to do
laundry.

"Something went wrong with the washing machine and it ruined everything
in the last load," she said.

"Well, what am I going to wear?"

She emerged from the bathroom, dipped into her side of the dresser.
"Here, put these on," she smiled, handing me a pair of her pink satin
panties. "Now don't give me any fake macho bullshit. I know you love
wearing my panties. In fact, I know you've secretly worn this very pair
before."

I looked at her dumfounded. I thought that I'd successfully hidden my
fetish from her. I'd been so careful.

"C'mon, let's put these on you,"she teased. I was beet red as I numbly
stepped into them and let her pull them up to my hips. She stroked my cock
through the fabric, a lot like I often did. "Mmmm, I see that someone
finds this exiting. We may have to keep it like that." I wasn't sure what
she meant by that remark, but was too embarrassed to ask. I hurriedly put
the rest of my clothes on, jeans and a T-shirt. She gave me a slightly
disapproving look and said, "Well, I need take you shopping and get some
new underwear for you, among other things."

I said, "Can't you just pick up some for me? I want to look at that
washing machine and watch the football game."

Since she absolutely despises football, this would normally have set her
off on a tirade, but surprisingly, she just smiled sweetly and said, "Don't
worry about the washer. I fixed it myself. Go ahead and enjoy your
football honey. I'll get everything you need."

So while she was shopping, I lay on the couch stroking myself through
the panties, embarrassed that my wife knew of my fetish, but relieved that
she seemed so low key about it. The game turned out to be pretty boring
and I thought about raiding her closet for something else to wear, but now
that she knew, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I ended up
taking a nap. I woke up when she came home, loaded with bags from various
stores. I started to get up to help.

"Just stay there, I'll put everything away. What do you say that we go
out for dinner?"

"That sounds like a good idea."

"Great. But first, I have a surprise for you. Stand up and close your
eyes." I remembered that teasing look, that flirtatious tone. We hadn't
played sex games in a long time. In fact, we hadn't done anything sexual
in a long time. With a smile, I stood and did as she asked. The next
thing I knew, she pulled my hands behind my back and locked them with a
pair of handcuffs!

"What's this all about?"

"No comments from the peanut gallery," she said as she put some sort of
gag in my mouth.

Whatever it was filled up my whole mouth, all the way to the top of my
throat! As I explored it with my tongue, I realized that it was a penis
gag. What was going on?

"Now come along peacefully, or I'll have to take further steps." With
that I followed her into the bathroom. She took my hands and tied a strap
to them and pulled it up to the shower curtain, forcing me to bend over at
the waist. She then took a pair of scissors and proceeded to cut my
clothes off, ruining jeans I could have just stepped out of. It was all
pretty kinky, even for Ellen's sometimes bizarre moods, but except for the
embarrassment of having something shaped like a penis in my mouth, it
seemed harmless.

"You won't be needing those anymore," she said, tossing the rags that
had been my jeans and tee-shirt down the laundry chute.

She then took some shaving cream and a razor and proceeded to shave
every bit of hair below my eyebrows. I definitely didn't like the turn
things were taking, but fighting her while she stroked my most private
parts didn't seem like a good idea - and there wasn't a whole lot I

could do about it, anyway.

"I think that since you like wearing panties so much, you should have
the experience of everything else that goes along with it," she explained
as she worked over my underarms. "You'll find that all of your old clothes
have been replaced with something more suitable for your new station. I
think that about does it. Step in the shower and let's rinse you off."

There was nothing I could do except slide the strap down the bar and
step under the water. I was bewildered. Surely she hadn't really thrown
out all my clothes! As she rinsed all of the hairy soap off of my body, my
skin felt strange, tingly and oddly alive. She spent more time on my
weirdly naked penis, making it swell again. She patted me dry all over
with a big, soft towel and spread skin conditioner all over me, dwelling on
my semi-hard penis.

"Well that looks much better, but we'll have to do something about your
figure. That waistline will never do. You haven't been losing enough
weight, darling. Follow me and we'll take care of it."

As we walked into the bedroom, I saw some clothes laid out on the bed.
There was a corset, panties, stockings, and a short dress. She began to
put the corset on me, and said, "Your arms are in the way." With that, she
reached into one of the bags and pulled out a leather collar. She then put
some leather cuffs on my wrists, unlocked the metal ones, and quickly
hooked my hands behind my head to the collar.

This was starting to get too weird. Our sex games had died out a year
or so before. I'd known she was curious about bondage and stuff, but had
laid down the law and said no. I tried to talk around the thing in my
mouth, but she ignored me. I was able to offer only token

resistance as my arms were asl**p and numb from being pulled up and back
for so long. Next, she started hooking up the corset and pulling the laces
in behind me. Soon I couldn't breathe and still she was tightening the
laces.

"Is that uncomfortable? Too bad. It'll give you incentive to lose that
extra weight you've been ignoring, won't it?" With a final savage jerk, she
finished adjusting the laces with a full knot. "I think you'll have an
interesting time trying to untie that by yourself."

I silently agreed. It was more like being in a straight jacket than
lingerie. But there was an illicit thrill to it, despite my deepening
worry that she was going way too far with her fun.

"Now let's put some panties on you. Which pair would you like? You
don't care? That's no way for a lady to show interest in her appearance. I
guess we'll try this new pair of pink satin ones I bought you. Now you
don't have to steal mine, love. Oh, my! You really look cute in them."

Next came a set of latex breast forms which she teasingly placed in the
corset's half cups to fill out my chest. After that she rolled some
stockings up each leg, hooked them to the garters on the corset, and
smoothed them out. She quickly admired her work while I tried not to, too
embarrassed for words, even if the gag hadn't been in my mouth.

"Let's see how this dress I picked out for you fits." With that she
picked up a shimmery peach colored dress and worked it over the tangle of
my head and arms. As it fell over my breasts and hips it came down to only
mid-thigh.

She looked at me with a grin on her face and said, "Don't you look
adorable! You'll have to be very careful and ladylike when you sit or bend
over or the world will see your garters and panties. Only a slut would act
like that. If you act like a slut, I'll have to treat you like one."

What did she mean by 'the world will see you?' I didn't like the
implications in that statement.

"Step into these shoes," she said with the air of command, as she placed
a pair of matching peach shoes with about a 3-1/2 in heel on the floor.

I'd rarely dared to play with her high heels. They were a little too
tight, but the real reason I usually avoided them was because they awoke in
me a shame powerful enough to counterbalance the excitement of cross
dressing. I found it was tremendously difficult to keep my balance with my
hands fastened behind my neck.

"Now it's time for your makeup. I'm going to remove the gag, but I
don't want to hear a single word or I'll put it back in and leave it there
for a whole day." Ellen gave me a look that indicated she clearly meant it.

Well, I figured, we've gone this far, so why fight it. Besides,
cosmetics were another thing I'd never had the guts to try, and I'd often
fantasized about how I'd look. She spent the next thirty minutes
completing my makeup, going through foundation, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and
mascara, adding a light blush, and finishing with a bright, deep rose
lipstick. She topped it off with a light brown shoulder length wig.

"Now you can look at yourself," she said as she led me to a mirror.

I couldn't believe it! A beautiful girl looked back at me. If she was
alone in a bar, every guy in there would hit on her. The dress had a
scooped front almost to my breast forms, which were ample. It also showed
a very flattering figure. No wonder I couldn't breathe. Looking at the
reflection in the mirror, the hemline seemed even shorter, at least six
inches above my knees.

I heard a soft "click." I turned around, and my wife was taking pictures
of me!

"You can't admire yourself all day, sweetie. We've got a busy afternoon
and evening ahead of us."

My heart sank. She was really going to f***e me to go out dressed like
this! I started to speak, wanting to talk her out of it, but she picked up
the cock-shaped gag and moved ominously toward me. I shut up. With that,
my wife changed into a plain dress and fluffed her hair, not even bothering
to use any makeup on herself, which was unusual. She noted my confusion
and said, "I don't want to steal any of the attention you deserve, honey."

She clipped a leash to my collar and led me to the garage. As she
opened the passenger door, I began to fight her. "Honey what are you
trying to -"

She pushed me off balance, which wasn't hard, and stuffed the gag back
in my mouth, immediately strapped it behind my head. "I warned you! Now
you'll have to pay the price for disobedience!" She pushed me again and I
fell into the passenger seat. She buckled the seat belt.

Bound as I was, with my hands behind my head, there was no way I could
do anything but go along.

As she drove us away, she said, "I know you're dying of curiosity,
sweetie, wondering what this is all about. It's simple really. I noticed
about six months ago that my clothes and lingerie had been rearranged
almost every time you're home and I'm not. I started carefully marking my
hangers and drawers to confirm my suspicions, and I can name every time you
snuck into something sexy and even tell you what you wore. Really, I don't
mind, honey. In fact, it really turns me on. So I'm going to make sure
that you live your fantasy to the fullest. It's really perfect, because MY
fantasy is to dominate my husband completely and I'm going to act that out,
too."

I couldn't believe it! She must have caught on almost the very first
time I gave in to the impulse to see if silky feminine clothes felt as
wonderful as they looked. Well, the first time since I was a k**, anyway.

"I've arranged for you to take a two week surprise vacation starting
Monday. Your boss thinks that we're going on a cruise." She giggled. "In
a way, we are, aren't we? For the next two weeks, you're going to live
entirely as a female and follow my every command. If you give me

any shit at all, I'll send those pictures of you admiring yourself to
your boss and secretary. I think they'd get a good laugh from them, don't
you? To get you ready for our little adventure, we're going to the mall to
do some shopping for your vacation."

I kept hoping it was all a joke. That any moment she'd turn the car
around, laughing at how she'd scared me, and we'd play for a while in bed,
then it'd be over. But my guts were cold. I couldn't talk myself into
believing it'd happen that way. I knew she was dead serious. As we pulled
into the mall parking lot she said, "In case you're having any thoughts
about running away, remember that you don't have any car keys, wallet or
money. If you don't do exactly as I say, I'll leave you here to get back
on your own."

She was right! Trying to get home without her, dressed like this,
wasn't an option. I couldn't even think of hitchhiking. Cold sweat popped
out on my brow as I realized that I was stuck. I had to do what she said.
I didn't even want to think of what her plans were.

2. Chapter - The Mall

I was terrified. There I was, tied into my car seat, dressed as a woman
from high heels to wig, with my wrists handcuffed to a leather collar
around my neck, for all the world to see. And my wife had driven me to the
shopping mall to shop for clothes to complete my wardrobe. I wanted to cry
out in frustration and terror, but there was a penis-shaped gag buried in
my throat. The excitement I'd felt at home was long gone.

After she stopped the car in the parking lot, she turned to me and
unlocked the collar, cuffs, and removed the gag from my mouth. "Now, can I
trust you to behave in here, or will I have to really embarrass you? And
by behave I mean do everything I say without question."

With a numb feeling in my stomach I said, "Yes honey, I'll be good."

"Wonderful! I know we're going to have a marvelous time."

With that, she made me fix the lipstick the gag had smeared, and showed
me how to powder my sweaty forehead. We got out of the car and walked into
the mall. The heels caused my hips to sway noticeably. I did my best to
minimize it.

She looked at me with a grin and said, "My, aren't we calling attention
to ourselves!" and laughed merrily. "Our first stop is at the beauty
parlor. We don't have that much time, so today we'll just touch up your
makeup and do your nails. Your hair can wait until tomorrow. I've already
made an appointment for you."

The voyage through the crowded mall was tremendously humiliating. I
kept waiting for someone to recognize me, or see through the disguise my
wife had applied and sneer at a man in a short dress and makeup. It was
almost a relief to near the beauty shop. While I didn't draw any

of the disgusted looks I was afraid of, I got way too much attention,
and the appreciative smiles were almost worse than mockery would have been.

We walked into the parlor, and she talked to the receptionist. "Hello.
I called earlier for a 'special appointment' for Sheila."

A pretty brunette overheard and approached. "Hi! I'm Cindy and
everything is ready. Follow me please." She led us past the filled
stations into a back room. "Please have a seat here." I looked at the
chair and then my wife with some misgivings.

"SIT DOWN! You heard what the lady said!" my wife commanded and shoved
me into the chair. Before I could recover, she pulled two velcro lined
straps out of her purse and quickly strapped my arms to the armrests,
rendering me completely helpless. "Now sit there quietly, or I'll have to
take further steps."

The stylist was trying, though not very hard, to cover a big smirk on
her face.

"Go ahead and start on her. I don't think she'll give you any trouble.
How long do you think this will take?"

"For everything you asked for, about an hour and a half."

"Good, I'll be back then. I've got some shopping to do. If she gives
you any trouble, feel free to take whatever action you think is
appropriate." She then walked out of the store, leaving me alone with the
stylist.

"You aren't going to make any trouble, are you?" she teased.

I shook my head no, not trusting my voice. Sounding like a man would've
been too embarrassing, and I'd feel like a fool if I tried a false woman's
voice.

"Too bad. I think I'd enjoy disciplining and humiliating you. You're
obviously into it. Maybe I should see if my boyfriend would look as good
as you do dressed up."

That definitely made me decide not to resist - as if I could have
anyway. I did my best to ignore her flattery, too. The last thing I wanted
to do was look too much like a woman.

"Debbie here is going to do your nails, and I'll be giving you a light
makeover. Your lady friend made a separate appointment for your hair for
tomorrow." She turned her attention to my face and began working me over as
Debbie began my nails.

Sixty minutes later, she was still working on my face, and Debbie had
mockingly told me to remove my hose so she could do my toenails. The bands
around my wrists made that impossible, of course, and I cringed as the girl
touched me and did it herself. I kept my eyes closed, unable to face the
changes being made to me. The worst part was having my eyebrows plucked
into shape. How could I hide that when the "vacation" was over?

"This is a 'light' makeover?" I wondered to Cindy in a safe whisper,
trying to joke. "How long does it take for a complete job?" I really
didn't want to know.

At that moment my wife walked in with a shopping bag. "How are we
coming? Oh, she looks just darling!" she said as she grinned at me. She
then bent over and admired my bright red toenails. Confirming that Debbie
was finished, she rolled my hose part way up and began digging

through a huge shopping bag.

"What are you doing, honey?" I asked in a meek, gender neutral voice.

"Oh, I didn't think that those shoes were flattering enough, so I
dropped into the Wild Pair to find you something prettier. I know you're
just dying to wear them, but with that corset on I don't imagine you can
bend over far enough to strap them on."

That was an understatement! While I'd gotten used to taking shallow
breaths in the corset, there was no way I could bend that far down. I
couldn't see what the shoes looked like from the angle I was sitting in the
chair, but I could tell they had a much higher heel than the other set.

"There!" Cindy announced proudly. "That about finishes you. How are
you coming, Debbie?"

"Just a few minutes to let the last coat dry." After about five very
uncomfortable minutes of listening to girl talk, she said, "That about does
it. Let's stand up and have a look at you."

My wife then removed the velcro straps, freeing me from the chair. I
stood up and almost fell. I looked down at my shoes. They were a pair of
cream ankle straps with at least a five inch heel. I could barely stand in
them. It was amazing what a difference an inch and a half made. I then
looked in the mirror, for the first time, and almost didn't recognize
myself. The person standing there was a short, truly beautiful, entirely
feminine woman staring back at me with wide,

shocked, expertly made up eyes! Her skin looked perfectly smooth and
her lips were strikingly highlighted. I reflexively raised my hands to my
face, not believing what I was seeing, and then noticed my nails. One full
inch long and a deep liquid red - exactly the color of my skillfully
painted lips and toes.

My wife smiled approvingly at me and said, "Don't they look lovely,
Sheila?"

"Y ... Yes," I stammered, too shocked to lie. "They're beautiful. I
can't believe it!"

As she paid Cindy and we turned to go, she said, "By the way, I asked
her to use a permanent set on the nails. You won't be able to remove
them."

I looked down at my hands in shock. How could you hide nails like that?
What would I do at the end of the two weeks? I knew enough about it to
realize that even if I cut them off, they'd be unnaturally thick.

"Let's go, Sheila, we've got plenty still to do. Now it's time for some
clothes shopping. With a gorgeous bod and sexy face like you have, we have
to get you some 'hot' outfits to match."

I slowly emerged from my state of shock, and wished I hadn't. I was
drawing even more attention now. The way men were staring at me left no
doubt as to their thoughts. I stayed as close to Ellen as I could as she
slowly toured store fronts.

Our first stop was "The Body Shop." My wife had me try on countless
outfits in the dressing room. It was sheer torture, climbing into and out
of one revealing outfit after another. I was horrified of being recognized
and arrested for this perversion. She ended up picking out a short black
leather skirt with matching bustier, and a white satin minidress with a
deeply scooped neckline. Then she made me pay for the items with my
American Express Card - with my real name on it! The sales clerk gave me a
shocked look and then a big smirk. My face turned beet red from
embarrassment. My slim hand shook as I tried to grip the pen and sign the
sales slip with my too long nails.

We went from store to store for about two more endless hours. I must
have tried on forty outfits and purchased at least a dozen. My ribs were
killing me from the constant pressure of the corset and my feet ached from
walking and standing in those incredible heels.

"Here we go. One last stop," my wife said as we turned into another
boutique. "Why don't you have a seat for a couple of minutes."

She didn't have to tell me twice. I was exhausted. I sat in the chair
she indicated, relieved to get a load off of my feet. I carefully smoothed
my hemline as I sat down (I'd learned this lesson the hard way through some
embarrassing comments and looks from other shoppers). I was so tired, I
didn't know what store I was in, and really didn't care. I let my eyes
close.

One of the clerks came up behind me and said, "Just sit still now."
There was a sudden, intense burning sensation in my right ear. My eyes
leapt open, and I tried to get up. She held my head firmly with one hand
and said, "Just a few seconds. Hold still." The sharp pain was

repeated in the other ear. She then rubbed both with some alcohol and
fiddled with each ear for a few seconds. "There, that does it. You can
get up now."

I stood up and looked in the mirror. She had pierced my ears and placed
a little gold ball in each of them! What would I do at the at the end of
two weeks? Those holes in my ears were going to take a long time to heal
over.

"Okay, that finishes us here. It's time for us to go home and get ready
to go out tonight."

With that, we walked back towards the car - slowly, because I was f***ed
to take such mincing steps in the tall shoes.

As we got into the car I turned and said, "Honey, this is ridiculous.
Look at my hands! I can't -"

She slapped me hard on the cheek, staggering me. She immediately pulled
out a pair of handcuffs, put them on me, and secured them behind me to the
headrest, making me completely helpless.

"I can see that you need a lesson to show you that I mean business.
When I'm finished with you, you're going to beg me to dress you up, take
you out, and make you look as pretty and sexy as possible! We both know
that you've secretly dreamed about this. Well it's happening and there's
not a damned thing you can do to stop it! The sooner you realize that
you're no longer in control of what happens to you, the happier you'll be!"

"But honey," I whined, "don't you think that this's a little -"

She rammed the gag back in my mouth. "What were you saying dear? I
didn't catch it? Oh well, I guess it wasn't very important."

We pulled away from the mall with me helpless in the passenger seat,
thankful that the tinted windows offered me a little protection from casual
observation.

As I began to look around me I realized that this was not the way home.
Where was she taking me now?

She noticed me squirming and looking around and said, "Don't know where
we're going? Well, as much as you deserve to be humiliated more in public,
that'll have to wait. I just have to pick something up."

My relief quickly turned to chagrin as we stopped and I looked at where
we were. It was a shop entitled "Exotic Leather Goods."

"I need to grab a few things to ensure that you learn your lesson
properly. Don't do anything naughty while I'm gone."

So there I was, tied into the passenger seat for any passers by to see,
trapped in a feminine appearance and clothing with an artificial penis
filling my mouth. Now that we'd stopped, the tinted windows weren't nearly
dark enough.

Suddenly, I saw a man approaching, walking towards the car. He was
casually looking at each of them as he passed by. Would he notice me
through the window? My heart was racing a mile a minute. Just as it
looked as if he would pass right by, he stopped and did a double take. HE
SAW ME! He stood there looking in the window for at least a full minute
with a big grin on his face while I tried to become invisible. Just about
that time my wife came up to the car with a bag in her hand.

"Enjoying the view?" she casually asked the man.

"Sure am, honey," he replied with a leer. "Do you always keep her tied
up like that?" He thought I was a real woman!

"She prefers it that way," my wife laughed. "She's my display model.
Feel free to look all you want, but don't touch."

The man kept up his lewd stare while Ellen loaded her purchases. He
waved gaily, still laughing, as he walked away. With that she got in
started the car. As she drove us home, she said, "I was planning to take
you out for a nice dinner and dancing tonight, but you obviously

don't deserve a reward like that yet. So, instead I'm going to teach
you a lesson in obedience. When I'm through with you, you'll beg me to
dress you up in sexy outfits so you can show off."

b*****r, was I in trouble. I was afraid to even think of what my
"lesson" would be. I was sure that it would not be pleasant, but I knew
there was no way she could make good on her promise that I'd want her to
expose me publicly.

Finally, we pulled into the garage. My wife leaned over and connected
my wrist cuffs to the collar. After that she disconnected my hands from
the headrest, giving me no chance to get free. She then reached into her
big purse, pulled out a leash, and connected it to the collar. Getting her
bag, my wife got out of the car and came around to my door. I still could
not move because I was strapped in by the seat belt. She unhooked it and
gave a tug on the leash.

"Come along now, Sheila," she ordered as we walked into the house. We
stopped in the kitchen.

"The first thing we need to work on is this tendency of yours to talk
back and question everything I say. After all, I can't keep that gag in
your mouth all the time. Unless, of course, you like the feel of something
shaped like a cock in your throat."

I shook my head violently.

"Well then, you need to show me that you can behave. Believe me, I hate
keeping that beautiful mouth of yours gagged all the time. There are so
many better uses for it."

Having said that she pulled what looked like a leather sleeve with some
laces running down the length out of the bag of things she'd just bought.
She then walked out of the room for a few seconds and returned with several
pieces of rope. She unlocked the wrist cuffs and had me

put my hands behind my back. She then secured them with the hands
facing.

Next, she picked up the sleeve and slid it up my arms, securing it with
some straps in front of my shoulder, guaranteeing that it would not come
off. Then she began tightening the laces, straightening my arms and
pulling my elbows together until they were about four inches apart.

It hurt like hell and f***ed me to pull my shoulders back and arch my
back to accommodate the position of my arms. My arms and shoulders began
to ache almost immediately.

"My, aren't you the brazen little slut!" she laughed as she looked at
me. I had to admit that the way my back was arched did throw out my chest,
emphasizing my big breasts. Next, she took a long length of rope, tied it
to a ring on the sleeve below my hands and ran it to a hook in the ceiling.
That ring! She'd had me put that in the ceiling last week to hold a heavy
planter. How long had she been planning this? A tug on the rope brought
me back to the present. As she pulled on the rope, it f***ed me to bend at
the waist while she pulled my arms towards the ceiling. Tying the rope off
onto a doorknob, she commented, "There, that should keep you. Comfy?"

Hardly! I was still in those ridiculous heels and this position f***ed
all of my weight onto my toes, which were already in agony. Adding to
this, the bent over position made the corset so tight that I was gasping
for breath in tiny pants. I felt like I was going to pass out.

The next thing I knew she was pulling my dress up over my waist,
exposing my pantied bottom. Then she pulled the panties down around my
ankles.

"Are you ready for your first punishment?"

I had no way to say no, of course.

She fumbled around in the bag. When I looked, she had pulled out a
leather paddle. There was no doubt what her intended target was. Bound as
I was, there was also not a single thing that I could do about it.

SMACK! She connected right on my bare ass with a stinging blow. "I
think that fifty good ones is about right for talking back to your
mistress, don't you?"

SMACK! She continued. After about twenty, I lost all control and was
crying like a baby. Each stroke seemed to sting more than the one before
it. Finally, she reached fifty. My entire behind felt like it was on
fire. She then pulled the panties up and pulled my hem down again.

"That was just your first punishment. I told you that you would never
forget this lesson. I'll be back in a little while. I'm going to take a
shower and rest a bit. My arms are tired. Don't go anywhere."

Her arms were tired! At my ass and thigh's expense! I stood there,
miserably bent over, dreading the next punishment, and wondering what it
would be.

3. Chapter - Punishment

I'm sure my wife was gone no more than an hour, but it felt like days. I
was trapped there, standing on my cramping toes in those tall high heels,
bent forward at the waist, exposing my swat-inflamed, pink pantied rear
under the hem of my short peach dress. My eyes burned

from sweat and tear-dissolved makeup that'd run into them while she
spanked me with the heavy leather paddle. I could barely breathe because
of the way I was tied and tight corset cinching my waist into nothingness.
There was nothing for me to do but suffer and ruminate on my situation.

I was trapped by more than my agonizing posture. She'd taken pictures
of me and threatened to give them to my boss and secretary if I gave her
any trouble for the next two weeks of my surprise vacation. She'd made me
watch her drop them off at a fifty-minute photo place at the

mall, and I was positive she had the prints hidden somewhere I'd never
find them. All because I'd secretly tried on her panties and a few other
clothes a couple of times! Okay, to tell the truth, it was more than a
couple of times. Now, she was determined to turn me into Sheila, a sexy
little crossdresser who'd beg to be allowed to go out dancing so she could
be seen and admired!

A dizzy wave of pain made me start crying again. I suddenly stiffened.
What if that wasn't all she wanted to make me do? What if she was trying
to do more than show off my cute ass and pouty red mouth? She'd already
called me 'slut' a couple of times. What if she meant it?

I almost fainted. I had to end this before it went any further. She'd
promised me still more punishment, and I didn't think I could take any
more. Maybe, if I acted the way she wanted, she'd relent. More
importantly, if I cooperated, there was sure to be a chance to catch her
off guard and escape before any real damage was done.

By the time I finally heard the door open, I was in such total agony
that thinking of ways to escape my feminization was the last thing on my
mind. I'd have done anything simply to be allowed to stand up straight. I
was dizzy from the unending struggle to breathe. My legs

were cramped into fiery pillars of pain. I tried to sob out around the
penis gag what was supposed to be her name.

"Well, well," she drawled from behind me, "don't you look sexy! How's
that nice little ass feel now, Sheila? Still hot and pink as your
panties?"

I heard her walking across the vinyl floor until she was right behind
me. Between my quivering legs, I saw that she'd changed into some shoes I'd
never seen before. The black high heels must have been six inches tall and
were tipped with narrow metal spikes. Her ankles were

covered in black mesh hose. I jumped when I felt her hand on my ass,
then tried to stand very still for whatever she was going to do. She
petted me between my cheeks.

"Is it too tender, darling? Oh, dear. It's hard to answer me with that
nasty gag in your mouth, isn't it?"

I nodded frantically.

"Will you be a good girl if I take it out?"

I nodded so hard that time that I almost dislocated my shoulders.

I gasped the instant the thing slid out of my dried lips. I wanted to
scream at her to turn me loose. Instead, I croaked out, "Thank you."

"Why you're quite welcome, dear. Would you like to stand up?"

"Please!" My voice shook wildly.

"One little thing, and I'll loosen the rope." I heard her dig through
the bag of things she'd bought and wondered what my next torture was. She
tugged my panties down and ran a finger lubricated with something cold and
slick over my exposed asshole. Then, she eased the finger inside me. It hurt like hell, but what could I do? If I screamed or
protested, she'd do it anyway and leave me tied in this bent forward
position - or something worse. I gritted my teeth and endured as best as I
could.

She wiggled the finger inside me and ran it in and out a couple of
times. Cold sweat again popped out all over me, but there was a strange
heat, also. When she pulled her hand away, I thought she was finished.
Then I felt something cold and hard being pressed into me,

something much fatter than a finger. It spread me so wide I thought I
was going to have to scream, then narrowed, letting my sphincter muscle
clamp around it.

"Very good, honey. In case you're wondering, that's your very own butt
plug. I'm sure it's painful, but you'll get used to it. I expect you to
wear it at all times unless I tell you otherwise. Is that clear?"

I nodded jerkily.

"Say it!"

"Yes," I choked out. "I understand."

When she unhooked the rope from the doorknob and let me stand, I
staggered and almost collapsed. Even the tiny breathing space the tight
corset gave me felt wonderful. I gasped as deep lungfuls of air as I
could. I barely noticed her loosening the long leather sleeve laced up my
arms, locking my elbows together, but I was sure aware of the added freedom
and the lessening torture.

She had to help me to a chair, holding me by my wrists, still cuffed
behind my back. I hissed when I sat, both from tender ass cheeks and the
suddenly more noticeable discomfort of the thing buried in my ass.

Until then, I hadn't looked at her, and what I saw shocked and
frightened me. She looked nothing at all like my wife! She was wearing a
shiny, form-fitting black latex bodysuit that looked

something like wildly cut one piece swimwear. There was a seam down the
middle decorated with silver studs. The outfit made her nipples stand out
and was buried in the valley between her pussy lips. The stiletto heels
made her much taller than I was, even in the five inch heels I wore. Her
eyes were made up in a way that reminded me of Cleopatra, with immense
lashes and eyeliner and silver eye shadow drawn out almost to her temples.
Her lips were a deep, deep red that made

her teeth look too white. "Oh dear, you look terrible! Have you been
ruining your makeup by crying?"

I nodded, shocked by her appearance. I heard myself whine, "It hurt."

"It was supposed to," she said like she was explaining something obvious
to a c***d. "And that was nothing compared to what I'll do if you start
misbehaving again." She tied my bound wrists to the chair and brought me
some water. I sipped thirstily until I noticed how badly I had to pee.
It'd been a long time since I'd used the toilet. And about then the bl**d
flowing through my arms began to tingle, then burn, hurting almost as badly
as being tied had.

"It'll pass," she said with a grin.

"Can I use the bathroom? Please?"

"Soon. But first we've got to get you looking pretty again. Do you
know how much the makeover you ruined cost?"

So she led me back to the bedroom. I couldn't help noticing how the
butt plug made me walk even more enticingly than I had merely in the high
heels. Was there no end to my humiliation? I had to endure another
eternal thirty minutes at her vanity before I was allowed to pee - sitting
down, of course, with my wife standing there impatiently. I couldn't help
but sigh my relief as yet more room was made for me to breathe. As I stood
for her to pull my panties up, I was amazed that I felt almost comfortable
in the corset and heels.

"Such a sexy smile," she observed, tucking my penis back between my
legs. Her fingers lingered there. Her incredibly lush, wet lips hovered
inches from mine, and I felt myself begin to harden in her hand. "Do you
feel good, love?"

"A little," I confessed, reminding myself that I had to go along with
her mad game.

"Don't you feel pretty?"

"Kind of."

"Pretty enough to go out to dinner now?"

I blushed. "I'm awfully tired. Can we do that another time?" My penis
was at full erection by then, and she was showing no sign of stopping.

"But you would if I insisted?"

My hips rocked in time with her caress under my short skirt. "I'd have
to. I know what'd happen if I tried to fight you."

"Oh, no you don't," she whispered into my face. "It'd be a hundred
times worse than you can imagine, Sheila. Trust me on that. You don't
want to ever do anything that'd make me angry. Never again. Understand?"

I nodded, feeling her stroking hand more clearly than I heard her soft
words. The way she was rubbing me through the silky material of the
panties was driving me wild. I parted my lips, leaning forward to kiss
her. She quickly pulled away and squeezed my balls with enough f***e to
make me feel nauseated.

"Ah, ah! None of that, darling. I'll not have you smearing that pretty
lipstick of yours until I tell you to. Is my baby getting all hot? Her
sweet clittie's swollen so big. Would she like me to make her cum?"

"Yes," I whispered. "Please."

"You'd cum in your panties and then sl**p in them?"

"Yes. I don't care. Just -"

"You'd lick and suck my pussy until I told you to stop, and then cum in
them for me?"

Oral sex had always disgusted me. "Yes! Anything you want!"

She dropped her hand and took me back to the bedroom, pushing me to my
knees beside the bed. She quickly opened a velcro closure hidden under the
metal studs of the bodysuit and peeled away a strip of fabric that'd
covered her groin. She straddled my head and sat on the edge of

the mattress. I stared in shock between her legs. She'd shaved her
pussy sometime in the week or more since we'd last made love. Her
pinkish-brown labia shone with moisture.

"Kiss those lips, Sheila. French kiss that mouth, you little slut.
Tongue fuck it like you mean it and maybe I'll let you cum."

I was repelled by the thought, but knew it was my only way to get
gratification, and that resistance would mean real trouble. I made myself
lean forward and hesitantly lap at her.

"No!" she yelled, grabbing me by my wig and slamming my face into her,
humping my nose with her hips. "Do it, you fag slut, or we'll go out and
pick somebody up to fuck YOU!"

I did it with every bit of energy I could summon. Little by little, my
disgust faded. I was turning her on! Her thrusts and approving curses
were heartfelt. I'd never heard her even half so aroused when we made love
normally. My penis strained inside the tight panties as I eagerly

wallowed between her legs, licking and sucking wherever she told me to
and going fast or slow according to her commands.

When she orgasmed, I thought she was going to smother me. She screamed
and her legs clamped around me like steel bands, trapping both my mouth and
nose. Her pussy twitched around my tongue and my nose nuzzled her clit.
Just as I started seeing black dots dancing in front of my eyes, she spread
her legs and I came up gasping for air.

I felt right on the edge of cumming myself. I looked down and saw that
the hem of my hose clad legs were spread wide. My dress had slid up high
enough to show the garters and the panties beneath. My cock was still
almost invisible, pointing toward my butt. It looked like I had a girl's
middle, and I was so turned on I was about to die! I'd never wanted to cum
so bad in my whole life, and I couldn't reach out to jack off. I tried to
pull my legs together, hoping that maybe I could rub my thighs together and
get off that way. It didn't work.

I heard my wife laugh. "Would my horny baby like to cum in her panties
now? Would she like to rub her clit with those sexy hands for me?"

I saw that she was laying back on the bed, staring down at me from
between her legs. She was stroking her clit, just like her words were
describing.

"Would you like me to fix your nasty mouth so you can be pretty for me,
and jack off for me like a dirty little slut?"

"Yes! Oh, god, please!"

When she helped me up, she didn't have to tell me to lay down on the
bed. I did it on my own. She spread my legs and snapped handcuffs attached
to the bedframe around my ankles. Then she freed my hands from behind my
back, clicking the left wrist to the bed over my head. The right one she
set free.

"Now do it slow, Sheila. You can't cum until I tell you to."

I was almost oblivious by then. My hand felt clumsy after being
imprisoned for so long, but it flew straight to my middle. She slapped it
away and pinned my arm under her weight.

"Listen to me, cunt! Unless you do it MY way, you don't get to do it at
all! Now just lay there until I say so!"

I panted while she swayed to the vanity to bring what she needed to
repair my face again. I begged her to hurry. Her hand lightly tickled my
painful balls and I cooperated to the max, holding my mouth open like I was
hungry for the lipstick, turning my head this way and that

so she could powder my cheeks and chin to her satisfaction.

"God, you're a sexy whore, Sheila! Now do exactly as I say. First,
lift your skirt out of the way. Now scratch the length of your clit with
those nasty red fingernails!"

The sc**** of my long nails through the silk almost made me shoot off
right then. I dimly heard the click of the shutter as she took more
pictures, but there was nothing I could do about it. I knew I was angling
my hips up provocatively, but I had to in order to reach myself.

"Feel good, honey? I wish you could see how sexy you are," she cooed.
"Now stick your hand inside the panties and rub it, just a little."

The thrill was electrifying! It took every bit of willpower I owned not
to jerk it just the once it'd take to send me over. But my wife's ominous
warning rang in my ears. I may have whined, but I didn't cum.

"Perfect baby! Now push your panties down under your balls. I want to
see it. I want to watch that pretty hand make you shoot cum up in the air.
NO! NOT YET! I want you to just hold it for a second, just squeeze it.
Feel how good it feels."

I was dying. My ears were ringing and my whole body was stiff. I was
panting like a dog. "Please! Please," I howled.

"Tell me your name, slut! Tell me who you are and I'll let you cum!"

"Sheila," I shrieked. "I'm Sheila!"

"And you just love looking sexy, don't you!"

"Yes! Yes!"

"Beg me to take you dancing tomorrow night!"

"Please take me out! Anywhere you want!"

"Do you want to show off? Do you want to wear that nasty black
minidress and tall heels and bright make up? Show everybody what a hot
little slut you are?"

"Yes! I'll do it!"

"Do you WANT to do it?"

"Yes! Yes! I want to be a slut and let everybody see me!"

"Then cum for me, Sheila! Rub your fat clit and cum!"

The explosion ripped through me like lightning. My first blast of sperm
must have shot two feet in the air. There were many more spurts to follow,
and my flying hand was slick with it long before I was finished. I
collapsed onto the mattress, weak as a baby.

She touched my shrinking penis, and I gasped. It was so sensitive I
couldn't stand it. I heard her low chuckle, but she relented and lifted
her hand. She brushed my lips with her fingers, and I

automatically kissed them, tasting something salty and sticky.

My drowsy eyes sprang open. It was my cum! I jerked my head away.

Her voice was a frightening growl. "Do you really want to make me
angry, Sheila? Do you really want to resist me? Are you ready for a hot,
long dick to slide up your asshole?"

My eyes threatened to overflow. "No," I whispered.

"Then lick every drop of cum from my fingers like a good slut."

More humiliated than I'd been while giving the clerks my charge card, or
even having the man leer at me through the car windows, I did what she
demanded. She scooped every last bit of sperm off my dress and slack penis
and made me swallow it. Finally, after I'd licked my own

hand clean, she was satisfied.

After she'd made me change into a red teddy, she chained me to the foot
of the bed and made me sl**p on a blanket on the floor. She'd loosened my
girdle a little, but made me sl**p in make up and the wig. The butt plug
was still there, too. She fed me a can of diet milkshake and a

tiny salad.

"You need to get used to being this way, Sheila. And this IS the way
you're going to be for the next two weeks. Maybe longer, if you give me
any trouble. I can't wait to get our next photos back. They'll show
anybody who sees them just how much you love living this way."

The renewed threat to give them to my boss cowed me even further. I'd
never been so miserable in my life. She'd reminded me, as she handcuffed
me to the bedframe, of what she'd said earlier.

"I told you, Sheila. I knew you didn't believe me then, but now you
know. I made you beg me to go out and flaunt your slutty body, just like I
said I would."

I cried as quietly as I could in the darkness. Somehow, some way, I HAD
to get out of this!

4. Chapter - Adjustments

I woke up stiff and sore, with the thing in my ass hurting like hell.
That and being on the floor were instant reminders of everything that'd
happened. I tried a deep breath but was stopped by the corset. I had to
sweep the wig's hair out of my mouth. My fingernails startled me so

much that my handcuffs clinked on the bed.

The mattress moved and my wife's sl**py face peered down at me. "Good
morning, Sheila? Did you sl**p okay?"

A bitter retort was on my lips when I saw her face turn hard. I
swallowed my protest. "Um, it was okay."

She looked pleased. "That's the spirit, darling! What a good girl
you're being! Just for that, I'll let you go to the bathroom alone."

I tried to hide the hope surging through me by looking down at the floor
and thanking her. My heart was pounding. She dashed it by holding up a
pair cuffs with a short length of chain between them. She clicked them
around my ankles before unlocking me from the bed, and

made me put on the five inch heels. I had to take short mincing steps.
Even if I could get away from her, where could I go in a corset and teddy
with shackles on my legs? Seeing my dismay, she laughed heartily as I
walked delicately from the room.

I hated seeing myself in the mirror. There was still sl**p worn
lipstick on my mouth, eyeliner around my eyes, and flakes of mascara all
over my cheeks. The brown wig was a tangled mop. Under the teddy I was as
hairless as my wife, and the corset showing through the lacy lingerie
showed a shape as nice as hers, too. I could barely see a man beneath all
that. The haggard woman in the mirror looked familiar, like my twin s****r
might have if I had one.

I felt foolish standing to pee, having to hold the red teddy out of the
way, but I was damned if I'd squat unless I had to. The long red
fingernails embarrassed me as they touched my heavy morning cock. I had to
look away as I did my business.

I tried to think. I could take a razor out with me to use as a weapon -
but they were all the disposable kind and wouldn't work. Not that I could
really hurt her, not even for this. But maybe I could convince her I meant
business. To my dismay, there were no scissors, no nothing. Every
conceivable weapon had been taken away. I almost cried in frustration, and
managed not to only by reminding myself how feminine a reaction that'd be.

I pulled myself together. There'd be another time, other chances, if I
played my cards right. Hating what I had to do, I tugged a brush through
the wig and rinsed my face and mouth. I tried a practice smile, but it was
too scary. I had to stay away from mirrors.

She arched an eyebrow when I traipsed back out with as much enthusiasm
as I could find. "Why you little darling! You cleaned up for me!"

"Would you like me to bring you coffee in bed?" I asked her remembering
to speak softly in as feminine a voice as I could muster.

"What? And leave you in the kitchen with all those sharp things?
Honey, you might hurt yourself."

Obviously, she knew I'd try something and wasn't going to give me the
opening I needed. I choked back a burst of rage. "I'd be very careful."

"I'm sure you would, darling. But not this time. Sit down there and
get started on your face, my little cum lover. I'll make the coffee."

She cuffed my legs to the back legs of the vanity's chair and roped my
chest tightly to the back. I might be able to reach the knot, I thought.

"Now do a good job, honey. I want you to look pretty. Remember, we've
got an appointment to get your hair done this afternoon."

"But I can't!" I protested. "I don't know how!"

"Come darling," she warned as she turned away. "You've watched me
hundreds of time, and Cindy and I showed you exactly how it needs to be
done. Do it and do it right, or else!"

The moment she was out of sight, I tried the knot. It was tight, and I
could get no leverage because of the angle of my wrists. I fumbled with it
anyway, desperately, but to no avail. Again tears threatened me. This
time I couldn't hold them off. Once I started, I couldn't stop.

I'd never felt anything like that in my life. I was terrified and
helpless. She was outsmarting me at every turn. I was horrified - she was
winning! She WAS going to be able to make me do whatever she demanded, no
matter how sick or twisted. I was never going to be able to resist her. I
was still crying when she came back fifteen minutes later. Her deep scowl
made me try harder to dam the flood.

"You haven't even started!" she accused angrily.

"I ... I ..." I stammered hopelessly.

"You worthless little bitch! That does it!" She stormed toward me.
There was no way to flee from her. I covered my face with my arms and
sobbed anew. But she didn't go for my face. Her slap landed squarely
between my legs. I doubled up with a sick groan. She wrenched one arm

behind my back and twisted. A cold cuff went around my wrist.

"Give me the other arm!"

I did.

"Why you thankless bitch! You broke a nail messing with that knot,
trying to get away! Oh, you'll pay for that, too!" She jerked me to my
feet by my arms, causing me to yell in pain. She dragged me into the
bathroom and pushed me into the tub, still wearing what I'd slept in. She
jerked off my high heels, then turned the water on, adjusting it until it
was almost scalding hot. I was too afraid to protest. At least I'd quit
crying. She quickly reattached the handcuffs around a

very solid towel rack. With a sinking heart, I remembered I'd installed
it for her three weeks ago. More evidence that she'd been planning this
for a very long time!

To the burning water, she added fragrant bath salts and oils. She
reached under me and with a cruel jerk, removed the plug that almost felt
like part of my ass.

"You've earned the next larger size, cunt. We've got to get you
loosened up and ready for a big fat real cock, don't we? After all, we
don't want it to hurt you so much you can't enjoy the way it's going slide
in and out of you."

That was more than enough to make me sob all over again. "Please," I
begged her softly, "Not that. Anything but that."

"Anything, Sheila? You mean that anything's better than having a man
lift your sexy legs over his shoulders and spread those cute buns under
your dress and hammer you with his cock?"

"Yes!" I wailed hysterically. "Anything!"

"Oh, baby," she laughed, "I'm going to make you remember what you just
said. When you're crying this hard, begging me to let you have a cock up
your ass, I'll remind you. And you will, you know. Just like you did last
night."

With the steaming tub filled to the rim, she left me to soak and think.
Horrible scenarios ran through my mind, but none were anywhere near as bad
as what she'd said. What could be worse than having another man do that to
me? The whole thing was a nightmare, but that ...

The water was almost cool by the time she returned, and I was having
trouble. It was like the butt plug had already loosened my asshole, and I
was sweating as I tried to keep my bowels from emptying in the bathwater.

"Toilet!" I begged the instant the door opened.

"Oh, my! Do we have a problem, darling?" I barely noticed that she was
in makeup as wild as the night before and wearing an ebony minidress that
looked as wet and skin tight as her bodysuit had.

"I need to shit! Please!"

She giggled merrily. "We can't have that, can we? You'd have to walk
around all day smelling of your own shit!" She put a theatrically
thoughtful red nail before her thick scarlet lips. "Now let me see. What
did I do with those keys?"

I realized as she turned away that she wasn't coming back. I knew the
keys were just outside the door on an end table. And she didn't return
until she heard the forlorn wail I made fifteen minutes later as my
stretched sphincter finally released. I was straining to keep as much

of my body out of the filth as I could and crying like a lost toddler.

She clucked her tongue at me and looked disgusted. "Well, Sheila.
That's your third fuck up already, and you've only been awake an hour.
What am I going to do with you? I'm only going to be able to have you
fucked by a few men before it's more reward than punishment."

"I'm sorry! I'll behave! I swear to God I will. Please, Ellen, give
me one more chance!" I knew she was maneuvering me, but it was all I could
do.

She walked up to the side of the tub, petted my damp wig with her hand.
I looked up, pleading with my eyes. I could see right up her skirt, see
that she wasn't wearing any panties, just garters to hold up her seamed
hose. Her naked pussy pouted down at me. I remembered how it tasted. Her
searing red mouth smiled. "Anything, darling. That's what you said.
Remember? Now take a deep breath and relax."

With that, she unlocked my hands. I knew what was coming. Nausea
welled up in me as she pushed my head under the water I'd soiled. At least
she let me shower and scrub myself clean, even though I didn't feel that
way. It didn't feel like I'd ever be able to get clean. I hated her for
what she'd done - all of it, not just in the bathtub. But it was a strange
hatred, more fear than anger, if that makes sense. It didn't to me. I was
more and more convinced that I wasn't going to be able to escape her - ever. My self-confidence had been eaten away
over the past day until I doubted everything except her cunning.

Somehow, being naked was even worse than wearing the corset and teddy
had been. My hairlessness seemed all the reminder I needed. I wrapped a
towel around me to hide as much of myself as I could while I shaved my
light beard as smooth as was humanly possible. I knew the towel was a
feminine gesture, but I couldn't stand seeing myself that way.

When I finally minced out of the bathroom in my shackles, holding my
shampooed wig in my hand, she acted like nothing had ever happened. She
was chatty, in a kind of girl to girl way. She'd loaded a tray with fresh
fruit and coffee. My mouth watered as I ate my share and tried to make
light conversation. She was critical of my voice, but not in a vicious
way. As she cleared the scant meal, she told me to do my makeup like a good
girl.

I promptly tried to imitate what had been done to me several times the
day before. I'd been paying no attention, and was finding the task
overwhelming. I swallowed my fear and meekly asked for her help. I
watched her expressionless face as she approached, fearful of her
wrath, but her smile made me try to, also.

"Of course, my love. I'm so happy you asked." She pressed her soft
breasts against the back of my head as she hugged me. "I'd love to help
make you beautiful. But," she warned tenderly, "you must learn to do it
for yourself, or I'll be upset."

"I will," I vowed, relishing the feel of her chest wrapping around me.
"Uh, by the way, I think you're beautiful today." It was the most truthful
thing I'd said all day.

"Um," she purred, sliding her hands down my smooth chest, playing with
my nipples, rubbing her breasts more firmly against me. "Thank you, lover.
I knew you'd like it as much as I do."

She let her hands slide lower still, grasped my growing member in a
gentle hand. "God, you make me so hot," she whispered, staring at me via
the mirror. "You've done your lips even better than I did. Such a sweet
red pout - but you should never start with lipstick, baby. Oohh.

My cunt's dripping, thinking about how good they'd feel kissing it like
you did last night. You gave me the best orgasm I've ever had, Sheila. I
want to sixty-nine with you, lick your clit until we both cum."

"I want that, too," I panted hotly, imagining my cock in that sweltering
red mouth. I spoke what I hoped she wanted to hear. "Let me lick you
again. Let me fuck you with my tongue."

She kept me stone hard and sweaty until she'd coached me through the
whole makeover. Then she f***ed me into a second corset, this one red, and
let me play with myself and her heavy breasts as she stretched the laces
tighter and tighter. She warned me over and over not to cum

until she gave me permission. I had to put the breast forms in myself.
Satisfied, she pushed me to the carpet and straddled my face.

"Eat me, whore," was her final command before lowering her head toward
my big, raging clit.

It didn't take either one of us long. I couldn't wait for her to tell
me to let go. She started writhing on my face as her orgasm hit her, and
mine erupted wildly moments later. She didn't seem to mind, as she moaned
loudly, despite her mouthful, and sucked mightily. I was still lazily
licking her when she lifted herself off me and turned around. She brought
her smeared red lips down to mine and kissed me hungrily. She f***ed her
tongue into my mouth, then pushed

the glob of cum she'd saved into the back of my mouth. I tried to pull
away, but there was nowhere to go. She clamped one hand over my lips and
massaged my throat until I swallowed repeatedly, my eyes filled with tears
of humiliation.

"There. Was that so bad, Sheila? Because you're being so cooperative,
I'll overlook the fact that I didn't give you permission to cum. See? I'm
not unreasonable. If you continue to behave, we can both enjoy ourselves.
But the moment you rebel, I'm the only one who'll enjoy myself. Now be a
doll and take your vitamin before you fix your face."

The way she said it made me suspicious. I looked at the big pill when I
rolled it into my palm.

Her laughter made me turn my head after I'd swallowed it. "You're
right, dear. That's a very special vitamin. You've been taking a huge
dose of female hormones for over a month now. Haven't you noticed how
smooth your skin is getting? Soon, you'll be growing your very own

breasts!"

I stared at her in utter horror, more sick to my stomach than bathing in
my shit had made me.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I cried.

She encircled my waist from behind, trapping my arms within hers.
"Because it's what we both want, darling. Don't you see? You need this as
much as I do." Her voice turned stern and cold. "If you ruin your makeup
by crying, I'll make you regret it."

It took superhuman effort to stifle the tears. I wondered, in my panic,
if the daily overdose of hormones was what was making me so emotional. I
tried to pay attention to the cosmetics as I prepared my face to go back to
the mall. I didn't care how I looked - but Ellen did, and pleasing her was
something I HAD to do.

Dressed in a skimpy gold dress and strapped into yet another pair of
five inch heels, with the promised larger butt plug trapped between my ass
cheeks and my wig pinned to my scalp, she led me back to the garage. I was
somewhat shocked that she didn't use the handcuffs. I guess she figured
the leather collar and leg irons and my full blown feminine look was enough
incentive to behave. She was right, too.

5. Chapter- Defining Sheila

It was ten times worse than the day before. Ellen's almost obscene
black dress and lewd makeup attracted the attention of everyone we
encountered as we traipsed through the mall. While all their eyes locked
on her first, they took me in also. She warned me, after we'd gone a
little way, to stand tall and act proud of my beauty, or else. The shop
windows showed me how I looked, with my big breast forms and tiny waist and
full hips revealed by the clinging gold dress. I couldn't ignore how
enticing my widely swaying ass looked. I felt like a beacon, like people
could see me from miles away. She'd deliberately parked as far from the
beauty salon as possible, exposing us to the blatant stares of hundreds of
people as we traversed the full length of the shopping center. I felt
every lusty look like it was actually touching me.

By the time we finally got to the salon, I was horribly confused. While
I was ashamed to death of being publicly exposed like that, I was also a
little breathless with excitement. It wasn't really sexual. My cock
wasn't rock hard, for which I was immensely thankful. It was more like I
was doing something dangerous, something illicit, that charged me with
adrenaline. I was fooling everyone! They were staring at me as hard as
they could, and had no idea!

The way Ellen looked at me when we turned into the beauty shop told me
she knew what I was feeling. Her smile mocked my pleasure, said, "I told
you so," without her having to say a word.

Cindy and my wife again led me to the back room. I was grateful to be
out of sight and tried to relax. After my period of freedom, I was
dismayed when Ellen again used the velcro straps on my wrists.

"You know what to do," she told Cindy. "And while you're at it, she
broke a fingernail this morning that needs to be fixed."

"No problem," the stylist smirked. "I've been thinking. If you'd like,
I could wax her legs and chest and I think I can do better with her face,
too."

"Great idea! Do whatever you think the little bitch needs. I'll be
back in an hour or so." She turned her wet red lips up and smiled at me.
"Be a good girl, Sheila. I think Cindy likes you, so be very nice and
don't give her any trouble."

I nodded meekly, tried to smile back, and used the tips she'd given me
on speaking right. "Have fun shopping."

As soon as she was out of sight, Cindy started acting different. "Okay,
Sheila, we're going to have a lot of fun today. You're not going to
believe how hot you're going to look before I'm through with you."

She removed my wig, which was embarrassing. Anybody who walked in would
recognize me for what I was. I was expecting her to style it or something.
Instead, she threw it carelessly on the counter and picked up a pair of
shears. When she started cutting away all my hair, I froze. She didn't
stop until my hair was an eighth of an inch long all over! Then, to my
horror, she picked up a straight razor and ran it ominously over a strop,
smiling wickedly at me all the while.

I sat rigidly, gripping the armrest as tightly as I could, while she
applied shaving cream to my scalp and shaved me completely bald! I was
whimpering, doing everything possible not to cry at my humiliation.

"Now look in the mirror, Sheila!" It was a command at least as intense
as any Ellen gave me. I obeyed, fearing the consequences, and was
astonished by what I saw.

It wasn't a bald man sitting there, but a lovely, delicately featured
young woman with a scalp as slick as a cue ball! I tried as hard as I
could to see myself under the clothes and cosmetics, and couldn't! The
dangling earrings, arched eyebrows and bowed, trembling red lips weren't
mine! The heaving double swell of my chest looked like it belonged there!
The shapely hose covered legs and towering high heels were someone else's!
I had vanished as thoroughly as if I'd never

existed!

"Now for the good part," Cindy said. She lifted another wig, long,
platinum blonde and obviously very, very expensive, from a box. She showed
me a peculiar smooth liner on the underside instead of the weave like on
the other one. "What happens is that I apply a nice smooth

coat of a special epoxy to your scalp and the wig, then ..."

She let her words trail off. I completed the sentence for her in my
mind. It'd become permanent. Maybe, in a month or so, as my hair grew
out, it'd loosen. Until it did, the silver blonde hair would cascade over
my shoulders and reach part way down my back. It finally

penetrated that my two week vacation "cruise" wasn't going to end that
soon, no matter how well I behaved.

I gave in to my tears while Cindy smeared the smelly paste all over my
scalp and I openly sobbed when she carefully fitted the wig to my head,
jerking it firmly into place. She wore an expression of triumph.

"Jesus," she sneered, "what a pussy you are! It's no wonder your wife
treats you this way. It's exactly what a wimpy little fag like you
deserves! Now I'm going to take these straps off and get you out of that
corset long enough to make sure there's not a single bit of stubble
anywhere on you. Give me any shit, and I'll invite every woman in the shop
to come back and laugh at your naked body!"

Taking all my clothes off was even worse than wearing them. I felt like
I wasn't a man anymore, and she destroyed the illusion that I was a woman,
too. She laughed at the plug closing my ass as she smeared a burning,
stinking chemical all over me, even on my face, cock and

balls, and made me endure the torture of the depilatory far longer than
was necessary. I was afraid it was going to burn my penis and balls right
off. She pushed me into a shower and made me rinse it all off and use a
heavily perfumed soap and then fragrant body powder. I noticed how smooth
and soft I was all over. I guessed the hormones were working, like Ellen
had said.

She laced me back into the red corset even tighter than my wife had, but
had added some padding to the hip area while I showered. When she stepped
back to admire her work, I had even more of an hourglass figure than
before. She made me sit in the chair, with nothing to cover my

dangling, shriveled genitals, while the other girl, Debbie, redid all my
nails, not just the one I'd cracked, and made them even longer and redder.
The way she smirked from time to time at my groin made me wish my sex
organs would crawl up inside me.

Cindy, meanwhile, was styling my new hair and redoing my face, using a
different colored foundation, lots of bright blush, and making my eyes and
lips look as slutty as Ellen's did. I really and truly looked like a cheap
whore with useless male organs where a wet pussy should have been.

That's the way my wife found me on her return. Her eyes widened with
surprise, then her lush lips smiled. "Good lord, Cindy! You're a genius!"

"You've got one hot little slut here!" the stylist laughed.
"Thirty-seven, twenty-two, thirty-five unless I'm blind. That gold dress
is going to be stretched even tighter over her mean little ass. Too bad
she's got such a pot belly under that corset. Get her to lose fifteen
pounds and she'd be a real knockout - if she didn't have that ugly thing
between her legs."

"Twenty pounds is more like it," my wife said. She patted my wrist. "I
know she can do it. She may not show it, but she loves what you've done
for her, don't you darling?"

When I meekly nodded, her hand tightened on my arm. Before she could
reprimand me for not answering aloud, I did. "Yes. It's lovely. Thank
you, Cindy."

They both laughed at my spinelessness. Cindy added, a little
hesitantly, "I, uh, came across something else I think she might like. If
you don't mind, Ellen, I'd like to give her a present."

Ellen looked touched. "Cindy! That's so sweet! Of course you may!" I
was instantly filled with fear.

The stylist opened a drawer in her cabinet and brought out a gaily
wrapped package with "To Sheila," written on the tag and handed it to me.
The paper read "Happy Birthday," all over. I blushed furiously.

"Well open it, silly girl!" my wife urged.

I did, fumbling, unable to use my hands as I always had due to the
absurd length of my hooked nails. I discovered I could use them as tools,
sliding them along, slitting the paper like a letter opener. Inside the
box was a bizarre flesh toned elastic device something like both a g-string
and a pouchless jock strap. When I figured out its function, my blush went
even deeper.

"A retainer!" Ellen said appeciatively. "Oh, Sheila, put it on for us!"
She ripped off the velcro bands, freeing my arms.

I bent forward as far as I could, exhaled every bit of air in my lungs,
but the corset wouldn't let me come close to reaching my ankles, even when
I lifted one foot. "Will you help me?"

"Of course, darling! Here!" I delicately lifted each foot as she
slipped it over my ankles, but she stopped when she'd lifted it to a height
I'd shown I could reach. I had to do the rest.

It was humiliating to have to detach my hose from the garters, elevate
my hips, and work the thing into place. Worst of all was reaching inside
it and arranging my penis and balls so that they flattened into absolute
invisibility. Ellen again helped me with my tiny bikini panties. When all
was done, I had a perfectly smooth middle. Even the retainer's tough
elastic string dug so deeply into my flesh that it left no line.

For all visible purposes, I had been turned into a complete woman, even
if they peeked up my dress. No one who saw me would ever doubt my
femininity now. The leather collar covered the lump of my larynx. My
knees weren't even knobby. I felt positive that I would "pass" wherever I
went. But that was only part of it.

My own senses reported no masculinity left in me. My shimmering hair -
the only hair I had other than my carefully shaped eyebrows - had tickled
my cleavage as I bent forward, swung with my every move. Dangling from my
ears were long gold earrings that chimed softly when I moved my head. I
had learned to look out at the world through long black lashes thick with
mascara, day and night. When I looked at my chest, even without breast
forms, I saw how much the corset lifted and shaped my very own flesh into
small pink bosoms - and Ellen assured me that, due to the hormones, they
were growing. Now even my panties were flat and smooth. My every word was
shaped by lips that dripped with deep red color. My fluttering hands were
branded, changed by long scarlet commas. My ass was perpetually violated
by a fake penis I'd gotten used to feeling rub my insides as I walked.
Even without high heels, my hips rolled and swayed.

My emotions weren't even my own. Maybe it was the hormones, maybe it
was something else, but the bottom line was that I cried every time I
became afraid. I felt that EVERY emotion I felt was visible. Ellen had
easily seen through my sly efforts to try to escape from her control. And,
while I hate admitting it, she'd also read, without even trying, how
pleased I was by what Cindy had done to me. I DID like it. I WAS
grateful. And the clearly visible rush of joy that made them

laugh was making me sick.

While they chatted about this and that, I paid no attention. I was
trying to name a new emotion growing in me. I hated myself for what I was
feeling. It made me feel like maybe I was exactly what Cindy had called me
- a pussy, a wimpy little fag. That was the only kind of man

I could think of who'd be so proud of his completely feminized
appearance as I was.

As Ellen turned to me and asked me a question, I was jerked back from my
sad musing. "I'm sorry," I had to confess, despite the danger, "I didn't
hear ..."

Cindy laughed throatily. "Little cunt was so busy admiring herself she
wasn't listening."

My wife's look was stern, and her eyes shone maliciously. "I asked you
if you'd like to thank Cindy for her birthday gift."

"Yes. Of course. Thank you, Cindy. It's -"

"Not that way," Ellen interrupted harshly.

I was befuddled. Cindy took my hand, helped me stand, led me back to
the bathroom. I had no idea what was happening, but I was sure I wasn't
going to like it. She locked the door and leaned against the lavatory.
"You really didn't hear, did you?"

"Uh, no. I'm sorry. I -"

"Ellen was telling me what a great pussy eater you are, how you make her
cum like she's never cum before."

I paled, felt dizzy, sick. Unable to speak, I watched her hands slowly
lift her skirt, inch at a time.

"You know what to do, Sheila. Don't make me use f***e."

I stared at her exposed panties. They were a pale blue. Their crotch
was moist, dark. One hand released her hem. I felt the weight of it
transerred to my shoulder. I sank to my knees. What else could I do?

She made me do it all. I watched my woman's hands tenderly lower her
panties, revealing her moist cunt, its lips shaven, but with a cloud of
brown curls left above the hooded clitoris. I touched, stroked it, finger
fucked it, careful of my nails, exactly as she told me to. I kissed it and
licked it and inserted my tongue in her cavity to her gasped
specifications. She didn't taste quite like Ellen did. Less fishy, more
fragrant. Better, really. Her hands were rough in my hair though. The
sharp pain in my scalp was almost exactly as if my hair was real, not like
the wig had been.

When she came with a muffled shriek, I hungrily licked her clean. My
penis throbbed in my new restraint, filling it with cum. I hadn't even
touched it. My lust had betrayed me. Even after her hands left my hair, I
stayed there, kissing away the dregs of her passion, increasingly aware of
how I'd left my lipstick all over her, how proud of myself I was for
returning her gift in the only way I could.

"You ARE good, Sheila," she purred, no laughter left in her tone.

"Thank you. You taste so good, Cindy." I kissed her reddened clitoris
one last time. Was it really me admitting that, meaning that? It must be.

She helped me to my feet, more tender than she'd ever been. She
gathered me in for a soft kiss, and I offered no resistance, automatically
parted my lips for her tongue. "Next time, I'll give you another present
and maybe I'll taste you. Would you like that?"

"If you want to. If it's okay with Ellen," I stammered. My eyes were
on my face in the mirror as she hugged me. My cheeks were wet with her
fluids. My lips were smeared. When I licked them, I tasted the candy of
my lipstick and the richness of her cum. I'd made her do that, given her
so much pleasure that she'd shouted it aloud.

"You didn't answer me, slut. Would you LIKE that?"

"Yes, Cindy. Very much. I ... I came, too." I watched the honesty
made my face red.

She pushed me to arms length, her eyes twinkling merrily. "You did?
Show me!"

My regret was instantaneous. I stuttered, looking for a way out. Her
expression turned stony. "Show me, whore! Show me the mess you made in
the present I gave you!"

Batting back tears of shame, I wiggled my panties down, then the heavy
elastic, sticky with spewed sperm. My cock hung, tiny and wrinkled and
ugly, shiny with thick spunk.

Cindy's laughter was like tinking bells. "What does Ellen make you do
when you cum? Does she punish you?"

I could lie, I thought. Maybe she wouldn't tell my wife. But if she
did? And, did I really WANT to lie? "She ... she makes me eat it."

"Well? What are you waiting for?"

I was ready for it that time. I knew the taste and texture. I sc****d
up what I could. She made me unhook my hose and remove the device and lick
it clean. Her eyes glittered the whole time. Her breath was quick again.
I could see her nipples through her dress. This was giving her pleasure,
too. I made a small, shy show of the process, trying to look like I
enjoyed what I was doing. Didn't I, at least a little? Wasn't this a
vital part of what'd been done to me? Didn't it

earn me favor, freedom? Such a small price to pay.

"May I put it back on now, Cindy?" I'd seen how my penis was growing. I
wanted to hide it.

"No. Let's show Ellen what a good bitch you've been."

I hung my head and she led me out, panties dangling from one hand,
retainer from the other. Her voice was thick while she related every
detail to my wife. I hazarded a glance at Ellen from beneath the shield
locks of my tangled hair, and quailed inside.

She wasn't pleased by my actions. She was shocked, maybe even dismayed,
and trying not to show it. I felt my lower lip begin to tremble as my eyes
filled with fearful tears. I'd been so sure I was doing the right thing!

The next time I glanced up, her face was a blank mask, and her eyes were
on me, not Cindy, whose voice was but a dim echo. She read my confusion
like I was an open book. I guess I was. I couldn't look away. She
deliberately reached into her purse and came up with a package of
cigarettes and a lighter. My shock deepened. She abhorred everything
about tobacco, yet she tapped out a cigarette and lit it and inhaled as if
she'd been doing it for years. I was like a rodent

hypnotized by a snake, staring vacantly at how her bright lips stained
the white filter, then pursed as if she was kissing the grey plume she
exhaled.

Cindy's tale ended and my wife's eyes dismissed me. She smiled tightly,
but Cindy missed the tension in it. "Very good, Sheila. You're turning
into the perfect little slut, aren't you?"

She was waiting. I didn't know what to say. "I ... I guess so. I'm
sorry if -"

"There's nothing to be sorry about, darling. Nothing at all. But we
have to hurry. There's so much to do before we go out tonight. Go back in
there and get dressed. Fix your makeup."

Ellen paid Cindy while I quickly wiggled into my undergarments, repaired
my lipstick and powdered my face. The stylist refused a tip. "Sheila's
already given me one," she laughed. "Bring her back next week if you'd
like to begin electrolysis on her face."

I followed numbly. Electrolysis to remove my thin facial hair? I
didn't even worry about it. All my worries were focused on my wife. She
marched quickly along, forcing me to have to hurry to keep up. I felt
awkward, stumbling along as best I could in the five inch heels, and knew I
was making a fool of myself. She was angry what I'd done. Very angry.
I'd be punished horribly for some transgression, and I wasn't even sure
what it was. Because I'd had an orgasm as I ate

Cindy? That must be it.

She didn't slow her pace, and I fell farther and farther behind.
Everyone was looking at us - the striking brunette in the clinging black
lycra dress, and the slutty, clumsy platinum blonde. After a

while, I realized no one could tell I was following her. We didn't look
like we were together.

A surge of panic made me bite my lower lip to stifle a shout. Was she
going to abandon me here? Was she deliberately going to f***e me to get
home however I could? My pace faltered, throwing me even further behind.
What was I going to do? I had no money, no identification nothing! My
legs refused to carry me another step. I was frozen, in the middle of a
throng of shoppers. A man bumped into me and I nearly leapt out of my
skin.

He stopped. "You okay lady?" His eyes touched me, raked me.

I bolted. I couldn't stand how close he was, what his eyes were doing.
I pursued my wife, not caring how it looked. I felt like my very life
depended on catching her before she reached the car. To my utter horror, I
couldn't see her. Even in five inch heels, everyone was taller than I was.
The crowd had closed around her, as if it was trying to hide her. I
hesitated, turning hopelessly this way and that, at the juncture of two
wings of the mall, having no idea which direction she'd gone. I was too
scared to even remember where the car was. I'd never felt so utterly lost
and alone, even as a c***d. How could she hate me so much that she'd do
this to me?

I was positive my immobility was again drawing more attention to my face
and body. I knew I looked like I was advertising, asking for exactly the
kind of looks I was being given. There was nothing exciting about it now.
My wife had buffered me from it, made me safe. Now, I was totally
vulnerable, exposed even more than I had been when Cindy stripped me nude
in the salon.

Terror became dread certainty. Something horrible was going to happen.

"Scared, cunt?" came a sibilant whisper in my ear.

I whirled to her, my nightmare ended. "Oh, Ellen! Where were you?"

"You're crying. Stop it this instant." She handed me a tissue. She was
still angry, but there was compassion, too.

I hadn't even been aware of my tears, and was ashamed. "I'm sorry." I
blotted my eyes like she'd taught me. "I guess I was making a fool of
myself again. Did I mess up my eyes?"

"Not too badly. Come on. I need a drink."

This time, her pace was moderate, but her low grade anger made me hold
back a step. I was desperate to please her, to make amends for whatever
I'd done wrong. I reminded myself to stand tall, act proud, do everything
she'd told me to do. It didn't fully register that we were going to a bar
until she crossed the flow of traffic and led me into a dim, hushed space
that smelled of smoke and liquor. It was barely three in the afternoon,
and the place was anything but crowded.

My wife occupied one half of an isolated booth. I took the other side.

She silently stared at me until I dropped my eyes. The tension was so
thick I could taste its bitterness on my tongue. Urgency built within me
to end it, but my jaw seemed locked closed. My mind spun madly, looking
for the right thing to do, to say. A waitress appeared. Ellen

ordered a pair of stingers in somber tones. I thought she was digging
through her handbag for makeup so I could make repairs, but she extracted
another cigarette instead. The lighter added light to her face for a
moment.

"What? You disapprove of me smoking?"

"It's just a shock is all. It looks so ... like you've been doing it
for a long time."

She exhaled with what seemed relief. "What if I told you I started oh,
say, six months ago? What if I said that, since you weren't paying any
attention to me, I bought this dress and started going out?"

My mouth hung open foolishly. "You did? Oh, God, Ellen!" Pictures
flickered through my mind. Ellen, painted and needy, sitting in places
like this looking for men.

"I didn't say that's what happened. I said 'what if.' How would that
make you feel?"

"Sick, I guess. And sorry I was so blind. Is there anything I can do
-"

Her laugh was harsh. "You keep assuming that's what happened, you
stupid bitch. If you knew I'd been fucking other men - excuse me, men
period - would you feel betrayed? Jealous?"

"Of course! I love you, Ellen. I'd do anything to -"

The waitress delivered the drinks, reducing us to silence again. It was
even worse than before. It was like she'd fed me a slow poison. I felt it
eating at my guts. Doubt assailed me. Surely I'd have known. I'd have
smelled the smoke clinging to her flesh and clothes. I'd have been able to
tell if another cock had been inside her, if her lips had been passionately
locked to another mouth.

"'Anything,'" she mocked me, easily taking more smoke. "There's that
word again, Sheila. Every time you use it, you make me want to test you,
to push you, to see if you really mean it."

I squirmed.

"Drink up," she ordered, not touching hers, but waiting for me to sip
from my glass. Neither of us were big fans of hard liquor. Instantly, I
felt the small taste. Its warmth expanding outward from my empty stomach.
It'd been two days since I'd had a decent meal, and I knew the drink was
going to hit me like an avalanche. I wanted to ask her for a sandwich of
something. I held my tongue.

"You still don't get it, do you?"

"I ... I think so. You're saying that what I ... what happened with
Cindy made you feel ... uh, betrayed."

She leaned back. Her bl**d red smile was sharp as a knife. "I warned
you. Remember? 'If you act like a slut, I'll have to treat you like one.'
I think those were my exact words."

"But I was just doing what you ordered me to do!"

"Did I tell you to cum? Did I tell you to like it? Did I tell you to
lick up your cum, or kiss her, or promise to let her suck you off the next
time she gives you a present?"

"No." I stared at my woman's hands wrapped around the drink, the rim
marked by my woman's lips.

She leaned forward. Her breasts touched the table. I could see down
almost to her nipples. "What do you call someone who gives sex in return
for gifts?"

My heart shriveled. "But you told me to thank her that way! I -"

"I didn't say a fucking thing about 'next time,' did I? Answer me!
What kind of woman does what you did?"

She was right. What'd I'd done - almost all of it - wasn't really
because she made me do it. I'd WANTED to. I felt the weight of the words
fill my mouth, overflow my lips. "A whore," I barely whispered.

"I didn't hear you."

I repeated it for her. "A whore. I acted like a whore."

"Is that what you are, Sheila?"

"No! I'm sorry, Ellen. I was wrong. I did a terrible thing. It'll
never happen again. I promise."

"Un huh. And I'm supposed to forgive you. Just like that?"

I swallowed. "I, uh ... I guess I should be punished."

"Are you asking me to punish you?"

I finally managed to meet her steely gaze. "I want you to do whatever
you need to do. I need you, Ellen. I love you more than anything. If you
have to hurt me to forgive me, I'll take it." I was whining, begging. I
meant it with my entire being. "When I thought you'd abandoned me here, I
saw how much I need you. I can't stand the thought of ever being without
you. I think I'd die without you. You've ... I'm different now. I'm
scared all the time. The only time I feel good is when I'm doing what you
want."

I watched her anger evaporate, saw the real love in her eyes. "Do you
really mean that, honey?"

I was thrilled! "Oh, god, yes!"

"And you'll willingly prove it to me?"

I hesitated before I said the next word. I needed to be sure I meant
it, she said. "Anything."

Her smile was a ray of brilliance. Her hand covered mine, squeezed.
"You are a treasure, my love. I adore you. I realized something myself.
What you did with Cindy made me admit to myself how much I need you, too.
Now finish your drink."

I swallowed it with unladylike gulps, then gasped for breath. We both
laughed.

I shook my head at the instantaneous blast of dizziness, felt my hair
tickle my shoulders. "Whoo! That's more than I've had to drink in years."

"Since our wedding," she grinned, then pushed the second glass toward
me.

"You want me to drink this one, too?"

"Un huh. In time. But first let's go freshen up. I love what Cindy's
done to your face, don't you?"

I babbled affirmatives to her questions as we wound our way to the
ladies' room. It was weird going in there, but the thrill of illicitness
was back. I'd always wondered what those forbidden doors hid. I whispered
how much fun it was to fool everyone, to take little risks like this and
almost dare people to challenge me.

"I know exactly what you mean," she laughed gaily, but softly. "I feel
the same way wearing these clothes and using so much makeup. That's why I
smoke, too. It's part of the disguise. Want to try it?"

"I'd choke. That wouldn't be very sexy, would it?"

We kept up our quiet chatter while we touched up our faces, trading
cosmetics, giving one another giggled advice. We were mirror images, I
thought. She dark, me light; she real, me false. For the first time,
being wrapped in feminine clothes, my face coated with color, my body

changed - all of it felt utterly right. Maybe it was the hammer-like
impact of the alcohol, but I wouldn't have changed a thing, and told her
so.

Her eyes filled with tears. "I never expected to hear you say that,
love."

My smile in the mirror was bright. My lips were perfect. "I don't know
- or even care - why you wanted to do this to me. Thank you, Ellen."

6. Chapter - Stepping Out

"You're making me hot again," Ellen told me. She deliberately weighed
her heavy breasts. "See?"

Her nipples were indeed denting the shimmering black lycra dress. "I
noticed," I giggled, the alcohol making me reckless. "Would you like me to
do something about it?"

"You'd do me right here in the bathroom?" she purred.

"I'd do you anywhere you want. You make me hot, too, you know." My lips
were suddenly hungry. I wanted to replace Cindy's aftertaste with Ellen's
more pungent flavor.

"Not yet. Let's get out of here before it gets any worse."

"Worse?" I simpered teasingly, bending over to straighten my hose,
placing my face near her middle. The cascading silvery mane felt
wonderful. I could almost taste the dew certain to be collecting on the
inner surfaces of her labia. With a sudden rush, I remembered that my wife
was wearing no panties beneath that tiny dress, that her sleek, shaved
pussy was naked, mere inches from my saliva filling mouth. I felt my face
flush.

"I want to lick you, Ellen."

"You're d***k, you shameless hussy. I'd better get some food in you.
Come on."

Arm in arm, we re-entered the bar. My pulse was still hammering. I'd
eaten two pussies that day, had two marvelous orgasms, and was feeling
horny all over again. And rash.

The bar was filling. Our return drew eyes. I was already aware of how
beautiful I looked, how sexy in the shape-fitting gold minidress.
Thirty-seven, twenty-two, thirty-five, Cindy had declared with confidence
born of expertise. At five feet two inches, sans the heels, that made me a
knockout. The male eyes touching me didn't feel quite so invasive. The
potent drink had numbed my fear, warmed my libido. It was almost a
disappointment to reach our booth and hide ourselves behind a table.

Ellen leaned forward over it. The underhalf of her fine breasts again
pressed the smooth surface, and her deep cleavage opened to me. Her eyes
were hooded, the way they got when she was aroused. Her nipples were still
erect, must be visible to all our admirers. A stab of envy

pierced me. My latex breast forms, full as they were, felt inadequate.

"Would you like me to order you a snack, darling? Would you like to
stay for a while longer?"

I mechanically sipped the drink she'd pushed to my side of the table. I
was ashamed of my budding, twisted desire. "If you want to." Her face
changed to the look that demanded a real answer. "Yes. I'd like that."

She leaned back, dug for the cigarettes. "Now was that so hard?"

"I guess not." I watched her chest swell as she filled her lungs with
smoke. "Can I, uh, would you mind if I changed my mind about, uh ..."

"Smoking? Of course."

As Ellen's lighter flared in my hand and I hesitantly hollowed my cheeks
around the tobacco, the waitress arrived with another pair of unordered
stingers. "From the gentlemen," she informed us, nodding toward a table of
five businessmen across the room. I didn't like the taste of smoke at all.

My wife turned to smile at the table. "Thank them, Sheila. Give them
your prettiest smile."

My face tightened, my flush deepened. Deliberately smile at five men?
Men, just like me? Well, not quite like me, I admitted. But, wouldn't it
be rude not to - as well as annoying to Ellen? I'd already hurt her,
angered her deeply, and didn't want to risk that again. I knew how
enticing my lush red lips were as I turned up their corners and aimed them
toward the businessmen. As I did, Ellen shocked me. Beneath the table the
toe of one of her towering heels pressed against

my thighs, rubbed slickly over my hose.

My eyes jerked back to her. Her lips were slack. Her breathing was
quick. She'd slid down in her seat. "You're so beautiful," she muttered.
"Spread your legs, baby. Let me in."

My knees were knocking. I tried another puff of smoke. No one could
see, I reasoned. I obeyed her and swallowed a gulp of my drink. Dizzily,
I saw the lipstick coating its rim, marring the white filter of the
cigarette trembling in my hand. My bent-under prick was hard, hurtful,
invisible within the heavy elastic retainer. Her shoe slid smoothly
between my knees, rubbed up and down my inner thigh. With each stroke, it
went higher, its tip dipping under my high hem, nearing the tops of my
hose.

"Stop. Please," I whimpered.

"Am I embarrassing you?"

"Yes."

"Am I exciting you?"

I wet my lips. "Yes."

"Is your little clittie hard? Does it ache?"

My hips wanted to rock. I wanted to slide down so she could reach
higher. "Yes."

She suddenly dropped her foot and sat up. Her succulent mouth shaped an
inviting smile, directed over my shoulder. A deep voice throbbed in my
ear.

"May we join you?"

My entire body tensed. My head jerked toward the sound. Two men from
the distant table, broadly smiling, stood expectantly over us. My ears
were filled with a ringing noise. I barely heard Ellen.

"Of course. Sheila honey, scoot over."

I reflexively did as she commanded, felt the bench seat sag under a
heavy weight, smelled the sharp sting of male cologne over the stench of my
cigarette. A muscular shoulder brushed me as the man arranged himself. I
dared a quick look at my wife. Her heavy-lidded eyes were on me, glittered
mischievously. She'd deliberately set me up. She'd seen this coming.
She'd toyed with me, knowing what was going to happen.

She introduced us. I imagine I smiled mechanically, politely, although
I'll never be positive. The next few minutes are an absolute blank, a deep
hole in my memory. All I recall is a dire sense of panic. I was trapped
in the booth. I couldn't escape. There was nowhere to go. My glass was
suddenly empty. There was what I guess was a fresh cigarette burning
between my curved fingernails. Ellen's tall heel was sensuously rubbing my
ankle. My eyes on the table, I still saw her lean toward her gentleman,
watched her pendulous breast flatten against his bicep for a moment.
Beside me was a man. I darted my eyes up at him and he caught them. His
gaze spoke silent volumes. How desirable I was. How much he wished he
could kiss me, touch me. Fuck me.

Another round of drinks arrived. There was no food. The unaccustomed
alcohol was bringing me out of my shock. Ellen was flirting with both men.
Not outrageously, but encouraging them nonetheless. She was gently teasing
me about being so shy - recently divorced, she explained, and way out of
practice. She'd had to drag me out, she laughed musically. I wondered if
her pun was intentional, decided it was. She'd proven her genius.
Everything she did was intentional. What did she intend to happen next?
Her hand dropped to the man's suit sleeve. Her eyes were locked with his.
My throat tightened. Would she fuck him? Would she make me ...

My voice was shrill. It seemed to explode into the natural flow of
conversation. "Excuse me. I have to use the rest room. Ellen?" It was a
raw, desperate plea.

"Already?" she drawled. Her companion slid out. Mine patted my thigh,
let his hand linger for an instant before he moved. "Hurry back." His
breath puffed against my overheated cheek.

The drinks hit me like a truck the second I stood. The man who'd freed
me from the prison of the booth - Larry, I think his name was - caught me,
or I might have toppled off my heels. It was how he performed the
chivalrous gesture that was notable. He gathered me into his strong arms
like a lover. He didn't hold me tightly or lewdly, but did press against
me from breast to thigh. My thoroughly warmed latex tits must have been
convincingly soft. Through my spinning dizziness, I felt his erection on
my hip.

I fumblingly pushed away from him, but he kept his hands on my
shoulders, steadying me. The earth slowed its nauseating spin. Ellen was
standing beside me, wearing a wry red grin. She took my elbow and guided
my wobble toward the rest room. Her grip on my arm was painfully tight.
The instant the door closed behind us, she pushed me against the wall
length vanity. Her voice was a raw hiss.

"What the fuck's going on, Sheila? First you pout and sulk like a
little k** because I invited two gentlemen to sit with us, then you leap
into the guy's arms like a horny teenager."

"I'm d***k," I slurred. "I fell."

"My ass! It was deliberate as hell!"

"No!" I wailed. "I hate this, Ellen! All I want to do is go home!"

She sucked smoke savagely, spat it back out. "Maybe you'd like it if we
took them with us? You'd like to fuck him, wouldn't you?"

I shook my head so wildly that I staggered. I felt the tears gathering
in my eyes. "Don't say that. You know it's not true. Please don't be mad
at me. You know I can't drink."

"No one's been forcing you, bitch."

"I'm scared. It ... I ..."

She suddenly relented, hugged me, petted my silvery mane. It felt good
to be comforted. I nestled into her arms, lowered my head to her shoulder.
Her voice was soothing. "This's happening too fast for you, isn't it? All
these new sensations, these new feelings. It must be

very confusing."

I nodded meekly, sighed from the pit of my soul. The smell of smoke
mingled with her perfume to form an earthy scent.

"And," she chuckled, "I guess I did forget to order you something to
eat. Tell you what. Let's go back out there and make excuses and get out
of here. Okay?"

"Thank you, Ellen!"

"But I want you to do something for me first."

"Of course!"

"I want you to kiss him goodbye. A nice long kiss, like you mean it."

I lifted my wobbly head. My eyes were big as saucers and I'm sure my
pouty mouth hung open in shock. I started to ask her if she was serious,
but there was ice gleaming in her eyes. I dropped my gaze. I'd screwed up
so many times today that I'd lost count. I owed her whatever repayment she
demanded. I'd promised.

I barely heard my own voice. "You really want me to?"

"I do. Open your mouth. Use your tongue. I'll kiss mine, too - but
I'll be watching you. It'll make my cunt gush down my legs. It'll be fun
to watch them fall all over themselves, honey. They'll beg us to go out
with them. We'll give them a fake phone number, then I'll get you home and
feed you and sober you up. Deal?"

"I guess."

"Look at me," she demanded throatily, wiggling her skirt up, baring her
garters, then her naked cunt. "Look how fucking wet you make me, baby.
You turn me on so much it's killing me. I'm not hot because of those good
looking men. I'm dripping because I love watching you, Sheila.

Feel it, baby. Feel how wet I am."

I numbly reached down and rubbed her labia with a slender finger. She
purred, rocked her hips and took it a little inside. She was so slick, so
ready.

"That's what I want to kiss," I heard myself say. "That's where I want
my tongue."

She took a step back, her eyes deep pools of desire. "Not now. In the
car. On the way home. Just pretend his mouth is my cunt." She stretched
the black dress down over her hips, hiding her beautiful pussy.

She made me look at myself in the mirror. A reality check, she called
it. My own passion was as visible as my wife's. My nipples couldn't get
hard like hers, but my face reflected it just as deeply. Guiltily, I
smelled the finger that had caressed her. Her chuckle at my gesture was
low.

"Let's go do it," she said, "and get out of here before I **** you on
the spot."

Her left tit rubbed my right arm on the voyage back. I watched the
table approach, saw both men stand politely. They really were good
looking guys. Their suits were expensive. They were polite to a flaw, and
just a little forward. But then we looked like the kind of women who were
asking for male advances, so that was to be expected.

Ellen paused as we approached. "Sheila's not feeling well," I heard her
drone. We had to go. Disappointed noises from both. Ellen took us a step
closer. My eyes were locked on the one who'd picked me. Well trimmed dark
hair. Gleaming white teeth. Much taller than I was, and

vastly more muscular.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Ellen respond to the other one's faint
invitation and lean toward him. I mimicked her, refusing to think.

He gathered me up like I was a precious treasure. He enfolded me in
arms far more powerful than any I'd been in. His head bent toward mine and
my lips parted, just as they would have for Ellen. My arms went around his
waist.

His mouth was hard. His face was slightly scratchy. His tongue was
quick, agile, demanding. He ground his face against mine and took my mouth
with his own. There was no way I could pretend it was my wife. His
swollen groin was tight against my belly. When I pulled away, he

relented, released me. My lipstick decorated him like an indelible
stain, yet it vanished completely as he transferred it to his white silk
handkerchief. Did he have a wife who'd notice it, I wondered

stupidly, then tore my eyes away.

Ellen was completing the lie. Her desire-bruised lips were slightly
blurred, just as mine must be. I could make no sense of her words, just
waited patiently for her to finish. My man was saying something. I smiled
mechanically, my thundering pulse drowning out all sound. When Ellen
turned, so did I. We made our escape.

All I remember about the long trip back to the car is the way my body
moved. The plug buried in my ass caressed me with every short stride. My
hips felt loose, and I knew they swayed sexily. I didn't care. I felt my
breast forms bounce every time my high heels jarred against the

terrazzo floor. I felt the breeze of my movement lick my sleek thighs,
my long hair tickle my shoulders, the faint weight of the heavy earrings.
The corset's tightness was reassuring. My stone hard little cock, aimed
toward my warm ass cheeks, rubbed slightly between my thighs. I was as
d***k on sensation as I was on liquor.

I remember more about the drive home. I vividly recall burying my face
between Ellen's wantonly spread thighs as she sat behind the wheel. I knew
the windows were tinted and that my act would be unseen, but I'd have done
it anyway. I sucked and nibbled her through two restrained orgasms and was
working toward a third by the time we achieved the garage. She d**g me
away from her gaping cunt long enough to slide the seat back, then fucked
my face with crazed abandon, beating my chin with her hips. I don't think
she was even aware she was speaking.

"Oh, fuck me with that slutty tongue, baby. Stick it deep in me, just
like you did Cindy's nasty little hole. I almost died when you came out
with your clit and balls dangling down and your cum still in your hot
little whore's mouth. I saw how you kissed that guy, cunt. You loved it.
You let him tongue fuck your mouth, didn't you, you nasty little slut? You
felt how hard you made his big cock, didn't you? Every time you smoked, it
was like you were sucking a dick. The way you strutted through the mall
turned you on, didn't it? It made you feel like a tramp, didn't it? You
loved every minute of the whole fucking day, didn't you, baby?"

There was more. It was like each accusation, each question drove me
deeper into her slick slit. It was all true, every word of it. And I
wasn't ashamed. I felt no guilt. She was proud of me. This was what she
wanted. Atop my lust was an overlay of gratitude. I trusted her. She
knew what I wanted, what I needed. When she finally exploded, she did so
with v******e. She twisted my head, crushed my skull, jerked madly on my
hair. I felt my own orgasm trying to fill my panties, and somehow managed
to deny it. She hadn't given me permission.

The instant she threw me away from her, I rawly begged her to let me
finish myself. I was writhing with need, had to made fists of my hands to
keep them from my silky center.

Ellen sprawled obscenely against the driver's door, her dress around her
waist, her heavy tits exposed. Her nipples were immense. Her cunt lips
still pulsed. Her makeup was intact, although she'd gotten lipstick on her
teeth from biting her lower lip. She stared at me, had trouble lighting a
cigarette.

"Put your feet on the dashboard," she growled. "Open your legs as far
as you can."

I scrambled to do what she wanted.

"Reach down and show me your clit."

I jerked the panties away, loosed my purpled member from the restrainer,
displayed it, gasping, trying not to blow at the wonderful thrills created
by my touches.

"Bend forward as far as you can, slut. Try to suck it. Jack yourself
off. Shoot straight into your mouth."

I couldn't f***e the corset to bend much more and I whined in
frustration. She helped me, grabbing my ankles, forcing my knees higher.
It felt like I was being cut in half.

"Open those slimy lips, whore, and do it."

Two seconds later, I erupted. A gout of sperm splatted against my
forehead. A second struck my lower lip. The third landed on my heaving
chest. The rest simply drooled over my pumping fist. The instant she
released me, I started scooping up the fragrant, warm cum, eating it like
it was my favorite candy, wishing there was more.

"Good, baby," she cooed, "but not good enough. Let's get you inside.
I've got something I need to show you."

7. Chapter - Home Sweet Home

Later - much later, emotionally, if not by the clock - Ellen helped me
to bed. I needed every bit of assistance I could get. I'd been tied in a
position similar to, though more relaxed than the torturous bent forward
stance she'd employed the night before, and she'd taught me two very
important lessons. I was more accustomed to the squeeze of the corset and
the angle of the high heels, so that part of it wasn't nearly as agonizing.
The rest of the punishment, though, was much

more vicious than merely being spanked.

Ellen's first exercise was designed to illustrate how to suck cock. She
employed a strap-on dildo, one end of which was buried in the denuded cunt
still bearing my lipstick, and demanded that I perform fellatio on her
until my jaws ached and the back of my mouth was raw.

Begging her not to abuse my throat had proven worse than useless. As
she tapped her false cock against my sealed red lips, she reminded me of my
vow to do anything to earn her forgiveness. Would I prefer it if she went
to some bar and picked up a stranger equipped with the real thing and
brought him home for me? She'd be happy to drop to her knees in front of
me and lick its length, kiss its swollen head, and demonstrate first hand
how it should be done, if I wanted that. My answer was to part my lips and
ask her to tell me what to do.

The second lesson was how to take the same device, thickly greased, up
my stretched asshole. Relax, she'd urged as she pushed into me, and enjoy
it. The physical pain was much less than I expected. The butt plug must
have opened me up quite well, and the alcohol had deadened me. The
emotional trauma was much more severe.

My wife fucked my virgin ass - my cunt, she called it, her throat
clogged with lust - until the pressure of the dildo against her clit made
her cum. By then I was so delirious that I could almost feel the rubber
dong pulse and ripple in my gut as if it was expelling a huge load of sperm
deep into me.

Both were punishment for my slutty behavior at the beauty salon,
fulfillment of her earlier vow to treat me like a whore if I acted like
one. After her orgasm had eased, she gently withdrew her cock from me and
wiped it clean. As she used the warm, damp cloth to remove the messy
lubricant from my fiery red lower cheeks, she reached beneath me and
fondled my engorged cock, murmuring that I'd earned a reward. My hips
resumed the thrust they'd learned while she'd fucked me, and I watched
enthralled from between my spread, chained, hose clad legs, as her hand
glided over my long flesh, massaging it against the latex prick, heated by
my bowels and still strapped to her. I shrieked as I came, shooting my
jism all over her hand and the dildo.

When she moved back to my head, she didn't need to order me to lick the
shaft and her hand clean. That I was hungrily licking real cum from a cock
shaped toy was an irony that wasn't wasted on me.

Again I slept on the floor, chained to the bed frame, dressed in the
loosened corset and a different teddy. Ellen had coaxed my stunned brain
through the laborious process of removing all my makeup, explaining that it
wasn't good for my complexion to sl**p in it, and showing me exactly how I
needed to care for my skin. I voided my violated bowels and easily
returned the ass plug to its home. In my exhaustion, even my
color-stripped face looked wholly female. I still

felt d***k, or d**gged. I wondered why I hadn't seen how feminine my
were features before, how I had truly been a woman awaiting her rebirth all
my life.

I silently cried myself to sl**p, not because I was pain wracked from
her violation of me, not due to the cruelty of having every possible trace
of my masculinity erased - but because I'd loved almost everything that'd
happened to me, the whole day long. My thoughts weren't about how I could
restore myself back into maleness after my two week surprise vacation
ended, but rather to pray that I could somehow extend it forever.

It'd taken Ellen just over thirty-six hours to reveal, to myself and the
world at large, a side of myself I'd barely dared to even fantasize about.
While I'd sneakily worn her panties and dresses, this was what I'd wanted.
It'd been too horrifying, too perverse to admit, even in the darkest
recesses of my mind.

Even as I was wracked by silent sobs, I was wondering what my wife had
in mind for the next day. I knew that, no matter what I said, no matter
how strenuously I objected, I'd welcome whatever she made me do, no matter
how degrading.

My eagerness had passed by morning. The pain that hadn't been there the
night before throbbed in my ass, burned in the back of my mouth. My
calves, feet, and the small of my back were incredibly sore from wearing
the tall heels all day. My scalp itched like mad under the

permanently affixed wig. I had a hangover that felt like some insane
blacksmith was at work at an anvil between my ears. My stomach growled
with both hunger and nausea.

When Ellen released me, she didn't bother with shackles. I staggered
into the bathroom barefoot to take care of essential business. Unlike the
morning before, I couldn't bring myself to stand to urinate. I told myself
that was because I was so sick, and knew it was a lie. I sat on the toilet
ring because it would've been too shameful to act like I was still a man.
My penis and testicles were the only part of me that looked male, and I
couldn't bear the thought of peeing the old way. It would've been
shamefully hypocritical, a senseless denial of what had already become my
reality.

A long hot soak in a fragrant tub eased my physical woes, and a real, if
low-fat, breakfast lessened my psychic ones. Ellen weighed me. I was
astonished to see that I'd already lost five pounds. Her warning that the
next fifteen would be harder wasn't lost on me. I swallowed

my big "vitamin" with mixed feelings. I'd become aware how the large
dose of hormones had already affected my body. Part of me wished I could
swallow the entire bottle and accelerate the changes taking place. The
other part was ashamed to tears of that perverse desire.

She had me dress in the black corset, but left it moderately loose, and
had me cover it with the first casual clothes I'd worn in what seemed
forever. The new designer jeans were satisfyingly tight, and the three
inch heels were as easy to move in as tennis shoes had been in my old life.
I thought the green cotton blouse was flattering with the gold choker in
place of the leather collar I'd been wearing for the last two days. The
only makeup she allowed me was lipstick and mascara, which I had to do
myself.

I was still a pretty young woman, but one more suited to keeping house
than teasing cock at the mall. With rubber gloves protecting my too-long
nails, I set about cleaning the house with more gusto than I'd ever felt
before.

It was a purely domestic day, as were most of the two which followed.
There were no outrageous outside adventures. No shopping. No drinks at
bars. No scenes with other women - or men.

Ellen developed a routine for me. There were exercises designed to
limber me as well as work off pounds, without building ugly muscles. There
were daily lessons in feminine behavior and voice sessions every afternoon.
I gave myself two enemas every day. While grocery shopping

- our only trip out of the house during those three quiet days - my wife
bought me a videotape on cosmetics and demanded I memorize it, as well as
read every magazine article I could find on the same topic.

My feminine lifestyle quickly became second nature. I got so used to my
long silvery hair that I couldn't imagine having ever been without it. I
found I could do everything with my long painted nails that I'd done
before. The aches in my leg and back muscles eased and being

without high heels didn't feel normal. During rare moments without
breast forms and a butt plug, I felt like I'd been stripped of vital parts
of myself.

That was one of the most effective ways Ellen punished me. After
breaking one of our wedding wine glasses while unloading the dishwasher,
she angrily took off all my clothes and made me continue my chores nude
except for five inch heels and heavy rubber gloves. I hated the way my
cock and balls dangled, slapped against my smooth, hairless thighs with
every step. I felt fat and ugly with no corset to give me the lovely shape
I identified with. After an hour, I was in

tears, begging her to let me stretch my retainer over my male organs and
lace me back into a corset.

She was lounging in a hot bath while I cleaned the toilet and tile
floor. "You've broken something irreplaceable, Sheila. We toasted one
another with that glass at our wedding reception. After having destroyed a
symbol of our marriage, you ask me to lighten your punishment?"

"Just change it," I said in my more refined female voice. "Please,
Ellen. This is too ... too -"

"Humiliating? Disgraceful?" she mocked.

I nodded, unable to meet her eyes.

"If I let you start making amends, will you do everything I say for the
rest of the day without hesitation? No matter what it is?"

"Yes! I promise!"

She lay in the steaming water with her eyes closed for a moment. A
smile grew on her face. "Run to the vanity and bring back your favorite
lipstick, doll."

I took her order literally. Running in the tall heels was more scamper
than trot, but I'd become used to their limitations.

"Lay on your back on the floor."

The tile was cold.

"Raise your knees and spread your legs so you can see your clit. Good
girl. Take off your gloves. Now paint it with the lipstick. All of it. I
want it to be fuscia from top to bottom."

I stretched it, stroked the tube of vivid color up and down. It
hardened as I did, exposing yet more surface area to be coated. She
climbed from the tub, stood at my feet as I finished.

"Do your mouth, baby. Smear it on heavy."

The chills racing through me weren't caused by the cool floor. I ran
the lipstick over my mouth again and again until she nodded approval.

"Now jack off, bitch." She grabbed my ankles and bent me double, pushing
my knees as wide as they'd go. My shaft felt greasy in my palm, which was
instantly coated with bright color. She strained my back and neck muscles
until they screamed with pain, leaning all her weight on my comma shaped
body, forcing my cock closer and closer to my face.

"Pull your plug, cunt. Fuck your ass with the lipstick. No! Leave the
cap off the tube!"

The plug came out with the usual wet sensation. It was larger than the
lipstick, which slid easily inside my loosened hole. I held it so I could
see the dark plastic holder go in and out. My hand was a blur on my dick.
Slowly, my strained muscles let it come still closer to my slick red lips.

"Lick it, whore."

I strained my tongue as far as possible, but it wasn't far enough. I
was an inch away from the smeared, swollen purplish- red tip.

"Cum, lover. Shoot every drop right in your slutty little mouth."

As if her command was enough to make me explode, I did precisely what
she demanded. The closeup sight of my expanding, pulsing prick, the vision
of the first gout of sperm being expelled, the shocking sensation of my cum
spattering inside my gaping mouth - these factors seemed to quadruple the
intensity of my orgasm, send me into a realm beyond anything I'd ever
imagined. At that instant, my tongue somehow managed to make contact with
my leaping cock.

Something happened deep within my soul. Something irreversible. It was
like an electrical circuit had been closed, a psychic switch flipped. An
all new energy burned through me. It was entirely my imagination, but I
felt the whole length of my dick slide between my lips, into my mouth, down
my throat. All this in the split second before the second burst of cum hit
my hard palate, instantly followed by the third and fourth. By then, my
entire body was involved in the

mind-boggling climax. My ass was spasming around the lipstick tube,
squeezing it like a pussy does a cock. My hips were desperately trying to
fuck my mouth.

As the surges began to fade, my universe expanded beyond my body. I
heard my harsh gasps for air, Ellen's thick voiced encouragements. The
heel of one of my red shoes was buried in her cunt. But, above all, the
wonderful ripeness of my cum coated my mouth and tongue and soul.

I'd been made whole. A single touch of tongue to cock had made all the
difference in the world.

I caught the last oozes and dribbles in my cupped palm, milked my staff
with my lipstick covered fist, and licked it clean with a voracious hunger.
I'd stepped over a precipice and was still falling. My taste had been
whetted, not appeased. I wanted more - craved a steady flow of sperm down
my throat, not the teasing appetizer I'd given myself. I knew I'd gone mad
and I welcomed it.

Ellen disrupted my delirious reverie by lifting herself off my spike
heel and dropping my rubbery legs. She fell atop me, her hips thrusting
incoherently against my shrinking dick, her lips devouring mine, her tongue
frantic to share the flavor of my sperm. I felt the lipstick tube slip
from my ass. I opened my jaws to my wife, letting her lap from my cavity
like a dog does from a bowl. She too was cumming, using my spent rod to
rub her clit.

When she abruptly jerked away from me, her face bore an expression that
was as crazed as mine must have been. Her voice was low and raw. "Wash
the slime off your face and hands, whore. Leave everything else exactly as
it is and have your nasty ass in the bedroom in three

minutes."

She bolted from the bathroom like a berserker before I could move.
Every muscle in my body was relaxed. Pushing myself to my knees took a
massive effort. But I could almost hear a clock ticking off the seconds in
my head. I was infected by her wild energy. I scrubbed at my face and
hands, whining with frustration at the stubbornness of the lipstick's
stains.

I had no idea if I met her deadline. Neither did Ellen. She was
throwing clothes at the bed as I hurried on wobbly legs into the bedroom.

"Get dressed, you sleazy cunt."

I tried to be careful not to smear my lipsticked cock and ass on my
hands as I arranged my organs in the tight grip of the retainer. I
squirmed into the red corset while she lit a cigarette and stared at me
through narrowed, smoldering eyes. I rolled up equally red hose, stepped
into scarlet bikini panties. I looked around for an ass plug. There was
none. I looked at her helplessly, seeking guidance.

She grabbed the laces of the corset and began hooking me into it. Never
had she used such strength, restrained me so impossibly tight. Even
without the gel filled breast forms, my tit flesh bulged into the cups. My
nipples were nearly as swollen as my wife's. And I wished it was tighter
still. I ached for my tits to fill the cups to overflowing.

She tied me off and roughly pushed me toward the vanity. "Paint
yourself, slut. We're going out. We're going to get you laid for real.
Make yourself look like the whore you are, Sheila. If you don't use enough
makeup, I'll make you watch while some real man drills my cunt, then make
you lick his cum out of me."

I was utterly infected. I wanted that. I wanted to lay helplessly
beside her while a long fat prick drilled her wet pussy. I wanted to hear
her cries, watch her humping, spasming body. My mouth watered at the
thought of tasting her cum mixed with someone's sperm. It would've

been more like reward than punishment.

I created a face just as slutty as she wanted because I wanted it as
much as she did - maybe even more. I felt hollow, empty. I was going to
be fucked. By a man.

"Good," she growled, rubbing her cunt against the back of my head. She
ran a dildo over my cheek. "Use this on yourself while I do my makeup.
Don't even think about cumming again."

I flopped on the bed, curled my sexy legs to my chest and stroked the
long thin rubber cock in and out of my lipstick slickened ass while I
watched her. It was good. Very good.

I won't lie. I won't claim that everything that happened that night was
because of Ellen's dominance. That had nothing to do with it. I did it
all on my own. My mind remained filled with a haze as thick as my cum. It
allowed only surreal images of twisted lust to take shape. I was
possessed.

I spoke the name of the notorious bi-sexual bar through lips too heavy
with lipstick and gloss. I drove us there while she used the dildo on her
gushing pussy. I licked it clean after each of her two orgasms. I asked
her for a cigarette after we parked, after I'd freshened my wet red lips,
just before I led our pranced entrance. I sucked smoke as I scanned the
crowd, found us a table. I crossed my legs so anyone who cared to got a
good look at my long thighs.

I was completely devoid of shame. I selected and rejected my dance
partners, seeking just the right man. I found him after about a half hour.
I forgot about Ellen, who was on the dance floor dry fucking some guy. I
was at the table, working on my second drink and my third cigarette. I
wanted him the moment he sat in my wife's empty chair. My half hard clit
lurched toward the crack of my ass. My lips ached to be crushed under his,
and I unabashedly let him know it.

He wanted to dance first. I felt his cock swell against my belly as I
pressed into him. It was for me. His cum was for me. I wrapped my arms
around his neck and strained against him. I stood on tiptoe and claimed
his mouth, drove my tongue between his parted lips exactly like I wanted
his prick to take me. He finally got the idea. I was no nice girl playing
the dating game. I was a wanton slut who only wanted his meat.

Ellen had guided her partner near us and caught my eye. Her hand was
openly rubbing her man's cock. Her mouth was smeared. Her nipples were
twin bullets trying to tear through her black cocktail dress. Her
gyrations on the dance floor had raised her skirt high enough to expose

the tops of her hose. Her eyes were glowing embers, drilling into me.

I was looking at her while I licked my date's ear and whispered into it.
"I want to suck your cock. I need your cum."

I led him to our car, pushed him into the back seat. My quaking hand
was on his zipper before he was settled against the far door. When I felt
the heat of his long, stiff, smooth cock in my hands, I froze. A wild
thrill ripped up my spine, exploded against the top of my skull, s**ttering
hot sparks everywhere. Time slowed. I watched my lovely hands drag it out
into view. My little fists encircled it, traveled its length, measured its
girth. My mouth filled with saliva. This was

it. The time had come. My head was pulled toward his lap by an
irresistible f***e.

I already knew what it'd feel like, taste like, look like. There were
no surprises. Far, far back, in the dark corners of my mind, I'd imagined
this all my life. Since puberty, I'd craved this. My passion-heavy red
lips met the tip of his prick, kissed it tenderly, like a long lost lover.

I knew what to do. I knew how to make him as crazy with need as I was.
No born-woman could know what I did about how to please a man.

I made love to a disembodied cock, not the nameless man it was attached
to. I licked and sucked and kissed. I ran him into and out of my mouth,
fondling his heavy, hairy balls, flirting with his ass, occasionally
gasping and shuddering and having to just jack him off as I was consumed
with wild ecstasy.

He came too soon. I almost missed it. I had to lunge down on him as
his groans suddenly changed tone, as I felt his dick harden yet more and
begin its preliminary twitching. My head bobbed up and down, taking as
much splendor into my mouth as I could manage.

When the first gush came, I was ready. I tightened my lips on him and
began my own orgasm as his seed hit the top of my throat with marvelous
f***e. I wanted to remember each pulse, each gout, each choked swallow -
but I lost track. Specifics faded beneath the groundswell of my

fulfillment. All I recall is drinking him dry, trying to suck him hard
again, and being pushed away.

He was too sensitive, he said. I was hurting him. I didn't care. I
wanted that fine prick in my readied ass. It was literally pulsing with
need. And he wasn't interested. I watched in angry disbelief as he put
his cock away. He said he wasn't into being watched and slipped out the
door behind him.

That was the first indication I had of my wife's presence. I swept my
hair out of my eyes and looked over my shoulder. She was leaning against
the car next to ours fingering her cunt, pinching her carelessly bared
tits. I leaned into the front seat, grabbed the dildo she'd left laying
there. I held it out to her, positioned myself on all fours on the seat.

Ellen lurched forward and took over. The second she drove it between my
ass cheeks, I came again. She blocked my raw scream with her hand and
fucked me with just the savagery I needed. She kept it up even after my
arms collapsed, dropping my face onto the upholstery. She

continued, using both hands, while the seat muffled my choked sobs and
wails. I'm nearly positive I had yet a third orgasm before her arms tired,
but by then I was reduced to delirium. My hips had a life of their own,
kept rolling and thrusting long after the dildo squirted from my hungry
hole and clunked to the floorboard.

8. Chapter - Aftermath

I recall nothing more until Ellen slapped me awake. She was standing
impatiently outside the opened car door.

"Wake up, slut. Time for bed."

I was still in the back seat, but the car was now in our garage. I was
on my back, my knees lifted, with the long dildo hugged tight to my chest.
I awoke with full knowledge of where we'd been, what I'd done. I sucked a
harsh breath and groaned when I tried to move. My ass felt

like the dildo was still inside, heated white hot. The man's cum was
sour in my mouth. An emotion was building in me that I couldn't name.

I saw the next slap coming, but was too sluggish to avoid it.

"I said move, goddamn it!"

I moved. I dragged myself upright. Clambering out of the car and
finding my balance took enormous energy. My compressed, underclad body
weighed tons. I wasn't fast enough for her.

My wife grabbed my long tangled mane and jerked hard. I staggered after
her, off balance, bent forward, flailing my arms to keep from falling.

"You're hurting me," I whined piteously. The back of my mouth was sore
and my jaws ached.

Her only response was to bark a nasty laugh and walk more quickly. The
kitchen again. This time I knew exactly why I was being punished, and
offered no resistance as she put my ankles in a spreader bar I'd never seen
before, cuffed my hands behind me and lifted them toward the

ceiling, bending me into a right angle. She left me there. I was
afraid that I'd collapse and dislocate my shoulders. I hadn't even managed
to adjust to the position before she returned, carrying a full length
mirror. She lowered it to the floor and slid it under me, between my
widely spread legs.

She lit a cigarette. She'd repaired her beautifully sexy face somewhere
along the line. She didn't seem as angry. "Look at yourself, Sheila. I
never want you to forget this."

I was stunned, as if she'd slapped me again. First, of course, I saw my
face. My tangled platinum blonde hair hung down, framing my totally ruined
heavy makeup. My eyes were surrounded by wide black circles of blurred
eyeliner and mascara. The remaining deep emerald and rust eyeshadow looked
bland. My lips looked bruised, were ringed with a wide smear that was all
that remained of my thick lipstick. My false tits looked huge with my
shoulders pinned back. The hem of my wrinkled red minidress had risen, but
I'd have been able to see all the way up anyway from this angle. Where had
the little red panties gone? My retainer dug into the soft flesh of my
groin, hugging my male organs into invisibility. The pale, slim thighs
below were caked with dried cum. My vision swam for a moment. I thought
it was his, that there was a beautiful cunt hidden in there, that it'd
leaked the some of the sperm he'd shot so deeply into my soul.

The stark light of the camera's flash attachment as Ellen photographed
me from every angle jerked me back toward reality.

"Pose for me, baby. Push that great butt out. Can you see how red it
is around your asshole? You were fucked good, whore. Too bad it wasn't
the real thing in there. It'd have felt as good as it did in your throat.
But you know that, right? You wanted it, but the fucker let you down,
didn't he?"

I nodded, remembered to add a verbal "Yes," as well.

"But you know there'll be other times. Any bitch as hot as you are can
get fucked anytime you want. And a nympho cunt like you will want it a
lot. You'll have so many dicks shoved in that tight ass and between those
cocksucking lips that you'll lose count of them."

She fed me the cigarette. I watched my lips suck it, my chest expand as
much as it could given my restraints, then my mouth purse as I exhaled. I
felt her doing something to my left hand, realized she was removing my
wedding band. I'd noted its incongruity once or twice. As

Ellen twisted it off my finger, I realized just how wrong it was to wear
it any longer. Women don't wear wide gold bands. They can't be married
other women in our state. I tried and failed to blink away a rush of
tears. Suddenly, the name of the dull emotion filling me had a name.

It was grief. I was mourning my own death. Ellen's husband was dead,
gone forever. Shamelessly begging to suck that cock, thrilling to each and
every sensation, had sealed his fate, made his resurrection, not merely
unlikely, but impossible. I was Sheila now, body and soul.

I was surprised to feel her doing something else to my ring finger. A
new ring, lighter, thinner, slipped over my knuckle. I strained my neck
but couldn't see it. She slid her hand down my back, cupped my ass cheeks
and petted them.

"How much money do we have in savings?"

Her finger distracted me as it toyed with my tender asshole. Her
question made no sense for a moment. I sniffed away tears enough to speak.
"I, uh, about two thousand, I guess."

"Good. That'll get us started."

"Started?"

"You want real tits, don't you? They cost money, darling. More like
five thousand than two, I think."

Her finger dipped inside me. My eyes locked on the reflection of my
chest in the mirror. Real tits. Nice big, firm mounds hanging there. To
overflow my slinky bras. To fill a bikini top on the beach. To be petted,
sucked and bitten.

Her voice was dim in my ears. She inserted a second finger. "Umm. I
knew that'd turn you on, slut. We'll shave your larynx and change your
voice while we're at it. Maybe someday we'll be able to buy you a nice
tight cunt, too. Have a doctor gut that useless prick and tuck it away

inside you. You'd have three holes, whore. Room for three cocks at the
same time. You'd like that. Three men fucking you. Hands all over you,
driving you crazy with lust."

Her other hand rubbed my too big clit while her fingers wiggled within
me. I was thrusting against her, watching my sleazy lips pant as my
passion again spiraled toward a new peak.

"Oh, honey," I groaned weakly. "Oh, shit. Fuck me, Ellen. Put
something big and fat in me. Something hot and hard. I need it, honey. I
need it bad."

She laughed merrily. "I've got just the thing. I've been saving it for
a special time like this. Ron? Baby, come on in here."

I saw my shock in the mirror more than I felt it. Ron? We had a
neighbor named Ron. A body-builder our age. Married to a dull, silent
girl named Miriam.

Before I could even shape the question in my mind, it was answered. I
saw a pair of hairy, pillar-like legs approach. Barefoot.

"Take over up here," she purred throatily, withdrawing her fingers from
my ass. "I'll get you ready."

Thicker fingers replaced hers, entered me without delicacy. I saw Ellen
sink to her knees, peer at me from between my legs. She licked her
gleaming scarlet lips. Her hands weighed a huge, hairy pair of balls,
massaged a growing cock. Without taking her eyes off me, she kissed its
swelling head, licked it with a lascivious tongue.

"Yeah, I've been fucking Ron for almost a year, Sheila. I love you, but
your puny prick was never enough for me. Fucking you was always more like
screwing a woman with a cock than being with a real man."

Ron laughed at that, making his dick leap in her hand. She gave it a
more lingering kiss, allowing the whole head to enter her mouth, and
moaning around it. Saliva and lipstick clung to it as she let it pop out.

"We fucked with you right in the next room lots of times, Sheila. We
were doing it in the pool house at the Robinson's party when I told him how
much you got off sneaking around in my lingerie. He was the one who
suggested that we bring you out of the closet, cunt. He saw you

staring at his crotch a couple of times and knew how much you'd love
fucking other guys. He helped me plan the whole thing. He deserves a good
fuck, don't you think? He deserves to be the first to dump a wad in your
ass. Give him a good ride, baby."

She guided his swollen, slickened dick between my cheeks. Her eyes
glittered and her lips were parted as she teased me, rubbing the head
around my puckered hole. What she said was true. I'd noticed the size of
his manhood with what I thought was shameful envy. Now I knew

better. It was desire.

My hole was slick and ready. I tried to push against Ron's hard on.
Ellen backed his cock away, continued her maddening flirtation. "Tell him
what you want, Sheila."

I knew I was doing exactly as she'd said I would. I was begging to be
ass fucked. Without hesitation, I let my needs roll from my slutty mouth.
"Fuck me, Ron. Fuck my ass hard and deep. Please. Give me what you've
been giving Ellen. Cum in me. I need you. I've wanted you ever since I
watched you move in last year. Ram that fat cock all the way in and fuck
me like a whore."

It was nothing like the dildos Ellen had impaled in me. It was hot,
both hard and silky soft - alive! And, it was huge. As he thrust in that
first few inches, I felt myself stretching, and was filled with a burning
agony. If I could have spoken then, I'd have been begging him to stop. I
couldn't. My lips gaped, made a horrified red circle in the mirror. My
heavily made up eyes were huge. Ron yelled in pain and slapped my ass with
a hard, resounding smack. "Relax, cunt! You're hurting me!"

I gasped for breath tried to concentrate on doing what he said. I must
have achieved it, because he slid in deeper, then began a slow pumping.
Each push lessened the pain. The heat of him, the overwhelming fullness of
my ass, felt unlike anything I'd ever known. The mirror

showed his thick shaft disappearing and emerging from my body. Ellen
looked as enraptured as I was. She had one hand in her cunt, was making
wet noises with her fingers. She used the other to alternately hold her
lover's balls and caress my hidden ones.

Overcome with lust, Ron gave up on gentleness. He took my narrow hips
in his hands and pushed hard, forcing the last half of his meat all the way
in. He started slamming into my ass then, without concern for my comfort.
After three of four of his grunting thrusts, I no longer cared. It still
hurt, but the pain became secondary. The sights and sounds and sensations
transported me, mutated the agony, changed it to joy. I started wiggling
my hips, pushed back to greet his plunging cock. I was fucking my wife's
lover, not merely being fucked by him.

It lasted forever and was over too soon. I don't remember Ellen jerking
my retainer off my male organs. I don't know when she started sucking my
straining clit. But I do know that when Ron's pace became frantic, when
his impacts started jarring my teeth and I was positive he was going to
fill me with his cum, I exploded in my wife's hungry mouth with enough
f***e to gag her.

But, glorious as that was, it paled in significance when Ron blew his
wad in my guts. I closed my eyes. I swear to god I felt his jerking spew
all the way to my throat. I milked him, did my best to squeeze every drop
of his precious sperm from him.

As his pulsing diminished, I felt soft lips on mine, tasted the tangy
cum coating them. I returned Ellen's impassioned kiss, sucked my cum from
her full mouth.

Finally, I was whole.

"Thank you," I murmured into her mouth, making our kiss tender, more
loving than I'd known a kiss could be.

My knees were too weak to support me. When they collapsed, my shoulders
were wrenched hideously. Had Ron not still been gripping my hips, I'd have
dislocated them both. He held me up, his cock shrinking rapidly in my ass,
while Ellen stumbled to her feet and dashed for the

rope. As she released it, our lover lowered me to the cold mirror. I
felt his jism leaking from my hole, warm and sticky, as he pulled out. One
of them freed my arms from the handcuffs.

I lay there on my side, frail and helpless, while Ellen and Ron
embraced. Her hand massaged his limp dick while he crushed her against him
and she strained against his hard lips.

She tore her mouth from his. "I want you," she growled. "It's my
turn." She jerked her head to face me. "Get him hard for me, slut."

She led him by the dick to me, pushed him down toward my face. I bathed
his spent flesh in hot, wet, hungry kisses, tenderly took it into my mouth
and nursed on it, felt it begin to swell, fill my cavity. The second prick
to visit my mouth tasted nothing like the first, felt even better. But
Ellen deprived me of it as soon as I'd gotten it hard. She positioned
herself on her hands and knees beside me, guided the pole in her hand
between spread thighs. Her eyes closed blissfully

as he entered her. I reached out and started squeezing her dangling
tits. Ron batted my hands away and grabbed them himself, using them for
handles as he rode her, just as savagely as he had me.

His violent thrusts moved her face closer to me. When her eyes opened,
they were glassy with lust. She attacked my mouth with hers, grunted into
me each time he hammered her. When she started cumming, she bit my lower
lip. Each time she spasmed, she bit harder. When he suddenly

stopped, she whined in shock and need.

His voice was a snarl. "Slide under your cunt of a wife, bitch. Lick
my balls while I fuck her. See how a real woman takes a dick."

I scrambled to obey. I not only kissed and sucked his balls, I also
flicked my tongue over Ellen's swollen clit, lapped the fluids that
overflowed her pussy. Her lips were on my organ again, lapping the cum
that'd oozed from my ass. I was still so loose that her tongue actually
entered me. I humped her face like the wanton slut I was. I had no more
boundaries. A lifetime of limits, of denial, rolled off me like a shed
skin. I embraced my new existence, fit both Ron's tender balls between
widely opened lips and rolled my wife's clit with unabashed abandon.

She began another series of orgasms, had to give up my little dick in
order to howl and scream. I released Ron's testicles when I felt them
tighten. It was astounding to see his huge rod swell and throb and fill
her twitching cunt with another load of cum. As it leaked past her labia,
I devoured it, eliciting still more shrieks from her. Ron jerked out and
rolled away, gasping for breath. I devoured her vacated hole, and she
continued to cum, continued to shrilly cry out,

wracked by spasms I refused to let end.

Finally, sobbing, she fell on top of me, moving her throbbing groin out
of reach.

A sated, warm relaxation enveloped me. I only vaguely recall the chill
when Ellen rolled off me. She and Ron spoke softly, but I could make no
sense of their words. I sank into a deep peaceful sl**p.

9. Chapter - Awakening

There was a vague noise. It was dark. The bed was far too hard, too
cold. I was curled into a tight ball. When I began to roll over, I was
ripped by pain. My ass. My jaws. My shoulders. I moaned.

"Wake up, whore." The ceiling light flared blindingly.

Memory filled me, and my pain was explained. I was still on the kitchen
floor.

Ellen leaned against the doorframe, smoking. She wore only high heels
and hose. Her nipples were swollen. Bite marks decorated the slope of her
tits. Her makeup was mostly gone. What remained made her look cheap, used
- and beautiful.

I tried to speak. My throat was dry, raw, emitted only a croak.

"Ron went home," she explained. "We're through with the bed. Get your
sleazy ass up there."

I was afraid I'd have to crawl up the stairs, but somehow managed to
climb painfully to my feet. I used the walls to keep myself erect and
followed her swaying ass and trail of smoke.

She released me from the corset and made me sl**p in the huge wet spot
they'd left on the sheets. Each breath filled me with the perfume of their
fucking. I'd been good enough to earn a night in bed. No chains. The
world faded again.

It was still dark when I awoke, my bowels and bladder both demanding
relief. I eased Ellen's arm off me and tiptoed into the bathroom. It hurt
so much that I was afraid I was shitting bl**d, but my stool looked
perfectly normal. Wiping was agonizing. I shuddered a little, remembering
how huge Ron had felt in me, and hoped that being fucked wasn't always
going to hurt so much.

I steeled myself before using the mirror, but the glass wasn't the enemy
it had been. Even without the corset, I was able to convince myself that
my image was that of an undeveloped - rather, a developing - woman. Those
sweet lips had hosted two cocks after all, and the

dimpled ass had taken its first prick. I squeezed and lifted my chest.
If I continued to please Ellen, my tits would grow into firm globes like
hers. Men could suck them, slide their greased dicks between them as I
pressed them together. I'd could kiss the cock heads at the top of their
thrusts, watch them swell and eject their sperm all over my face.

I renewed my vow to be good and fought down the urge to stroke my hard
clit.

I was ready to turn off the light and go back to bed when I finally
noticed the ring. Where my wedding band had been was a small diamond
engagement ring. A stab of sadness knifed me, the grief that'd been cut
off before. I hurriedly flicked off the light, but the emotion wasn't so
easily banished. It clung to me like stale sperm, refusing to allow me to
get back to sl**p.

Mourning my own death was hard. There was no corpse to shed tears over,
nothing to bury so the healing could begin. I lay there until Ellen awoke.
I went through the motions of bathing, dressing, applying my makeup,
fetching and carrying for her on command. If she noticed my

silent anguish, she made no comment.

After I'd done the breakfast dishes, she had me give us both manicures.
She was surly, terse, easily upset. She smoked heavily and her every word
dripped with scorn. Nothing I did was quite good enough. I was extremely
cautious, not wanting to do anything to upset her further. A

sinking feeling was added to my vague sorrow. Something was wrong. She
left me to do my chores and vanished into our bedroom.

It was a little after two in the afternoon when she came downstairs,
dressed to kill in the wet looking black minidress and metal-tipped
stiletto heels. Her makeup and bearing were those of a call girl. I was
nearly finished mopping the kitchen floor. She stood close enough to let
me see that, as before, her shaven cunt was exposed between her mesh hose
and garter belt. I felt plain in my work clothes and minimal makeup.

"I'm going out. I want you to meet me in the airport Hilton bar at
eight. Wear something really slutty, Sheila. There's someone I want you
to meet."

"Are you ..." I swallowed. "Is Ron ..."

"This has nothing to do with Ron, darling. It's strictly for us. But
it's very important - maybe the most important date you'll ever have - so
look your best. Understand?"

I let my eyes fall from her moist pussy back to the vinyl. "Do you have
to go so early? I mean -"

Her smoky laugh was sharp enough to interrupt me. "Is my little fag
bitch scared to be alone? Or just jealous that I may be getting my brains
fucked out while you're doing housework?"

I blushed. "You've never left me by myself before."

"Of course I have, love. At the beauty salon, and right here in this
room. You've spent hours all by yourself. Your chains and ropes are just
invisible now." She stroked my long hair, pulled my head against her belly,
rubbed my cheek over her sleekly covered mons. "Would you like to kiss my
pussy goodbye? Get it nice and moist for the cock that may be in it in a
while?"

I nodded. She planted her feet to either side of my head. I slid the
skirt up and exposed her brown-lipped lower mouth. She rocked up and down
on my tongue and nose until my face was wet with her flow. As I ate her, I
was overcome with desire. She was going out, going to get herself laid for
some mysterious purpose, and I was preparing her for whoever would part
these very lips with a prick. I wondered how often she'd done this sort of
thing without my knowledge. I wondered how many men had fucked her eager
pussy while I watched a stupid football games or stayed late at the office.
I wondered if Ron knew what a slut she was. And, I wondered who she'd
fixed me up with, who'd be fucking my ass or mouth in a few hours - and why
it was so important.

She abruptly jerked her flooded core from my hungry mouth, ending my
lusty reverie. Her voice was low and throaty. "Take off your blouse,
baby. I need to tighten your corset before I leave."

It was the red one. As she strained against the laces, compressing my
waist to at least twenty-two inches, I was already visualizing what I'd
wear to meet her. How many loads of cum would her body have absorbed by
the time I arrived? A sudden thought stopped my impassioned

planning. "How will I get there? To the hotel?"

"A cab, of course. I left twenty dollars on the vanity."

Somehow the idea of taking a taxi was more intimidating than getting
dressed to go fuck some stranger. I tried to hide my nerves, as well as my
shameful excitement. Her crooked scarlet smile told me I failed at both.
She tied off my laces, smoothed her dress to cover as much as it could, and
swayed out without another word. I listened as her metal shod heels
clacked over the floor, silently crossed the carpet, then echoed for a few
strides in the garage. The door ground open. I

watched from the window as she backed down the drive, cigarette dangling
between slick, fat red lips. I saw Jerome Hillyard, our neighbor across
the street, stare open mouthed at the change that'd taken place in her.
Had he done more than stare? Had she fucked him, too? How many of our
neighbors had dipped their wicks in Ellen's hot hole? A lot of them, I
perversely hoped, twisting the engagement band circling my ring finger.

I fought the urge to dash upstairs and begin getting ready. It was too
soon. And Ellen had made it clear that she expected all my work to be done
before I left the house. I compelled myself to settle down and do the
laundry.

I'd barely fixed my lipstick and gotten started when the doorbell rang.
I froze in the midst of loading the dryer with damp lingerie. I couldn't
answer the door! What if it was Jerome, or some other acquaintance? I
couldn't let anybody see me like this! I decided to ignore it, pretend I
wasn't home. But whoever was there leaned insistently on the buzzer.

I peeked from the laundry room window, was simultaneously thrilled and
dismayed to see that it was Ron. I was hesitant to let him in without
Ellen there. He'd want to know where she'd gone, what she was doing. He
was liable to fly into a jealous rage. But he obviously wasn't

going to leave.

Checking my face in the mirror, I fluffed my hair a little and hurried
nervously to the door. I wouldn't let him in. I'd tell him we were busy,
that I'd have Ellen call as soon as she could.

But, the instant I opened the door a crack, he pushed it wider and
stepped past me.

"Ellen's busy," I blurted, hiding behind the door, leaving it open.
"Maybe you should come back -"

"Ellen's gone. I saw the car drive up the block a few minutes ago." He
ambled insolently to the couch and sat down.

"Then what ..." I began, but my voice failed me. Was he here to see me?

"Close the door and come over here, bitch. I've been thinking about
that tight asshole of yours all day. I want another piece of it."

I blushed, both fearful and flattered. I was sure Ellen wouldn't want
him to use me unless she was here to watch. He was her boyfriend, after
all. "I don't think that's a good idea, Ron." I kept the door cracked.

"Oh, come off it, slut! Don't play hard to get. We both know that's
pure bullshit. You know you want it. You let me know last night how much
you liked it. So get your sleazy ass over here. Wrap those hot lips
around my dick and let me fuck that sexy face. If you're real good, I may
even let you jack off while I drill your ass."

He was right, of course. I did want it. I had the instant I saw him
through the window. I vividly remembered how grand it'd been to be filled,
stretched, used like I was a real woman. Honestly, part of his
attractiveness was because he was Ellen's lover. Having the prick that'd
been in her so many times rammed into me made me feel even more weak kneed.
It'd be wicked to fuck him behind her back. But, if I got caught ...

Wickedness won out. Besides, if I resisted, he'd just take me anyway.
What could I do? Call the police and scream ****? Run madly from the
house? I leaned against the door and flipped the deadbolt.

He wasn't into small talk or foreplay. As I approached, both eager and
timid, Ron pointed to the floor between his legs. I sank to my knees,
staring at the growing lump hidden by his shorts. It knew how large it
was, what it tasted like. And this time, I didn't have to share it with
anyone. I was alone with my first man. I was betraying Ellen just like
she had me. I was as big a whore as she was. Saliva began to fill my
mouth.

But I wanted information along with his dick. I wanted to know how
large a role he'd played in changing me into the cock hungry bitch I'd
become in less than a week. So, as I reached out to lightly massage his
cock, I licked my lips and tried to milk him of more than his cum.

"I meant to thank you last night for everything you've done to help
Ellen."

His laugh was brutal. "Jesus. I can't believe you're really into it
this much. How can any man let this happen to him without a fight?"

I slowly lowered his zipper. "I'm not just any man," I told his
swelling groin. "I've always been a wimp. I think I've wanted to be like
this all my life, but never had the courage to admit it. I thought you
knew that."

"Not until Ellen told me about how much you got off on her clothes and
shit."

My hand reached his flesh. It was so warm, so silky. "I wish she'd
told you sooner. How long did you two plan this?"

He drew a harsh breath as I fished his manhood from his underwear and
loose shorts. It was beautiful. It nestled against my curved red nails
like an eager pet begging to be stroked.

"Six months or so, I guess. God, you're sexy. Kiss it, bitch."

I teased the head with my tongue. I wanted the whole thing buried in my
throat, but was enraptured with the power of my situation. Ellen had made
me beg. Ron had, too, the night before. I wanted to turn the tables. He
already wanted me, but I needed him to crave me, to plead with me.

"Tell me about it. It's so exciting, Ron. I want to hear everything."

While I tinted his cock flesh with my brilliant lip color, while I
licked his hairy sack, I prompted him to keep talking.

"I knew the look," he groaned. "Guys have been looking at my dick in
the shower, just the way you did, ever since I was a k**. I knew right off
you were a fag, and couldn't figure out why a gorgeous bitch like Ellen
stayed with you. Ooh, shit. Deeper, baby."

I tried to angle my head, to fit more of him between my bulging lips.
Pink saliva glistened the length of his rod. It felt like my mouth had
been designed to do this. "More," I gasped. "Tell me more."

"Ahh! That's it!" he groaned as my questing lips took more meat,
stretched to reach for his balls. His hips started to rise and fall.
"Ellen laughed when I told her how you looked at me. That's when she
started watching you closer and caught you messing around in her shit. I
told her I thought you'd make a hot looking slut. God, was I ever right!
Oh, yeah! Suck it, baby!"

I was thrilled beyond words when my throat seemed to open and I
swallowed him. My smeared lips nestled at the very root of his prick. I'd
done it! I stayed there, immobile but for my spasming throat and questing
lips, until black motes swam before my eyes and I was compelled to release
him and gasp air. I stared down in astonishment at his glistening eight
inches. I was ready to cum. I resisted the impulse to reach down and
touch myself and rocket into heaven. I wanted this to last. I wanted to
hear more. I was certain I could make him tell me whatever I wanted.

"You wanted me, too," I purred, lapping the length of his staff with my
tongue. "You've always wanted me to suck your cock, haven't you?"

"Yeah. I knew you'd be good. Almost every time I fucked Ellen, I
dreamed of you looking like this, doing this. I wanted to hurry things
along. Your bitch of a wife insisted we had to go slow."

"Umm," I said, taking him half way in then backing off. "Good things
come to those who wait, lover. Am I as good as she is?"

"Better," he growled, grabbing my hair and jerking my head down. Now
that I knew how, I let him impale every wonderful inch into me. "She won't
let me fuck her ass, and deep throat makes her puke."

He humped my mouth until I was afraid I was going to pass out. I had to
struggle free. My voice was raw. I felt crazed by my need for what was
happening. But there was still a glimmer of caginess left in me, as if it
was part of my widening lust. "You can do anything you want

to me. I don't care. The dirtier and nastier, the better. I love
being treated like a cheap whore. Was that your idea, too?"

"Yeah. Nothing turns my crank more than sluts in tight dresses and wild
makeup. The first time I made Ellen dress up for me, I fucked her for four
hours non-stop. I made her cum until she begged me to quit. She loved it,
too. I knew she would. Anybody who wanted to turn her old man into a
fucking woman had to be really twisted. Turns out she couldn't get enough
after that."

I was pumping him with both hands, letting my mouth writhe over the top
half of his erection. I didn't know how much more I could take. My
sphincter muscles were tightening and loosening on my butt plug. My ass
felt moist, more than ready.

"Did you make her fuck other guys? Did you make her dress cheap and
take her out and show her off?"

He was close to losing control. "We went to parties. It was her idea.
But she never hosed anybody else. I wondered if maybe she wanted to, but
it ever happened. I let her flirt, dance, make them hot, then I'd take her
into a bedroom and fuck her stupid. We'd go back and party

some more and my cum would be running down her legs." He struggled up in
the sofa, tried to pry me off his cock. "Has she been fucking around? Has
she?"

"No!" I insisted, kissing just the head of his hard treasure. "Of
course not! You keep her so well fucked, how could she?"

"Have you fucked her, slut? Have you poked that little dick of your
inside her pussy?"

I pulled on his cock and backed away from the sofa. "Not for almost a
month - and never again. I eat her whenever she wants. I can make her cum
with my tongue better than I ever could the other way. Come here, Ron.
I'm so fucking hot. My ass needs you so bad. Fuck me. Please. Fill my
hot little ass with that huge thing. Make me scream. Fuck me hard and
mean and shoot your cum way, way up inside me. Tell me what's going to
happen next, baby."

He stroked himself, staring at me with burning eyes while I wiggled out
of my tight jeans. I'm not even sure he knew he was speaking.

"She going to do like she said. She's going to get you tits. Make you
get a job as a woman. She says she's got friends who can help."

I curled my legs up toward my chest, spread my ass cheeks so he could
see me remove my plug. The sensation of having him watch me readying
myself for him was a thrill as intense as swallowing his entire length had
been. He was so big, so strong. I was weak and small - yet I was in
control.

He leapt toward me, rolled me over onto my stomach. "Wait," I
whispered. "I want this to be good. The best you've ever had, Ron. I want
to make my asshole slick and wet for you. I want to lube myself with my
cum. When you fuck me, it'll be like fucking myself."

I had him hypnotized. I relished having my ass raised for him, peeling
away my retainer, exposing my purpled, lust heavy cock and balls. I knew
something he didn't. He was as gay as I was. He wanted me more than he
ever wanted Ellen. I could have made him suck me, as I had him - but a sly
part of me knew that if I did, I'd lose control of him. He'd be too
sickened by what he'd done to ever be nice to me again. He needed to
believe he was the neighborhood's straight, macho, musclebound hunk. So, I
gripped myself, tickled myself with my long painted nails and teased him
yet more. I bent my rod back and imagined it was sliding up my ass. It
only took a few moments. I gasped, with my inflamed cheek pressed into the
carpet, while I pumped sticky

streams toward my back door and rubbed my sperm into my tender flesh,
dipping my fingers into my loosened asshole, pushing as much cum as I could
inside myself.

My voice was hollow with need. "Do it, Ron. Fuck me. Do it now."

I took him much easier than I had the first time. There was no pain or
chain to distract me. Like my mouth, my ass now seemed designed for cock.
I revelled in the spoils of my seduction, the depth of his hammering
thrusts. I had more power as a woman than I'd ever had as a man. My body
had become a real tool for pleasure. Cindy had given me my retainer in
return for sexual favors and told me how fantastic I was. The man I'd
sucked at the bar had paid me with a drink and cigarettes in return for the
blowjob of his life. I'd wrapped Ron around my painted pinky. I was
beginning to think I might be able to manipulate Ellen, if I was careful.

Ron's pummelling was taking its toll on me. My cock had rehardened.
When I angled my hips just right, it felt like he was fucking the inside of
my overgrown clit. Sharp electric bolts tore through me, and all thoughts
were buried beneath the cascade of sensation. When he howled and filled my
guts with his cream, I jerked and spewed in sympathy. He collapsed atop
me, his mass pinning me to the carpet. Being held and having my neck
kissed between his ragged breaths was

almost as rewarding as being fucked.

"You are one fine lay, cunt," he sighed into my ear. "We'll have to do
this again."

I carefully squeezed my buttocks together, caressing his still buried
dick. "Any time, darling. But right now, I'd better get up and get back
to my housework or Ellen's going to be really pissed."

"Speaking of the queen cunt, what's she up to?"

"She didn't say," I lied. I was protecting her. Ron was obviously
unaware he wasn't her only source of cock. He may or may not have been the
one to awaken in her a taste for tight dresses and heavy makeup, but I was
ninety-nine percent certain that today wasn't her first solo foray into the
world of bar sex. The only reason she hadn't gotten laid the night before
was because she needed to watch me get it so badly.

"Maybe it'd be a good idea not to mention that I dropped by," he said as
he raised his hips, freeing his limp meat with a soft sound that echoed
inside me.

I felt empty. My ass clutched around nothingness. Well, not quite. I
felt his cum oozing from my still opened hole. "Whatever you say, Ron."
Another rush made me shiver. It was almost time to wrap myself in the red
outfit, paint my face as nastily as I knew how, climb in a cab and go to a
hotel bar. I felt hot all over, and eager for Ron to leave.

Luckily, he was ready to go, too. A thought struck me as he rolled me
over for a farewell kiss to my smeared mouth. "Could you do me a little
favor before you go?" I asked him between tastes of his mouth.

"Sure."

"Help me change shoes. I still can't reach my ankles very well when I'm
in my corset." I smiled inwardly. Would Ellen wonder how I'd managed this
trick? "And, while you're here, maybe you could tighten my laces a little.
They seem to have worked loose somehow," I giggled.

I didn't complain that he overdid the tightening a little, reducing my
waist to closer to twenty inches, swelling what little tits I had even
more. After he strapped the towering red heels to my slim ankles, I reached
up and kissed him goodbye, feeling his prick already stirring against my
tiny belly. The fact that I could do that to a man who'd just cum inside
me a few minutes before made me feel very good. I was a foxy little slut.
Everybody who saw me would want me, and I wanted

to be desired, to be lusted after.

So, the instant I locked the door behind my lover, I cleaned up the cum
staining the carpet, but decided to take a risk and forget about my other
tasks, despite the consequences. I had much more important things to take
care of.

10. Chapter - Changes

My heart was hammering wildly by the time the taxi pulled into the
drive. I'd asked the dispatcher to make sure the driver didn't honk, but
apparently he hadn't gotten the word, because he did anyway, long and loud.
The entire neighborhood was alerted, no doubt peeking out their windows to
see what was going on. Horrified, I debated what to do. The cabbie again
leaned on the horn. Waiting was only going to make it worse. I bolted
from the front door, praying I wouldn't be recognized for what I was.

My prayer was ignored. Nosy Jerome, across the street, was plainly
visible, again drop-jawed. First he'd witnessed Ellen's departure, clad in
her skintight black minidress and wearing ten pounds of makeup. Now, some
strange woman - me, her lighter twin - in just as few clothes

and just as much makeup. The proverbial cat was probably out of the
bag.

I was mildly surprised by how little I cared. Unless relocation was in
Ellen's plans, the neighbors would no doubt see much more of me in the
future. I was absolutely determined that my two week vacation would
stretch out to encompass the rest of my life. I settled into the seat

and crossed my legs.

The driver was watching me in the mirror. I favored him with a bright
smile. He apparently wasn't used to picking up women who looked like
streetwalkers in such a respectable part of the city. I knew exactly what
my clinging, flame red dress, shimmering platinum blonde mane, and

gaudy makeup made me look like.

Being outside the house without Ellen was almost s much fun as fucking
without her at my side. I felt free to do whatever I wanted. I teased the
driver to distraction with my legs and lips, pretending I was ignorant of
what I was doing to him. But, when I leaned forward to ask him for a
cigarette, I saw the tent his erection was making in his pants. I toyed
with the idea of sucking him off rather than paying cash for my fare, but I
didn't find him all that attractive, and I wasn't very horny. Besides, I
was already nearly late and didn't want to risk Ellen's wrath.

As it turned out, it wouldn't have mattered a whole lot. I was slowed
by fear the moment I stepped from the cab. This was a very busy place.
Travelers were leaving and arriving as if this hotel was the airport
itself. My newly discovered confidence was shaken by the hustle and

bustle. I tapped into the bar, feeling scrutinized by thousands of
eyes. It was packed, of course. I scanned the tables and barstools
nervously and found no sign of Ellen. No tables were vacant, although by
the looks I was getting, I could have joined any number of solo males. I
opted for the view a seat at the bar would give me.

I stood out radically in the somberly dressed mob. The dim light didn't
seem to dull my screaming red dress, and I felt like my long silver-blonde
tresses reflected every bit of available light. For the first time since
Ellen had left, I missed her. Had she been there at my side, I'd have
revelled in the attention that saturated me. Instead, I felt vulnerable,
exposed - and scared.

I spent the last of my twenty dollars on a glass of wine. I wouldn't
have had to, of course. There was very little I'd have ever had to buy for
myself, dressed like that in a hotel bar. While that notion thrilled me
more than a little, it did nothing to banish my uneasiness. Where was
Ellen?

I rebuffed three thinly veiled offers of "a drink or something," and my
rejections earned me a little space. Apparently, I wasn't the readily
available bar girl I appeared, they must have reasoned. My self-confidence
began to return. But the fourth voice in my ear startled me when the man
it belonged to called me by name.

"You must be Sheila," came the gutturally accented baritone.

I stared for a long, uncomfortable moment. He was tall and thin, with a
mop of unkempt blondish hair. He slouched and his tie was crooked, making
his suit look too expensive for him.

If I'd been able to maintain the mood Ron left me in, feeling as brazen
as my outfit, I'd have smiled provocatively and come back with something
witty. Instead, I blurted, "Where's Ellen?" acting as

insecure as I felt.

His smile was mysterious. At least I was able to identify his accent as
Germanic. "I am Hans. Ellen is upstairs in a meeting and has asked you to
join us." He performed one of those silly little stiff continental
half-bows and offered me his arm.

Upstairs meant a hotel room. My throat tightened and my clit gave a
little lurch. I stood, nervously smoothed my skirt, and tried to take his
elbow like I'd been doing it all my life. It was a curiously pleasing
sensation to be e****ted so formally back through the bar and lobby toward
the elevators. My mind was spinning. Meeting? What exactly did that
mean? It was an odd term, applied to Ellen the way she'd acted when she
left me that afternoon. The only business she'd

acted capable of transacting was on her back with her legs flung wide.

I was staggered. Literally. Hans gave me a concerned look as he pushed
the call button. I feigned a reassuring smile. Was that it? Was Ellen
selling her cunt? The conversation in the bar in the mall replayed itself.
The one about her cigarettes. What if, she'd said, she'd been dressing and
making herself up like that and "going out" for six months - about the time
she and Ron had hatched their plot. I'd assumed then that she'd been
trying to hurt me. While I'd sucked Ron's

dick, I'd imagined that there'd been some truth to her hypothetical
statement, that he'd uncovered in her a desire to look and act like a
tramp. But I hadn't imagined she'd actually whore herself. Surely, I'd
have known. Ruefully, I admitted that I hadn't known anything about my
wife until a week ago.

The dinging arrival of the elevator jolted me from my reverie. In the
close confines of the metal box, my e****t smelled of liquor and tobacco. A
quick craving for a cigarette grabbed me.

Speaking took effort. "Excuse me, Hans. May I have a cigarette?"

They were imported. He made no comment about the no smoking sign as he
lit it for me. The lighter was an ornate gold thing that matched the case
in which he kept his tobacco. It was harsh and oddly satisfying. My
lipstick was almost invisible against the dark brown paper.

I kept my voice going. "Uh, what kind of 'meeting' is this?"

He nodded, frowning slightly, as if confirming something. "As I
thought, she hasn't discussed this with you. Your friend has been in
contact with myself and several of my colleagues for a number of months."
His voice registered deep disapproval.

Ellen had introduced herself as my friend? To discuss what? Instead of
asking those questions, I quickly reassured him. "She and I are very
close. I'm sure she meant this as a surprise."

His expression softened. "In that case, perhaps I have said too much?"

I squeezed his bicep, gave him a soft smile. "It'll be our secret."

His thin lips curved upwards and his eyes more or less politely measured
by body. "As you wish. I must say, you seem quite well adjusted."

I felt myself pale. He knew about the secret between my legs. I was
confused. Should I feel betrayed or flattered? I took smoke very
carefully to cover my embarrassment. The elevator door opened at the top
floor. Again I accepted his arm. The far wall of the hall was mirrored. I
saw an extremely sexy little blonde woman, clad in fuck-me red, on the arm
of a tall thin man. She was gorgeous, in a brazen way, but her visible
discomfort was spoiling her desirability.
Angry at myself, I hugged my e****t's arm more tightly, deliberately
pressed my thigh to his as we walked down the hall. He squeezed my arm and
smiled. He knew, but he didn't mind being close to me. Was he the
"special friend" I was to meet? Was I being nice enough to him? And,

above all, was he going to fuck me? If Ellen was whoring herself, was
she going to sell my holes to this man and his "colleagues?" My belly
hollowed, not entirely with fear.

I was anticipating a sordid scene as Hans turned to face a door and
swung it open. My throat was tight. Would the room be filled with men?
Maybe I'd see Ellen on her hands and knees, sucking one cock while being
fucked by another, or ...

What I was presented with was even more shocking. Ellen sat at the head
of a table with three men. They were examining papers, not her pussy. Her
makeup and hair weren't mussed. I felt a shameful stab of disappointment.
She glanced up from what she was reading, and the room fell silent as all
eyes focused on me.

They weren't the kind of looks I was growing accustomed to. They were
cold, clinical, examining me more like a side of beef than a target of
lust. I felt like a fool. Ellen had set me up, led me to believe that I
was coming here to get laid - and I'd eagerly leapt at the chance to

open my orifices to whoever wanted them.

A blast of raw sanity ripped through me. I saw myself as I was, for the
first time in days. I wasn't a woman. I was a married male with a dark,
newly revealed, twisted taste for cock. I was a sham, a parody, a pathetic
joke. My sickness had filled me. I'd given myself over to it. I'd
embraced my depravity, wanting to believe I'd had no choice. I'd lied to
myself all the way along. If I'd really wanted to, I could have resisted
Ellen's dominance and torture. I'd had more

opportunities than I could count to stubbornly say no, to insist that
this charade end. I hadn't, purely because I'd craved every last moment of
what had happened to me. I'd needed the excuses her coercion provided.

All this in one of those wordless insights that take up such a paltry
amount of clock time, yet change everything. Ellen was just beginning to
part her lips and introduce me. Her associates, or whatever they were, had
yet to complete their scan of me. In that mere instant, I'd shed my slutty
horniness and was wallowing in full-blown despair.

A strange numbness kept the scene at a distance. It was like I was
floating somewhere near the ceiling, emotionlessly observing what was going
on below as if it was happening to someone else. I mechanically took the
chair Hans held for me. I saw my legs cross, felt the casual smile on my
lips. Shouldn't I be crying, I remember wondering, almost idly? I sensed
that this was probably one of the most critical moments of my life and was
astonished by the feeling of peace enveloping me.

They were all European physicians specializing in various aspects of
gender re-assignment. Ellen had sought them out months before. They were
there to assess me. If I passed their examinations, I was to become a
woman.

In my altered state of consciousness, I felt no qualms, no hesitation. I
basked in the glow of Ellen's proud smile. Yes, I quietly insisted, this
is what I wanted, with all my heart. No, there was no chance I'd regret
such a momentous decision. I was committed. No, I didn't need

the traditional year of living in female guise to be sure. I was ready,
right then.

The interview took three gruelling hours. Two of the doctors had mild
reservations, but I swayed the other two, Hans and a younger Frenchman man
named Jordan. I didn't, of course, leap on an airplane and fly to Denmark
to have my cock made into a cunt, although nothing would have made me
happier. There were arrangements to be made - and finances to be arranged.
It was agreed, though, that I'd receive breast implants in the near future.

Ellen invited them to stay for drinks. Jordan and Hans accepted, and
Ellen called room service while I stepped into the suite's bedroom to
freshen up. As I touched up my face, I began to exit the trance-like state
I'd been wrapped in, and the reality of my choice took hold. It wasn't
fear that emerged, but excitement. A shiver rippled through me as I stared
at the pale flesh of my cleavage and the twin swells below. In ten days,
my corset would embrace living flesh, not molded latex. I could flaunt
them with even deeper necklines. Men could suck them, pinch them, slide
their pricks between them.

My sharp, curved nails worked my false nipples and my real ones
stiffened in sympathy. The thrill settled in, became heat. When the door
opened and Ellen slid through, I was still standing before the mirror,
seeing myself as I was to become. In my mind, I was already a woman, not a
cross-dressed fag slut.

She walked up behind me, encircled my waist with her arms, and hugged
me. I settled against her with a sigh, nestled my head in the cup of her
shoulder, feeling the softness of her tit against my neck.

"You liked my little surprise?" she whispered.

I nodded, nuzzling her tit.

"Would you like to thank Jordan and Hans for their kindness?"

My belly hollowed. "Do you think they'd like that?"

"That's why they stayed, darling."

"To fuck me?"

"To fuck both of us."

She was right. For the first time, I experienced the delirious pleasure
of giving a blow job while having my ass filled, and watching Ellen receive
identical treatment. The only thing about the following hours I didn't
enjoy was being stripped of my corset, having my distinctly masculine body
made love to by Jordan. I hid behind my long silver hair, stared at my
lovely hands while he fucked my ass, cursing hoarsely in French.

They left us around three a.m. I fell asl**p in the hotel room bed,
curled in Ellen's arms, after lapping every bit of cum I could reach from
her pussy and ass and mouth. I was more content than I knew I could be.
Three man had enjoyed my body that day. All of them had known everything
there was to know about me, and lusted after me anyway. As I sank into
sl**p, I dimly realized that for the first time I was completely unashamed
of what I was.

I awoke disoriented. It took a few seconds to realize where I was. The
bed beside me was empty, but the faint sound of the shower emanating from
the bathroom told me where Ellen was. I stretched, relishing the faint
soreness of my ass. I'd been penetrated there four times, had wildly
humped the men riding me, and felt almost no distracting discomfort. I
fingered myself. My hole was loose and moist. I was ready for more. I
rolled to my feet and padded in to join Ellen in the shower. There wasn't
a cock in the room, so I settled for a pussy, backing my companion into a
corner of the stall, eating her until her knees went weak and she tried to
pull my entire

head into her slit.

I felt so beautiful as I dressed and made myself up that I was almost in
tears. I wanted everyone to know. I wanted to be stared at, desired,
seduced. Ellen's mood was much more reserved, but I barely noticed. I
felt free, in an all new way. I was ecstatically aware, as we made our way
back to the car, of the wide sway of my ass and the bounce of my tits. I
was totally at ease with the way my every move was watched, and easily met
the eyes of those staring at me.

I didn't catch Ellen's anger until we were well on our way home, and
even then she had to slap me with it.

"You're nothing but a fucking tramp," she spat with venom after I'd
favored another driver with a wide red smile.

I was shocked by the depth of her rage. I studied the floorboard. "I'm
sorry. I just feel -"

"Nothing to be sorry about, bitch. You are what you are. Actually, I'm
pleased. It'll make what we have to do a lot easier if I don't have to
f***e you." She didn't sound pleased.

I drew on my cigarette, nervously rubbed at the lipstick on the filter.
"What do we have to do?" I asked very quietly.

Her laugh was a harsh bark. "We have to make a lot of money for your
surgery."

I stared blankly at her for a moment, then looked out the window. I
didn't want her to see my smile. There weren't many ways to raise the
three thousand dollars we needed in ten days. I was going to be a very
busy girl for a while. The only question in my mind was if she was going
to whore herself on bar stools beside me. I hoped so. I really liked
sharing with her.

End
... Continue»
Posted by klammer 1 year ago  |  Categories: Anal, BDSM, Shemales  |  Views: 4051  |  
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The Surprise Vacation




The Surprise Vacation



1. Chapter - Innocent Beginnings

"Did you take your vitamin, dear?" Ellen called from the bathroom.

I rubbed sl**p from my eyes and picked up the pill bottle, rolling a big
tablet into my palm. "My horse pill? I'm doing it now."

"Have you noticed any difference yet?"

"Nah. Vitamins are pretty much all alike." She'd gone on a minor health
kick a month before, insisting that I needed to lose a little weight and
take better care of myself. I hadn't actually made it to the gym to work
out like she was though.

"Where's my underwear honey?" I asked my wife, poking through my almost
empty drawer. It was Saturday morning. I had noticed that my underwear
had been disappearing from my drawer over the last couple of weeks. I
thought nothing of it, figuring that she'd simply been too busy to do
laundry.

"Something went wrong with the washing machine and it ruined everything
in the last load," she said.

"Well, what am I going to wear?"

She emerged from the bathroom, dipped into her side of the dresser.
"Here, put these on," she smiled, handing me a pair of her pink satin
panties. "Now don't give me any fake macho bullshit. I know you love
wearing my panties. In fact, I know you've secretly worn this very pair
before."

I looked at her dumfounded. I thought that I'd successfully hidden my
fetish from her. I'd been so careful.

"C'mon, let's put these on you,"she teased. I was beet red as I numbly
stepped into them and let her pull them up to my hips. She stroked my cock
through the fabric, a lot like I often did. "Mmmm, I see that someone
finds this exiting. We may have to keep it like that." I wasn't sure what
she meant by that remark, but was too embarrassed to ask. I hurriedly put
the rest of my clothes on, jeans and a T-shirt. She gave me a slightly
disapproving look and said, "Well, I need take you shopping and get some
new underwear for you, among other things."

I said, "Can't you just pick up some for me? I want to look at that
washing machine and watch the football game."

Since she absolutely despises football, this would normally have set her
off on a tirade, but surprisingly, she just smiled sweetly and said, "Don't
worry about the washer. I fixed it myself. Go ahead and enjoy your
football honey. I'll get everything you need."

So while she was shopping, I lay on the couch stroking myself through
the panties, embarrassed that my wife knew of my fetish, but relieved that
she seemed so low key about it. The game turned out to be pretty boring
and I thought about raiding her closet for something else to wear, but now
that she knew, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I ended up
taking a nap. I woke up when she came home, loaded with bags from various
stores. I started to get up to help.

"Just stay there, I'll put everything away. What do you say that we go
out for dinner?"

"That sounds like a good idea."

"Great. But first, I have a surprise for you. Stand up and close your
eyes." I remembered that teasing look, that flirtatious tone. We hadn't
played sex games in a long time. In fact, we hadn't done anything sexual
in a long time. With a smile, I stood and did as she asked. The next
thing I knew, she pulled my hands behind my back and locked them with a
pair of handcuffs!

"What's this all about?"

"No comments from the peanut gallery," she said as she put some sort of
gag in my mouth.

Whatever it was filled up my whole mouth, all the way to the top of my
throat! As I explored it with my tongue, I realized that it was a penis
gag. What was going on?

"Now come along peacefully, or I'll have to take further steps." With
that I followed her into the bathroom. She took my hands and tied a strap
to them and pulled it up to the shower curtain, forcing me to bend over at
the waist. She then took a pair of scissors and proceeded to cut my
clothes off, ruining jeans I could have just stepped out of. It was all
pretty kinky, even for Ellen's sometimes bizarre moods, but except for the
embarrassment of having something shaped like a penis in my mouth, it
seemed harmless.

"You won't be needing those anymore," she said, tossing the rags that
had been my jeans and tee-shirt down the laundry chute.

She then took some shaving cream and a razor and proceeded to shave
every bit of hair below my eyebrows. I definitely didn't like the turn
things were taking, but fighting her while she stroked my most private
parts didn't seem like a good idea - and there wasn't a whole lot I

could do about it, anyway.

"I think that since you like wearing panties so much, you should have
the experience of everything else that goes along with it," she explained
as she worked over my underarms. "You'll find that all of your old clothes
have been replaced with something more suitable for your new station. I
think that about does it. Step in the shower and let's rinse you off."

There was nothing I could do except slide the strap down the bar and
step under the water. I was bewildered. Surely she hadn't really thrown
out all my clothes! As she rinsed all of the hairy soap off of my body, my
skin felt strange, tingly and oddly alive. She spent more time on my
weirdly naked penis, making it swell again. She patted me dry all over
with a big, soft towel and spread skin conditioner all over me, dwelling on
my semi-hard penis.

"Well that looks much better, but we'll have to do something about your
figure. That waistline will never do. You haven't been losing enough
weight, darling. Follow me and we'll take care of it."

As we walked into the bedroom, I saw some clothes laid out on the bed.
There was a corset, panties, stockings, and a short dress. She began to
put the corset on me, and said, "Your arms are in the way." With that, she
reached into one of the bags and pulled out a leather collar. She then put
some leather cuffs on my wrists, unlocked the metal ones, and quickly
hooked my hands behind my head to the collar.

This was starting to get too weird. Our sex games had died out a year
or so before. I'd known she was curious about bondage and stuff, but had
laid down the law and said no. I tried to talk around the thing in my
mouth, but she ignored me. I was able to offer only token

resistance as my arms were asl**p and numb from being pulled up and back
for so long. Next, she started hooking up the corset and pulling the laces
in behind me. Soon I couldn't breathe and still she was tightening the
laces.

"Is that uncomfortable? Too bad. It'll give you incentive to lose that
extra weight you've been ignoring, won't it?" With a final savage jerk, she
finished adjusting the laces with a full knot. "I think you'll have an
interesting time trying to untie that by yourself."

I silently agreed. It was more like being in a straight jacket than
lingerie. But there was an illicit thrill to it, despite my deepening
worry that she was going way too far with her fun.

"Now let's put some panties on you. Which pair would you like? You
don't care? That's no way for a lady to show interest in her appearance. I
guess we'll try this new pair of pink satin ones I bought you. Now you
don't have to steal mine, love. Oh, my! You really look cute in them."

Next came a set of latex breast forms which she teasingly placed in the
corset's half cups to fill out my chest. After that she rolled some
stockings up each leg, hooked them to the garters on the corset, and
smoothed them out. She quickly admired her work while I tried not to, too
embarrassed for words, even if the gag hadn't been in my mouth.

"Let's see how this dress I picked out for you fits." With that she
picked up a shimmery peach colored dress and worked it over the tangle of
my head and arms. As it fell over my breasts and hips it came down to only
mid-thigh.

She looked at me with a grin on her face and said, "Don't you look
adorable! You'll have to be very careful and ladylike when you sit or bend
over or the world will see your garters and panties. Only a slut would act
like that. If you act like a slut, I'll have to treat you like one."

What did she mean by 'the world will see you?' I didn't like the
implications in that statement.

"Step into these shoes," she said with the air of command, as she placed
a pair of matching peach shoes with about a 3-1/2 in heel on the floor.

I'd rarely dared to play with her high heels. They were a little too
tight, but the real reason I usually avoided them was because they awoke in
me a shame powerful enough to counterbalance the excitement of cross
dressing. I found it was tremendously difficult to keep my balance with my
hands fastened behind my neck.

"Now it's time for your makeup. I'm going to remove the gag, but I
don't want to hear a single word or I'll put it back in and leave it there
for a whole day." Ellen gave me a look that indicated she clearly meant it.

Well, I figured, we've gone this far, so why fight it. Besides,
cosmetics were another thing I'd never had the guts to try, and I'd often
fantasized about how I'd look. She spent the next thirty minutes
completing my makeup, going through foundation, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and
mascara, adding a light blush, and finishing with a bright, deep rose
lipstick. She topped it off with a light brown shoulder length wig.

"Now you can look at yourself," she said as she led me to a mirror.

I couldn't believe it! A beautiful girl looked back at me. If she was
alone in a bar, every guy in there would hit on her. The dress had a
scooped front almost to my breast forms, which were ample. It also showed
a very flattering figure. No wonder I couldn't breathe. Looking at the
reflection in the mirror, the hemline seemed even shorter, at least six
inches above my knees.

I heard a soft "click." I turned around, and my wife was taking pictures
of me!

"You can't admire yourself all day, sweetie. We've got a busy afternoon
and evening ahead of us."

My heart sank. She was really going to f***e me to go out dressed like
this! I started to speak, wanting to talk her out of it, but she picked up
the cock-shaped gag and moved ominously toward me. I shut up. With that,
my wife changed into a plain dress and fluffed her hair, not even bothering
to use any makeup on herself, which was unusual. She noted my confusion
and said, "I don't want to steal any of the attention you deserve, honey."

She clipped a leash to my collar and led me to the garage. As she
opened the passenger door, I began to fight her. "Honey what are you
trying to -"

She pushed me off balance, which wasn't hard, and stuffed the gag back
in my mouth, immediately strapped it behind my head. "I warned you! Now
you'll have to pay the price for disobedience!" She pushed me again and I
fell into the passenger seat. She buckled the seat belt.

Bound as I was, with my hands behind my head, there was no way I could
do anything but go along.

As she drove us away, she said, "I know you're dying of curiosity,
sweetie, wondering what this is all about. It's simple really. I noticed
about six months ago that my clothes and lingerie had been rearranged
almost every time you're home and I'm not. I started carefully marking my
hangers and drawers to confirm my suspicions, and I can name every time you
snuck into something sexy and even tell you what you wore. Really, I don't
mind, honey. In fact, it really turns me on. So I'm going to make sure
that you live your fantasy to the fullest. It's really perfect, because MY
fantasy is to dominate my husband completely and I'm going to act that out,
too."

I couldn't believe it! She must have caught on almost the very first
time I gave in to the impulse to see if silky feminine clothes felt as
wonderful as they looked. Well, the first time since I was a k**, anyway.

"I've arranged for you to take a two week surprise vacation starting
Monday. Your boss thinks that we're going on a cruise." She giggled. "In
a way, we are, aren't we? For the next two weeks, you're going to live
entirely as a female and follow my every command. If you give me

any shit at all, I'll send those pictures of you admiring yourself to
your boss and secretary. I think they'd get a good laugh from them, don't
you? To get you ready for our little adventure, we're going to the mall to
do some shopping for your vacation."

I kept hoping it was all a joke. That any moment she'd turn the car
around, laughing at how she'd scared me, and we'd play for a while in bed,
then it'd be over. But my guts were cold. I couldn't talk myself into
believing it'd happen that way. I knew she was dead serious. As we pulled
into the mall parking lot she said, "In case you're having any thoughts
about running away, remember that you don't have any car keys, wallet or
money. If you don't do exactly as I say, I'll leave you here to get back
on your own."

She was right! Trying to get home without her, dressed like this,
wasn't an option. I couldn't even think of hitchhiking. Cold sweat popped
out on my brow as I realized that I was stuck. I had to do what she said.
I didn't even want to think of what her plans were.

2. Chapter - The Mall

I was terrified. There I was, tied into my car seat, dressed as a woman
from high heels to wig, with my wrists handcuffed to a leather collar
around my neck, for all the world to see. And my wife had driven me to the
shopping mall to shop for clothes to complete my wardrobe. I wanted to cry
out in frustration and terror, but there was a penis-shaped gag buried in
my throat. The excitement I'd felt at home was long gone.

After she stopped the car in the parking lot, she turned to me and
unlocked the collar, cuffs, and removed the gag from my mouth. "Now, can I
trust you to behave in here, or will I have to really embarrass you? And
by behave I mean do everything I say without question."

With a numb feeling in my stomach I said, "Yes honey, I'll be good."

"Wonderful! I know we're going to have a marvelous time."

With that, she made me fix the lipstick the gag had smeared, and showed
me how to powder my sweaty forehead. We got out of the car and walked into
the mall. The heels caused my hips to sway noticeably. I did my best to
minimize it.

She looked at me with a grin and said, "My, aren't we calling attention
to ourselves!" and laughed merrily. "Our first stop is at the beauty
parlor. We don't have that much time, so today we'll just touch up your
makeup and do your nails. Your hair can wait until tomorrow. I've already
made an appointment for you."

The voyage through the crowded mall was tremendously humiliating. I
kept waiting for someone to recognize me, or see through the disguise my
wife had applied and sneer at a man in a short dress and makeup. It was
almost a relief to near the beauty shop. While I didn't draw any

of the disgusted looks I was afraid of, I got way too much attention,
and the appreciative smiles were almost worse than mockery would have been.

We walked into the parlor, and she talked to the receptionist. "Hello.
I called earlier for a 'special appointment' for Sheila."

A pretty brunette overheard and approached. "Hi! I'm Cindy and
everything is ready. Follow me please." She led us past the filled
stations into a back room. "Please have a seat here." I looked at the
chair and then my wife with some misgivings.

"SIT DOWN! You heard what the lady said!" my wife commanded and shoved
me into the chair. Before I could recover, she pulled two velcro lined
straps out of her purse and quickly strapped my arms to the armrests,
rendering me completely helpless. "Now sit there quietly, or I'll have to
take further steps."

The stylist was trying, though not very hard, to cover a big smirk on
her face.

"Go ahead and start on her. I don't think she'll give you any trouble.
How long do you think this will take?"

"For everything you asked for, about an hour and a half."

"Good, I'll be back then. I've got some shopping to do. If she gives
you any trouble, feel free to take whatever action you think is
appropriate." She then walked out of the store, leaving me alone with the
stylist.

"You aren't going to make any trouble, are you?" she teased.

I shook my head no, not trusting my voice. Sounding like a man would've
been too embarrassing, and I'd feel like a fool if I tried a false woman's
voice.

"Too bad. I think I'd enjoy disciplining and humiliating you. You're
obviously into it. Maybe I should see if my boyfriend would look as good
as you do dressed up."

That definitely made me decide not to resist - as if I could have
anyway. I did my best to ignore her flattery, too. The last thing I wanted
to do was look too much like a woman.

"Debbie here is going to do your nails, and I'll be giving you a light
makeover. Your lady friend made a separate appointment for your hair for
tomorrow." She turned her attention to my face and began working me over as
Debbie began my nails.

Sixty minutes later, she was still working on my face, and Debbie had
mockingly told me to remove my hose so she could do my toenails. The bands
around my wrists made that impossible, of course, and I cringed as the girl
touched me and did it herself. I kept my eyes closed, unable to face the
changes being made to me. The worst part was having my eyebrows plucked
into shape. How could I hide that when the "vacation" was over?

"This is a 'light' makeover?" I wondered to Cindy in a safe whisper,
trying to joke. "How long does it take for a complete job?" I really
didn't want to know.

At that moment my wife walked in with a shopping bag. "How are we
coming? Oh, she looks just darling!" she said as she grinned at me. She
then bent over and admired my bright red toenails. Confirming that Debbie
was finished, she rolled my hose part way up and began digging

through a huge shopping bag.

"What are you doing, honey?" I asked in a meek, gender neutral voice.

"Oh, I didn't think that those shoes were flattering enough, so I
dropped into the Wild Pair to find you something prettier. I know you're
just dying to wear them, but with that corset on I don't imagine you can
bend over far enough to strap them on."

That was an understatement! While I'd gotten used to taking shallow
breaths in the corset, there was no way I could bend that far down. I
couldn't see what the shoes looked like from the angle I was sitting in the
chair, but I could tell they had a much higher heel than the other set.

"There!" Cindy announced proudly. "That about finishes you. How are
you coming, Debbie?"

"Just a few minutes to let the last coat dry." After about five very
uncomfortable minutes of listening to girl talk, she said, "That about does
it. Let's stand up and have a look at you."

My wife then removed the velcro straps, freeing me from the chair. I
stood up and almost fell. I looked down at my shoes. They were a pair of
cream ankle straps with at least a five inch heel. I could barely stand in
them. It was amazing what a difference an inch and a half made. I then
looked in the mirror, for the first time, and almost didn't recognize
myself. The person standing there was a short, truly beautiful, entirely
feminine woman staring back at me with wide,

shocked, expertly made up eyes! Her skin looked perfectly smooth and
her lips were strikingly highlighted. I reflexively raised my hands to my
face, not believing what I was seeing, and then noticed my nails. One full
inch long and a deep liquid red - exactly the color of my skillfully
painted lips and toes.

My wife smiled approvingly at me and said, "Don't they look lovely,
Sheila?"

"Y ... Yes," I stammered, too shocked to lie. "They're beautiful. I
can't believe it!"

As she paid Cindy and we turned to go, she said, "By the way, I asked
her to use a permanent set on the nails. You won't be able to remove
them."

I looked down at my hands in shock. How could you hide nails like that?
What would I do at the end of the two weeks? I knew enough about it to
realize that even if I cut them off, they'd be unnaturally thick.

"Let's go, Sheila, we've got plenty still to do. Now it's time for some
clothes shopping. With a gorgeous bod and sexy face like you have, we have
to get you some 'hot' outfits to match."

I slowly emerged from my state of shock, and wished I hadn't. I was
drawing even more attention now. The way men were staring at me left no
doubt as to their thoughts. I stayed as close to Ellen as I could as she
slowly toured store fronts.

Our first stop was "The Body Shop." My wife had me try on countless
outfits in the dressing room. It was sheer torture, climbing into and out
of one revealing outfit after another. I was horrified of being recognized
and arrested for this perversion. She ended up picking out a short black
leather skirt with matching bustier, and a white satin minidress with a
deeply scooped neckline. Then she made me pay for the items with my
American Express Card - with my real name on it! The sales clerk gave me a
shocked look and then a big smirk. My face turned beet red from
embarrassment. My slim hand shook as I tried to grip the pen and sign the
sales slip with my too long nails.

We went from store to store for about two more endless hours. I must
have tried on forty outfits and purchased at least a dozen. My ribs were
killing me from the constant pressure of the corset and my feet ached from
walking and standing in those incredible heels.

"Here we go. One last stop," my wife said as we turned into another
boutique. "Why don't you have a seat for a couple of minutes."

She didn't have to tell me twice. I was exhausted. I sat in the chair
she indicated, relieved to get a load off of my feet. I carefully smoothed
my hemline as I sat down (I'd learned this lesson the hard way through some
embarrassing comments and looks from other shoppers). I was so tired, I
didn't know what store I was in, and really didn't care. I let my eyes
close.

One of the clerks came up behind me and said, "Just sit still now."
There was a sudden, intense burning sensation in my right ear. My eyes
leapt open, and I tried to get up. She held my head firmly with one hand
and said, "Just a few seconds. Hold still." The sharp pain was

repeated in the other ear. She then rubbed both with some alcohol and
fiddled with each ear for a few seconds. "There, that does it. You can
get up now."

I stood up and looked in the mirror. She had pierced my ears and placed
a little gold ball in each of them! What would I do at the at the end of
two weeks? Those holes in my ears were going to take a long time to heal
over.

"Okay, that finishes us here. It's time for us to go home and get ready
to go out tonight."

With that, we walked back towards the car - slowly, because I was f***ed
to take such mincing steps in the tall shoes.

As we got into the car I turned and said, "Honey, this is ridiculous.
Look at my hands! I can't -"

She slapped me hard on the cheek, staggering me. She immediately pulled
out a pair of handcuffs, put them on me, and secured them behind me to the
headrest, making me completely helpless.

"I can see that you need a lesson to show you that I mean business.
When I'm finished with you, you're going to beg me to dress you up, take
you out, and make you look as pretty and sexy as possible! We both know
that you've secretly dreamed about this. Well it's happening and there's
not a damned thing you can do to stop it! The sooner you realize that
you're no longer in control of what happens to you, the happier you'll be!"

"But honey," I whined, "don't you think that this's a little -"

She rammed the gag back in my mouth. "What were you saying dear? I
didn't catch it? Oh well, I guess it wasn't very important."

We pulled away from the mall with me helpless in the passenger seat,
thankful that the tinted windows offered me a little protection from casual
observation.

As I began to look around me I realized that this was not the way home.
Where was she taking me now?

She noticed me squirming and looking around and said, "Don't know where
we're going? Well, as much as you deserve to be humiliated more in public,
that'll have to wait. I just have to pick something up."

My relief quickly turned to chagrin as we stopped and I looked at where
we were. It was a shop entitled "Exotic Leather Goods."

"I need to grab a few things to ensure that you learn your lesson
properly. Don't do anything naughty while I'm gone."

So there I was, tied into the passenger seat for any passers by to see,
trapped in a feminine appearance and clothing with an artificial penis
filling my mouth. Now that we'd stopped, the tinted windows weren't nearly
dark enough.

Suddenly, I saw a man approaching, walking towards the car. He was
casually looking at each of them as he passed by. Would he notice me
through the window? My heart was racing a mile a minute. Just as it
looked as if he would pass right by, he stopped and did a double take. HE
SAW ME! He stood there looking in the window for at least a full minute
with a big grin on his face while I tried to become invisible. Just about
that time my wife came up to the car with a bag in her hand.

"Enjoying the view?" she casually asked the man.

"Sure am, honey," he replied with a leer. "Do you always keep her tied
up like that?" He thought I was a real woman!

"She prefers it that way," my wife laughed. "She's my display model.
Feel free to look all you want, but don't touch."

The man kept up his lewd stare while Ellen loaded her purchases. He
waved gaily, still laughing, as he walked away. With that she got in
started the car. As she drove us home, she said, "I was planning to take
you out for a nice dinner and dancing tonight, but you obviously

don't deserve a reward like that yet. So, instead I'm going to teach
you a lesson in obedience. When I'm through with you, you'll beg me to
dress you up in sexy outfits so you can show off."

b*****r, was I in trouble. I was afraid to even think of what my
"lesson" would be. I was sure that it would not be pleasant, but I knew
there was no way she could make good on her promise that I'd want her to
expose me publicly.

Finally, we pulled into the garage. My wife leaned over and connected
my wrist cuffs to the collar. After that she disconnected my hands from
the headrest, giving me no chance to get free. She then reached into her
big purse, pulled out a leash, and connected it to the collar. Getting her
bag, my wife got out of the car and came around to my door. I still could
not move because I was strapped in by the seat belt. She unhooked it and
gave a tug on the leash.

"Come along now, Sheila," she ordered as we walked into the house. We
stopped in the kitchen.

"The first thing we need to work on is this tendency of yours to talk
back and question everything I say. After all, I can't keep that gag in
your mouth all the time. Unless, of course, you like the feel of something
shaped like a cock in your throat."

I shook my head violently.

"Well then, you need to show me that you can behave. Believe me, I hate
keeping that beautiful mouth of yours gagged all the time. There are so
many better uses for it."

Having said that she pulled what looked like a leather sleeve with some
laces running down the length out of the bag of things she'd just bought.
She then walked out of the room for a few seconds and returned with several
pieces of rope. She unlocked the wrist cuffs and had me

put my hands behind my back. She then secured them with the hands
facing.

Next, she picked up the sleeve and slid it up my arms, securing it with
some straps in front of my shoulder, guaranteeing that it would not come
off. Then she began tightening the laces, straightening my arms and
pulling my elbows together until they were about four inches apart.

It hurt like hell and f***ed me to pull my shoulders back and arch my
back to accommodate the position of my arms. My arms and shoulders began
to ache almost immediately.

"My, aren't you the brazen little slut!" she laughed as she looked at
me. I had to admit that the way my back was arched did throw out my chest,
emphasizing my big breasts. Next, she took a long length of rope, tied it
to a ring on the sleeve below my hands and ran it to a hook in the ceiling.
That ring! She'd had me put that in the ceiling last week to hold a heavy
planter. How long had she been planning this? A tug on the rope brought
me back to the present. As she pulled on the rope, it f***ed me to bend at
the waist while she pulled my arms towards the ceiling. Tying the rope off
onto a doorknob, she commented, "There, that should keep you. Comfy?"

Hardly! I was still in those ridiculous heels and this position f***ed
all of my weight onto my toes, which were already in agony. Adding to
this, the bent over position made the corset so tight that I was gasping
for breath in tiny pants. I felt like I was going to pass out.

The next thing I knew she was pulling my dress up over my waist,
exposing my pantied bottom. Then she pulled the panties down around my
ankles.

"Are you ready for your first punishment?"

I had no way to say no, of course.

She fumbled around in the bag. When I looked, she had pulled out a
leather paddle. There was no doubt what her intended target was. Bound as
I was, there was also not a single thing that I could do about it.

SMACK! She connected right on my bare ass with a stinging blow. "I
think that fifty good ones is about right for talking back to your
mistress, don't you?"

SMACK! She continued. After about twenty, I lost all control and was
crying like a baby. Each stroke seemed to sting more than the one before
it. Finally, she reached fifty. My entire behind felt like it was on
fire. She then pulled the panties up and pulled my hem down again.

"That was just your first punishment. I told you that you would never
forget this lesson. I'll be back in a little while. I'm going to take a
shower and rest a bit. My arms are tired. Don't go anywhere."

Her arms were tired! At my ass and thigh's expense! I stood there,
miserably bent over, dreading the next punishment, and wondering what it
would be.

3. Chapter - Punishment

I'm sure my wife was gone no more than an hour, but it felt like days. I
was trapped there, standing on my cramping toes in those tall high heels,
bent forward at the waist, exposing my swat-inflamed, pink pantied rear
under the hem of my short peach dress. My eyes burned

from sweat and tear-dissolved makeup that'd run into them while she
spanked me with the heavy leather paddle. I could barely breathe because
of the way I was tied and tight corset cinching my waist into nothingness.
There was nothing for me to do but suffer and ruminate on my situation.

I was trapped by more than my agonizing posture. She'd taken pictures
of me and threatened to give them to my boss and secretary if I gave her
any trouble for the next two weeks of my surprise vacation. She'd made me
watch her drop them off at a fifty-minute photo place at the

mall, and I was positive she had the prints hidden somewhere I'd never
find them. All because I'd secretly tried on her panties and a few other
clothes a couple of times! Okay, to tell the truth, it was more than a
couple of times. Now, she was determined to turn me into Sheila, a sexy
little crossdresser who'd beg to be allowed to go out dancing so she could
be seen and admired!

A dizzy wave of pain made me start crying again. I suddenly stiffened.
What if that wasn't all she wanted to make me do? What if she was trying
to do more than show off my cute ass and pouty red mouth? She'd already
called me 'slut' a couple of times. What if she meant it?

I almost fainted. I had to end this before it went any further. She'd
promised me still more punishment, and I didn't think I could take any
more. Maybe, if I acted the way she wanted, she'd relent. More
importantly, if I cooperated, there was sure to be a chance to catch her
off guard and escape before any real damage was done.

By the time I finally heard the door open, I was in such total agony
that thinking of ways to escape my feminization was the last thing on my
mind. I'd have done anything simply to be allowed to stand up straight. I
was dizzy from the unending struggle to breathe. My legs

were cramped into fiery pillars of pain. I tried to sob out around the
penis gag what was supposed to be her name.

"Well, well," she drawled from behind me, "don't you look sexy! How's
that nice little ass feel now, Sheila? Still hot and pink as your
panties?"

I heard her walking across the vinyl floor until she was right behind
me. Between my quivering legs, I saw that she'd changed into some shoes I'd
never seen before. The black high heels must have been six inches tall and
were tipped with narrow metal spikes. Her ankles were

covered in black mesh hose. I jumped when I felt her hand on my ass,
then tried to stand very still for whatever she was going to do. She
petted me between my cheeks.

"Is it too tender, darling? Oh, dear. It's hard to answer me with that
nasty gag in your mouth, isn't it?"

I nodded frantically.

"Will you be a good girl if I take it out?"

I nodded so hard that time that I almost dislocated my shoulders.

I gasped the instant the thing slid out of my dried lips. I wanted to
scream at her to turn me loose. Instead, I croaked out, "Thank you."

"Why you're quite welcome, dear. Would you like to stand up?"

"Please!" My voice shook wildly.

"One little thing, and I'll loosen the rope." I heard her dig through
the bag of things she'd bought and wondered what my next torture was. She
tugged my panties down and ran a finger lubricated with something cold and
slick over my exposed asshole. Then, she eased the finger

From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg

Subject: Repost TG: The Surprise Vacation by an unknown author and
Tristmegistus (2/6)

2
_The_Surprise_Vacation_______________by_an_unknown_author_and_Tristmegistus
_

inside me. It hurt like hell, but what could I do? If I screamed or
protested, she'd do it anyway and leave me tied in this bent forward
position - or something worse. I gritted my teeth and endured as best as I
could.

She wiggled the finger inside me and ran it in and out a couple of
times. Cold sweat again popped out all over me, but there was a strange
heat, also. When she pulled her hand away, I thought she was finished.
Then I felt something cold and hard being pressed into me,

something much fatter than a finger. It spread me so wide I thought I
was going to have to scream, then narrowed, letting my sphincter muscle
clamp around it.

"Very good, honey. In case you're wondering, that's your very own butt
plug. I'm sure it's painful, but you'll get used to it. I expect you to
wear it at all times unless I tell you otherwise. Is that clear?"

I nodded jerkily.

"Say it!"

"Yes," I choked out. "I understand."

When she unhooked the rope from the doorknob and let me stand, I
staggered and almost collapsed. Even the tiny breathing space the tight
corset gave me felt wonderful. I gasped as deep lungfuls of air as I
could. I barely noticed her loosening the long leather sleeve laced up my
arms, locking my elbows together, but I was sure aware of the added freedom
and the lessening torture.

She had to help me to a chair, holding me by my wrists, still cuffed
behind my back. I hissed when I sat, both from tender ass cheeks and the
suddenly more noticeable discomfort of the thing buried in my ass.

Until then, I hadn't looked at her, and what I saw shocked and
frightened me. She looked nothing at all like my wife! She was wearing a
shiny, form-fitting black latex bodysuit that looked

something like wildly cut one piece swimwear. There was a seam down the
middle decorated with silver studs. The outfit made her nipples stand out
and was buried in the valley between her pussy lips. The stiletto heels
made her much taller than I was, even in the five inch heels I wore. Her
eyes were made up in a way that reminded me of Cleopatra, with immense
lashes and eyeliner and silver eye shadow drawn out almost to her temples.
Her lips were a deep, deep red that made

her teeth look too white. "Oh dear, you look terrible! Have you been
ruining your makeup by crying?"

I nodded, shocked by her appearance. I heard myself whine, "It hurt."

"It was supposed to," she said like she was explaining something obvious
to a c***d. "And that was nothing compared to what I'll do if you start
misbehaving again." She tied my bound wrists to the chair and brought me
some water. I sipped thirstily until I noticed how badly I had to pee.
It'd been a long time since I'd used the toilet. And about then the bl**d
flowing through my arms began to tingle, then burn, hurting almost as badly
as being tied had.

"It'll pass," she said with a grin.

"Can I use the bathroom? Please?"

"Soon. But first we've got to get you looking pretty again. Do you
know how much the makeover you ruined cost?"

So she led me back to the bedroom. I couldn't help noticing how the
butt plug made me walk even more enticingly than I had merely in the high
heels. Was there no end to my humiliation? I had to endure another
eternal thirty minutes at her vanity before I was allowed to pee - sitting
down, of course, with my wife standing there impatiently. I couldn't help
but sigh my relief as yet more room was made for me to breathe. As I stood
for her to pull my panties up, I was amazed that I felt almost comfortable
in the corset and heels.

"Such a sexy smile," she observed, tucking my penis back between my
legs. Her fingers lingered there. Her incredibly lush, wet lips hovered
inches from mine, and I felt myself begin to harden in her hand. "Do you
feel good, love?"

"A little," I confessed, reminding myself that I had to go along with
her mad game.

"Don't you feel pretty?"

"Kind of."

"Pretty enough to go out to dinner now?"

I blushed. "I'm awfully tired. Can we do that another time?" My penis
was at full erection by then, and she was showing no sign of stopping.

"But you would if I insisted?"

My hips rocked in time with her caress under my short skirt. "I'd have
to. I know what'd happen if I tried to fight you."

"Oh, no you don't," she whispered into my face. "It'd be a hundred
times worse than you can imagine, Sheila. Trust me on that. You don't
want to ever do anything that'd make me angry. Never again. Understand?"

I nodded, feeling her stroking hand more clearly than I heard her soft
words. The way she was rubbing me through the silky material of the
panties was driving me wild. I parted my lips, leaning forward to kiss
her. She quickly pulled away and squeezed my balls with enough f***e to
make me feel nauseated.

"Ah, ah! None of that, darling. I'll not have you smearing that pretty
lipstick of yours until I tell you to. Is my baby getting all hot? Her
sweet clittie's swollen so big. Would she like me to make her cum?"

"Yes," I whispered. "Please."

"You'd cum in your panties and then sl**p in them?"

"Yes. I don't care. Just -"

"You'd lick and suck my pussy until I told you to stop, and then cum in
them for me?"

Oral sex had always disgusted me. "Yes! Anything you want!"

She dropped her hand and took me back to the bedroom, pushing me to my
knees beside the bed. She quickly opened a velcro closure hidden under the
metal studs of the bodysuit and peeled away a strip of fabric that'd
covered her groin. She straddled my head and sat on the edge of

the mattress. I stared in shock between her legs. She'd shaved her
pussy sometime in the week or more since we'd last made love. Her
pinkish-brown labia shone with moisture.

"Kiss those lips, Sheila. French kiss that mouth, you little slut.
Tongue fuck it like you mean it and maybe I'll let you cum."

I was repelled by the thought, but knew it was my only way to get
gratification, and that resistance would mean real trouble. I made myself
lean forward and hesitantly lap at her.

"No!" she yelled, grabbing me by my wig and slamming my face into her,
humping my nose with her hips. "Do it, you fag slut, or we'll go out and
pick somebody up to fuck YOU!"

I did it with every bit of energy I could summon. Little by little, my
disgust faded. I was turning her on! Her thrusts and approving curses
were heartfelt. I'd never heard her even half so aroused when we made love
normally. My penis strained inside the tight panties as I eagerly

wallowed between her legs, licking and sucking wherever she told me to
and going fast or slow according to her commands.

When she orgasmed, I thought she was going to smother me. She screamed
and her legs clamped around me like steel bands, trapping both my mouth and
nose. Her pussy twitched around my tongue and my nose nuzzled her clit.
Just as I started seeing black dots dancing in front of my eyes, she spread
her legs and I came up gasping for air.

I felt right on the edge of cumming myself. I looked down and saw that
the hem of my hose clad legs were spread wide. My dress had slid up high
enough to show the garters and the panties beneath. My cock was still
almost invisible, pointing toward my butt. It looked like I had a girl's
middle, and I was so turned on I was about to die! I'd never wanted to cum
so bad in my whole life, and I couldn't reach out to jack off. I tried to
pull my legs together, hoping that maybe I could rub my thighs together and
get off that way. It didn't work.

I heard my wife laugh. "Would my horny baby like to cum in her panties
now? Would she like to rub her clit with those sexy hands for me?"

I saw that she was laying back on the bed, staring down at me from
between her legs. She was stroking her clit, just like her words were
describing.

"Would you like me to fix your nasty mouth so you can be pretty for me,
and jack off for me like a dirty little slut?"

"Yes! Oh, god, please!"

When she helped me up, she didn't have to tell me to lay down on the
bed. I did it on my own. She spread my legs and snapped handcuffs attached
to the bedframe around my ankles. Then she freed my hands from behind my
back, clicking the left wrist to the bed over my head. The right one she
set free.

"Now do it slow, Sheila. You can't cum until I tell you to."

I was almost oblivious by then. My hand felt clumsy after being
imprisoned for so long, but it flew straight to my middle. She slapped it
away and pinned my arm under her weight.

"Listen to me, cunt! Unless you do it MY way, you don't get to do it at
all! Now just lay there until I say so!"

I panted while she swayed to the vanity to bring what she needed to
repair my face again. I begged her to hurry. Her hand lightly tickled my
painful balls and I cooperated to the max, holding my mouth open like I was
hungry for the lipstick, turning my head this way and that

so she could powder my cheeks and chin to her satisfaction.

"God, you're a sexy whore, Sheila! Now do exactly as I say. First,
lift your skirt out of the way. Now scratch the length of your clit with
those nasty red fingernails!"

The sc**** of my long nails through the silk almost made me shoot off
right then. I dimly heard the click of the shutter as she took more
pictures, but there was nothing I could do about it. I knew I was angling
my hips up provocatively, but I had to in order to reach myself.

"Feel good, honey? I wish you could see how sexy you are," she cooed.
"Now stick your hand inside the panties and rub it, just a little."

The thrill was electrifying! It took every bit of willpower I owned not
to jerk it just the once it'd take to send me over. But my wife's ominous
warning rang in my ears. I may have whined, but I didn't cum.

"Perfect baby! Now push your panties down under your balls. I want to
see it. I want to watch that pretty hand make you shoot cum up in the air.
NO! NOT YET! I want you to just hold it for a second, just squeeze it.
Feel how good it feels."

I was dying. My ears were ringing and my whole body was stiff. I was
panting like a dog. "Please! Please," I howled.

"Tell me your name, slut! Tell me who you are and I'll let you cum!"

"Sheila," I shrieked. "I'm Sheila!"

"And you just love looking sexy, don't you!"

"Yes! Yes!"

"Beg me to take you dancing tomorrow night!"

"Please take me out! Anywhere you want!"

"Do you want to show off? Do you want to wear that nasty black
minidress and tall heels and bright make up? Show everybody what a hot
little slut you are?"

"Yes! I'll do it!"

"Do you WANT to do it?"

"Yes! Yes! I want to be a slut and let everybody see me!"

"Then cum for me, Sheila! Rub your fat clit and cum!"

The explosion ripped through me like lightning. My first blast of sperm
must have shot two feet in the air. There were many more spurts to follow,
and my flying hand was slick with it long before I was finished. I
collapsed onto the mattress, weak as a baby.

She touched my shrinking penis, and I gasped. It was so sensitive I
couldn't stand it. I heard her low chuckle, but she relented and lifted
her hand. She brushed my lips with her fingers, and I

automatically kissed them, tasting something salty and sticky.

My drowsy eyes sprang open. It was my cum! I jerked my head away.

Her voice was a frightening growl. "Do you really want to make me
angry, Sheila? Do you really want to resist me? Are you ready for a hot,
long dick to slide up your asshole?"

My eyes threatened to overflow. "No," I whispered.

"Then lick every drop of cum from my fingers like a good slut."

More humiliated than I'd been while giving the clerks my charge card, or
even having the man leer at me through the car windows, I did what she
demanded. She scooped every last bit of sperm off my dress and slack penis
and made me swallow it. Finally, after I'd licked my own

hand clean, she was satisfied.

After she'd made me change into a red teddy, she chained me to the foot
of the bed and made me sl**p on a blanket on the floor. She'd loosened my
girdle a little, but made me sl**p in make up and the wig. The butt plug
was still there, too. She fed me a can of diet milkshake and a

tiny salad.

"You need to get used to being this way, Sheila. And this IS the way
you're going to be for the next two weeks. Maybe longer, if you give me
any trouble. I can't wait to get our next photos back. They'll show
anybody who sees them just how much you love living this way."

The renewed threat to give them to my boss cowed me even further. I'd
never been so miserable in my life. She'd reminded me, as she handcuffed
me to the bedframe, of what she'd said earlier.

"I told you, Sheila. I knew you didn't believe me then, but now you
know. I made you beg me to go out and flaunt your slutty body, just like I
said I would."

I cried as quietly as I could in the darkness. Somehow, some way, I HAD
to get out of this!

4. Chapter - Adjustments

I woke up stiff and sore, with the thing in my ass hurting like hell.
That and being on the floor were instant reminders of everything that'd
happened. I tried a deep breath but was stopped by the corset. I had to
sweep the wig's hair out of my mouth. My fingernails startled me so

much that my handcuffs clinked on the bed.

The mattress moved and my wife's sl**py face peered down at me. "Good
morning, Sheila? Did you sl**p okay?"

A bitter retort was on my lips when I saw her face turn hard. I
swallowed my protest. "Um, it was okay."

She looked pleased. "That's the spirit, darling! What a good girl
you're being! Just for that, I'll let you go to the bathroom alone."

I tried to hide the hope surging through me by looking down at the floor
and thanking her. My heart was pounding. She dashed it by holding up a
pair cuffs with a short length of chain between them. She clicked them
around my ankles before unlocking me from the bed, and

made me put on the five inch heels. I had to take short mincing steps.
Even if I could get away from her, where could I go in a corset and teddy
with shackles on my legs? Seeing my dismay, she laughed heartily as I
walked delicately from the room.

I hated seeing myself in the mirror. There was still sl**p worn
lipstick on my mouth, eyeliner around my eyes, and flakes of mascara all
over my cheeks. The brown wig was a tangled mop. Under the teddy I was as
hairless as my wife, and the corset showing through the lacy lingerie
showed a shape as nice as hers, too. I could barely see a man beneath all
that. The haggard woman in the mirror looked familiar, like my twin s****r
might have if I had one.

I felt foolish standing to pee, having to hold the red teddy out of the
way, but I was damned if I'd squat unless I had to. The long red
fingernails embarrassed me as they touched my heavy morning cock. I had to
look away as I did my business.

I tried to think. I could take a razor out with me to use as a weapon -
but they were all the disposable kind and wouldn't work. Not that I could
really hurt her, not even for this. But maybe I could convince her I meant
business. To my dismay, there were no scissors, no nothing. Every
conceivable weapon had been taken away. I almost cried in frustration, and
managed not to only by reminding myself how feminine a reaction that'd be.

I pulled myself together. There'd be another time, other chances, if I
played my cards right. Hating what I had to do, I tugged a brush through
the wig and rinsed my face and mouth. I tried a practice smile, but it was
too scary. I had to stay away from mirrors.

She arched an eyebrow when I traipsed back out with as much enthusiasm
as I could find. "Why you little darling! You cleaned up for me!"

"Would you like me to bring you coffee in bed?" I asked her remembering
to speak softly in as feminine a voice as I could muster.

"What? And leave you in the kitchen with all those sharp things?
Honey, you might hurt yourself."

Obviously, she knew I'd try something and wasn't going to give me the
opening I needed. I choked back a burst of rage. "I'd be very careful."

"I'm sure you would, darling. But not this time. Sit down there and
get started on your face, my little cum lover. I'll make the coffee."

She cuffed my legs to the back legs of the vanity's chair and roped my
chest tightly to the back. I might be able to reach the knot, I thought.

"Now do a good job, honey. I want you to look pretty. Remember, we've
got an appointment to get your hair done this afternoon."

"But I can't!" I protested. "I don't know how!"

"Come darling," she warned as she turned away. "You've watched me
hundreds of time, and Cindy and I showed you exactly how it needs to be
done. Do it and do it right, or else!"

The moment she was out of sight, I tried the knot. It was tight, and I
could get no leverage because of the angle of my wrists. I fumbled with it
anyway, desperately, but to no avail. Again tears threatened me. This
time I couldn't hold them off. Once I started, I couldn't stop.

I'd never felt anything like that in my life. I was terrified and
helpless. She was outsmarting me at every turn. I was horrified - she was
winning! She WAS going to be able to make me do whatever she demanded, no
matter how sick or twisted. I was never going to be able to resist her. I
was still crying when she came back fifteen minutes later. Her deep scowl
made me try harder to dam the flood.

"You haven't even started!" she accused angrily.

"I ... I ..." I stammered hopelessly.

"You worthless little bitch! That does it!" She stormed toward me.
There was no way to flee from her. I covered my face with my arms and
sobbed anew. But she didn't go for my face. Her slap landed squarely
between my legs. I doubled up with a sick groan. She wrenched one arm

behind my back and twisted. A cold cuff went around my wrist.

"Give me the other arm!"

I did.

"Why you thankless bitch! You broke a nail messing with that knot,
trying to get away! Oh, you'll pay for that, too!" She jerked me to my
feet by my arms, causing me to yell in pain. She dragged me into the
bathroom and pushed me into the tub, still wearing what I'd slept in. She
jerked off my high heels, then turned the water on, adjusting it until it
was almost scalding hot. I was too afraid to protest. At least I'd quit
crying. She quickly reattached the handcuffs around a

very solid towel rack. With a sinking heart, I remembered I'd installed
it for her three weeks ago. More evidence that she'd been planning this
for a very long time!

To the burning water, she added fragrant bath salts and oils. She
reached under me and with a cruel jerk, removed the plug that almost felt
like part of my ass.

"You've earned the next larger size, cunt. We've got to get you
loosened up and ready for a big fat real cock, don't we? After all, we
don't want it to hurt you so much you can't enjoy the way it's going slide
in and out of you."

That was more than enough to make me sob all over again. "Please," I
begged her softly, "Not that. Anything but that."

"Anything, Sheila? You mean that anything's better than having a man
lift your sexy legs over his shoulders and spread those cute buns under
your dress and hammer you with his cock?"

"Yes!" I wailed hysterically. "Anything!"

"Oh, baby," she laughed, "I'm going to make you remember what you just
said. When you're crying this hard, begging me to let you have a cock up
your ass, I'll remind you. And you will, you know. Just like you did last
night."

With the steaming tub filled to the rim, she left me to soak and think.
Horrible scenarios ran through my mind, but none were anywhere near as bad
as what she'd said. What could be worse than having another man do that to
me? The whole thing was a nightmare, but that ...

The water was almost cool by the time she returned, and I was having
trouble. It was like the butt plug had already loosened my asshole, and I
was sweating as I tried to keep my bowels from emptying in the bathwater.

"Toilet!" I begged the instant the door opened.

"Oh, my! Do we have a problem, darling?" I barely noticed that she was
in makeup as wild as the night before and wearing an ebony minidress that
looked as wet and skin tight as her bodysuit had.

"I need to shit! Please!"

She giggled merrily. "We can't have that, can we? You'd have to walk
around all day smelling of your own shit!" She put a theatrically
thoughtful red nail before her thick scarlet lips. "Now let me see. What
did I do with those keys?"

I realized as she turned away that she wasn't coming back. I knew the
keys were just outside the door on an end table. And she didn't return
until she heard the forlorn wail I made fifteen minutes later as my
stretched sphincter finally released. I was straining to keep as much

of my body out of the filth as I could and crying like a lost toddler.

She clucked her tongue at me and looked disgusted. "Well, Sheila.
That's your third fuck up already, and you've only been awake an hour.
What am I going to do with you? I'm only going to be able to have you
fucked by a few men before it's more reward than punishment."

"I'm sorry! I'll behave! I swear to God I will. Please, Ellen, give
me one more chance!" I knew she was maneuvering me, but it was all I could
do.

She walked up to the side of the tub, petted my damp wig with her hand.
I looked up, pleading with my eyes. I could see right up her skirt, see
that she wasn't wearing any panties, just garters to hold up her seamed
hose. Her naked pussy pouted down at me. I remembered how it tasted. Her
searing red mouth smiled. "Anything, darling. That's what you said.
Remember? Now take a deep breath and relax."

With that, she unlocked my hands. I knew what was coming. Nausea
welled up in me as she pushed my head under the water I'd soiled. At least
she let me shower and scrub myself clean, even though I didn't feel that
way. It didn't feel like I'd ever be able to get clean. I hated her for
what she'd done - all of it, not just in the bathtub. But it was a strange
hatred, more fear than anger, if that makes sense. It didn't to me. I was
more and more convinced that I wasn't going to

be able to escape her - ever. My self-confidence had been eaten away
over the past day until I doubted everything except her cunning.

Somehow, being naked was even worse than wearing the corset and teddy
had been. My hairlessness seemed all the reminder I needed. I wrapped a
towel around me to hide as much of myself as I could while I shaved my
light beard as smooth as was humanly possible. I knew the towel was a
feminine gesture, but I couldn't stand seeing myself that way.

When I finally minced out of the bathroom in my shackles, holding my
shampooed wig in my hand, she acted like nothing had ever happened. She
was chatty, in a kind of girl to girl way. She'd loaded a tray with fresh
fruit and coffee. My mouth watered as I ate my share and tried to make
light conversation. She was critical of my voice, but not in a vicious
way. As she cleared the scant meal, she told me to do my makeup like a good
girl.

I promptly tried to imitate what had been done to me several times the
day before. I'd been paying no attention, and was finding the task
overwhelming. I swallowed my fear and meekly asked for her help. I
watched her expressionless face as she approached, fearful of her

wrath, but her smile made me try to, also.

"Of course, my love. I'm so happy you asked." She pressed her soft
breasts against the back of my head as she hugged me. "I'd love to help
make you beautiful. But," she warned tenderly, "you must learn to do it
for yourself, or I'll be upset."

"I will," I vowed, relishing the feel of her chest wrapping around me.
"Uh, by the way, I think you're beautiful today." It was the most truthful
thing I'd said all day.

"Um," she purred, sliding her hands down my smooth chest, playing with
my nipples, rubbing her breasts more firmly against me. "Thank you, lover.
I knew you'd like it as much as I do."

She let her hands slide lower still, grasped my growing member in a
gentle hand. "God, you make me so hot," she whispered, staring at me via
the mirror. "You've done your lips even better than I did. Such a sweet
red pout - but you should never start with lipstick, baby. Oohh.

My cunt's dripping, thinking about how good they'd feel kissing it like
you did last night. You gave me the best orgasm I've ever had, Sheila. I
want to sixty-nine with you, lick your clit until we both cum."

"I want that, too," I panted hotly, imagining my cock in that sweltering
red mouth. I spoke what I hoped she wanted to hear. "Let me lick you
again. Let me fuck you with my tongue."

She kept me stone hard and sweaty until she'd coached me through the
whole makeover. Then she f***ed me into a second corset, this one red, and
let me play with myself and her heavy breasts as she stretched the laces
tighter and tighter. She warned me over and over not to cum

until she gave me permission. I had to put the breast forms in myself.
Satisfied, she pushed me to the carpet and straddled my face.

"Eat me, whore," was her final command before lowering her head toward
my big, raging clit.

It didn't take either one of us long. I couldn't wait for her to tell
me to let go. She started writhing on my face as her orgasm hit her, and
mine erupted wildly moments later. She didn't seem to mind, as she moaned
loudly, despite her mouthful, and sucked mightily. I was still lazily
licking her when she lifted herself off me and turned around. She brought
her smeared red lips down to mine and kissed me hungrily. She f***ed her
tongue into my mouth, then pushed

the glob of cum she'd saved into the back of my mouth. I tried to pull
away, but there was nowhere to go. She clamped one hand over my lips and
massaged my throat until I swallowed repeatedly, my eyes filled with tears
of humiliation.

"There. Was that so bad, Sheila? Because you're being so cooperative,
I'll overlook the fact that I didn't give you permission to cum. See? I'm
not unreasonable. If you continue to behave, we can both enjoy ourselves.
But the moment you rebel, I'm the only one who'll enjoy myself. Now be a
doll and take your vitamin before you fix your face."

The way she said it made me suspicious. I looked at the big pill when I
rolled it into my palm.

Her laughter made me turn my head after I'd swallowed it. "You're
right, dear. That's a very special vitamin. You've been taking a huge
dose of female hormones for over a month now. Haven't you noticed how
smooth your skin is getting? Soon, you'll be growing your very own

breasts!"

I stared at her in utter horror, more sick to my stomach than bathing in
my shit had made me.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I cried.

She encircled my waist from behind, trapping my arms within hers.
"Because it's what we both want, darling. Don't you see? You need this as
much as I do." Her voice turned stern and cold. "If you ruin your makeup
by crying, I'll make you regret it."

It took superhuman effort to stifle the tears. I wondered, in my panic,
if the daily overdose of hormones was what was making me so emotional. I
tried to pay attention to the cosmetics as I prepared my face to go back to
the mall. I didn't care how I looked - but Ellen did, and pleasing her was
something I HAD to do.

Dressed in a skimpy gold dress and strapped into yet another pair of
five inch heels, with the promised larger butt plug trapped between my ass
cheeks and my wig pinned to my scalp, she led me back to the garage. I was
somewhat shocked that she didn't use the handcuffs. I guess she figured
the leather collar and leg irons and my full blown feminine look was enough
incentive to behave. She was right, too.

5. Chapter- Defining Sheila

It was ten times worse than the day before. Ellen's almost obscene
black dress and lewd makeup attracted the attention of everyone we
encountered as we traipsed through the mall. While all their eyes locked
on her first, they took me in also. She warned me, after we'd gone a
little way, to stand tall and act proud of my beauty, or else. The shop
windows showed me how I looked, with my big breast forms and tiny waist and
full hips revealed by the clinging gold dress. I couldn't ignore how
enticing my widely swaying ass looked. I felt like a beacon, like people
could see me from miles away. She'd deliberately parked as far from the
beauty salon as possible, exposing us to the blatant stares of hundreds of
people as we traversed the full length of the shopping center. I felt
every lusty look like it was actually touching me.

By the time we finally got to the salon, I was horribly confused. While
I was ashamed to death of being publicly exposed like that, I was also a
little breathless with excitement. It wasn't really sexual. My cock
wasn't rock hard, for which I was immensely thankful. It was more like I
was doing something dangerous, something illicit, that charged me with
adrenaline. I was fooling everyone! They were staring at me as hard as
they could, and had no idea!

The way Ellen looked at me when we turned into the beauty shop told me
she knew what I was feeling. Her smile mocked my pleasure, said, "I told
you so," without her having to say a word.

Cindy and my wife again led me to the back room. I was grateful to be
out of sight and tried to relax. After my period of freedom, I was
dismayed when Ellen again used the velcro straps on my wrists.

"You know what to do," she told Cindy. "And while you're at it, she
broke a fingernail this morning that needs to be fixed."

"No problem," the stylist smirked. "I've been thinking. If you'd like,
I could wax her legs and chest and I think I can do better with her face,
too."

"Great idea! Do whatever you think the little bitch needs. I'll be
back in an hour or so." She turned her wet red lips up and smiled at me.
"Be a good girl, Sheila. I think Cindy likes you, so be very nice and
don't give her any trouble."

I nodded meekly, tried to smile back, and used the tips she'd given me
on speaking right. "Have fun shopping."

As soon as she was out of sight, Cindy started acting different. "Okay,
Sheila, we're going to have a lot of fun today. You're not going to
believe how hot you're going to look before I'm through with you."

She removed my wig, which was embarrassing. Anybody who walked in would
recognize me for what I was. I was expecting her to style it or something.
Instead, she threw it carelessly on the counter and picked up a pair of
shears. When she started cutting away all my hair, I froze. She didn't
stop until my hair was an eighth of an inch long all over! Then, to my
horror, she picked up a straight razor and ran it ominously over a strop,
smiling wickedly at me all the while.

I sat rigidly, gripping the armrest as tightly as I could, while she
applied shaving cream to my scalp and shaved me completely bald! I was
whimpering, doing everything possible not to cry at my humiliation.

"Now look in the mirror, Sheila!" It was a command at least as intense
as any Ellen gave me. I obeyed, fearing the consequences, and was
astonished by what I saw.

It wasn't a bald man sitting there, but a lovely, delicately featured
young woman with a scalp as slick as a cue ball! I tried as hard as I
could to see myself under the clothes and cosmetics, and couldn't! The
dangling earrings, arched eyebrows and bowed, trembling red lips weren't
mine! The heaving double swell of my chest looked like it belonged there!
The shapely hose covered legs and towering high heels were someone else's!
I had vanished as thoroughly as if I'd never

existed!

"Now for the good part," Cindy said. She lifted another wig, long,
platinum blonde and obviously very, very expensive, from a box. She showed
me a peculiar smooth liner on the underside instead of the weave like on
the other one. "What happens is that I apply a nice smooth

coat of a special epoxy to your scalp and the wig, then ..."

She let her words trail off. I completed the sentence for her in my
mind. It'd become permanent. Maybe, in a month or so, as my hair grew
out, it'd loosen. Until it did, the silver blonde hair would cascade over
my shoulders and reach part way down my back. It finally

penetrated that my two week vacation "cruise" wasn't going to end that
soon, no matter how well I behaved.

I gave in to my tears while Cindy smeared the smelly paste all over my
scalp and I openly sobbed when she carefully fitted the wig to my head,
jerking it firmly into place. She wore an expression of triumph.

"Jesus," she sneered, "what a pussy you are! It's no wonder your wife
treats you this way. It's exactly what a wimpy little fag like you
deserves! Now I'm going to take these straps off and get you out of that
corset long enough to make sure there's not a single bit of stubble
anywhere on you. Give me any shit, and I'll invite every woman in the shop
to come back and laugh at your naked body!"

Taking all my clothes off was even worse than wearing them. I felt like
I wasn't a man anymore, and she destroyed the illusion that I was a woman,
too. She laughed at the plug closing my ass as she smeared a burning,
stinking chemical all over me, even on my face, cock and

balls, and made me endure the torture of the depilatory far longer than
was necessary. I was afraid it was going to burn my penis and balls right
off. She pushed me into a shower and made me rinse it all off and use a
heavily perfumed soap and then fragrant body powder. I noticed how smooth
and soft I was all over. I guessed the hormones were working, like Ellen
had said.

She laced me back into the red corset even tighter than my wife had, but
had added some padding to the hip area while I showered. When she stepped
back to admire her work, I had even more of an hourglass figure than
before. She made me sit in the chair, with nothing to cover my

dangling, shriveled genitals, while the other girl, Debbie, redid all my
nails, not just the one I'd cracked, and made them even longer and redder.
The way she smirked from time to time at my groin made me wish my sex
organs would crawl up inside me.

Cindy, meanwhile, was styling my new hair and redoing my face, using a
different colored foundation, lots of bright blush, and making my eyes and
lips look as slutty as Ellen's did. I really and truly looked like a cheap
whore with useless male organs where a wet pussy should have

From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg

Subject: Repost TG: The Surprise Vacation by an unknown author and
Tristmegistus (3/6)


The_Surprise_Vacation________________by_an_unknown_author_and_Tristmegistus
_ 3

been.

That's the way my wife found me on her return. Her eyes widened with
surprise, then her lush lips smiled. "Good lord, Cindy! You're a genius!"

"You've got one hot little slut here!" the stylist laughed.
"Thirty-seven, twenty-two, thirty-five unless I'm blind. That gold dress
is going to be stretched even tighter over her mean little ass. Too bad
she's got such a pot belly under that corset. Get her to lose fifteen
pounds and she'd be a real knockout - if she didn't have that ugly thing
between her legs."

"Twenty pounds is more like it," my wife said. She patted my wrist. "I
know she can do it. She may not show it, but she loves what you've done
for her, don't you darling?"

When I meekly nodded, her hand tightened on my arm. Before she could
reprimand me for not answering aloud, I did. "Yes. It's lovely. Thank
you, Cindy."

They both laughed at my spinelessness. Cindy added, a little
hesitantly, "I, uh, came across something else I think she might like. If
you don't mind, Ellen, I'd like to give her a present."

Ellen looked touched. "Cindy! That's so sweet! Of course you may!" I
was instantly filled with fear.

The stylist opened a drawer in her cabinet and brought out a gaily
wrapped package with "To Sheila," written on the tag and handed it to me.
The paper read "Happy Birthday," all over. I blushed furiously.

"Well open it, silly girl!" my wife urged.

I did, fumbling, unable to use my hands as I always had due to the
absurd length of my hooked nails. I discovered I could use them as tools,
sliding them along, slitting the paper like a letter opener. Inside the
box was a bizarre flesh toned elastic device something like both a g-string
and a pouchless jock strap. When I figured out its function, my blush went
even deeper.

"A retainer!" Ellen said appeciatively. "Oh, Sheila, put it on for us!"
She ripped off the velcro bands, freeing my arms.

I bent forward as far as I could, exhaled every bit of air in my lungs,
but the corset wouldn't let me come close to reaching my ankles, even when
I lifted one foot. "Will you help me?"

"Of course, darling! Here!" I delicately lifted each foot as she
slipped it over my ankles, but she stopped when she'd lifted it to a height
I'd shown I could reach. I had to do the rest.

It was humiliating to have to detach my hose from the garters, elevate
my hips, and work the thing into place. Worst of all was reaching inside
it and arranging my penis and balls so that they flattened into absolute
invisibility. Ellen again helped me with my tiny bikini panties. When all
was done, I had a perfectly smooth middle. Even the retainer's tough
elastic string dug so deeply into my flesh that it left no line.

For all visible purposes, I had been turned into a complete woman, even
if they peeked up my dress. No one who saw me would ever doubt my
femininity now. The leather collar covered the lump of my larynx. My
knees weren't even knobby. I felt positive that I would "pass" wherever I
went. But that was only part of it.

My own senses reported no masculinity left in me. My shimmering hair -
the only hair I had other than my carefully shaped eyebrows - had tickled
my cleavage as I bent forward, swung with my every move. Dangling from my
ears were long gold earrings that chimed softly when I moved my head. I
had learned to look out at the world through long black lashes thick with
mascara, day and night. When I looked at my chest, even without breast
forms, I saw how much the corset lifted and shaped my very own flesh into
small pink bosoms - and Ellen assured me that, due to the hormones, they
were growing. Now even my panties were flat and smooth. My every word was
shaped by lips that dripped with deep red color. My fluttering hands were
branded, changed by long scarlet commas. My ass was perpetually violated
by a fake penis I'd gotten used to feeling rub my insides as I walked.
Even without high heels, my hips rolled and swayed.

My emotions weren't even my own. Maybe it was the hormones, maybe it
was something else, but the bottom line was that I cried every time I
became afraid. I felt that EVERY emotion I felt was visible. Ellen had
easily seen through my sly efforts to try to escape from her control. And,
while I hate admitting it, she'd also read, without even trying, how
pleased I was by what Cindy had done to me. I DID like it. I WAS
grateful. And the clearly visible rush of joy that made them

laugh was making me sick.

While they chatted about this and that, I paid no attention. I was
trying to name a new emotion growing in me. I hated myself for what I was
feeling. It made me feel like maybe I was exactly what Cindy had called me
- a pussy, a wimpy little fag. That was the only kind of man

I could think of who'd be so proud of his completely feminized
appearance as I was.

As Ellen turned to me and asked me a question, I was jerked back from my
sad musing. "I'm sorry," I had to confess, despite the danger, "I didn't
hear ..."

Cindy laughed throatily. "Little cunt was so busy admiring herself she
wasn't listening."

My wife's look was stern, and her eyes shone maliciously. "I asked you
if you'd like to thank Cindy for her birthday gift."

"Yes. Of course. Thank you, Cindy. It's -"

"Not that way," Ellen interrupted harshly.

I was befuddled. Cindy took my hand, helped me stand, led me back to
the bathroom. I had no idea what was happening, but I was sure I wasn't
going to like it. She locked the door and leaned against the lavatory.
"You really didn't hear, did you?"

"Uh, no. I'm sorry. I -"

"Ellen was telling me what a great pussy eater you are, how you make her
cum like she's never cum before."

I paled, felt dizzy, sick. Unable to speak, I watched her hands slowly
lift her skirt, inch at a time.

"You know what to do, Sheila. Don't make me use f***e."

I stared at her exposed panties. They were a pale blue. Their crotch
was moist, dark. One hand released her hem. I felt the weight of it
transerred to my shoulder. I sank to my knees. What else could I do?

She made me do it all. I watched my woman's hands tenderly lower her
panties, revealing her moist cunt, its lips shaven, but with a cloud of
brown curls left above the hooded clitoris. I touched, stroked it, finger
fucked it, careful of my nails, exactly as she told me to. I kissed it and
licked it and inserted my tongue in her cavity to her gasped
specifications. She didn't taste quite like Ellen did. Less fishy, more
fragrant. Better, really. Her hands were rough in my hair though. The
sharp pain in my scalp was almost exactly as if my hair was real, not like
the wig had been.

When she came with a muffled shriek, I hungrily licked her clean. My
penis throbbed in my new restraint, filling it with cum. I hadn't even
touched it. My lust had betrayed me. Even after her hands left my hair, I
stayed there, kissing away the dregs of her passion, increasingly aware of
how I'd left my lipstick all over her, how proud of myself I was for
returning her gift in the only way I could.

"You ARE good, Sheila," she purred, no laughter left in her tone.

"Thank you. You taste so good, Cindy." I kissed her reddened clitoris
one last time. Was it really me admitting that, meaning that? It must be.

She helped me to my feet, more tender than she'd ever been. She
gathered me in for a soft kiss, and I offered no resistance, automatically
parted my lips for her tongue. "Next time, I'll give you another present
and maybe I'll taste you. Would you like that?"

"If you want to. If it's okay with Ellen," I stammered. My eyes were
on my face in the mirror as she hugged me. My cheeks were wet with her
fluids. My lips were smeared. When I licked them, I tasted the candy of
my lipstick and the richness of her cum. I'd made her do that, given her
so much pleasure that she'd shouted it aloud.

"You didn't answer me, slut. Would you LIKE that?"

"Yes, Cindy. Very much. I ... I came, too." I watched the honesty
made my face red.

She pushed me to arms length, her eyes twinkling merrily. "You did?
Show me!"

My regret was instantaneous. I stuttered, looking for a way out. Her
expression turned stony. "Show me, whore! Show me the mess you made in
the present I gave you!"

Batting back tears of shame, I wiggled my panties down, then the heavy
elastic, sticky with spewed sperm. My cock hung, tiny and wrinkled and
ugly, shiny with thick spunk.

Cindy's laughter was like tinking bells. "What does Ellen make you do
when you cum? Does she punish you?"

I could lie, I thought. Maybe she wouldn't tell my wife. But if she
did? And, did I really WANT to lie? "She ... she makes me eat it."

"Well? What are you waiting for?"

I was ready for it that time. I knew the taste and texture. I sc****d
up what I could. She made me unhook my hose and remove the device and lick
it clean. Her eyes glittered the whole time. Her breath was quick again.
I could see her nipples through her dress. This was giving her pleasure,
too. I made a small, shy show of the process, trying to look like I
enjoyed what I was doing. Didn't I, at least a little? Wasn't this a
vital part of what'd been done to me? Didn't it

earn me favor, freedom? Such a small price to pay.

"May I put it back on now, Cindy?" I'd seen how my penis was growing. I
wanted to hide it.

"No. Let's show Ellen what a good bitch you've been."

I hung my head and she led me out, panties dangling from one hand,
retainer from the other. Her voice was thick while she related every
detail to my wife. I hazarded a glance at Ellen from beneath the shield
locks of my tangled hair, and quailed inside.

She wasn't pleased by my actions. She was shocked, maybe even dismayed,
and trying not to show it. I felt my lower lip begin to tremble as my eyes
filled with fearful tears. I'd been so sure I was doing the right thing!

The next time I glanced up, her face was a blank mask, and her eyes were
on me, not Cindy, whose voice was but a dim echo. She read my confusion
like I was an open book. I guess I was. I couldn't look away. She
deliberately reached into her purse and came up with a package of
cigarettes and a lighter. My shock deepened. She abhorred everything
about tobacco, yet she tapped out a cigarette and lit it and inhaled as if
she'd been doing it for years. I was like a rodent

hypnotized by a snake, staring vacantly at how her bright lips stained
the white filter, then pursed as if she was kissing the grey plume she
exhaled.

Cindy's tale ended and my wife's eyes dismissed me. She smiled tightly,
but Cindy missed the tension in it. "Very good, Sheila. You're turning
into the perfect little slut, aren't you?"

She was waiting. I didn't know what to say. "I ... I guess so. I'm
sorry if -"

"There's nothing to be sorry about, darling. Nothing at all. But we
have to hurry. There's so much to do before we go out tonight. Go back in
there and get dressed. Fix your makeup."

Ellen paid Cindy while I quickly wiggled into my undergarments, repaired
my lipstick and powdered my face. The stylist refused a tip. "Sheila's
already given me one," she laughed. "Bring her back next week if you'd
like to begin electrolysis on her face."

I followed numbly. Electrolysis to remove my thin facial hair? I
didn't even worry about it. All my worries were focused on my wife. She
marched quickly along, forcing me to have to hurry to keep up. I felt
awkward, stumbling along as best I could in the five inch heels, and knew I
was making a fool of myself. She was angry what I'd done. Very angry.
I'd be punished horribly for some transgression, and I wasn't even sure
what it was. Because I'd had an orgasm as I ate

Cindy? That must be it.

She didn't slow her pace, and I fell farther and farther behind.
Everyone was looking at us - the striking brunette in the clinging black
lycra dress, and the slutty, clumsy platinum blonde. After a

while, I realized no one could tell I was following her. We didn't look
like we were together.

A surge of panic made me bite my lower lip to stifle a shout. Was she
going to abandon me here? Was she deliberately going to f***e me to get
home however I could? My pace faltered, throwing me even further behind.
What was I going to do? I had no money, no identification nothing! My
legs refused to carry me another step. I was frozen, in the middle of a
throng of shoppers. A man bumped into me and I nearly leapt out of my
skin.

He stopped. "You okay lady?" His eyes touched me, raked me.

I bolted. I couldn't stand how close he was, what his eyes were doing.
I pursued my wife, not caring how it looked. I felt like my very life
depended on catching her before she reached the car. To my utter horror, I
couldn't see her. Even in five inch heels, everyone was taller than I was.
The crowd had closed around her, as if it was trying to hide her. I
hesitated, turning hopelessly this way and that, at the juncture of two
wings of the mall, having no idea which direction she'd gone. I was too
scared to even remember where the car was. I'd never felt so utterly lost
and alone, even as a c***d. How could she hate me so much that she'd do
this to me?

I was positive my immobility was again drawing more attention to my face
and body. I knew I looked like I was advertising, asking for exactly the
kind of looks I was being given. There was nothing exciting about it now.
My wife had buffered me from it, made me safe. Now, I was totally
vulnerable, exposed even more than I had been when Cindy stripped me nude
in the salon.

Terror became dread certainty. Something horrible was going to happen.

"Scared, cunt?" came a sibilant whisper in my ear.

I whirled to her, my nightmare ended. "Oh, Ellen! Where were you?"

"You're crying. Stop it this instant." She handed me a tissue. She was
still angry, but there was compassion, too.

I hadn't even been aware of my tears, and was ashamed. "I'm sorry." I
blotted my eyes like she'd taught me. "I guess I was making a fool of
myself again. Did I mess up my eyes?"

"Not too badly. Come on. I need a drink."

This time, her pace was moderate, but her low grade anger made me hold
back a step. I was desperate to please her, to make amends for whatever
I'd done wrong. I reminded myself to stand tall, act proud, do everything
she'd told me to do. It didn't fully register that we were going to a bar
until she crossed the flow of traffic and led me into a dim, hushed space
that smelled of smoke and liquor. It was barely three in the afternoon,
and the place was anything but crowded.

My wife occupied one half of an isolated booth. I took the other side.

She silently stared at me until I dropped my eyes. The tension was so
thick I could taste its bitterness on my tongue. Urgency built within me
to end it, but my jaw seemed locked closed. My mind spun madly, looking
for the right thing to do, to say. A waitress appeared. Ellen

ordered a pair of stingers in somber tones. I thought she was digging
through her handbag for makeup so I could make repairs, but she extracted
another cigarette instead. The lighter added light to her face for a
moment.

"What? You disapprove of me smoking?"

"It's just a shock is all. It looks so ... like you've been doing it
for a long time."

She exhaled with what seemed relief. "What if I told you I started oh,
say, six months ago? What if I said that, since you weren't paying any
attention to me, I bought this dress and started going out?"

My mouth hung open foolishly. "You did? Oh, God, Ellen!" Pictures
flickered through my mind. Ellen, painted and needy, sitting in places
like this looking for men.

"I didn't say that's what happened. I said 'what if.' How would that
make you feel?"

"Sick, I guess. And sorry I was so blind. Is there anything I can do
-"

Her laugh was harsh. "You keep assuming that's what happened, you
stupid bitch. If you knew I'd been fucking other men - excuse me, men
period - would you feel betrayed? Jealous?"

"Of course! I love you, Ellen. I'd do anything to -"

The waitress delivered the drinks, reducing us to silence again. It was
even worse than before. It was like she'd fed me a slow poison. I felt it
eating at my guts. Doubt assailed me. Surely I'd have known. I'd have
smelled the smoke clinging to her flesh and clothes. I'd have been able to
tell if another cock had been inside her, if her lips had been passionately
locked to another mouth.

"'Anything,'" she mocked me, easily taking more smoke. "There's that
word again, Sheila. Every time you use it, you make me want to test you,
to push you, to see if you really mean it."

I squirmed.

"Drink up," she ordered, not touching hers, but waiting for me to sip
from my glass. Neither of us were big fans of hard liquor. Instantly, I
felt the small taste. Its warmth expanding outward from my empty stomach.
It'd been two days since I'd had a decent meal, and I knew the drink was
going to hit me like an avalanche. I wanted to ask her for a sandwich of
something. I held my tongue.

"You still don't get it, do you?"

"I ... I think so. You're saying that what I ... what happened with
Cindy made you feel ... uh, betrayed."

She leaned back. Her bl**d red smile was sharp as a knife. "I warned
you. Remember? 'If you act like a slut, I'll have to treat you like one.'
I think those were my exact words."

"But I was just doing what you ordered me to do!"

"Did I tell you to cum? Did I tell you to like it? Did I tell you to
lick up your cum, or kiss her, or promise to let her suck you off the next
time she gives you a present?"

"No." I stared at my woman's hands wrapped around the drink, the rim
marked by my woman's lips.

She leaned forward. Her breasts touched the table. I could see down
almost to her nipples. "What do you call someone who gives sex in return
for gifts?"

My heart shriveled. "But you told me to thank her that way! I -"

"I didn't say a fucking thing about 'next time,' did I? Answer me!
What kind of woman does what you did?"

She was right. What'd I'd done - almost all of it - wasn't really
because she made me do it. I'd WANTED to. I felt the weight of the words
fill my mouth, overflow my lips. "A whore," I barely whispered.

"I didn't hear you."

I repeated it for her. "A whore. I acted like a whore."

"Is that what you are, Sheila?"

"No! I'm sorry, Ellen. I was wrong. I did a terrible thing. It'll
never happen again. I promise."

"Un huh. And I'm supposed to forgive you. Just like that?"

I swallowed. "I, uh ... I guess I should be punished."

"Are you asking me to punish you?"

I finally managed to meet her steely gaze. "I want you to do whatever
you need to do. I need you, Ellen. I love you more than anything. If you
have to hurt me to forgive me, I'll take it." I was whining, begging. I
meant it with my entire being. "When I thought you'd abandoned me here, I
saw how much I need you. I can't stand the thought of ever being without
you. I think I'd die without you. You've ... I'm different now. I'm
scared all the time. The only time I feel good is when I'm doing what you
want."

I watched her anger evaporate, saw the real love in her eyes. "Do you
really mean that, honey?"

I was thrilled! "Oh, god, yes!"

"And you'll willingly prove it to me?"

I hesitated before I said the next word. I needed to be sure I meant
it, she said. "Anything."

Her smile was a ray of brilliance. Her hand covered mine, squeezed.
"You are a treasure, my love. I adore you. I realized something myself.
What you did with Cindy made me admit to myself how much I need you, too.
Now finish your drink."

I swallowed it with unladylike gulps, then gasped for breath. We both
laughed.

I shook my head at the instantaneous blast of dizziness, felt my hair
tickle my shoulders. "Whoo! That's more than I've had to drink in years."

"Since our wedding," she grinned, then pushed the second glass toward
me.

"You want me to drink this one, too?"

"Un huh. In time. But first let's go freshen up. I love what Cindy's
done to your face, don't you?"

I babbled affirmatives to her questions as we wound our way to the
ladies' room. It was weird going in there, but the thrill of illicitness
was back. I'd always wondered what those forbidden doors hid. I whispered
how much fun it was to fool everyone, to take little risks like this and
almost dare people to challenge me.

"I know exactly what you mean," she laughed gaily, but softly. "I feel
the same way wearing these clothes and using so much makeup. That's why I
smoke, too. It's part of the disguise. Want to try it?"

"I'd choke. That wouldn't be very sexy, would it?"

We kept up our quiet chatter while we touched up our faces, trading
cosmetics, giving one another giggled advice. We were mirror images, I
thought. She dark, me light; she real, me false. For the first time,
being wrapped in feminine clothes, my face coated with color, my body

changed - all of it felt utterly right. Maybe it was the hammer-like
impact of the alcohol, but I wouldn't have changed a thing, and told her
so.

Her eyes filled with tears. "I never expected to hear you say that,
love."

My smile in the mirror was bright. My lips were perfect. "I don't know
- or even care - why you wanted to do this to me. Thank you, Ellen."

6. Chapter - Stepping Out

"You're making me hot again," Ellen told me. She deliberately weighed
her heavy breasts. "See?"

Her nipples were indeed denting the shimmering black lycra dress. "I
noticed," I giggled, the alcohol making me reckless. "Would you like me to
do something about it?"

"You'd do me right here in the bathroom?" she purred.

"I'd do you anywhere you want. You make me hot, too, you know." My lips
were suddenly hungry. I wanted to replace Cindy's aftertaste with Ellen's
more pungent flavor.

"Not yet. Let's get out of here before it gets any worse."

"Worse?" I simpered teasingly, bending over to straighten my hose,
placing my face near her middle. The cascading silvery mane felt
wonderful. I could almost taste the dew certain to be collecting on the
inner surfaces of her labia. With a sudden rush, I remembered that my wife
was wearing no panties beneath that tiny dress, that her sleek, shaved
pussy was naked, mere inches from my saliva filling mouth. I felt my face
flush.

"I want to lick you, Ellen."

"You're d***k, you shameless hussy. I'd better get some food in you.
Come on."

Arm in arm, we re-entered the bar. My pulse was still hammering. I'd
eaten two pussies that day, had two marvelous orgasms, and was feeling
horny all over again. And rash.

The bar was filling. Our return drew eyes. I was already aware of how
beautiful I looked, how sexy in the shape-fitting gold minidress.
Thirty-seven, twenty-two, thirty-five, Cindy had declared with confidence
born of expertise. At five feet two inches, sans the heels, that made me a
knockout. The male eyes touching me didn't feel quite so invasive. The
potent drink had numbed my fear, warmed my libido. It was almost a
disappointment to reach our booth and hide ourselves behind a table.

Ellen leaned forward over it. The underhalf of her fine breasts again
pressed the smooth surface, and her deep cleavage opened to me. Her eyes
were hooded, the way they got when she was aroused. Her nipples were still
erect, must be visible to all our admirers. A stab of envy

pierced me. My latex breast forms, full as they were, felt inadequate.

"Would you like me to order you a snack, darling? Would you like to
stay for a while longer?"

I mechanically sipped the drink she'd pushed to my side of the table. I
was ashamed of my budding, twisted desire. "If you want to." Her face
changed to the look that demanded a real answer. "Yes. I'd like that."

She leaned back, dug for the cigarettes. "Now was that so hard?"

"I guess not." I watched her chest swell as she filled her lungs with
smoke. "Can I, uh, would you mind if I changed my mind about, uh ..."

"Smoking? Of course."

As Ellen's lighter flared in my hand and I hesitantly hollowed my cheeks
around the tobacco, the waitress arrived with another pair of unordered
stingers. "From the gentlemen," she informed us, nodding toward a table of
five businessmen across the room. I didn't like the taste of smoke at all.

My wife turned to smile at the table. "Thank them, Sheila. Give them
your prettiest smile."

My face tightened, my flush deepened. Deliberately smile at five men?
Men, just like me? Well, not quite like me, I admitted. But, wouldn't it
be rude not to - as well as annoying to Ellen? I'd already hurt her,
angered her deeply, and didn't want to risk that again. I knew how
enticing my lush red lips were as I turned up their corners and aimed them
toward the businessmen. As I did, Ellen shocked me. Beneath the table the
toe of one of her towering heels pressed against

my thighs, rubbed slickly over my hose.

My eyes jerked back to her. Her lips were slack. Her breathing was
quick. She'd slid down in her seat. "You're so beautiful," she muttered.
"Spread your legs, baby. Let me in."

My knees were knocking. I tried another puff of smoke. No one could
see, I reasoned. I obeyed her and swallowed a gulp of my drink. Dizzily,
I saw the lipstick coating its rim, marring the white filter of the
cigarette trembling in my hand. My bent-under prick was hard, hurtful,
invisible within the heavy elastic retainer. Her shoe slid smoothly
between my knees, rubbed up and down my inner thigh. With each stroke, it
went higher, its tip dipping under my high hem, nearing the tops of my
hose.

"Stop. Please," I whimpered.

"Am I embarrassing you?"

"Yes."

"Am I exciting you?"

I wet my lips. "Yes."

"Is your little clittie hard? Does it ache?"

My hips wanted to rock. I wanted to slide down so she could reach
higher. "Yes."

She suddenly dropped her foot and sat up. Her succulent mouth shaped an
inviting smile, directed over my shoulder. A deep voice throbbed in my
ear.

"May we join you?"

My entire body tensed. My head jerked toward the sound. Two men from
the distant table, broadly smiling, stood expectantly over us. My ears
were filled with a ringing noise. I barely heard Ellen.

"Of course. Sheila honey, scoot over."

I reflexively did as she commanded, felt the bench seat sag under a
heavy weight, smelled the sharp sting of male cologne over the stench of my
cigarette. A muscular shoulder brushed me as the man arranged himself. I
dared a quick look at my wife. Her heavy-lidded eyes were on me, glittered
mischievously. She'd deliberately set me up. She'd seen this coming.
She'd toyed with me, knowing what was going to happen.

She introduced us. I imagine I smiled mechanically, politely, although
I'll never be positive. The next few minutes are an absolute blank, a deep
hole in my memory. All I recall is a dire sense of panic. I was trapped
in the booth. I couldn't escape. There was nowhere to go. My glass was
suddenly empty. There was what I guess was a fresh cigarette burning
between my curved fingernails. Ellen's tall heel was sensuously rubbing my
ankle. My eyes on the table, I still saw her lean toward her gentleman,
watched her pendulous breast flatten against his bicep for a moment.
Beside me was a man. I darted my eyes up at him and he caught them. His
gaze spoke silent volumes. How desirable I was. How much he wished he
could kiss me, touch me. Fuck me.

Another round of drinks arrived. There was no food. The unaccustomed
alcohol was bringing me out of my shock. Ellen was flirting with both men.
Not outrageously, but encouraging them nonetheless. She was gently teasing
me about being so shy - recently divorced, she explained, and way out of
practice. She'd had to drag me out, she laughed musically. I wondered if
her pun was intentional, decided it was. She'd proven her genius.
Everything she did was intentional. What did she intend to happen next?
Her hand dropped to the man's suit sleeve. Her eyes were locked with his.
My throat tightened. Would she fuck him? Would she make me ...

My voice was shrill. It seemed to explode into the natural flow of
conversation. "Excuse me. I have to use the rest room. Ellen?" It was a
raw, desperate plea.

"Already?" she drawled. Her companion slid out. Mine patted my thigh,
let his hand linger for an instant before he moved. "Hurry back." His
breath puffed against my overheated cheek.

The drinks hit me like a truck the second I stood. The man who'd freed
me from the prison of the booth - Larry, I think his name was - caught me,
or I might have toppled off my heels. It was how he performed the
chivalrous gesture that was notable. He gathered me into his strong arms
like a lover. He didn't hold me tightly or lewdly, but did press against
me from breast to thigh. My thoroughly warmed latex tits must have been
convincingly soft. Through my spinning dizziness, I felt his erection on
my hip.

I fumblingly pushed away from him, but he kept his hands on my
shoulders, steadying me. The earth slowed its nauseating spin. Ellen was
standing beside me, wearing a wry red grin. She took my elbow and guided
my wobble toward the rest room. Her grip on my arm was painfully tight.
The instant the door closed behind us, she pushed me against the wall
length vanity. Her voice was a raw hiss.

"What the fuck's going on, Sheila? First you pout and sulk like a
little k** because I invited two gentlemen to sit with us, then you leap
into the guy's arms like a horny teenager."

"I'm d***k," I slurred. "I fell."

"My ass! It was deliberate as hell!"

"No!" I wailed. "I hate this, Ellen! All I want to do is go home!"

She sucked smoke savagely, spat it back out. "Maybe you'd like it if we
took them with us? You'd like to fuck him, wouldn't you?"

I shook my head so wildly that I staggered. I felt the tears gathering
in my eyes. "Don't say that. You know it's not true. Please don't be mad
at me. You know I can't drink."

"No one's been forcing you, bitch."

"I'm scared. It ... I ..."

She suddenly relented, hugged me, petted my silvery mane. It felt good
to be comforted. I nestled into her arms, lowered my head to her shoulder.
Her voice was soothing. "This's happening too fast for you, isn't it? All
these new sensations, these new feelings. It must be

very confusing."

I nodded meekly, sighed from the pit of my soul. The smell of smoke
mingled with her perfume to form an earthy scent.

"And," she chuckled, "I guess I did forget to order you something to
eat. Tell you what. Let's go back out there and make excuses and get out
of here. Okay?"

"Thank you, Ellen!"

"But I want you to do something for me first."

"Of course!"

"I want you to kiss him goodbye. A nice long kiss, like you mean it."

I lifted my wobbly head. My eyes were big as saucers and I'm sure my
pouty mouth hung open in shock. I started to ask her if she was serious,
but there was ice gleaming in her eyes. I dropped my gaze. I'd screwed up
so many times today that I'd lost count. I owed her whatever repayment she
demanded. I'd promised.

I barely heard my own voice. "You really want me to?"

"I do. Open your mouth. Use your tongue. I'll kiss mine, too - but
I'll be watching you. It'll make my cunt gush down my legs. It'll be fun
to watch them fall all over themselves, honey. They'll beg us to go out
with them. We'll give them a fake phone number, then I'll get you home and
feed you and sober you up. Deal?"

"I guess."

"Look at me," she demanded throatily, wiggling her skirt up, baring her
garters, then her naked cunt. "Look how fucking wet you make me, baby.
You turn me on so much it's killing me. I'm not hot because of those good
looking men. I'm dripping because I love watching you, Sheila.

Feel it, baby. Feel how wet I am."

I numbly reached down and rubbed her labia with a slender finger. She
purred, rocked her hips and took it a little inside. She was so slick, so
ready.

"That's what I want to kiss," I heard myself say. "That's where I want
my tongue."

She took a step back, her eyes deep pools of desire. "Not now. In the
car. On the way home. Just pretend his mouth is my cunt." She stretched
the black dress down over her hips, hiding her beautiful pussy.

She made me look at myself in the mirror. A reality check, she called
it. My own passion was as visible as my wife's. My nipples couldn't get
hard like hers, but my face reflected it just as deeply. Guiltily, I
smelled the finger that had caressed her. Her chuckle at my gesture was
low.

"Let's go do it," she said, "and get out of here before I **** you on
the spot."

Her left tit rubbed my right arm on the voyage back. I watched the
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg

Subject: Repost TG: The Surprise Vacation by an unknown author and
Tristmegistus (4/6)

4
_The_Surprise_Vacation_______________by_an_unknown_author_and_Tristmegistus
_

table approach, saw both men stand politely. They really were good
looking guys. Their suits were expensive. They were polite to a flaw, and
just a little forward. But then we looked like the kind of women who were
asking for male advances, so that was to be expected.

Ellen paused as we approached. "Sheila's not feeling well," I heard her
drone. We had to go. Disappointed noises from both. Ellen took us a step
closer. My eyes were locked on the one who'd picked me. Well trimmed dark
hair. Gleaming white teeth. Much taller than I was, and

vastly more muscular.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Ellen respond to the other one's faint
invitation and lean toward him. I mimicked her, refusing to think.

He gathered me up like I was a precious treasure. He enfolded me in
arms far more powerful than any I'd been in. His head bent toward mine and
my lips parted, just as they would have for Ellen. My arms went around his
waist.

His mouth was hard. His face was slightly scratchy. His tongue was
quick, agile, demanding. He ground his face against mine and took my mouth
with his own. There was no way I could pretend it was my wife. His
swollen groin was tight against my belly. When I pulled away, he

relented, released me. My lipstick decorated him like an indelible
stain, yet it vanished completely as he transferred it to his white silk
handkerchief. Did he have a wife who'd notice it, I wondered

stupidly, then tore my eyes away.

Ellen was completing the lie. Her desire-bruised lips were slightly
blurred, just as mine must be. I could make no sense of her words, just
waited patiently for her to finish. My man was saying something. I smiled
mechanically, my thundering pulse drowning out all sound. When Ellen
turned, so did I. We made our escape.

All I remember about the long trip back to the car is the way my body
moved. The plug buried in my ass caressed me with every short stride. My
hips felt loose, and I knew they swayed sexily. I didn't care. I felt my
breast forms bounce every time my high heels jarred against the

terrazzo floor. I felt the breeze of my movement lick my sleek thighs,
my long hair tickle my shoulders, the faint weight of the heavy earrings.
The corset's tightness was reassuring. My stone hard little cock, aimed
toward my warm ass cheeks, rubbed slightly between my thighs. I was as
d***k on sensation as I was on liquor.

I remember more about the drive home. I vividly recall burying my face
between Ellen's wantonly spread thighs as she sat behind the wheel. I knew
the windows were tinted and that my act would be unseen, but I'd have done
it anyway. I sucked and nibbled her through two restrained orgasms and was
working toward a third by the time we achieved the garage. She d**g me
away from her gaping cunt long enough to slide the seat back, then fucked
my face with crazed abandon, beating my chin with her hips. I don't think
she was even aware she was speaking.

"Oh, fuck me with that slutty tongue, baby. Stick it deep in me, just
like you did Cindy's nasty little hole. I almost died when you came out
with your clit and balls dangling down and your cum still in your hot
little whore's mouth. I saw how you kissed that guy, cunt. You loved it.
You let him tongue fuck your mouth, didn't you, you nasty little slut? You
felt how hard you made his big cock, didn't you? Every time you smoked, it
was like you were sucking a dick. The way you strutted through the mall
turned you on, didn't it? It made you feel like a tramp, didn't it? You
loved every minute of the whole fucking day, didn't you, baby?"

There was more. It was like each accusation, each question drove me
deeper into her slick slit. It was all true, every word of it. And I
wasn't ashamed. I felt no guilt. She was proud of me. This was what she
wanted. Atop my lust was an overlay of gratitude. I trusted her. She
knew what I wanted, what I needed. When she finally exploded, she did so
with v******e. She twisted my head, crushed my skull, jerked madly on my
hair. I felt my own orgasm trying to fill my panties, and somehow managed
to deny it. She hadn't given me permission.

The instant she threw me away from her, I rawly begged her to let me
finish myself. I was writhing with need, had to made fists of my hands to
keep them from my silky center.

Ellen sprawled obscenely against the driver's door, her dress around her
waist, her heavy tits exposed. Her nipples were immense. Her cunt lips
still pulsed. Her makeup was intact, although she'd gotten lipstick on her
teeth from biting her lower lip. She stared at me, had trouble lighting a
cigarette.

"Put your feet on the dashboard," she growled. "Open your legs as far
as you can."

I scrambled to do what she wanted.

"Reach down and show me your clit."

I jerked the panties away, loosed my purpled member from the restrainer,
displayed it, gasping, trying not to blow at the wonderful thrills created
by my touches.

"Bend forward as far as you can, slut. Try to suck it. Jack yourself
off. Shoot straight into your mouth."

I couldn't f***e the corset to bend much more and I whined in
frustration. She helped me, grabbing my ankles, forcing my knees higher.
It felt like I was being cut in half.

"Open those slimy lips, whore, and do it."

Two seconds later, I erupted. A gout of sperm splatted against my
forehead. A second struck my lower lip. The third landed on my heaving
chest. The rest simply drooled over my pumping fist. The instant she
released me, I started scooping up the fragrant, warm cum, eating it like
it was my favorite candy, wishing there was more.

"Good, baby," she cooed, "but not good enough. Let's get you inside.
I've got something I need to show you."

7. Chapter - Home Sweet Home

Later - much later, emotionally, if not by the clock - Ellen helped me
to bed. I needed every bit of assistance I could get. I'd been tied in a
position similar to, though more relaxed than the torturous bent forward
stance she'd employed the night before, and she'd taught me two very
important lessons. I was more accustomed to the squeeze of the corset and
the angle of the high heels, so that part of it wasn't nearly as agonizing.
The rest of the punishment, though, was much

more vicious than merely being spanked.

Ellen's first exercise was designed to illustrate how to suck cock. She
employed a strap-on dildo, one end of which was buried in the denuded cunt
still bearing my lipstick, and demanded that I perform fellatio on her
until my jaws ached and the back of my mouth was raw.

Begging her not to abuse my throat had proven worse than useless. As
she tapped her false cock against my sealed red lips, she reminded me of my
vow to do anything to earn her forgiveness. Would I prefer it if she went
to some bar and picked up a stranger equipped with the real thing and
brought him home for me? She'd be happy to drop to her knees in front of
me and lick its length, kiss its swollen head, and demonstrate first hand
how it should be done, if I wanted that. My answer was to part my lips and
ask her to tell me what to do.

The second lesson was how to take the same device, thickly greased, up
my stretched asshole. Relax, she'd urged as she pushed into me, and enjoy
it. The physical pain was much less than I expected. The butt plug must
have opened me up quite well, and the alcohol had deadened me. The
emotional trauma was much more severe.

My wife fucked my virgin ass - my cunt, she called it, her throat
clogged with lust - until the pressure of the dildo against her clit made
her cum. By then I was so delirious that I could almost feel the rubber
dong pulse and ripple in my gut as if it was expelling a huge load of sperm
deep into me.

Both were punishment for my slutty behavior at the beauty salon,
fulfillment of her earlier vow to treat me like a whore if I acted like
one. After her orgasm had eased, she gently withdrew her cock from me and
wiped it clean. As she used the warm, damp cloth to remove the messy
lubricant from my fiery red lower cheeks, she reached beneath me and
fondled my engorged cock, murmuring that I'd earned a reward. My hips
resumed the thrust they'd learned while she'd fucked me, and I watched
enthralled from between my spread, chained, hose clad legs, as her hand
glided over my long flesh, massaging it against the latex prick, heated by
my bowels and still strapped to her. I shrieked as I came, shooting my
jism all over her hand and the dildo.

When she moved back to my head, she didn't need to order me to lick the
shaft and her hand clean. That I was hungrily licking real cum from a cock
shaped toy was an irony that wasn't wasted on me.

Again I slept on the floor, chained to the bed frame, dressed in the
loosened corset and a different teddy. Ellen had coaxed my stunned brain
through the laborious process of removing all my makeup, explaining that it
wasn't good for my complexion to sl**p in it, and showing me exactly how I
needed to care for my skin. I voided my violated bowels and easily
returned the ass plug to its home. In my exhaustion, even my
color-stripped face looked wholly female. I still

felt d***k, or d**gged. I wondered why I hadn't seen how feminine my
were features before, how I had truly been a woman awaiting her rebirth all
my life.

I silently cried myself to sl**p, not because I was pain wracked from
her violation of me, not due to the cruelty of having every possible trace
of my masculinity erased - but because I'd loved almost everything that'd
happened to me, the whole day long. My thoughts weren't about how I could
restore myself back into maleness after my two week surprise vacation
ended, but rather to pray that I could somehow extend it forever.

It'd taken Ellen just over thirty-six hours to reveal, to myself and the
world at large, a side of myself I'd barely dared to even fantasize about.
While I'd sneakily worn her panties and dresses, this was what I'd wanted.
It'd been too horrifying, too perverse to admit, even in the darkest
recesses of my mind.

Even as I was wracked by silent sobs, I was wondering what my wife had
in mind for the next day. I knew that, no matter what I said, no matter
how strenuously I objected, I'd welcome whatever she made me do, no matter
how degrading.

My eagerness had passed by morning. The pain that hadn't been there the
night before throbbed in my ass, burned in the back of my mouth. My
calves, feet, and the small of my back were incredibly sore from wearing
the tall heels all day. My scalp itched like mad under the

permanently affixed wig. I had a hangover that felt like some insane
blacksmith was at work at an anvil between my ears. My stomach growled
with both hunger and nausea.

When Ellen released me, she didn't bother with shackles. I staggered
into the bathroom barefoot to take care of essential business. Unlike the
morning before, I couldn't bring myself to stand to urinate. I told myself
that was because I was so sick, and knew it was a lie. I sat on the toilet
ring because it would've been too shameful to act like I was still a man.
My penis and testicles were the only part of me that looked male, and I
couldn't bear the thought of peeing the old way. It would've been
shamefully hypocritical, a senseless denial of what had already become my
reality.

A long hot soak in a fragrant tub eased my physical woes, and a real, if
low-fat, breakfast lessened my psychic ones. Ellen weighed me. I was
astonished to see that I'd already lost five pounds. Her warning that the
next fifteen would be harder wasn't lost on me. I swallowed

my big "vitamin" with mixed feelings. I'd become aware how the large
dose of hormones had already affected my body. Part of me wished I could
swallow the entire bottle and accelerate the changes taking place. The
other part was ashamed to tears of that perverse desire.

She had me dress in the black corset, but left it moderately loose, and
had me cover it with the first casual clothes I'd worn in what seemed
forever. The new designer jeans were satisfyingly tight, and the three
inch heels were as easy to move in as tennis shoes had been in my old life.
I thought the green cotton blouse was flattering with the gold choker in
place of the leather collar I'd been wearing for the last two days. The
only makeup she allowed me was lipstick and mascara, which I had to do
myself.

I was still a pretty young woman, but one more suited to keeping house
than teasing cock at the mall. With rubber gloves protecting my too-long
nails, I set about cleaning the house with more gusto than I'd ever felt
before.

It was a purely domestic day, as were most of the two which followed.
There were no outrageous outside adventures. No shopping. No drinks at
bars. No scenes with other women - or men.

Ellen developed a routine for me. There were exercises designed to
limber me as well as work off pounds, without building ugly muscles. There
were daily lessons in feminine behavior and voice sessions every afternoon.
I gave myself two enemas every day. While grocery shopping

- our only trip out of the house during those three quiet days - my wife
bought me a videotape on cosmetics and demanded I memorize it, as well as
read every magazine article I could find on the same topic.

My feminine lifestyle quickly became second nature. I got so used to my
long silvery hair that I couldn't imagine having ever been without it. I
found I could do everything with my long painted nails that I'd done
before. The aches in my leg and back muscles eased and being

without high heels didn't feel normal. During rare moments without
breast forms and a butt plug, I felt like I'd been stripped of vital parts
of myself.

That was one of the most effective ways Ellen punished me. After
breaking one of our wedding wine glasses while unloading the dishwasher,
she angrily took off all my clothes and made me continue my chores nude
except for five inch heels and heavy rubber gloves. I hated the way my
cock and balls dangled, slapped against my smooth, hairless thighs with
every step. I felt fat and ugly with no corset to give me the lovely shape
I identified with. After an hour, I was in

tears, begging her to let me stretch my retainer over my male organs and
lace me back into a corset.

She was lounging in a hot bath while I cleaned the toilet and tile
floor. "You've broken something irreplaceable, Sheila. We toasted one
another with that glass at our wedding reception. After having destroyed a
symbol of our marriage, you ask me to lighten your punishment?"

"Just change it," I said in my more refined female voice. "Please,
Ellen. This is too ... too -"

"Humiliating? Disgraceful?" she mocked.

I nodded, unable to meet her eyes.

"If I let you start making amends, will you do everything I say for the
rest of the day without hesitation? No matter what it is?"

"Yes! I promise!"

She lay in the steaming water with her eyes closed for a moment. A
smile grew on her face. "Run to the vanity and bring back your favorite
lipstick, doll."

I took her order literally. Running in the tall heels was more scamper
than trot, but I'd become used to their limitations.

"Lay on your back on the floor."

The tile was cold.

"Raise your knees and spread your legs so you can see your clit. Good
girl. Take off your gloves. Now paint it with the lipstick. All of it. I
want it to be fuscia from top to bottom."

I stretched it, stroked the tube of vivid color up and down. It
hardened as I did, exposing yet more surface area to be coated. She
climbed from the tub, stood at my feet as I finished.

"Do your mouth, baby. Smear it on heavy."

The chills racing through me weren't caused by the cool floor. I ran
the lipstick over my mouth again and again until she nodded approval.

"Now jack off, bitch." She grabbed my ankles and bent me double, pushing
my knees as wide as they'd go. My shaft felt greasy in my palm, which was
instantly coated with bright color. She strained my back and neck muscles
until they screamed with pain, leaning all her weight on my comma shaped
body, forcing my cock closer and closer to my face.

"Pull your plug, cunt. Fuck your ass with the lipstick. No! Leave the
cap off the tube!"

The plug came out with the usual wet sensation. It was larger than the
lipstick, which slid easily inside my loosened hole. I held it so I could
see the dark plastic holder go in and out. My hand was a blur on my dick.
Slowly, my strained muscles let it come still closer to my slick red lips.

"Lick it, whore."

I strained my tongue as far as possible, but it wasn't far enough. I
was an inch away from the smeared, swollen purplish- red tip.

"Cum, lover. Shoot every drop right in your slutty little mouth."

As if her command was enough to make me explode, I did precisely what
she demanded. The closeup sight of my expanding, pulsing prick, the vision
of the first gout of sperm being expelled, the shocking sensation of my cum
spattering inside my gaping mouth - these factors seemed to quadruple the
intensity of my orgasm, send me into a realm beyond anything I'd ever
imagined. At that instant, my tongue somehow managed to make contact with
my leaping cock.

Something happened deep within my soul. Something irreversible. It was
like an electrical circuit had been closed, a psychic switch flipped. An
all new energy burned through me. It was entirely my imagination, but I
felt the whole length of my dick slide between my lips, into my mouth, down
my throat. All this in the split second before the second burst of cum hit
my hard palate, instantly followed by the third and fourth. By then, my
entire body was involved in the

mind-boggling climax. My ass was spasming around the lipstick tube,
squeezing it like a pussy does a cock. My hips were desperately trying to
fuck my mouth.

As the surges began to fade, my universe expanded beyond my body. I
heard my harsh gasps for air, Ellen's thick voiced encouragements. The
heel of one of my red shoes was buried in her cunt. But, above all, the
wonderful ripeness of my cum coated my mouth and tongue and soul.

I'd been made whole. A single touch of tongue to cock had made all the
difference in the world.

I caught the last oozes and dribbles in my cupped palm, milked my staff
with my lipstick covered fist, and licked it clean with a voracious hunger.
I'd stepped over a precipice and was still falling. My taste had been
whetted, not appeased. I wanted more - craved a steady flow of sperm down
my throat, not the teasing appetizer I'd given myself. I knew I'd gone mad
and I welcomed it.

Ellen disrupted my delirious reverie by lifting herself off my spike
heel and dropping my rubbery legs. She fell atop me, her hips thrusting
incoherently against my shrinking dick, her lips devouring mine, her tongue
frantic to share the flavor of my sperm. I felt the lipstick tube slip
from my ass. I opened my jaws to my wife, letting her lap from my cavity
like a dog does from a bowl. She too was cumming, using my spent rod to
rub her clit.

When she abruptly jerked away from me, her face bore an expression that
was as crazed as mine must have been. Her voice was low and raw. "Wash
the slime off your face and hands, whore. Leave everything else exactly as
it is and have your nasty ass in the bedroom in three

minutes."

She bolted from the bathroom like a berserker before I could move.
Every muscle in my body was relaxed. Pushing myself to my knees took a
massive effort. But I could almost hear a clock ticking off the seconds in
my head. I was infected by her wild energy. I scrubbed at my face and
hands, whining with frustration at the stubbornness of the lipstick's
stains.

I had no idea if I met her deadline. Neither did Ellen. She was
throwing clothes at the bed as I hurried on wobbly legs into the bedroom.

"Get dressed, you sleazy cunt."

I tried to be careful not to smear my lipsticked cock and ass on my
hands as I arranged my organs in the tight grip of the retainer. I
squirmed into the red corset while she lit a cigarette and stared at me
through narrowed, smoldering eyes. I rolled up equally red hose, stepped
into scarlet bikini panties. I looked around for an ass plug. There was
none. I looked at her helplessly, seeking guidance.

She grabbed the laces of the corset and began hooking me into it. Never
had she used such strength, restrained me so impossibly tight. Even
without the gel filled breast forms, my tit flesh bulged into the cups. My
nipples were nearly as swollen as my wife's. And I wished it was tighter
still. I ached for my tits to fill the cups to overflowing.

She tied me off and roughly pushed me toward the vanity. "Paint
yourself, slut. We're going out. We're going to get you laid for real.
Make yourself look like the whore you are, Sheila. If you don't use enough
makeup, I'll make you watch while some real man drills my cunt, then make
you lick his cum out of me."

I was utterly infected. I wanted that. I wanted to lay helplessly
beside her while a long fat prick drilled her wet pussy. I wanted to hear
her cries, watch her humping, spasming body. My mouth watered at the
thought of tasting her cum mixed with someone's sperm. It would've

been more like reward than punishment.

I created a face just as slutty as she wanted because I wanted it as
much as she did - maybe even more. I felt hollow, empty. I was going to
be fucked. By a man.

"Good," she growled, rubbing her cunt against the back of my head. She
ran a dildo over my cheek. "Use this on yourself while I do my makeup.
Don't even think about cumming again."

I flopped on the bed, curled my sexy legs to my chest and stroked the
long thin rubber cock in and out of my lipstick slickened ass while I
watched her. It was good. Very good.

I won't lie. I won't claim that everything that happened that night was
because of Ellen's dominance. That had nothing to do with it. I did it
all on my own. My mind remained filled with a haze as thick as my cum. It
allowed only surreal images of twisted lust to take shape. I was
possessed.

I spoke the name of the notorious bi-sexual bar through lips too heavy
with lipstick and gloss. I drove us there while she used the dildo on her
gushing pussy. I licked it clean after each of her two orgasms. I asked
her for a cigarette after we parked, after I'd freshened my wet red lips,
just before I led our pranced entrance. I sucked smoke as I scanned the
crowd, found us a table. I crossed my legs so anyone who cared to got a
good look at my long thighs.

I was completely devoid of shame. I selected and rejected my dance
partners, seeking just the right man. I found him after about a half hour.
I forgot about Ellen, who was on the dance floor dry fucking some guy. I
was at the table, working on my second drink and my third cigarette. I
wanted him the moment he sat in my wife's empty chair. My half hard clit
lurched toward the crack of my ass. My lips ached to be crushed under his,
and I unabashedly let him know it.

He wanted to dance first. I felt his cock swell against my belly as I
pressed into him. It was for me. His cum was for me. I wrapped my arms
around his neck and strained against him. I stood on tiptoe and claimed
his mouth, drove my tongue between his parted lips exactly like I wanted
his prick to take me. He finally got the idea. I was no nice girl playing
the dating game. I was a wanton slut who only wanted his meat.

Ellen had guided her partner near us and caught my eye. Her hand was
openly rubbing her man's cock. Her mouth was smeared. Her nipples were
twin bullets trying to tear through her black cocktail dress. Her
gyrations on the dance floor had raised her skirt high enough to expose

the tops of her hose. Her eyes were glowing embers, drilling into me.

I was looking at her while I licked my date's ear and whispered into it.
"I want to suck your cock. I need your cum."

I led him to our car, pushed him into the back seat. My quaking hand
was on his zipper before he was settled against the far door. When I felt
the heat of his long, stiff, smooth cock in my hands, I froze. A wild
thrill ripped up my spine, exploded against the top of my skull, s**ttering
hot sparks everywhere. Time slowed. I watched my lovely hands drag it out
into view. My little fists encircled it, traveled its length, measured its
girth. My mouth filled with saliva. This was

it. The time had come. My head was pulled toward his lap by an
irresistible f***e.

I already knew what it'd feel like, taste like, look like. There were
no surprises. Far, far back, in the dark corners of my mind, I'd imagined
this all my life. Since puberty, I'd craved this. My passion-heavy red
lips met the tip of his prick, kissed it tenderly, like a long lost lover.

I knew what to do. I knew how to make him as crazy with need as I was.
No born-woman could know what I did about how to please a man.

I made love to a disembodied cock, not the nameless man it was attached
to. I licked and sucked and kissed. I ran him into and out of my mouth,
fondling his heavy, hairy balls, flirting with his ass, occasionally
gasping and shuddering and having to just jack him off as I was consumed
with wild ecstasy.

He came too soon. I almost missed it. I had to lunge down on him as
his groans suddenly changed tone, as I felt his dick harden yet more and
begin its preliminary twitching. My head bobbed up and down, taking as
much splendor into my mouth as I could manage.

When the first gush came, I was ready. I tightened my lips on him and
began my own orgasm as his seed hit the top of my throat with marvelous
f***e. I wanted to remember each pulse, each gout, each choked swallow -
but I lost track. Specifics faded beneath the groundswell of my

fulfillment. All I recall is drinking him dry, trying to suck him hard
again, and being pushed away.

He was too sensitive, he said. I was hurting him. I didn't care. I
wanted that fine prick in my readied ass. It was literally pulsing with
need. And he wasn't interested. I watched in angry disbelief as he put
his cock away. He said he wasn't into being watched and slipped out the
door behind him.

That was the first indication I had of my wife's presence. I swept my
hair out of my eyes and looked over my shoulder. She was leaning against
the car next to ours fingering her cunt, pinching her carelessly bared
tits. I leaned into the front seat, grabbed the dildo she'd left laying
there. I held it out to her, positioned myself on all fours on the seat.

Ellen lurched forward and took over. The second she drove it between my
ass cheeks, I came again. She blocked my raw scream with her hand and
fucked me with just the savagery I needed. She kept it up even after my
arms collapsed, dropping my face onto the upholstery. She

continued, using both hands, while the seat muffled my choked sobs and
wails. I'm nearly positive I had yet a third orgasm before her arms tired,
but by then I was reduced to delirium. My hips had a life of their own,
kept rolling and thrusting long after the dildo squirted from my hungry
hole and clunked to the floorboard.

8. Chapter - Aftermath

I recall nothing more until Ellen slapped me awake. She was standing
impatiently outside the opened car door.

"Wake up, slut. Time for bed."

I was still in the back seat, but the car was now in our garage. I was
on my back, my knees lifted, with the long dildo hugged tight to my chest.
I awoke with full knowledge of where we'd been, what I'd done. I sucked a
harsh breath and groaned when I tried to move. My ass felt

like the dildo was still inside, heated white hot. The man's cum was
sour in my mouth. An emotion was building in me that I couldn't name.

I saw the next slap coming, but was too sluggish to avoid it.

"I said move, goddamn it!"

I moved. I dragged myself upright. Clambering out of the car and
finding my balance took enormous energy. My compressed, underclad body
weighed tons. I wasn't fast enough for her.

My wife grabbed my long tangled mane and jerked hard. I staggered after
her, off balance, bent forward, flailing my arms to keep from falling.

"You're hurting me," I whined piteously. The back of my mouth was sore
and my jaws ached.

Her only response was to bark a nasty laugh and walk more quickly. The
kitchen again. This time I knew exactly why I was being punished, and
offered no resistance as she put my ankles in a spreader bar I'd never seen
before, cuffed my hands behind me and lifted them toward the

ceiling, bending me into a right angle. She left me there. I was
afraid that I'd collapse and dislocate my shoulders. I hadn't even managed
to adjust to the position before she returned, carrying a full length
mirror. She lowered it to the floor and slid it under me, between my
widely spread legs.

She lit a cigarette. She'd repaired her beautifully sexy face somewhere
along the line. She didn't seem as angry. "Look at yourself, Sheila. I
never want you to forget this."

I was stunned, as if she'd slapped me again. First, of course, I saw my
face. My tangled platinum blonde hair hung down, framing my totally ruined
heavy makeup. My eyes were surrounded by wide black circles of blurred
eyeliner and mascara. The remaining deep emerald and rust eyeshadow looked
bland. My lips looked bruised, were ringed with a wide smear that was all
that remained of my thick lipstick. My false tits looked huge with my
shoulders pinned back. The hem of my wrinkled red minidress had risen, but
I'd have been able to see all the way up anyway from this angle. Where had
the little red panties gone? My retainer dug into the soft flesh of my
groin, hugging my male organs into invisibility. The pale, slim thighs
below were caked with dried cum. My vision swam for a moment. I thought
it was his, that there was a beautiful cunt hidden in there, that it'd
leaked the some of the sperm he'd shot so deeply into my soul.

The stark light of the camera's flash attachment as Ellen photographed
me from every angle jerked me back toward reality.

"Pose for me, baby. Push that great butt out. Can you see how red it
is around your asshole? You were fucked good, whore. Too bad it wasn't
the real thing in there. It'd have felt as good as it did in your throat.
But you know that, right? You wanted it, but the fucker let you down,
didn't he?"

I nodded, remembered to add a verbal "Yes," as well.

"But you know there'll be other times. Any bitch as hot as you are can
get fucked anytime you want. And a nympho cunt like you will want it a
lot. You'll have so many dicks shoved in that tight ass and between those
cocksucking lips that you'll lose count of them."

She fed me the cigarette. I watched my lips suck it, my chest expand as
much as it could given my restraints, then my mouth purse as I exhaled. I
felt her doing something to my left hand, realized she was removing my
wedding band. I'd noted its incongruity once or twice. As

Ellen twisted it off my finger, I realized just how wrong it was to wear
it any longer. Women don't wear wide gold bands. They can't be married
other women in our state. I tried and failed to blink away a rush of
tears. Suddenly, the name of the dull emotion filling me had a name.

It was grief. I was mourning my own death. Ellen's husband was dead,
gone forever. Shamelessly begging to suck that cock, thrilling to each and
every sensation, had sealed his fate, made his resurrection, not merely
unlikely, but impossible. I was Sheila now, body and soul.

I was surprised to feel her doing something else to my ring finger. A
new ring, lighter, thinner, slipped over my knuckle. I strained my neck
but couldn't see it. She slid her hand down my back, cupped my ass cheeks
and petted them.

"How much money do we have in savings?"

Her finger distracted me as it toyed with my tender asshole. Her
question made no sense for a moment. I sniffed away tears enough to speak.
"I, uh, about two thousand, I guess."

"Good. That'll get us started."

"Started?"

"You want real tits, don't you? They cost money, darling. More like
five thousand than two, I think."

Her finger dipped inside me. My eyes locked on the reflection of my
chest in the mirror. Real tits. Nice big, firm mounds hanging there. To
overflow my slinky bras. To fill a bikini top on the beach. To be petted,
sucked and bitten.

Her voice was dim in my ears. She inserted a second finger. "Umm. I
knew that'd turn you on, slut. We'll shave your larynx and change your
voice while we're at it. Maybe someday we'll be able to buy you a nice
tight cunt, too. Have a doctor gut that useless prick and tuck it away

inside you. You'd have three holes, whore. Room for three cocks at the
same time. You'd like that. Three men fucking you. Hands all over you,
driving you crazy with lust."

Her other hand rubbed my too big clit while her fingers wiggled within
me. I was thrusting against her, watching my sleazy lips pant as my
passion again spiraled toward a new peak.

"Oh, honey," I groaned weakly. "Oh, shit. Fuck me, Ellen. Put
something big and fat in me. Something hot and hard. I need it, honey. I
need it bad."

She laughed merrily. "I've got just the thing. I've been saving it for
a special time like this. Ron? Baby, come on in here."

I saw my shock in the mirror more than I felt it. Ron? We had a
neighbor named Ron. A body-builder our age. Married to a dull, silent
girl named Miriam.

Before I could even shape the question in my mind, it was answered. I
saw a pair of hairy, pillar-like legs approach. Barefoot.

"Take over up here," she purred throatily, withdrawing her fingers from
my ass. "I'll get you ready."

Thicker fingers replaced hers, entered me without delicacy. I saw Ellen
sink to her knees, peer at me from between my legs. She licked her
gleaming scarlet lips. Her hands weighed a huge, hairy pair of balls,
massaged a growing cock. Without taking her eyes off me, she kissed its
swelling head, licked it with a lascivious tongue.

"Yeah, I've been fucking Ron for almost a year, Sheila. I love you, but
your puny prick was never enough for me. Fucking you was always more like
screwing a woman with a cock than being with a real man."

Ron laughed at that, making his dick leap in her hand. She gave it a
more lingering kiss, allowing the whole head to enter her mouth, and
moaning around it. Saliva and lipstick clung to it as she let it pop out.

"We fucked with you right in the next room lots of times, Sheila. We
were doing it in the pool house at the Robinson's party when I told him how
much you got off sneaking around in my lingerie. He was the one who
suggested that we bring you out of the closet, cunt. He saw you

staring at his crotch a couple of times and knew how much you'd love
fucking other guys. He helped me plan the whole thing. He deserves a good
fuck, don't you think? He deserves to be the first to dump a wad in your
ass. Give him a good ride, baby."

She guided his swollen, slickened dick between my cheeks. Her eyes
glittered and her lips were parted as she teased me, rubbing the head
around my puckered hole. What she said was true. I'd noticed the size of
his manhood with what I thought was shameful envy. Now I knew

better. It was desire.

My hole was slick and ready. I tried to push against Ron's hard on.
Ellen backed his cock away, continued her maddening flirtation. "Tell him
what you want, Sheila."

From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg

Subject: Repost TG: The Surprise Vacation by an unknown author and
Tristmegistus (5/6)


The_Surprise_Vacation________________by_an_unknown_author_and_Tristmegistus
_ 5

I knew I was doing exactly as she'd said I would. I was begging to be
ass fucked. Without hesitation, I let my needs roll from my slutty mouth.
"Fuck me, Ron. Fuck my ass hard and deep. Please. Give me what you've
been giving Ellen. Cum in me. I need you. I've wanted you ever since I
watched you move in last year. Ram that fat cock all the way in and fuck
me like a whore."

It was nothing like the dildos Ellen had impaled in me. It was hot,
both hard and silky soft - alive! And, it was huge. As he thrust in that
first few inches, I felt myself stretching, and was filled with a burning
agony. If I could have spoken then, I'd have been begging him to stop. I
couldn't. My lips gaped, made a horrified red circle in the mirror. My
heavily made up eyes were huge. Ron yelled in pain and slapped my ass with
a hard, resounding smack. "Relax, cunt! You're hurting me!"

I gasped for breath tried to concentrate on doing what he said. I must
have achieved it, because he slid in deeper, then began a slow pumping.
Each push lessened the pain. The heat of him, the overwhelming fullness of
my ass, felt unlike anything I'd ever known. The mirror

showed his thick shaft disappearing and emerging from my body. Ellen
looked as enraptured as I was. She had one hand in her cunt, was making
wet noises with her fingers. She used the other to alternately hold her
lover's balls and caress my hidden ones.

Overcome with lust, Ron gave up on gentleness. He took my narrow hips
in his hands and pushed hard, forcing the last half of his meat all the way
in. He started slamming into my ass then, without concern for my comfort.
After three of four of his grunting thrusts, I no longer cared. It still
hurt, but the pain became secondary. The sights and sounds and sensations
transported me, mutated the agony, changed it to joy. I started wiggling
my hips, pushed back to greet his plunging cock. I was fucking my wife's
lover, not merely being fucked by him.

It lasted forever and was over too soon. I don't remember Ellen jerking
my retainer off my male organs. I don't know when she started sucking my
straining clit. But I do know that when Ron's pace became frantic, when
his impacts started jarring my teeth and I was positive he was going to
fill me with his cum, I exploded in my wife's hungry mouth with enough
f***e to gag her.

But, glorious as that was, it paled in significance when Ron blew his
wad in my guts. I closed my eyes. I swear to god I felt his jerking spew
all the way to my throat. I milked him, did my best to squeeze every drop
of his precious sperm from him.

As his pulsing diminished, I felt soft lips on mine, tasted the tangy
cum coating them. I returned Ellen's impassioned kiss, sucked my cum from
her full mouth.

Finally, I was whole.

"Thank you," I murmured into her mouth, making our kiss tender, more
loving than I'd known a kiss could be.

My knees were too weak to support me. When they collapsed, my shoulders
were wrenched hideously. Had Ron not still been gripping my hips, I'd have
dislocated them both. He held me up, his cock shrinking rapidly in my ass,
while Ellen stumbled to her feet and dashed for the

rope. As she released it, our lover lowered me to the cold mirror. I
felt his jism leaking from my hole, warm and sticky, as he pulled out. One
of them freed my arms from the handcuffs.

I lay there on my side, frail and helpless, while Ellen and Ron
embraced. Her hand massaged his limp dick while he crushed her against him
and she strained against his hard lips.

She tore her mouth from his. "I want you," she growled. "It's my
turn." She jerked her head to face me. "Get him hard for me, slut."

She led him by the dick to me, pushed him down toward my face. I bathed
his spent flesh in hot, wet, hungry kisses, tenderly took it into my mouth
and nursed on it, felt it begin to swell, fill my cavity. The second prick
to visit my mouth tasted nothing like the first, felt even better. But
Ellen deprived me of it as soon as I'd gotten it hard. She positioned
herself on her hands and knees beside me, guided the pole in her hand
between spread thighs. Her eyes closed blissfully

as he entered her. I reached out and started squeezing her dangling
tits. Ron batted my hands away and grabbed them himself, using them for
handles as he rode her, just as savagely as he had me.

His violent thrusts moved her face closer to me. When her eyes opened,
they were glassy with lust. She attacked my mouth with hers, grunted into
me each time he hammered her. When she started cumming, she bit my lower
lip. Each time she spasmed, she bit harder. When he suddenly

stopped, she whined in shock and need.

His voice was a snarl. "Slide under your cunt of a wife, bitch. Lick
my balls while I fuck her. See how a real woman takes a dick."

I scrambled to obey. I not only kissed and sucked his balls, I also
flicked my tongue over Ellen's swollen clit, lapped the fluids that
overflowed her pussy. Her lips were on my organ again, lapping the cum
that'd oozed from my ass. I was still so loose that her tongue actually
entered me. I humped her face like the wanton slut I was. I had no more
boundaries. A lifetime of limits, of denial, rolled off me like a shed
skin. I embraced my new existence, fit both Ron's tender balls between
widely opened lips and rolled my wife's clit with unabashed abandon.

She began another series of orgasms, had to give up my little dick in
order to howl and scream. I released Ron's testicles when I felt them
tighten. It was astounding to see his huge rod swell and throb and fill
her twitching cunt with another load of cum. As it leaked past her labia,
I devoured it, eliciting still more shrieks from her. Ron jerked out and
rolled away, gasping for breath. I devoured her vacated hole, and she
continued to cum, continued to shrilly cry out,

wracked by spasms I refused to let end.

Finally, sobbing, she fell on top of me, moving her throbbing groin out
of reach.

A sated, warm relaxation enveloped me. I only vaguely recall the chill
when Ellen rolled off me. She and Ron spoke softly, but I could make no
sense of their words. I sank into a deep peaceful sl**p.

9. Chapter - Awakening

There was a vague noise. It was dark. The bed was far too hard, too
cold. I was curled into a tight ball. When I began to roll over, I was
ripped by pain. My ass. My jaws. My shoulders. I moaned.

"Wake up, whore." The ceiling light flared blindingly.

Memory filled me, and my pain was explained. I was still on the kitchen
floor.

Ellen leaned against the doorframe, smoking. She wore only high heels
and hose. Her nipples were swollen. Bite marks decorated the slope of her
tits. Her makeup was mostly gone. What remained made her look cheap, used
- and beautiful.

I tried to speak. My throat was dry, raw, emitted only a croak.

"Ron went home," she explained. "We're through with the bed. Get your
sleazy ass up there."

I was afraid I'd have to crawl up the stairs, but somehow managed to
climb painfully to my feet. I used the walls to keep myself erect and
followed her swaying ass and trail of smoke.

She released me from the corset and made me sl**p in the huge wet spot
they'd left on the sheets. Each breath filled me with the perfume of their
fucking. I'd been good enough to earn a night in bed. No chains. The
world faded again.

It was still dark when I awoke, my bowels and bladder both demanding
relief. I eased Ellen's arm off me and tiptoed into the bathroom. It hurt
so much that I was afraid I was shitting bl**d, but my stool looked
perfectly normal. Wiping was agonizing. I shuddered a little, remembering
how huge Ron had felt in me, and hoped that being fucked wasn't always
going to hurt so much.

I steeled myself before using the mirror, but the glass wasn't the enemy
it had been. Even without the corset, I was able to convince myself that
my image was that of an undeveloped - rather, a developing - woman. Those
sweet lips had hosted two cocks after all, and the

dimpled ass had taken its first prick. I squeezed and lifted my chest.
If I continued to please Ellen, my tits would grow into firm globes like
hers. Men could suck them, slide their greased dicks between them as I
pressed them together. I'd could kiss the cock heads at the top of their
thrusts, watch them swell and eject their sperm all over my face.

I renewed my vow to be good and fought down the urge to stroke my hard
clit.

I was ready to turn off the light and go back to bed when I finally
noticed the ring. Where my wedding band had been was a small diamond
engagement ring. A stab of sadness knifed me, the grief that'd been cut
off before. I hurriedly flicked off the light, but the emotion wasn't so
easily banished. It clung to me like stale sperm, refusing to allow me to
get back to sl**p.

Mourning my own death was hard. There was no corpse to shed tears over,
nothing to bury so the healing could begin. I lay there until Ellen awoke.
I went through the motions of bathing, dressing, applying my makeup,
fetching and carrying for her on command. If she noticed my

silent anguish, she made no comment.

After I'd done the breakfast dishes, she had me give us both manicures.
She was surly, terse, easily upset. She smoked heavily and her every word
dripped with scorn. Nothing I did was quite good enough. I was extremely
cautious, not wanting to do anything to upset her further. A

sinking feeling was added to my vague sorrow. Something was wrong. She
left me to do my chores and vanished into our bedroom.

It was a little after two in the afternoon when she came downstairs,
dressed to kill in the wet looking black minidress and metal-tipped
stiletto heels. Her makeup and bearing were those of a call girl. I was
nearly finished mopping the kitchen floor. She stood close enough to let
me see that, as before, her shaven cunt was exposed between her mesh hose
and garter belt. I felt plain in my work clothes and minimal makeup.

"I'm going out. I want you to meet me in the airport Hilton bar at
eight. Wear something really slutty, Sheila. There's someone I want you
to meet."

"Are you ..." I swallowed. "Is Ron ..."

"This has nothing to do with Ron, darling. It's strictly for us. But
it's very important - maybe the most important date you'll ever have - so
look your best. Understand?"

I let my eyes fall from her moist pussy back to the vinyl. "Do you have
to go so early? I mean -"

Her smoky laugh was sharp enough to interrupt me. "Is my little fag
bitch scared to be alone? Or just jealous that I may be getting my brains
fucked out while you're doing housework?"

I blushed. "You've never left me by myself before."

"Of course I have, love. At the beauty salon, and right here in this
room. You've spent hours all by yourself. Your chains and ropes are just
invisible now." She stroked my long hair, pulled my head against her belly,
rubbed my cheek over her sleekly covered mons. "Would you like to kiss my
pussy goodbye? Get it nice and moist for the cock that may be in it in a
while?"

I nodded. She planted her feet to either side of my head. I slid the
skirt up and exposed her brown-lipped lower mouth. She rocked up and down
on my tongue and nose until my face was wet with her flow. As I ate her, I
was overcome with desire. She was going out, going to get herself laid for
some mysterious purpose, and I was preparing her for whoever would part
these very lips with a prick. I wondered how often she'd done this sort of
thing without my knowledge. I wondered how many men had fucked her eager
pussy while I watched a stupid football games or stayed late at the office.
I wondered if Ron knew what a slut she was. And, I wondered who she'd
fixed me up with, who'd be fucking my ass or mouth in a few hours - and why
it was so important.

She abruptly jerked her flooded core from my hungry mouth, ending my
lusty reverie. Her voice was low and throaty. "Take off your blouse,
baby. I need to tighten your corset before I leave."

It was the red one. As she strained against the laces, compressing my
waist to at least twenty-two inches, I was already visualizing what I'd
wear to meet her. How many loads of cum would her body have absorbed by
the time I arrived? A sudden thought stopped my impassioned

planning. "How will I get there? To the hotel?"

"A cab, of course. I left twenty dollars on the vanity."

Somehow the idea of taking a taxi was more intimidating than getting
dressed to go fuck some stranger. I tried to hide my nerves, as well as my
shameful excitement. Her crooked scarlet smile told me I failed at both.
She tied off my laces, smoothed her dress to cover as much as it could, and
swayed out without another word. I listened as her metal shod heels
clacked over the floor, silently crossed the carpet, then echoed for a few
strides in the garage. The door ground open. I

watched from the window as she backed down the drive, cigarette dangling
between slick, fat red lips. I saw Jerome Hillyard, our neighbor across
the street, stare open mouthed at the change that'd taken place in her.
Had he done more than stare? Had she fucked him, too? How many of our
neighbors had dipped their wicks in Ellen's hot hole? A lot of them, I
perversely hoped, twisting the engagement band circling my ring finger.

I fought the urge to dash upstairs and begin getting ready. It was too
soon. And Ellen had made it clear that she expected all my work to be done
before I left the house. I compelled myself to settle down and do the
laundry.

I'd barely fixed my lipstick and gotten started when the doorbell rang.
I froze in the midst of loading the dryer with damp lingerie. I couldn't
answer the door! What if it was Jerome, or some other acquaintance? I
couldn't let anybody see me like this! I decided to ignore it, pretend I
wasn't home. But whoever was there leaned insistently on the buzzer.

I peeked from the laundry room window, was simultaneously thrilled and
dismayed to see that it was Ron. I was hesitant to let him in without
Ellen there. He'd want to know where she'd gone, what she was doing. He
was liable to fly into a jealous rage. But he obviously wasn't

going to leave.

Checking my face in the mirror, I fluffed my hair a little and hurried
nervously to the door. I wouldn't let him in. I'd tell him we were busy,
that I'd have Ellen call as soon as she could.

But, the instant I opened the door a crack, he pushed it wider and
stepped past me.

"Ellen's busy," I blurted, hiding behind the door, leaving it open.
"Maybe you should come back -"

"Ellen's gone. I saw the car drive up the block a few minutes ago." He
ambled insolently to the couch and sat down.

"Then what ..." I began, but my voice failed me. Was he here to see me?

"Close the door and come over here, bitch. I've been thinking about
that tight asshole of yours all day. I want another piece of it."

I blushed, both fearful and flattered. I was sure Ellen wouldn't want
him to use me unless she was here to watch. He was her boyfriend, after
all. "I don't think that's a good idea, Ron." I kept the door cracked.

"Oh, come off it, slut! Don't play hard to get. We both know that's
pure bullshit. You know you want it. You let me know last night how much
you liked it. So get your sleazy ass over here. Wrap those hot lips
around my dick and let me fuck that sexy face. If you're real good, I may
even let you jack off while I drill your ass."

He was right, of course. I did want it. I had the instant I saw him
through the window. I vividly remembered how grand it'd been to be filled,
stretched, used like I was a real woman. Honestly, part of his
attractiveness was because he was Ellen's lover. Having the prick that'd
been in her so many times rammed into me made me feel even more weak kneed.
It'd be wicked to fuck him behind her back. But, if I got caught ...

Wickedness won out. Besides, if I resisted, he'd just take me anyway.
What could I do? Call the police and scream ****? Run madly from the
house? I leaned against the door and flipped the deadbolt.

He wasn't into small talk or foreplay. As I approached, both eager and
timid, Ron pointed to the floor between his legs. I sank to my knees,
staring at the growing lump hidden by his shorts. It knew how large it
was, what it tasted like. And this time, I didn't have to share it with
anyone. I was alone with my first man. I was betraying Ellen just like
she had me. I was as big a whore as she was. Saliva began to fill my
mouth.

But I wanted information along with his dick. I wanted to know how
large a role he'd played in changing me into the cock hungry bitch I'd
become in less than a week. So, as I reached out to lightly massage his
cock, I licked my lips and tried to milk him of more than his cum.

"I meant to thank you last night for everything you've done to help
Ellen."

His laugh was brutal. "Jesus. I can't believe you're really into it
this much. How can any man let this happen to him without a fight?"

I slowly lowered his zipper. "I'm not just any man," I told his
swelling groin. "I've always been a wimp. I think I've wanted to be like
this all my life, but never had the courage to admit it. I thought you
knew that."

"Not until Ellen told me about how much you got off on her clothes and
shit."

My hand reached his flesh. It was so warm, so silky. "I wish she'd
told you sooner. How long did you two plan this?"

He drew a harsh breath as I fished his manhood from his underwear and
loose shorts. It was beautiful. It nestled against my curved red nails
like an eager pet begging to be stroked.

"Six months or so, I guess. God, you're sexy. Kiss it, bitch."

I teased the head with my tongue. I wanted the whole thing buried in my
throat, but was enraptured with the power of my situation. Ellen had made
me beg. Ron had, too, the night before. I wanted to turn the tables. He
already wanted me, but I needed him to crave me, to plead with me.

"Tell me about it. It's so exciting, Ron. I want to hear everything."

While I tinted his cock flesh with my brilliant lip color, while I
licked his hairy sack, I prompted him to keep talking.

"I knew the look," he groaned. "Guys have been looking at my dick in
the shower, just the way you did, ever since I was a k**. I knew right off
you were a fag, and couldn't figure out why a gorgeous bitch like Ellen
stayed with you. Ooh, shit. Deeper, baby."

I tried to angle my head, to fit more of him between my bulging lips.
Pink saliva glistened the length of his rod. It felt like my mouth had
been designed to do this. "More," I gasped. "Tell me more."

"Ahh! That's it!" he groaned as my questing lips took more meat,
stretched to reach for his balls. His hips started to rise and fall.
"Ellen laughed when I told her how you looked at me. That's when she
started watching you closer and caught you messing around in her shit. I
told her I thought you'd make a hot looking slut. God, was I ever right!
Oh, yeah! Suck it, baby!"

I was thrilled beyond words when my throat seemed to open and I
swallowed him. My smeared lips nestled at the very root of his prick. I'd
done it! I stayed there, immobile but for my spasming throat and questing
lips, until black motes swam before my eyes and I was compelled to release
him and gasp air. I stared down in astonishment at his glistening eight
inches. I was ready to cum. I resisted the impulse to reach down and
touch myself and rocket into heaven. I wanted this to last. I wanted to
hear more. I was certain I could make him tell me whatever I wanted.

"You wanted me, too," I purred, lapping the length of his staff with my
tongue. "You've always wanted me to suck your cock, haven't you?"

"Yeah. I knew you'd be good. Almost every time I fucked Ellen, I
dreamed of you looking like this, doing this. I wanted to hurry things
along. Your bitch of a wife insisted we had to go slow."

"Umm," I said, taking him half way in then backing off. "Good things
come to those who wait, lover. Am I as good as she is?"

"Better," he growled, grabbing my hair and jerking my head down. Now
that I knew how, I let him impale every wonderful inch into me. "She won't
let me fuck her ass, and deep throat makes her puke."

He humped my mouth until I was afraid I was going to pass out. I had to
struggle free. My voice was raw. I felt crazed by my need for what was
happening. But there was still a glimmer of caginess left in me, as if it
was part of my widening lust. "You can do anything you want

to me. I don't care. The dirtier and nastier, the better. I love
being treated like a cheap whore. Was that your idea, too?"

"Yeah. Nothing turns my crank more than sluts in tight dresses and wild
makeup. The first time I made Ellen dress up for me, I fucked her for four
hours non-stop. I made her cum until she begged me to quit. She loved it,
too. I knew she would. Anybody who wanted to turn her old man into a
fucking woman had to be really twisted. Turns out she couldn't get enough
after that."

I was pumping him with both hands, letting my mouth writhe over the top
half of his erection. I didn't know how much more I could take. My
sphincter muscles were tightening and loosening on my butt plug. My ass
felt moist, more than ready.

"Did you make her fuck other guys? Did you make her dress cheap and
take her out and show her off?"

He was close to losing control. "We went to parties. It was her idea.
But she never hosed anybody else. I wondered if maybe she wanted to, but
it ever happened. I let her flirt, dance, make them hot, then I'd take her
into a bedroom and fuck her stupid. We'd go back and party

some more and my cum would be running down her legs." He struggled up in
the sofa, tried to pry me off his cock. "Has she been fucking around? Has
she?"

"No!" I insisted, kissing just the head of his hard treasure. "Of
course not! You keep her so well fucked, how could she?"

"Have you fucked her, slut? Have you poked that little dick of your
inside her pussy?"

I pulled on his cock and backed away from the sofa. "Not for almost a
month - and never again. I eat her whenever she wants. I can make her cum
with my tongue better than I ever could the other way. Come here, Ron.
I'm so fucking hot. My ass needs you so bad. Fuck me. Please. Fill my
hot little ass with that huge thing. Make me scream. Fuck me hard and
mean and shoot your cum way, way up inside me. Tell me what's going to
happen next, baby."

He stroked himself, staring at me with burning eyes while I wiggled out
of my tight jeans. I'm not even sure he knew he was speaking.

"She going to do like she said. She's going to get you tits. Make you
get a job as a woman. She says she's got friends who can help."

I curled my legs up toward my chest, spread my ass cheeks so he could
see me remove my plug. The sensation of having him watch me readying
myself for him was a thrill as intense as swallowing his entire length had
been. He was so big, so strong. I was weak and small - yet I was in
control.

He leapt toward me, rolled me over onto my stomach. "Wait," I
whispered. "I want this to be good. The best you've ever had, Ron. I want
to make my asshole slick and wet for you. I want to lube myself with my
cum. When you fuck me, it'll be like fucking myself."

I had him hypnotized. I relished having my ass raised for him, peeling
away my retainer, exposing my purpled, lust heavy cock and balls. I knew
something he didn't. He was as gay as I was. He wanted me more than he
ever wanted Ellen. I could have made him suck me, as I had him - but a sly
part of me knew that if I did, I'd lose control of him. He'd be too
sickened by what he'd done to ever be nice to me again. He needed to
believe he was the neighborhood's straight, macho, musclebound hunk. So, I
gripped myself, tickled myself with my long painted nails and teased him
yet more. I bent my rod back and imagined it was sliding up my ass. It
only took a few moments. I gasped, with my inflamed cheek pressed into the
carpet, while I pumped sticky

streams toward my back door and rubbed my sperm into my tender flesh,
dipping my fingers into my loosened asshole, pushing as much cum as I could
inside myself.

My voice was hollow with need. "Do it, Ron. Fuck me. Do it now."

I took him much easier than I had the first time. There was no pain or
chain to distract me. Like my mouth, my ass now seemed designed for cock.
I revelled in the spoils of my seduction, the depth of his hammering
thrusts. I had more power as a woman than I'd ever had as a man. My body
had become a real tool for pleasure. Cindy had given me my retainer in
return for sexual favors and told me how fantastic I was. The man I'd
sucked at the bar had paid me with a drink and cigarettes in return for the
blowjob of his life. I'd wrapped Ron around my painted pinky. I was
beginning to think I might be able to manipulate Ellen, if I was careful.

Ron's pummelling was taking its toll on me. My cock had rehardened.
When I angled my hips just right, it felt like he was fucking the inside of
my overgrown clit. Sharp electric bolts tore through me, and all thoughts
were buried beneath the cascade of sensation. When he howled and filled my
guts with his cream, I jerked and spewed in sympathy. He collapsed atop
me, his mass pinning me to the carpet. Being held and having my neck
kissed between his ragged breaths was

almost as rewarding as being fucked.

"You are one fine lay, cunt," he sighed into my ear. "We'll have to do
this again."

I carefully squeezed my buttocks together, caressing his still buried
dick. "Any time, darling. But right now, I'd better get up and get back
to my housework or Ellen's going to be really pissed."

"Speaking of the queen cunt, what's she up to?"

"She didn't say," I lied. I was protecting her. Ron was obviously
unaware he wasn't her only source of cock. He may or may not have been the
one to awaken in her a taste for tight dresses and heavy makeup, but I was
ninety-nine percent certain that today wasn't her first solo foray into the
world of bar sex. The only reason she hadn't gotten laid the night before
was because she needed to watch me get it so badly.

"Maybe it'd be a good idea not to mention that I dropped by," he said as
he raised his hips, freeing his limp meat with a soft sound that echoed
inside me.

I felt empty. My ass clutched around nothingness. Well, not quite. I
felt his cum oozing from my still opened hole. "Whatever you say, Ron."
Another rush made me shiver. It was almost time to wrap myself in the red
outfit, paint my face as nastily as I knew how, climb in a cab and go to a
hotel bar. I felt hot all over, and eager for Ron to leave.

Luckily, he was ready to go, too. A thought struck me as he rolled me
over for a farewell kiss to my smeared mouth. "Could you do me a little
favor before you go?" I asked him between tastes of his mouth.

"Sure."

"Help me change shoes. I still can't reach my ankles very well when I'm
in my corset." I smiled inwardly. Would Ellen wonder how I'd managed this
trick? "And, while you're here, maybe you could tighten my laces a little.
They seem to have worked loose somehow," I giggled.

I didn't complain that he overdid the tightening a little, reducing my
waist to closer to twenty inches, swelling what little tits I had even
more. After he strapped the towering red heels to my slim ankles, I reached
up and kissed him goodbye, feeling his prick already stirring against my
tiny belly. The fact that I could do that to a man who'd just cum inside
me a few minutes before made me feel very good. I was a foxy little slut.
Everybody who saw me would want me, and I wanted

to be desired, to be lusted after.

So, the instant I locked the door behind my lover, I cleaned up the cum
staining the carpet, but decided to take a risk and forget about my other
tasks, despite the consequences. I had much more important things to take
care of.

10. Chapter - Changes

My heart was hammering wildly by the time the taxi pulled into the
drive. I'd asked the dispatcher to make sure the driver didn't honk, but
apparently he hadn't gotten the word, because he did anyway, long and loud.
The entire neighborhood was alerted, no doubt peeking out their windows to
see what was going on. Horrified, I debated what to do. The cabbie again
leaned on the horn. Waiting was only going to make it worse. I bolted
from the front door, praying I wouldn't be recognized for what I was.

My prayer was ignored. Nosy Jerome, across the street, was plainly
visible, again drop-jawed. First he'd witnessed Ellen's departure, clad in
her skintight black minidress and wearing ten pounds of makeup. Now, some
strange woman - me, her lighter twin - in just as few clothes

and just as much makeup. The proverbial cat was probably out of the
bag.

I was mildly surprised by how little I cared. Unless relocation was in
Ellen's plans, the neighbors would no doubt see much more of me in the
future. I was absolutely determined that my two week vacation would
stretch out to encompass the rest of my life. I settled into the seat

and crossed my legs.

The driver was watching me in the mirror. I favored him with a bright
smile. He apparently wasn't used to picking up women who looked like
streetwalkers in such a respectable part of the city. I knew exactly what
my clinging, flame red dress, shimmering platinum blonde mane, and

gaudy makeup made me look like.

Being outside the house without Ellen was almost s much fun as fucking
without her at my side. I felt free to do whatever I wanted. I teased the
driver to distraction with my legs and lips, pretending I was ignorant of
what I was doing to him. But, when I leaned forward to ask him for a
cigarette, I saw the tent his erection was making in his pants. I toyed
with the idea of sucking him off rather than paying cash for my fare, but I
didn't find him all that attractive, and I wasn't very horny. Besides, I
was already nearly late and didn't want to risk Ellen's wrath.

As it turned out, it wouldn't have mattered a whole lot. I was slowed
by fear the moment I stepped from the cab. This was a very busy place.
Travelers were leaving and arriving as if this hotel was the airport
itself. My newly discovered confidence was shaken by the hustle and

bustle. I tapped into the bar, feeling scrutinized by thousands of
eyes. It was packed, of course. I scanned the tables and barstools
nervously and found no sign of Ellen. No tables were vacant, although by
the looks I was getting, I could have joined any number of solo males. I
opted for the view a seat at the bar would give me.

I stood out radically in the somberly dressed mob. The dim light didn't
seem to dull my screaming red dress, and I felt like my long silver-blonde
tresses reflected every bit of available light. For the first time since
Ellen had left, I missed her. Had she been there at my side, I'd have
revelled in the attention that saturated me. Instead, I felt vulnerable,
exposed - and scared.

I spent the last of my twenty dollars on a glass of wine. I wouldn't
have had to, of course. There was very little I'd have ever had to buy for
myself, dressed like that in a hotel bar. While that notion thrilled me
more than a little, it did nothing to banish my uneasiness. Where was
Ellen?

I rebuffed three thinly veiled offers of "a drink or something," and my
rejections earned me a little space. Apparently, I wasn't the readily
available bar girl I appeared, they must have reasoned. My self-confidence
began to return. But the fourth voice in my ear startled me when the man
it belonged to called me by name.

"You must be Sheila," came the gutturally accented baritone.

I stared for a long, uncomfortable moment. He was tall and thin, with a
mop of unkempt blondish hair. He slouched and his tie was crooked, making
his suit look too expensive for him.

If I'd been able to maintain the mood Ron left me in, feeling as brazen
as my outfit, I'd have smiled provocatively and come back with something
witty. Instead, I blurted, "Where's Ellen?" acting as

insecure as I felt.

His smile was mysterious. At least I was able to identify his accent as
Germanic. "I am Hans. Ellen is upstairs in a meeting and has asked you to
join us." He performed one of those silly little stiff continental
half-bows and offered me his arm.

Upstairs meant a hotel room. My throat tightened and my clit gave a
little lurch. I stood, nervously smoothed my skirt, and tried to take his
elbow like I'd been doing it all my life. It was a curiously pleasing
sensation to be e****ted so formally back through the bar and lobby toward
the elevators. My mind was spinning. Meeting? What exactly did that
mean? It was an odd term, applied to Ellen the way she'd acted when she
left me that afternoon. The only business she'd

acted capable of transacting was on her back with her legs flung wide.

I was staggered. Literally. Hans gave me a concerned look as he pushed
the call button. I feigned a reassuring smile. Was that it? Was Ellen
selling her cunt? The conversation in the bar in the mall replayed itself.
The one about her cigarettes. What if, she'd said, she'd been dressing and
making herself up like that and "going out" for six months - about the time
she and Ron had hatched their plot. I'd assumed then that she'd been
trying to hurt me. While I'd sucked Ron's

dick, I'd imagined that there'd been some truth to her hypothetical
statement, that he'd uncovered in her a desire to look and act like a
tramp. But I hadn't imagined she'd actually whore herself. Surely, I'd
have known. Ruefully, I admitted that I hadn't known anything about my
wife until a week ago.

The dinging arrival of the elevator jolted me from my reverie. In the
close confines of the metal box, my e****t smelled of liquor and tobacco. A
quick craving for a cigarette grabbed me.

Speaking took effort. "Excuse me, Hans. May I have a cigarette?"

They were imported. He made no comment about the no smoking sign as he
lit it for me. The lighter was an ornate gold thing that matched the case
in which he kept his tobacco. It was harsh and oddly satisfying. My
lipstick was almost invisible against the dark brown paper.

I kept my voice going. "Uh, what kind of 'meeting' is this?"

He nodded, frowning slightly, as if confirming something. "As I
thought, she hasn't discussed this with you. Your friend has been in
contact with myself and several of my colleagues for a number of months."
His voice registered deep disapproval.

Ellen had introduced herself as my friend? To discuss what? Instead of
asking those questions, I quickly reassured him. "She and I are very
close. I'm sure she meant this as a surprise."

His expression softened. "In that case, perhaps I have said too much?"

I squeezed his bicep, gave him a soft smile. "It'll be our secret."

His thin lips curved upwards and his eyes more or less politely measured
by body. "As you wish. I must say, you seem quite well adjusted."

I felt myself pale. He knew about the secret between my legs. I was
confused. Should I feel betrayed or flattered? I took smoke very
carefully to cover my embarrassment. The elevator door opened at the top
floor. Again I accepted his arm. The far wall of the hall was mirrored. I
saw an extremely sexy little blonde woman, clad in fuck-me red, on the arm
of a tall thin man. She was gorgeous, in a brazen way, but her visible
discomfort was spoiling her desirability.

From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg

Subject: Repost TG: The Surprise Vacation by an unknown author and
Tristmegistus (6/6)

6
_The_Surprise_Vacation_______________by_an_unknown_author_and_Tristmegistus
_

Angry at myself, I hugged my e****t's arm more tightly, deliberately
pressed my thigh to his as we walked down the hall. He squeezed my arm and
smiled. He knew, but he didn't mind being close to me. Was he the
"special friend" I was to meet? Was I being nice enough to him? And,

above all, was he going to fuck me? If Ellen was whoring herself, was
she going to sell my holes to this man and his "colleagues?" My belly
hollowed, not entirely with fear.

I was anticipating a sordid scene as Hans turned to face a door and
swung it open. My throat was tight. Would the room be filled with men?
Maybe I'd see Ellen on her hands and knees, sucking one cock while being
fucked by another, or ...

What I was presented with was even more shocking. Ellen sat at the head
of a table with three men. They were examining papers, not her pussy. Her
makeup and hair weren't mussed. I felt a shameful stab of disappointment.
She glanced up from what she was reading, and the room fell silent as all
eyes focused on me.

They weren't the kind of looks I was growing accustomed to. They were
cold, clinical, examining me more like a side of beef than a target of
lust. I felt like a fool. Ellen had set me up, led me to believe that I
was coming here to get laid - and I'd eagerly leapt at the chance to

open my orifices to whoever wanted them.

A blast of raw sanity ripped through me. I saw myself as I was, for the
first time in days. I wasn't a woman. I was a married male with a dark,
newly revealed, twisted taste for cock. I was a sham, a parody, a pathetic
joke. My sickness had filled me. I'd given myself over to it. I'd
embraced my depravity, wanting to believe I'd had no choice. I'd lied to
myself all the way along. If I'd really wanted to, I could have resisted
Ellen's dominance and torture. I'd had more

opportunities than I could count to stubbornly say no, to insist that
this charade end. I hadn't, purely because I'd craved every last moment of
what had happened to me. I'd needed the excuses her coercion provided.

All this in one of those wordless insights that take up such a paltry
amount of clock time, yet change everything. Ellen was just beginning to
part her lips and introduce me. Her associates, or whatever they were, had
yet to complete their scan of me. In that mere instant, I'd shed my slutty
horniness and was wallowing in full-blown despair.

A strange numbness kept the scene at a distance. It was like I was
floating somewhere near the ceiling, emotionlessly observing what was going
on below as if it was happening to someone else. I mechanically took the
chair Hans held for me. I saw my legs cross, felt the casual smile on my
lips. Shouldn't I be crying, I remember wondering, almost idly? I sensed
that this was probably one of the most critical moments of my life and was
astonished by the feeling of peace enveloping me.

They were all European physicians specializing in various aspects of
gender re-assignment. Ellen had sought them out months before. They were
there to assess me. If I passed their examinations, I was to become a
woman.

In my altered state of consciousness, I felt no qualms, no hesitation. I
basked in the glow of Ellen's proud smile. Yes, I quietly insisted, this
is what I wanted, with all my heart. No, there was no chance I'd regret
such a momentous decision. I was committed. No, I didn't need

the traditional year of living in female guise to be sure. I was ready,
right then.

The interview took three gruelling hours. Two of the doctors had mild
reservations, but I swayed the other two, Hans and a younger Frenchman man
named Jordan. I didn't, of course, leap on an airplane and fly to Denmark
to have my cock made into a cunt, although nothing would have made me
happier. There were arrangements to be made - and finances to be arranged.
It was agreed, though, that I'd receive breast implants in the near future.

Ellen invited them to stay for drinks. Jordan and Hans accepted, and
Ellen called room service while I stepped into the suite's bedroom to
freshen up. As I touched up my face, I began to exit the trance-like state
I'd been wrapped in, and the reality of my choice took hold. It wasn't
fear that emerged, but excitement. A shiver rippled through me as I stared
at the pale flesh of my cleavage and the twin swells below. In ten days,
my corset would embrace living flesh, not molded latex. I could flaunt
them with even deeper necklines. Men could suck them, pinch them, slide
their pricks between them.

My sharp, curved nails worked my false nipples and my real ones
stiffened in sympathy. The thrill settled in, became heat. When the door
opened and Ellen slid through, I was still standing before the mirror,
seeing myself as I was to become. In my mind, I was already a woman, not a
cross-dressed fag slut.

She walked up behind me, encircled my waist with her arms, and hugged
me. I settled against her with a sigh, nestled my head in the cup of her
shoulder, feeling the softness of her tit against my neck.

"You liked my little surprise?" she whispered.

I nodded, nuzzling her tit.

"Would you like to thank Jordan and Hans for their kindness?"

My belly hollowed. "Do you think they'd like that?"

"That's why they stayed, darling."

"To fuck me?"

"To fuck both of us."

She was right. For the first time, I experienced the delirious pleasure
of giving a blow job while having my ass filled, and watching Ellen receive
identical treatment. The only thing about the following hours I didn't
enjoy was being stripped of my corset, having my distinctly masculine body
made love to by Jordan. I hid behind my long silver hair, stared at my
lovely hands while he fucked my ass, cursing hoarsely in French.

They left us around three a.m. I fell asl**p in the hotel room bed,
curled in Ellen's arms, after lapping every bit of cum I could reach from
her pussy and ass and mouth. I was more content than I knew I could be.
Three man had enjoyed my body that day. All of them had known everything
there was to know about me, and lusted after me anyway. As I sank into
sl**p, I dimly realized that for the first time I was completely unashamed
of what I was.

I awoke disoriented. It took a few seconds to realize where I was. The
bed beside me was empty, but the faint sound of the shower emanating from
the bathroom told me where Ellen was. I stretched, relishing the faint
soreness of my ass. I'd been penetrated there four times, had wildly
humped the men riding me, and felt almost no distracting discomfort. I
fingered myself. My hole was loose and moist. I was ready for more. I
rolled to my feet and padded in to join Ellen in the shower. There wasn't
a cock in the room, so I settled for a pussy, backing my companion into a
corner of the stall, eating her until her knees went weak and she tried to
pull my entire

head into her slit.

I felt so beautiful as I dressed and made myself up that I was almost in
tears. I wanted everyone to know. I wanted to be stared at, desired,
seduced. Ellen's mood was much more reserved, but I barely noticed. I
felt free, in an all new way. I was ecstatically aware, as we made our way
back to the car, of the wide sway of my ass and the bounce of my tits. I
was totally at ease with the way my every move was watched, and easily met
the eyes of those staring at me.

I didn't catch Ellen's anger until we were well on our way home, and
even then she had to slap me with it.

"You're nothing but a fucking tramp," she spat with venom after I'd
favored another driver with a wide red smile.

I was shocked by the depth of her rage. I studied the floorboard. "I'm
sorry. I just feel -"

"Nothing to be sorry about, bitch. You are what you are. Actually, I'm
pleased. It'll make what we have to do a lot easier if I don't have to
f***e you." She didn't sound pleased.

I drew on my cigarette, nervously rubbed at the lipstick on the filter.
"What do we have to do?" I asked very quietly.

Her laugh was a harsh bark. "We have to make a lot of money for your
surgery."

I stared blankly at her for a moment, then looked out the window. I
didn't want her to see my smile. There weren't many ways to raise the
three thousand dollars we needed in ten days. I was going to be a very
busy girl for a while. The only question in my mind was if she was going
to whore herself on bar stools beside me. I hoped so. I really liked
sharing with her.

End... Continue»
Posted by klammer 1 year ago  |  Categories: Masturbation, Masturbation  |  Views: 775  |  1

Surprise



The Surprise Vacation


CHAPTER ONE - INNOCENT BEGINNINGS

"Did you take your vitamin, dear?" Ellen called from the
bathroom.
I rubbed sl**p from my eyes and picked up the pill bottle,
rolling a big tablet into my palm. "My horse pill? I'm doing it
now."
"Have you noticed any difference yet?"
"Nah. Vitamins are pretty much all alike." She'd gone on a
minor health kick a month before, insisting that I needed to lose
a little weight and take better care of myself. I hadn't
actually made it to the gym to work out like she was though.
"Where's my underwear honey?" I asked my wife, poking
through my almost empty drawer. It was Saturday morning. I had
noticed that my underwear had been disappearing from my drawer
over the last couple of weeks. I thought nothing of it, figuring
that she'd simply been too busy to do laundry.
"Something went wrong with the washing machine and it ruined
everything in the last load," she said.
"Well, what am I going to wear?"
She emerged from the bathroom, dipped into her side of the
dresser. "Here, put these on," she smiled, handing me a pair of
her pink satin panties. "Now don't give me any fake macho
bullshit. I know you love wearing my panties. In fact, I know
you've secretly worn this very pair before."
I looked at her dumbfounded. I thought that I'd successfully
hidden my fetish from her. I'd been so careful.
"C'mon, let's put these on you,"she teased. I was beet red
as I numbly stepped into them and let her pull them up to my
hips. She stroked my cock through the fabric, a lot like I often
did. "Mmmm, I see that someone finds this exiting. We may have
to keep it like that." I wasn't sure what she meant by that
remark, but was too embarrassed to ask. I hurriedly put the rest
of my clothes on, jeans and a T-shirt. She gave me a slightly
disapproving look and said, "Well, I need take you shopping and
get some new underwear for you, among other things."
I said, "Can't you just pick up some for me? I want to
look at that washing machine and watch the football game."
Since she absolutely despises football, this would normally
have set her off on a tirade, but surprisingly, she just smiled
sweetly and said, "Don't worry about the washer. I fixed it
myself. Go ahead and enjoy your football honey. I'll get
everything you need."
So while she was shopping, I lay on the couch stroking
myself through the panties, embarrassed that my wife knew of my
fetish, but relieved that she seemed so low key about it. The
game turned out to be pretty boring and I thought about raiding
her closet for something else to wear, but now that she knew, I
couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I ended up taking a
nap. I woke up when she came home, loaded with bags from various
stores. I started to get up to help.
"Just stay there, I'll put everything away. What do you say
that we go out for dinner?"
"That sounds like a good idea."
"Great. But first, I have a surprise for you. Stand up and
close your eyes." I remembered that teasing look, that
flirtatious tone.
We hadn't played sex games in a long time. In fact, we
hadn't done anything sexual in a long time. With a smile, I
stood and did as she asked. The next thing I knew, she pulled my
hands behind my back and locked them with a pair of handcuffs!
"What's this all about?"
"No comments from the peanut gallery," she said as she
put some sort of gag in my mouth.
Whatever it was filled up my whole mouth, all the way to the
top of my throat! As I explored it with my tongue, I realized
that it was a penis gag. What was going on?
"Now come along peacefully, or I'll have to take further
steps." With that I followed her into the bathroom. She took my
hands and tied a strap to them and pulled it up to the shower
curtain, forcing me to bend over at the waist. She then took a
pair of scissors and proceeded to cut my clothes off, ruining
jeans I could have just stepped out of. It was all pretty kinky,
even for Ellen's sometimes bizarre moods, but except for the
embarrassment of having something shaped like a penis in my
mouth, it seemed harmless.
"You won't be needing those anymore," she said, tossing the
rags that had been my jeans and tee-shirt down the laundry chute.
She then took some shaving cream and a razor and proceeded
to shave every bit of hair below my eyebrows. I definitely
didn't like the turn things were taking, but fighting her while
she stroked my most private parts didn't seem like a good idea -
and there wasn't a whole lot I could do about it, anyway.
"I think that since you like wearing panties so much, you
should have the experience of everything else that goes along
with it," she explained as she worked over my underarms. "You'll
find that all of your old clothes have been replaced with
something more suitable for your new station. I think that about
does it. Step in the shower and let's rinse you off."
There was nothing I could do except slide the strap down the
bar and step under the water. I was bewildered. Surely she
hadn't really thrown out all my clothes! As she rinsed all of
the hairy soap off of my body, my skin felt strange, tingly and
oddly alive. She spent more time on my weirdly naked penis,
making it swell again. She patted me dry all over with a big,
soft towel and spread skin conditioner all over me, dwelling on
my semi-hard penis.
"Well that looks much better, but we'll have to do something
about your figure. That waistline will never do. You haven't
been losing enough weight, darling. Follow me and we'll take
care of it."
As we walked into the bedroom, I saw some clothes laid out
on the bed. There was a corset, panties, stockings, and a short
dress. She began to put the corset on me, and said, "Your arms
are in the way." With that, she reached into one of the bags and
pulled out a leather collar. She then put some leather cuffs on
my wrists, unlocked the metal ones, and quickly hooked my hands
behind my head to the collar.
This was starting to get too weird. Our sex games had died
out a year or so before. I'd known she was curious about bondage
and stuff, but had laid down the law and said no. I tried to
talk around the thing in my mouth, but she ignored me. I was
able to offer only token resistance as my arms were asl**p and
numb from being pulled up and back for so long. Next, she
started hooking up the corset and pulling the laces in behind me.
Soon I couldn't breathe and still she was tightening the laces.
"Is that uncomfortable? Too bad. It'll give you incentive
to lose that extra weight you've been ignoring, won't it?" With
a final savage jerk, she finished adjusting the laces with a full
knot. "I think you'll have an interesting time trying to untie
that by yourself."
I silently agreed. It was more like being in a straight
jacket than lingerie. But there was an illicit thrill to it,
despite my deepening worry that she was going way too far with
her fun.
"Now let's put some panties on you. Which pair would you
like? You don't care? That's no way for a lady to show interest
in her appearance. I guess we'll try this new pair of pink satin
ones I bought you. Now you don't have to steal mine, love. Oh,
my! You really look cute in them."
Next came a set of latex breast forms which she teasingly
placed in the corset's half cups to fill out my chest. After
that she rolled some stockings up each leg, hooked them to the
garters on the corset, and smoothed them out. She quickly
admired her work while I tried not to, too embarrassed for words,
even if the gag hadn't been in my mouth.
"Let's see how this dress I picked out for you fits." With
that she picked up a shimmery peach colored dress and worked it
over the tangle of my head and arms. As it fell over my breasts
and hips it came down to only mid-thigh.
She looked at me with a grin on her face and said, "Don't
you look adorable! You'll have to be very careful and ladylike
when you sit or bend over or the world will see your garters and
panties. Only a slut would act like that. If you act like a
slut, I'll have to treat you like one."
What did she mean by 'the world will see you?' I didn't like
the implications in that statement.
"Step into these shoes," she said with the air of command,
as she placed a pair of matching peach shoes with about a 3-1/2
in heel on the floor.
I'd rarely dared to play with her high heels. They were a
little too tight, but the real reason I usually avoided them was
because they awoke in me a shame powerful enough to
counterbalance the excitement of cross dressing. I found it was
tremendously difficult to keep my balance with my hands fastened
behind my neck.
"Now it's time for your makeup. I'm going to remove the
gag, but I don't want to hear a single word or I'll put it back
in and leave it there for a whole day." Ellen gave me a look
that indicated she clearly meant it.
Well, I figured, we've gone this far, so why fight it.
Besides, cosmetics were another thing I'd never had the guts to
try, and I'd often fantasized about how I'd look. She spent the
next thirty minutes completing my makeup, going through founda-
tion, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara, adding a light blush, and
finishing with a bright, deep rose lipstick. She topped it off
with a light brown shoulder length wig.
"Now you can look at yourself," she said as she led me to a
mirror.
I couldn't believe it! A beautiful girl looked back at me.
If she was alone in a bar, every guy in there would hit on her.
The dress had a scooped front almost to my breast forms, which
were ample. It also showed a very flattering figure. No wonder
I couldn't breathe. Looking at the reflection in the mirror, the
hemline seemed even shorter, at least six inches above my knees.
I heard a soft "click." I turned around, and my wife was
taking pictures of me!
"You can't admire yourself all day, sweetie. We've got a
busy afternoon and evening ahead of us."
My heart sank. She was really going to f***e me to go out
dressed like this! I started to speak, wanting to talk her out
of it, but she picked up the cock-shaped gag and moved ominously
toward me. I shut up. With that, my wife changed into a plain
dress and fluffed her hair, not even bothering to use any makeup
on herself, which was unusual. She noted my confusion and said,
"I don't want to steal any of the attention you deserve, honey."
She clipped a leash to my collar and led me to the garage.
As she opened the passenger door, I began to fight her. "Honey
what are you trying to -"
She pushed me off balance, which wasn't hard, and stuffed
the gag back in my mouth, immediately strapped it behind my head.
"I warned you! Now you'll have to pay the price for disobe-
dience!" She pushed me again and I fell into the passenger seat.
She buckled the seat belt. Bound as I was, with my hands behind
my head, there was no way I could do anything but go along.
As she drove us away, she said, "I know you're dying of
curiosity, sweetie, wondering what this is all about. It's
simple really. I noticed about six months ago that my clothes
and lingerie had been rearranged almost every time you're home
and I'm not. I started carefully marking my hangers and drawers
to confirm my suspicions, and I can name every time you snuck
into something sexy and even tell you what you wore. Really, I
don't mind, honey. In fact, it really turns me on. So I'm going
to make sure that you live your fantasy to the fullest. It's
really perfect, because MY fantasy is to dominate my husband
completely and I'm going to act that out, too."
I couldn't believe it! She must have caught on almost the
very first time I gave in to the impulse to see if silky feminine
clothes felt as wonderful as they looked. Well, the first time
since I was a k**, anyway.
"I've arranged for you to take a two week surprise vacation
starting Monday. Your boss thinks that we're going on a cruise."
She giggled. "In a way, we are, aren't we? For the next two
weeks, you're going to live entirely as a female and follow my
every command. If you give me any shit at all, I'll send those
pictures of you admiring yourself to your boss and secretary. I
think they'd get a good laugh from them, don't you? To get you
ready for our little adventure, we're going to the mall to do
some shopping for your vacation."
I kept hoping it was all a joke. That any moment she'd turn
the car around, laughing at how she'd scared me, and we'd play
for a while in bed, then it'd be over. But my guts were cold. I
couldn't talk myself into believing it'd happen that way. I knew
she was dead serious.
As we pulled into the mall parking lot she said, "In case
you're having any thoughts about running away, remember that you
don't have any car keys, wallet or money. If you don't do exactly
as I say, I'll leave you here to get back on your own."
She was right! Trying to get home without her, dressed like
this, wasn't an option. I couldn't even think of hitchhiking.
Cold sweat popped out on my brow as I realized that I was stuck.
I had to do what she said. I didn't even want to think of what
her plans were.

Heya, dudes and dudettes. Here's a bit of nastiness dealing with
f***ed feminization, etc., and so on. Chapters One and maybe Two
began life as someone else's work. Wish I knew who (s)he was. I
found them on a local BBS a couple of years ago and was hammered
by the idea - but the damned thing ended before much of interest
happened. I believe I've fixed that - but you be the judge.

As always, I'll utterly ignore any posting to this group requesting reposts.
If you want to e-mail me with comments, I'll welcome them, even send you
the file direct, if I have time - but don't offend all the other readers with
your insipid, thoughtless, inconsiderate, unwelcome public nattering.
Clear enough?



CHAPTER TWO - THE MALL

I was terrified. There I was, tied into my car seat,
dressed as a woman from high heels to wig, with my wrists
handcuffed to a leather collar around my neck, for all the world
to see. And my wife had driven me to the shopping mall to shop
for clothes to complete my wardrobe. I wanted to cry out in
frustration and terror, but there was a penis-shaped gag buried
in my throat. The excitement I'd felt at home was long gone.
After she stopped the car in the parking lot, she turned to
me and unlocked the collar, cuffs, and removed the gag from my
mouth. "Now, can I trust you to behave in here, or will I have
to really embarrass you? And by behave I mean do everything I
say without question."
With a numb feeling in my stomach I said, "Yes honey, I'll
be good."
"Wonderful! I know we're going to have a marvelous time."
With that, she made me fix the lipstick the gag had smeared,
and showed me how to powder my sweaty forehead. We got out of
the car and walked into the mall. The heels caused my hips to
sway noticeably. I did my best to minimize it.
She looked at me with a grin and said, "My, aren't we
calling attention to ourselves!" and laughed merrily. "Our first
stop is at the beauty parlor. We don't have that much time, so
today we'll just touch up your makeup and do your nails. Your
hair can wait until tomorrow. I've already made an appointment
for you."
The voyage through the crowded mall was tremendously
humiliating. I kept waiting for someone to recognize me, or see
through the disguise my wife had applied and sneer at a man in a
short dress and makeup. It was almost a relief to near the
beauty shop. While I didn't draw any of the disgusted looks I
was afraid of, I got way too much attention, and the appreciative
smiles were almost worse than mockery would have been.
We walked into the parlor, and she talked to the
receptionist. "Hello. I called earlier for a 'special
appointment' for Sheila."
A pretty brunette overheard and approached. "Hi! I'm Cindy
and everything is ready. Follow me please." She led us past the
filled stations into a back room. "Please have a seat here." I
looked at the chair and then my wife with some misgivings.
"SIT DOWN! You heard what the lady said!" my wife commanded
and shoved me into the chair. Before I could recover, she pulled
two velcro lined straps out of her purse and quickly strapped my
arms to the armrests, rendering me completely helpless. "Now sit
there quietly, or I'll have to take further steps."
The stylist was trying, though not very hard, to cover a big
smirk on her face.
"Go ahead and start on her. I don't think she'll give you
any trouble. How long do you think this will take?"
"For everything you asked for, about an hour and a half."
"Good, I'll be back then. I've got some shopping to do. If
she gives you any trouble, feel free to take whatever action you
think is appropriate." She then walked out of the store, leaving
me alone with the stylist.
"You aren't going to make any trouble, are you?" she teased.
I shook my head no, not trusting my voice. Sounding like a
man would've been too embarrassing, and I'd feel like a fool if I
tried a false woman's voice.
"Too bad. I think I'd enjoy disciplining and humiliating
you. You're obviously into it. Maybe I should see if my
boyfriend would look as good as you do dressed up."
That definitely made me decide not to resist - as if I could
have anyway. I did my best to ignore her flattery, too. The
last thing I wanted to do was look too much like a woman.
"Debbie here is going to do your nails, and I'll be giving
you a light makeover. You're lady friend made a separate
appointment for your hair for tomorrow." She turned her
attention to my face and began working me over as Debbie began my
nails.
Sixty minutes later, she was still working on my face, and
Debbie had mockingly told me to remove my hose so she could do my
toenails. The bands around my wrists made that impossible, of
course, and I cringed as the girl touched me and did it herself.
I kept my eyes closed, unable to face the changes being made to
me. The worst part was having my eyebrows plucked into shape.
How could I hide that when the "vacation" was over?
"This is a 'light' makeover?" I wondered to Cindy in a safe
whisper, trying to joke. "How long does it take for a complete
job?" I really didn't want to know.
At that moment my wife walked in with a shopping bag. "How
are we coming? Oh, she looks just darling!" she said as she
grinned at me. She then bent over and admired my bright red
toenails. Confirming that Debbie was finished, she rolled my
hose part way up and began digging through a huge shopping bag.
"What are you doing, honey?" I asked in a meek, gender
neutral voice.
"Oh, I didn't think that those shoes were flattering enough,
so I dropped into the Wild Pair to find you something prettier. I
know you're just dying to wear them, but with that corset on I
don't imagine you can bend over far enough to strap them on."
That was an understatement! While I'd gotten used to taking
shallow breaths in the corset, there was no way I could bend that
far down. I couldn't see what the shoes looked like from the
angle I was sitting in the chair, but I could tell they had a
much higher heel than the other set.
"There!" Cindy announced proudly. "That about finishes you.
How are you coming, Debbie?"
"Just a few minutes to let the last coat dry." After about
five very uncomfortable minutes of listening to girl talk, she
said, "That about does it. Let's stand up and have a look at
you."
My wife then removed the velcro straps, freeing me from the
chair. I stood up and almost fell. I looked down at my shoes.
They were a pair of cream ankle straps with at least a five inch
heel. I could barely stand in them. It was amazing what a
difference an inch and a half made. I then looked in the mirror,
for the first time, and almost didn't recognize myself. The
person standing there was a short, truly beautiful, entirely
feminine woman staring back at me with wide, shocked, expertly
made up eyes! Her skin looked perfectly smooth and her lips were
strikingly highlighted.
I reflexively raised my hands to my face, not believing what
I was seeing, and then noticed my nails. One full inch long and
a deep liquid red - exactly the color of my skillfully painted
lips and toes.
My wife smiled approvingly at me and said, "Don't they look
lovely, Sheila?"
"Y . . . Yes," I stammered, too shocked to lie. "They're
beautiful. I can't believe it!"
As she paid Cindy and we turned to go, she said, "By the
way, I asked her to use a permanent set on the nails. You won't
be able to remove them."
I looked down at my hands in shock. How could you hide
nails like that? What would I do at the end of the two weeks? I
knew enough about it to realize that even if I cut them off,
they'd be unnaturally thick.
"Let's go, Sheila, we've got plenty still to do. Now it's
time for some clothes shopping. With a gorgeous bod and sexy
face like you have, we have to get you some 'hot' outfits to
match."
I slowly emerged from my state of shock, and wished I
hadn't. I was drawing even more attention now. The way men were
staring at me left no doubt as to their thoughts. I stayed as
close to Ellen as I could as she slowly toured store fronts.
Our first stop was "The Body Shop." My wife had me try on
countless outfits in the dressing room. It was sheer torture,
climbing into and out of one revealing outfit after another. I
was horrified of being recognized and arrested for this
perversion. She ended up picking out a short black leather skirt
with matching bustier, and a white satin minidress with a deeply
scooped neckline. Then she made me pay for the items with my
American Express Card - with my real name on it! The sales
clerk gave me a shocked look and then a big smirk. My face
turned beet red from embarrassment. My slim hand shook as I
tried to grip the pen and sign the sales slip with my too long
nails.
We went from store to store for about two more endless
hours. I must have tried on forty outfits and purchased at least
a dozen. My ribs were killing me from the constant pressure of
the corset and my feet ached from walking and standing in those
incredible heels.
"Here we go. One last stop," my wife said as we turned into
another boutique. "Why don't you have a seat for a couple of
minutes."
She didn't have to tell me twice. I was exhausted. I sat
in the chair she indicated, relieved to get a load off of my
feet. I carefully smoothed my hemline as I sat down (I'd learned
this lesson the hard way through some embarrassing comments and
looks from other shoppers). I was so tired, I didn't know what
store I was in, and really didn't care. I let my eyes close.
One of the clerks came up behind me and said, "Just sit
still now." There was a sudden, intense burning sensation in my
right ear. My eyes leaps open, and I tried to get up. She held
my head firmly with one hand and said, "Just a few seconds. Hold
still." The sharp pain was repeated in the other ear. She then
rubbed both with some alcohol and fiddled with each ear for a few
seconds. "There, that does it. You can get up now."
I stood up and looked in the mirror. She had pierced my
ears and placed a little gold ball in each of them! What would I
do at the at the end of two weeks? Those holes in my ears were
going to take a long time to heal over.
"Okay, that finishes us here. It's time for us to go home
and get ready to go out tonight."
With that, we walked back towards the car - slowly, because
I was f***ed to take such mincing steps in the tall shoes.
As we got into the car I turned and said, "Honey, this is
ridiculous. Look at my hands! I can't -"
She slapped me hard on the cheek, staggering me. She
immediately pulled out a pair of handcuffs, put them on me, and
secured them behind me to the headrest, making me completely
helpless.
"I can see that you need a lesson to show you that I mean
business. When I'm finished with you, you're going to beg me to
dress you up, take you out, and make you look as pretty and sexy
as possible! We both know that you've secretly dreamed about
this. Well it's happening and there's not a damned thing you can
do to stop it! The sooner you realize that you're no longer in
control of what happens to you, the happier you'll be!"
"But honey," I whined, "don't you think that this's a little
-"
She rammed the gag back in my mouth. "What were you saying
dear? I didn't catch it? Oh well, I guess it wasn't very
important."
We pulled away from the mall with me helpless in the
passenger seat, thankful that the tinted windows offered me a
little protection from casual observation.
As I began to look around me I realized that this was not
the way home. Where was she taking me now?
She noticed me squirming and looking around and said, "Don't
know where we're going? Well, as much as you deserve to be
humiliated more in public, that'll have to wait. I just have to
pick something up."
My relief quickly turned to chagrin as we stopped and I
looked at where we were. It was a shop entitled "Exotic Leather
Goods."
"I need to grab a few things to ensure that you learn your
lesson properly. Don't do anything naughty while I'm gone."
So there I was, tied into the passenger seat for any passers
by to see, trapped in a feminine appearance and clothing with an
artificial penis filling my mouth. Now that we'd stopped, the
tinted windows weren't nearly dark enough.
Suddenly, I saw a man approaching, walking towards the
car. He was casually looking at each of them as he passed by.
Would he notice me through the window? My heart was racing a
mile a minute. Just as it looked as if he would pass right by,
he stopped and did a double take. HE SAW ME! He stood there
looking in the window for at least a full minute with a big grin
on his face while I tried to become invisible. Just about that
time my wife came up to the car with a bag in her hand.
"Enjoying the view?" she casually asked the man.
"Sure am, honey," he replied with a leer. "Do you always
keep her tied up like that?" He thought I was a real woman!
"She prefers it that way," my wife laughed. "She's my
display model. Feel free to look all you want, but don't touch."
The man kept up his lewd stare while Ellen loaded her
purchases. He waved gaily, still laughing, as he walked away.
With that she got in started the car. As she drove us home, she
said, "I was planning to take you out for a nice dinner and
dancing tonight, but you obviously don't deserve a reward like
that yet. So, instead I'm going to teach you a lesson in
obedience. When I'm through with you, you'll beg me to dress you
up in sexy outfits so you can show off."
b*****r, was I in trouble. I was afraid to even think of
what my "lesson" would be. I was sure that it would not be
pleasant, but I knew there was no way she could make good on her
promise that I'd want her to expose me publicly.
Finally, we pulled into the garage. My wife leaned over
and connected my wrist cuffs to the collar. After that she
disconnected my hands from the headrest, giving me no chance to
get free. She then reached into her big purse, pulled out a
leash, and connected it to the collar. Getting her bag, my wife
got out of the car and came around to my door. I still could not
move because I was strapped in by the seat belt. She unhooked it
and gave a tug on the leash.
"Come along now, Sheila," she ordered as we walked into the
house. We stopped in the kitchen.
"The first thing we need to work on is this tendency of
yours to talk back and question everything I say. After all, I
can't keep that gag in your mouth all the time. Unless, of
course, you like the feel of something shaped like a cock in your
throat."
I shook my head violently.
"Well then, you need to show me that you can behave.
Believe me, I hate keeping that beautiful mouth of yours gagged
all the time. There are so many better uses for it."
Having said that she pulled what looked like a leather
sleeve with some laces running down the length out of the bag of
things she'd just bought. She then walked out of the room for a
few seconds and returned with several pieces of rope. She
unlocked the wrist cuffs and had me put my hands behind my back.
She then secured them with the hands facing.
Next, she picked up the sleeve and slid it up my arms,
securing it with some straps in front of my shoulder,
guaranteeing that it would not come off. Then she began
tightening the laces, straightening my arms and pulling my elbows
together until they were about four inches apart. It hurt like
hell and f***ed me to pull my shoulders back and arch my back to
accommodate the position of my arms. My arms and shoulders began
to ache almost immediately.
"My, aren't you the brazen little slut!" she laughed as she
looked at me. I had to admit that the way my back was arched did
throw out my chest, emphasizing my big breasts. Next, she took a
long length of rope, tied it to a ring on the sleeve below my
hands and ran it to a hook it the ceiling. That ring! She'd had
me put that in the ceiling last week to hold a heavy planter.
How long had she been planning this? A tug on the rope brought
me back to the present. As she pulled on the rope, it f***ed me
to bend at the waist while she pulled my arms towards the
ceiling. Tying the rope off onto a doorknob, she commented,
"There, that should keep you. Comfy?"
Hardly! I was still in those ridiculous heels and this
position f***ed all of my weight onto my toes, which were already
in agony. Adding to this, the bent over position made the corset
so tight that I was gasping for breath in tiny pants. I felt
like I was going to pass out.
The next thing I knew she was pulling my dress up over my
waist, exposing my pantied bottom. Then she pulled the panties
down around my ankles.
"Are you ready for your first punishment?"
I had no way to say no, of course.
She fumbled around in the bag. When I looked, she had
pulled out a leather paddle. There was no doubt what her
intended target was. Bound as I was, there was also not a single
thing that I could do about it.
SMACK! She connected right on my bare ass with a stinging
blow. "I think that fifty good ones is about right for talking
back to your mistress, don't you?"
SMACK! She continued. After about twenty, I lost all
control and was crying like a baby. Each stroke seemed to sting
more than the one before it. Finally, she reached fifty. My
entire behind felt like it was on fire. She then pulled the
panties up and pulled my hem down again.
"That was just your first punishment. I told you that you
would never forget this lesson. I'll be back in a little while.
I'm going to take a shower and rest a bit. My arms are tired.
Don't go anywhere."
Her arms were tired! At my ass and thigh's expense! I
stood there, miserably bent over, dreading the next punishment,
and wondering what it would be.



CHAPTER THREE: PUNISHMENT

I'm sure my wife was gone no more than an hour, but it felt
like days. I was trapped there, standing on my cramping toes in
those tall high heels, bent forward at the waist, exposing my
swat-inflamed, pink pantied rear under the hem of my short peach
dress. My eyes burned from sweat and tear dissolved makeup
that'd run into them while she spanked me with the heavy leather
paddle. I could barely breathe because of the way I was tied and
tight corset cinching my waist into nothingness. There was
nothing for me to do but suffer and ruminate on my situation.
I was trapped by more than my agonizing posture. She'd
taken pictures of me and threatened to give them to my boss and
secretary if I gave her any trouble for the next two weeks of my
surprise vacation. She'd made me watch her drop them off at a
fifty-minute photo place at the mall, and I was positive she had
the prints hidden somewhere I'd never find them. All because I'd
secretly tried on her panties and a few other clothes a couple of
times! Okay, to tell the truth, it was more than a couple of
times. Now, she was determined to turn me into Sheila, a sexy
little crossdresser who'd beg to be allowed to go out dancing so
she could be seen and admired!
A dizzy wave of pain made me start crying again. I suddenly
stiffened. What if that wasn't all she wanted to make me do?
What if she was trying to do more than show off my cute ass and
pouty red mouth? She'd already called me 'slut' a couple of
times. What if she meant it?
I almost fainted. I had to end this before it went any
further. She'd promised me still more punishment, and I didn't
think I could take any more. Maybe, if I acted the way she
wanted, she'd relent. More importantly, if I cooperated, there
was sure to be a chance to catch her off guard and escape before
any real damage was done.
By the time I finally heard the door open, I was in such
total agony that thinking of ways to escape my feminization was
the last thing on my mind. I'd have done anything simply to be
allowed to stand up straight. I was dizzy from the unending
struggle to breathe. My legs were cramped into fiery pillars of
pain. I tried to sob out around the penis gag what was supposed
to be her name.
"Well, well," she drawled from behind me, "don't you look
sexy! How's that nice little ass feel now, Sheila? Still hot
and pink as your panties?"
I heard her walking across the vinyl floor until she was
right behind me. Between my quivering legs, I saw that she'd
changed into some shoes I'd never seen before. The black high
heels must have been six inches tall and were tipped with narrow
metal spikes. Her ankles were covered in black mesh hose. I
jumped when I felt her hand on my ass, then tried to stand very
still for whatever she was going to do. She petted me between my
cheeks.
"Is it too tender, darling? Oh, dear. It's hard to answer
me with that nasty gag in your mouth, isn't it?"
I nodded frantically.
"Will you be a good girl if I take it out?"
I nodded so hard that time that I almost dislocated my
shoulders.
I gasped the instant the thing slid out of my dried lips. I
wanted to scream at her to turn me loose. Instead, I croaked
out, "Thank you."
"Why you're quite welcome, dear. Would you like to stand
up?"
"Please!" My voice shook wildly.
"One little thing, and I'll loosen the rope." I heard her
dig through the bag of things she'd bought and wondered what my
next torture was. She tugged my panties down and ran a finger
lubricated with something cold and slick over my exposed asshole.
Then, she eased the finger inside me. It hurt like hell, but
what could I do? If I screamed or protested, she'd do it anyway
and leave me tied in this bent forward position - or something
worse. I gritted my teeth and endured as best as I could.
She wiggled the finger inside me and ran it in and out a
couple of times. Cold sweat again popped out all over me, but
there was a strange heat, also. When she pulled her hand away, I
thought she was finished. Then I felt something cold and hard
being pressed into me, something much fatter than a finger. It
spread me so wide I thought I was going to have to scream, then
narrowed, letting my sphincter muscle clamp around it.
"Very good, honey. In case you're wondering, that's your
very own butt plug. I'm sure it's painful, but you'll get used
to it. I expect you to wear it at all times unless I tell you
otherwise. Is that clear?"
I nodded jerkily.
"Say it!"
"Yes," I choked out. "I understand."
When she unhooked the rope from the doorknob and let me
stand, I staggered and almost collapsed. Even the tiny breathing
space the tight corset gave me felt wonderful. I gasped as deep
lungful of air as I could. I barely noticed her loosening the
long leather sleeve laced up my arms, locking my elbows together,
but I was sure aware of the added freedom and the lessening
torture.
She had to help me to a chair, holding me by my wrists,
still cuffed behind my back. I hissed when I sat, both from
tender ass cheeks and the suddenly more noticeable discomfort of
the thing buried in my ass.
Until then, I hadn't looked at her, and what I saw shocked
and frightened me. She looked nothing at all like my wife! She
was wearing a shiny, form-fitting black latex bodysuit that looked
something like wildly cut one piece swim wear. There was a seam
down the middle decorated with silver studs. The outfit made her
nipples stand out and was buried in the valley between her pussy
lips. The stiletto heels made her much taller than I was, even
in the five inch heels I wore. Her eyes were made up in a way
that reminded me of Cleopatra, with immense lashes and eyeliner
and silver eye shadow drawn out almost to her temples. Her lips
were a deep, deep red that made her teeth look too white. "Oh
dear, you look terrible! Have you been ruining your makeup by
crying?"
I nodded, shocked by her appearance. I heard myself whine,
"It hurt."
"It was supposed to," she said like she was explaining
something obvious to a c***d. "And that was nothing compared to
what I'll do if you start misbehaving again." She tied my bound
wrists to the chair and brought me some water. I sipped
thirstily until I noticed how badly I had to pee. It'd been a
long time since I'd used the toilet. And about then the bl**d
flowing through my arms began to tingle, then burn, hurting
almost as badly as being tied had.
"It'll pass," she said with a grin.
"Can I use the bathroom? Please?"
"Soon. But first we've got to get you looking pretty again.
Do you know how much the makeover you ruined cost?"
So she led me back to the bedroom. I couldn't help noticing
how the butt plug made me walk even more enticingly than I had
merely in the high heels. Was there no end to my humiliation? I
had to endure another eternal thirty minutes at her vanity before
I was allowed to pee - sitting down, of course, with my wife
standing there impatiently. I couldn't help but sigh my relief
as yet more room was made for me to breathe. As I stood for her
to pull my panties up, I was amazed that I felt almost
comfortable in the corset and heels.
"Such a sexy smile," she observed, tucking my penis back
between my legs. Her fingers lingered there. Her incredibly
lush, wet lips hovered inches from mine, and I felt myself begin
to harden in her hand. "Do you feel good, love?"
"A little," I confessed, reminding myself that I had to go
along with her mad game.
"Don't you feel pretty?"
"Kind of."
"Pretty enough to go out to dinner now?"
I blushed. "I'm awfully tired. Can we do that another
time?" My penis was at full erection by then, and she was
showing no sign of stopping.
"But you would if I insisted?"
My hips rocked in time with her caress under my short skirt.
"I'd have to. I know what'd happen if I tried to fight you."
"Oh, no you don't," she whispered into my face. "It'd be a
hundred times worse than you can imagine, Sheila. Trust me on
that. You don't want to ever do anything that'd make me angry.
Never again. Understand?"
I nodded, feeling her stroking hand more clearly than I
heard her soft words. The way she was rubbing me through the
silky material of the panties was driving me wild. I parted my
lips, leaning forward to kiss her. She quickly pulled away and
squeezed my balls with enough f***e to make me feel nauseated.
"Ah, ah! None of that, darling. I'll not have you smearing
that pretty lipstick of yours until I tell you to. Is my baby
getting all hot? Her sweet clittie's swollen so big. Would she
like me to make her cum?"
"Yes," I whispered. "Please."
"You'd cum in your panties and then sl**p in them?"
"Yes. I don't care. Just -"
"You'd lick and suck my pussy until I told you to stop, and
then cum in them for me?"
Oral sex had always disgusted me. "Yes! Anything
you want!"
She dropped her hand and took me back to the bedroom,
pushing me to my knees beside the bed. She quickly opened a
velcro closure hidden under the metal studs of the bodysuit and
peeled away a strip of fabric that'd covered her groin. She
straddled my head and sat on the edge of the mattress. I stared
in shock between her legs. She'd shaved her pussy sometime in
the week or more since we'd last made love. Her pinkish-brown
labia shone with moisture.
"Kiss those lips, Sheila. French kiss that mouth, you
little slut. Tongue fuck it like you mean it and maybe I'll let
you cum."
I was repelled by the thought, but knew it was my only way
to get gratification, and that resistance would mean real
trouble. I made myself lean forward and hesitantly lap at her.
"No!" she yelled, grabbing me by my wig and slamming my face
into her, humping my nose with her hips. "Do it, you fag slut,
or we'll go out and pick somebody up to fuck YOU!"
I did it with every bit of energy I could summon. Little by
little, my disgust faded. I was turning her on! Her thrusts and
approving curses were heartfelt. I'd never heard her even half
so aroused when we made love normally. My penis strained inside
the tight panties as I eagerly wallowed between her legs, licking
and sucking wherever she told me to and going fast or slow
according to her commands.
When she orgasmed, I thought she was going to smother me.
She screamed and her legs clamped around me like steel bands,
trapping both my mouth and nose. Her pussy twitched around my
tongue and my nose nuzzled her clit. Just as I started seeing
black dots dancing in front of my eyes, she spread her legs and I
came up gasping for air.
I felt right on the edge of cumming myself. I looked down
and saw that the hem of my hose clad legs were spread wide. My
dress had slid up high enough to show the garters and the panties
beneath. My cock was still almost invisible, pointing toward my
butt. It looked like I had a girl's middle, and I was so turned on I
was about to die! I'd never wanted to cum so bad in my whole
life, and I couldn't reach out to jack off. I tried to pull my
legs together, hoping that maybe I could rub my thighs together
and get off that way. It didn't work.
I heard my wife laugh. "Would my horny baby like to cum in
her panties now? Would she like to rub her clit with those sexy
hands for me?"
I saw that she was laying back on the bed, staring down at
me from between her legs. She was stroking her clit, just like
her words were describing.
"Would you like me to fix your nasty mouth so you can be
pretty for me, and jack off for me like a dirty little slut?"
"Yes! Oh, god, please!"
When she helped me up, she didn't have to tell me to lay
down on the bed. I did it on my own. She spread my legs and
snapped handcuffs attached to the bedframe around my ankles.
Then she freed my hands from behind my back, clicking the left
wrist to the bed over my head. The right one she set free.
"Now do it slow, Sheila. You can't cum until I tell you
to."
I was almost oblivious by then. My hand felt clumsy after
being imprisoned for so long, but it flew straight to my middle.
She slapped it away and pinned my arm under her weight.
"Listen to me, cunt! Unless you do it MY way, you don't get
to do it at all! Now just lay there until I say so!"
I panted while she swayed to the vanity to bring what she
needed to repair my face again. I begged her to hurry. Her hand
lightly tickled my painful balls and I cooperated to the max,
holding my mouth open like I was hungry for the lipstick, turning
my head this way and that so she could powder my cheeks and chin
to her satisfaction.
"God, you're a sexy whore, Sheila! Now do exactly as I say.
First, lift your skirt out of the way. Now scratch the length of
your clit with those nasty red fingernails!"
The sc**** of my long nails through the silk almost made me
shoot off right then. I dimly heard the click of the shutter as
she took more pictures, but there was nothing I could do about
it. I knew I was angling my hips up provocatively, but I had to
in order to reach myself.
"Feel good, honey? I wish you could see how sexy you are,"
she cooed. "Now stick your hand inside the panties and rub it,
just a little."
The thrill was electrifying! It took every bit of willpower
I owned not to jerk it just the once it'd take to send me over.
But my wife's ominous warning rang in my ears. I may have
whined, but I didn't cum.
"Perfect baby! Now push your panties down under your balls.
I want to see it. I want to watch that pretty hand make you
shoot cum up in the air. NO! NOT YET! I want you to just hold
it for a second, just squeeze it. Feel how good it feels."
I was dying. My ears were ringing and my whole body was
stiff. I was panting like a dog. "Please! Please," I howled.
"Tell me your name, slut! Tell me who you are and I'll let
you cum!"
"Sheila," I shrieked. "I'm Sheila!"
"And you just love looking sexy, don't you!"
"Yes! Yes!"
"Beg me to take you dancing tomorrow night!"
"Please take me out! Anywhere you want!"
"Do you want to show off? Do you want to wear that nasty
black minidress and tall heels and bright make up? Show
everybody what a hot little slut you are?"
"Yes! I'll do it!"
"Do you WANT to do it?"
"Yes! Yes! I want to be a slut and let everybody see me!"
"Then cum for me, Sheila! Rub your fat clit and cum!"
The explosion ripped through me like lightning. My first
blast of sperm must have shot two feet in the air. There were
many more spurts to follow, and my flying hand was slick with it
long before I was finished. I collapsed onto the mattress, weak
as a baby.
She touched my shrinking penis, and I gasped. It was so
sensitive I couldn't stand it. I heard her low chuckle, but she
relented and lifted her hand. She brushed my lips with her
fingers, and I automatically kissed them, tasting something salty
and sticky.
My drowsy eyes sprang open. It was my cum! I jerked my
head away.
Her voice was a frightening growl. "Do you really want to
make me angry, Sheila? Do you really want to resist me? Are you
ready for a hot, long dick to slide up your asshole?"
My eyes threatened to overflow. "No," I whispered.
"Then lick every drop of cum from my fingers like a good
slut."
More humiliated than I'd been while giving the clerks my
charge card, or even having the man leer at me through the car
windows, I did what she demanded. She scooped every last bit of
sperm off my dress and slack penis and made me swallow it.
Finally, after I'd licked my own hand clean, she was satisfied.
After she'd made me change into a red teddy, she chained me
to the foot of the bed and made me sl**p on a blanket on the
floor. She'd loosened my girdle a little, but made me sl**p in
make up and the wig. The butt plug was still there, too. She
fed me a can of diet milkshake and a tiny salad.
"You need to get used to being this way, Sheila. And this
IS the way you're going to be for the next two weeks. Maybe
longer, if you give me any trouble. I can't wait to get our next
photos back. They'll show anybody who sees them just how much
you love living this way."
The renewed threat to give them to my boss cowed me even
further. I'd never been so miserable in my life. She'd reminded
me, as she handcuffed me to the bed frame, of what she'd said
earlier.
"I told you, Sheila. I knew you didn't believe me then, but
now you know. I made you beg me to go out and flaunt your slutty
body, just like I said I would."
I cried as quietly as I could in the darkness. Somehow,
some way, I HAD to get out of this!


ADJUSTMENTS

I woke up stiff and sore, with the thing in my ass hurting
like hell. That and being on the floor were instant reminders of
everything that'd happened. I tried a deep breath but was
stopped by the corset. I had to sweep the wig's hair out of my
mouth. My fingernails startled me so much that my handcuffs
clinked on the bed.
The mattress moved and my wife's sl**py face peered down at
me. "Good morning, Sheila? Did you sl**p okay?"
A bitter retort was on my lips when I saw her face turn
hard. I swallowed my protest. "Um, it was okay."
She looked pleased. "That's the spirit, darling! What a
good girl you're being! Just for that, I'll let you go to the
bathroom alone."
I tried to hide the hope surging through me by looking down
at the floor and thanking her. My heart was pounding. She
dashed it by holding up a pair cuffs with a short length of chain
between them. She clicked them around my ankles before unlocking
me from the bed, and made me put on the five inch heels. I had
to take short mincing steps. Even if I could get away from her,
where could I go in a corset and teddy with shackles on my legs?
Seeing my dismay, she laughed heartily as I walked delicately
from the room.
I hated seeing myself in the mirror. There was still sl**p
worn lipstick on my mouth, eyeliner around my eyes, and flakes of
mascara all over my cheeks. The brown wig was a tangled mop.
Under the teddy I was as hairless as my wife, and the corset
showing through the lacy lingerie showed a shape as nice as hers,
too. I could barely see a man beneath all that. The haggard
woman in the mirror looked familiar, like my twin s****r might
have if I had one.
I felt foolish standing to pee, having to hold the red teddy
out of the way, but I was damned if I'd squat unless I had to.
The long red fingernails embarrassed me as they touched my heavy
morning cock. I had to look away as I did my business.
I tried to think. I could take a razor out with me to use
as a weapon - but they were all the disposable kind and wouldn't
work. Not that I could really hurt her, not even for this. But
maybe I could convince her I meant business. To my dismay, there
were no scissors, no nothing. Every conceivable weapon had been
taken away. I almost cried in frustration, and managed not to
only by reminding myself how feminine a reaction that'd be.
I pulled myself together. There'd be another time, other
chances, if I played my cards right. Hating what I had to do, I
tugged a brush through the wig and rinsed my face and mouth. I
tried a practice smile, but it was too scary. I had to stay away
from mirrors.
She arched an eyebrow when I traipsed back out with as much
enthusiasm as I could find. "Why you little darling! You
cleaned up for me!"
"Would you like me to bring you coffee in bed?" I asked her
remembering to speak softly in as feminine a voice as I could
muster.
"What? And leave you in the kitchen with all those sharp
things? Honey, you might hurt yourself."
Obviously, she knew I'd try something and wasn't going to
give me the opening I needed. I choked back a burst of rage.
"I'd be very careful."
"I'm sure you would, darling. But not this time. Sit down
there and get started on your face, my little cum lover. I'll
make the coffee."
She cuffed my legs to the back legs of the vanity's chair
and roped my chest tightly to the back. I might be able to reach
the knot, I thought.
"Now do a good job, honey. I want you to look pretty.
Remember, we've got an appointment to get your hair done this
afternoon."
"But I can't!" I protested. "I don't know how!"
"Come darling," she warned as she turned away. "You've
watched me hundreds of time, and Cindy and I showed you exactly
how it needs to be done. Do it and do it right, or else!"
The moment she was out of sight, I tried the knot. It was
tight, and I could get no leverage because of the angle of my
wrists. I fumbled with it anyway, desperately, but to no avail.
Again tears threatened me. This time I couldn't hold them off.
Once I started, I couldn't stop.
I'd never felt anything like that in my life. I was
terrified and helpless. She was outsmarting me at every turn. I
was horrified - she was winning! She WAS going to be able to
make me do whatever she demanded, no matter how sick or twisted.
I was never going to be able to resist her. I was still crying
when she came back fifteen minutes later. Her deep scowl made me
try harder to dam the flood.
"You haven't even started!" she accused angrily.
"I . . . I . . ." I stammered hopelessly.
"You worthless little bitch! That does it!" She stormed
toward me. There was no way to flee from her. I covered my face
with my arms and sobbed anew. But she didn't go for my face.
Her slap landed squarely between my legs. I doubled up with a
sick groan. She wrenched one arm behind my back and twisted. A
cold cuff went around my wrist.
"Give me the other arm!"
I did.
"Why you thankless bitch! You broke a nail messing with
that knot, trying to get away! Oh, you'll pay for that, too!"
She jerked me to my feet by my arms, causing me to yell in pain.
She dragged me into the bathroom and pushed me into the tub,
still wearing what I'd slept in. She jerked off my high heels,
then turned the water on, adjusting it until it was almost
scalding hot. I was too afraid to protest. At least I'd quit
crying. She quickly reattached the handcuffs around a very solid
towel rack. With a sinking heart, I remembered I'd installed it
for her three weeks ago. More evidence that she'd been planning
this for a very long time!
To the burning water, she added fragrant bath salts and
oils. She reached under me and with a cruel jerk, removed the
plug that almost felt like part of my ass.
"You've earned the next larger size, cunt. We've got to get
you loosened up and ready for a big fat real cock, don't we?
After all, we don't want it to hurt you so much you can't enjoy
the way it's going slide in and out of you."
That was more than enough to make me sob all over again.
"Please," I begged her softly, "Not that. Anything but that."
"Anything, Sheila? You mean that anythings better than
having a man lift your sexy legs over his shoulders and spread
those cute buns under your dress and hammer you with his cock?"
"Yes!" I wailed hysterically. "Anything!"
"Oh, baby," she laughed, "I'm going to make you remember
what you just said. When you're crying this hard, begging me to
let you have a cock up your ass, I'll remind you. And you will,
you know. Just like you did last night."
With the steaming tub filled to the rim, she left me to soak
and think. Horrible scenarios ran through my mind, but none were
anywhere near as bad as what she'd said. What could be worse
than having another man do that to me? The whole thing was a
nightmare, but that . . .
The water was almost cool by the time she returned, and I
was having trouble. It was like the butt plug had already
loosened my asshole, and I was sweating as I tried to keep my
bowels from emptying in the bathwater.
"Toilet!" I begged the instant the door opened.
"Oh, my! Do we have a problem, darling?" I barely noticed
that she was in makeup as wild as the night before and wearing an
ebony minidress that looked as wet and skin tight as her bodysuit
had.
"I need to shit! Please!"
She giggled merrily. "We can't have that, can we? You'd
have to walk around all day smelling of you own shit!" She put a
theatrically thoughtful red nail before her thick scarlet lips.
"Now let me see. What did I do with those keys?"
I realized as she turned away that she wasn't coming back.
I knew the keys were just outside the door on an end table. And
she didn't return until she heard the forlorn wail I made fifteen
minutes later as my stretched sphincter finally released. I was
straining to keep as much of my body out of the filth as I could
and crying like a lost toddler.
She clucked her tongue at me and looked disgusted. "Well,
Sheila. That's your third fuck up already, and you've only been
awake an hour. What am I going to do with you? I'm only going
to be able to have you fucked by a few men before it's more
reward than punishment."
"I'm sorry! I'll behave! I swear to God I will. Please,
Ellen, give me one more chance!" I knew she was maneuvering me,
but it was all I could do.
She walked up to the side of the tub, petted my damp wig
with her hand. I looked up, pleading with my eyes. I could see
right up her skirt, see that she wasn't wearing any panties, just
garters to hold up her seamed hose. Her naked pussy pouted down
at me. I remembered how it tasted. Her searing red mouth
smiled. "Anything, darling. That's what you said. Remember?
Now take a deep breath and relax."
With that, she unlocked my hands. I knew what was coming.
Nausea welled up in me as she pushed my head under the water I'd
soiled.
At least she let me shower and scrub myself clean, even
though I didn't feel that way. It didn't feel like I'd ever be
able to get clean. I hated her for what she'd done - all of it,
not just in the bathtub. But it was a strange hatred, more fear
than anger, if that makes sense. It didn't to me. I was more
and more convinced that I wasn't going to be able to escape her -
ever. My self-confidence had been eaten away over the past day
until I doubted everything except her cunning.
Somehow, being naked was even worse than wearing the corset
and teddy had been. My hairlessness seemed all the reminder I
needed. I wrapped a towel around me to hide as much of myself as
I could while I shaved my light beard as smooth as was humanly
possible. I knew the towel was a feminine gesture, but I
couldn't stand seeing myself that way.
When I finally minced out of the bathroom in my shackles,
holding my shampooed wig in my hand, she acted like nothing had
ever happened. She was chatty, in a kind of girl to girl way.
She'd loaded a tray with fresh fruit and coffee. My mouth
watered as I ate my share and tried to make light conversation.
She was critical of my voice, but not in a vicious way. As she
cleared the scant meal, she told me to do my makeup like a good
girl.
I promptly tried to imitate what had been done to me several
times the day before. I'd been paying no attention, and was
finding the task overwhelming. I swallowed my fear and meekly
asked for her help. I watched her expressionless face as she
approached, fearful of her wrath, but her smile made me try to,
also.
"Of course, my love. I'm so happy you asked." She pressed
her soft breasts against the back of my head as she hugged me.
"I'd love to help make you beautiful. But," she warned tenderly,
you must learn to do it for yourself, or I'll be upset."
"I will," I vowed, relishing the feel of her chest wrapping
around me. "Uh, by the way, I think you're beautiful today." It
was the most truthful thing I'd said all day.
"Um," she purred, sliding her hands down my smooth chest,
playing with my nipples, rubbing her breasts more firmly against
me. "Thank you, lover. I knew you'd like it as much as I do."
She let her hands slide lower still, grasped my growing
member in a gentle hand. "God, you make me so hot," she
whispered, staring at me via the mirror. "You've done your lips
even better than I did. Such a sweet red pout - but you should
never start with lipstick, baby. Oohh. My cunt's dripping,
thinking about how good they'd feel kissing it like you did last
night. You gave me the best orgasm I've ever had, Sheila. I
want to sixty-nine with you, lick your clit until we both cum."
"I want that, too," I panted hotly, imagining my cock in
that sweltering red mouth. I spoke what I hoped she wanted to
hear. "Let me lick you again. Let me fuck you with my tongue."
She kept me stone hard and sweaty until she'd coached me
through the whole makeover. Then she f***ed me into a second
corset, this one red, and let me play with myself and her heavy
breasts as she stretched the laces tighter and tighter. She
warned me over and over not to cum until she gave me permission.
I had to put the breast forms in myself. Satisfied, she pushed
me to the carpet and straddled my face.
"Eat me, whore," was her final command before lowering her
head toward my big, raging clit.
It didn't take either one of us long. I couldn't wait for
her to tell me to let go. She started writhing on my face as her
orgasm hit her, and mine erupted wildly moments later. She
didn't seem to mind, as she moaned loudly, despite her mouthful,
and sucked mightily.
I was still lazily licking her when she lifted herself off
me and turned around. She brought her smeared red lips down to
mine and kissed me hungrily. She f***ed her tongue into my
mouth, then pushed the glob of cum she'd saved into the back of
my mouth. I tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go.
She clamped one hand over my lips and massaged my throat until I
swallowed repeatedly, my eyes filled with tears of humiliation.
"There. Was that so bad, Sheila? Because you're being so
cooperative, I'll overlook the fact that I didn't give you
permission to cum. See? I'm not unreasonable. If you continue
to behave, we can both enjoy ourselves. But the moment you
rebel, I'm the only one who'll enjoy myself. Now be a doll and
take your vitamin before you fix your face."
The way she said it made me suspicious. I looked at the big
pill when I rolled it into my palm.
Her laughter made me turn my head after I'd swallowed it.
"You're right, dear. That's a very special vitamin. You've been
taking a huge dose of female hormones for over a month now.
Haven't you noticed how smooth your skin is getting? Soon,
you'll be growing your very own breasts!"
I stared at her in utter horror, more sick to my stomach
than bathing in my shit had made me.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I cried.
She encircled my waist from behind, trapping my arms within
hers. "Because it's what we both want, darling. Don't you see?
You need this as much as I do." Her voice turned stern and cold.
"If you ruin your makeup by crying, I'll make you regret it."
It took superhuman effort to stifle the tears. I wondered,
in my panic, if the daily overdose of hormones was what was
making me so emotional. I tried to pay attention to the
cosmetics as I prepared my face to go back to the mall. I didn't
care how I looked - but Ellen did, and pleasing her was something
I HAD to do.
Dressed in a skimpy gold dress and strapped into yet another
pair of five inch heels, with the promised larger butt plug
trapped between my ass cheeks and my wig pinned to my scalp, she
led me back to the garage. I was somewhat shocked that she
didn't use the handcuffs. I guess she figured the leather collar
and leg irons and my full blown feminine look was enough
incentive to behave. She was right, too.


DEFINING SHEILA

It was ten times worse than the day before. Ellen's almost
obscene black dress and lewd makeup attracted the attention of
everyone we encountered as we traipsed through the mall. While
all their eyes locked on her first, they took me in also. She
warned me, after we'd gone a little way, to stand tall and act
proud of my beauty, or else. The shop windows showed me how I
looked, with my big breast forms and tiny waist and full hips
revealed by the clinging gold dress. I couldn't ignore how
enticing my widely swaying ass looked. I felt like a beacon,
like people could see me from miles away. She'd deliberately
parked as far from the beauty salon as possible, exposing us to
the blatant stares of hundreds of people as we traversed the full
length of the shopping center. I felt every lusty look like it
was actually touching me.
By the time we finally got to the salon, I was horribly
confused. While I was ashamed to death of being publicly exposed
like that, I was also a little breathless with excitement. It
wasn't really sexual. My cock wasn't rock hard, for which I was
immensely thankful. It was more like I was doing something
dangerous, something illicit, that charged me with adrenaline. I
was fooling everyone! They were staring at me as hard as they
could, and had no idea!
The way Ellen looked at me when we turned into the beauty
shop told me she knew what I was feeling. Her smile mocked my
pleasure, said, "I told you so," without her having to say a
word.
Cindy and my wife again led me to the back room. I was
grateful to be out of sight and tried to relax. After my period
of freedom, I was dismayed when Ellen again used the velcro
straps on my wrists.
"You know what to do," she told Cindy. "And while you're at
it, she broke a fingernail this morning that needs to be fixed."
"No problem," the stylist smirked. "I've been thinking. If
you'd like, I could wax her legs and chest and I think I can do
better with her face, too."
"Great idea! Do whatever you think the little bitch needs.
I'll be back in an hour or so." She turned her wet red lips up
and smiled at me. "Be a good girl, Sheila. I think Cindy likes
you, so be very nice and don't give her any trouble."
I nodded meekly, tried to smile back, and used the tips
she'd given me on speaking right. "Have fun shopping."
As soon as she was out of sight, Cindy started acting
different. "Okay, Sheila, we're going to have a lot of fun
today. You're not going to believe how hot you're going to look
before I'm through with you."
She removed my wig, which was embarrassing. Anybody who
walked in would recognize me for what I was. I was expecting her
to style it or something. Instead, she threw it carelessly on
the counter and picked up a pair of shears. When she started
cutting away all my hair, I froze. She didn't stop until my hair
was an eighth of an inch long all over! Then, to my horror, she
picked up a straight razor and ran it ominously over a strop,
smiling wickedly at me all the while.
I sat rigidly, gripping the armrest as tightly as I could,
while she applied shaving cream to my scalp and shaved me
completely bald! I was whimpering, doing everything possible not
to cry at my humiliation.
"Now look in the mirror, Sheila!" It was a command at least
as intense as any Ellen gave me. I obeyed, fearing the
consequences, and was astonished by what I saw.
It wasn't a bald man sitting there, but a lovely, delicately
featured young woman with a scalp as slick as a cue ball! I
tried as hard as I could to see myself under the clothes and
cosmetics, and couldn't! The dangling earrings, arched eyebrows
and bowed, trembling red lips weren't mine! The heaving double
swell of my chest looked like it belonged there! The shapely
hose covered legs and towering high heels were someone else's! I
had vanished as thoroughly as if I'd never existed!
"Now for the good part," Cindy said. She lifted another
wig, long, platinum blonde and obviously very, very expensive,
from a box. She showed me a peculiar smooth liner on the
underside instead of the weave like on the other one. "What
happens is that I apply a nice smooth coat of a special epoxy to
your scalp and the wig, then . . ."
She let her words trail off. I completed the sentence for
her in my mind. It'd become permanent. Maybe, in a month or so,
as my hair grew out, it'd loosen. Until it did, the silver
blonde hair would cascade over my shoulders and reach part way
down my back. It finally penetrated that my two week vacation
"cruise" wasn't going to end that soon, no matter how well I
behaved.
I gave in to my tears while Cindy smeared the smelly paste
all over my scalp and I openly sobbed when she carefully fitted
the wig to my head, jerking it firmly into place. She wore an
expression of triumph.
"Jesus," she sneered, "what a pussy you are! It's no wonder
your wife treats you this way. It's exactly what a wimpy little
fag like you deserves! Now I'm going to take these straps off
and get you out of that corset long enough to make sure there's
not a single bit of stubble anywhere on you. Give me any shit,
and I'll invite every woman in the shop to come back and laugh at
your naked body!"
Taking all my clothes off was even worse than wearing them.
I felt like I wasn't a man anymore, and she destroyed the
illusion that I was a woman, too. She laughed at the plug
closing my ass as she smeared a burning, stinking chemical all
over me, even on my face, cock and balls, and made me endure the
torture of the depilatory far longer than was necessary. I was
afraid it was going to burn my penis and balls right off. She
pushed me into a shower and made me rinse it all off and use a
heavily perfumed soap and then fragrant body powder. I noticed
how smooth and soft I was all over. I guessed the hormones were
working, like Ellen had said.
She laced me back into the red corset even tighter than my
wife had, but had added some padding to the hip area while I
showered. When she stepped back to admire her work, I had even
more of an hourglass figure than before. She made me sit in the
chair, with nothing to cover my dangling, shriveled genitals,
while the other girl, Debbie, redid all my nails, not just the
one I'd cracked, and made them even longer and redder. The way
she smirked from time to time at my groin made me wish my sex
organs would crawl up inside me.
Cindy, meanwhile, was styling my new hair and redoing my
face, using a different colored foundation, lots of bright blush,
and making my eyes and lips look as slutty as Ellen's did. I
really and truly looked like a cheap whore with useless male
organs where a wet pussy should have been.
That's the way my wife found me on her return. Her eyes
widened with surprise, then her lush lips smiled. "Good lord,
Cindy! You're a genius!"
"You've got one hot little slut here!" the stylist laughed.
"Thirty-seven, twenty-two, thirty-five unless I'm blind. That
gold dress is going to be stretched even tighter over her mean
little ass. Too bad she's got such a pot belly under that
corset. Get her to lose fifteen pounds and she'd be a real
knockout - if she didn't have that ugly thing between her legs."
"Twenty pounds is more like it," my wife said. She patted
my wrist. "I know she can do it. She may not show it, but she
loves what you've done for her, don't you darling?"
When I meekly nodded, her hand tightened on my arm. Before
she could reprimand me for not answering aloud, I did. "Yes.
It's lovely. Thank you, Cindy."
They both laughed at my spinelessness. Cindy added, a
little hesitantly, "I, uh, came across something else I think she
might like. If you don't mind, Ellen, I'd like to give her a
present."
Ellen looked touched. "Cindy! That's so sweet! Of course
you may!" I was instantly filled with fear.
The stylist opened a drawer in her cabinet and brought out a
gaily wrapped package with "To Sheila," written on the tag and
handed it to me. The paper read "Happy Birthday," all over. I
blushed furiously.
"Well open it, silly girl!" my wife urged.
I did, fumbling, unable to use my hands as I always had due
to the absurd length of my hooked nails. I discovered I could
use them as tools, sliding them along, slitting the paper like a
letter opener. Inside the box was a bizarre flesh toned elastic
device something like both a g-string and a pouch less jock strap.
When I figured out its function, my blush went even deeper.
"A retainer!" Ellen said appreciatively. "Oh, Sheila, put it
on for us!" She ripped off the velcro bands, freeing my arms.
I bent forward as far as I could, exhaled every bit of air
in my lungs, but the corset wouldn't let come close to reaching
my ankles, even when I lifted one foot. "Will you help me?"
"Of course, darling! Here!" I delicately lifted each foot
as she slipped it over my ankles, but she stopped when she'd
lifted it to a height I'd shown I could reach. I had to do the
rest.
It was humiliating to have to detach my hose from the
garters, elevate my hips, and work the thing into place. Worst
of all was reaching inside it and arranging my penis and balls so
that they flattened into absolute invisibility. Ellen again
helped me with my tiny bikini panties. When all was done, I had
a perfectly smooth middle. Even the retainer's tough elastic
string dug so deeply into my flesh that it left no line.
For all visible purposes, I had been turned into a complete
woman, even if they peeked up my dress. No one who saw me would
ever doubt my femininity now. The leather collar covered the
lump of my larynx. My knees weren't even knobby. I felt
positive that I would "pass" wherever I went. But that was only
part of it.
My own senses reported no masculinity left in me. My
shimmering hair - the only hair I had other than my carefully
shaped eyebrows - had tickled my cleavage as I bent forward,
swung with my every move. Dangling from my ears were long gold
earrings that chimed softly when I moved my head. I had learned
to look out at the world through long black lashes thick with
mascara, day and night. When I looked at my chest, even without
breast forms, I saw how much the corset lifted and shaped my very
own flesh into small pink bosoms - and Ellen assured me that, due
to the hormones, they were growing. Now even my panties were
flat and smooth. My every word was shaped by lips that dripped
with deep red color. My fluttering hands were branded, changed
by long scarlet commas. My ass was perpetually violated by a
fake penis I'd gotten used to feeling rub my insides as I walked.
Even without high heels, my hips rolled and swayed.
My emotions weren't even my own. Maybe it was the hormones,
maybe it was something else, but the bottom line was that I cried
every time I became afraid. I felt that EVERY emotion I felt was
visible. Ellen had easily seen through my sly efforts to try to
escape from her control. And, while I hate admitting it, she'd
also read, without even trying, how pleased I was by what Cindy
had done to me. I DID like it. I WAS grateful. And the clearly
visible rush of joy that made them laugh was making me sick.
While they chatted about this and that, I paid no attention.
I was trying to name a new emotion growing in me. I hated myself
for what I was feeling. It made me feel like maybe I was exactly
what Cindy had called me - a pussy, a wimpy little fag. That was
the only kind of man I could think of who'd be so proud of his
completely feminized appearance as I was.
As Ellen turned to me and asked me a question, I was jerked
back from my sad musing. "I'm sorry," I had to confess, despite
the danger, "I didn't hear . . ."
Cindy laughed throatily. "Little cunt was so busy admiring
herself she wasn't listening."
My wife's look was stern, and her eyes shone maliciously.
"I asked you if you'd like to thank Cindy for her birthday gift."
"Yes. Of course. Thank you, Cindy. It's -"
"Not that way," Ellen interrupted harshly.
I was befuddled. Cindy took my hand, helped me stand, led
me back to the bathroom. I had no idea what was happening, but I
was sure I wasn't going to like it. She locked the door and
leaned against the lavatory. "You really didn't hear, did you?"
"Uh, no. I'm sorry. I -"
"Ellen was telling me what a great pussy eater you are, how
you make her cum like she's never cum before."
I paled, felt dizzy, sick. Unable to speak, I watched her
hands slowly lift her skirt, inch at a time.
"You know what to do, Sheila. Don't make me use f***e."
I stared at her exposed panties. They were a pale blue.
Their crotch was moist, dark. One hand released her hem. I felt
the weight of it transferred to my shoulder. I sank to my knees.
What else could I do?
She made me do it all. I watched my woman's hands tenderly
lower her panties, revealing her moist cunt, its lips shaven, but
with a cloud of brown curls left above the hooded clitoris. I
touched, stroked it, finger fucked it, careful of my nails,
exactly as she told me to. I kissed it and licked it and
inserted my tongue in her cavity to her gasped specifications.
She didn't taste quite like Ellen did. Less fishy, more
fragrant. Better, really. Her hands were rough in my hair
though. The sharp pain in my scalp was almost exactly as if my
hair was real, not like the wig had been.
When she came with a muffled shriek, I hungrily licked her
clean. My penis throbbed in my new restraint, filling it with
cum. I hadn't even touched it. My lust had betrayed me. Even
after her hands left my hair, I stayed there, kissing away the
dregs of her passion, increasingly aware of how I'd left my
lipstick all over her, how proud of myself I was for returning
her gift in the only way I could.
"You ARE good, Sheila," she purred, no laughter left in her
tone.
"Thank you. You taste so good, Cindy." I kissed her
reddened clitoris one last time. Was it really me admitting
that, meaning that? It must be.
She helped me to my feet, more tender than she'd ever been.
She gathered me in for a soft kiss, and I offered no resistance,
automatically parted my lips for her tongue. "Next time, I'll
give you another present and maybe I'll taste you. Would you
like that?"
"If you want to. If it's okay with Ellen," I stammered. My
eyes were on my face in the mirror as she hugged me. My cheeks
were wet with her fluids. My lips were smeared. When I licked
them, I tasted the candy of my lipstick and the richness of her
cum. I'd made her do that, given her so much pleasure that she'd
shouted it aloud.
"You didn't answer me, slut. Would you LIKE that?"
"Yes, Cindy. Very much. I . . . I came, too." I watched
the honesty made my face red.
She pushed me to arms length, her eyes twinkling merrily.
"You did? Show me!"
My regret was instantaneous. I stuttered, looking for a way
out. Her expression turned stony. "Show me, whore! Show me the
mess you made in the present I gave you!"
Batting back tears of shame, I wiggled my panties down, then
the heavy elastic, sticky with spewed sperm. My cock hung, tiny
and wrinkled and ugly, shiny with thick spunk.
Cindy's laughter was like tinkling bells. "What does Ellen
make you do when you cum? Doe she punish you?"
I could lie, I thought. Maybe she wouldn't tell my wife.
But if she did? And, did I really WANT to lie? "She . . . she
makes me eat it."
"Well? What are you waiting for?"
I was ready for it that time. I knew the taste and texture.
I sc****d up what I could. She made me unhook my hose and remove
the device and lick it clean. Her eyes glittered the whole time.
Her breath was quick again. I could see her nipples through her
dress. This was giving her pleasure, too. I made a small, shy
show of the process, trying to look like I enjoyed what I was
doing. Didn't I, at least a little? Wasn't this a vital part of
what'd been done to me? Didn't it earn me favor, freedom? Such
a small price to pay.
"May I put it back on now, Cindy?" I'd seen how my penis
was growing. I wanted to hide it.
"No. Let's show Ellen what a good bitch you've been."
I hung my head and she led me out, panties dangling from one
hand, retainer from the other. Her voice was thick while she
related every detail to my wife. I hazarded a glance at Ellen
from beneath the shield locks of my tangled hair, and quailed
inside.
She wasn't pleased by my actions. She was shocked, maybe
even dismayed, and trying not to show it. I felt my lower lip
begin to tremble as my eyes filled with fearful tears. I'd been
so sure I was doing the right thing!
The next time I glanced up, her face was a blank mask, and
her eyes were on me, not Cindy, whose voice was but a dim echo.
She read my confusion like I was an open book. I guess I was. I
couldn't look away. She deliberately reached into her purse and
came up with a package of cigarettes and a lighter. My shock
deepened. She abhorred everything about tobacco, yet she tapped
out a cigarette and lit it and inhaled as if she'd been doing it
for years. I was like a rodent hypnotized by a snake, staring
vacantly at how her bright lips stained the white filter, then
pursed as if she was kissing the grey plume she exhaled.
Cindy's tale ended and my wife's eyes dismissed me. She
smiled tightly, but Cindy missed the tension in it. "Very good,
Sheila. You're turning into the perfect little slut, aren't
you?"
She was waiting. I didn't know what to say. "I . . . I
guess so. I'm sorry if -"
"There's nothing to be sorry about, darling. Nothing at
all. But we have to hurry. There's so much to do before we go
out tonight. Go back in there and get dressed. Fix your makeup."
Ellen paid Cindy while I quickly wiggled into my undergarments,
repaired my lipstick and powdered my face. The stylist refused a
tip. "Sheila's already given me one," she laughed. "Bring her
back next week if you'd like to begin electrolysis on her face."
I followed numbly. Electrolysis to remove my thin facial
hair? I didn't even worry about it. All my worries were focused
on my wife. She marched quickly along, forcing me to have to
hurry to keep up. I felt awkward, stumbling along as best I
could in the five inch heels, and knew I was making a fool of
myself. She was angry what I'd done. Very angry. I'd be
punished horribly for some transgression, and I wasn't even sure
what it was. Because I'd had an orgasm as I ate Cindy? That
must be it.
She didn't slow her pace, and I fell farther and farther
behind. Everyone was looking at us - the striking brunette in
the clinging black Lycra dress, and the slutty, clumsy platinum
blonde. After a while, I realized no one could tell I was
following her. We didn't look like we were together.
A surge of panic made me bite my lower lip to stifle a
shout. Was she going to abandon me here? Was she deliberately
going to f***e me to get home however I could? My pace faltered,
throwing me even further behind. What was I going to do? I had
no money, no identification - nothing! My legs refused to carry
me another step. I was frozen, in the middle of a throng of
shoppers. A man bumped into me and I nearly leapt out of my
skin.
He stopped. "You okay lady?" His eyes touched me, raked
me.
I bolted. I couldn't stand how close he was, what his eyes
were doing. I pursued my wife, not caring how it looked. I felt
like my very life depended on catching her before she reached the
car. To my utter horror, I couldn't see her. Even in five inch
heels, everyone was taller than I was. The crowd had closed
around her, as if it was trying to hide her. I hesitated,
turning hopelessly this way and that, at the juncture of two
wings of the mall, having no idea which direction she'd gone. I
was too scared to even remember where the car was. I'd never
felt so utterly lost and alone, even as a c***d. How could she
hate me so much that she'd do this to me?
I was positive my immobility was again drawing more
attention to my face and body. I knew I looked like I was
advertising, asking for exactly the kind of looks I was being
given. There was nothing exciting about it now. My wife had
buffered me from it, made me safe. Now, I was totally
vulnerable, exposed even more than I had been when Cindy stripped
me nude in the salon.
Terror became dread certainty. Something horrible was going
to happen.
"Scared, cunt?" came a sibilant whisper in my ear.
I whirled to her, my nightmare ended. "Oh, Ellen! Where
were you?"
"You're crying. Stop it this instant." She handed me a
tissue. She was still angry, but there was compassion, too.
I hadn't even been aware of my tears, and was ashamed. "I'm
sorry." I blotted my eyes like she'd taught me. "I guess I was
making a fool of myself again. Did I mess up my eyes?"
"Not too badly. Come on. I need a drink."
This time, her pace was moderate, but her low grade anger
made me hold back a step. I was desperate to please her, to make
amends for whatever I'd done wrong. I reminded myself to stand
tall, act proud, do everything she'd told me to do. It didn't
fully register that we were going to a bar until she crossed the
flow of traffic and led me into a dim, hushed space that smelled
of smoke and liquor. It was barely three in the afternoon, and
the place was anything but crowded. My wife occupied one half of
an isolated booth. I took the other side.
She silently stared at me until I dropped my eyes. The
tension was so thick I could taste its bitterness on my tongue.
Urgency built within me to end it, but my jaw seemed locked
closed. My mind spun madly, looking for the right thing to do,
to say. A waitress appeared. Ellen ordered a pair of stingers
in somber tones. I thought she was digging through her handbag
for makeup so I could make repairs, but she extracted another
cigarette instead. The lighter added light to her face for a
moment.
"What? You disapprove of me smoking?"
"It's just a shock is all. It looks so . . . like you've
been doing it for a long time."
She exhaled with what seemed relief. "What if I told you I
started oh, say, six months ago? What if I said that, since you
weren't paying any attention to me, I bought this dress and
started going out?"
My mouth hung open foolishly. "You did? Oh, God, Ellen!"
Pictures flickered through my mind. Ellen, painted and needy,
sitting in places like this looking for men.
"I didn't say that's what happened. I said 'what if.' How
would that make you feel?"
"Sick, I guess. And sorry I was so blind. Is there
anything I can do -"
Her laugh was harsh. "You keep assuming that's what
happened, you stupid bitch. If you knew I'd been fucking other
men - excuse me, men period - would you feel betrayed? Jealous?"
"Of course! I love you, Ellen. I'd do anything to -"
The waitress delivered the drinks, reducing us to silence
again. It was even worse than before. It was like she'd fed me
a slow poison. I felt it eating at my guts. Doubt assailed me.
Surely I'd have known. I'd have smelled the smoke clinging to
her flesh and clothes. I'd have been able to tell if another
cock had been inside her, if her lips had been passionately
locked to another mouth.
"'Anything,'" she mocked me, easily taking more smoke.
"There's that word again, Sheila. Every time you use it, you
make me want to test you, to push you, to see if you really mean
it."
I squirmed.
"Drink up," she ordered, not touching hers, but waiting for
me to sip from my glass. Neither of us were big fans of hard
liquor. Instantly, I felt the small taste. Its warmth expanding
outward from my empty stomach. It'd been two days since I'd had
a decent meal, and I knew the drink was going to hit me like an
avalanche. I wanted to ask her for a sandwich of something. I
held my tongue.
"You still don't get it, do you?"
"I . . . I think so. You're saying that what I . . . what
happened with Cindy made you feel . . . uh, betrayed."
She leaned back. Her bl**d red smile was sharp as a knife.
"I warned you. Remember? 'If you act like a slut, I'll have to
treat you like one.' I think those were my exact words."
"But I was just doing what you ordered me to do!"
"Did I tell you to cum? Did I tell you to like it? Did I
tell you to lick up your cum, or kiss her, or promise to let her
suck you off the next time she gives you a present?"
"No." I stared at my woman's hands wrapped around the
drink, the rim marked by my woman's lips.
She leaned forward. Her breasts touched the table. I could
see down almost to her nipples. "What do you call someone who
gives sex in return for gifts?"
My heart shriveled. "But you told me to thank her that way!
I -"
"I didn't say a fucking thing about 'next time,' did I?
Answer me! What kind of woman does what you did?"
She was right. What'd I'd done - almost all of it - wasn't
really because she made me do it. I'd WANTED to. I felt the
weight of the words fill my mouth, overflow my lips. "A whore,"
I barely whispered.
"I didn't hear you."
I repeated it for her. "A whore. I acted like a whore."
"Is that what you are, Sheila?"
"No! I'm sorry, Ellen. I was wrong. I did a terrible
thing. It'll never happen again. I promise."
"Un huh. And I'm supposed to forgive you. Just like that?"
I swallowed. "I, uh . . . I guess I should be punished."
"Are you asking me to punish you?"
I finally managed to meet her steely gaze. "I want you to
do whatever you need to do. I need you, Ellen. I love you more
than anything. If you have to hurt me to forgive me, I'll take
it." I was whining, begging. I meant it with my entire being.
"When I thought you'd abandoned me here, I saw how much I need
you. I can't stand the thought of ever being without you. I
think I'd die without you. You've . . . I'm different now. I'm
scared all the time. The only time I feel good is when I'm doing
what you want."
I watched her anger evaporate, saw the real love in her
eyes. "Do you really mean that, honey?"
I was thrilled! "Oh, god, yes!"
"And you'll willingly prove it to me?"
I hesitated before I said the next word. I needed to be
sure I meant it, she said. "Anything."
Her smile was a ray of brilliance. Her hand covered mine,
squeezed. "You are a treasure, my love. I adore you. I
realized something myself. What you did with Cindy made me admit
to myself how much I need you, too. Now finish your drink."
I swallowed it with unladylike gulps, then gasped for
breath. We both laughed.
I shook my head at the instantaneous blast of dizziness,
felt my hair tickle my shoulders. "Whoo! That's more than I've
had to drink in years."
"Since our wedding," she grinned, then pushed the second
glass toward me.
"You want me to drink this one, too?"
"Un huh. In time. But first let's go freshen up. I love
what Cindy's done to your face, don't you?"
I babbled affirmatives to her questions as we wound our way
to the ladies' room. It was weird going in there, but the thrill
of illicitness was back. I'd always wondered what those
forbidden doors hid. I whispered how much fun it was to fool
everyone, to take little risks like this and almost dare people
to challenge me.
"I know exactly what you mean," she laughed gaily, but
softly. "I feel the same way wearing these clothes and using so
much makeup. That's why I smoke, too. It's part of the
disguise. Want to try it?"
"I'd choke. That wouldn't be very sexy, would it?"
We kept up our quiet chatter while we touched up our faces,
trading cosmetics, giving one another giggled advice. We were
mirror images, I thought. She dark, me light; she real, me
false. For the first time, being wrapped in feminine clothes, my
face coated with color, my body changed - all of it felt utterly
right. Maybe it was the hammer-like impact of the alcohol, but I
wouldn't have changed a thing, and told her so.
Her eyes filled with tears. "I never expected to hear you
say that, love."
My smile in the mirror was bright. My lips were perfect.
"I don't know - or even care - why you wanted to do this to me.
Thank you, Ellen."


STEPPING OUT

"You're making me hot again," Ellen told me. She
deliberately weighed her heavy breasts. "See?"
Her nipples were indeed denting the shimmering black Lycra
dress. "I noticed," I giggled, the alcohol making me reckless.
"Would you like me to do something about it?"
"You'd do me right here in the bathroom?" she purred.
"I'd do you anywhere you want. You make me hot, too, you
know." My lips were suddenly hungry. I wanted to replace
Cindy's aftertaste with Ellen's more pungent flavor.
"Not yet. Let's get out of here before it gets any worse."
"Worse?" I simpered teasingly, bending over to straighten my
hose, placing my face near her middle. The cascading silvery
mane felt wonderful. I could almost taste the dew certain to be
collecting on the inner surfaces of her labia. With a sudden
rush, I remembered that my wife was wearing no panties beneath
that tiny dress, that her sleek, shaved pussy was naked, mere
inches from my saliva filling mouth. I felt my face flush.
"I want to lick you, Ellen."
"You're d***k, you shameless hussy. I'd better get some
food in you. Come on."
Arm in arm, we re-entered the bar. My pulse was still
hammering. I'd eaten two pussies that day, had two marvelous
orgasms, and was feeling horny all over again. And rash.
The bar was filling. Our return drew eyes. I was already
aware of how beautiful I looked, how sexy in the shape-fitting
gold minidress. Thirty-seven, twenty-two, thirty-five, Cindy had
declared with confidence born of expertise. At five feet two
inches, sans the heels, that made me a knockout. The male eyes
touching me didn't feel quite so invasive. The potent drink had
numbed my fear, warmed my libido. It was almost a disappointment
to reach our booth and hide ourselves behind a table.
Ellen leaned forward over it. The underhalf of her fine
breasts again pressed the smooth surface, and her deep cleavage
opened to me. Her eyes were hooded, the way they got when she
was aroused. Her nipples were still erect, must be visible to
all our admirers. A stab of envy pierced me. My latex breast
forms, full as they were, felt inadequate.
"Would you like me to order you a snack, darling? Would you
like to stay for a while longer?"
I mechanically sipped the drink she'd pushed to my side of
the table. I was ashamed of my budding, twisted desire. "If you
want to." Her face changed to the look that demanded a real
answer. "Yes. I'd like that."
She leaned back, dug for the cigarettes. "Now was that so
hard?"
"I guess not." I watched her chest swell as she filled her
lungs with smoke. "Can I, uh, would you mind if I changed my
mind about, uh . . ."
"Smoking? Of course."
As Ellen's lighter flared in my hand and I hesitantly
hollowed my cheeks around the tobacco, the waitress arrived with
another pair of unordered stingers. "From the gentlemen," she
informed us, nodding toward a table of five businessmen across
the room. I didn't like the taste of smoke at all.
My wife turned to smile at the table. "Thank them, Sheila.
Give them your prettiest smile."
My face tightened, my flush deepened. Deliberately smile at
five men? Men, just like me? Well, not quite like me, I
admitted. But, wouldn't it be rude not to - as well as annoying
to Ellen? I'd already hurt her, angered her deeply, and didn't
want to risk that again. I knew how enticing my lush red lips
were as I turned up their corners and aimed them toward the
businessmen. As I did, Ellen shocked me. Beneath the table the
toe of one of her towering heels pressed against my thighs,
rubbed slickly over my hose.
My eyes jerked back to her. Her lips were slack. Her
breathing was quick. She'd slid down in her seat. "You're so
beautiful," she muttered. "Spread your legs, baby. Let me in."
My knees were knocking. I tried another puff of smoke. No
one could see, I reasoned. I obeyed her and swallowed a gulp of
my drink. Dizzily, I saw the lipstick coating its rim, marring
the white filter of the cigarette trembling in my hand. My bent-
under prick was hard, hurtful, invisible within the heavy elastic
retainer. Her shoe slid smoothly between my knees, rubbed up and
down my inner thigh. With each stroke, it went higher, its tip
dipping under my high hem, nearing the tops of my hose.
"Stop. Please," I whimpered.
"Am I embarrassing you?"
"Yes."
"Am I exciting you?"
I wet my lips. "Yes."
"Is your little clittie hard? Does it ache?"
My hips wanted to rock. I wanted to slide down so she could
reach higher. "Yes."
She suddenly dropped her foot and sat up. Her succulent
mouth shaped an inviting smile, directed over my shoulder. A
deep voice throbbed in my ear.
"May we join you?"
My entire body tensed. My head jerked toward the sound.
Two men from the distant table, broadly smiling, stood
expectantly over us. My ears were filled with a ringing noise.
I barely heard Ellen.
"Of course. Sheila honey, scoot over."
I reflexively did as she commanded, felt the bench seat sag
under a heavy weight, smelled the sharp sting of male cologne
over the stench of my cigarette. A muscular shoulder brushed me
as the man arranged himself. I dared a quick look at my wife.
Her heavy-lidded eyes were on me, glittered mischievously. She'd
deliberately set me up. She'd seen this coming. She'd toyed
with me, knowing what was going to happen.
She introduced us. I imagine I smiled mechanically,
politely, although I'll never be positive. The next few minutes
are an absolute blank, a deep hole in my memory. All I recall is
a dire sense of panic. I was trapped in the booth. I couldn't
escape. There was nowhere to go.
My glass was suddenly empty. There was what I guess was a
fresh cigarette burning between my curved fingernails. Ellen's
tall heel was sensuously rubbing my ankle. My eyes on the table,
I still saw her lean toward her gentleman, watched her pendulous
breast flatten against his bicep for a moment. Beside me was a
man. I darted my eyes up at him and he caught them. His gaze
spoke silent volumes. How desirable I was. How much he wished
he could kiss me, touch me. Fuck me.
Another round of drinks arrived. There was no food. The
unaccustomed alcohol was bringing me out of my shock. Ellen was
flirting with both men. Not outrageously, but encouraging them
nonetheless. She was gently teasing me about being so shy -
recently divorced, she explained, and way out of practice. She'd
had to drag me out, she laughed musically. I wondered if her pun
was intentional, decided it was. She'd proven her genius.
Everything she did was intentional. What did she intend to
happen next? Her hand dropped to the man's suit sleeve. Her
eyes were locked with his. My throat tightened. Would she fuck
him? Would she make me . . .
My voice was shrill. It seemed to explode into the natural
flow of conversation. "Excuse me. I have to use the rest room.
Ellen?" It was a raw, desperate plea.
"Already?" she drawled. Her companion slid out.
Mine patted my thigh, let his hand linger for an instant
before he moved. "Hurry back." His breath puffed against my
overheated cheek.
The drinks hit me like a truck the second I stood. The man
who'd freed me from the prison of the booth - Larry, I think his
name was - caught me, or I might have toppled off my heels. It
was how he performed the chivalrous gesture that was notable. He
gathered me into his strong arms like a lover. He didn't hold me
tightly or lewdly, but did press against me from breast to thigh.
My thoroughly warmed latex tits must have been convincingly soft.
Through my spinning dizziness, I felt his erection on my hip.
I fumblingly pushed away from him, but he kept his hands on
my shoulders, steadying me. The earth slowed its nauseating
spin. Ellen was standing beside me, wearing a wry red grin. She
took my elbow and guided my wobble toward the rest room. Her
grip on my arm was painfully tight. The instant the door closed
behind us, she pushed me against the wall length vanity. Her
voice was a raw hiss.
"What the fuck's going on, Sheila? First you pout and sulk
like a little k** because I invited two gentlemen to sit with us,
then you leap into the guy's arms like a horny teenager."
"I'm d***k," I slurred. "I fell."
"My ass! It was deliberate as hell!"
"No!" I wailed. "I hate this, Ellen! All I want to do is
go home!"
She sucked smoke savagely, spat it back out. "Maybe you'd
like it if we took them with us? You'd like to fuck him,
wouldn't you?"
I shook my head so wildly that I staggered. I felt the
tears gathering in my eyes. "Don't say that. You know it's not
true. Please don't be mad at me. You know I can't drink."
"No one's been forcing you, bitch."
"I'm scared. It . . . I . . ."
She suddenly relented, hugged me, petted my silvery mane.
It felt good to be comforted. I nestled into her arms, lowered
my head to her shoulder. Her voice was soothing. "This is
happening too fast for you, isn't it? All these new sensations,
these new feelings. It must be very confusing."
I nodded meekly, sighed from the pit of my soul. The smell
of smoke mingled with her perfume to form an earthy scent.
"And," she chuckled, "I guess I did forget to order you
something to eat. Tell you what. Let's go back out there and
make excuses and get out of here. Okay?"
"Thank you, Ellen!"
"But I want you to do something for me first."
"Of course!"
"I want you to kiss him goodbye. A nice long kiss, like you
mean it."
I lifted my wobbly head. My eyes were big as saucers and
I'm sure my pouty mouth hung open in shock. I started to ask her
if she was serious, but there was ice gleaming in her eyes. I
dropped my gaze. I'd screwed up so many times today that I'd
lost count. I owed her whatever repayment she demanded. I'd
promised.
I barely heard my own voice. "You really want me to?"
"I do. Open your mouth. Use your tongue. I'll kiss mine,
too - but I'll be watching you. It'll make my cunt gush down my
legs. It'll be fun to watch them fall all over themselves,
honey. They'll beg us to go out with them. We'll give them a
fake phone number, then I'll get you home and feed you and sober
you up. Deal?"
"I guess."
"Look at me," she demanded throatily, wiggling her skirt up,
baring her garters, then her naked cunt. "Look how fucking wet
you make me, baby. You turn me on so much it's killing me. I'm
not hot because of those good looking men. I'm dripping because
I love watching you, Sheila. Feel it, baby. Feel how wet I am."
I numbly reached down and rubbed her labia with a slender
finger. She purred, rocked her hips and took it a little inside.
She was so slick, so ready.
"That's what I want to kiss," I heard myself say. "That's
where I want my tongue."
She took a step back, her eyes deep pools of desire. "Not
now. In the car. On the way home. Just pretend his mouth is my
cunt." She stretched the black dress down over her hips, hiding
her beautiful pussy.
She made me look at myself in the mirror. A reality check,
she called it. My own passion was as visible as my wife's. My
nipples couldn't get hard like hers, but my face reflected it
just as deeply. Guiltily, I smelled the finger that had caressed
her. Her chuckle at my gesture was low.
"Let's go do it," she said, "and get out of here before I
**** you on the spot."
Her left tit rubbed my right arm on the voyage back. I
watched the table approach, saw both men stand politely. They
really were good looking guys. Their suits were expensive. They
were polite to a flaw, and just a little forward. But then we
looked like the kind of women who were asking for male advances,
so that was to be expected.
Ellen paused as we approached. Sheila's not feeling well, I
heard her drone. We had to go. Disappointed noises from both.
Ellen took us a step closer. My eyes were locked on the one
who'd picked me. Well trimmed dark hair. Gleaming white teeth.
Much taller than I was, and vastly more muscular.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Ellen respond to the other
one's faint invitation and lean toward him. I mimicked her,
refusing to think.
He gathered me up like I was a precious treasure. He
enfolded me in arms far more powerful than any I'd been in. His
head bent toward mine and my lips parted, just as they would have
for Ellen. My arms went around his waist.
His mouth was hard. His face was slightly scratchy. His
tongue was quick, agile, demanding. He ground his face against
mine and took my mouth with his own. There was no way I could
pretend it was my wife. His swollen groin was tight against my
belly. When I pulled away, he relented, released me. My
lipstick decorated him like an indelible stain, yet it vanished
completely as he transferred it to his white silk handkerchief.
Did he have a wife who'd notice it, I wondered stupidly, then
tore my eyes away.
Ellen was completing the lie. Her desire-bruised lips were
slightly blurred, just as mine must be. I could make no sense of
her words, just waited patiently for her to finish. My man was
saying something. I smiled mechanically, my thundering pulse
drowning out all sound. When Ellen turned, so did I. We made
our escape.
All I remember about the long trip back to the car is the
way my body moved. The plug buried in my ass caressed me with
every short stride. My hips felt loose, and I knew they swayed
sexily. I didn't care. I felt my breast forms bounce every time
my high heels jarred against the terrazzo floor. I felt the
breeze of my movement lick my sleek thighs, my long hair tickle
my shoulders, the faint weight of the heavy earrings. The
corset's tightness was reassuring. My stone hard little cock,
aimed toward my warm ass cheeks, rubbed slightly between my
thighs. I was as d***k on sensation as I was on liquor.
I remember more about the drive home. I vividly recall
burying my face between Ellen's wantonly spread thighs as she sat
behind the wheel. I knew the windows were tinted and that my act
would be unseen, but I'd have done it anyway. I sucked and
nibbled her through two restrained orgasms and was working toward
a third by the time we achieved the garage. She d**g me away
from her gaping cunt long enough to slide the seat back, then
fucked my face with crazed abandon, beating my chin with her
hips. I don't think she was even aware she was speaking.
"Oh, fuck me with that slutty tongue, baby. Stick it deep
in me, just like you did Cindy's nasty little hole. I almost
died when you came out with your clit and balls dangling down and
your cum still in your hot little whore's mouth. I saw how you
kissed that guy, cunt. You loved it. You let him tongue fuck
your mouth, didn't you, you nasty little slut? You felt how hard
you made his big cock, didn't you? Every time you smoked, it was
like you were sucking a dick. The way you strutted through the
mall turned you on, didn't it? It made you feel like a tramp,
didn't it? You loved every minute of the whole fucking day,
didn't you, baby?"
There was more. It was like each accusation, each question
drove me deeper into her slick slit. It was all true, every word
of it. And I wasn't ashamed. I felt no guilt. She was proud of
me. This was what she wanted. Atop my lust was an overlay of
gratitude. I trusted her. She knew what I wanted, what I
needed. When she finally exploded, she did so with v******e.
She twisted my head, crushed my skull, jerked madly on my hair.
I felt my own orgasm trying to fill my panties, and somehow
managed to deny it. She hadn't given me permission.
The instant she threw me away from her, I rawly begged her
to let me finish myself. I was writhing with need, had to made
fists of my hands to keep them from my silky center.
Ellen sprawled obscenely against the driver's door, her
dress around her waist, her heavy tits exposed. Her nipples were
immense. Her cunt lips still pulsed. Her makeup was intact,
although she'd gotten lipstick on her teeth from biting her lower
lip. She stared at me, had trouble lighting a cigarette.
"Put your feet on the dashboard," she growled. "Open your
legs as far as you can."
I scrambled to do what she wanted.
"Reach down and show me your clit."
I jerked the panties away, loosed my purpled member from the
restrainer, displayed it, gasping, trying not to blow at the
wonderful thrills created by my touches.
"Bend forward as far as you can, slut. Try to suck it.
Jack yourself off. Shoot straight into your mouth."
I couldn't f***e the corset to bend much more and I whined
in frustration. She helped me, grabbing my ankles, forcing my
knees higher. It felt like I was being cut in half.
"Open those slimy lips, whore, and do it."
Two seconds later, I erupted. A gout of sperm splatted
against my forehead. A second struck my lower lip. The third
landed on my heaving chest. The rest simply drooled over my
pumping fist. The instant she released me, I started scooping up
the fragrant, warm cum, eating it like it was my favorite candy,
wishing there was more.
"Good, baby," she cooed, "but not good enough. Let's get
you inside. I've got something I need to show you."

HOME SWEET HOME

Later - much later, emotionally, if not by the clock - Ellen
helped me to bed. I needed every bit of assistance I could get.
I'd been tied in a position similar to, though more relaxed than
the torturous bent forward stance she'd employed the night
before, and she'd taught me two very important lessons. I was
more accustomed to the squeeze of the corset and the angle of the
high heels, so that part of it wasn't nearly as agonizing. The
rest of the punishment, though, was much vicious than merely
being spanked.
Ellen's first exercise was designed to illustrate how to
suck cock. She employed a strap-on dildo, one end of which was
buried in the denuded cunt still bearing my lipstick, and
demanded that I perform fellatio on her until my jaws ached and
the back of my mouth was raw. Begging her not to abuse my throat
had proven worse than useless. As she tapped her false cock
against my sealed red lips, she reminded me of my vow to do
anything to earn her forgiveness. Would I prefer it if she went
to some bar and picked up a stranger equipped with the real thing
and brought him home for me? She'd be happy to drop to her knees
in front of me and lick its length, kiss its swollen head, and
demonstrate first hand how it should be done, if I wanted that.
My answer was to part my lips and ask her to tell me what to do.
The second lesson was how to take the same device, thickly
greased, up my stretched asshole. Relax, she'd urged as she
pushed into me, and enjoy it. The physical pain was much less
than I expected. The butt plug must have opened me up quite
well, and the alcohol had deadened me. The emotional trauma was
much more severe.
My wife fucked my virgin ass - my cunt, she called it, her
throat clogged with lust - until the pressure of the dildo
against her clit made her cum. By then I was so delirious that I
could almost feel the rubber dong pulse and ripple in my gut as
if it was expelling a huge load of sperm deep into me.
Both were punishment for my slutty behavior at the beauty
salon, fulfillment of her earlier vow to treat me like a whore if
I acted like one. After her orgasm had eased, she gently
withdrew her cock from me and wiped it clean. As she used the
warm, damp cloth to remove the messy lubricant from my fiery red
lower cheeks, she reached beneath me and fondled my engorged
cock, murmuring that I'd earned a reward. My hips resumed the
thrust they'd learned while she'd fucked me, and I watched
enthralled from between my spread, chained, hose clad legs, as
her hand glided over my long flesh, massaging it against the
latex prick, heated by my bowels and still strapped to her. I
shrieked as I came, shooting my jism all over her hand and the
dildo.
When she moved back to my head, she didn't need to order me
to lick the shaft and her hand clean. That I was hungrily
licking real cum from a cock shaped toy was an irony that wasn't
wasted on me.
Again I slept on the floor, chained to the bed frame,
dressed in the loosened corset and a different teddy. Ellen had
coaxed my stunned brain through the laborious process of removing
all my makeup, explaining that it wasn't good for my complexion
to sl**p in it, and showing me exactly how I needed to care for
my skin. I voided my violated bowels and easily returned the ass
plug to its home. In my exhaustion, even my color-stripped face
looked wholly female. I still felt d***k, or d**gged. I
wondered why I hadn't seen how feminine my were features before,
how I had truly been a woman awaiting her rebirth all my life.
I silently cried myself to sl**p, not because I was pain
wracked from her violation of me, not due to the cruelty of
having every possible trace of my masculinity erased - but
because I'd loved almost everything that'd happened to me, the
whole day long. My thoughts weren't about how I could restore
myself back into maleness after my two week surprise vacation
ended, but rather to pray that I could somehow extend it forever.
It'd taken Ellen just over thirty-six hours to reveal, to
myself and the world at large, a side of myself I'd barely dared
to even fantasize about. While I'd sneakily worn her panties and
dresses, this was what I'd wanted. It'd been too horrifying, too
perverse to admit, even in the darkest recesses of my mind.
Even as I was wracked by silent sobs, I was wondering what
my wife had in mind for the next day. I knew that, no matter
what I said, no matter how strenuously I objected, I'd welcome
whatever she made me do, no matter how degrading.
My eagerness had passed by morning. The pain that hadn't
been there the night before throbbed in my ass, burned in the
back of my mouth. My calves, feet, and the small of my back were
incredibly sore from wearing the tall heels all day. My scalp
itched like mad under the permanently affixed wig. I had a
hangover that felt like some insane blacksmith was at work at an
anvil between my ears. My stomach growled with both hunger and
nausea.
When Ellen released me, she didn't bother with shackles. I
staggered into the bathroom barefoot to take care of essential
business. Unlike the morning before, I couldn't bring myself to
stand to urinate. I told myself that was because I was so sick,
and knew it was a lie. I sat on the toilet ring because it
would've been too shameful to act like I was still a man. My
penis and testicles were the only part of me that looked male,
and I couldn't bear the thought of peeing the old way. It
would've been shamefully hypocritical, a senseless denial of what
had already become my reality.
A long hot soak in a fragrant tub eased my physical woes,
and a real, if low-fat, breakfast lessened my psychic ones.
Ellen weighed me. I was astonished to see that I'd already lost
five pounds. Her warning that the next fifteen would be harder
wasn't lost on me. I swallowed my big "vitamin" with mixed
feelings. I'd become aware how the large dose of hormones had
already affected my body. Part of me wished I could swallow the
entire bottle and accelerate the changes taking place. The other
part was ashamed to tears of that perverse desire.
She had me dress in the black corset, but left it moderately
loose, and had me cover it with the first casual clothes I'd worn
in what seemed forever. The new designer jeans were satisfyingly
tight, and the three inch heels were as easy to move in as tennis
shoes had been in my old life. I thought the green cotton blouse
was flattering with the gold choker in place of the leather
collar I'd been wearing for the last two days. The only makeup
she allowed me was lipstick and mascara, which I had to do
myself.
I was still a pretty young woman, but one more suited to
keeping house than teasing cock at the mall. With rubber gloves
protecting my too-long nails, I set about cleaning the house with
more gusto than I'd ever felt before.
It was a purely domestic day, as were most of the two which
followed. There were no outrageous outside adventures. No
shopping. No drinks at bars. No scenes with other women - or
men.
Ellen developed a routine for me. There were exercises
designed to limber me as well as work off pounds, without
building ugly muscles. There were daily lessons in feminine
behavior and voice sessions every afternoon. I gave myself two
enemas every day. While grocery shopping - our only trip out of
the house during those three quiet days - my wife bought me a
videotape on cosmetics and demanded I memorize it, as well as
read every magazine article I could find on the same topic.
My feminine lifestyle quickly became second nature. I got
so used to my long silvery hair that I couldn't imagine having
ever been without it. I found I could do everything with my long
painted nails that I'd done before. The aches in my leg and back
muscles eased and being without high heels didn't feel normal.
During rare moments without breast forms and a butt plug, I felt
like I'd been stripped of vital parts of myself.
That was one of the most effective ways Ellen punished me.
After breaking one of our wedding wine glasses while unloading
the dishwasher, she angrily took off all my clothes and made me
continue my chores nude except for five inch heels and heavy
rubber gloves. I hated the way my cock and balls dangled,
slapped against my smooth, hairless thighs with every step. I
felt fat and ugly with no corset to give me the lovely shape I
identified with. After an hour, I was in tears, begging her to
let me stretch my retainer over my male organs and lace me back
into a corset.
She was lounging in a hot bath while I cleaned the toilet
and tile floor. "You've broken something irreplaceable, Sheila.
We toasted one another with that glass at our wedding reception.
After having destroyed a symbol of our marriage, you ask me to
lighten your punishment?"
"Just change it," I said in my more refined female voice.
"Please, Ellen. This is too . . . too -"
"Humiliating? Disgraceful?" she mocked.
I nodded, unable to meet her eyes.
"If I let you start making amends, will you do everything I
say for the rest of the day without hesitation? No matter what
it is?"
"Yes! I promise!"
She lay in the steaming water with her eyes closed for a
moment. A smile grew on her face. "Run to the vanity and bring
back your favorite lipstick, doll."
I took her order literally. Running in the tall heels was
more scamper than trot, but I'd become used to their limitations.
"Lay on your back on the floor."
The tile was cold.
"Raise your knees and spread your legs so you can see your
clit. Good girl. Take off your gloves. Now paint it with the
lipstick. All of it. I want it to be fuscia from top to
bottom."
I stretched it, stroked the tube of vivid color up and down.
It hardened as I did, exposing yet more surface area to be
coated. She climbed from the tub, stood at my feet as I
finished.
"Do your mouth, baby. Smear it on heavy."
The chills racing through me weren't caused by the cool
floor. I ran the lipstick over my mouth again and again until
she nodded approval.
"Now jack off, bitch." She grabbed my ankles and bent me
double, pushing my knees as wide as they'd go. My shaft felt
greasy in my palm, which was instantly coated with bright color.
She strained my back and neck muscles until they screamed with
pain, leaning all her weight on my comma shaped body, forcing my
cock closer and closer to my face.
"Pull your plug, cunt. Fuck your ass with the lipstick.
No! Leave the cap off the tube!"
The plug came out with the usual wet sensation. It was
larger than the lipstick, which slid easily inside my loosened
hole. I held it so I could see the dark plastic holder go in and
out. My hand was a blur on my dick. Slowly, my strained muscles
let it come still closer to my slick red lips.
"Lick it, whore."
I strained my tongue as far as possible, but it wasn't far
enough. I was an inch away from the smeared, swollen purplish-
red tip.
"Cum, lover. Shoot every drop right in your slutty little
mouth."
As if her command was enough to make me explode, I did
precisely what she demanded. The closeup sight of my expanding,
pulsing prick, the vision of the first gout of sperm being
expelled, the shocking sensation of my cum spattering inside my
gaping mouth - these factors seemed to quadruple the intensity of
my orgasm, send me into a realm beyond anything I'd ever
imagined. At that instant, my tongue somehow managed to make
contact with my leaping cock.
Something happened deep within my soul. Something
irreversible. It was like an electrical circuit had been closed,
a psychic switch flipped. An all new energy burned through me.
It was entirely my imagination, but I felt the whole length of my
dick slide between my lips, into my mouth, down my throat. All
this in the split second before the second burst of cum hit my
hard palate, instantly followed by the third and fourth. By
then, my entire body was involved in the mind-boggling climax.
My ass was spasming around the lipstick tube, squeezing it like a
pussy does a cock. My hips were desperately trying to fuck my
mouth.
As the surges began to fade, my universe expanded beyond my
body. I heard my harsh gasps for air, Ellen's thick voiced
encouragements. The heel of one of my red shoes was buried in
her cunt. But, above all, the wonderful ripeness of my cum
coated my mouth and tongue and soul. I'd been made whole. A
single touch of tongue to cock had made all the difference in the
world.
I caught the last oozes and dribbles in my cupped palm,
milked my staff with my lipstick covered fist, and licked it
clean with a voracious hunger. I'd stepped over a precipice and
was still falling. My taste had been whetted, not appeased. I
wanted more - craved a steady flow of sperm down my throat, not
the teasing appetizer I'd given myself. I knew I'd gone mad and
I welcomed it.
Ellen disrupted my delirious reverie by lifting herself off
my spike heel and dropping my rubbery legs. She fell atop me,
her hips thrusting incoherently against my shrinking dick, her
lips devouring mine, her tongue frantic to share the flavor of my
sperm. I felt the lipstick tube slip from my ass. I opened my
jaws to my wife, letting her lap from my cavity like a dog does
from a bowl. She too was cumming, using my spent rod to rub her
clit.
When she abruptly jerked away from me, her face bore an
expression that was as crazed as mine must have been. Her voice
was low and raw. "Wash the slime off your face and hands, whore.
Leave everything else exactly as it is and have your nasty ass in
the bedroom in three minutes."
She bolted from the bathroom like a berserker before I could
move. Every muscle in my body was relaxed. Pushing myself to my
knees took a massive effort. But I could almost hear a clock
ticking off the seconds in my head. I was infected by her wild
energy. I scrubbed at my face and hands, whining with
frustration at the stubbornness of the lipstick's stains.
I had no idea if I met her deadline. Neither did Ellen.
She was throwing clothes at the bed as I hurried on wobbly legs
into the bedroom.
"Get dressed, you sleazy cunt."
I tried to be careful not to smear my lipsticked cock and
ass on my hands as I arranged my organs in the tight grip of the
retainer. I squirmed into the red corset while she lit a
cigarette and stared at me through narrowed, smoldering eyes. I
rolled up equally red hose, stepped into scarlet bikini panties.
I looked around for an ass plug. There was none. I looked at
her helplessly, seeking guidance.
She grabbed the laces of the corset and began hooking me
into it. Never had she used such strength, restrained me so
impossibly tight. Even without the gel filled breast forms, my
tit flesh bulged into the cups. My nipples were nearly as
swollen as my wife's. And I wished it was tighter still. I
ached for my tits to fill the cups to overflowing.
She tied me off and roughly pushed me toward the vanity.
"Paint yourself, slut. We're going out. We're going to get you
laid for real. Make yourself look like the whore you are,
Sheila. If you don't use enough makeup, I'll make you watch
while some real man drills my cunt, then make you lick his cum
out of me."
I was utterly infected. I wanted that. I wanted to lay
helplessly beside her while a long fat prick drilled her wet
pussy. I wanted to hear her cries, watch her humping, spasming
body. My mouth watered at the thought of tasting her cum mixed
with someone's sperm. It would've been more like reward than
punishment.
I created a face just as slutty as she wanted because I
wanted it as much as she did - maybe even more. I felt hollow,
empty. I was going to be fucked. By a man.
"Good," she growled, rubbing her cunt against the back of my
head. She ran a dildo over my cheek. "Use this on yourself
while I do my makeup. Don't even think about cumming again."
I flopped on the bed, curled my sexy legs to my chest and
stroked the long thin rubber cock in and out of my lipstick
slickened ass while I watched her. It was good. Very good.
I won't lie. I won't claim that everything that happened
that night was because of Ellen's dominance. That had nothing to
do with it. I did it all on my own. My mind remained filled with a
haze as thick as my cum. It allowed only surreal images of
twisted lust to take shape. I was possessed.
I spoke the name of the notorious bi-sexual bar through lips
too heavy with lipstick and gloss. I drove us there while she
used the dildo on her gushing pussy. I licked it clean after
each of her two orgasms. I asked her for a cigarette after we
parked, after I'd freshened my wet red lips, just before I led
our pranced entrance. I sucked smoke as I scanned the crowd,
found us a table. I crossed my legs so anyone who cared to got a
good look at my long thighs.
I was completely devoid of shame. I selected and rejected
my dance partners, seeking just the right man. I found him after
about a half hour. I forgot about Ellen, who was on the dance
floor dry fucking some guy. I was at the table, working on my
second drink and my third cigarette. I wanted him the moment he
sat in my wife's empty chair. My half hard clit lurched toward
the crack of my ass. My lips ached to be crushed under his, and
I unabashedly let him know it.
He wanted to dance first. I felt his cock swell against my
belly as I pressed into him. It was for me. His cum was for me.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and strained against him. I
stood on tiptoe and claimed his mouth, drove my tongue between
his parted lips exactly like I wanted his prick to take me. He
finally got the idea. I was no nice girl playing the dating
game. I was a wanton slut who only wanted his meat.
Ellen had guided her partner near us and caught my eye. Her
hand was openly rubbing her man's cock. Her mouth was smeared.
Her nipples were twin bullets trying to tear through her black
cocktail dress. Her gyrations on the dance floor had raised her
skirt high enough to expose the tops of her hose. Her eyes were
glowing embers, drilling into me.
I was looking at her while I licked my date's ear and
whispered into it. "I want to suck your cock. I need your cum."
I led him to our car, pushed him into the back seat. My
quaking hand was on his zipper before he was settled against the
far door. When I felt the heat of his long, stiff, smooth cock
in my hands, I froze. A wild thrill ripped up my spine, exploded
against the top of my skull, s**ttering hot sparks everywhere.
Time slowed. I watched my lovely hands drag it out into view.
My little fists encircled it, traveled its length, measured its
girth. My mouth filled with saliva. This was it. The time had
come. My head was pulled toward his lap by an irresistible
f***e.
I already knew what it'd feel like, taste like, look like.
There were no surprises. Far, far back, in the dark corners of
my mind, I'd imagined this all my life. Since puberty, I'd
craved this. My passion heavy red lips met the tip of his prick,
kissed it tenderly, like a long lost lover.
I knew what to do. I knew how to make him as crazy with
need as I was. No born-woman could know what I did about how to
please a man.
I made love to a disembodied cock, not the nameless man it
was attached to. I licked and sucked and kissed. I ran him into
and out of my mouth, fondling his heavy, hairy balls, flirting
with his ass, occasionally gasping and shuddering and having to
just jack him off as I was consumed with wild ecstasy.
He came too soon. I almost missed it. I had to lunge down
on him as his groans suddenly changed tone, as I felt his dick
harden yet more and begin its preliminary twitching. My head
bobbed up and down, taking as much splendor into my mouth as I
could manage.
When the first gush came, I was ready. I tightened my lips
on him and began my own orgasm as his seed hit the top of my
throat with marvelous f***e. I wanted to remember each pulse,
each gout, each choked swallow - but I lost track. Specifics
faded beneath the groundswell of my fulfillment. All I recall is
drinking him dry, trying to suck him hard again, and being pushed
away.
He was too sensitive, he said. I was hurting him. I didn't
care. I wanted that fine prick in my readied ass. It was
literally pulsing with need. And he wasn't interested. I
watched in angry disbelief as he put his cock away. He said he
wasn't into being watched and slipped out the door behind him.
That was the first indication I had of my wife's presence.
I swept my hair out of my eyes and looked over my shoulder. She
was leaning against the car next to ours fingering her cunt,
pinching her carelessly bared tits. I leaned into the front
seat, grabbed the dildo she'd left laying there. I held it out
to her, positioned myself on all fours on the seat.
Ellen lurched forward and took over. The second she drove
it between my ass cheeks, I came again. She blocked my raw
scream with her hand and fucked me with just the savagery I
needed. She kept it up even after my arms collapsed, dropping my
face onto the upholstery. She continued, using both hands, while
the seat muffled my choked sobs and wails. I'm nearly positive I
had yet a third orgasm before her arms tired, but by then I was
reduced to delirium. My hips had a life of their own, kept
rolling and thrusting long after the dildo squirted from my
hungry hole and clunked to the floorboard.


AFTERMATH

I recall nothing more until Ellen slapped me awake. She was
standing impatiently outside the opened car door.
"Wake up, slut. Time for bed."
I was still in the back seat, but the car was now in our
garage. I was on my back, my knees lifted, with the long dildo
hugged tight to my chest. I awoke with full knowledge of where
we'd been, what I'd done. I sucked a harsh breath and groaned
when I tried to move. My ass felt like the dildo was still
inside, heated white hot. The man's cum was sour in my mouth.
An emotion was building in me that I couldn't name.
I saw the next slap coming, but was too sluggish to avoid
it.
"I said move, goddamn it!"
I moved. I dragged myself upright. Clambering out of the
car and finding my balance took enormous energy. My compressed,
underclad body weighed tons. I wasn't fast enough for her.
My wife grabbed my long tangled mane and jerked hard. I
staggered after her, off balance, bent forward, flailing my arms
to keep from falling.
"You're hurting me," I whined piteously. The back of my
mouth was sore and my jaws ached.
Her only response was to bark a nasty laugh and walk more
quickly. The kitchen again. This time I knew exactly why I was
being punished, and offered no resistance as she put my ankles in
a spreader bar I'd never seen before, cuffed my hands behind me
and lifted them toward the ceiling, bending me into a right
angle. She left me there. I was afraid that I'd collapse and
dislocate my shoulders. I hadn't even managed to adjust to the
position before she returned, carrying a full length mirror. She
lowered it to the floor and slid it under me, between my widely
spread legs.
She lit a cigarette. She'd repaired her beautifully sexy
face somewhere along the line. She didn't seem as angry. "Look
at yourself, Sheila. I never want you to forget this."
I was stunned, as if she'd slapped me again. First, of
course, I saw my face. My tangled platinum blonde hair hung
down, framing my totally ruined heavy makeup. My eyes were
surrounded by wide black circles of blurred eyeliner and mascara.
The remaining deep emerald and rust eyeshadow looked bland. My
lips looked bruised, were ringed with a wide smear that was all
that remained of my thick lipstick. My false tits looked huge
with my shoulders pinned back. The hem of my wrinkled red
minidress had risen, but I'd have been able to see all the way up
anyway from this angle. Where had the little red panties gone?
My retainer dug into the soft flesh of my groin, hugging my male
organs into invisibility. The pale, slim thighs below were caked
with dried cum. My vision swam for a moment. I thought it was
his, that there was a beautiful cunt hidden in there, that it'd
leaked the some of the sperm he'd shot so deeply into my soul.
The stark light of the camera's flash attachment as Ellen
photographed me from every angle jerked me back toward reality.
"Pose for me, baby. Push that great butt out. Can you see
how red it is around your asshole? You were fucked good, whore.
Too bad it wasn't the real thing in there. It'd have felt as
good as it did in your throat. But you know that, right? You
wanted it, but the fucker let you down, didn't he?"
I nodded, remembered to add a verbal "Yes," as well.
"But you know there'll be other times. Any bitch as hot as
you are can get fucked anytime you want. And a nympho cunt like
you will want it a lot. You'll have so many dicks shoved in that
tight ass and between those cocksucking lips that you'll lose
count of them."
She fed me the cigarette. I watched my lips suck it, my
chest expand as much as it could given my restraints, then my
mouth purse as I exhaled. I felt her doing something to my left
hand, realized she was removing my wedding band. I'd noted its
incongruity once or twice. As Ellen twisted it off my finger, I
realized just how wrong it was to wear it any longer. Women
don't wear wide gold bands. They can't be married other women in
our state. I tried and failed to blink away a rush of tears.
Suddenly, the name of the dull emotion filling me had a name.
It was grief. I was mourning my own death. Ellen's husband
was dead, gone forever. Shamelessly begging to suck that cock,
thrilling to each and every sensation, had sealed his fate, made
his resurrection, not merely unlikely, but impossible. I was
Sheila now, body and soul.
I was surprised to feel her doing something else to my ring
finger. A new ring, lighter, thinner, slipped over my knuckle.
I strained my neck but couldn't see it. She slid her hand down
my back, cupped my ass cheeks and petted them.
"How much money do we have in savings?"
Her finger distracted me as it toyed with my tender asshole.
Her question made no sense for a moment. I sniffed away tears
enough to speak. "I, uh, about two thousand, I guess."
"Good. That'll get us started."
"Started?"
"You want real tits, don't you? They cost money, darling.
More like five thousand than two, I think."
Her finger dipped inside me. My eyes locked on the
reflection of my chest in the mirror. Real tits. Nice big, firm
mounds hanging there. To overflow my slinky bras. To fill a
bikini top on the beach. To be petted, sucked and bitten.
Her voice was dim in my ears. She inserted a second finger.
"Umm. I knew that'd turn you on, slut. We'll shave your larynx
and change your voice while we're at it. Maybe someday we'll be
able to buy you a nice tight cunt, too. Have a doctor gut that
useless prick and tuck it away inside you. You'd have three
holes, whore. Room for three cocks at the same time. You'd like
that. Three men fucking you. Hands all over you, driving you
crazy with lust."
Her other hand rubbed my too big clit while her fingers
wiggled within me. I was thrusting against her, watching my
sleazy lips pant as my passion again spiraled toward a new peak.
"Oh, honey," I groaned weakly. "Oh, shit. Fuck me, Ellen.
Put something big and fat in me. Something hot and hard. I need
it, honey. I need it bad."
She laughed merrily. "I've got just the thing. I've been
saving it for a special time like this. Ron? Baby, come on in
here."
I saw my shock in the mirror more than I felt it. Ron? We
had a neighbor named Ron. A body-builder our age. Married to a
dull, silent girl named Miriam.
Before I could even shape the question in my mind, it was
answered. I saw a pair of hairy, pillar-like legs approach.
Barefoot.
"Take over up here," she purred throatily, withdrawing her
fingers from my ass. "I'll get you ready."
Thicker fingers replaced hers, entered me without delicacy.
I saw Ellen sink to her knees, peer at me from between my legs.
She licked her gleaming scarlet lips. Her hands weighed a huge,
hairy pair of balls, massaged a growing cock. Without taking her
eyes off me, she kissed its swelling head, licked it with a
lascivious tongue.
"Yeah, I've been fucking Ron for almost a year, Sheila. I
love you, but your puny prick was never enough for me. Fucking
you was always more like screwing a woman with a cock than being
with a real man."
Ron laughed at that, making his dick leap in her hand. She
gave it a more lingering kiss, allowing the whole head to enter
her mouth, and moaning around it. Saliva and lipstick clung to
it as she let it pop out.
"We fucked with you right in the next room lots of times,
Sheila. We were doing it in the pool house at the Robinson's
party when I told him how much you got off sneaking around in my
lingerie. He was the one who suggested that we bring you out of
the closet, cunt. He saw you staring at his crotch a couple of
times and knew how much you'd love fucking other guys. He helped
me plan the whole thing. He deserves a good fuck, don't you
think? He deserves to be the first to dump a wad in your ass.
Give him a good ride, baby."
She guided his swollen, slickened dick between my cheeks.
Her eyes glittered and her lips were parted as she teased me,
rubbing the head around my puckered hole. What she said was
true. I'd noticed the size of his manhood with what I thought
was shameful envy. Now I knew better. It was desire.
My hole was slick and ready. I tried to push against Ron's
hard on. Ellen backed his cock away, continued her maddening
flirtation.
"Tell him what you want, Sheila."
I knew I was doing exactly as she'd said I would. I was
begging to be ass fucked. Without hesitation, I let my needs
roll from my slutty mouth. "Fuck me, Ron. Fuck my ass hard and
deep. Please. Give me what you've been giving Ellen. Cum in
me. I need you. I've wanted you ever since I watched you move
in last year. Ram that fat cock all the way in and fuck me like
a whore."
It was nothing like the dildos Ellen had impaled in me. It
was hot, both hard and silky soft - alive! And, it was huge. As
he thrust in that first few inches, I felt myself stretching, and
was filled with a burning agony. If I could have spoken then,
I'd have been begging him to stop. I couldn't. My lips gaped,
made a horrified red circle in the mirror. My heavily made up
eyes were huge. Ron yelled in pain and slapped my ass with a
hard, resounding smack. "Relax, cunt! You're hurting me!"
I gasped for breath tried to concentrate on doing what he
said. I must have achieved it, because he slid in deeper, then
began a slow pumping. Each push lessened the pain. The heat of
him, the overwhelming fullness of my ass, felt unlike anything
I'd ever known. The mirror showed his thick shaft disappearing
and emerging from my body. Ellen looked as enraptured as I was.
She had one hand in her cunt, was making wet noises with her
fingers. She used the other to alternately hold her lover's
balls and caress my hidden ones.
Overcome with lust, Ron gave up on gentleness. He took my
narrow hips in his hands and pushed hard, forcing the last half
of his meat all the way in. He started slamming into my ass
then, without concern for my comfort. After three of four of his
grunting thrusts, I no longer cared. It still hurt, but the pain
became secondary. The sights and sounds and sensations
transported me, mutated the agony, changed it to joy. I started
wiggling my hips, pushed back to greet his plunging cock. I was
fucking my wife's lover, not merely being fucked by him.
It lasted forever and was over too soon. I don't remember
Ellen jerking my retainer off my male organs. I don't know when
she started sucking my straining clit. But I do know that when
Ron's pace became frantic, when his impacts started jarring my
teeth and I was positive he was going to fill me with his cum, I
exploded in my wife's hungry mouth with enough f***e to gag her.
But, glorious as that was, it paled in significance when Ron
blew his wad in my guts. I closed my eyes. I swear to god I
felt his jerking spew all the way to my throat. I milked him,
did my best to squeeze every drop of his precious sperm from him.
As his pulsing diminished, I felt soft lips on mine, tasted
the tangy cum coating them. I returned Ellen's impassioned kiss,
sucked my cum from her full mouth.
Finally, I was whole.
"Thank you," I murmured into her mouth, making our kiss
tender, more loving than I'd known a kiss could be.
My knees were too weak to support me. When they collapsed,
my shoulders were wrenched hideously. Had Ron not still been
gripping my hips, I'd have dislocated them both. He held me up,
his cock shrinking rapidly in my ass, while Ellen stumbled to her
feet and dashed for the rope. As she released it, our lover
lowered me to the cold mirror. I felt his jism leaking from my
hole, warm and sticky, as he pulled out. One of them freed my
arms from the handcuffs.
I lay there on my side, frail and helpless, while Ellen and
Ron embraced. Her hand massaged his limp dick while he crushed
her against him and she strained against his hard lips.
She tore her mouth from his. "I want you," she growled.
"It's my turn." She jerked her head to face me. "Get him hard
for me, slut."
She led him by the dick to me, pushed him down toward my
face. I bathed his spent flesh in hot, wet, hungry kisses,
tenderly took it into my mouth and nursed on it, felt it begin to
swell, fill my cavity. The second prick to visit my mouth tasted
nothing like the first, felt even better. But Ellen deprived me
of it as soon as I'd gotten it hard. She positioned herself on
her hands and knees beside me, guided the pole in her hand
between spread thighs. Her eyes closed blissfully as he entered
her. I reached out and started squeezing her dangling tits. Ron
batted my hands away and grabbed them himself, using them for
handles as he rode her, just as savagely as he had me.
His violent thrusts moved her face closer to me. When her
eyes opened, they were glassy with lust. She attacked my mouth
with hers, grunted into me each time he hammered her. When she
started cumming, she bit my lower lip. Each time she spasmed,
she bit harder. When he suddenly stopped, she whined in shock
and need.
His voice was a snarl. "Slide under your cunt of a wife,
bitch. Lick my balls while I fuck her. See how a real woman
takes a dick."
I scrambled to obey. I not only kissed and sucked his
balls, I also flicked my tongue over Ellen's swollen clit, lapped
the fluids that overflowed her pussy. Her lips were on my organ
again, lapping the cum that'd oozed from my ass. I was still so
loose that her tongue actually entered me. I humped her face
like the wanton slut I was. I had no more boundaries. A
lifetime of limits, of denial, rolled off me like a shed skin. I
embraced my new existence, fit both Ron's tender balls between
widely opened lips and rolled my wife's clit with unabashed
abandon.
She began another series of orgasms, had to give up my
little dick in order to howl and scream. I released Ron's
testicles when I felt them tighten. It was astounding to see his
huge rod swell and throb and fill her twitching cunt with another
load of cum. As it leaked past her labia, I devoured it,
eliciting still more shrieks from her.
Ron jerked out and rolled away, gasping for breath. I
devoured her vacated hole, and she continued to cum, continued to
shrilly cry out, wracked by spasms I refused to let end.
Finally, sobbing, she fell on top of me, moving her
throbbing groin out of reach.
A sated, warm relaxation enveloped me. I only vaguely
recall the chill when Ellen rolled off me. She and Ron spoke
softly, but I could make no sense of their words. I sank into a
deep peaceful sl**p.



AWAKENING

There was a vague noise. It was dark. The bed was far too
hard, too cold. I was curled into a tight ball. When I began to
roll over, I was ripped by pain. My ass. My jaws. My
shoulders. I moaned.
"Wake up, whore." The ceiling light flared blindingly.
Memory filled me, and my pain was explained. I was still on
the kitchen floor.
Ellen leaned against the door frame, smoking. She wore only
high heels and hose. Her nipples were swollen. Bite marks
decorated the slope of her tits. Her makeup was mostly gone.
What remained made her look cheap, used - and beautiful.
I tried to speak. My throat was dry, raw, emitted only a
croak.
"Ron went home," she explained. "We're through with the
bed. Get your sleazy ass up there."
I was afraid I'd have to crawl up the stairs, but somehow
managed to climb painfully to my feet. I used the walls to keep
myself erect and followed her swaying ass and trail of smoke.
She released me from the corset and made me sl**p in the
huge wet spot they'd left on the sheets. Each breath filled me
with the perfume of their fucking. I'd been good enough to earn
a night in bed. No chains. The world faded again.
It was still dark when I awoke, my bowels and bladder both
demanding relief. I eased Ellen's arm off me and tiptoed into
the bathroom. It hurt so much that I was afraid I was shitting
bl**d, but my stool looked perfectly normal. Wiping was
agonizing. I shuddered a little, remembering how huge Ron had
felt in me, and hoped that being fucked wasn't always going to
hurt so much.
I steeled myself before using the mirror, but the glass
wasn't the enemy it had been. Even without the corset, I was
able to convince myself that my image was that of an undeveloped
- rather, a developing - woman. Those sweet lips had hosted two
cocks after all, and the dimpled ass had taken its first prick.
I squeezed and lifted my chest. If I continued to please Ellen,
my tits would grow into firm globes like hers. Men could suck
them, slide their greased dicks between them as I pressed them
together. I'd could kiss the cock heads at the top of their
thrusts, watch them swell and eject their sperm all over my face.
I renewed my vow to be good and fought down the urge to
stroke my hard clit.
I was ready to turn off the light and go back to bed when I
finally noticed the ring. Where my wedding band had been was a
small diamond engagement ring. A stab of sadness knifed me, the
grief that'd been cut off before. I hurriedly flicked off the
light, but the emotion wasn't so easily banished. It clung to me
like stale sperm, refusing to allow me to get back to sl**p.
Mourning my own death was hard. There was no corpse to shed
tears over, nothing to bury so the healing could begin. I lay
there until Ellen awoke. I went through the motions of bathing,
dressing, applying my makeup, fetching and carrying for her on
command. If she noticed my silent anguish, she made no comment.
After I'd done the breakfast dishes, she had me give us both
manicures. She was surly, terse, easily upset. She smoked
heavily and her every word dripped with scorn. Nothing I did was
quite good enough. I was extremely cautious, not wanting to do
anything to upset her further. A sinking feeling was added to my
vague sorrow. Something was wrong. She left me to do my chores
and vanished into our bedroom.
It was a little after two in the afternoon when she came
downstairs, dressed to kill in the wet looking black minidress
and metal-tipped stiletto heels. Her makeup and bearing were
those of a call girl. I was nearly finished mopping the kitchen
floor. She stood close enough to let me see that, as before, her
shaven cunt was exposed between her mesh hose and garter belt. I
felt plain in my work clothes and minimal makeup.
"I'm going out. I want you to meet me in the airport Hilton
bar at eight. Wear something really slutty, Sheila. There's
someone I want you to meet."
"Are you . . ." I swallowed. "Is Ron . . ."
"This has nothing to do with Ron, darling. It's strictly
for us. But it's very important - maybe the most important date
you'll ever have - so look your best. Understand?"
I let my eyes fall from her moist pussy back to the vinyl.
"Do you have to go so early? I mean -"
Her smoky laugh was sharp enough to interrupt me. "Is my
little fag bitch scared to be alone? Or just jealous that I may
be getting my brains fucked out while you're doing housework?"
I blushed. "You've never left me by myself before."
"Of course I have, love. At the beauty salon, and right
here in this room. You've spent hours all by yourself. Your
chains and ropes are just invisible now." She stroked my long
hair, pulled my head against her belly, rubbed my cheek over her
sleekly covered mons. "Would you like to kiss my pussy goodbye?
Get it nice and moist for the cock that may be in it in a while?"
I nodded. She planted her feet to either side of my head.
I slid the skirt up and exposed her brown-lipped lower mouth.
She rocked up and down on my tongue and nose until my face was
wet with her flow.
As I ate her, I was overcome with desire. She was going
out, going to get herself laid for some mysterious purpose, and I
was preparing her for whoever would part these very lips with a
prick. I wondered how often she'd done this sort of thing
without my knowledge. I wondered how many men had fucked her
eager pussy while I watched stupid football games or stayed late
at the office. I wondered if Ron knew what a slut she was. And,
I wondered who she'd fixed me up with, who'd be fucking my ass or
mouth in a few hours - and why it was so important.
She abruptly jerked her flooded core from my hungry mouth,
ending my lusty reverie. Her voice was low and throaty. "Take
off your blouse, baby. I need to tighten your corset before I
leave."
It was the red one. As she strained against the laces,
compressing my waist to at least twenty-two inches, I was already
visualizing what I'd wear to meet her. How many loads of cum
would her body have absorbed by the time I arrived? A sudden
thought stopped my impassioned planning. "How will I get there?
To the hotel?"
"A cab, of course. I left twenty dollars on the vanity."
Somehow the idea of taking a taxi was more intimidating than
getting dressed to go fuck some stranger. I tried to hide my
nerves, as well as my shameful excitement. Her crooked scarlet
smile told me I failed at both. She tied off my laces, smoothed
her dress to cover as much as it could, and swayed out without
another word. I listened as her metal shod heels clacked over
the floor, silently crossed the carpet, then echoed for a few
strides in the garage. The door ground open. I watched from the
window as she backed down the drive, cigarette dangling between
slick, fat red lips. I saw Jerome Hillyard, our neighbor across
the street, stare open mouthed at the change that'd taken place
in her. Had he done more than stare? Had she fucked him, too?
How many of our neighbors had dipped their wicks in Ellen's hot
hole? A lot of them, I perversely hoped, twisting the engagement
band circling my ring finger.
I fought the urge to dash upstairs and begin getting ready.
It was too soon. And Ellen had made it clear that she expected
all my work to be done before I left the house. I compelled
myself to settle down and do the laundry.
I'd barely fixed my lipstick and gotten started when the
doorbell rang. I froze in the midst of loading the dryer with
damp lingerie. I couldn't answer the door! What if it was
Jerome, or some other acquaintance? I couldn't let anybody see
me like this! I decided to ignore it, pretend I wasn't home.
But whoever was there leaned insistently on the buzzer.
I peeked from the laundry room window, was simultaneously
thrilled and dismayed to see that it was Ron. I was hesitant to
let him in without Ellen there. He'd want to know where she'd
gone, what she was doing. He was liable to fly into a jealous
rage. But he obviously wasn't going to leave.
Checking my face in the mirror, I fluffed my hair a little
and hurried nervously to the door. I wouldn't let him in. I'd
tell him we were busy, that I'd have Ellen call as soon as she
could.
But, the instant I opened the door a crack, he pushed it
wider and stepped past me.
"Ellen's busy," I blurted, hiding behind the door, leaving
it open. "Maybe you should come back -"
"Ellen's gone. I saw the car drive up the block a few
minutes ago." He ambled insolently to the couch and sat down.
"Then what . . ." I began, but my voice failed me. Was he
here to see me?
"Close the door and come over here, bitch. I've been
thinking about that tight asshole of yours all day. I want
another piece of it."
I blushed, both fearful and flattered. I was sure Ellen
wouldn't want him to use me unless she was here to watch. He was
her boyfriend, after all. "I don't think that's a good idea,
Ron." I kept the door cracked.
"Oh, come off it, slut! Don't play hard to get. We both
know that's pure bullshit. You know you want it. You let me
know last night how much you liked it. So get your sleazy ass
over here. Wrap those hot lips around my dick and let me fuck
that sexy face. If you're real good, I may even let you jack off
while I drill your ass."
He was right, of course. I did want it. I had the instant
I saw him through the window. I vividly remembered how grand
it'd been to be filled, stretched, used like I was a real woman.
Honestly, part of his attractiveness was because he was Ellen's
lover. Having the prick that'd been in her so many times rammed
into me made me feel even more weak kneed. It'd be wicked to
fuck him behind her back. But, if I got caught . . .
Wickedness won out. Besides, if I resisted, he'd just take
me anyway. What could I do? Call the police and scream ****?
Run madly from the house? I leaned against the door and flipped
the deadbolt.
He wasn't into small talk or foreplay. As I approached,
both eager and timid, Ron pointed to the floor between his legs.
I sank to my knees, staring at the growing lump hidden by his
shorts. It knew how large it was, what it tasted like. And this
time, I didn't have to share it with anyone. I was alone with my
first man. I was betraying Ellen just like she had me. I was as
big a whore as she was. Saliva began to fill my mouth.
But I wanted information along with his dick. I wanted to
know how large a role he'd played in changing me into the cock
hungry bitch I'd become in less than a week. So, as I reached
out to lightly massage his cock, I licked my lips and tried to
milk him of more than his cum.
"I meant to thank you last night for everything you've done
to help Ellen."
His laugh was brutal. "Jesus. I can't believe you're
really into it this much. How can any man let this happen to him
without a fight?"
I slowly lowered his zipper. "I'm not just any man," I told
his swelling groin. "I've always been a wimp. I think I've
wanted to be like this all my life, but never had the courage to
admit it. I thought you knew that."
"Not until Ellen told me about how much you got off on her
clothes and shit."
My hand reached his flesh. It was so warm, so silky. "I
wish she'd told you sooner. How long did you two plan this?"
He drew a harsh breath as I fished his manhood from his
underwear and loose shorts. It was beautiful. It nestled
against my curved red nails like an eager pet begging to be
stroked.
"Six months or so, I guess. God, you're sexy. Kiss it,
bitch."
I teased the head with my tongue. I wanted the whole thing
buried in my throat, but was enraptured with the power of my
situation. Ellen had made me beg. Ron had, too, the night
before. I wanted to turn the tables. He already wanted me, but
I needed him to crave me, to plead with me.
"Tell me about it. It's so exciting, Ron. I want to hear
everything."
While I tinted his cock flesh with my brilliant lip color,
while I licked his hairy sack, I prompted him to keep talking.
"I knew the look," he groaned. "Guys have been looking at
my dick in the shower, just the way you did, ever since I was a
k**. I knew right off you were a fag, and couldn't figure out
why a gorgeous bitch like Ellen stayed with you. Ooh, shit.
Deeper, baby."
I tried to angle my head, to fit more of him between my
bulging lips. Pink saliva glistened the length of his rod. It
felt like my mouth had been designed to do this. "More," I
gasped. "Tell me more."
"Ahh! That's it!" he groaned as my questing lips took more
meat, stretched to reach for his balls. His hips started to rise
and fall. "Ellen laughed when I told her how you looked at me.
That's when she started watching you closer and caught you
messing around in her shit. I told her I thought you'd make a
hot looking slut. God, was I ever right! Oh, yeah! Suck it,
baby!"
I was thrilled beyond words when my throat seemed to open
and I swallowed him. My smeared lips nestled at the very root of
his prick. I'd done it! I stayed there, immobile but for my
spasming throat and questing lips, until black motes swam before
my eyes and I was compelled to release him and gasp air. I
stared down in astonishment at his glistening eight inches. I
was ready to cum. I resisted the impulse to reach down and touch
myself and rocket into heaven. I wanted this to last. I wanted
to hear more. I was certain I could make him tell me whatever I
wanted.
"You wanted me, too," I purred, lapping the length of his
staff with my tongue. "You've always wanted me to suck your
cock, haven't you?"
"Yeah. I knew you'd be good. Almost every time I fucked
Ellen, I dreamed of you looking like this, doing this. I wanted
to hurry things along. Your bitch of a wife insisted we had to
go slow."
"Umm," I said, taking him half way in then backing off.
"Good things come to those who wait, lover. Am I as good as she
is?"
"Better," he growled, grabbing my hair and jerking my head
down. Now that I knew how, I let him impale every wonderful inch
into me. "She won't let me fuck her ass, and deep throat makes
her puke."
He humped my mouth until I was afraid I was going to pass
out. I had to struggle free. My voice was raw. I felt crazed
by my need for what was happening. But there was still a glimmer
of caginess left in me, as if it was part of my widening lust.
"You can do anything you want to me. I don't care. The dirtier
and nastier, the better. I love being treated like a cheap
whore. Was that your idea, too?"
"Yeah. Nothing turns my crank more than sluts in tight
dresses and wild makeup. The first time I made Ellen dress up
for me, I fucked her for four hours non-stop. I made her cum
until she begged me to quit. She loved it, too. I knew she
would. Anybody who wanted to turn her old man into a fucking
woman had to be really twisted. Turns out she couldn't get
enough after that."
I was pumping him with both hands, letting my mouth writhe
over the top half of his erection. I didn't know how much more I
could take. My sphincter muscles were tightening and loosening
on my butt plug. My ass felt moist, more than ready.
"Did you make her fuck other guys? Did you make her dress
cheap and take her out and show her off?"
He was close to losing control. "We went to parties. It
was her idea. But she never hosed anybody else. I wondered if
maybe she wanted to, but it ever happened. I let her flirt,
dance, make them hot, then I'd take her into a bedroom and fuck
her stupid. We'd go back and party some more and my cum would be
running down her legs." He struggled up in the sofa, tried to
pry me off his cock. "Has she been fucking around? Has she?"
"No!" I insisted, kissing just the head of his hard
treasure. "Of course not! You keep her so well fucked, how
could she?"
"Have you fucked her, slut? Have you poked that little dick
of your inside her pussy?"
I pulled on his cock and backed away from the sofa. "Not
for almost a month - and never again. I eat her whenever she
wants. I can make her cum with my tongue better than I ever
could the other way. Come here, Ron. I'm so fucking hot. My
ass needs you so bad. Fuck me. Please. Fill my hot little ass
with that huge thing. Make me scream. Fuck me hard and mean and
shoot your cum way, way up inside me. Tell me what's going to
happen next, baby."
He stroked himself, staring at me with burning eyes while I
wiggled out of my tight jeans. I'm not even sure he knew he was
speaking.
"She going to do like she said. She's going to get you
tits. Make you get a job as a woman. She says she's got friends
who can help."
I curled my legs up toward my chest, spread my ass cheeks so
he could see me remove my plug. The sensation of having him
watch me readying myself for him was a thrill as intense as
swallowing his entire length had been. He was so big, so strong.
I was weak and small - yet I was in control.
He leapt toward me, rolled me over onto my stomach. "Wait,"
I whispered. "I want this to be good. The best you've ever had,
Ron. I want to make my asshole slick and wet for you. I want to
lube myself with my cum. When you fuck me, it'll be like fucking
myself."
I had him hypnotized. I relished having my ass raised for
him, peeling away my retainer, exposing my purpled, lust heavy
cock and balls. I knew something he didn't. He was as gay as I
was. He wanted me more than he ever wanted Ellen. I could have
made him suck me, as I had him - but a sly part of me knew that
if I did, I'd lose control of him. He'd be too sickened by what
he'd done to ever be nice to me again. He needed to believe he
was the neighborhood's straight, macho, musclebound hunk. So, I
gripped myself, tickled myself with my long painted nails and
teased him yet more. I bent my rod back and imagined it was
sliding up my ass. It only took a few moments. I gasped, with
my inflamed cheek pressed into the carpet, while I pumped sticky
streams toward my back door and rubbed my sperm into my tender
flesh, dipping my fingers into my loosened asshole, pushing as
much cum as I could inside myself.
My voice was hollow with need. "Do it, Ron. Fuck me. Do
it now."
I took him much easier than I had the first time. There was
no pain or chain to distract me. Like my mouth, my ass now
seemed designed for cock. I revelled in the spoils of my
seduction, the depth of his hammering thrusts. I had more power
as a woman than I'd ever had as a man. My body had become a real
tool for pleasure. Cindy had given me my retainer in return for
sexual favors and told me how fantastic I was. The man I'd
sucked at the bar had paid me with a drink and cigarettes in
return for the blowjob of his life. I'd wrapped Ron around my
painted pinky. I was beginning to think I might be able to
manipulate Ellen, if I was careful.
Ron's pummelling was taking its toll on me. My cock had
rehardened. When I angled my hips just right, it felt like he
was fucking the inside of my overgrown clit. Sharp electric
bolts tore through me, and all thoughts were buried beneath the
cascade of sensation. When he howled and filled my guts with his
cream, I jerked and spewed in sympathy. He collapsed atop me,
his mass pinning me to the carpet. Being held and having my neck
kissed between his ragged breaths was almost as rewarding as
being fucked.
"You are one fine lay, cunt," he sighed into my ear. "We'll
have to do this again."
I carefully squeezed my buttocks together, caressing his
still buried dick. "Any time, darling. But right now, I'd
better get up and get back to my housework or Ellen's going to be
really pissed."
"Speaking of the queen cunt, what's she up too?"
"She didn't say," I lied. I was protecting her. Ron was
obviously unaware he wasn't her only source of cock. He may or
may not have been the one to awaken in her a taste for tight
dresses and heavy makeup, but I was ninety-nine percent certain
that today wasn't her first solo foray into the world of bar sex.
The only reason she hadn't gotten laid the night before was
because she needed to watch me get it so badly.
"Maybe it'd be a good idea not to mention that I dropped
by," he said as he raised his hips, freeing his limp meat with a
soft sound that echoed inside me.
I felt empty. My ass clutched around nothingness. Well,
not quite. I felt his cum oozing from my still opened hole.
"Whatever you say, Ron." Another rush made me shiver. It was
almost time to wrap myself in the red outfit, paint my face as
nastily as I knew how, climb in a cab and go to a hotel bar. I
felt hot all over, and eager for Ron to leave.
Luckily, he was ready to go, too. A thought struck me as he
rolled me over for a farewell kiss to my smeared mouth. "Could
you do me a little favor before you go?" I asked him between
tastes of his mouth.
"Sure."
"Help me change shoes. I still can't reach my ankles very
well when I'm in my corset." I smiled inwardly. Would Ellen
wonder how I'd managed this trick? "And, while you're here,
maybe you could tighten my laces a little. They seem to have
worked loose somehow," I giggled.
I didn't complain that he overdid the tightening a little,
reducing my waist to closer to twenty inches, swelling what
little tits I had even more. After he strapped the towering red
heels to my slim ankles, I reached up and kissed him goodbye,
feeling his prick already stirring against my tiny belly. The
fact that I could do that to a man who'd just cum inside me a few
minutes before made me feel very good. I was a foxy little slut.
Everybody who saw me would want me, and I wanted to be desired,
to be lusted after.
So, the instant I locked the door behind my lover, I cleaned
up the cum staining the carpet, but decided to take a risk and
forget about my other tasks, despite the consequences. I had
much more important things to take care of.


CHANGES

My heart was hammering wildly by the time the taxi pulled
into the drive. I'd asked the dispatcher to make sure the driver
didn't honk, but apparently he hadn't gotten the word, because he
did anyway, long and loud. The entire neighborhood was alerted,
no doubt peeking out their windows to see what was going on.
Horrified, I debated what to do. The cabbie again leaned on the
horn. Waiting was only going to make it worse. I bolted from
the front door, praying I wouldn't be recognized for what I was.
My prayer was ignored. Nosy Jerome, across the street, was
plainly visible, again drop-jawed. First he'd witnessed Ellen's
departure, clad in her skintight black minidress and wearing ten
pounds of makeup. Now, some strange woman - me, her lighter twin
- in just as few clothes and just as much makeup. The proverbial
cat was probably out of the bag.
I was mildly surprised by how little I cared. Unless relocation
was in Ellen's plans, the neighbors would no doubt see much more
of me in the future. I was absolutely determined that my two week
vacation would stretch out to encompass the rest of my life. I
settled into the seat and crossed my legs.
The driver was watching me in the mirror. I favored him
with a bright smile. He apparently wasn't used to picking up
women who looked like streetwalkers in such a respectable part of
the city. I knew exactly what my clinging, flame red dress,
shimmering platinum blonde mane, and gaudy makeup made me look
like.
Being outside the house without Ellen was almost s much fun
as fucking without her at my side. I felt free to do whatever I
wanted. I teased the driver to distraction with my legs and
lips, pretending I was ignorant of what I was doing to him. But,
when I leaned forward to ask him for a cigarette, I saw the tent
his erection was making in his pants. I toyed with the idea of
sucking him off rather than paying cash for my fare, but I didn't
find him all that attractive, and I wasn't very horny. Besides,
I was already nearly late and didn't want to risk Ellen's wrath.
As it turned out, it wouldn't have mattered a whole lot. I
was slowed by fear the moment I stepped from the cab. This was a
very busy place. Travelers were leaving and arriving as if this
hotel was the airport itself. My newly discovered confidence was
shaken by the hustle and bustle. I tapped into the bar, feeling
scrutinized by thousands of eyes. It was packed, of course. I
scanned the tables and barstools nervously and found no sign of
Ellen. No tables were vacant, although by the looks I was
getting, I could have joined any number of solo males. I opted
for the view a seat at the bar would give me.
I stood out radically in the somberly dressed mob. The dim
light didn't seem to dull my screaming red dress, and I felt like
my long silver-blonde tresses reflected every bit of available
light. For the first time since Ellen had left, I missed her.
Had she been there at my side, I'd have revelled in the attention
that saturated me. Instead, I felt vulnerable, exposed - and scared.
I spent the last of my twenty dollars on a glass of wine. I
wouldn't have had to, of course. There was very little I'd have
ever had to buy for myself, dressed like that in a hotel bar.
While that notion thrilled me more than a little, it did nothing
to banish my uneasiness. Where was Ellen?
I rebuffed three thinly veiled offers of "a drink or
something," and my rejections earned me a little space.
Apparently, I wasn't the readily available bar girl I appeared,
they must have reasoned. My self-confidence began to return.
But the fourth voice in my ear startled me when the man it
belonged to called me by name.
"You must be Sheila," came the gutturally accented baritone.
I stared for a long, uncomfortable moment. He was tall and
thin, with a mop of unkempt blondish hair. He slouched and his
tie was crooked, making his suit look too expensive for him.
If I'd been able to maintain the mood Ron left me in,
feeling as brazen as my outfit, I'd have smiled provocatively and
come back with something witty. Instead, I blurted, "Where's
Ellen?" acting as insecure as I felt.
His smile was mysterious. At least I was able to identify
his accent as Germanic. "I am Hans. Ellen is upstairs in a
meeting and has asked you to join us." He performed one of those
silly little stiff continental half-bows and offered me his arm.
Upstairs meant a hotel room. My throat tightened and my
clit gave a little lurch. I stood, nervously smoothed my skirt,
and tried to take his elbow like I'd been doing it all my life.
It was a curiously pleasing sensation to be e****ted so formally
back through the bar and lobby toward the elevators. My mind was
spinning. Meeting? What exactly did that mean? It was an odd
term, applied to Ellen the way she'd acted when she left me that
afternoon. The only business she'd acted capable of transacting
was on her back with her legs flung wide.
I was staggered. Literally. Hans gave me a concerned look
as he pushed the call button. I feigned a reassuring smile. Was
that it? Was Ellen selling her cunt? The conversation in the
bar in the mall replayed itself. The one about her cigarettes.
What if, she'd said, she'd been dressing and making herself up
like that and "going out" for six months - about the time she and
Ron had hatched their plot. I'd assumed then that she'd been
trying to hurt me. While I'd sucked Ron's dick, I'd imagined
that there'd been some truth to her hypothetical statement, that
he'd uncovered in her a desire to look and act like a tramp. But
I hadn't imagined she'd actually whore herself. Surely, I'd have
known. Ruefully, I admitted that I hadn't known anything about
my wife until a week ago.
The dinging arrival of the elevator jolted me from my
reverie. In the close confines of the metal box, my e****t
smelled of liquor and tobacco. A quick craving for a cigarette
grabbed me.
Speaking took effort. "Excuse me, Hans. May I have a
cigarette?"
They were imported. He made no comment about the no smoking
sign as he lit it for me. The lighter was an ornate gold thing
that matched the case in which he kept his tobacco. It was harsh
and oddly satisfying. My lipstick was almost invisible against
the dark brown paper.
I kept my voice going. "Uh, what kind of 'meeting' is
this?"
He nodded, frowning slightly, as if confirming something.
"As I thought, she hasn't discussed this with you. Your friend
has been in contact with myself and several of my colleagues for
a number of months." His voice registered deep disapproval.
Ellen had introduced herself as my friend? To discuss what?
Instead of asking those questions, I quickly reassured him. "She
and I are very close. I'm sure she meant this as a surprise."
His expression softened. "In that case, perhaps I have said
too much?"
I squeezed his bicep, gave him a soft smile. "It'll be our
secret."
His thin lips curved upwards and his eyes more or less
politely measured by body. "As you wish. I must say, you seem
quite well adjusted."
I felt myself pale. He knew about the secret between my
legs. I was confused. Should I feel betrayed or flattered? I
took smoke very carefully to cover my embarrassment. The
elevator door opened at the top floor. Again I accepted his arm.
The far wall of the hall was mirrored. I saw an extremely sexy
little blonde woman, clad in fuck-me red, on the arm of a tall
thin man. She was gorgeous, in a brazen way, but her visible
discomfort was spoiling her desirability.
Angry at myself, I hugged my e****t's arm more tightly,
deliberately pressed my thigh to his as we walked down the hall.
He squeezed my arm and smiled. He knew, but he didn't mind being
close to me. Was he the "special friend" I was to meet? Was I
being nice enough to him? And, above all, was he going to fuck
me? If Ellen was whoring herself, was she going to sell my holes
to this man and his "colleagues?" My belly hollowed, not
entirely with fear.
I was anticipating a sordid scene as Hans turned to face a
door and swung it open. My throat was tight. Would the room be
filled with men? Maybe I'd see Ellen on her hands and knees,
sucking one cock while being fucked by another, or . . .
What I was presented with was even more shocking. Ellen sat
at the head of a table with three men. They were examining
papers, not her pussy. Her makeup and hair weren't mussed. I
felt a shameful stab of disappointment. She glanced up from what
she was reading, and the room fell silent as all eyes focused on
me.
They weren't the kind of looks I was growing accustomed to.
They were cold, clinical, examining me more like a side of beef
than a target of lust. I felt like a fool. Ellen had set me up,
led me to believe that I was coming here to get laid - and I'd
eagerly leapt at the chance to open my orifices to whoever wanted
them.
A blast of raw sanity ripped through me. I saw myself as I
was, for the first time in days. I wasn't a woman. I was a
married male with a dark, newly revealed, twisted taste for cock.
I was a sham, a parody, a pathetic joke. My sickness had filled
me. I'd given myself over to it. I'd embraced my depravity,
wanting to believe I'd had no choice. I'd lied to myself all the
way along. If I'd really wanted to, I could have resisted
Ellen's dominance and torture. I'd had more opportunities than I
could count to stubbornly say no, to insist that this charade
end. I hadn't, purely because I'd craved every last moment of
what had happened to me. I'd needed the excuses her coercion
provided.
All this in one of those wordless insights that take up such
a paltry amount of clock time, yet change everything. Ellen was
just beginning to part her lips and introduce me. Her
associates, or whatever they were, had yet to complete their scan
of me. In that mere instant, I'd shed my slutty horniness and
was wallowing in full-blown despair.
A strange numbness kept the scene at a distance. It was
like I was floating somewhere near the ceiling, emotionlessly
observing what was going on below as if it was happening to
someone else. I mechanically took the chair Hans held for me. I
saw my legs cross, felt the casual smile on my lips. Shouldn't I
be crying, I remember wondering, almost idly? I sensed that this
was probably one of the most critical moments of my life and was
astonished by the feeling of peace enveloping me.
They were all European physicians specializing in various
aspects of gender re-assignment. Ellen had sought them out
months before. They were there to assess me. If I passed their
examinations, I was to become a woman.
In my altered state of consciousness, I felt no qualms, no
hesitation. I basked in the glow of Ellen's proud smile. Yes, I
quietly insisted, this is what I wanted, with all my heart. No,
there was no chance I'd regret such a momentous decision. I was
committed. No, I didn't need the traditional year of living in
female guise to be sure. I was ready, right then.
The interview took three gruelling hours. Two of the
doctors had mild reservations, but I swayed the other two, Hans
and a younger Frenchman man named Jordan. I didn't, of course,
leap on an airplane and fly to Denmark to have my cock made into
a cunt, although nothing would have made me happier. There were
arrangements to be made - and finances to be arranged. It was
agreed, though, that I'd receive breast implants in the near
future.
Ellen invited them to stay for drinks. Jordan and Hans
accepted, and Ellen called room service while I stepped into the
suite's bedroom to freshen up. As I touched up my face, I began
to exit the trance-like state I'd been wrapped in, and the
reality of my choice took hold. It wasn't fear that emerged, but
excitement. A shiver rippled through me as I stared at the pale
flesh of my cleavage and the twin swells below. In ten days, my
corset would embrace living flesh, not molded latex. I could
flaunt them with even deeper necklines. Men could suck them,
pinch them, slide their pricks between them.
My sharp, curved nails worked my false nipples and my real
ones stiffened in sympathy. The thrill settled in, became heat.
When the door opened and Ellen slid through, I was still standing
before the mirror, seeing myself as I was to become. In my mind,
I was already a woman, not a cross-dressed fag slut.
She walked up behind me, encircled my waist with her arms,
and hugged me. I settled against her with a sigh, nestled my
head in the cup of her shoulder, feeling the softness of her tit
against my neck.
"You liked my little surprise?" she whispered.
I nodded, nuzzling her tit.
"Would you like to thank Jordan and Hans for their
kindness?"
My belly hollowed. "Do you think they'd like that?"
"That's why they stayed, darling."
"To fuck me?"
"To fuck both of us."
She was right. For the first time, I experienced the
delirious pleasure of giving a blow job while having my ass
filled, and watching Ellen receive identical treatment. The only
thing about the following hours I didn't enjoy was being stripped
of my corset, having my distinctly masculine body made love to by
Jordan. I hid behind my long silver hair, stared at my lovely
hands while he fucked my ass, cursing hoarsely in French.
They left us around three a.m. I fell asl**p in the hotel
room bed, curled in Ellen's arms, after lapping every bit of cum
I could reach from her pussy and ass and mouth. I was more
content than I knew I could be. Three man had enjoyed my body
that day. All of them had known everything there was to know
about me, and lusted after me anyway. As I sank into sl**p, I
dimly realized that for the first time I was completely unashamed
of what I was.
I awoke disoriented. It took a few seconds to realize where
I was. The bed beside me was empty, but the faint sound of the
shower emanating from the bathroom told me where Ellen was. I
stretched, relishing the faint soreness of my ass. I'd been
penetrated there four times, had wildly humped the men riding me,
and felt almost no distracting discomfort. I fingered myself.
My hole was loose and moist. I was ready for more. I rolled to
my feet and padded in to join Ellen in the shower. There wasn't
a cock in the room, so I settled for a pussy, backing my
companion into a corner of the stall, eating her until her knees
went weak and she tried to pull my entire head into her slit.
I felt so beautiful as I dressed and made myself up that I
was almost in tears. I wanted everyone to know. I wanted to be
stared at, desired, seduced. Ellen's mood was much more
reserved, but I barely noticed. I felt free, in an all new way.
I was ecstatically aware, as we made our way back to the car, of
the wide sway of my ass and the bounce of my tits. I was totally
at ease with the way my every move was watched, and easily met
the eyes of those staring at me.
I didn't catch Ellen's anger until we were well on our way
home, and even then she had to slap me with it.
"You're nothing but a fucking tramp," she spat with venom
after I'd favored another driver with a wide red smile.
I was shocked by the depth of her rage. I studied the
floorboard. "I'm sorry. I just feel -"
"Nothing to be sorry about, bitch. You are what you are.
Actually, I'm pleased. It'll make what we have to do a lot
easier if I don't have to f***e you." She didn't sound pleased.
I drew on my cigarette, nervously rubbed at the lipstick on
the filter. "What do we have to do?" I asked very quietly.
Her laugh was a harsh bark. "We have to make a lot of money
for your surgery."
I stared blankly at her for a moment, then looked out the window.
I didn't want her to see my smile. There weren't many ways to raise
the three thousand dollars we needed in ten days. I was going to be
a very busy girl for a while. The only question in my mind was if she
was going to whore herself on bar stools beside me. I hoped so. I
really liked sharing with her.

END

... Continue»
Posted by klammer 10 months ago  |  Categories: Anal, BDSM, Shemales  |  Views: 10543  |  
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Chastity Belt Roulette



Chastity Belt Roulette
Chapter One

In a small town in New Jersey a small group of husbands and
wives meets each weekend for a very special evening. The purpose of
the evening is for the husbands to provide total, complete and
absolute service to the wives in any manner they see fit, while the
husbands compete for a chance at Chastity Belt Roulette. You see, each
husband is locked into a very secure and non-removable chastity belt,
which can only be unlocked with the proper key. Only two keys exist in
the world: One carefully locked away in a secret safe deposit box, and
the other safely hidden and out the reach of the husbands. Perhaps I
should digress and explain this novel approach to ensure husband
fidelity and servitude.

Six months ago I committed a cardinal sin; I cheated on my
wife. It was my first and last time, but in a moment of male weakness
I allowed myself to be tempted for simple sexual pleasure. Now I
cannot achieve an erection let alone even touch myself without first
earning the right to compete in Chastity Belt Roulette. But I am
getting ahead of myself. Like a lot of weak males I could not live
with the guilt and hoped for forgiveness from my wife. I was surprised
to learn she knew I had cheated and had kept it to herself.

When I finally told her she let out her pent up anger, but
over time our relationship seemed to improve. I was cut off from sex
during this time of course.

Then one day she sat down and laid out an ultimatum for me.

It seems she had discussed my transgression with her some of
her closest friends. One of her friends had a similar experience with
her husband. As it turned out, that friend had already joined a group
of women, who all had husbands who cheated. Each wanted the same
thing, an alternative to divorce but one that would guarantee he would
never cheat again. Even more important, to ensure he would be more
attentive to her needs, become dependent on her and look to her and
only her for sexual pleasure.

After searching for the answer, they found it. Reading up on
the strict discipline and observance of chastity by Middle East women,
they discovered that indeed a highly secure and totally effective
chastity belt was indeed made for males. In fact, since males could
cleanse more easily, the male belt could be left on indefinitely if
desired.

As the plan began to gel, the group thinned out, leaving only
those woman with husbands who would do anything not to be divorced. My
wife Gloria became interested in talking with the group.

As she learned more, she began to see a wonderful new life
taking shape for us.

I was the macho male in bed, proud of my sexual feats. Yet, my
wife always wanted to take charge. Unfortunately, my male ego wouldn't
let her, at least not very often. I earned a very comfortable living
as a prominent defense attorney, specializing in sexual harassment, my
wife was an executive at a corporation and also earned a very
comfortable salary. Our life was very simple, a beautiful home, maid,
cook, cars and great vacations. Why would I want to leave this?

On the day she approached me with the proposition, it was all
laid out for me. It was rehearsed very well.

She had hired the finest divorce lawyer available. She said
she had photographic proof of my infidelity. Furthermore, if I did not
agree to her terms, not only would she get everything, but she would
ruin my business. I was somewhat skeptical she could really ruin my
business, but I would soon learn she had the capability in hand. I sat
and listened in total disbelief. I was totally convinced she meant
every word. But what were her terms she kept alluding to?

Only after signing a confession of infidelity and agreeing to
her terms did she reveal them. They were actually simple and seemed
rather silly. All I had to do was to wear a chastity belt and attend a
party with her once a week, where I and other men, in the same
situation, would serve and obey completely anything the wives
demanded. I sat there, wondering what the catch was. A stupid chastity
belt I would take off the moment I left home and serving women did not
seem all that bad. That might be fun. All of a sudden she barked out a
command.

She told me to undress completely and take a hot shower.

While showering, she suddenly opened the curtain. She herself
was now nude. It didn't take long for my cock to snap to attention as
I hadn't had any for quite awhile now and my right hand just didn't
quite feel the same as a nice warm, wet pussy. She turned off the
water and told me that she wanted to shave all my hair from the neck
down. She had always wanted to feel me with smooth soft skin. It
sounded kinky, so what the heck. As her hands held my swollen cock she
carefully shaved my pubic hair. I admit it felt and looked rather
funny.

Next she shaved my underarms, something I really did not like.

Finally she applied a depilatory over my legs and I watched as
the hair seemed to melt away.

We turned the water back on as she hugged me, letting my cock
feel her warm body. It slid under her pussy as she pressed against my
body. I tried to angle it in, but she kept it pressed against her,
sliding between her lips. Slowly at first, then faster. I knew she
would soon be asking me to slip it in. I let her get closer and closer
and suddenly she shook, then she screamed as she pressed hard against
my aching swollen cock. I whispered, "Now I'll let you cum with a hard
cock inside you. "

As she stepped out, with a smile on her face, she quickly
turned on the cold water. It hit like a ton of bricks. In an instant
my erection was limp.

I came out of the shower screaming at her. She had already
start putting on a robe. It was her look that made me stop. It was
cold, sincere and she obviously controlled the situation. I grabbed a
towel to dry myself as she went to her closet and returned with a box.

I was curious and came over as she removed a very no nonsense
looking harness of some kind. "What the hell is that?" "It's your
chastity belt dummy." "I can't wear that, besides, I thought we were
just getting started." "You're right, we are just getting started.
That was your first lesson. You're here to please me. If I decide and
when I decide, you may be rewarded. Remember, you just signed your
life away and it's locked up now."

At the moment I wasn't sure what proof she had and I didn't
want to take chances just yet. There was time for that later. For now
I'd just go along with this game. Besides the quicker I accommodated
her the quicker this would be over, or so I thought.

First came a stainless steel band, covered with rubber that
fit tightly around my waist. It did not have any room to slide at all.
It fastened with a lock which I had never seen before.

Then she slid this rubber coated steel sheath over my limp
cock and locked it to another formidable steel piece that attached to
the belt around my waist. Two steel chains were attached to the back
of the belt. These ran between my legs and were attached to the piece
holding sheath.

Finally she locked the piece, which secured the penis sheath,
to the front of the belt with an equally secure lock. She took the key
and left the room, with me pondering just what the hell did I get
myself into.

When she returned, she smiled.

"The key to the chastity belt is now locked up along with the
confession. They are locked in a safe you aren't aware of and by
tomorrow will be safely in my attorney's hands. In case you're are
wondering, how long you will wear the chastity belt, I will tell you.
You will be wearing it long after all your pubic hair grows back. I've
been told that it is a lot of fun. Each itch should remind you of your
position in life from now on. I own your cock, I own your total and
complete attention, and I own your life. If you try to remove the
chastity belt f***efully, you will probably end up in the hospital.
I've been told no one has successfully removed it by f***e and those
who did, hurt themselves trying. I will also throw away the keys and
tell my attorney to execute my divorce papers with your signed
confession. You will continue to wear it until I feel you are ready to
attend a little party. When you show me complete obedience, we will
discuss our next phase."

My anger broke through. This is totally ridiculous and I"
demand you take this belt off me. I don't give a fuck what evidence
you have of my infidelity. Who cares. If you want a divorce, you got
it. There is nothing you can do harm my business."

With that she turned to the television and proceeded to play a
video tape. There were scenes of my fooling around with one of my
clients who just won a large law suite for sexual harassment. Then
there were some scenes of us in bed and finally a replay of my wife
putting on the chastity belt.

"This is for starters. I would think a little newspaper expose
of a prominent attorney screwing one of his clients and his wife
putting a chastity belt on him, might cause the Bar Association to ask
a few embarrassing questions."

* * *

The next six months were the worst nightmare I had
experienced. It started with the pubic hair growing back. I could not
even scratch myself. Each move drove me up the wall. I invented
reasons to take showers, directly the water at the chastity belt. But,
adding insult to injury I had to shave my underarms each week and keep
my legs hairless.

As I became accustomed to the belt and the pubic hair finally
grew back, it started to become a ritual to shave myself.

Finally, my wife allowed me to grow my leg hair if I agreed to
have it waxed off. The chance to not have to shave my legs once a week
seemed a small price for the pain of waxing.

Even my toilet habits were changed. I did everything like a
women as my cock was permanently pointed down between my legs. Gloria
appreciated never having to put the seat down.

At first my duties were simple. Preparing her bath, helping
her dress (my favorite), and fetching drinks or snacks, usually at
night. Then it expanded to washing her lingerie or anything the maid
didn't do. With the maid and cook around, it was becoming somewhat
awkward.

About that time, and unknown to me, my wife had a talk with
our maid and cook. The two women were told of my predicament. Just to
make sure they found it acceptable, she also gave them both a raise
and explained that on their day off, I was to straighten both their
rooms and clean their bathrooms. This included any laundry they might
have. This they accepted quite eagerly, as I had always been a bastard
to both of them.

Shortly after that, my wife started to allow me to touch her
body. At first all I was allowed was to suck her toes and kiss her
feet. Then I could suck her tits. Finally she rewarded me with the
scent of her pussy again in my nose. She carefully instructed me how
to separate her lips with my tongue and slowly pressing it against her
clitoris, then letting it probe her hole.

I spent hours bringing her to climax after climax, hoping she
would lose control and let my cock loose. My cock was in pain, it
tried to get erect only to feel the tight boundaries of it confines.
It would ooze cum. My wife would giggle as I "dripped" cum, just like
a women with cum inside her.

"Now you know how it feels."

I begged her to release me. I promised eternal faithfulness. I
would never even look at another women. I would live to please her.

Each night we would repeat our ritual. Some nights she would
be horny and I would have to spend hours satisfying her. I never knew
she could go on for so long. Sometimes she would get behind me while I
was on all fours and kind of press against me. It was strange because
she couldn't get off on it and neither could I. On other nights she
might awake in the middle of the night and whisper for me to service
her. She would lazily spread her legs and reach a small shuddering
climax and just drift off to sl**p with a smile on her pert lips.

* * *

One day she came home and announced we were going on vacation.
A small mountain retreat. Strange that she always hated rustic type
places. I packed all her things carefully, as she instructed. I
smelled her lingerie as I neatly folded those wonderful
unmentionables.

As I started to grab my suitcase, she said I would not need
very much and she had already arranged for my stuff.

"But, my winter clothes are still in the closet." "I said I
have taken care of everything!"

I was concerned and didn't like departing without my clothes.

We drove into the mountains and finally arrived at a rustic
house deep in the woods. Startled, I saw smoke coming from the
chimney.

"Oh, they are here already." "Who?" I said." Just two women I
met awhile ago," she answered.

"But, I thought this was for just us two. I thought I had
satisfied you all these months as to my true feelings towards you."

"Well, you thought wrong. Bring in the suitcases."

As I dragged in the last of her suitcases, I began to worry,
just what was I going to wear with two other women around. This did
not seem like I thought it would be. Did they know about my chastity
belt? Besides, I had arranged for my associate to handle my case for
three weeks.

Finally, I came into the den where my wife and the two other
women were talking and laughing. They turned to me and said,

"Welcome. Your wife tells me you're completely used to the
chastity belt."

My mouth hung open.

:We have no secrets here. We both know everything about you.
Let's see, you're are completely shaven or should I say waxed. You
hate doing underarms, but we all do. And the last time you had an
orgasm was, let's see, six months ago." "No, your wife came in the
shower, but you took a cold shower." "Oh yes, you were screwing
another women. I hope that it was worth it." "Let's see, orgasm lasts
six seconds, and abstinence for over six months. A good start. Maybe
if you're a quick learner, you might cum for Christmas." They all
giggled.

"We have a few simple rules here.

1. You will always obey all orders given by one
of us.

2. Your wife has absolute authority over you.

3. You will never sexually touch another women.

"Enough for rules. Remember them. If you violate any of them,
you and your wife must leave here and she can do whatever she desires
with you. As I understand it, you stand to lose a lot.

"Now, upstairs to the right is your bedroom. You will sl**p in
your bedroom or with your wife depending on what she desires. I hear
you are quite good with your tongue."

I couldn't believe she knew that. Gloria had never spoken to
anyone about our sexual life. I had to ask, "I don't get this. Who
are you? Why would my wife tell you about our sexual life or for that
matter about our agreement."

"I don't recall giving you permission to question us. But I
understand your concern. This is all new to you." She proceeded to
tell me about the group of woman who formed to discuss methods of
controlling the sexual lives of their husbands and how it expanded to
include dominating and making them serve their wives as dutiful
husbands should. "We have found that by merely controlling their
cocks, we controlled the whole person. How wonderful. We eventually
found that we could enjoy our husbands as sexual toys. We did not have
to cater to them, we did not have to get them "hard", in fact we could
snap our fingers and have a warm tongue soothing the days problems
away. Oh yes, a "hard" cock does have some advantage and occasionally
we could indulge ourselves. A carefully trained cock could be a
wonderful source of pleasure and the ultimate reward for a husband is
just an orgasm away. Think how simple. A few short strokes for a
deserving husband and they're happy. Of course, each time we allow
such a reward, we must hold some penalty over their heads to ensure
they put their chastity belts back on. We have found very convincing
reasons for you to jump into your belt again. Now, upstairs and you
will find your clothes laid out on the bed. If you need help, just
come down here and we'll be glad to help you."

I was totally shaken. This is definitely deeper than I planned
on getting. As I turned into my room, I was taken back. It was simple.
A large bed, dresser, and a closet. What really caught my eye was the
outfit lying on the bed. A real corset, stockings, old fashioned
bloomers, a cotton camisole, several lacy petticoats, and a old
fashioned dress.

At the foot of the bed were high heel shoes. I stormed out of
the room and declared, "What the hell is this? I am not wearing that
stuff. Forget it."

They looked up totally nonchalant and Gloria held a key that
was attached to her necklace and said, "I guess the party is over. I'm
sorry, I thought he would understand better than he did." "Gloria, my
dear, they all react this way. We found that the shock value of
realizing their position was a better approach than doing it slowly.
As for you, I assume you realize that without your wife, you have
nothing. Oh yes. Your wife will always own your cock or you will own
nothing. Your choice. And I am sorry, I forgot to put out your bra.
It's still in the top drawer. I would take a careful look in the top
drawer before you say anything else."

I was speechless. I could simply give up everything, get the
chastity belt sawed off somehow and start all over. I opened the
drawer and found some pictures. They were of me in my chastity belt,
shaving my legs and underarms and one of me having my legs waxed. Then
there were some that weren't right. Someone doctored pictures of me. I
was on all fours with Gloria behind me wearing what looked like this
large cock. She never did that. There were some with me even smiling
back at her.

This was blackmail. I would have to move clear out of the
state and start a new business. O.K. just relax. How bad is this? The
girls will have their kicks, and in three weeks I'll be back home.
Maybe, by then the belt might come off. Mental orgasms aren't that
bad. Just think. It really isn't bad eating pussy every night and all
I'm really doing is some petty crap. Let's stick this out and show
them I can take it.

Chapter Two

Shit, look at that bra. It must be a 40 DD. It has fake tits
in it. And the corset, damn, it looks small and serious, not like the
sexy ones I got for Gloria. O.K. I don't have much choice for now. I
better get dressed.

After taking off my clothes, I was shivering trying to fasten
the corset. I couldn't even fasten the hooks and eyes and lacing it up
the back was impossible. Damn. I'll go down stairs and pretend it's
nothing and ask for help.

The girls didn't even look up as I came down with the corset
hanging from me.

"Oh, I see you need some help. Dear, a lesson is in order.
First it's a lot easier to put on your stockings first, bending with
the corset on is difficult. No matter, turn around. First fasten the
top hook. Now do the bottom. Now start moving up. Good. Now reach
behind and pull these laces first. Tighter. Now cross the two long
loops and pull hard. Harder. Men, are such wimps. Now pull these from
the bottom up again and pull it again. Keep pulling until the corset
seam is closed. Deary, you have a 34 inch waist, this is only a 30
inch corset.

"When you are fully trained your waist will be 26, to match
your wife's. In fact our goal is for your figure, with some help, to
be the same as your wife's. You have to diet and exercise more. Here
let me show you."

With one pull the seams closed and my breath was squeezed out
of me.

"Much better. Now run along and quickly dress. We are hungry
for dinner."

She was right about the stockings, I practically bruised my
ribs pulling them up. I felt totally absurd putting on the huge bra
and fake tits. They were actually heavy and really pulled on my back.
The rest of the clothes were easy. I somehow felt more comfortable
pulling up the bloomers which came down below my knees and with the
camisole over my bra. I'm not sure if being warmer was part of it, but
I at least felt dressed and not naked in front of the women. Suddenly,
I felt I needed to think of them as women not girls. As if they
demanded some more respect.

Everything was fine until I put the shoes on. I figured they
would be much too small and I could just tell them they really didn't
fit. But, much to my chagrin, they fit. Then I tried walking for the
first time in high heels. It felt like I was walking down hill and I
kept wobbling. I tried walking with smaller steps, but nothing helped.
They really hurt my feet and made me feel funny. It's like the clothes
didn't count anymore, but the shoes made me walk like a woman. And
they make a loud clack each time I took a step on the wood floor. It
was embarrassing.

I mustered all my courage and walked as quietly as I could and
went down stairs. Gloria had this smile from ear to ear. I turned beet
red.

"You will address us as Ms. K. and Ms. M. We do not believe in
sharing husbands, we do not get off dominating someone else's husband.
We are here to assist your wife. What she does with you is her
business. We've all discussed the most intimate parts of our lives. So
we have no problem discussing how and what she may do with you to
train you for our special parties. If she is successful, you will
learn all about Chastity Belt Roulette."

"Excuse me, Ms. K?" "Very good." Just what is Chastity Belt
Roulette?" "It's just a game we play each week. We will have plenty of
time to discuss it later. Now, off to the kitchen and prepare dinner.
The menu is on the table and I understand you make an excellent roast
chicken. Roast chicken now! It will takes several hours. We have time.
Call when it's ready."

Between the dress getting in the way, gigantic tits blocking
my vision whenever I looked down, my ribs aching to be free and my
feet killing me, things could not have been worse, except I swear my
back hurt from hauling around these tits. At least I can take off the
heels. No one is here and Gloria always takes them off when she gets
home. God, it really must feel good when I suck her toes after being
cramped in heels all day.

No sooner did I removed the heels than Ms. M. came in and
said that I didn't have permission to take off the shoes.

"I just thought it would be all right and how did you know I
took them off?" "It isn't too difficult when all we hear is you
clacking about in here and suddenly it stops." "May I at least bring a
chair in here to sit while I wait." "Why do you think we removed the
chair." "How much longer before the dinner is ready?" "About one hour
and fifteen minutes." "Come in with me to the den then."

"Michael," (the first time my name was used and it sounded
funny), "Gloria, Ms. M. and I were discussing you and it's time we
explain why you are dressed this way. Contrary to every thought you
had, you are not cross dressed for our pleasure. Personally, seeing
you this way is rather amusing, but definitely not a turn on for Ms. M
or me. Maybe Gloria feels differently, but that's not important to you
now. The main intention for this is to acquaint you with the how it
feels, in a dramatic way, to be a woman. On display, in clothes that
may not be functional or comfortable.

"Gloria may or may not dress you up in the future, that's up
to her. We found that it serves to put you in your place, like shock
treatment in some sense. You look totally ridiculous. Your breasts are
- well - rather large, your dress is feminine and cumbersome with all
the petticoats and from the neck up you're a male. We purposely didn't
give you a wig or makeup. You're just plain absurd looking. We want
you to feel comfortable obeying any command your wife may give.

"Rest assured, she will not command anything that would harm
you or any one else. We have a strict code of safety and guidelines to
follow. She will never ask or expects you to approach, talk to, touch
or in any many make sexual overtures to another woman. This is our
basic guideline. You belong to her and she will not share you with
anyone. If you can accept that, there are benefits to this life.

"One more thing. I know you are thinking that some day Gloria
will want intercourse and maybe she will. But, before you think it is
sooner than later, consider her options."

Ms. K. opened a suitcase lying on the couch. In it were
several flesh colored and very realistic dildos.

"Gloria, a long time ago, agreed to try the training program
we developed. The dildos are based on a new polymer my husband's
company invented. It's being developed for patients who are impotent.
Unlike the dildos you've seen before, this is different. It responds
to the touch. It feels warm to the touch, it is soft and becomes
harder as it is stroked and most importantly, it feels identical to
the real thing. We invented it to supplant our husbands who are
practicing abstinence - shall we say. In spite of this, we found some
woman still have difficulty with a plastic cock. They feel it's
unnatural. Through hypnosis, we have been able to get your wife to
enjoy her toys to the same extent and even more than any man could
hope to give her. We still had one problem.

"Although it's nice to masturbate, or as we call it
intercourse in absentia, it's still a do-it-yourself proposition. In
those cases when your wife, would like you to do all the work, we have
this."

She lifted what looked like a dildo attached to a strange pair
of briefs.

"These fit like a second skin over your chastity belt. In case
you haven't noticed, cuddling up to you with that belt on can be
uncomfortable. This fits over the belt and provides a smooth, soft
covering for the belt. The dildo which is attached is a special
design. Gloria, if you will do the honors."

Gloria, took the dildo and started to give it a blow job. I
then noticed it had balls attached which swung like the real thing.
Then I realized it was expanding and getting longer. Suddenly, I
could feel my cock trying to harden. That could be my cock I thought.

It was really big now and the tip was expanding. Gloria, was
half smiling and half sucking. She was squeezing the balls and
stroking it, when the balls suddenly seemed to tighten and pulse.
Gloria, removed the cock from her mouth as what looked like cum
spurted from the tip of the cock. The damn thing came. My mouth
dropped open.

"Don't worry, it's artificial cum. In fact it comes is several
flavors."

Gloria, Ms. K and Ms. M just broke apart laughing.

"Maybe you would like to try someday. We even have cum
flavored cum. I got my husband to try it one day. I told him I hadn't
loaded it, he got a hell of a surprise. So now you know why Gloria has
been so content without you. Gloria can keep you in the chastity belt
for a long, long time and when she is certain that you can be trusted
to put it back on, then and only then will she consider letting you
please her with your cock.

"Now, we haven't forgotten about you totally. We realize that
we have to provide some outlet for your sexual needs. Gloria has been
instructed in the use of some special things just for you, as a
reward. Judging by my husband's reaction to it, it must me pretty
good. `In fact,' he said, `it makes it last so much longer,' and,
since he doesn't have to concentrate on my needs first, he prefers it
over regular intercourse, on the rare occasions I have allowed him
that treat. Gloria and you will learn the best techniques that work
for both of you."

"May I ask about this Chastity Belt Roulette?"

"You are learning nicely Michael. Respect for all woman, it's
important. We still have half an hour before dinner. We have some
time. Very well. Each week, as I said, we have a special party. We
have fifteen members of our organization. Carefully screened wives and
husbands who meet certain requirements."

She went on the explain about how the group was formed and how
they all had husbands in similar situations.

"During the evening the husbands cater to all the wives. They
are responsible for the food, drinks, everything your wife used to
worry about and take care of. We all discuss the week's events and
especially we enjoy talking openly about our sex lives. For women who
never talked about it before, we make it a point to discuss the most
intimate details. How someone found a new position to masturbate, or
how someone did it in her office without anyone seeing her. Some women
enjoy trying to get their husbands sexually turned on and let them
suffer or get them to give oral sex in unusual places. Ms. M. actually
got her husband so convinced he could have real intercourse if he
would greet her at the door dressed in a satin teddy and carry her to
their couch. He had to suck each toe through her pantyhose, remove her
hose and panties and give her oral sex. Sounds great, and she knew he
always wanted to have sex as soon as she came home and he got annoyed
that she wanted to freshen up first.

"Well, when he put his head up her skirt and smelled her
feminine odor after a full day of work and a hot train ride home, he
pulled back. He now appreciates why she wanted to freshen up. But, it
now seems she enjoys a before dinner orgasm, a prepared bath, dinner
and evening of leisure. Oh, how I tend to rattle on about such things.
Usually the men get so quiet when we talk about them. Oh yes, Chastity
Belt Roulette.

"First, each player has had to have worn his chastity belt for
no less than six months consecutively. The women, after discussing the
events of the week, vote for the husband who they feel best served his
wife. The lucky husband is selected by a majority. If we can't get a
majority we make up things for them to do, or invent games to win
points.

"Last month, we tried a new game. Each couple took a different
room and the first husband to bring his wife to orgasm won. The only
thing was that each wife inserted a tampon first and the husband had
to remove it with his mouth and then keep it his mouth while he
serviced his wife. It was like trying to whistle after eating
crackers. Two husbands were really surprised to find their wives were
having their period. One of them actually finished first and we let
him play roulette. The other one, I guess he's been in his belt over a
year now.

"Once we have a contestant, we bring out the roulette wheel.
The wheel has prizes instead of numbers. There are ten prizes. Eight
are real and two are the booby prizes. So your chances are good to win
a prize. Four of the eight prizes are the numbers 2 (the most sought
after prize), 4, 6, and 8. They represent the number of weeks until
your wife must take off your chastity belt and allow you intercourse
or oral sex. It's your choice. You can see why the men enjoy the game.

"The other four prizes vary from week to week. Usually it's a
- well special blow job. Gloria will tell or rather I think show you
that. Or a day off from all your duties. The right to say no once.
Maybe, permitting you five minutes alone without your chastity belt in
the bathroom. The men always come out smiling. There have been so many
I lose track. But I guarantee they are all nice prizes for someone who
hasn't had any lately.

"What are the booby prizes? With all good things a little rain
must fall. They change from week to week. A typical one is to suck off
your wife's dildo and hope she used the chocolate flavored cum. A
recent addition is to take an enema with a special nozzle, so you
can't expel it, then you and your wife go off to a bedroom. You can't
expel the enema until your wife comes. Some wives can really hold
back.

"Some of the woman enjoy oral sex during their period and if
it's their husband who is playing, they will put that one the wheel.
Usually the wife can select one special booby prize she knows the
husband hates. My husband John simply hates it when I have him wear
pantyhose. So I use that one. A recent addition is an entire day
without bathroom privileges. Since no one can hold it back, especially
when someone slipped a diuretic into your drink, you'll have to wear
diapers. It isn't too bad until they have to defecate. They hate
cleaning the mess, especially with the chastity belt.

"Enough of this, it's time for dinner."

I served dinner and was surprised to be invited to sit with
the ladies after everyone was served. We discussed my new life and
how, if I looked upon it in the right light, it really was a pretty
good deal compared to what I stood to lose. I still had all my
luxuries and I could enjoy them. The only thing I gave up was control
of my cock. It was now my wife's property. Except for occasional
punishments, it wasn't all that bad. Which made the rewards and real
sex all the more exciting. I kept wondering, what was this special
blow job Ms. K. spoke about.

After cleaning the dishes, I prepared a bath for Gloria.

After she bathed, I was allowed to remove my day clothes and
slip into a delightfully soft cotton, Victorian nightgown. Compared to
the corset and heels, it was heaven. I even got to remove my breasts.
What a relief. I served the women drinks as we chatted around the
fireplace. Ms. K. said that I obviously was well prepared for this
and felt my next three weeks would run smoothly.

Ms. K. then proceeded to explain why they were here. Gloria
needed help training me and they all needed to be certain I was
controllable. Also, they believed in a very open sex life. They
relished discussing it among themselves, something women seldom did
before. They adhered to a strict code. Although they might indulge in
sex in each others presence, it wasn't overtly open to viewing. They
generally wore long loose skirts or covered themselves with a sheet or
blanket if a husband was servicing them. Orgasm was openly invited and
accepted as normal. It wasn't unusual for all of the woman to sit and
watch a video while their husbands provided orgasm after orgasm. But
always under a cover.

While orgasm was considered natural, displaying their bodies
was not. They were proper in that way. The men on the other hand were
on display at all times. They were exposed if the wife wanted it. But
since the chastity belt covered just about everything but the ass,
there wasn't much to see.

Only the husband and wife could come in sexual contact. Even
two wives would not share one husband. They believed in total
faithfulness and anything less was against everything they stood for.

With that, Ms. K and Ms. M retired for the evening. Gloria
told me to clean up the kitchen and come upstairs to her bedroom.

As I entered her room, she told me to put on the dildo briefs
and climb into bed. She lay back and I knew she wanted me to eat her.
It felt strange having a cock dangle beneath me again. Gloria reached
several rather loud orgasms. I felt funny, knowing the other woman
could hear so easily.

Then Gloria whispered in my ear, she wanted me to enter her.

I almost forgot, it wasn't my cock doing the entering, as I
brought her legs up. It felt strange, I felt I needed to come. My own
cock strained at its harness. I whispered to Gloria, "Please, let me
cum." There was no answer. I directed the dildo to her opening. She
spread her lips. But the cock my still soft. "It's not hard," I said.
"Well make it hard." "You want me to masturbate a dildo?"

I felt like a fool, jerking off this dildo. As I stroked it,
it started to respond. It was almost scary, it I was like jerking off
someone else's cock. Something else started to happen. The entire tip
started to secrete a lubrication. My hand was slippery as it expanded
and lengthened to its fullest. I could not believe its length. This
was bigger than mine. I felt totally betrayed. My wife wanted me to
fuck her with a dildo bigger than my own cock.

My attention to the dildo was snapped back to Gloria when she
said, "Hurry up." I bent over her and guided it in. I thought for an
instant to drive it in fast, to hurt her.

But before the idea passed, she said, "Slow, very slow. I want
to feel only the tip moving in and out. Good, now a little deeper.
More, Yes, that's it. Deeper. Now all the way in and out. Good. Keep
going. She was telling me every step. All the way, slowly. Now hold
it there. Now, massage my clit, softly, like I showed you. That's it.
Faster. Now fuck me faster. More. Keep going. Yes, Yes. Uhhhhh. Yes.
Faster. All the way in and out. Keep going. Don't stop. I'm cumming."

She screamed like I had never heard her. I stopped for an
instant thinking I'd hurt her.

"Don't stop," she screamed at me.

Her body was arched off the bed as wave after wave of orgasm
struck. My back ached as she demanded more. I was at the breaking
point when she said to stop. I lay there exhausted for an instant.
Then she said, "Lick my pussy, I feel sticky." I didn't say anything
as this wasn't the time. I crept between her legs and smelled that
wonderful pussy juice. I licked her thighs and pussy, like a cat.

She rolled over and said, "Now my ass."

I hesitated. I couldn't. She waited a moment and said, "Well!"

"Gloria, anything, but that." "Honey, I promise you I'm clean.
Either you service me, or this whole thing is over now."

I held my anger back and proceeded to gingerly tongue her ass.
I had licked almost the entire ass when she said to do her opening. It
was still sticky. I licked and even tongued the opening. She just went
mmmmmmmmmmmm and said, "Now get me a warm wash cloth and wash and dry
me where you licked."

I got up only to realize my cock, uhhh, dildo was still hard
and my real cock was aching unbelievably.

"Honey, can't I at least relieve myself. I did everything you
asked." "Just get the wash cloth."

I got the wash cloth and washed and dried her body. In the
process she said that I should do something about my cock. "Thank God.
Where is the key," I said. "Not that cock. My dildo cock. The one that
is hard, stupid. Come on masturbate it for me." I continued to control
myself. I pumped it as fast as I could, but it didn't come. She
started to giggle. Coyly, she said, "Michael, it doesn't come unless
you squeeze the balls. Here, hold it up like this and let me show
you."

She reached between my legs and with one squeeze it came.
Straight into my face. She broke out laughing hysterically. I swear I
could hear the other women giggle.

"I should have warned you first I guess. My poor little
husband. Come here. Now sit down. Let me wipe some of this nasty cum
off your face." She took her finger and scooped up some from my face.
H"ere, lick my finger. It's cherry today. "Her attitude had changed
and I felt maybe she was finally softening. I took her finger in my
mouth and sucked it off. It was salty and smelled like cum. As I
paused, knowing she knew what I discovered, she said, "I just wanted
you to know what it tasted like. Michael, you have been so good
today. Although I was going to wait until tomorrow, I will surprise
you with it tonight. Remember the special blow job. Well, if you will
climb into bed and get on all fours, I'll get it ready."

This I had to see. Could she be ready to remove the belt I
wondered. All this service may have been worth it. I waited. No
peeking she said. I heard something being moved and a hose being
dragged. Then a soft humming.

"What is it?" I asked. "Just wait. Now hold still." She was
attaching something to the end of the sheath holding my cock. It felt
cold then wet. N"ow hold still." "What was that?" I asked. "Just some
lubricant. "

Then she took whatever was on the end of the sheath off and
put something else on. Finally she said, "Now we are ready. I started
it real slow. You will feel a pulling and pushing. Just relax. I'm
told it's really mind blowing, but you have to grow used to it. She
flipped some switch as I peeked around my ass which was still stuck up
in the air. Something started to pull my cock down its sheath. Almost
to the point of uncomfortable.

Then it stopped.

Then it was pushed back in. It felt like it was stuck in a
tube being sucked one way then the other.

"Gloria, is this it? But Gloria, I can't get hard."

"Michael, just relax. Here, put these pillows under your
stomach and relax."

I felt the sensation increase in strength and speed. I was
starting to feel like I wanted to cum. My balls ached. Pulling and
pushing. I was attached to a vacuum cleaner. Was this the special blow
job. "Gloria, I need to cum. Please." The cum was starting to be
sucked right out of me. I was half cumming. Almost at the edge, but
unable to cum. I tried to cum. But it wouldn't happen.

Then I felt Gloria place her hand on my ass and finger my ass
hole. When she found the opening I said, "Gloria," and started to
turn. "Michael. Stay right as you are. Just relax." Her finger stopped
at the opening. It kept probing, but my asshole remained shut. "Please
let me cum." My balls ached and my cum continued to be sucked from me.
My cock was being sucked back and forth inside the sheath, trying to
expand.

Suddenly, Gloria's finger entered me. It was so sudden, I
didn't have time to stop it. I was going crazy from the sucking and
her finger. I had to cum. Somehow. Gloria, went deeper. It was
strange, I felt I needed to shit. My mind was racing. This had to stop
and I needed to cum. My mind wondered from the agony and ecstasy of my
cock being suck and restrained.

Then she pushed real deep. I shuddered, lost in the
sensations. She touched something deep inside my ass. It felt like I
reached an orgasm. I felt cum gushing through my cock being sucked
from me. It was incredible. My balls ached and the sucking started to
really hurt. Gloria switched off the machine and everything came to a
stop. I collapsed, totally exhausted. I was half crying from relief.
Relief from the long prolonged orgasm, the pain, and the intrusion in
my asshole. As I rolled over in tears, I saw three faces. Gloria, Ms.
M. and Ms. K. I could not believe they had witnessed this. I wanted to
crawl into a hole and die. I was angry beyond belief.

"Don't be angry," Gloria said. I couldn't believe her.
"Gloria," Ms. K. proceeded, "he isn't used to it and us yet. Gloria
needed our guidance. Getting you to cum, with the "Cum Buster" as we
call it, isn't easy for first time users. With time it is a lot easier
and even better. For now, it's the only way you can cum, unless you
prefer total abstinence. That is fairly easy to arrange you know. You
have to get used to others enjoying your pleasure and pain."

Ms. K. unscrewed a small jar from the Cum Buster and left with
Ms. M. "I take care of this tonight for you and shut the lights."
Gloria climbed into bed and kissed my forehead. "Michael, I want you
to sl**p alone tonight and think it all over." I got up and went to my
bed.

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: nostrumo@nienor.in-berlin.de
Subject: TG: Chastity Belt Roulette (2/2)
Date: 4 Nov 1995 02:04:00 +0100

Chapter Three

As I lay in bed, I turned the day's events over and over in my
mind. It became clear. I could live with the sexual demands Gloria
made upon me and even the petty services, such as bath duties and
fetching things, but two things concerned me. I could not accept being
made to service Gloria in front of other men and more importantly, I
could not live with sex with a vacuum cleaner.

I do have to admit it was the most mind blowing experience and
her finger up my ass drove me insane. A man needed to be fully erect
and fuck a warm, wet pussy. Is it worth giving up my career and my
life style? If I don't try now, I'll never forgive myself later.

Quietly, I slipped out of bed. Luckily I had hid some spare
clothes in the car and had hid a spare key to the car in my shoe. I
found the keys I hid under the mattress. I sneaked down the stairs in
my nightgown without awakening anyone. The boots and coats I had
spotted earlier had been moved and were nowhere to be found easily. I
would get warm once I was back in the car. Getting the door open
without making a sound proved to be more difficult than I thought. It
took forever to open it enough for me to squeeze without it squeaking
too much. I reached the car and was glad when the door opened. Almost
home. I reached under the driver seat for the spare ignition key and
found a small note instead. I turned on the interior light and read
it.

Dear Michael,

Did you really think we had planned all
of this and not thought about you trying to
escape. The key to the car is on the kitchen
table. The front door is locked by now, so don't
bother trying to come back in. We suggest you
think about it tonight and if you still want to
leave, you may pick up the keys tomorrow morning
at 9 AM and drive where ever you want, except
home.

P.S. It gets rather chilly at night.
Just in case you get too cold, we also left you
a surprise. There is a hose line in the back
seat, if you attach it to your sheath and plug
in the adapter hanging from the dashboard, it
will start up the "Cum Buster" in the trunk.
When you get cold enough, an electric heater
will come on for five minutes for each ounce of
cum you deposit. Pleasant dreams.

Without a watch the night passed slowly. I could not tell how
close to dawn it was, but I tried to keep myself as warm as possible.

Finally, freezing, I caved in. I attached the hose to the
sheath and plugged it in. The sucking started, but without the
lubrication it was more like sandpaper than a soft pussy. Try as I
might, I could not get much cum. I quickly figured that a good cum was
maybe one ounce. Judging by the orgasm I had earlier this evening, I
didn't think I had much more to give. I took off the hose and put as
much saliva into the sheath as I could get and then reattached it. I
started to ooze more now, but I needed to cum. I got on all fours and
stuck my finger in my asshole. Somehow it wasn't as bad as I thought.
I probed and felt, but it did not feel the same as when Gloria did it.
I thought back to that experience. The Cum Buster sucking and Gloria
fingering me. I could feel my cum flowing now. I was closer to orgasm.
Just a little more.

Suddenly, the heat came on. Warmth! I have to keep this going.
I somehow got the finger in deeper. The Cum Buster started to speed
up. I was gyrating, humping my own finger. I needed more lubrication,
but I was afraid if I stopped to get more saliva on my cock, I would
lose it. My cock started to burn, but I needed more cum. The heater
went off and it seemed forever before it turned back on. I just kept
fucking my ass with my finger and trying to think of Gloria's
wonderful pussy. I could taste her pussy juice. I loved lapping her
cunt, feeling her tense up, shudder, over and over again. Why did I
ever fuck around? If I could do it over again, I'd be different.

The sudden light jolted me back to reality. The door opened
letting in daylight. Gloria, Ms. K. and Ms. M were standing there. I
was hunched up in the rear seat, still fucking my ass. My cock was raw
by now and totally numb. I just lay still, realizing my predicament.
The evening had passed, I must have fucked myself for over six hours
as it was 9 AM. Gloria asked if I was O.K. I was afraid to move.

Eventually, they got me to come with them. Ms K. was holding
that jar she removed from the Cum Buster. My cock burned. I pleaded
with them to let me remove the chastity belt and let me take care of
my cock. They provided me with blankets and some coffee. It was like
they cared. Gloria applied medication to my cock with the chastity
belt in place. It felt cool and stopped the burning. I cried like a
baby. After that we had a long talk. All four of us. They were human
and cared.

After a warm bath and breakfast, Gloria instructed me to get
dressed as I had done yesterday. I came down dressed in the corset,
stockings, bra, bloomers, camisole and a very full Victorian style
dress with five petticoats. The bloomers were strange as they weren't
closed at the crotch. Ms. K. told me Victorian women did not undress
for the toilet. The bloomers separated instead. We sat down and
discussed whether I wanted to leave or continue the remainder of my
training.

It was Ms. K. who made it so simple. I would forever wear the
chastity belt except for very special treats. Six days a week were to
be almost normal. I would continue my business as usual. Upon arrival
home from work I would have access to all life luxuries with my wife.

After dinner, when the maid and cook were off duty, I would
take over for both of them, plus any other service demanded by Gloria.
On Saturday, the routine would continue, except I would have my day
off.

After dinner we would depart for the party. On Sunday my
duties would start at 7 AM. I would take care of Gloria's needs first,
then clean up the maid's and cook's rooms. I would do any laundry
required. The rest of the day was up to Gloria.

When she was finished I could not help myself, but agree. It
was as fair as I could expect. The alternative was less desirable.
Just to reinf***e her point, she showed my a video tape of me dressing
yesterday and today, Gloria finger fucking my ass and being attached
to the "Cum Buster".

Then I was startled to see me hunched up in the back of my
car, sticking my finger up my own ass and humping the air. If any
pictures of that were to get public, I would be ruined. Under the
circumstances, I could learn to enjoy the Cum Buster and Gloria's
finger up my ass as much as I used to enjoy sex.

"Now that we have decided your future, It's time for lunch.
While you prepare it, we have some activities to arrange for Gloria
and you."

I disappeared into the kitchen. I did always enjoy gourmet
cooking and now I had a reason to practice it. While I was busy
cooking, Ms. K. and Ms. M. were busy discussing my training with
Gloria. It seems Gloria had many lessons to practice. She had to learn
to control me and use me most effectively for her enjoyment, something
that does not always come naturally to many women. She also had to
become used to the idea that sex was to be openly discussed and
husbands were openly displayed. It was totally natural and considered
normal to have a husband providing oral service in the presence of the
other ladies, provided her private parts were covered. Screaming and
moaning were welcome of course.

Normal intercourse was to be performed in private, but openly
discussed. Intercourse could be accomplished many ways, with a dildo
performed by oneself, by your husband manually, and by attaching the
dildo chastity belt cover, or mouth, or even conventionally if you
allow him to remove his chastity belt. It seemed the basic guideline
was, anything was acceptable if the female genitals remained hidden.

Gloria had to learn to at least practice many different
training and punishment techniques. A varied menu of techniques kept
the relationship interesting and prevented the husband and the wife
from becoming bored. As I was to provide total service for her, it was
easy to fall into a steady routine.

Gloria had to become acquainted with cross dressing me,
something that has already been started, enemas, diapering, dildo
training, male menstruation techniques and vaginal and asshole
worship. I had to be trained to provide oral service at any time of
the month. Many women found this difficult and Ms. K. had several
suggestions for making the idea easier to practice. Each week the
ladies would discuss for hours new techniques and ideas they had.
They would perfect them and report back on the results. Some insidious
but harmless ideas were invented in this way. Unknown to me, these
next weeks would be full of Gloria practicing them on me.

After lunch, my first lesson started. It was simple at first.
Gloria was lying on the couch with long flowing nightgown of a heavy
sweatsuit type material. It was unusual in that it appeared to be
closed at the bottom, like a large bubble with her legs appearing out
of two elastic openings. There was a third elastic opening in between
her legs. Gloria, smiled at me and said she would like oral service.

I stuck my head into the hole and discovered a dark and musky
smell. She obviously was very wet. Her body was already very warm. I
inched up to her crotch and proceeded to tongue her. I could feel the
wetness on her cunt and thighs. She told be to lick her clean first.

I could hear Gloria, Ms. K. and Ms. M. talking about their
husbands and how they serviced them. Ms. K. was talking about how her
husband could get his tongue several inches into her cunt. It was if I
wasn't there.

Gloria then told me she wanted to sit on my face. It wasn't
easy, but I somehow managed to arrange for her to sit on my face. I
was lying with my back on the couch and my legs up in the air against
the back of the couch. Gloria, was now facing my legs. She obviously
preferred this as she started to grind her cunt into my mouth and
started to moan. She was also becoming even wetter, if that were
possible. It was difficult to breath and I had to time her humping to
my breathing. All this sexual contact still had its affect on me. I
could feel bl**d pumping to my cock, but the raw skin from last night
f***ed me to think of other things.

Then I felt Gloria's finger at my asshole. She started gently,
pushing ever so slightly. Finally she got it in a little and started
to finger fuck me.

When I could feel it going in and out easily, she started to
work in a second finger. It burned as she tried to stretch my opening.
She stopped for a moment as she came to another climax. My face was
soaked from her pussy juice and sweat. My hair was matted down as
well. She continued probing with two fingers until even they worked
their way in. I could hear Ms. K. giving directions every now and
then.

"Twist them this way. Pause, Now push gently. Rotate them.
Good."

I was getting really tired by now and my tongue was aching,
but Gloria kept humping my face. Gloria pulled her fingers out and
then something larger and rounder was pushed firmly against my
asshole. She twisted it and pushed. It suddenly popped in place and
stopped. It was bigger than anything I had felt before.

Then Gloria seemed to concentrate on herself. She sped up her
humping as she neared yet another climax. This kept building. She was
slamming herself into my face. I licked her clit trying to get her to
cum. Finally, she came with a spurt, then a pulsing stream of pussy
juice, such as I had never seen. It gagged me. I had to swallow to
breathe. She slumped over the couch. I needed air desperately.

After several long minutes, she told me to lick her clean
again. I licked as much as I could reach and then she rolled over onto
the couch.

Ms. K told me to get a warm wash cloth and finish cleaning
Gloria. I pulled my head out and was met with the sweetest, freshest
breath of air I ever tasted. I was drenched in pussy juice and sweat
from my hair to my shoulders. When I returned I tried to clean Gloria
with my hand through the opening, but she told me to get my head in
there and to do it right. I had to slip my hands in through the same
opening as Gloria's legs. The odor almost made me pass out. The entire
inside of the nightgown was drenched. Gloria told me to prepare a bath
for her. My dress was totally drenched from the waist up and smelled
like Gloria did inside. It was then that I realized I still had
something up my ass. Gloria instructed me not to remove it until she
was bathed and had dressed.

"I will remove your butt plug at that time."

The plug at first wasn't too uncomfortable, but by the time
Gloria finished her bath and dressed, it felt like a telephone pole. I
was relieved when she told me to pull it out and take a bath.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, except that
Gloria used a small dildo on herself as I lay next to her. She came to
several small orgasms and fell asl**p shortly after kissing me
goodnight.

* * *

The next day my cock was still sensitive from my night in the
car. Gloria, Ms. K. and Ms. M. decided it was better to wait for my
cock to heal, before subjecting it to any additional stimulation.
Therefore, they chose to initiate me in several forms of play and
punishment techniques. Gloria would also become more comfortable with
her new role. She found it strange at times to make me suffer for her
amusement.

My next lesson was to continue dildo training. Their goal was
to train me to cum in my chastity belt while being fucked with a dildo
strapped to Gloria. The morning passed quickly as I serviced Gloria
orally and using my tongue and once with a dildo that attached to my
mouth.

The afternoon was actually pleasant. I served refreshments and
attended to the laundry, I was reminded what I had to do. Ms. M. was
having her period, judging by the stained panties. She made special
mention to give her panties special hand washing. I washed and pressed
all their clothes by hand. My own dress, ruined from the earlier
service to Gloria, was also hand washed. I was growing rather tired
and I assumed dinner would be requested shortly.

Gloria called for me to come up to the bathroom. All three
ladies were present and I did not like what they had in mind. Hanging
from the shower curtain rod was an enema bag with a long hose and a
strange looking enema nozzle. It was long and had what appeared to be
two deflated balloons on it. Gloria, said it is time I was cleansed
better. I asked what type of enema this was, but was silenced. I was
told to undress completely. It felt great getting out of the corset
and removing the fake tits. ###I bent over the tub and allowed her to
insert the nozzle. It was bulky, but not as bad as the butt plug. She
then started to squeeze one of the bulbs. I felt the balloon inside me
inflate, creating a full feeling.

Then she inflated the outer balloon. My asshole was now
trapped between two balloons. She released the water. I felt the
water rush into me. Ms. K, said to slow down the rate. It flowed until
I felt a cramp. I told Gloria I was full and needed to go. I was told
to relax, I had more to go.

Little did I know I was going to get a series of four enemas.
The first was only a quart of warm soapy water. The second was one and
a half quarts of warm clear water. The third was two quarts of warm
water. The first two were kept inside me for fifteen minutes. The
third enema was left in for nearly thirty minutes. The fourth enema
was another warm and large one. Once the nozzle, they called a Double
Special was inflated, I could not expel.

After the fourth enema was in, Gloria removed the two bulbs
used to inflate the balloons and disconnected the hose from the enema
bag. I now had the Double Special nozzle half hanging from my asshole.
The two quarts of water also placed a tremendous pressure on me to
expel them, which I could not. They told me to put my bra and dress
back on and come downstairs with them. I walked very slowly. They sat
down on the couch and told me to prepare dinner. Dinner took two
hours to prepare. I was in agony the last hour. The only position
which provided some relief was to lie flat on my back.

While serving dinner, Gloria whispered something to Ms. K...
Her response was, "He can take a little more my dear." The cramps were
quite severe and it was obvious I had could not take much more. I
completed serving and was told to relieve myself. But before I
returned, I should insert the butt plug they had left for me in the
bathroom.

This plug was a little different. It had a small hole from one
end to the other. I inserted it and went back downstairs. There was a
single glass of what looked like a chocolate milk shake at my place
setting.

"Michael, for several days after your enema, you will be on a
liquid diet. Enjoy."

The evening went fairly quickly. I serviced Gloria once again
on the couch while they watched TV. She was tired and had two small
climaxes.

After the last one, Gloria had me get on all fours and she
inserted a small tube into the butt plug. She used a small enema bag
to f***e some liquid into my asshole. She had me lie with my legs
raised for fifteen minutes with the liquid in my ass. When she finally
told me to get on all fours again, I felt no desire to relieve myself.
I only felt a bloated feeling.

Then she proceeded to inject a second liquid. It could not
have been very much as I couldn't feel it. Then she used a small cork
to plug the hole.

Gloria then held me in her arms and told me she loved me. As
an extra sign of love she had given me something I always loved giving
her. She had injected eight ounces of my own cum into my asshole.
Before we went to bed she would remove the plug and it would drip out
slowly. She picked up what looked like a diaper and plastic panties
and said, "You'll be needing these tonight. Just to be certain you
don't stain the bed." I took the diaper and panty, I saw that both Ms.
M and Ms. K were smiling and went upstairs. Before I reached my door,
Gloria called up, "You'll sl**p in my room tonight, dear."

I slept like a baby that night, and woke up with a wet bottom.
The cum had dripped out all night and was a sticky gooey mess. I took
care of my morning duties and had breakfast ready for the late
sl**pers. I had found that my cock had healed quite nicely by now and
actually felt rather comfortable in the sheath.

Later that day Gloria, Ms. M and Ms. K introduced me to
mechanical prostrate stimulation. Gloria was educated in the use of a
thin mechanical prostrate probe. It provided intense sensations of
orgasms and copious cum oozing from my trapped cock. Strangely, each
time I came Gloria was very careful to either attach the Cum Buster to
suck up my cum or even attach a condom to the end of the sheath to
catch the cum. It became a ritual for her to carefully collect and
take away my cum, as if she were savoring my last bit of manliness.

After a particularly long oral service, Ms. K. returned with a
baster from the kitchen and removed the cum collection bottle from the
Cum Buster, which now had several ounces of my cum. She carefully
sucked up the entire bottle and equally carefully had Gloria recline
while Gloria squeezed the contents inside her cunt. Ms. M. turned to
me and in a loud voice demanded I clean Gloria. The though of my cum
dripping out of her made me gag. But Ms. M and Ms. K. had this look
which said I had better snap to it.

I licked the few drips and tasted my own slippery saltiness. I
tried to swallow to get the taste out of my mouth, but before I had
much time I felt a sting on my ass. Ms. K. had struck with a paddle.
She said to clean Gloria and that meant inside and outside. I spent
the next fifteen minutes trying to lick Gloria clean. Each time I
thought I was done, she seemed to ooze yet more cum. By the time I was
finished, I was totally unaware of the taste of the cum and Gloria
seemed to enjoy sitting up to allow the cum to drip out slowly.

Later that evening, the women were whispering quite a bit and
Gloria seemed uneasy. I could see she was unhappy about something. It
was almost 2 AM when Gloria called to me downstairs where I was
enjoying a rest alone. Gloria was alone and sitting on a large old
bath towel wearing the outfit with elastic leg openings and a single
elastic opening between the legs. I expected Gloria wanted some oral
sex before retiring. Gloria looked at me and said, she had to do this,
but felt uneasy about it.

"I'm having my period. It started earlier this evening and Ms.
K. told me to wait until the flow increased. I want you to service me.
Further, you will service me all night, making sure to awaken every
hour and clean me with your tongue."

I looked into her eyes and begged her not to ask this. She
looked away. I took a deep breath and plunged into her nightgown. I
had never experience an odor this strong. In the past I had gotten a
whiff of her discharge during her period, but never this much or that
strong.

After the cum experience, I didn't gag, and never really
tasted her period. Maybe I was immune from eating so much cum and
pussy juice these last several days. I guess I was suddenly knocked
back to reality after what seemed forever when Gloria started to arch
her back. She had been fairly quiet, gently moving her hips from time
to time. Now she suddenly, seemed to be getting turned on. I found her
clit and attacked it, she convulsed several times. Then she started to
really moan loudly.

Soon she was thrashing her hips so I had a difficult time
staying with her. I expected her to climax and rest, but she only
increased her rhythm still further. She peaked, I felt her arch her
back and scream, louder than she had ever and certainly louder than
with Ms. K or Ms. M around. She didn't stop. One orgasm flowed into
another. I lost track, but she continued with intense orgasms one
after another. My jaw ached, yet she demanded I continue.

Only when she collapsed on the couch could I rest. It was dark
and very musky. I couldn't see if she was still bleeding, so I gave
small licks to her vulva just to be sure. She gave a small moan each
time. It seems hours later that she told me to come out. The lights
were out. She said we would go upstairs. Upstairs, I startled myself
in the mirror. My face had dark red smears from my neck and into my
hair. Gloria lay on the bed on a large old towel and told me to climb
between her legs. But before I did she inserted that butt plug with a
small hole in it and had me put on a diaper. I was to awaked each hour
and lick her vulva clean.

Near morning I felt a wetness in my diaper. Strange since
Gloria hadn't put any cum up my ass. I climbed out of bed and into the
bathroom to see why I felt wet. I was bl**dy. I ran into the bedroom
and awoke Gloria. "I'm bleeding, you must have torn my rectum."

"Darling, you're perfectly fine. It's just your period."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Michael, your first period is always upsetting. Sit down and
let me explain. First, remember the small enema I gave you after
dinner tonight. Well, it never came out remember. That was a special
liquid designed to coat your cleaned colon. It forms a thick coat on
your colon and takes about a day to slowly dissolve away. That is what
looks like bl**d. The butt plug with the hole ensures that you can't
stop the flow. The liquid diet makes sure you have nothing else in
there for several days. Some additional wetness is needed to make it
somewhat more uncomfortable. In your drink tonite was a diuretic which
has the strange effect of making you urinate in small dribbles in
between when you really have to urinate. The bl**dy mess leaking from
your ass mixed with the urine is quite realistic looking. The process
takes about five days. Now we can enjoy our periods together. I am
surprised you haven't felt any cramps. Usually the diuretic gives the
men cramps also."

"Gloria, I have them also, but under the circumstances, I
didn't think to mention it."

"Now, back in bed, the diaper will take care of your period.
You need to take care of mine."

Chapter Four

Every afternoon and every evening during her period I provided
oral service to Gloria. She discovered the once she overcame her
inhibitions about oral service during her period, the increased
hormonal activity intensified her orgasms and she would forever look
forward to her period.

The next evening Gloria and I lay together as if nothing had
changed. We talked about old memories, about our wedding and we
drifted onto our wedding night. Gloria commented how the nightgown she
had chosen for me that night was white and lacy just like hers that
honeymoon night. At that moment Gloria reached down as if to feel my
cock, but instead stopped at my anus. It felt funny, having her slowly
stroke the area. I sucked her tits as she continued to probe me. She
bent over the bed and retrieved a jar of vaseline. She lubricated her
finger and without saying a word, continued to probe me, trying to pry
open my anus. She whispered for me to relax.

It was somehow different this time. Her finger, although
smaller than the butt plug, seemed more real and I felt tense at her
touch. Slowly, she managed to get her finger inside and it felt more
comfortable in this strange position, Gloria fingering my asshole,
while I lay passive. I had almost begun to feel relaxed with her
finger moving slowly in and out, when she rolled over and sat on the
edge of the bed. She reached down and seemed to be stepping into
something. As she brought it up to her waist, I could see it was my
dildo pants. It was obscene on her. A huge cock stood obliquely away
from her body. Horror struck me as I realized what she had in mind.

"Gloria, you can't. It's too big. Please, it will hurt."

Gently, she held my head and told me she would be very gentle
as I was on our honeymoon night.

"I want you to lie on your back and let me fasten your hands
to these leather harnesses," which she proceeded to pull up from
behind the headboard. As she tightened the second harness around my
wrist, I was shaking. "Now I want you to raise your legs up real high
and bring them up over your head."

I swung them up and Gloria proceeded to fasten them to a
second set of leather harnesses she pulled from behind the headboard.
I was now in a very awkward position. My ass was high in the air,
totally vulnerable.

Gloria positioned herself behind me and slowly started to work
a smaller dildo into my ass. She was patient and allowed me to relax
my sphincter until it didn't hurt anymore. She removed the dildo and
inserted a basting tool filled with a thick substance and squeezed it
inside me.

"Just some cum and vaseline mixture honey."

She took some more vaseline and lubricated the dildo
protruding from her. It seemed larger now, glistening as if cum was
oozing from its thick head. She pressed it gently against my anus. She
massaged it between the cheeks of my ass and against my sphincter,
always pressing a little harder each time. It was if she had been
taught the art of fucking a virgin asshole.

The pressure gave way to a burning as she stretched my
opening. My complaints received only a gentle word of encouragement to
relax. I tried not to fight anymore, I dreamed of me fucking Gloria.
Our honeymoon, those long sessions of sex. Fucking and sucking. I
remember fucking her for hours. She was so tight back then. My
daydream ended as I realized that Gloria was deep inside me.

It was her first thrust all the way the snapped the dream. I
felt full like I had to take a shit. I was worried I would. Then this
sudden feeling of emptiness as she pulled it out. She seemed to find a
rhythm as she thrust in and out. I remember I would watch her face and
listen to her moans to know how to fuck her. As she neared her peak, I
would go faster with shorter strokes, that always brought her over the
top. I preferred long deep thrusts, in and out to bring me to climax.
I wondered what was driving her, I wasn't giving her hints what to do;
if I could cum; did she really feel some sexual turnon?

Her rhythm was picking up now. She was breathing harder and
sweating. She seemed lost in her own thoughts, as if I weren't really
there. She was visibly tired and she was obviously straining to go
faster, with shorter strokes. She started to moan, not from being
tired, but from pleasure. She was actually enjoying this and getting a
sexual turn on. My ass felt totally invaded and somehow not in my
possession anymore.

Her moaning increased and her rhythm increased yet again. The
pressure in my ass as she thrust in was enormous only to feel like my
insides were being pulled out as she pulled out. My whole genital area
was sensitized and tingled. It spread up my spine and to my chest.
Gloria was straining at her limits to fuck my ass faster; she was
starting to let out shrieks of pleasure. In a few seconds she thrust
her dildo deep inside me and held totally still, her back arched, her
face tense with ecstasy. She was too tired to scream as her orgasm
struck. She collapsed on top of me.

As she finally rolled off me, she looked at me and said, "Now
I understand how you felt. The power wielded by penetrating someone
gives you a sense of control I now have. It's wonderful, but too much
work. We'll try it again sometime."

"Gloria," I asked, did you really get off fucking my ass?"

She laughed, and stood up on the bed over me. The dildo was
red from my fake bl**d.

"The next time we do this remind me not to do it when you're
having your period. It's too messy."

She pulled the dildo pants down, and as she did a smaller
dildo popped from her pussy.

"Silly, did you really think I could climax by merely fucking
your ass. These dildo pants are a little different than yours. As I
fuck you, this smaller dildo, expands and fucks me. The faster I go
the faster it expands and lengthens. It's like fucking myself, only it
uses the pressure you provide to power my little dildo. Honey, I have
so many toys to play with now, you can't imagine what they have
invented."

Over then next week and a half, Gloria tried every toy out on
herself and me. Daily prostrate massages were in order as Gloria loved
to have me cum, well, ooze cum. She also seemed to enjoy squeezing
liquids of different consistencies into me, then plugging me with the
dildo with a hole in it. She would love having me wear a sanitary pad,
diaper or just let me wet my panties. All in all it wasn't so bad.

We fell into a routine eventually, which thankfully left out
fucking my ass too often. Gloria did not really like giving me an
enema which always preceeded anal fucking. Our relationship also
strengthened as I felt closer to her than I had ever felt in the past.
Ms. K and Ms. M sensed my change and became my friends not tormentors.

As long as I respected the rules laid down by Gloria, my life,
with the exception of orgasm, was simpler, less stressful and rather
pleasant. I found I didn't mind serving others and I knew that I
mainly had to please Gloria.

When the lessons ended, it was sad. We had learned so much
about each other. We all kissed and hugged, even though we knew we
would see each other in a matter of a week. I even felt funny,
corseting up that morning and having Gloria remind me to wear my male
clothes that day. She did insist I remain corsetted even for the ride
home. In fact, she had me wear my heels to get used to driving in
them.

When we reached home, I e****ted Gloria to the house and
returned to unpack our luggage. Gloria was waiting in the den when I
finished unpacking the last suitcase. I asked Gloria what I should
wear now.

"Later honey, I feel tired and haven't climaxed in several
hours."

I knelt between her legs and found her panties damp. I
massaged her feet and sucked each toe. I worked my way up her legs and
found her pussy wet and waiting for my tongue. After her climax,
without a word I prepared her bath. As she slipped into the tub, she
whispered, "We need a larger tub. I have some ideas for us."

* * *

Months have passed and Gloria and I are like newlyweds each
day. I drive off to work reminded of my new position in life as the
chastity belt holds me securely.

There is an event each year we are waiting for now. December
31 is a very special day for the women and their obedient husbands.
The evening starts with dinner cooked and served by the husbands of
course.

After the ladies have completed the meal and the table is
cleared, we can catch a bite to eat while cleaning up the table and
kitchen.

It's after dinner that the fun begins. The men are responsible
for preparing and serving the munchies and drinks. The women discuss
the year's events and plan for the coming year. The major difference
about tonight is that the women avoid being serviced sexually during
the early evening, in preparation for the events to follow.

At nine o'clock the men are arranged on a circular table lying
down on their backs. They are arranged radially with their heads
toward the center and their feet outward and raised. In this position
they are in a sitting position on their backs. At the center of the
table is a cushioned circular raised center with cushioned rests for
knees. This makes it very comfortable for the wives to arrange
themselves facing one another, while enjoying oral service from their
husbands. However, before they indulge themselves, they add some
additional spice to the evenings plans. Each husband is hooked up to a
"Cum Buster" which carefully monitors the amount of cum generated by
each husband. The cum is them directed into the collection bottle.

Directly behind each husband is a removable pole attached to
the table. From the pole hangs a two quart enema bag. The hose from
the enema bag runs to a small pump. The pump is controlled by the "Cum
Buster". The hose continues from the pump to a specially modified
Special Enema Nozzle. The Special Nozzle prevents any enema fluid from
leaking out. At the end of the nozzle, deep inside the rectum is a
special probe controlled by a knob also located on the pump. The probe
remains in contact with the prostrate gland and can provide direct
stimulus to the prostrate. This is turn helps promote orgasms which
are constantly being teased by the Cum Buster. A liberal dose of
lubricant is applied to the penis sheath before the Cum Buster is
turned on.

When the husbands are secured and ready, the enema pump is
turned on. A set flow rate is begun. It is designed so that in three
hours, the entire two quarts will be pumped into the husband. The
flow is interrupted for fifteen minutes whenever the husband deposits
one ounce of cum. Given that there are twelve fifteen minute intervals
from 9 to 12 PM. Each husband would need to deposit twelve ounces of
cum in three hours, a feat that no one has achieved, thus ensuring
that each one receives at least a very sizeable enema.

One last detail. The enema pump is required since the enema
fluid is a bit unusual. You see, the women collect the cum from the
Cum Buster and save much of it over the year. In fact each collects in
excess of two gallons. Just to add insult to injury, each husband
receives someone else's cum. At the end of the evening, each husband
had at least one gallon of someone else's cum in him.

While the husbands are busy trying to cum, the wives enjoy the
party. If a wife feels especially nice, she can even stimulate his
prostrate and help him cum, reducing his enema.

At 11:30 PM another event takes place. By now each husband is
cramping from the enema and must now provide oral service to his wife.
The wives now mount their husbands at precisely 11:30 PM and begin a
contest. For thirty minutes the wives compete for the most orgasms. A
small sensor inserted within their vaginas monitors the vaginal spasms
and bl**d pressure to ensure an accurate orgasm count. The winner with
the most orgasms wins a vacation of her choice. In addition, there are
consolation prizes for the orgasm closest to 12 midnight, the funniest
face during orgasm and the loudest scream. The husband providing the
most orgasms is allowed to expel his enema shortly after twelve
o'clock.

At 12 o'clock the women relax while remaining firmly planted
on their husband's tongues and toast the new year with champagne.
Each losing husband is allowed to stand holding his enema while the
wives refresh themselves and the lucky husbands expels his quart or
two of cum. All the husbands are provided a well deserved cocktail. A
tall champagne glass filled with his favorite cum. Not until each has
drained his glass can be then discuss with his wife his new year
resolutions for this year.

The wives of course have selected them and discuss his
achievements and failures from the previous years. This can take
sometime as new resolutions are made and old ones broken are carefully
discussed and repledged. This has taken as long as an hour, while
holding nearly two gallons of a cum enema. By 1 AM each husband has in
turn relieved himself. The party continues with each wife looking
forward to the new year.

... Continue»
Posted by klammer 1 year ago  |  Categories: Anal, BDSM, Fetish  |  Views: 2963  |  
71%
  |  2

Chastity Belt Roulette




Chastity Belt Roulette

by Anonymous
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1

In a small town in New Jersey a small group of husbands and wives meets each weekend for a very special evening. The purpose of the evening is for the husbands to provide total, complete and absolute service to the wives in any manner they see fit, while the husbands compete for a chance at Chastity Belt Roulette. You see, each husband is locked into a very secure and nonremovable chastity belt, which can only be unlocked with the proper key. Only two keys exist in the world; One carefully locked away in a secret safe deposit box, and the other safely hidden and out the reach of the husbands. Perhaps I should digress and explain this novel approach to ensure husband fidelity and servitude.

Six months ago I made a cardinal sin; I cheated on my wife. It was my first and last time, but in a moment of male weakness I allowed myself to be tempted for simple sexual pleasure. Now I cannot achieve an erection let alone even touch myself without first earning the right to compete in Chastity Belt Roulette. But I am getting ahead of myself. Like a lot of weak males I could not live with the guilt and hoped for forgiveness from my wife. I was surprised to learn she knew I had cheated and had kept it to herself. When I finally told her she let out her pent up anger, but over time our relationship seemed to improve. I was cut off from sex during this time of course. Then one day she sat down and laid out an ultimatum for me.

It seems she had discussed my transgression with her some of her closest friends. One of her friends had a similar experience with her husband. As it turned out, that friend had already joined a group of women, who all had husbands who cheated. Each wanted the same thing, an alternative to divorce but one that would guarantee he would never cheat again. Even more important. To ensure he would be more attentive to her needs, become dependent on her and look to her and only her for sexual pleasure. After searching for the answer, they found it. Reading up on the strict discipline and observance of chastity by Middle East women, they discovered that indeed a highly secure and totally effective chastity belt was indeed made for males. In fact, since males could cleanse more easily, the male belt could be left on indefinitely if desired. As the plan began to gel, the group thinned leaving only those woman with husbands who would do anything not to be divorced. My wife Gloria became interested in talking with the group. As she learned more, she began to see a wonderful new life taking shape for us.

I was the macho male in bed, proud of my sexual feats. Yet, my wife always wanted to take charge. Unfortunately, my male ego wouldn't let her, at least not very often. I earned a very comfortable living as a prominent defense attorney, specializing in sexual harassment, my wife was an executive at a corporation and also earned a very comfortable salary. Our life was very simple, a beautiful home, maid, cook, cars and great vacations. Why would I want to leave this? On that day she approached me with the proposition, it was all laid out for me. It was rehearsed very well.

She had hired the finest divorce lawyer available. She said she had photographic proof of my infidelity. Further more, if I did not agree to her terms, not only would she get everything, but she would ruin my business. I was somewhat skeptical she could really ruin my business, but I would soon learn she had the capability in hand. I sat and listened in total disbelief. I was totally convinced she meant every word. But what were her terms she kept alluding to. Only after signing a confession of infidelity and agreeing to her terms, did she reveal them. They were actually simple and seemed rather silly. All I had to do was to wear a chastity belt and attend a party with her once a week, where I and other men, in the same situation, would serve and obey completely anything the wives demanded. I sat there, wondering what the catch was. A stupid chastity belt I would take off the moment I left home and serving women did not seem all that bad. That might be fun. All of a sudden she barked out a command.

She told me to undress completely and take a hot shower. While showering, she suddenly opened the curtain, she herself was now nude. It didn't take long for my cock to snap to attention as I hadn't had any for quite awhile now and my right hand just didn't quite feel the same as a nice warm, wet pussy. She turned off the water and told me that she wanted to shave all my hair from the neck down. She had always wanted to feel me with smooth soft skin. It sounded kinky, so what the heck. As her hands held my swollen cock she carefully shaved my pubic hair. I admit it felt and looked rather funny. Next she shaved my underarms, something I really did not like. Finally she applied a depilatory over my legs and I watched as the hair seemed to melt away. We turned the water back on as she hugged me, letting my cock feel her warm body. It slid under her pussy as she pressed against my body. I tried to angle it in, but she kept it pressed against her, sliding between her lips. Slowly at first, then faster. I knew she would soon be asking me to slip it in. I let her get closer and closer and suddenly she shook, then she screamed as she pressed hard against my aching swollen cock. I whispered, now I'll let you cum with a hard cock inside you. As she stepped out, with a smile on her face, she quickly turned on the cold water. It hit like a ton of bricks. In an instant my erection was limp.

I came out of the shower screaming at her. She had already start putting on a robe. It was her look that made me stop. It was cold, sincere and she obviously controlled the situation. I grabbed a towel to dry myself as she went to her closet and returned with a box. I was curious and came over as she removed a very no nonsense looking harness of some kind. What the hell is that? It's your chastity belt dummy. I can't wear that, besides, I thought we were just getting started. Your right, we are just getting started. That was your first lesson. You're here to please me. If I decide and when I decide, you may be rewarded. Remember, you just signed your life away and it's locked up now. At the moment I wasn't sure what proof she had and I didn't want to take chances just yet. There was time for that later. For now I'll just go along with this game. Besides the quicker I accommodated her the quicker this would be over, or so I thought.

First came a stainless steel band, covered with rubber that fit tightly around my waist. It did not have any room to slide at all. It fastened with a lock which I had never seen before. Then she slid this rubber coated steel sheath over my limp cock and locked it to another formidable steel piece that attached to the belt around my waist. Two steel chains were attached to the back of the belt. These ran between my legs and were attached to the piece holding sheath. Finally she locked the piece, which secured the penis sheath, to the front of the belt with an equally secure lock. She took the key and left the room, with me pondering just what the hell did I get myself into. When she returned, she smiled. The key to the chastity belt is now locked up along with the confession. They are locked in a safe you aren't aware of and by tomorrow will be safely in my attorneys hands. In case your are wondering, how long you will wear the chastity belt, I will tell you. You will be wearing it long after all your pubic hair grows back. I've been told that it is a lot of fun. Each itch should remind you of your position in life from now on. I own your cock, I own your total and complete attention, and I own your life. If you try to remove the chastity belt f***efully, you will probably end up in the hospital. I've been told, no one has successfully removed it by f***e and those who did, hurt themselves trying. I will also throw away the keys and tell my attorney to execute my divorce papers with your signed confession. You will continue to wear it until I feel you are ready to attend a little party. When you show me complete obedience, we will discuss our next phase.

My anger broke through. This is totally ridiculous and I demand you take this belt off me. I don't give a fuck what evidence you have of my infidelity. Who cares. If you want a divorce, you got it. There is nothing you can do harm my business.

With that she turned to the television and proceeded to play a video tape. There were scenes of my fooling around with my one of my clients who just won a large law suite for sexual harassment. Then there were some scenes of us in bed and finally a replay of my wife putting on the chastity belt. This is for starters. I would think a little newspaper expose of a prominent attorney screwing with one of his clients and his wife putting a chastity belt on him, might cause the Bar Association to ask a few embarrassing questions.

The next six months were the worst nightmare I had experienced. It started with the pubic hair growing back. I could not even scratch myself. Each move drove me up a wall. I invented reasons to take showers, directly the water at the chastity belt. But, adding insult to injury I had to shave my underarms each week and keep my legs hairless. As I became accustomed to the belt and the pubic hair finally grew back, it started to become a ritual to shave myself. Finally, my wife allowed me to grow my leg hair if I agreed to have it waxed off. The chance to not have to shave my legs once a week seemed a small price for the pain of waxing. Even my toilet habits were changed. I did everything like a women as my cock was permanently pointed down between my legs. Gloria appreciated never having to put the seat down.

At first my duties were simple. Preparing her bath, helping her dress (my favorite) and fetching drinks or snacks, usually at night. Then it expanded to washing her lingerie or anything the maid didn't do. With the maid and cook around, it was becoming somewhat awkward. About that time and unknown to me, my wife had a talk with our maid and cook. The two women were told of my predicament. Just to make sure they found it acceptable, she also gave them both a raise and explained that on their day off, I was to straighten both there rooms and clean their bathrooms. This included any laundry they may have. This they accepted quite eagerly, as I had always been a bastard to both of them.

Shortly after that, my wife started to allow me to touch her body. At first all I was allowed was to suck her toes and kiss her feet. Then I could suck her tits. Finally she rewarded me with the scent of her pussy again in my nose. She carefully instructed me, how to separate her lips with my tongue and slowly pressing it against her clitoris. Then letting it probe her hole. I spent hours bringing her to climax after climax, hoping she would lose control and let my cock loose. My cock was in pain, it tried to get erect only to feel the tight boundaries of it confines. It would ooze cum. My wife would giggle as I "dripped" cum, just like a women with cum inside her. Now you know how it feels. I begged her to release me. I promised eternal faithfulness. I would never even look at another women. I would live to please her. Each night we would repeat our ritual. Some nights she would be horny and I would have to spend hours satisfying her. I never knew she could go on for so long. Sometimes she would get behind me while I was on all fours and kind of press against me. It was strange because she couldn't get off on it and neither could I. On other nights she might awake in the middle of the night and whisper for me to service her. She would lazily spread her legs and reach a small shuddering climax and just drift off to sl**p with a smile on her pert lips.

One day she came home and announced we were going on vacation. A small mountain retreat. Strange that she always hated rusted type places. I packed all her things carefully, as she instructed. I smelled her lingerie as I neatly folded those wonderful unmentionables. As I started to grab my suitcase, she said I would not need very much and she had already arranged for my stuff. But, my winter clothes are still in the closet. I said I have taken care of everything! I was concerned and didn't like departing without my clothes.

We drove into the mountains and finally arrived at a rustic house deep in the woods. Startled, I saw smoke coming from the chimney.

Oh, they are here already. Who I said? Just two women I met awhile ago, she answered.

But, I thought this was for just us two. I thought I had satisfied you all these months as to my true feelings towards you.

Well, you thought wrong. Bring in the suitcases.

As I dragged in the last of her suitcases, I began to worry, just what was I going to wear with two other women around. This did not seem like I thought it would be. Did they know about my chastity belt? Besides, I had arranged for my associate to handle my case for three weeks. Finally, I came into the den where my wife and the two other women were talking and laughing. They turned to me and said welcome. Your wife tells me your completely used to the chastity belt.

My mouth hung open. We have no secrets here. We both know everything about you. Lets see, your are completely shaven or should I say waxed. You hate doing underarms, but we all do. And the last time you had an orgasm was, let's see, six months ago. No, your wife came in the shower, but you took a cold shower. Oh yes, you were screwing another women. I hope that it was worth it. Let's see, orgasm lasts 6 seconds, and abstinence for over six months. A good start. Maybe if your a quick learner, you might cum for Christmas. They all giggled. We have a few simple rules here.

1) You will always obey all orders given by one of us. 2) Your wife has absolute authority over you. 3) You will never sexually touch another women.

Enough for rules. Remember them. If you violate any of them, you and your wife must leave here and she can do whatever she desires with you. As I understand it, you stand to lose a lot.

Now, upstairs to the right is your bedroom. You will sl**p in your bedroom or with your wife depending on what she desires. I hear you are quite good with your tongue.

I couldn't believe she knew that. Gloria had never spoke to anyone about our sexual life.

I had to ask. I don't get this. Who are you? Why would my wife tell you about our sexual life or for that matter about our agreement.

I don't recall giving you permission to question us. But I understand your concern. This is all new to you. She proceeded to tell me about the group of woman who formed to discuss methods of controlling the sexual lives of their husbands and how it expanded to include dominating and making them serve their wives as dutiful husbands should. We have found that by merely controlling their cocks, we controlled the whole person. How wonderful. We eventually found that we could enjoy our husbands as sexual toys. We did not have to cater to them, we did not have to get them "hard", in fact we could snap our fingers and have a warm tongue soothing the days problems away. Oh yes, a "hard" cock does have some advantage and occasionally we could indulge ourselves. A carefully trained cock could be a wonderful source of pleasure and the ultimate reward for a husband is just an orgasm away. Think how simple. A few short strokes for a deserving husband and their happy. Of course, each time we allow such a reward, we must hold some penalty over their heads to ensure they put their chastity belts back on. We have found very convincing reasons for you to jump into your belt again. Now, upstairs and you will find your clothes laid out on the bed. If you need help, just come down here and we'll be glad to help you.

I was totally shaken. This is definitely deeper than I planned on getting. As I turned into my room, I was taken back. It was simple. A large bed, dresser, and a closet. What really caught my eye was the outfit laying on the bed. A real corset, stockings, old fashioned bloomers, a cotton camisole, several lacy petticoats, and a old fashioned dress. At the foot of the bed were high heel shoes. I stormed out of the room and declared what the hell is this. I am not wearing that stuff. Forget it.

They looked up totally nonchalant and Gloria held a key that was attached to her necklace and said, I guess the party is over. I'm sorry, I thought he would understand better than he did. Gloria, my dear, they all react this way. We found that the shock value of realizing their position was a better approach than doing it slowly. As for you, I assume you realize that without your wife, you have nothing. Oh yes. Your wife will always own your cock or you will own nothing. Your choice. And I am sorry, I forgot to put out your bra. It's still in the top draw. I would take a careful look in the top draw before you say anything else.

I was speechless. I could simply give up everything, get the chastity belt sawed off somehow and start all over. I opened the draw and found some pictures. They were of me in my chastity belt, shaving my legs and underarms and one of me having my legs waxed. Then there were some that weren't right. Someone doctored up pictures of me. I was on all fours with Gloria behind me wearing what looked like this large cock. She never did that. There were some with me even smiling back at her. This is blackmail. I would have to move clear out of the state and start a new business. O.K. just relax. How bad is this. The girls will have their kicks, and in three weeks I'll be back home. Maybe, by then the belt might come off. Mental orgasms aren't that bad. Just think. It really isn't bad eating pussy every night and all I'm really doing is some petty crap. Let's stick this out and show them I can take it.

Chastity Belt Roulette

Chapter 2

Shit, look at that bra. It must be a 40 DD. It has fake tits in it. And the corset, damn, it looks small and serious, not like the sexy ones I got for Gloria. O.K. I don't have much choice for now. I better get dressed. After taking off my clothes, I was shivering trying to fasten the corset. I couldn't even fasten the hooks and eyes and lacing it up the back was impossible. Damn. I'll go down stairs and pretend it's nothing and ask for help. The girls didn't even look up as I came down with the corset hanging from me.

Oh, I see you need some help. Dear, a lesson is in order. First its a lot easier to put on your stockings first, bending with the corset on is difficult. No matter, turn around. First fasten the top hook. Now do the bottom. Now start moving up. Good. Now reach behind and pull these laces first. Tighter. Now cross the two long loops and pull hard. Harder. Men, are such wimps. Now pull these from the bottom up again and pull it again. Keep pulling until the corset seam is closed. Deary, you have a 34 inch waist, this is only a 30 inch corset. When you are fully trained your waist will be 26, to match your wife's. In fact our goal is for your figure, with some help, to be the same as your wife's. You have to diet and exercise more. Here let me show you. With one pull the seams closed and my breath was squeezed out of me. Much better. Now run along and quickly dress. We are hungary for dinner.

She was right about the stockings, I practically bruised my ribs pulling them up. I felt totally absurd putting on the huge bra and fake tits. They were actually heavy and really pulled on my back. The rest of the clothes were easy. I somehow felt more comfortable pulling up the bloomers which came down below my knees and with the camisole over my bra. I'm not sure if being warmer was part of it, but I at least felt dressed and not naked in front of the women. Suddenly, I felt I needed to think of them as women not girls. As if they demanded some more respect. Everything was fine until I put the shoes on. I figured they would be much too small and I could just tell them they really didn't fit. But, much to my chagrin, they fit. Then I tried walking for the first time in high heels. It felt like I was walking down hill and I kept wobbling. I tried walking with smaller steps, but nothing helped. They really hurt my feet and made me feel funny. It's like the clothes didn't count anymore, but the shoes made me walk like a woman. And they make a loud clack each time I took a step on the wood floor. It was embarrassing.

I mustered all my courage and walked as quietly as I could and went down stairs. Gloria has this smile from ear to ear. I turned beet red. You will address us as Ms. K. and Ms. M. We do not believe in sharing husbands, we do not get off dominating someone else's husband. We are here to assist your wife. What she does with you is her business. We've all discussed the most intimate parts of our lives. So we have no problem discussing how and what she may do with you to train you for our special parties. If she is successful, you will learn all about Chastity Belt Roulette.

Excuse me, Ms. K? - Very good. Just what is Chastity Belt Roulette? It's just a game we play each week. We will have plenty of time to discuss it later. Now, off to the kitchen and prepare dinner. The menu is on the table and I understand you make an excellent roast chicken. Roast chicken now! It will takes several hours. We have time. Call when its ready.

Between the dress getting in the way, gigantic tits blocking my vision whenever I looked down, my ribs aching to be free and my feet killing me, things could not have been worse, except I swear my back hurt from hauling around these tits. At least I can take of the heels. No one is here and Gloria always takes them off when she gets home. God, it really must feel good when I suck her toes after being cramped in heels all day. No sooner did I removed the heels than Ms. M. came in and said, I didn't have permission to take off the shoes.

I just thought it would be all right and how did you know I took them off? It isn't too difficult when all we here is you clacking about in here and suddenly it stops. May I at least bring a chair in here to sit while I wait. Why do you think we removed the chair. How much longer before the dinner is ready? About 1 hour and 15 minutes. Come in with me to the den then.

Michael, (the first time my name was used and it sounded funny), Gloria, Ms. M. and I were discussing you and it's time we explain why you are dressed this way. Contrary to every thought you had, you are not cross dressed for our pleasure. Personally, seeing you this way is rather amusing, but definitely not a turn on for Ms. M or me. Maybe Gloria feels differently, but that's not important to you now. The main intention for this is to acquaint you with the how it feels, in a dramatic way, to be a woman. On display, in clothes that may not be functional or comfortable. Gloria may or may not dress you up in the future, that's up to her. We found that it serves to put you in your place, like shock treatment in some sense. You look totally ridiculous. Your breasts are - well - rather large, your dress is feminine and cumbersome with all the petticoats and from the neck up your a male. We purposely didn't give you a wig or makeup. You're just plain absurd looking. We want you to feel comfortable obeying any command your wife may give. Rest assured, she will not command anything that would harm you or any one else. We have a strict code of safety and guidelines to follow. She will never ask or expects you to approach, talk to, touch or in any many make sexual overtures to another woman. This is our basic guideline. You belong to her and she will not share you with anyone. If you can accept that, there are benefits to this life. One more thing. I know you are thinking that some day Gloria will want intercourse and maybe she will. But, before you think it is sooner than later, consider her options. Ms. K. opened a suitcase laying on the couch. In it were several flesh colored and very realistic dildos. Gloria, a long time ago agreed to try the training program we developed. The dildos are based on a new polymer my husband's company invented. It's being developed for patients who are impotent. Unlike the dildos you've seen before, this is different. It responds to the touch. It feels warm to the touch, it is soft and becomes harder as it is stroked and most importantly, it feels identical to the real thing. We invented it to supplant our husbands who are practicing abstinence - shall we say. In spite of this, we found some woman still have difficulty with a plastic cock. They feel its unnatural. Through hypnosis, we have been able to get your wife to enjoy her toys to the same extent and even more than any man could hope to give her. We still had one problem. Although it's nice to masturbate or as we call it intercourse in absentia, it's still, a do it yourself proposition. In those cases when your wife, would like you to do all the work, we have this. She lifted what looked like a dildo attached to a strange pair of briefs. These fit like a second skin over your chastity belt. In case you haven't noticed, cuddling up to you with that belt on can be uncomfortable. This fits over the belt and provides a smooth, soft covering for the belt. The dildo which is attached, is a special design. Gloria, if you will do the honors. Gloria, took the dildo and started to give in a blow job. I then noticed it had balls attached which swung like the real thing. Then I realized it was expanding and getting longer. Suddenly, I could feel my cock trying to harden. That could be my cock I thought. It was really big now and the tip was expanding. Gloria, was half smiling and half sucking. She was squeezing the balls and stroking it as the balls suddenly seemed to tighten and pulse. Gloria, removed the cock from her mouth as what looked like cum, spurt from the tip of the cock. The damn thing came. My mouth dropped open. Don't worry, it's artificial cum. In fact it comes is several flavors. Gloria, Ms. K and Ms. M just broke apart laughing. Maybe you would like to try someday. We even have cum flavored cum. I got my husband to try it one day. I told him I hadn't loaded it, he got a hell of a surprise. So now you know why Gloria has been so content without you. Gloria can keep you in the chastity belt for a long, long time and when she is certain that you can be trusted to put it back on, then and only then will she consider letting you please her with your cock.

Now, we haven't forgotten about you totally. We realize that we have to provide some outlet for your sexual needs. Gloria, has been instructed in the use of some special things just for you, as a reward. Judging by my husband's reaction to it, it must me pretty good. In fact, he said, it makes it last so much longer and since he doesn't have to concentrate on my needs first, he prefers it over regular intercourse, on the rare occasions I have allowed him that treat. Gloria and you will learn the best techniques that work for both of you.

May I ask about this Chastity Belt Roulette. You are learning nicely Michael. Respect, for all woman, it's important. We still have a half an hour before dinner. We have some time. Very well. Each week, as I said, we have a special party. We have fifteen members of our organization. Carefully screened wives and husbands who meet certain requirements. She went on the explain about how the group was formed and how they all had husbands in similar situations. During the evening the husbands cater to all the wives. They are responsible for the food, drinks. Everything your wife used to worry about and take care of. We all discuss the weeks events and especially we enjoy talking openly about our sex lives. For women who never talked about it before, we make it a point to discuss, the most intimate details. How, someone found a new position to masturbate, or how someone did it in her office without anyone seeing her. Some women enjoy trying to get there husbands sexually turned on and let them suffer or get them to give oral sex in unusual places. Ms. M. actually got her husband so convinced he could have real intercourse, if he would greet her at the door dressed in a satin teddy and carry her to their couch. He had to suck each toe through her pantyhose, remove her hose and panties and give her oral sex. Sounds great, and she knew he always wanted to have sex as soon as she came home and he got annoyed that she wanted to freshen up first. Well, when he put his head up her skirt and smelled her feminine odor after a full day of work and a hot train ride home, he pulled back. He now appreciates why she wanted to freshen up. But, it now seems she enjoys a before dinner orgasm, a prepared bath, dinner and evening of leisure. Oh, how I tend to rattle on about such things. Usually the men get so quiet when we talk about them. Oh yes, Chastity Belt Roulette.

First, each player, has had to have worn his chastity belt for no less than six months consecutive. The women, after discussing the events of the week, vote for the husband who they feel best served his wife. The lucky husband is selected by a majority. If we can't get a majority we make up things for them to do, or invent games to win points. Last month, we tried a new game. Each couple took a different room and the first husband to bring his wife to orgasm won. The only thing was that each wife inserted a tampon first and the husband had to remove it with his mouth and then keep it his mouth their while he serviced his wife. It was like trying to whistle after eating crackers. Two husbands were really surprised to find their wives were having their period. One of them actually finished first and we let him play roulette. The other one, I guess he's been in his belt over a year now. Once we have a contestant, we bring out the roulette wheel. The wheel has prizes instead of numbers. There are ten prizes. Eight are real and two are the booby prizes. So your chances are good to win a prize. Four of the eight prizes are the numbers 2 (the most sought after prize), 4, 6, and 8. They represent the number of weeks until your wife must take off your chastity belt and allow you intercourse or oral sex. It's your choice. You can see why the men enjoy the game. The other four prizes vary from week to week. Usually it's a - well special blow job. Gloria will tell or rather I think show you that. Or a day off from all your duties. The right to say no once. Maybe, permitting you 5 minutes alone without your chastity belt in the bathroom. The men always come out smiling. There have been so many I lose track. But I guarantee they are all nice prizes for someone who hasn't had any lately.

What are the booby prizes? With all good things a little rain must fall. They change from week to week. A typical one is to suck off your wife's dildo and hope she used the chocolate flavored cum. A recent addition is to take an enema with a Bardex nozzle, so you can't expel it, then you and your wife go off to a bedroom. You can't expel the enema until your wife comes. Some wives can really hold back. Some of the woman enjoy oral sex during their period and if it's their husband who is playing, they will put that one the wheel. Usually the wife can select one special booby prize she knows the husband hates. My husband John simply hates when I have him wear pantyhose. So I use that one. A recent addition is an entire day without bathroom privileges. Since no one can hold it back, especially when someone slipped a diuretic into your drink, you'll have to wear diapers. It isn't too bad until they have to defecate. They hate cleaning the mess, especially with the chastity belt.

Enough of this, it's time for dinner.

I served dinner and was surprised to be invited to sit with the ladies after everyone was served. We discussed my new life and how if I looked upon it in the right light, it really was a pretty good deal compared to what I stood to lose. I still had all my luxuries and I could enjoy them. The only thing I gave up was control of my cock. It was now my wife's property. Except for occasional punishments, it wasn't all that bad. Which made the rewards and real sex all the more exciting. I kept wondering, what was this special blow job Ms. K. spoke about.

After cleaning the dishes, I prepared a bath for Gloria. After she bathed I was allowed to remove my day clothes and slip into a delightfully soft cotton, Victorian nightgown. Compared to the corset and heels. It was heaven. I even got to remove my breasts. What a relief. I served the woman drinks as we chatted around the fireplace. Ms. K. said that I obviously was well prepared for this and felt my next three weeks would run smoothly.

Ms. K. then proceeded to explain why they were here. Gloria needed help training you and they all needed to be certain I was controllable. Also, they believed in a very open sex life. They relished discussing it among themselves. Something women seldom did before. They adhered to a strict code. Although they might indulge in sex in each others presence, it wasn't overtly open to viewing. They generally wore long loose skirts or covered themselves with a sheet or blanket if a husband was servicing them. Orgasm was openly invited and accepted as normal. It wasn't unusual for all of the woman to sit and watch a video while their husbands provided orgasm after orgasm. But always under a cover. While orgasm was considered natural, displaying their bodies was not. They were proper in that way. The men on the other hand were on display at all times. They were exposed if the wife wanted it. But since the chastity belt covered just about everything but the ass, there wasn't much to see. Only the husband and wife could come in sexual contact. Even two wives would not share one husband. They believed in total faithfulness and anything less was against everything they stood for. With that, Ms. K and Ms. M retired for the evening.

Gloria told me to clean up the kitchen and come up stairs to her bedroom. As I entered her room, she told me to put on the dildo briefs and climb into bed. She laid back and I knew she wanted me to eat her. I felt strange having a cock dangle beneath me again. Gloria reached several rather loud orgasms. I felt funny, knowing the other woman could hear so easily. Then Gloria whispered in my ear, she wanted me to enter her. I almost forgot, it wasn't my cock doing the entering, as I brought her legs up. It felt strange, I felt I needed to come. My own cock strained at its harness. I whispered to Gloria, Please, let me cum. There was no answer. I directed the dildo to her opening. She spread her lips. But the cock my still soft. It's not hard, I said. Well make it hard. You want me to masturbate a dildo?. I felt like a fool, jerking off this dildo. As I stroked it, it started to respond. It was almost scary, it like I was jerking off some else's cock. Something else started to happen. The entire tip started to secrete a lubrication. My hand was slippery as it expanded and lengthened to its fullest. I could not believe its length. This was bigger than mine. I felt totally betrayed. My wife wanted me to fuck her with a dildo bigger than my own cock. My attention with the dildo was snapped back to Gloria, when she said, hurry up. I bent over her and guided it in. I thought for an instant to drive it in fast. To hurt her. But before the idea passed, she said, slow, very slow. I want to feel only the tip moving in and out. Good, now a little deeper. More, Yes, that's it. Deeper. Now all the way in and out. Good. Keep going. She was telling me every step. All the way, slowly. Now hold it there. Now, massage my clit, softly, like I showed you. That's it. Faster. Now fuck me faster. More. Keep going. Yes, Yes. Uhhhhh. Yes. Faster. All the way in and out. Keep going. Don't stop. I'm cumming. She screamed like I had never heard her. I stopped for an instant thinking I hurt her. Don't stop she screamed at me. Her body was arched off the bed as wave after wave of orgasm struck. My back ached as she demanded more. I was on the breaking point as she said to stop. I lay there exhausted for an instant, when she said. Lick my pussy, I feel sticky. I didn't say anything as this wasn't the time. I crept between her legs and smelled that wonderful pussy juice. I licked her thighs and pussy, like a cat. She rolled over and said, now my ass. I hesitated. I couldn't. She waited a moment and said, well! Gloria, anything, but that. Honey, I promise you I'm clean. Either you service me, or this whole thing is over now. I held my anger back and proceeded to gingerly tongue her ass. I has licked almost the entire ass, when she said, to get her opening. It was still sticky. I licked and even tongued the opening. She just went mmmmmmmmmmmm and said, now get me a warm wash cloth and wash and dry me where you licked. I got up, to realize my cock, uhhh, dildo was still hard and my real cock was aching unbelievably. Honey, can't I at least relieve myself. I did everything you asked. Just get the wash cloth. I got the wash cloth and wash and dried her body. In the process she said, I should do something about my cock. Thank God. Where is the key I said. Not that cock. My dildo cock. The one that is hard, stupid. Come on masturbate it for me. I continued to control myself. I pumped it as fast as I could, but it didn't come. She started to giggle. Coyly, she said, Michael, it doesn't come unless you squeeze the balls. Here hold it up like this and let me show you. She reached between my legs and with one squeeze it came. Straight into my face. She broke out hysterically. I swear I could hear the other woman giggle. I should have warned you first I guess. My poor little husband. Come here. Now sit down. Let me wipe some of this nasty cum off your face. She took her finger and scooped up some from my face. Here, lick my finger. It's cherry today. Her attitude had changed and I felt maybe she was finally softening. I took her finger in my mouth and sucked it off. It was salty and smelled like cum. As I paused, knowing she knew what I discovered, she said, just wanted you to know what it tasted like. Michael you have been so good today. Although I was going to wait until tomorrow, I will surprise you with it tonight. Remember the special blow job. Well, if you will climb into bed and get on all fours I'll get it ready.

This I had to see. Could she be ready to remove the belt I wondered. All this service may have been worth it. I waited. No peeking she said. I heard something being moved and a hose being dragged. Then a soft humming. What is it I asked. Just wait. Now hold still. She was attaching something to the end of the sheath holding my cock. It felt cold then wet. Now hold still. What was that I asked. Just some lubricant. Then she took what ever was on the end of the sheath off and put something else on. Finally she said, now we are ready. I started it real slow. You will feel a pulling and pushing. Just relax. I'm told it's really mind blowing, but you have to grow used to it. She flipped some switch as I peeked around my ass which was still stuck up in the air. Something started to pull, by cock down its sheath. All most to the point of uncomfortable. Then it stopped. Then it was pushed back in. It felt like it was stuck in a tube being sucked one way then the other. Gloria, is this it? But Gloria, I can't get hard. Michael, just relax. Here, put these pillows under your stomach and relax. I felt the sensation increase in strength and speed. I was starting to feel like I wanted to cum. My balls ached. Pulling and pushing. I was attached to a vacuum cleaner. Was this the special blow job. Gloria, I need to cum. Please. The cum was starting to be sucked right out of me. I was half cumming. Almost at the edge, but unable to cum. I tried to cum. But it wouldn't happen. Then I felt a Gloria place her hand on my ass and finger my ass hole. When she found the opening, I said, Gloria and started to turn. Michael. Stay right as you are. Just relax. Her finger stopped at the opening. It kept probing, but my asshole remained shut. Please let me cum. My balls ached and my cum continued to be sucked from me. My cock was being sucked back and forth inside the sheath, trying to expand. Suddenly, Gloria's finger entered me. It was so sudden, I didn't have time to stop it. I was going crazy from the sucking and her finger. I had to cum. Somehow. Gloria, went deeper. It was strange, I felt I needed to shit. My mind was racing. This had to stop and I needed to cum. My mind wondered from the agony and ecstacy of my cock being suck and restrained. Then she pushed real deep. I shuddered, lost in the sensations. She touched something deep inside my ass. It felt like I reached an orgasm. I felt cum gushing through my cock being sucked from me. It was incredible. My balls ached and the sucking started to really hurt. Gloria, switched off the machine and everything came to a stop. I collapsed, totally exhausted. I was half crying from relief. Relief from the long prolonged orgasm, the pain, and the intrusion in my asshole. As I rolled over in tears, I saw three faces. Gloria, Ms. M. and Ms. K. I could not believe they had witnessed this. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. I was angry beyond belief.

Don't be angry, Gloria said. I couldn't believe her. Gloria, Ms. K. proceeded, he isn't used to it and us yet. Gloria, needed our guidance. Getting you to cum, with the "Cum Buster" as we call it, isn't easy for first time users. With time it is a lot easier and even better. For now, its the only way you can cum, unless you prefer total abstinence. That is fairly easy to arrange you know. You have to get used to others enjoying your pleasure and pain. Ms. K. unscrewed a small jar from the Cum Buster and left with Ms. M. I take care of this tonight for you and shut the lights. Gloria, climbed into bed and kissed my forehead. Michael, I want you to sl**p alone tonight and think it all over. I got up and went to my

Part 3

As I lay in bed, I reviewed the day's events over and over in my mind. It became clear. I could live with the sexual demands Gloria made upon me and even the petty services, such as bath duties and fetching things, but two things concerned me. I could not accept being made to service Gloria in front of other men and more importantly, I could not live with sex with a vacuum cleaner.

I do have to admit it was the most mind blowing experience and her finger up my ass drove me insane. A man needed to be fully erect and fuck a warm, wet pussy. Is it worth giving up my career and my life style? If I don't try now, I'll never forgive myself later.

Quietly, I slipped out of bed. Luckily I had hid some spare clothes in the car and had hid a spare key to the car in my shoe. I found the keys I hid under the mattress. I sneaked down the stairs in my nightgown without awakening anyone. The boots and coats I had spotted earlier had been moved and no where to be found easily. I would get warm once I was back in the car.

Getting the door open without making a sound, proved to be more difficult than I thought. It took forever to open it enough for me to squeeze without it squeaking too much. I reached the car and was glad when the door opened. Almost home. I reached under the driver seat for the spare ignition key and found a small note instead. I turned on the interior light and read it.

Dear Michael, Did you really think we had planned all of this and not thought about you trying to escape. The key to the car is on the kitchen table. The front door is locked by now, so don't bother trying to come back in. We suggest you think about it tonight and if you still want to leave, you may pick up the keys tomorrow morning at 9 AM and drive where ever you want, except home.

P.S. It gets rather chilly at night. Just in case you get too cold, we also left you a surprise. There is a hose line in the back seat, if you attach it to your sheath and plug in the adapter hanging from the dashboard, it will start up the "Cum Buster" in the trunk. When you get cold enough, an electric heater will come on for 5 minutes for each ounce of cum you deposit. Pleasant dreams.

Without a watch the night passed slowly. I could not tell how close to dawn it was, but I tried to keep my self as warm as possible. Finally, freezing I caved in. I attached the hose to the sheath and plugged it in. The sucking started, but without the lubrication it was more like sandpaper than a soft pussy. Try as I might, I could not get much cum. I quickly figured that a good cum was maybe 1 ounce. Judging by the orgasm I had earlier this evening, I didn't think I had much more to give. I took off the hose and put as much saliva into the sheath as I could get and then reattached it. I started to ooze more now, but I needed to cum. I got on all fours and stuck my finger in my asshole. Somehow it wasn't as bad as I thought. I probed and felt, but it did not feel the same as when Gloria did it. I thought back to that experience. The Cum Buster sucking and Gloria fingering me. I could feel my cum flowing now. I was closer to orgasm. Just a little more. Suddenly, the heat came on. Warmth! I have to keep this going. I somehow got the finger in deeper. The Cum Buster started to speed up. I was gyrating, humping my own finger. I needed more lubrication, but I was afraid if I stopped to get more saliva on my cock, I would lose it. My cock started to burn, but I needed more cum. The heater went off and it seemed forever before it turned back on. I just kept fucking my ass with my finger and trying to think of Gloria's wonderful pussy. I could taste her pussy juice. I loved lapping her cunt, feeling her tense up, shudder, over and over again. Why did I ever fuck around. If I could do it over again, I'd be different.

The sudden light jolted me back to reality. The door opened letting in daylight. Gloria, Ms. K. and Ms. M were standing there. I was hunched up in the rear seat, still fucking my ass. My cock was raw by now and totally numb. I just lay still, realizing my predicament. The evening had passed, I must have fucked myself for over six hours as it was 9 AM. Gloria asked if I was O.K. I was afraid to move. Eventually, they got me to come with them. Ms K. was holding that jar she removed from the Cum Buster. My cock burned. I pleaded with them to let me remove the chastity belt and let me take care of my cock. They provided me with blankets and some coffee. It was like they cared. Gloria applied medication to my cock with the chastity belt in place. It felt cool and stopped the burning. I cried like a baby. After that we had a long talk. All four of us. They were human and cared.

After a warm bath and breakfast, Gloria instructed me to get dressed as I had done yesterday. I came down dressed in the corset, stockings, bra, bloomers, camisole and a very full Victorian style dress with five petticoats. The bloomers were strange as they weren't closed at the crotch. Ms. K. told me, Victorian women did not undress for the toilet. The bloomers separated instead. We sat down and discussed whether I wanted to leave or continue the remainder of my training.

It was Ms. K. who made it so simple. I would forever wear the chastity belt except for very special treats. Six days a week were to be almost normal. I would continue my business as usual. Upon arrival home from work I would have access to all life luxuries with my wife. After dinner, when the maid and cook were off duty, I would take over for both of them, plus any other service demanded by Gloria. On Saturday, the routine would continue, except I would have my day off. After dinner we would depart for the party. On Sunday my duties would start at 7 AM. I would take care of Gloria's needs first, then clean up the maid's and cook's room. I would do any laundry required. The rest of the day was up to Gloria.

When she was finished I could not help myself, but agree. It was as fair as I could expect. The alternative was less desirable. Just to reinf***e her point. She showed my a video tape of me dressing yesterday and today, Gloria finger fucking my ass and being attached to the "Cum Buster." Then I was startled to see me hunched up in the back of my car, sticking my finger up my own ass and humping the air. If any pictures of that were to get public, I would be ruined. Under the circumstances, I could learn to enjoy the Cum Buster and Gloria's finger up my ass as much as sex used to be like.

Now that we have decided your future. It's time for lunch. while you prepare it, we have some activities to arrange for Gloria and you. I disappeared into the kitchen. I did always enjoy gourmet cooking and now I had a reason to practice it.

While I was busy cooking, Ms. K. and Ms. M. were busy discussing my training with Gloria. It seems Gloria had many lessons to practice. She had to learn to control me and use me most effectively for her enjoyment. Something that did not always come naturally to many women. She also had to become used to the idea that sex was to be openly discussed and husbands were openly displayed. It was totally natural and considered normal to have a husband providing oral service in the presence of the other ladies provided her private parts were covered. Screaming and moaning were welcome of course. Normal intercourse was to be performed in private, but openly discussed. Intercourse could be accomplished many ways, with a dildo performed by oneself, by your husband manually, and by attaching the dildo chastity belt cover or mouth, or even conventionally if you allow him to remove his chastity belt. It seemed the basic guideline was anything was acceptable if the female genitals remained hidden. Gloria had to learn to at least practice many different training and punishment techniques. A varied menu of techniques kept the relationship interesting and prevented the husband and the wife from becoming bored. As I was to provide total service for her, it was easy to fall into a steady routine.

Gloria had to become acquainted with cross dressing me, something that has already been started, enemas, diapering, dildo training, male menstruation techniques and vaginal and asshole worship. I had to be trained to provide oral service at any time of the month. Many women found this difficult and Ms. K. had several suggestions for making the idea easier to practice. Each week the ladies would discuss for hours new techniques and ideas they had. They would perfect them and report back on the results. Some insidious but harmless ideas were invented in this way. Unknown to me, these next weeks would be full of Gloria practicing them on me.

After lunch, my first lesson started. It was simple at first. Gloria was laying on the couch with long flowing nightgown of a heavy sweatsuit type material. It was unusual in that it appeared to be closed at the bottom, like a large bubble with her legs appearing out of two elastic openings. There was a third elastic opening in between her legs. Gloria, smiled at me and said, she would like oral service. I stuck my head into the hole and discovered a dark and musky smell. She obviously was very wet. Her body was already very warm. I inched up to her crotch and proceeded to tongue her. I could feel the wetness on her cunt and thighs. She told be to lick her clean first. I could hear Gloria, Ms. K. and Ms. M. talking about their husbands and how they serviced them. Ms. K. was talking about how her husband could get his tongue several inches into her cunt. It was if I wasn't there. Gloria, then told me she wanted to sit on my face. It wasn't easy, but I somehow managed to arrange for her to sit on my face. I was laying with my back on the couch and my legs up in the air against the back of the couch. Gloria, was now facing my legs. She obviously preferred this as she started to grind her cunt into my mouth and started to moan. She was also becoming even wetter, if that were possible. It was difficult to breath and I had to time her humping to my breathing. All this sexual contact still had its affect on me. I could feel bl**d pumping to my cock, but the raw skin from last night f***ed me to think of other things. Then I felt Gloria's finger at my ass hole. She started gently. Pushing ever so slightly. Finally she got it in a little and started to finger fuck me. When I could feel it going in and out easily, she started to work in a second finger. It burned as she tried to stretch my opening. She stopped for a moment as she came to another climax. My face was soaked from her pussy juice and sweat. My hair was matted down as well. She continued probing with two fingers until even they worked their way in. I could hear Ms. K. giving directions every now and then. Twist them this way. Pause, Now push gently. Rotate them. Good. I was getting really tired by now and my tongue was aching, but Gloria kept humping my face. Gloria, pulled her fingers out and then something larger and more round was pushed firmly against my asshole. She twisted it and pushed. It suddenly popped in place and stopped. It was bigger than anything I had felt. Then Gloria seemed to concentrate on herself. She sped up her humping as she neared yet another climax. This kept building. She was slamming herself into my face. I licked her clit trying to get her to cum. Finally, she came with a spurt, then a pulsing stream of pussy juice, like I had never seen. It gagged me. I had to swallow to breath. She slumped over the couch. I needed air desperately. After several long minutes she told me to lick her clean again. I licked as much as I could reach and then she rolled over onto the couch.

Ms. K told me to get a warm wash cloth and finish cleaning Gloria. I pulled my head out and was met with the sweetest, freshest breath of air I ever tasted. I was drenched in pussy juice and sweat from the hair to my shoulders. When I returned I tried clean Gloria with my hand through the opening, but she told me to get my head in there and to do it right. I had to slip my hands in through the same opening as Gloria's legs. The odor almost made me pass out. The entire inside of the nightgown was drenched. Gloria told me to prepare a bath for her. My dress was totally drenched from the waist up and smelled like Gloria did inside. It was then that I realized I still had something up my ass. Gloria instructed me not to remove it until she was bathed and had dressed. I will remove your butt plug at that time. The plug at first wasn't too uncomfortable, but by the time Gloria finished her bath and dressed, it felt like a telephone pole. I was relieved when she told me to pull it out and take a bath. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, except Gloria used a small dildo on herself as I lay next to her. She came to several small orgasms and fell asl**p shortly after kissing me goodnight.

The next day my cock was still sensitive from my night in the car, Gloria, Ms. K. and Ms. M. decided it was better to wait for my cock to heal, before subjecting it to any additional stimulation. Therefore, they chose to initiate me in several forms of play and punishment techniques. Gloria, would also become more comfortable with her new role. She found it strange at times, to make me suffer for her amusement. My next lesson was to continue dildo training. Their goal was to train me to cum in my chastity belt while be fucked with a dildo strapped to Gloria. The morning passed quickly as I serviced Gloria orally and using my tongue and once with a dildo that attached to my mouth.

The afternoon, was actually pleasant. I served refreshments and attended to the laundry, I was reminded what I had to do. Ms. M. was having her period, judging by the stained panties. She made special mention to give her panties special hand washing. I washed and pressed all their clothes by hand. My own dress ruined from the earlier service to Gloria was also hand washed. I was growing rather tired and I assumed dinner would be requested shortly. Gloria, called for me to come up to the bathroom. All three ladies were present and I did not like what they had in mind. Hanging from the shower curtain rod was an enema bag with a long hose and a strange looking enema nozzle. It was long and had what appeared to be two deflated balloons on it. Gloria, said it is time I was cleansed better. I asked what type of enema this was, but was silenced. I was told to undress completely. It felt great getting out of the corset and remove the fake tits.

I bent over the tub and allowed her to insert the nozzle. It was bulky, but not as bad as the butt plug. She then started to squeeze one of the bulbs. I felt the balloon inside me inflate, creating a full feeling. Then she inflated the outer balloon. My asshole was now trapped between two balloons. She released the water. I felt the water rush into me. Ms. K, said to slow down the rate. It flowed until I felt it cramp. I told Gloria, I was full and needed to go. I was told to relax, I have more to go. Little did I know I was going to get a series of four enemas. The first was only a quart of warm soapy water. The second was one and a half quarts of warm clear water. The third was two quarts of warm water. The first two were kept inside me for 15 minutes. The third enema was left in for nearly 30 minutes. The fourth enema was another warm and large one. Once the nozzle, they called a Double Bardex was inflated, I could not expel. After the fourth enema was in, Gloria removed the two bulbs used to inflate the balloons and disconnected the hose from the enema bag. I now had the Bardex nozzle half hanging from my asshole. The two quarts of water also placed a tremendous pressure on me to expel it, which I could not. They told me to only put my bra and dress back on and come downstairs with them. I walked very slowly. They sat down on the couch and told me to prepare dinner.

Dinner took two hours to prepare. I was in agony the last hour. The only position which provided some relief was to lay flat on my back. While serving dinner, Gloria whispered to Ms. K. something, her response was, he can take a little more my dear. The cramps were quite severe and it was obvious I had could not take much more. I completed serving and was told to relieve myself. But before I return I should insert the butt plug they left for me in the bathroom. This plug was a little different. It had a small hole from one end to the other. I inserted it and went back downstairs. There was a single glass of what looked like a chocolate milk shake at my place setting. Michael, for several days after your enema, you will be on a liguid diet. Enjoy.

The evening went fairly quickly. I serviced Gloria once again on the couch while they watched TV. She was tired and had two small climaxes. After the last one, Gloria had me get on all fours and inserted a small tube into the butt plug. She used a small enema bag to f***e some liquid into my asshole. She had me lay with my legs raised for 15 minutes with the liguid in my ass. When she finally told me to get on all fours agin, I felt no desire to relieve myself. I only felt a bloated feeling. Then she proceeded to inject a second liguid. It could not have been very much as I couldn't feel it. They she used a small cork to plug the hole.

Gloria, then held me in her arms and told me she loved me. As an extra sign of love she had given me something, I always loved giving her. She had injected 8 ounces of my own cum into my asshole. Before we went to bed she would remove the plug and it would drip out slowly. She picked up what looked like a diaper and plastic panties and said, You'll be needing these tonight. Just to be certain you don't stain the bed. I took the diaper and panty, I saw that both Ms. M and Ms. K were smiling and went upstairs. Before I reached my door, Gloria called up. You'll sl**p in my room tonight dear.

I slept like a baby that night, and woke up with a wet bottom. The cum had dripped out all night and was a sticky gooey mess. I took care of my morning duties and had breakfast ready for the late sl**pers. I had found that my cock had healed quite nicely by now and actually felt rather comfortable in the sheath. Later that day Gloria, Ms. M and Ms. K introduced me to mechanical prostrate stimulation. Gloria was educated in the use of a thin mechanical prostrate probe. It provided intense sensations of orgasms and copious cum oozing from my trapped cock. Strangely, each time I came Gloria was very careful to either attach the Cum Buster to suck up my cum or even attach a condom to the end of the sheath to catch the cum. It became a ritual for her to carefully collect and take away my cum. As if she were savoring my last bit of manliness. After a particularly long oral service, Ms. K. returned with a baster from the kitchen and removed the cum collection bottle from the Cum Buster, which now had several ounces of my cum. She carefully sucked up the entire bottle and equally carefully had Gloria recline while Gloira squeezed the contents inside her cunt. Ms. M. turned to me and in a loud voice demanded I clean Gloria. The though of my cum dripping out of her made me gag. But, Ms. M and Ms. K. had this look which said I had better snap to it. I licked the few drips and tasted my own slippery saltiness. I tried to swallow to get the taste out of my mouth, but before I had much time I felt a sting on my ass. Ms. K. had struck with a paddle. She said to clean Gloria and that meant inside and outside. I spent the next 15 minutes trying to lick Gloria clean. Each time I thought I was done, she seemed to ooze yet more cum. By the time I was finished, I was totally unaware of the taste of the cum and Gloria seemed to enjoy sitting up to allow the cum to drip out slowly.

Later that evening, the women were whispering quite a bit and Gloria seemed uneasy. I could see she was unhappy about something. It was almost 2 AM that Gloria called me downstairs where I was enjoying a rest alone. Gloria was alone and sitting on a large old bath towel wearing the outfit with elastic leg openings and a single elastic opening between the legs. I expected Gloria wanted some oral sex before retiring. Gloria looked at me and said, she had to do this, but felt uneasy about it. I'm having my period. It started earlier this evening and Ms. K. told me to wait until the flow increased. I want you to service me. Further, you will service me all night, making sure to awaken every hour and clean me with your tongue. I looked into to her eyes and begged her not to ask this. She looked away. I took a deep breath and plunged into her nightgown. I had never experience an odor this strong. In the past I had gotten a whiff of her discharge during her period, but never this much or that strong. After the cum experience, I didn't gag, and never really tasted her period. Maybe I was immune from eating so much cum and pussy juice these last several days. I guess I was suddenly knocked back to reality after what seemed forever when Gloria started to arch her back. She had been fairly quiet, gently moving her hips from time to time. Now she suddenly, seemed to be getting turned on. I found her clit and attacked it, she convulsed several times. Then she started to really moan loudly. Soon she was thrashing her hips so I had a difficult time staying with her. I expected her to climax and rest, but she only increased her rhythm still further. She peaked, I felt her arch her back and scream. Louder than she had ever and certainly louder than with Ms. K or Ms. M around. She didn't stop. One orgasm flowed into another. I lost track, but she continued with intense orgasms one after another. My jaw ached, yet she demanded I continue. Only when she collapsed on the couch could I rest. It was dark and very musky. I couldn't see if she was still bleeding, so I gave small licks to her vulva just to be sure. She gave a small moan each time. It seems hours later, when she told me to come out. The lights were out. She said we would go upstairs. Up stairs I startled myself in the mirror. My face had dark red smears from my neck and into my hair. Gloria, lay on the bed on a large old towel and told me to climb between her legs. But before I did she inserted that but plug with a small hole in it and a had me put on a diaper. I was to awaked each hour and lick her vulva clean.

Near morning I felt a wetness in my diaper. Strange since Gloria hadn't put any cum up my ass. I climbed out of bed and into the bathroom to see why I felt wet. I was bl**dy. I ran into the bedroom and awoke Gloria. I'm bleeding, you must have tore my rectum. Darling, you're perfectly fine. It's just your period. What the hell are you talking about. Michael, your first period is always upsetting. Sit down and let me explain. First, remember the small enema I gave you after dinner tonight. Well, it never came out remember. That was a special liguid designed to coat your cleaned colon. It forms a thick coat on your colon and takes about a day to slowly disolve away. That is what looks like bl**d. The butt plug with the hole ensures that you can't stop the flow. The liquid diet makes sure you have nothing else in there for several days. Some additional wetness is needed to make it somewhat more uncomfortable. In your drink tonite was a diruetic which has the strange effect of making you urinate in small dribbles in between when you really have to urinate. The bl**dy mess leaking from your ass mixed with the urine is quite realistic looking. The process takes about 5 days. Now we can enjoy our periods together. I am surprised you haven't felt any cramps. Usually the diurectic gives the men cramps also. Gloria, I have them also, but under the circumstances, I didn't think to mention it. Now, back in bed, the diaper will take care of your period. You need to take care of mine.

Chapter 4

Every afternoon and every evening there during her period I provided oral service to Gloria. She discovered the once she overcame her inhibitions about oral service during her period, the increased hormonal activity intensified her orgasms and she would forever look forward to her period.

The next evening Gloria and I lay together as if nothing had changed. We talked about old memories, about our wedding and we drifted onto our wedding night. Gloria, commented how the nightgown she had chosen for me that night, was a white and lacy just like her that honeymoon night. At that moment Gloria, reached down as if to feel my cock, but instead, stopped at my anus. It felt funny, having her slowly stroke the area. I sucked her tits as she continued to probe me. She bent over the bed and retrieved a jar of vaseline. She lubricated her finger and without saying a word, continued to probe me. Trying to pry open my anus. She whispered for me to relax. It was somehow different this time. Her finger although smaller than the butt plug, seemed more real and I felt tense at her touch. Slowly she managed to get her finger inside and it felt more comfortable in this strange position. Gloria, fingering my asshole, while I lay passive. I almost began to feel relaxed with her finger moving slowly in and out, when she rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed. She reached down and seemed to be stepping into something. As she brought it up to her waist, I could see it was my dildo pants. It was obscene on her. A huge cock stood obliquely away from her body. Horror struck me as I realized what she had in mind.

Gloria, you can't. It's too big. Please, it will hurt. With a gentlenes, she held my head and told me she would be very gentle as I was on our honeymoon night. I want you to lay on your back and let me fasten your hands to these leather harnesses, which she proceeded to pull up from behind the headboard. As she tightened the second harness around my wrist, I was shaking. Now I want you to raise your legs up real high and bring them up over your head. I swung them up and Gloria proceeded to fasten them to a second set of leather harnesses she pulled from behind the headboard. I was now in a very awkward position. My ass was high in the air, totally vulnerable. Gloria positioned herself behind me and slowly started to work a smaller dildo into my ass. She was patient and allowed me to relax my sphincter until it didn't hurt anymore. She removed the dildo and inserted a basting tool filled with a thick substance and squeezed it inside me. Just some cum and vaseline mixture honey. She took some more vaseline and lubricated the dildo protruding from her. It seemed larger now, glistening as if cum was oozing from its thick head. She pressed it gently against my anus. She massaged it between the cheeks of my ass and against my sphincter. Always pressing a little harder each time. It was if she had been taught the art of fucking a virgin asshole. The pressure gave way to a burning as she stretched my opening. My complaints received only a gentle word of encouragement to relax. I tried not to fight anymore, I dreamed of me fucking Gloria. Our honeymoon, those long sessions of sex. Fucking and sucking. I remember fucking her for hours. She was so tight back then. My daydream ended as I realized that Gloria was deep inside me. It was her first thrust all the way the snapped the dream. I felt full like I had to take a shit. I was worried I would. Then this sudden feeling of emptiness as she pulled it out. She seemed to find a rhythm as she thrust in and out. I remember I would watch her face and listen to her moans to know how to fuck her. As she neared her peak, I would go faster with shorter strokes, that always brought her over the top. I preferred long deep thrusts, in and out to bring me to climax. I wandered what was driving her. I wasn't giving her hints what to do, if I could cum. Did she really feel some sexual turnon. Her rhythm was picking up now. She was breathing harder and sweating. She seemed lost in her own thoughts, like I wasn't really there. She was visibly tired and she was obviously straining to go faster, with shorter strokes. She started to moan, not from being tired, but from pleasure. She was actually enjoying this and getting a sexual turn on. My ass felt totally invaded and somehow not in my possession anymore. Her moaning increased and her rhythm increases yet again. The pressure in my ass as she thrust in was enormous only to feel like my inside were being pulled out as she pulled out. My whole genital area was sensitized and tingle. It spread up my spine and to my chest. Gloria, was straining at her limits to fuck my ass faster as she was starting to let out shrieks of pleasure. In a few seconds she thrust her dildo deep inside me and held totally still, her back arched, her face tense with ecstasy. She was took tired to scream as her orgasm struck. She collapsed on top of me.

As she finally rolled off me, she looked at me and said. Now I understand how you felt. The power wielded by penetrating someone gave you a sense of control I now have. It's wonderful, but too much work. We'll try it again sometime. Gloria, I asked, did you really get off fucking my ass. She laughed, and stood up on the bed over me. The dildo was red from my fake bl**d. The next time we do this remind me not to do it when your having your period. It's too messy. She pulled the dildo pants down, and as she did a smaller dildo popped from her pussy. Silly, did you really think I could climax by merely fucking your ass. These dildo pants are a little different than yours. As I fuck you, this smaller dildo, expands and fucks me. The faster I go the faster it expands and lengthens. It's like fucking myself, only it uses the pressure your provide to power my little dildo. Honey, I have so many toys to play with now, you can't imagine what they have invented.

Over then next week and a half, Gloria tried every toy out on herself and me. Daily prostrate massages were inorder as Gloria, loved to have me cum, well ooze cum. She also seemed to enjoy squeezing liquids of different consistencies into me. Then plugging me with the dildo with a hole in it. She would love having me wear a sanitary pad, diaper or just let me wet my panties. All in all it wasn't so bad. We fell into a routine eventually, which thankfully left out fucking my ass to often. Gloria, did not really like giving me an enema which always preceeded anal fucking. Our relationship also strengthened as I felt closer to her than I had ever felt in the past. Ms. K and Ms. M sensed my change and became my friends not tormentor. As long as I respected the rules laid down by Gloria, my life, with the exception of orgasm was simpler, less stressful and rather pleasant. I found I didn't mind serving others and I knew that I mainly had to please Gloria.

When the lessons ended, it was sad. We had learned so much about each other. We all kissed and hugged, even though we knew we would see each other in a matter of a week. I even felt funny, corseting up that morning and having Gloria remind me to wear my male clothes that day. She did insist I remain corseted even for the ride home. In fact, she had me wear my heels to get used to driving in them. When we reached home, I e****ted Gloria to the house and returned to unpack our luggage. Gloria was waiting in the den when I finished unpacking the last suitcase. I asked Gloria, what I should wear now. Later honey, I feel tired and haven't climaxed in several hours. I knelt between her legs and found her panties damp. I massaged her feet and sucked each toe. I worked my way up her legs and found her pussy wet and waiting for my tongue. After her climax, without a word I prepared her bath. As she slipped into the tub, she whispered, we need a larger tub. I have some ideas for us. Months have passed and Gloria and I are like newlyweds each day. I drive off to work reminded on my new position in life as chastity belt holds me secure. There is a event each year we are waiting for now.

December 31 is a very special day for the women and their obedient husbands. The evening starts with dinner cooked and served by the husbands of course. After the ladies have completed the meal and the table cleared, we can catch a bite to eat while cleaning up the table and kitchen. It's after dinner that the fun begins. The men are responsible for preparing and serving the munchies and drinks. The women discuss the years events and plan for the coming year. The major difference about tonight is that the women avoid being serviced sexually during the early evening, in preparation for the events to follow. At nine o'clock the men are arranged on a circular table laying down on their backs. They are arranged radially with their heads toward the center and their feet outward and raised. In this position they are in a sitting position on their backs. At the center of the table is a cushioned circular raised center with cushioned rests for knees. This makes it very comfortable for the wives to arrange themselves facing one another, while enjoying oral service from their husbands. However, before they indulge themselves, they add some additional spice to the evenings plans.

Each husband is hooked up to a "Cum Buster" which carefully monitors the amount of cum generated by each husband. The cum is them directed into the collection bottle. Directly behind each husband is a removable pole attached to the table. From the pole hands a two quart enema bag. The hose from the enema bag runs to a small pump. The pump is controlled by the "Cum Buster." The hose continues from the pump to a specially modified Bardex enema nozzle. The Bardex nozzle prevents any enema fluid from leaking out. At the end of the nozzle, deep inside the rectum is a special probe controlled by a knob also located on the pump. The probe remains in contact with the prostrate gland and can provide direct stimulus to the prostrate. This is turn helps promote orgasms which are constantly being teased by the Cum Buster. A liberal dose of lubricant is applied to the penis sheath before the Cum Buster is turned on. When the husbands are secured and ready, the enema pump is turned on. A set flow rate is begun. It is designed so that in three hours, the entire two quarts will be pumped into the husband. The flow is interrupted for 15 minutes whenever the husband deposits one ounce of cum. Given that there are twelve 15 minute intervals from 9 to 12 PM. Each husband would need to deposit 12 ounces of cum in 3 hours. A feat that no one has achieved, thus ensuring that each one receives at least a very sizeable enema. One last detail. The enema pump is required since the enema fluid is a bit unusual. You see, the women collect the cum from the Cum Buster and save much of it over the year. In fact each collects in excess of two gallons. Just to add insult to injury, each husband receives someone elses cum. At the end of the evening, each husband had at least 1 gallon of someone elses cum in him. While the husbands are busy trying to cum, the wives enjoy the party. If a wife feels especially nice, she can even stimulate his prostrate and help him cum, reducing his enema.

At 11:30 PM another event takes place. By now each husband is cramping from the enema and must now provide oral service to his wife. The wives now mount their husbands at precisely 11:30 PM and begin a contest. For 30 minutes the wives compete for the most orgasms. A small sensor inserted within their vaginas monitors the vaginal spasms and bl**d pressure to ensure an accurate orgasm count. The winner with the most orgasms wins a vacation of her choice. In addition, their are consolation prizes for the orgasm closest to 12 midnight, the funniest face during orgasm and the loudest scream. The husband providing the most orgasms is allowed to expel his enema shortly after twelve o'clock. At 12 o'clock the women relax while remaining firmly planted on their husband's tongues and toast the new year with champagne. Each losing husband is allowed to stand holding his enema while the wives refresh themselves and the lucky husbands expels his quart or two of cum. All the husbands are provided a well deserved cocktail. A tall champagne glass filled with his favorite cum. Not until each has drained his glass can be then discuss with his wife his new year resolutions for this year. The wives of course have selected them and discuss his achievements and failures from the previous years. This can take sometime as new resolutions are made and old ones broken are carefully discussed and repledged. This has taken as long as an hour, while holding nearly 2 gallons of a cum enema. By 1 AM each husband has in turn relieved himself. The party continues with each wife looking forward to the new year.

The End ... Continue»
Posted by klammer 10 months ago  |  Categories: BDSM, Fetish, Taboo  |  Views: 1073  |  
63%

Cross-dress dreams come true.

A seductive CD fulfills some of my secret fantasies. And I bring him pleasure into the bargain.

Jeez, you bust your ass all year to be among the top sales people so you can get invited to the annual conference. Supposed to be in Hawaii or Vegas or somewhere exciting. And what happens? The company needs to save some money and holds it in the city where it's based.
Cincinnati. For fuck's sake. I nearly didn't bother but there'd been some lay-offs already this year, so I decided I should go. You have to network.
My wife begged off AND gave me shit that we weren't going somewhere nice. I promised her a trip somewhere when I got back.
So I left her in Houston and went to the conference alone. I wasn't feeling it. I'd lost my company-man enthusiasm.
On the first day, I sat at the back of the auditorium for the rah-rah inspirational bollocks coming from the speakers up front.
Responding to one particular bullshit statement I shook my head, rolled my eyes and groaned.
I heard a chuckle from the guy sitting next to me and looked over. We exchanged 'can you believe this shit' expressions. And then we started a running commentary of snide remarks about the speaker. Making each other laugh. A couple of guys turned around, shushing us.
We shut up. It isn't smart to disrespect the management in a struggling company. But when the current speaker finished and before the next one started I looked over at my co-conspirator, lifted my eyebrows as a question and nodded my head towards the door.
He smiled, nodded and stood. We slipped quietly out of the auditorium and headed for the bar.
We introduced ourselves as we walked. "Hi, I'm Roger" I told him.
"Martin. Pleased to meet you." It wasn't exactly necessary, we were wearing those lame 'Hello I'm...' badges that conference wearers are given.
I noticed several more in the bar. So we weren't the only fugitives from bullshit.
I started in on a diatribe about having to come to Cincinnati, but before I could get up a real head of steam he stopped me.
"Think you have it bad? I live here!"
Well, shit! At least he stopped me before I completely embarrassed myself by trashing his home town.
I sympathized:
"Damn, you don't even get to travel somewhere at all."
"I don't even get to stay in a hotel! Locals just have to commute. Cheap bastards!"
We'd begun to get a bit loud and I noticed a few disapproving looks.
"The Thought Police are in here. We'd better shut up." I said.
"Fuck that, come to my place and we can get properly relaxed and be completely frank about our thoughts."
I agreed and we went down to the garage and he drove us to his home.
It wasn't far, but by the time we got there we'd pretty much covered all the complaints we had about our employer.
So we got inside and he went and got us a couple of beers. And then we sat down and looked at each other in an embarrassed silence.
"So what else shall we talk about?" he asked.
"Sports?"
"In Cincinnati? I might slit my throat."
We just chit-chatted for a while. He was a good talker. Well educated and smart and witty. I was enjoying his company. I kicked off my cowboy boots.
Physically, Martin seemed like just your average guy. Maybe a little shorted than average. Not thin but not excessively fat. He had a nice smile and his ready laughter was contagious.
As the beers relaxed us we eventually got onto the subject of sex.
Somehow it got pretty revealing and I found myself telling Martin some things I'd never told anyone.
I admitted that I'd had fantasies of being with a man dressed as a woman. Even admitted that I sometimes wore panties under my suit.
He wasn't shocked or anything. In fact he was agreeing that it is an exciting thing to do.
"Have you ever actually done anything? With another guy?" he asked me.
"Noooo it's all just fantasy."
"Well it sounds like you're pretty into it."
I had to admit I was.
I told him about how often I jerked off looking at pictures of cross-dressers. The excitement of imagining my hand going up under a skirt and touching a cock there.
"What else would you do?"
I really didn't have a simple answer.
Sometimes I thought about sucking a cock, or just rubbing it through sexy underwear.
Sometimes I imagined a man in a dress bending over for me... me lifting up the hem of his skirt, exposing his panty-clad ass.
I fantasized about burying my face in his ass and then fucking him.
Sometimes I thought about laying back and watching his erect cock, sticking out from a tiny miniskirt.... watching as he climbed between my legs and pushed himself into me.
Sometimes I even thought about bending over the arm of a chair and having a gorgeous 'woman' fuck me roughly in the ass.
It was all exciting.
I shyly admitted all of it to him.
"You really need to live some of your dream, Roger" he said with a grin.
"Yeah, I guess so." If I was openly talking about it, I guess I was ready for the real thing.
"I have an idea." He switched the TV on.
"Give me a few minutes... I'll be back in a little while."
I said OK and he left the room. I just sat there scanning the channels. Found nothing much and settled on an old movie.
I got into the show and didn't notice how much time passed, but it was more than 'a few minutes'. Then I heard Martin come back into the room.
I turned to greet him and was amazed. He was dressed completely as a woman. Wig and makeup clothes and shoes.
And he was hot! Martin had transformed himself... and he was gorgeous.
"Is this what you've been thinking about?"
"Oh fuck! Martin!"
"Call me Martine. What do you think?"
"You're stunning!"
Martin isn't exactly lean.. there's a little flesh on his bones. Turned into Martine, that all became a voluptuous beauty.
He turned around, slowly, on his peek-a-boo spike-heeled shoes.
Through the sheer silk of his stockings I could see the bright red toenails. There hadn't been time for him to do that just now.
Martin was walking around with bright red glossy toenails all the time!
I thought for a second about how erotic that would be. Like when I wore panties under my suit clothes.
I felt a little tickle in my pants. Could actually feel a burst of pre-cum escape from the tip of my cock.
Martine's high-heels gave his calf muscles great definition. Very sexy. Stocking-covered thighs ended almost exactly where his short skirt began. I could just see the clips of his suspender belt behind the hem.
His ass was perfect and womanly. A peach.
Under a silky blouse, Martine wasn't showing an enormous pair of tits, but there was certainly something there. Maybe just enough of himself to shape with a push-up bra into nice little biddies.
His wig was long and blond and tumbled down onto his shoulders. He wore it in such a way as to conceal his face slightly. Like a classic movie temptress.
Lips, now defined by a bright red gloss were full and oh, so kissable.
Martin had obviously shaven very closely and the skin on his face was smooth. There was only a little make up on his cheeks. He had gone to town on the eyes, though. Maybe a little too much. If my wife wore so much I'd probably say something, but here.... who was I to judge?
I was massively attracted.
A slightly pudgy man was now just the most fuckable woman I could imagine.
He turned away and bent over slightly. Oh what an ass! Full and round. And inviting.
Clearly inviting. This wan't just a fashion show.
"Can I come and sit with you?"
"Oh god yes please!"
He sat next to me on the couch.
He turned to me and put his hand on my thigh. Started slowly sliding it up my leg....
I didn't know what to do. This was my fantasy come to life and I just sat there like an idiot.
"Kiss me. I know you want to." Martine said.
He leaned over and put his wonderful red lips on mine. All my inhibitions melted away.
I kissed back. Hard. Took him in my arms.
His hand moved up my leg and I felt him cupping my hardening cock.
He stopped.... was feeling around down there... "Wow, Roger!!!"
I just smiled. Put my lips back on his....
I reached out and touched his thigh as we kissed.
Smooth silk-stocking covered thigh.
I slipped my hand up his leg.
Felt the hem of his dress slide over the back of my hand as I explored higher.
Higher.
His thigh widening under my palm as I moved higher.
He opened his legs slightly as an invitation. I moved my hand further under his dress.
And then my fingers touched soft lace. His panties.
Further. Touching his cock through the thin material.
I traced the outline of his erection with my fingertips and he kissed me more fervently.
Then he broke away from me and looked me in the eye.
I felt him undoing the buckle of my belt....
the button of my trousers....
pulling down my zipper....
I lifted myself off the couch and he tugged my trousers and underwear down.
I kicked them off my ankles.
My cock was hard now.
"Oh my! You're a big boy!"
I smiled up at him.
"You've made me big, Martine."
I do have a big cock. 10 inches. Thick. Uncut.
He grasped the shaft and slowly tugged. Exposing the engorged head.
Kissing Martine - and the earlier conversation - had started a big flow of pre-cum.
The sensation was great. Martine was slow and steady. Clearly liking what was in his hand.
He stroked me up and down. The head of my penis exposed and then covered, exposed and then covered by my big foreskin.
"Do you like my big cock?"
"Oh baby!"
He leaned down into my lap and I felt him take my cock between his ruby lips. My hands couldn't reach him now.
He kept his hand gripping the shaft of my cock as he sucked me. Probably to stop it going in too deep and choking him.
His mouth was stretched to take me.
I just sat back with my legs apart and tried not to cum immediately. A man was sucking my cock. And a gorgeous woman was as well. I was aroused like never before. Started to think of baseball to slow myself down. But it was too much. I was going to blow.
"You'll make me cum, doll."
He kept on. "Ummmm Hmmmm" was all the response I got. Like 'I know'.
His head bobbed up and down, the sexy long hair of his wig tickled my thighs as he sucked me off.
Kept going, sucking my cock deeper into his lipstick covered mouth.
I reached down and held his head.
Came.
Shot an urgent load of cum into his mouth. He swallowed it up as fast as I filled his mouth. Sucking the cum down. Sucking with such passion it felt like he was sucking my cum right out of my balls.
I bucked my hips as each spurt left my body and filled his mouth. He rode it out. Gripping my shaft tighter to protect himself.
Finally it subsided. Martine came up for air.
His lipstick was smudged. His mouth was a blurry red smear on his face. Mascara had run, I guess he'd choked on my cock a little and it made his eyes water. His wig was askew.
And he looked unbelievably sexy. What a mouth.
That same mouth now came up to me and Martine kissed me. I held on tight. Could taste my own cum on his lips. His tongue pushed into my mouth and the taste was stronger.
I was loving it. I was kissing a man who had just sucked me off and I was tasting cum.
It was all things I had fantasized about. Brought to life by this sexy man.
We broke to catch our breath.
Martine was still fully dressed in his seductive outfit.
I was naked below the waist. But I hadn't taken off anything above. I was in a suit jacket, shirt and tie.
"Wow! That was fantastic!" I said. "I'm sorry it was so quick."
"Don't worry. I want you to fuck me, Roger. And I want it to last, so now you won't cum so fast when you get your cock in me."
Oh my god, I was going to fuck that fantastic, curvy ass!
Martine stood and reached out with his hand. I reached up and took it, stood, and followed as I was led to Martin's bedroom.
Martine told me I should get completely naked. I hurried to oblige. My jacket, tie and shirt quickly fell in a heap in the corner.
He stood there in front of me, looking fantastic. Even though his hair was slightly messed and lipstick was smeared, it was a very erotic sight. Maybe because the reason for the dishevelment was so fresh in my mind.
I was aroused by how he looked.
And he was clearly aroused by how I looked.
As my big cock began to swell again, I could clearly see Martine's penis was growing under her skirt.
The bulge in front was unmistakable and I wanted to see it.
Touch it.
I wanted to take Martine's cock in my mouth.
I dropped to my knees. Martine came towards me.
I ran my hands up the silk-covered legs, starting at the ankles. Strong, well-shaped legs.
Martine's calves were like iron from the tension of standing in those fuck-me pumps.
Thighs, firm and.... yes... under the stockings I could tell they were as smooth as the silk that covered them.
My hands went up further as Martine stood there. Reaching up under the dress.
I already knew I was moving towards a cock.
My first cock.
It was torture to go slow, but I wanted the moment to last forever.
My fingertips touched that lovely lace of his panties for the second time.
I moved my hands round to grasp Martine's sexy bum and pulled myself towards where he was standing.
My face was against the front of Martine's skirt. I felt his erection through the material, rubbing against my cheek.
My cock throbbed, I felt it pulsing with the excitement I was experiencing.
Martine's hands came down and rested on my head. Began to massage me and hold me against his cock and balls.
I moved my hands down, away from that sensational ass and began to lift up the hem of Martine's dress.
I kept my face tight to his body as the fabric slipped between my cheek and his panty-covered cock.
Then my fingers found the waist of his tiny, tight panties and I tugged them down. Over his wonderful bottom and stiff cock. He got caught up in the panties as I tried to slip them down further. I had to lean away to give his erection room.
I pulled again on the panties and his hard cock popped free.
He was exposed.
He was hard.
He was utterly hairless.
He had a beautiful penis... bare and smooth and hard... like the ones I'd fantasized about...
And it was right in front of my face.
My hands went back to his stunning rear... my lips opened... I took him into my mouth.
I'd imagined how it would be to suck a cock. Many times. I had tried sucking cucumbers, bananas.. my thumb...
But this was something else. Finally. It was a man. I was sucking a real cock.
Again I felt my own cock twitch. Again I felt a little spurt of pre-cum.
I sucked Martine. Pulled his cock into my mouth with my hands on his ass.
His fingers caressing my head as I sucked him... giving me subtle guidance as to how best to provide him with the most pleasure.
I wanted to feel his smooth skin as I sucked him off and started to undo the clips that were holding up his stockings.
His cock never left my mouth.
My hands worked around from the back to the front. When the rear suspenders were undone, my fingers traced the clefts at the tops of his thighs as I trailed my finger around. Undid the sides... then reached up in front and released the last clips.
His stockings sagged slightly and then I slipped them down to his knees.
Now I was able to caress those smooth and sexy thighs directly. Sucking his cock and rubbing my hands over his legs.
I felt his hands tighten in my hair.
Reached up between his legs.
One hand all the way between and onto his ass. The other touching his silky ballsack.
"I'm going to cum, sweetie."
Without taking Martine's cock from my mouth, I looked up at him and nodded.
His hands pulled me to him. More of his cock entered my mouth. He held me tight there.
I was deep-throating him. He began moving his hips. Fucking my mouth.
I moved my hands over his ass. Over his balls.
Sucked his cock. Left my mouth open for Martine to fuck it.
His hold on me tightened again and he whimpered a little and then started flooding my mouth with his cum.
I swallowed some, but there was so much... it spilled from my mouth. Dribbled down my chin. Dripped onto my chest. Trickled down into my pubic hair.
Martine untangled his fingers from my hair. Pulled his cock out of my mouth.
Stepped back and looked down at me.
Covered in his cum.
I swallowed the last that was in my mouth and for the first time was able to actually taste it.
It was something else new. Odd. You read about 'salty'..... but that's not it.
I didn't hate it, but concluded that it might be an acquired taste. Well, alright then....
"Do you want something else to drink?"
I was thirsty but, actually, didn't want to lose the taste in my mouth.
"No I'm good."
"Better than good, Roger. You never did that before?"
"No. But I've given it a lot of thought...."
"Have you thought about what it would be like to fuck me?"
"Since the moment you came back into the room dressed like a gorgeous woman, Martine."
"Are you ready to go again?"
I stood up.
My cock was at its most erect. Its most massive.
It was pointing directly at Martine as he stood there with his skirt up around his waist, his panties round his ankles and his stockings at half-mast.
He looked like a slut who just got fucked, not a man who just got a blow-job.... until you looked and saw his shaven cock and balls.. glistening with a mixture of his cum and my saliva.
"I want to fuck you, Martine. Right now. I want my cock in your fantastic ass. I want to know how it feels."
"Would you do something for me, Roger?"
"Anything at all"
"Go and put your cowboy boots on for me. Just the boots. I'll be back in a moment."
He removed the panties that were around his ankles and went to the bathroom. I went back to the living room, found my boots where I'd dropped them and pulled them on.
There was a full-length mirror in the hallway. I caught sight of myself on the way back to the bedroom.
Tall and muscular. Tight abs.
A monster erection.
Naked except for my boots.
I posed to myself for a moment. Feeling on top of the world. Stroked myself in the mirror briefly.. thinking about how I would soon be fucking Martine's unbelievable ass.
I stood waiting and soon Martine came back from the bathroom. The makeup had been fixed. The wig was straight again. The skirt back in place. I could see the bulge of his unfettered cock there. Martine in the miniskirt and silk blouse was as sexy as any woman I'd ever been with. I said so. Said I was anxious to fuck with him.
"Maybe I should undress".
He kicked off his shoes.
Barefoot now, and with me in my boots, I was nearly a foot taller than him.
He looked up at me, submissively. He unzipped his skirt. Let it fall to the floor. Stepped out of it.
His stocking had slipped further down his legs. Now rumpled and caught beneath his knees and above the swell of each shapely calf.
His hands went to the buttons of his blouse.
"Let me."
I stood in front of him. He raised each wrist in turn and I loosened the fastenings then worked down from the top button at the front. As the silken blouse opened up I could see he was wearing as bra and I could see I'd been right earlier. He didn't use anything to pad his chest, just his natural tendency to plumpness... magically transformed into sexy little breasts.
When I'd undone the last button, I leaned down and cupped his breasts in their bra with my hands. Nuzzled between them.
He shrugged off his blouse and it slipped from his shoulders to the floor.
Once more I went to my knees in front of Martine. His still glistening cock hung in front of my eyes as I reached around him and drew the suspender belt down over his lovely ass and slid it to the ground. Then I took each leg in turn and slipped his stockings down and off.
I took my time drawing them over his feet.... slowly exposing his painted toes.
He stood there on his dainty feet. I couldn't help myself... I knelt lower and kissed his toes, one by one. He lifted each foot in turn slightly so it could take each toe into my mouth, briefly.
This was my supplication to his sexiness. It was a homage to him, before I began a more intrusive demonstration of the lust he had brought to my mind.
I stood back up.
Martine stood naked before me. Except for his bra. I wanted to leave it. Holding his swelling breasts in a perfectly erotic way.
Now that I could see him naked for the first time I could see that there was not a single hair on his fantastic body. Not on his legs, not his arms, his pubic area... he knew what I was seeing and raised his arms..... no hair under there. He was as smooth as is humanly possible. and his skin was pale. No tan lines, not a mark of any kind. Like a Michelangelo marble.
I stood and took him in my arms, holding him tightly. Naked now, he somehow felt even smaller in my embrace. I relished the feeling of his smooth skin against mine. Feeling his small breasts against my chest. Rubbing my hand cock against him.
I bent my head and my mouth and nose found the crook of his neck and shoulder. He was wearing a perfume now. It made him even more desirable. I kept my face at his neck and breathed in his scent.
His hand came up and held my head and he whispered....
"I want you."
I wanted him just as much. My hard cock was pressed between us. Rubbing against his smooth pale skin.
I wanted to give him the choice of position. I didn't know if he had a preference. Put the ball in his court.
"Lay down for me, Martine."
He lay on his back in the middle of his bed.
Raised his knees.
Spread his legs.
Then he put a hand round his cock and balls and moved them up.....
exposing round jewel where his asshole should be. Maybe an inch across.
It was the end of a butt-plug, I guessed. And it made such a pretty picture, I caught my breath.
"Do you like it?" Martine asked.
"Oh yes. So cute!"
"Stay there a sec."
I stood at the end of the bed and watched as Martine reached between his raised thighs and started slowly tugging on the end of the plug.
His ass ring stretched as the wider part began to be withdrawn. I'd seen pictures but this one was bigger than the sex toys I'd seen before.
"I wanted to be ready for you, Roger." Martine told me. He grunted a couple of times with the effort of extracting the plug from his ass.
"So while I was in the bathroom I thought I'd prepare a little."
I just "Umm Humm"ed. I had no words. Transfixed by the sight of Martine pulling something out of his ass that just seemed to get wider and wider.
"Oooh!" he said, and the plug popped right out.
He put it on the bedside table and went back to his original position, lifting his genitals so I could see his asshole.
Exposing his sweet asshole. It stayed partly open from the stretching of his butt-plug.
He clenched and unclenched his muscles down there as I stood at the end of the bed, staring with lust.
The sight of his ass, winking at me, beckoning to me.... my cock throbbed.
"Come fuck, me, Roger. Give me that wonder weapon you're holding."
I looked down. Indeed, I was holding my cock. I didn't remember taking it in my hand, I'd been so wrapped up in watching Martine's ass-dance.
I got onto the bed and crawled up between his raised thighs.
My cock was pulsing. I could feel my heartbeat in it, I was so aroused.
Leaning forward, I used one hand to position the fat head of my penis against Martine's hole.
"Go slow, lover. You're so big. The biggest cock I ever took."
"I'll try" was all I said.
I meant it, but I wanted more than anything to shove my cock all the way into this sexy cross-dresser'