One Day Sunday: Part Four
Previous installments: http://www.inherservice.com/search/label/debee
And we did. Ninety minutes and four boutiques later had a hot little faux leather number, black, just at the knee. Its slightly stretchy fabric hugged my curves nicely, and to my surprise (and with Katherine giving me another vigorous cinching), I was down to a 23! We also picked out a more practical mid-thigh navy a-line, and two satin blouses, one black, the other cream.
Katherine new most of the shops and the help and chose stores that she thought would be open to my adventure. While some saleswomen weren’t thrilled about helping us, most were enthusiastic and cheerful. It was wonderful to have them fuss over me, offer tips and suggestions, and pretend to be jealous of my figure and legs.
During my blouse and skirt shopping, I’d given my clitty a rest and it was now back in its proper place. I asked Katherine if I was to wear a skirt out or my jeans, that I was too silly to decide on my own.
“Of course you are, Hun. Better get back into your long jeans and boots. I noticed your stockings are sagging. We better find you something to hold them up. And guess what we’re right next door to!”
I soon was pulled by the hand into a well known lingerie franchise. The femininity of the environment was intoxicating. All the help looked like the models in their own catalogue.
Katherine soon picked two styles of panty/garter sets with matching bras. One, a simple black satin, the other a more lacey light pink. “The garter is easy. Small. Your bra size is trickier. Here, start with this 34 AA padded, and we’ll go from there. In you go,” and she guided me to the changing room.
“I’m sorry. We can’t let you use our changing rooms,” a tall blonde intervened.
Oh. And why not?” Katherine politely asked.
“Just store policy. Cross dressers in the changing rooms sometimes make the other customers… uncomfortable.” She spoke in low tones in an attempt to keep our conversation somewhat private.
Katherine had now such thoughts. “Your dressing rooms are gender neutral. There’s no other place to change. How do we get the right fit?” she demanded in a firm tone.
Before the woman could answer, I heard a familiar voice chirp in, “What’s so ‘uncomfortable’? I don’t mind if he uses a room.” It was my wife. I didn’t know how long she’d been in the store.
“There,” Katherine said to the blonde, “you see? She doesn’t mind. How about you, miss?” she asked the nearest customer.
“Hey, help yourself,” the mid 30’s soccer mom said. These last few exchanges were rather loud. There were three other shoppers and another saleswoman in the place.
Katherine addressed the room, “anyone else mind?”
Two of the customers gave negative replies, the other merely shrugged.
The two clerks also shrugged to each other. The blonde spoke apologetically, “Look, it’s no big deal and I don’t care, really, so ok, this once. But keep it under your hat, ok? We really don’t want to become a drag haven…”
And I was in. As I tried on different sized bras, I marveled at my two “girlfriend’s” deftness. They used the situation to accomplish: a) making a valid political point about discrimination, b) allowing me to get in and try on sexy lingerie, and c) made me a focal point for all the customers. Not only were they all aware of what I was doing, but they all were kind of “invested” in my activity. Indeed, none left as I occasionally opened the door to let Katherine check the fitting on a particular size. Most gazed openly at us.
My wife kept up a chatter with Katherine, still pretending to be a stranger. “Wow, so well trained! That’s so wonderful. Does he cook and clean? Iron? Hand wash your dainties? Is he a live in? Oh, you ‘borrowed’ him? From who? How cool is that! Do you get to do anything you want with him? Anything?? (giggle) Hey! Can I borrow him when you’re done? Will his… ‘owner’, is that the right word? ‘Owner’ mind?”
This, and other such chat went on while I was in and out of my bras. Katherine selected the pink set and paid for it while I waited in the cubicle. She soon returned with the garter set and handed it over the door. Panties first then your stockings and belt and bra, then your cincher. Cream blouse, black skirt, boots. Hand me the rest, here’s your purse back. See you in a few, Hun.”
I stepped out a few minutes later. The same women were still there, “browsing.” I felt their stares but didn’t return them. Katherine motioned me over saying “well done, Hun, well done! You look so pretty! Now I have agreed to let this woman borrow you and use you as she sees fit, just as I have done. I will tell your owner. But stay with me for a few minutes. I have another task for you.”
These words were voiced as the three of us left the store, all eyes and ears on us. We walked quickly around a corner and collapsed on a sitting bench. “God what a RUSH!” Katherine said. “What a hoot. God this has been fun!”
I know!” my wife said. “Katherine, you’re fantastic. So nice of you to help us play dress-up”
I could play with you two all day,” she sighed. “But, the work thing. Gotta get back. But anytime you want a third… here’s my card… and my cell.’ Katherine jotted it on the card. My wife took another card and wrote our number it and gave it back to her. Hugs, kisses and a quick good-bye.
We sat down again happily. I looked down at myself, my leather skirt and spike heeled boots, felt the garter pull at my stockings, and a fresh wave of horniness came over me. “Stop admiring yourself,” said my wife, guessing my thoughts. “Tell me, how’d you know to sit down that way?”
“What way?”
“This is the first time we’ve sat since you put that sexy skirt on. As you sat down, you smoothed the skirt under your butt. Your knees are together, your ankles turned nicely to the side… I mean it’s lovely, ladylike… deportment. I don’t even sit that way…. There’s a lot of girly in you, Hun.” She gave me a long kiss. “I wonder why I like it? And you do too,” she kissed me again, “don’t you Hun?” kissing, whispering in my ear, “don’t you, my little, horny bitch.” Her hand was on my thigh, fingering the garter snaps through the fabric.
Like before, she abruptly stopped and sat up straight. She looked dreamily around and sighed. “Remember how we both hated malls? Now I see this place as Wonderland. A beautiful Wonderland. And, you, my dear Alice, you and I have stepped through the Looking Glass. We can have anything we desire here. All dreams can be fulfilled.” Giggle.
Before I could reply, she kissed me again. As she nuzzled and kissed, she whispered into my ear, “For example, our dear Katherine highly recommends that salon around the corner. And just behind you, she says that nail place is where she goes for her manicure and that the pedicures are delicious. And several of the jewelry stores here will pierce your ears for free with a purchase of good earrings. Too bad that tan and spa place is closed today. They do waxing. We’ll do that another day… but hair, nails and ears are a must.” She put a hand on my thigh and looked into my eyes, “You couldn’t say ‘no’ to me even if you wanted to, and you definitely don’t want to, do you, you little cunt?” I start to squirm my clit against the bench.
“I’ll let you decide which to do first.” She pondered. “Now, shall I go in with you, speak to the girls myself? We would decide what to do with you, making it clear that you’re opinion isn’t relevant, like you’re my property. That’s been really fun, hasn’t it? Or, do I come in later and watch you? Make you do it alone? Watch you ask to be prettied up, while I snicker and giggle with other customers… Hmmm? What do you like best? Both must be so humiliating!”
As it turned out, she did some of both. My wife and the hair stylist decided that a “Jamie Lee Curtis look” would work for me. They seemed more concerned with my eyebrows than anything else, and spent a good deal of time plucking and shaping them. My cut was short, simple, but clearly feminine.
My “look” apparently called for some large rhinestone earrings, so my ears were pierced next, and they chose a pair of silvery squares.
After that, it was to the nail place. My wife played a “stranger” again and giggled and teased with other women as I had my fingernails and toenails done. The pedicure was, as Katherine said, delicious. I chose an opalescent, pale pink for the fingernails, and a deep red for the toes. Rolling my stockings down was also fun, and I needed to use the “ladies room” to reattach them to my garters.
The experiences and feelings I had as I became more and more feminine is impossible to describe. Between each stop my wife necked with me and tried to feel up my skirt, which was always met with a slap of my hand. It was getting to be closing time for most of the shops. While there was time, my wife headed us to one of the larger department stores. She pointed to the make-up counter and told me to enquire to the girl about a quality brand of lipstick. And to ask about the easiest way to apply eyeliner. And with eye shadow, is it darker colors that should go closest to the eye?
In fifteen minutes I had my lips and eyes done expertly by the saleswoman, and a ruby red lipstick, mascara and liner, eye shadow, and a little blush in my purse.
In fifteen more minutes, we were in the lounge of the same restaurant that we had had lunch. My wife ordered me a Manhattan, allowing me only one, “since you’re driving,” she ordered. She was on her second scotch when she started to get really, really horny, and somewhat verbally abusive. I needed “my brains fucked out. Really, totally fucked out,” whether I “wanted it or not, ‘cause any bitch cunt that dresses like that… not only wants it, she’s asking for it. Ain’t that right? You want it?” More kissing and nuzzling. More of her hand creeping up my skirt, fingers sliding into the top of my stocking. I squirmed in my seat. Again.
“This has been a very fun day.” I said hoarsely. “I’ve never seen you so excited. Or aroused. And I think I feel the same. Tell me,” I stared into her eyes, “do you like me… better… this way…?”
It was a serious question and I thought it warranted a thoughtful answer. But she quickly waved it off. “Nah,” she dismissed. “If I was a lesbian and wanted a girl, I’d have got me one of those. I married a guy that’s what I want,” and she sat up and drained her drink. I felt confused and disappointed with her answer. What was I expecting? I retrieved a mirror and my lipstick from my bag and gave myself a fresh coat.
“But,” she said when I’d finished, and kissed me so hard she smeared my lipstick again, “I would love having a go at being bisexual…with you. Let’s go home and have a fresh look at our toys. We may see them in a whole different light.”
“Let me powder my nose.”
* * *
For more info on debee, check out her Fetlife profile: http://fetlife.com/users/41213
Showing posts with label servicing other women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label servicing other women. Show all posts
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
4th of July Flagpole Decorating
(Final Report)
from Cap Slight
The below report is from a new online trainee and cyberlover who just took part in my 4th of July assignment, with his official ribbon-wearing time stretching into the day on July 5th. It was so incredibly hot that I had to ask his permission to share it. He did request that I keep the pictures private, so I am doing so, but I left the notations in, as I think they will help you better visualize the action.
After doing a delightful job of serving me online, I instructed him to add the ritual at the end, which I am sure some of you will recognize. Some those who know me better than he does at this point may notice some things in his writing that I wouldn't do or say in exactly the way described, and yes, he took some liberties, but only ones I feel more than inclined to allow. All-in-all it's a wonderfully yummy report, and one which I'm enjoying reading over and over and over again. ;-)
* * *
I have just finished the assignment a short while ago. This e-mail is long because there is much for me to tell you so I have split it into three easily found 'chapters' so you can search ahead and find if you so desire: "DURING THE NIGHT" describing my pleasant waking torments last night, "DURING THE DAY" about another day at the office, and "FINISHING THE ASSIGNMENT", with release and my tasting the cum which flowed from your boy's cock.
DURING THE NIGHT
In the night I awoke, your cock half swollen, and swelling more as I tried and failed to get back to sleep as I imagine other ways you might have of using me for your pleasure...
I imagine that you have released my cock from its wrappings but tied my ankles and wrists to the bed so I lie spreadeagle on my back as you pleasure youself above me, kneeling astraddle my face and rubbing your gorgeous hot wet sex into me, rubbing your clit on my nose as you grasp my hair. Sometimes you pause to let my tongue explore inside you. Juices leak from within you; sometimes slowly, sometimes in a glistening stream. When finally you are satisfied you wipe the precum from your cockhole and feed it to me, kiss me, then fall deeply asleep beside me as I remain restrained, the taste and feel of you in my mouth and all over my face, your cock yearning for a release it does not deserve.
I imagine you are holding a dinner party for your closest girlfriends where I will be serving at table. You have dressed your cock tightly in the prettiest ribbons and supervised me showering and made me rub lotion into myself so your boy is fragrant, then you attach extra decorations. Stick-on stars on your cock's shaft and in the pubic hair, and pink hearts on your ballsack. The touch of your hands as you make these improvements to your cock makes me strain against the unyielding ribbons and sets your balls alive in their prettified sack. These decorations are all I am to wear during your party. Your guests arrive and compliment you on your work and examine every inch of my nakedness, which I find utterly humiliating and enormously arousing. Much of the party conversation is about boys and I nearly whimper when one of your friends describes in detail how her new boyfriend's cock feels when she's sucking it, when it's inside her pussy, when it's pumping semen into her. I walk back into the kitchen to fetch another bottle of wine and hear gales of girly laughter after someone says something I can't quite make out. I have to remind myself that Mistress doesn't suck my cock and doesn't let it into her pussy because that's how Mistress likes it and that's more important. After dinner is over I am put to work in other ways you command me. Maybe pleasuring you or one or more of your guests in any way you command, maybe allowing them to redecorate your cock, maybe having me wank myself into a cup and drink the cum in front of them all.
I imagine you call me to you and I find you sittimg in an armchair with a glass on the floor a few feet in front of you. You have me kneel in front of the glass, facing you. On your command I undo the restraints on your package and you lean forward for a better view, your chin resting on your hand as if gazing at a curious zoo specimen. You say "wank for me, boy" and I start. My view fixates sometimes on your crotch, sometimes on your cleavage, sometimes on your eyes. You tell me to stop, and appear to be thinking deeply as you gaze into the pleading eyes of your boy. My heart leaps as you finally give me permission to release and we keep looking into each other's eyes as I squirt the pent-up jizz into the glass and utter cries of thanks and obedience.
I imagine you lie naked face down on the bed as I firmly massage your shoulders, then your arms, then your back, your gorgeous round buttocks, your shapely legs, until you gleam all over with the oil. You roll over and have me massage my way back up your body. I pay plenty of attention to your inner thighs and loiter gently on your pubic mound and oil your already-moist lips. You mutter "yes" softly and a smile flickers across your face as I slip one finger briefly inside. I massage my way up your belly and you moan as I start to oil and caress your breasts. With one hand you reach into a bedside drawer, take out first one then another vibrator, pass one to me and tell me to slide it into you and "Fuck me with it". I oil the vibe, switch it on and slowly press it deep into you, an ooze of your juice escaping as your lips part. I stoop my head down and lick at it. You tell me to get on all fours, my head between your legs and my ass high up in the air above your face, so your toy's tormented bound cock and balls are in front of you. I hold the gleaming end of the vibe and move it in and out of your sweetly oozing vagina, and work on your clit and lips with my mouth and tongue and you switch on the other vibe. You play it across your breasts and touch it to me to further tease my - or rather *your* - already straining cock and balls, making me gasp when you reach up with thumb and finger to pull the foreskin back and then rub the buzzing vibe all round the now unbearably sensitive edge of the cockhead. The strain in me builds so far that I start to panic, thinking I might cum despite the restraints (you, my Mistress, haven't told me I can cum, you'll be rightly angry with me, you will be disappointed with your boy and, my lack of control will spoil your pleasure!) you take the vibe away from your boytoys and return it to your breasts.
It is not easy to sleep while imagining these things.
DURING THE DAY
The constriction and tickling were a constant reminder to me of [who I belong to]. I had to be careful when standing up and sitting down because my - *your* - nuts were so sensitive. This added a real buzz to an otherwise regular day at the office. During a dull meeting I thought of your ownership of my bound cock and I swelled. Trying to keep a straight face as my - *your* - cock strained in my pants and not blurt out something like "Mistress tied ribbons round my cock!" to the others around the table when I was asked what my opinion was an interesting moment :) And every minute that your package was bound up and squeezed by the ribbons was a minute closer to the final tasks you had ordered me to perform and I was so so looking forward to.
FINISHING THE ASSIGNMENT
After getting home and having a hurried dinner I undressed and knelt down to finish the assignment at 8 o'clock (3pm your time, I was wondering what you were doing then). I took one last long look at your decorated cock (pic 1) then undid the ribbons around the shaft. They left marks where they had been digging into your cock when it was hard (pictures 2 and 3) but those are gone now. I untied the cockring ribbons around the base and held them up to my nose, sniffing along their whole length. They smelt of sex and sweat, desire and frustration, and hope. Then I took hold of your shaft and started to play with it while imagining you sat watching me, imagining you standing over me with your legs apart and me licking your pussy.
Three times I managed to stop just short of cumming, and watched as a thin stream of milky precum dribbled from your cockhole and into the glass in front of me. The first time this happened (picture 4) I drank the precum from the glass to taste what I was making for you. A sharp aroma and an almost sweetened salty taste, it was good and it made we want more. The other two times I edged I kept the precum in the glass so that there would be as much as possible when I finished (pictures 5 and 6 after one of the later edgings).
After half an hour of wanking I went a little too far and rather than edging again and dribbling, at 3:30 your time, I tipped *over* the edge and as I gasped "Your cock, Mistress, your boy, Mistress, yourgggggggggh pleasurggghhhhh, Misssstressssssss" I shook as it felt like all the muscles in my lower half contracted at once and two hard squirts of jizz shot out (picture 7; I just got lucky with the timing!) as a pleasure-bomb went off in my brain. After the two big squirts there was a third more gentle one and then I just knelt, trembling and panting. A little more cum oozed out out me and a tingling sensation swept in waves from my fingertips up to my forehead, from my chest down as far as my knees, as if ripples of tingly joy were running over me. It was, Mistress, one of the finest and strongest orgasms I have *ever* had and it was entirely thanks to you and your wonderful instructions and coaxing through the assignment.
After five minutes I had stopped shaking and had one more job to do for you. The glass (picture 8) had about 5cc of cum in it. It had an aroma I can't describe as being quite like anything else except perhaps "hot glistening cockhead, with a hint of fresh sweat". I drank it all, in two sips. It tasted *great* as I swilled it around my mouth with my tounge to get the most of it. A sweet salty sour meaty taste... with... mushroom? That's the best I can describe the taste of the cum you made me produce. It took a long time before my trembling stopped and I felt able to stand up to walk to the computer and write this report.
As I sit here typing this some hours later I am still buzzing with the warmth you, my mistress, put into me by having me bind her cock and please her. I hope I have served you adequately and that you might consider me as worthy of serving you in the future. Tonight I am sure I will have no problem sleeping, but I expect interesting dreams.
Wishing you many warm and lingering kisses and tongue caresses wherever you ask of me,
Your boy,
Cap
After doing a delightful job of serving me online, I instructed him to add the ritual at the end, which I am sure some of you will recognize. Some those who know me better than he does at this point may notice some things in his writing that I wouldn't do or say in exactly the way described, and yes, he took some liberties, but only ones I feel more than inclined to allow. All-in-all it's a wonderfully yummy report, and one which I'm enjoying reading over and over and over again. ;-)
* * *
I have just finished the assignment a short while ago. This e-mail is long because there is much for me to tell you so I have split it into three easily found 'chapters' so you can search ahead and find if you so desire: "DURING THE NIGHT" describing my pleasant waking torments last night, "DURING THE DAY" about another day at the office, and "FINISHING THE ASSIGNMENT", with release and my tasting the cum which flowed from your boy's cock.
DURING THE NIGHT
In the night I awoke, your cock half swollen, and swelling more as I tried and failed to get back to sleep as I imagine other ways you might have of using me for your pleasure...
I imagine that you have released my cock from its wrappings but tied my ankles and wrists to the bed so I lie spreadeagle on my back as you pleasure youself above me, kneeling astraddle my face and rubbing your gorgeous hot wet sex into me, rubbing your clit on my nose as you grasp my hair. Sometimes you pause to let my tongue explore inside you. Juices leak from within you; sometimes slowly, sometimes in a glistening stream. When finally you are satisfied you wipe the precum from your cockhole and feed it to me, kiss me, then fall deeply asleep beside me as I remain restrained, the taste and feel of you in my mouth and all over my face, your cock yearning for a release it does not deserve.
I imagine you are holding a dinner party for your closest girlfriends where I will be serving at table. You have dressed your cock tightly in the prettiest ribbons and supervised me showering and made me rub lotion into myself so your boy is fragrant, then you attach extra decorations. Stick-on stars on your cock's shaft and in the pubic hair, and pink hearts on your ballsack. The touch of your hands as you make these improvements to your cock makes me strain against the unyielding ribbons and sets your balls alive in their prettified sack. These decorations are all I am to wear during your party. Your guests arrive and compliment you on your work and examine every inch of my nakedness, which I find utterly humiliating and enormously arousing. Much of the party conversation is about boys and I nearly whimper when one of your friends describes in detail how her new boyfriend's cock feels when she's sucking it, when it's inside her pussy, when it's pumping semen into her. I walk back into the kitchen to fetch another bottle of wine and hear gales of girly laughter after someone says something I can't quite make out. I have to remind myself that Mistress doesn't suck my cock and doesn't let it into her pussy because that's how Mistress likes it and that's more important. After dinner is over I am put to work in other ways you command me. Maybe pleasuring you or one or more of your guests in any way you command, maybe allowing them to redecorate your cock, maybe having me wank myself into a cup and drink the cum in front of them all.
I imagine you call me to you and I find you sittimg in an armchair with a glass on the floor a few feet in front of you. You have me kneel in front of the glass, facing you. On your command I undo the restraints on your package and you lean forward for a better view, your chin resting on your hand as if gazing at a curious zoo specimen. You say "wank for me, boy" and I start. My view fixates sometimes on your crotch, sometimes on your cleavage, sometimes on your eyes. You tell me to stop, and appear to be thinking deeply as you gaze into the pleading eyes of your boy. My heart leaps as you finally give me permission to release and we keep looking into each other's eyes as I squirt the pent-up jizz into the glass and utter cries of thanks and obedience.
I imagine you lie naked face down on the bed as I firmly massage your shoulders, then your arms, then your back, your gorgeous round buttocks, your shapely legs, until you gleam all over with the oil. You roll over and have me massage my way back up your body. I pay plenty of attention to your inner thighs and loiter gently on your pubic mound and oil your already-moist lips. You mutter "yes" softly and a smile flickers across your face as I slip one finger briefly inside. I massage my way up your belly and you moan as I start to oil and caress your breasts. With one hand you reach into a bedside drawer, take out first one then another vibrator, pass one to me and tell me to slide it into you and "Fuck me with it". I oil the vibe, switch it on and slowly press it deep into you, an ooze of your juice escaping as your lips part. I stoop my head down and lick at it. You tell me to get on all fours, my head between your legs and my ass high up in the air above your face, so your toy's tormented bound cock and balls are in front of you. I hold the gleaming end of the vibe and move it in and out of your sweetly oozing vagina, and work on your clit and lips with my mouth and tongue and you switch on the other vibe. You play it across your breasts and touch it to me to further tease my - or rather *your* - already straining cock and balls, making me gasp when you reach up with thumb and finger to pull the foreskin back and then rub the buzzing vibe all round the now unbearably sensitive edge of the cockhead. The strain in me builds so far that I start to panic, thinking I might cum despite the restraints (you, my Mistress, haven't told me I can cum, you'll be rightly angry with me, you will be disappointed with your boy and, my lack of control will spoil your pleasure!) you take the vibe away from your boytoys and return it to your breasts.
It is not easy to sleep while imagining these things.
DURING THE DAY
The constriction and tickling were a constant reminder to me of [who I belong to]. I had to be careful when standing up and sitting down because my - *your* - nuts were so sensitive. This added a real buzz to an otherwise regular day at the office. During a dull meeting I thought of your ownership of my bound cock and I swelled. Trying to keep a straight face as my - *your* - cock strained in my pants and not blurt out something like "Mistress tied ribbons round my cock!" to the others around the table when I was asked what my opinion was an interesting moment :) And every minute that your package was bound up and squeezed by the ribbons was a minute closer to the final tasks you had ordered me to perform and I was so so looking forward to.
FINISHING THE ASSIGNMENT
After getting home and having a hurried dinner I undressed and knelt down to finish the assignment at 8 o'clock (3pm your time, I was wondering what you were doing then). I took one last long look at your decorated cock (pic 1) then undid the ribbons around the shaft. They left marks where they had been digging into your cock when it was hard (pictures 2 and 3) but those are gone now. I untied the cockring ribbons around the base and held them up to my nose, sniffing along their whole length. They smelt of sex and sweat, desire and frustration, and hope. Then I took hold of your shaft and started to play with it while imagining you sat watching me, imagining you standing over me with your legs apart and me licking your pussy.
Three times I managed to stop just short of cumming, and watched as a thin stream of milky precum dribbled from your cockhole and into the glass in front of me. The first time this happened (picture 4) I drank the precum from the glass to taste what I was making for you. A sharp aroma and an almost sweetened salty taste, it was good and it made we want more. The other two times I edged I kept the precum in the glass so that there would be as much as possible when I finished (pictures 5 and 6 after one of the later edgings).
After half an hour of wanking I went a little too far and rather than edging again and dribbling, at 3:30 your time, I tipped *over* the edge and as I gasped "Your cock, Mistress, your boy, Mistress, yourgggggggggh pleasurggghhhhh, Misssstressssssss" I shook as it felt like all the muscles in my lower half contracted at once and two hard squirts of jizz shot out (picture 7; I just got lucky with the timing!) as a pleasure-bomb went off in my brain. After the two big squirts there was a third more gentle one and then I just knelt, trembling and panting. A little more cum oozed out out me and a tingling sensation swept in waves from my fingertips up to my forehead, from my chest down as far as my knees, as if ripples of tingly joy were running over me. It was, Mistress, one of the finest and strongest orgasms I have *ever* had and it was entirely thanks to you and your wonderful instructions and coaxing through the assignment.
After five minutes I had stopped shaking and had one more job to do for you. The glass (picture 8) had about 5cc of cum in it. It had an aroma I can't describe as being quite like anything else except perhaps "hot glistening cockhead, with a hint of fresh sweat". I drank it all, in two sips. It tasted *great* as I swilled it around my mouth with my tounge to get the most of it. A sweet salty sour meaty taste... with... mushroom? That's the best I can describe the taste of the cum you made me produce. It took a long time before my trembling stopped and I felt able to stand up to walk to the computer and write this report.
As I sit here typing this some hours later I am still buzzing with the warmth you, my mistress, put into me by having me bind her cock and please her. I hope I have served you adequately and that you might consider me as worthy of serving you in the future. Tonight I am sure I will have no problem sleeping, but I expect interesting dreams.
Wishing you many warm and lingering kisses and tongue caresses wherever you ask of me,
Your boy,
Cap
Friday, June 18, 2010
When you think of the idea of "showing off your boy" do you prefer the idea of taking him out in public collared and leashed, with other secrets hidden beneath street clothes... or having him serve totally, wearing even less, before a chosen few?
Actually, it’s usually somewhere in between. I love the idea of the hidden secrets underneath, but to me that is a different type of stimulus…something that makes me quietly smile or gets me all wet, knowing how it privately reflects my control over him.
Hmmm… though tweeting about it is showing him off, as are the yummy glimpses of our intimate conversations that we sometimes share with others on Twitter. I love retweeting jezi’s panty reports, and also commenting on the yummy feelings that I get while wearing or using various gifts and tributes from my boys and trainees. While the actions might be in private, talking about how much my boy pleases me is definitely one area in which I enjoy showing him off.
One of the key factors is interacting with people whom I know or who might comment back. I also really enjoy “controlled exhibitionism” (which might be a better description of the seen portion of your first example), but even in that, I want to be able to see and feel the response of the watcher. A lot of the pleasure that I receive is actually in knowing my/our effect on others.
When looking for a submissive, I want someone who will make me proud of him… who I can enjoy showing off. He is intelligent; interesting; confident in his skills, but not cocky/arrogant, and acts like a gentleman, ‘though he has enough of a naughty steak to indulge, and sometimes inspire, my more adventurous ideas. ;-) He is eager to help others when it is appropriate, but he doesn’t put them ahead of my needs. He can keep up his end of a conversation with my friends, who range from college dropouts to PhDs.
Here are some examples of my favorite real life ways of showing a boy off, many of which I have enjoyed with more than one boy:
Loaning him out as a demo model for an instructor (whom I trust) who is teaching something that he enjoys or is curious about.
Having him show off/teach/demo/share his experiences with specific fetishes/kinks, such as having him show off his chastity device and how it goes on and off for friends at a party, and discussing with them his experiences in wearing it.
Having him serve me at a party or event, or even model in a fetish fashion show, in clothes that I have picked out for him.
Loaning him out to help with setup or taking down for an event.
Leading a boy around an event, asking others to play with the bells on his nipples, or chastity, or having them each take a turn while I am giving him a spanking. Basically, asking/allowing them to take part in teasing or playing with him, and comment on it while I enjoy both their reactions and his.
Some more specific memories:
Having him serve at a party that I am hosting – greeting guests, putting away coats, helping with the food table, getting drinks, etc. Wearing his chastity key on a necklace, clearly visible near my heart, “knowing” friends notice and congratulate me on the new boy. One of them, noticing that his collar does not have a lock, asks what the key is for, and I indicate that it fits something a bit lower. ;-) (Mmm…taking more private pleasure in the memories of him pleasuring me beforehand, and then cleaning and setting things up while I showered, dressed and answered last minute calls and emails.)
Sending him ahead to SRO classes at a national BDSM event while I network in the hall. Coming in, saying “thank you, but no” to the guys who are offer me seats, and even the one who offered me a place on his lap, carefully moving past the folks sitting in the aisle, giving him a small, un-needed gesture as I get to him, and taking his seat as he drops down to sit on the floor at my feet.
Wowing the International Leathermen at Folsom Street Faire, calling others to come look and one guy even dropping to his knees at the size of my boy’s cock.
While vending at another kink event, the organizers decided to keep the vendor room open later, through dinner, to allow for more shopping time. He takes the initiative to take pizza orders from the various vendors, places the order, collects the cash, greets the delivery boy at the door and distributes the slices, also getting drinks for those who need them.
Going in to setup for that event, he carried several boxes that I can only carry one-at-a-time, stacked very high, through the vendor room. My private pleasure was in turning around and seeing all the boxes there. The pleasure in showing him off was in the approval of others, especially when a girl that was there by herself, representing one of the lingerie vendors, asked if she could borrow him. I was quite happy to oblige.
Events like that really stand out in my mind, and bring a smile to my face years (even over a decade!) later, but they aren’t necessarily the ones that you can script ahead of time. The right kind of boy does them because that is who he is, and then I find myself both wonderfully surprised and very happy to show him off.
Hmmm… though tweeting about it is showing him off, as are the yummy glimpses of our intimate conversations that we sometimes share with others on Twitter. I love retweeting jezi’s panty reports, and also commenting on the yummy feelings that I get while wearing or using various gifts and tributes from my boys and trainees. While the actions might be in private, talking about how much my boy pleases me is definitely one area in which I enjoy showing him off.
One of the key factors is interacting with people whom I know or who might comment back. I also really enjoy “controlled exhibitionism” (which might be a better description of the seen portion of your first example), but even in that, I want to be able to see and feel the response of the watcher. A lot of the pleasure that I receive is actually in knowing my/our effect on others.
When looking for a submissive, I want someone who will make me proud of him… who I can enjoy showing off. He is intelligent; interesting; confident in his skills, but not cocky/arrogant, and acts like a gentleman, ‘though he has enough of a naughty steak to indulge, and sometimes inspire, my more adventurous ideas. ;-) He is eager to help others when it is appropriate, but he doesn’t put them ahead of my needs. He can keep up his end of a conversation with my friends, who range from college dropouts to PhDs.
Here are some examples of my favorite real life ways of showing a boy off, many of which I have enjoyed with more than one boy:
Loaning him out as a demo model for an instructor (whom I trust) who is teaching something that he enjoys or is curious about.
Having him show off/teach/demo/share his experiences with specific fetishes/kinks, such as having him show off his chastity device and how it goes on and off for friends at a party, and discussing with them his experiences in wearing it.
Having him serve me at a party or event, or even model in a fetish fashion show, in clothes that I have picked out for him.
Loaning him out to help with setup or taking down for an event.
Leading a boy around an event, asking others to play with the bells on his nipples, or chastity, or having them each take a turn while I am giving him a spanking. Basically, asking/allowing them to take part in teasing or playing with him, and comment on it while I enjoy both their reactions and his.
Some more specific memories:
Having him serve at a party that I am hosting – greeting guests, putting away coats, helping with the food table, getting drinks, etc. Wearing his chastity key on a necklace, clearly visible near my heart, “knowing” friends notice and congratulate me on the new boy. One of them, noticing that his collar does not have a lock, asks what the key is for, and I indicate that it fits something a bit lower. ;-) (Mmm…taking more private pleasure in the memories of him pleasuring me beforehand, and then cleaning and setting things up while I showered, dressed and answered last minute calls and emails.)
Sending him ahead to SRO classes at a national BDSM event while I network in the hall. Coming in, saying “thank you, but no” to the guys who are offer me seats, and even the one who offered me a place on his lap, carefully moving past the folks sitting in the aisle, giving him a small, un-needed gesture as I get to him, and taking his seat as he drops down to sit on the floor at my feet.
Wowing the International Leathermen at Folsom Street Faire, calling others to come look and one guy even dropping to his knees at the size of my boy’s cock.
While vending at another kink event, the organizers decided to keep the vendor room open later, through dinner, to allow for more shopping time. He takes the initiative to take pizza orders from the various vendors, places the order, collects the cash, greets the delivery boy at the door and distributes the slices, also getting drinks for those who need them.
Going in to setup for that event, he carried several boxes that I can only carry one-at-a-time, stacked very high, through the vendor room. My private pleasure was in turning around and seeing all the boxes there. The pleasure in showing him off was in the approval of others, especially when a girl that was there by herself, representing one of the lingerie vendors, asked if she could borrow him. I was quite happy to oblige.
Events like that really stand out in my mind, and bring a smile to my face years (even over a decade!) later, but they aren’t necessarily the ones that you can script ahead of time. The right kind of boy does them because that is who he is, and then I find myself both wonderfully surprised and very happy to show him off.
Friday, June 11, 2010
A Working Day: Part 4: The Party
by Abe Froman (aka ed cantor)
The final (at least for now) installment of this yummy story by my boy, ed cantor. ~ Mistress Magick
[Begin with Part One]
* * *
Part 4: The Party
Oh God. It was working already. He could feel his face hot, picturing the women from the house, the office, searching their faces in his mind and placing on each one the expression of shock and amusement at seeing him like that.
He got dressed, his own clothes feeling so strange over the lingerie. With a deep breath he started back downstairs to check on preparations, and to try to acclimatize himself to acting normal in front of a group of women – one of whom would soon know his deepest secret. The chain swayed across his chest and the silk shirt. Jessica was the first of the two he saw, and she greeting him with a wide smile.
"You look very handsome, Sir."
"Thank you Jessica, but please, no 'Sir' tonight. I'm the host, and you're the guest. Just have fun, and let me know if I can do anything for you."
Another wide smile, so intoxicating, "You've got it, Sir... I mean, Michael."
From then on, things continued to get more challenging. The women from the lingerie company arrived, looking stunning themselves, and carrying a wide assortment of items that would look devastating on any of his anticipated guests.
When the guests arrived, it was like a flood of beauty. Mary Hart should have been filming them arrive, as each dress was more stunning, more clingy, and more perfectly suited to the woman wearing it than the last.
There were push-ups, low cuts, deep backs, flowing fabrics, high slits and skirts so tight they reduced the wearer to tiny steps. His cock was constantly straining at its confinement. He tried to keep his eyes from tracing the curve of each bottom, or diving down each open neckline, but it was hopeless.
When they were all there, he was surrounded by the loveliness of ten women, all of them stunning, all in his employ one way or another. Sara and Jessica working here at the house, Denise his driver, Michelle and Andrea who kept his books, Colleen and Amanda who were the legal department and Joanne, Ally and Christina who made up the secretarial pool.
Throughout the evening he was always on his toes, making sure every drink was full, guiding the muscular servers around to wherever he sensed an empty plate. Those men might look more overtly like objects for the women's consumption, but he knew he was the real toy that evening. He didn't know which of them would be playing yet, but he would be their object.
He kept himself on his feet. There was much to do and coordinate and he didn't dare sit and make it just that much more obvious that his ankles were covered by stockings instead of socks.
Miss Vicki arrived last, looking as innocent as he'd ever seen her. Her dress was simple yet so perfectly fitted to her form it must have been tailored. Light, with soft flowers in a subtle off-tone pattern, it was cut just low enough to stir his heart with her breathing. Another result of its perfect hugging of her curves was that it was absolutely evident that she didn't have a stitch on under it. He forced himself to keep from staring at her all night.
The actual lingerie session was pure torture. The women actually modeled a few of the pieces for the gathering, and as the only man in the room he was a constant focus. He had tried to keep out of the way, but they pulled him forward, wanting to show their potential customers a man's reaction to the various tiny scraps of lace. His body ached due to the cage, the titilizer and lust. Would he see one of these women standing over him wearing these things?
Would he be wearing them?
He noticed Michelle, a rather shy knockout from accounting actually blush at being in the simultaneous presence of her boss and lingerie. Others, Denise most notably, would look to him and smile slowly as she would run her fingers over a particularly devastating piece. The remainder of the guests seemed to act as if it was a girls-only night out. There had been a few bottles of wine opened and emptied by this time, so laughter and emotions were running free.
His mind was a blur, imagining each of them in the various outfits and costumes. He would also catch Miss Vicki's eye, or seeing her particular attention on something, and not be able to tell if she wanted it for her or for him. When all was said and done and the women made their choices and orders, he noted Vicki made sure to be heard ordering at least two items in his size.
The party ended too soon – and not soon enough. Each woman thanked him personally, often with a gentle kiss or a hug that risked expose the chain from his aching nipples. They would tell him that this was just one more reason they loved working for him, smiling and lingering near him, close enough that his buzzing senses were aware of each motion, each breath, each flick of the hair.
He feared their touch but at the same time, after such a sexually charged night, he would have begged to feel their breasts squashed tight against him.
The caterers had cleaned and gone. Sara and Jessica were off to their own quarters. He made his way finally up to his room in dimly lit silence. He heard the sweet voice of his Mistress before he saw her.
"Strip down to just what I've given you." Her voice was a throaty whisper.
In moments his trousers, shirt, jacket and shoes were discarded. He stood before her, eager and hungry, stripped down to panties and stockings and the teasing jewelry on his chest. Vickie pointed to heels waiting for him on the floor. He slid his feet, already aching, into them. Despite the three inches they added to his height he felt smaller.
She hadn't changed her dress. He felt her power, and the innocence of her dress contrasted with her words and what he knew of her true nature. She toyed with the buttons at her neckline, teasing him further.
He received a wide and wicked smile from his Mistress as she began to move around him. Padded leather cuffs went around his wrists, locked together, and she guided them up over his head, pulling his bound wrists down towards his shoulder blades with his elbows out beside his head. She fed a chain from his wrist cuffs down between his legs and clipped it to the cage holding his cock. Any motion of his arms was cruelly translated directly along the chain.
A spreader bar trapped and held wide his ankles. It was even more difficult now to balance on the heels. With him very effectively immobilized, Miss Vicki took just a bit more time to apply a whorish blush and bright red lipstick.
The titilizer was removed and with a soft purr she massaged his aching nipples. As if they were not red enough, she added lipstick to them as well.
Miss Vicki had made sure months ago that he had a full-height mirror on a rolling stand. It was moved in front of him now. His body was tight and strained, the bulge in his panties obscene. Though the lace he could see the steel of the cage. He looked so helpless, so controlled. While he drank in the humiliation, she wrote "SLAVE" across his forehead with the lipstick.
"Will you make me proud, slut?"
"Yes, Mistress, I will." He could barely speak. The anticipation had done its job. His nervous tension seemed to give a haze to his vision and he was sure anyone in the room could hear his heart beating.
"Good, pet. You've got two people to make happy tonight."
He didn't get any answer out before she filled his painted lips with a white rubber ball gag. It pushed past his teeth and held his jaw wide. She helped him down to his knees but even with her support the chain from his wrists tugged at his balls. She smiled at his position and slapped his ass as she moved to the bedroom door. She took one look back over her shoulder to drink in the moment before she swung it open.
At first there was nothing, only the candlelight from his bedroom spilling out into the dark hallway. After a couple pounding heartbeats nervous steps carried her into view. Wearing what had to be his favorite outfit from the party—a pure white satin and lace busier with red laces along with matching white stockings, garters and even white stilettos—stood the previously meek Michelle.
Her auburn hair, nearly always in a bun at work, flowed down in soft waves over her shoulders. The deep tan of her smooth skin set off the lingerie perfectly.
She was taking deep breaths, as her full D-cup breasts heaved in the tight embrace of the bustier. The bustier ended just high enough to display a diamond in her pierced navel.
There was shock and surprise in her eyes, but it didn't last long. It seemed to be vaporized by lust and desire. He noticed now that in one hand she held a black leather crop and in the other an uncomfortably large looking pink rubber phallus.
"Beware the meek ones, slut. Still waters run deep," Miss Vicki whispered and giggled in his ear.
The noise of the heavy door as Michelle slammed it shut behind her might have woken Sara and Jessica but Michael had much bigger worries at the moment.
To Be Continued...
* * *
Read more of ed's work and enjoy his favorite erotic photos at: http://mind-effing.tumblr.com/
[Begin with Part One]
* * *
Part 4: The Party
Oh God. It was working already. He could feel his face hot, picturing the women from the house, the office, searching their faces in his mind and placing on each one the expression of shock and amusement at seeing him like that.
He got dressed, his own clothes feeling so strange over the lingerie. With a deep breath he started back downstairs to check on preparations, and to try to acclimatize himself to acting normal in front of a group of women – one of whom would soon know his deepest secret. The chain swayed across his chest and the silk shirt. Jessica was the first of the two he saw, and she greeting him with a wide smile.
"You look very handsome, Sir."
"Thank you Jessica, but please, no 'Sir' tonight. I'm the host, and you're the guest. Just have fun, and let me know if I can do anything for you."
Another wide smile, so intoxicating, "You've got it, Sir... I mean, Michael."
From then on, things continued to get more challenging. The women from the lingerie company arrived, looking stunning themselves, and carrying a wide assortment of items that would look devastating on any of his anticipated guests.
When the guests arrived, it was like a flood of beauty. Mary Hart should have been filming them arrive, as each dress was more stunning, more clingy, and more perfectly suited to the woman wearing it than the last.
There were push-ups, low cuts, deep backs, flowing fabrics, high slits and skirts so tight they reduced the wearer to tiny steps. His cock was constantly straining at its confinement. He tried to keep his eyes from tracing the curve of each bottom, or diving down each open neckline, but it was hopeless.
When they were all there, he was surrounded by the loveliness of ten women, all of them stunning, all in his employ one way or another. Sara and Jessica working here at the house, Denise his driver, Michelle and Andrea who kept his books, Colleen and Amanda who were the legal department and Joanne, Ally and Christina who made up the secretarial pool.
Throughout the evening he was always on his toes, making sure every drink was full, guiding the muscular servers around to wherever he sensed an empty plate. Those men might look more overtly like objects for the women's consumption, but he knew he was the real toy that evening. He didn't know which of them would be playing yet, but he would be their object.
He kept himself on his feet. There was much to do and coordinate and he didn't dare sit and make it just that much more obvious that his ankles were covered by stockings instead of socks.
Miss Vicki arrived last, looking as innocent as he'd ever seen her. Her dress was simple yet so perfectly fitted to her form it must have been tailored. Light, with soft flowers in a subtle off-tone pattern, it was cut just low enough to stir his heart with her breathing. Another result of its perfect hugging of her curves was that it was absolutely evident that she didn't have a stitch on under it. He forced himself to keep from staring at her all night.
The actual lingerie session was pure torture. The women actually modeled a few of the pieces for the gathering, and as the only man in the room he was a constant focus. He had tried to keep out of the way, but they pulled him forward, wanting to show their potential customers a man's reaction to the various tiny scraps of lace. His body ached due to the cage, the titilizer and lust. Would he see one of these women standing over him wearing these things?
Would he be wearing them?
He noticed Michelle, a rather shy knockout from accounting actually blush at being in the simultaneous presence of her boss and lingerie. Others, Denise most notably, would look to him and smile slowly as she would run her fingers over a particularly devastating piece. The remainder of the guests seemed to act as if it was a girls-only night out. There had been a few bottles of wine opened and emptied by this time, so laughter and emotions were running free.
His mind was a blur, imagining each of them in the various outfits and costumes. He would also catch Miss Vicki's eye, or seeing her particular attention on something, and not be able to tell if she wanted it for her or for him. When all was said and done and the women made their choices and orders, he noted Vicki made sure to be heard ordering at least two items in his size.
The party ended too soon – and not soon enough. Each woman thanked him personally, often with a gentle kiss or a hug that risked expose the chain from his aching nipples. They would tell him that this was just one more reason they loved working for him, smiling and lingering near him, close enough that his buzzing senses were aware of each motion, each breath, each flick of the hair.
He feared their touch but at the same time, after such a sexually charged night, he would have begged to feel their breasts squashed tight against him.
The caterers had cleaned and gone. Sara and Jessica were off to their own quarters. He made his way finally up to his room in dimly lit silence. He heard the sweet voice of his Mistress before he saw her.
"Strip down to just what I've given you." Her voice was a throaty whisper.
In moments his trousers, shirt, jacket and shoes were discarded. He stood before her, eager and hungry, stripped down to panties and stockings and the teasing jewelry on his chest. Vickie pointed to heels waiting for him on the floor. He slid his feet, already aching, into them. Despite the three inches they added to his height he felt smaller.
She hadn't changed her dress. He felt her power, and the innocence of her dress contrasted with her words and what he knew of her true nature. She toyed with the buttons at her neckline, teasing him further.
He received a wide and wicked smile from his Mistress as she began to move around him. Padded leather cuffs went around his wrists, locked together, and she guided them up over his head, pulling his bound wrists down towards his shoulder blades with his elbows out beside his head. She fed a chain from his wrist cuffs down between his legs and clipped it to the cage holding his cock. Any motion of his arms was cruelly translated directly along the chain.
A spreader bar trapped and held wide his ankles. It was even more difficult now to balance on the heels. With him very effectively immobilized, Miss Vicki took just a bit more time to apply a whorish blush and bright red lipstick.
The titilizer was removed and with a soft purr she massaged his aching nipples. As if they were not red enough, she added lipstick to them as well.
Miss Vicki had made sure months ago that he had a full-height mirror on a rolling stand. It was moved in front of him now. His body was tight and strained, the bulge in his panties obscene. Though the lace he could see the steel of the cage. He looked so helpless, so controlled. While he drank in the humiliation, she wrote "SLAVE" across his forehead with the lipstick.
"Will you make me proud, slut?"
"Yes, Mistress, I will." He could barely speak. The anticipation had done its job. His nervous tension seemed to give a haze to his vision and he was sure anyone in the room could hear his heart beating.
"Good, pet. You've got two people to make happy tonight."
He didn't get any answer out before she filled his painted lips with a white rubber ball gag. It pushed past his teeth and held his jaw wide. She helped him down to his knees but even with her support the chain from his wrists tugged at his balls. She smiled at his position and slapped his ass as she moved to the bedroom door. She took one look back over her shoulder to drink in the moment before she swung it open.
At first there was nothing, only the candlelight from his bedroom spilling out into the dark hallway. After a couple pounding heartbeats nervous steps carried her into view. Wearing what had to be his favorite outfit from the party—a pure white satin and lace busier with red laces along with matching white stockings, garters and even white stilettos—stood the previously meek Michelle.
Her auburn hair, nearly always in a bun at work, flowed down in soft waves over her shoulders. The deep tan of her smooth skin set off the lingerie perfectly.
She was taking deep breaths, as her full D-cup breasts heaved in the tight embrace of the bustier. The bustier ended just high enough to display a diamond in her pierced navel.
There was shock and surprise in her eyes, but it didn't last long. It seemed to be vaporized by lust and desire. He noticed now that in one hand she held a black leather crop and in the other an uncomfortably large looking pink rubber phallus.
"Beware the meek ones, slut. Still waters run deep," Miss Vicki whispered and giggled in his ear.
The noise of the heavy door as Michelle slammed it shut behind her might have woken Sara and Jessica but Michael had much bigger worries at the moment.
To Be Continued...
* * *
Read more of ed's work and enjoy his favorite erotic photos at: http://mind-effing.tumblr.com/
Friday, June 4, 2010
A Working Day: Part 3: Afternoon
by Abe Froman (aka ed cantor)
I decided to break this installment up into "Afternoon" and "The Party" to keep you waiting a little longer.
~ Mistress Magick
[Begin with Part One]
* * *
Part 3: Afternoon
After the high of his service, after the arousal of seeing and smelling his Mistress, after the mind-bending experience of being exposed as a feminized slut to some woman he didn't see, Michael Davis was coming back down to reality. Reality, but not normality.
He was sitting at his desk, trying to work at least, but his mind was constantly wandering. He was physically distracted by what he was (and wasn't wearing), not to mention that the plug filling his backside that trapped his now-thawed cum in his ass. Each fidgeting motion he made in a vain attempt to be comfortable refreshed the ache he felt with.
The few times he had gotten out from behind his desk to walk to a bookshelf he could feel his face flushing at wearing the panties, stuffed bra and heels, even though he was alone. He could just imagine how he looked. His blinds were open as well. Everyone seemed to look at "the view" of the city and not at the specifics, but he was quite a view himself right now for anyone who might care to focus.
He now knew that his secret was not something Miss Vicki was going to keep to herself anymore either. She had said from the beginning that it was all up to her and she'd finally done it. He trusted her, but it was now fully real that one more piece of control was out of his hands and into hers.
Even when he answered the phone he felt exposed. Would they know he was dressed in lingerie while he talked to them? Not just panties, but with stockings and garters, and bra full of realistic looking and jiggling silicone D-cups. The times he was speaking to women he found himself listening for the slightest tone of amusement.
He found it much easier to serve his Mistress in her presence. He could sense her power; he could feel not only that she commanded his obedience but also that it aroused her. It was like a feedback loop that fed his desire like electricity. But now, alone, he started to feel the real power of Miss Vicki's humiliation of him. He looked like a fool. He'd swallowed his own cum. He'd serviced a woman, but not with his tongue, but with the other end of a rubber cock that had filled his own mouth.
As if in answer to his own thoughts, the intercom chimed.
"Yes, Mistress?" he answered as he'd long ago been commanded, each time feeling the tinge of further humiliation he'd feel if the voice at the other end was a different receptionist – it was certainly not unknown for the ladies to fill in for each other should a washroom or cigarette break be required.
"Hello, my slut," Miss Vicki's voice sang in response, reassuring him and driving any doubt from his mind. He'd do anything for this woman. "I've had an interesting idea."
"Yes, Mistress?" He hoped his nervous hesitation hadn't been too obvious.
"You are very lucky as you have not only a lovely and wicked assistant as your Mistress but you are also surrounded by many other stunning women in your life."
"Yes, I am Mistress, thank you." After all, it was she who had hired not only Denise, his driver, but also both of the women on his household staff. She'd also had a very powerful voice in the hiring of the rest of his office staff.
Michael knew she just loved to surround him with temptation. She loved to imagine how his cock would strain, either in tight panties or metal cages, as women so lovely as to be plucked from his dreams moved around him.
Even if he had been tempted, it would be tough explaining to one of them why he was wearing lingerie that day, or why his manhood was locked tight another, or who might have written "MINE" in permanent marker on his ass. So these beautiful women were kept at arms length even though some seemed to work very hard to tempt him into their skirts.
Did they know? He often wondered, but he was virtually sure they didn't.
Today's experience reassured him in a bizarre way. Even though Mistress's mystery guest had seemed excited to use him, her first reaction had been an audible gasp. He often worked to convince himself that he'd be able to see that reaction on the face of a woman who knew what was truly beneath his suit.
"Well," Vicki continued, "I think you should find a way to express your appreciation of all these lovely and talented women in your employ, don't you?"
"Yes, of course Mistress."
"Good. I knew you'd feel that way, so it's time I told you that you're hosting a party for them. It's tonight, by the way, and it's at your house."
Michael drew a deep breath, wondering how this was all going to end up.
"Not to worry, baby, I've taken care of everything." He could practically hear the smile on her lips as she spoke. "However, I do think it would be a good idea for you to go home now and supervise the preparations. After all, the two lovely ladies caring for your home will be guests and shouldn't have to work too hard. Besides, the Chippendales that you've hired as waiters will be getting there soon, and a chaperone might not be a bad idea." Vicki giggled.
Of course, thought Michael, I'll be providing studs for them to gaze at, while I'll likely be in pink tights
"So, now I want you to step out around in front of your desk, face the window, bent forward, hands on the desk, legs spread. I'll there in a few minutes."
He rushed into position. She might make him wait for a while but he had once experienced the result of not being in position in time and never wanted to again. So he waited, looking out over the city, wondering who might be looking back and a man in pink lingerie, plugged and waiting for the attention of his Mistress.
The door to his office opened and he said his silent prayer that it was her approaching. He heard her purr as her fingernails trailed over his exposed flesh. She stepped away and moved around him, taking in the view.
More fears realized as he heard her taking photos. Why did they still build that shutter sound into digital cameras?
Her hand returned and moved between his shoulder blades and the pressure guided him down, until he was squashing the silicone breasts against the surface of his desk. She pulled the panties down over his ass and turned and tugged the plug slowly out of him. He felt the deep ache of the plug moving and grit his teeth as the sensation transformed into one of openness and emptiness. His body was holding a memory of his service to her. She pulled the panties back up.
"The cum is already started to ooze out of you, pet. Those panties are going to be quite a mess by the time you get home." Her joy and shaming him was so evident. "You're going to just toss them in the laundry this time, pet. Maybe your housekeeper will think you kept a souvenir from some tramp you fucked – when you're really the tramp, aren't you pet?"
"Yes, Mistress."
She tugged the silicone breasts out of his bra and slid them into a drawer in his desk and then guided his feet out of the heels, which also were given a home in his desk. "You can stand now, baby, and turn to me."
He quickly complied, and she deftly tugged the front of his panties down and re-locked his cock into its metal cage. "You may get dressed again, pet, but the bra, panties and stockings stay on until you get home. Once you're home, I want you to check on the progress with Sara and Jessica, and then you can go to your bedroom and follow your instructions carefully. I'll be there soon to assist for a bit, and of course to enjoy your generous party."
Minutes later he was back in the limousine, with tightly attired Denise up front. She had found time while opening his door for him to offer up another generous gaze at her milky cleavage and offered a very joyful thanks for the gathering tonight. The metal cage hidden in his panties was cruelly containing another erection, as he had no option but to watch yet another erotic film that Miss Vicki had chosen for him. As the wheels crunched onto his driveway a very buxom blond was using her tongue to test the smoothness of the shave she'd given the pussy of redhead with matching figure that was currently held tight in chains.
Sending Denise to put away the car and relax until the party, he headed up into the house. He felt the sticky wet ooze of cum still making its way out of his ass and he was eager to get them off. He silently begged that a shower was included on his chore list.
Sara and Jessica, in their unofficial uniforms of snug, low-rise black trousers and form-fitting blouses (pink for Sara, a pale yellow on Jessica) greeting him deferentially. They had to turn away from three very fit servers to do it, and it was obvious these were the men from Chippendales. They oozed fitness and their chiselled faces seemed built for their confident smiles. Well, at least I'm taller, Michael thought.
It was clear that everything was under control. Just because his Mistress insisted that all his staff have long hair, a minimum C-cup chest and free and rewarded use of the house or company gym certainly didn't mean they weren't exemplary at their jobs. Excellent pay assisted in getting and keeping them happy. He quickly got out of their way and went to find out what wickedness he would next be enduring.
On his king size bed were two envelopes, numbered, both sealed.He tore open the first, "I'm sure you're having a wonderful day so far, slut, since I had to finger myself to orgasm twice just thinking of my plans for you. I'm sure you made me proud. Now to business. You know you're hosting a party tonight, and a host needs to be properly prepared and attired.
"You will shower, since I'm sure you need to, my cum-filled slut. In addition to getting your fine body clean, you'll be making sure your cock and balls are completely hairless. The keys to free them for the shower are in the soap dish. After your shower, once your little Mike is locked back up, you'll find your party under-things in the bottom drawer of your bathroom vanity. I wonder if anyone looked there while dusting today?
"Once you are clean and in your proper things you can put on my favourite cologne and return to the bedroom to open the second letter. Hurry, pet."
He moved into his en-suite and stripped down, thankful to be free of the humiliating lingerie especially his stained, sticky panties. He shuddered as he tossed them into the laundry hamper. They were sure to be noticed and he'd be facing silent, knowing smiles for probably just the wrong reasons that Mistress has mentioned.
The shower was a dream. Being able to unlock his genitals and clean his body of the cum, sweat and some of the shame of the day was heaven. But heaven had to end, and he got to work with the razor and shaving cream, carefully removing the stubble that had returned since he was last prepared this way.
Once finished, he gave himself a final rinse and towelled off. The cage went back on and he opened the drawer. He sighed.
It was quite a selection. He'd love to see them on a woman. Panties—a thong of course, all lace and bright red. Matching red garter belt with black fishnet stockings. Last, but not least, was something Miss Vicki liked to call a titilizer. Tiny little adjustable nooses went around his nipples, holding them stiff and erect, and the tug of the chain between them added to the subtle torture. He noted with a rueful smile that this set also had little sterling silver handcuffs as extra adornment.
He got dressed, not failing to notice his growing skill in getting into women's lingerie. He pinched his nipples to force them erect and carefully added their jewellery. Over time the slight ache will turn to a constant throb and tingling; one that will never allow him to forget the decoration. He gave a couple of squirts with the cologne and moved back into the bedroom.
Living with "servants" in the house meant that even something like walking into his bedroom like this could be a recipe for humiliation. Could Sara have come in to dust or empty some garbage can? They respected his privacy very well when they knew he was home, but he could never know what harmless event would leave him red-faced and one of them aghast.
This moment of heart-stoppage went by, as many did, but he couldn't quite get used to them. The chain tugging at his nipples swayed as he walked to the bed and picked up the second envelope.
"Well done, pet. I can just imagine how lovely you look. You know that I love you clean and gleaming from the shower, and picturing that steel clad bulge in those pretty panties makes my mouth water.
"Tonight you will be the perfect host for us. You are to dress in an elegant pair of dress pants, a silk shirt and my favorite jacket. You will show grace and thanks for all the lovely women who provide so much service to the different parts of your life. You will be attentive to their every need, as you are to mine.
"Today at lunch, I surprised you. I wanted to see your reaction to have your secret shared without any preparation. The fear, the tightening of your muscles. I had to tell our guest a bit, but not too much I wanted to see her reaction as well. Oh, and in case you are wondering, she will not be here tonight. I'll give you just enough of a clue to know that she doesn't work for you.
"There are two ways that I enjoy your submission to me. You've seen me use them before with other toys or tasks. Sometimes I like to surprise you, shock you – seeing your face as you realize the size of a plug only as it goes into you.
"The other is to let you know early, to make you run your future humiliation through your mind for hours before it happens. Have you guessed yet? Tonight is the sequel to your lunch. After your party tonight, I'm going to take you up to your bedroom, strip you down to your lace and display your body how I choose. Maybe I'll use rope or maybe I'll just command you to hold perfectly still.
"Then I'm going to bring in one of your party guests. I already know which one – she doesn't and neither will you until you see her open mouth at her boss in pretty panties.
"So, another reason to be good tonight, slut. You never know who you might need to treat you well later.
"Enjoy the anticipation, and I'll see you soon.
"Your Mistress, Vicki.
"p.s. you're hosting a lingerie party."
[Continue to Part Four]
* * *
Read more of ed's work and enjoy his favorite erotic photos at: http://mind-effing.tumblr.com/
~ Mistress Magick
[Begin with Part One]
* * *
Part 3: Afternoon
After the high of his service, after the arousal of seeing and smelling his Mistress, after the mind-bending experience of being exposed as a feminized slut to some woman he didn't see, Michael Davis was coming back down to reality. Reality, but not normality.
He was sitting at his desk, trying to work at least, but his mind was constantly wandering. He was physically distracted by what he was (and wasn't wearing), not to mention that the plug filling his backside that trapped his now-thawed cum in his ass. Each fidgeting motion he made in a vain attempt to be comfortable refreshed the ache he felt with.
The few times he had gotten out from behind his desk to walk to a bookshelf he could feel his face flushing at wearing the panties, stuffed bra and heels, even though he was alone. He could just imagine how he looked. His blinds were open as well. Everyone seemed to look at "the view" of the city and not at the specifics, but he was quite a view himself right now for anyone who might care to focus.
He now knew that his secret was not something Miss Vicki was going to keep to herself anymore either. She had said from the beginning that it was all up to her and she'd finally done it. He trusted her, but it was now fully real that one more piece of control was out of his hands and into hers.
Even when he answered the phone he felt exposed. Would they know he was dressed in lingerie while he talked to them? Not just panties, but with stockings and garters, and bra full of realistic looking and jiggling silicone D-cups. The times he was speaking to women he found himself listening for the slightest tone of amusement.
He found it much easier to serve his Mistress in her presence. He could sense her power; he could feel not only that she commanded his obedience but also that it aroused her. It was like a feedback loop that fed his desire like electricity. But now, alone, he started to feel the real power of Miss Vicki's humiliation of him. He looked like a fool. He'd swallowed his own cum. He'd serviced a woman, but not with his tongue, but with the other end of a rubber cock that had filled his own mouth.
As if in answer to his own thoughts, the intercom chimed.
"Yes, Mistress?" he answered as he'd long ago been commanded, each time feeling the tinge of further humiliation he'd feel if the voice at the other end was a different receptionist – it was certainly not unknown for the ladies to fill in for each other should a washroom or cigarette break be required.
"Hello, my slut," Miss Vicki's voice sang in response, reassuring him and driving any doubt from his mind. He'd do anything for this woman. "I've had an interesting idea."
"Yes, Mistress?" He hoped his nervous hesitation hadn't been too obvious.
"You are very lucky as you have not only a lovely and wicked assistant as your Mistress but you are also surrounded by many other stunning women in your life."
"Yes, I am Mistress, thank you." After all, it was she who had hired not only Denise, his driver, but also both of the women on his household staff. She'd also had a very powerful voice in the hiring of the rest of his office staff.
Michael knew she just loved to surround him with temptation. She loved to imagine how his cock would strain, either in tight panties or metal cages, as women so lovely as to be plucked from his dreams moved around him.
Even if he had been tempted, it would be tough explaining to one of them why he was wearing lingerie that day, or why his manhood was locked tight another, or who might have written "MINE" in permanent marker on his ass. So these beautiful women were kept at arms length even though some seemed to work very hard to tempt him into their skirts.
Did they know? He often wondered, but he was virtually sure they didn't.
Today's experience reassured him in a bizarre way. Even though Mistress's mystery guest had seemed excited to use him, her first reaction had been an audible gasp. He often worked to convince himself that he'd be able to see that reaction on the face of a woman who knew what was truly beneath his suit.
"Well," Vicki continued, "I think you should find a way to express your appreciation of all these lovely and talented women in your employ, don't you?"
"Yes, of course Mistress."
"Good. I knew you'd feel that way, so it's time I told you that you're hosting a party for them. It's tonight, by the way, and it's at your house."
Michael drew a deep breath, wondering how this was all going to end up.
"Not to worry, baby, I've taken care of everything." He could practically hear the smile on her lips as she spoke. "However, I do think it would be a good idea for you to go home now and supervise the preparations. After all, the two lovely ladies caring for your home will be guests and shouldn't have to work too hard. Besides, the Chippendales that you've hired as waiters will be getting there soon, and a chaperone might not be a bad idea." Vicki giggled.
Of course, thought Michael, I'll be providing studs for them to gaze at, while I'll likely be in pink tights
"So, now I want you to step out around in front of your desk, face the window, bent forward, hands on the desk, legs spread. I'll there in a few minutes."
He rushed into position. She might make him wait for a while but he had once experienced the result of not being in position in time and never wanted to again. So he waited, looking out over the city, wondering who might be looking back and a man in pink lingerie, plugged and waiting for the attention of his Mistress.
The door to his office opened and he said his silent prayer that it was her approaching. He heard her purr as her fingernails trailed over his exposed flesh. She stepped away and moved around him, taking in the view.
More fears realized as he heard her taking photos. Why did they still build that shutter sound into digital cameras?
Her hand returned and moved between his shoulder blades and the pressure guided him down, until he was squashing the silicone breasts against the surface of his desk. She pulled the panties down over his ass and turned and tugged the plug slowly out of him. He felt the deep ache of the plug moving and grit his teeth as the sensation transformed into one of openness and emptiness. His body was holding a memory of his service to her. She pulled the panties back up.
"The cum is already started to ooze out of you, pet. Those panties are going to be quite a mess by the time you get home." Her joy and shaming him was so evident. "You're going to just toss them in the laundry this time, pet. Maybe your housekeeper will think you kept a souvenir from some tramp you fucked – when you're really the tramp, aren't you pet?"
"Yes, Mistress."
She tugged the silicone breasts out of his bra and slid them into a drawer in his desk and then guided his feet out of the heels, which also were given a home in his desk. "You can stand now, baby, and turn to me."
He quickly complied, and she deftly tugged the front of his panties down and re-locked his cock into its metal cage. "You may get dressed again, pet, but the bra, panties and stockings stay on until you get home. Once you're home, I want you to check on the progress with Sara and Jessica, and then you can go to your bedroom and follow your instructions carefully. I'll be there soon to assist for a bit, and of course to enjoy your generous party."
Minutes later he was back in the limousine, with tightly attired Denise up front. She had found time while opening his door for him to offer up another generous gaze at her milky cleavage and offered a very joyful thanks for the gathering tonight. The metal cage hidden in his panties was cruelly containing another erection, as he had no option but to watch yet another erotic film that Miss Vicki had chosen for him. As the wheels crunched onto his driveway a very buxom blond was using her tongue to test the smoothness of the shave she'd given the pussy of redhead with matching figure that was currently held tight in chains.
Sending Denise to put away the car and relax until the party, he headed up into the house. He felt the sticky wet ooze of cum still making its way out of his ass and he was eager to get them off. He silently begged that a shower was included on his chore list.
Sara and Jessica, in their unofficial uniforms of snug, low-rise black trousers and form-fitting blouses (pink for Sara, a pale yellow on Jessica) greeting him deferentially. They had to turn away from three very fit servers to do it, and it was obvious these were the men from Chippendales. They oozed fitness and their chiselled faces seemed built for their confident smiles. Well, at least I'm taller, Michael thought.
It was clear that everything was under control. Just because his Mistress insisted that all his staff have long hair, a minimum C-cup chest and free and rewarded use of the house or company gym certainly didn't mean they weren't exemplary at their jobs. Excellent pay assisted in getting and keeping them happy. He quickly got out of their way and went to find out what wickedness he would next be enduring.
On his king size bed were two envelopes, numbered, both sealed.He tore open the first, "I'm sure you're having a wonderful day so far, slut, since I had to finger myself to orgasm twice just thinking of my plans for you. I'm sure you made me proud. Now to business. You know you're hosting a party tonight, and a host needs to be properly prepared and attired.
"You will shower, since I'm sure you need to, my cum-filled slut. In addition to getting your fine body clean, you'll be making sure your cock and balls are completely hairless. The keys to free them for the shower are in the soap dish. After your shower, once your little Mike is locked back up, you'll find your party under-things in the bottom drawer of your bathroom vanity. I wonder if anyone looked there while dusting today?
"Once you are clean and in your proper things you can put on my favourite cologne and return to the bedroom to open the second letter. Hurry, pet."
He moved into his en-suite and stripped down, thankful to be free of the humiliating lingerie especially his stained, sticky panties. He shuddered as he tossed them into the laundry hamper. They were sure to be noticed and he'd be facing silent, knowing smiles for probably just the wrong reasons that Mistress has mentioned.
The shower was a dream. Being able to unlock his genitals and clean his body of the cum, sweat and some of the shame of the day was heaven. But heaven had to end, and he got to work with the razor and shaving cream, carefully removing the stubble that had returned since he was last prepared this way.
Once finished, he gave himself a final rinse and towelled off. The cage went back on and he opened the drawer. He sighed.
It was quite a selection. He'd love to see them on a woman. Panties—a thong of course, all lace and bright red. Matching red garter belt with black fishnet stockings. Last, but not least, was something Miss Vicki liked to call a titilizer. Tiny little adjustable nooses went around his nipples, holding them stiff and erect, and the tug of the chain between them added to the subtle torture. He noted with a rueful smile that this set also had little sterling silver handcuffs as extra adornment.
He got dressed, not failing to notice his growing skill in getting into women's lingerie. He pinched his nipples to force them erect and carefully added their jewellery. Over time the slight ache will turn to a constant throb and tingling; one that will never allow him to forget the decoration. He gave a couple of squirts with the cologne and moved back into the bedroom.
Living with "servants" in the house meant that even something like walking into his bedroom like this could be a recipe for humiliation. Could Sara have come in to dust or empty some garbage can? They respected his privacy very well when they knew he was home, but he could never know what harmless event would leave him red-faced and one of them aghast.
This moment of heart-stoppage went by, as many did, but he couldn't quite get used to them. The chain tugging at his nipples swayed as he walked to the bed and picked up the second envelope.
"Well done, pet. I can just imagine how lovely you look. You know that I love you clean and gleaming from the shower, and picturing that steel clad bulge in those pretty panties makes my mouth water.
"Tonight you will be the perfect host for us. You are to dress in an elegant pair of dress pants, a silk shirt and my favorite jacket. You will show grace and thanks for all the lovely women who provide so much service to the different parts of your life. You will be attentive to their every need, as you are to mine.
"Today at lunch, I surprised you. I wanted to see your reaction to have your secret shared without any preparation. The fear, the tightening of your muscles. I had to tell our guest a bit, but not too much I wanted to see her reaction as well. Oh, and in case you are wondering, she will not be here tonight. I'll give you just enough of a clue to know that she doesn't work for you.
"There are two ways that I enjoy your submission to me. You've seen me use them before with other toys or tasks. Sometimes I like to surprise you, shock you – seeing your face as you realize the size of a plug only as it goes into you.
"The other is to let you know early, to make you run your future humiliation through your mind for hours before it happens. Have you guessed yet? Tonight is the sequel to your lunch. After your party tonight, I'm going to take you up to your bedroom, strip you down to your lace and display your body how I choose. Maybe I'll use rope or maybe I'll just command you to hold perfectly still.
"Then I'm going to bring in one of your party guests. I already know which one – she doesn't and neither will you until you see her open mouth at her boss in pretty panties.
"So, another reason to be good tonight, slut. You never know who you might need to treat you well later.
"Enjoy the anticipation, and I'll see you soon.
"Your Mistress, Vicki.
"p.s. you're hosting a lingerie party."
[Continue to Part Four]
* * *
Read more of ed's work and enjoy his favorite erotic photos at: http://mind-effing.tumblr.com/
Sunday, May 30, 2010
A Working Day: Part 2: Lunch
by Abe Froman (aka ed cantor)
Part 2 in this yummy story by my boy, ed cantor. ~ Mistress Magick
[Begin with Part One]
Part 2: Lunch
The hour of noon had arrived finally, and each minute that now ticked past seemed like an hour. But Michael knew better than to do anything but wait. He hadn't walked much, but his feet were very aware of the heels that trapped them. His ass had been plugged full for hours now, but it was not the kind of thing you got used to.
At about quarter after, the door to his office opened suddenly and without warning. He was frozen in his chair.
It was Miss Vicki with a wicked smile adorning her face.
"Nervous, slut? Worried someone snuck past while I was in the washroom?" She giggled at his predicament. "I'll bet you're wondering how many times I left to go to the washroom this morning – or did I just go for a walk and leave the door unguarded."
"Yes Mistress," was the only response he could muster.
"Well it is time for your special lunch." She locked the door to his office, which seemed a rather ominous sign after this morning, he thought. "Remove the trousers and jacket, slut. I want to see those lovely panties and bra."
Inside of a minute, he was again standing in the middle of his office in lingerie and heels.
"Bend over, whore, and spread your legs."
Once he was in position, he felt her fingers over his legs, his ass and then teasing down to wiggle the plug stuffing him. "Nice and full, slut? Nice and full of rubber and cum?"
"Yes Mistress."
"It's lunch time, slut. Are you hungry?" she changed the subject quickly.
"Yes Mistress, I am."
"Well, you'll eat soon enough, but we've got a few things to do first. Now, you know that you're my little slut, don't you?"
"Yes Mistress."
"You know that I own you completely. I can make you do anything for me, and that everything you are and that you've accomplished is really mine now. What you have is only what I've allowed you to keep. Think about that, don't answer right away. Think about it. Then tell me."
It was more than just obedience that made him run the thought through is mind. This morning had proved it for the hundredth time. If she wanted, she could expose him in this lingerie or in any of the other outfits he'd worn for her. Or she could share the many photos of his eager service. His life, his reputation and his career were in her hands.
"Yes Mistress, I know that I am yours completely."
"Good. It's good that you know it. Do you accept it?"
The feeling swelling through him made this answer easier. "Yes Mistress, I accept it, and I beg for it. I wouldn't want to be anything but yours."
"That is very good, slut; especially due to what I have planned for you today. I want you to remember what you've just told me through every minute." Her look travelled through his eyes down deep into his soul.
"Now, on your knees, slut. Put your wrists behind your back, and keep your knees spread."
He moved into position, and found it one that gave him yet again a new awareness of the plug. His bra-full of silicone breasts were pushed forwards. Behind him, she expertly locked his wrists in leather cuffs, trapping them together. As she pulled out a gag and showed it to him, he obediently opened his mouth for it. A small penis-shaped rubber object pushed between his teeth, and the leather strap secured behind his head locked it tight. She showed him his face now with a small mirror, and he noticed a silver ring flat against the leather of the gag. She set down the mirror and removed a large bright pink dildo from her bag. There was a gleam in her eye as she secured the base of it to his gag, and once again the mirror was raised to show it obscenely jutting from his face.
"One more piece of preparation, slut."
And with that, she drew out the blindfold. Buckled on firmly, it plunged him completely in darkness. Without other sights to distract him, he was again very aware of how he must look.
The knock on the door jerked him out of his thoughts and his heart was pounding in his chest.
"Oh lovely, our guest is here."
He heard Miss Vicki move to the door and open it. The gasp he heard was someone else's.
"Shhh now love, we don't want to give our little slut any clues," Miss Vicki instructed.
She had finally done it. She'd shared his most closely guarded secret. She'd shared her possession with someone. He could barely think over the sound of his heart pounding and the buzzing in his head. But his aching cock trying to stiffen in its cage betrayed to himself how he really felt.
"Now, slut," Miss Vicki continued, "you are going to be a good little girl for our guest, and make me proud. Aren't you?"
He nodded, and felt his face redden with shame as he felt the toy cock locked to his face shake.
"Good girl." Then Miss Vicki turned to her guest. "Go ahead love, explore her, have some fun."
Strange hands were suddenly on his body, sliding over his face, his chest, under his face breasts to tease and tweak his nipples. They reached inside his panties and felt the cruel cage trapping his cock. They guided his body forwards, pushing his face to the carpet, and explored the base of the plug inside him.
"That plug is trapping cum in his ass, love. I won't tell you whose it is."
Miss Vicki giggled and he heard another gasp from the unknown woman.
Then her fingers were on his face again, actually stroking the dildo locked to his gag harness.
"Do you want it?" Vicki asked her.
He could only assume she nodded, because the next thing he heard was his Mistresses command to move onto his back. She re-cuffed his hands over his head to allow him to lie flat on the carpet. He knew it was coming, but he was still not fully prepared for the sensation of this unknown woman lowering herself over his body – his body dressed in pink panties and a stuffed bra, in heels and stockings. She lowered herself slowly. He felt her thighs against his arms, his chest. He smelled her more than anything.
Then the pressure against his gag, and he knew. He ached to see this mystery cunt filling itself with the dildo on his face. His own cock screamed to be set free, to be allowed to stand freely erect. But all he could do was lay there, feeling her using his face to please herself, smelling her arousal with the deep breaths he was forced to take through his nose. He did know better than to just lie there though, and he worked to please her as best he could. He moved his face with her thrusts, matching them, swirling and dancing the dildo inside her.
She couldn't stop herself soon, and low but building guttural moans were making their way from her. Her juices her gripping down the dildo, towards his face as she rode it. He was sure Miss Vicki was smiling and fingering herself as she watched.
He felt her fuck his face faster and faster, her urgency building with the volume of her moans. Finally, the moans erupted into a scream and she came wet and loud on top of him. She collapsed down, and for a few panicked seconds her position on his face blocked all breathing, but when she was able to roll off him, her nectar was left all over his face, drawn in to his nostrils strongly.
"Mmmm, that was so good to watch, love, I can only imagine how it felt."
There was a mumbled response, likely all she could manage.
"Now, I want to show you something else," and again there was that wicked joy in Vicki's voice. "Slut, get up for me, stand up."
He worked his way up onto his legs, struggling a bit to balance blind on heels with his hands cuffed together before him.
"Pull down your panties, slut."
Again he had to make due with cuffed hands as he slid the tiny bit of satin down his thighs and off over his heels. He felt her fingertips sliding over his caged manhood. She loved to taunt him, so it was a surprise when her fingers moved to free him of it.
"Back down on your knees, slut. Keep those legs spread."
He slid back down the floor, feeling his high heels beneath the cheeks of his full ass as he spread his thighs wide, displaying his freed cock. It was clear now to Vicki's guest that he was kept completely shaved.
"Would you like to cum, slut? Would you like to show us how much of your cum you're keeping in those blue balls? Hmmmm?"
He nodded, shaking the sticky dildo once more.
"Okay, my horny little slut. You can jerk your horny cock for us, while we watch. You've got five minutes to cum, but don't cum without permission. You may nod to ask permission."
With his wrists cuffed, his two hands worked in partnership. One stroking his needy prick, the other massaging his full balls. With the knowledge of his embarrassing position, the plug inside him, face breasts jiggling on his chest, and an audience of his Mistress and her guest, he didn't need anywhere near the time allowed. Images from the whole week of his service filled his head, then his driver taunting him, the movie in the car, then having his face fucked in his office, leaving a sweet scent that still filled his senses. He was nodding urgently in two minutes.
"Ready to cum already, slut? Oh my, how hungry you must be."
He knew better than to stop stroking, despite being so close to explosion, but it took all his will to hold back. He heard her shifting around him.
Another surprise hit him, as her hands pulled his from his cock. Was she going to deny him? In seconds she freed them only to cuff them again behind his back. He was moaning around his gag. Frustration turned to pure joy as he now felt her firm grip replace his. She stroked him hard and tight, and his whole body was trembling.
"Cum now, slut, cum now. Cum hot and full for your Mistress. Show our guest how much jism you're saving for me."
The explosion started in an instant and kept coming. Spasm after spasm of his body ejected the thick cum in heavy ropes. His whole body savoured the sweet release. With a final grunt from behind the leather, he was spent, and he slumped so slightly.
With a shared wink to her guest, he heard Vicki lift a plate from between his thighs. Her expert hand had guided the thick cum into rows on the open roast beef sandwich. The woman, wet again from his performance, had to slap her hand over her mouth to keep silent.
Vicki guided him to his feet and to the sofa. He was inches from the strange woman and he could sense the electricity. Her novice hands unbuckled his gag, the dildo still swaying from it, and his mouth was emptied. The penis gag slid out covered in his drool.
His hands still cuffed behind him, he was slowly and lovingly fed the sandwich by the guest. With his second bite, he was positive of where his cum had gone, and once again felt an inner humiliation that he now recognized the taste so readily. He was starving, and ate eagerly. He was offered a mouthful of water to wash the last bite down, and licked his lips afterwards.
"Thank you, Mistress, thank you for allowing me to serve and feed."
"You are welcome, slut. Now, one more thing," she turned once more to her guest, "do you want to?"
Still blindfolded, he knew nothing of her response – just Miss Vicki's reaction. "Okay slut, hands on your desk, and bend forward, back arched, legs spread."
He felt his way there and complied.
The fingers that felt their way between his ass cheeks were tentative, still nervous, so he knew it was not Miss Vicki. He groaned as she pulled and twisted the plug from him. His face was red with further humiliation.
"See how open he is now?" Vicki explained, "He's been stuffed with it all morning."
And he did feel open. Open and exposed. But in minutes that feeling was over. Mistress explained for a new audience what exactly the cloudy ice cubes were as she pushed five more into him, and plugged him tight once more. The panties were slid back up his legs.
His goodbye kiss to Miss Vicki's guest was carefully and lovingly placed to her sex. He could tell she was groomed, but not shaved. A minute later she was gone.
Alone again with Miss Vicki, he blinked in the bright light with the removal of the blindfold.
"You made me proud, slut, and you'll be rewarded for it," she said with a heartfelt smile. But for the rest of the day, you'll still sit on your cum-filled and plugged ass, and work there with your nice tits. But clearly after lunch, you're too shameful a whore to need any of your suit."
And then she was gone with his clothes and he was alone with his thoughts. Alone behind a large oak desk in high heels, stockings and garters, a pink thong covering a plug screwing cum into his ass, carrying D cup breasts in pink lace on his chest. He was a whore. He was Miss Vicki's whore.
And now he was exposed as that whore to another woman. A woman he might never know, but he'd be looking for that spark of knowing recognition in the eyes of every woman he'd meet from that day on.
[Continue to Part Three]
* * *
[Begin with Part One]
* * *
The hour of noon had arrived finally, and each minute that now ticked past seemed like an hour. But Michael knew better than to do anything but wait. He hadn't walked much, but his feet were very aware of the heels that trapped them. His ass had been plugged full for hours now, but it was not the kind of thing you got used to.
At about quarter after, the door to his office opened suddenly and without warning. He was frozen in his chair.
It was Miss Vicki with a wicked smile adorning her face.
"Nervous, slut? Worried someone snuck past while I was in the washroom?" She giggled at his predicament. "I'll bet you're wondering how many times I left to go to the washroom this morning – or did I just go for a walk and leave the door unguarded."
"Yes Mistress," was the only response he could muster.
"Well it is time for your special lunch." She locked the door to his office, which seemed a rather ominous sign after this morning, he thought. "Remove the trousers and jacket, slut. I want to see those lovely panties and bra."
Inside of a minute, he was again standing in the middle of his office in lingerie and heels.
"Bend over, whore, and spread your legs."
Once he was in position, he felt her fingers over his legs, his ass and then teasing down to wiggle the plug stuffing him. "Nice and full, slut? Nice and full of rubber and cum?"
"Yes Mistress."
"It's lunch time, slut. Are you hungry?" she changed the subject quickly.
"Yes Mistress, I am."
"Well, you'll eat soon enough, but we've got a few things to do first. Now, you know that you're my little slut, don't you?"
"Yes Mistress."
"You know that I own you completely. I can make you do anything for me, and that everything you are and that you've accomplished is really mine now. What you have is only what I've allowed you to keep. Think about that, don't answer right away. Think about it. Then tell me."
It was more than just obedience that made him run the thought through is mind. This morning had proved it for the hundredth time. If she wanted, she could expose him in this lingerie or in any of the other outfits he'd worn for her. Or she could share the many photos of his eager service. His life, his reputation and his career were in her hands.
"Yes Mistress, I know that I am yours completely."
"Good. It's good that you know it. Do you accept it?"
The feeling swelling through him made this answer easier. "Yes Mistress, I accept it, and I beg for it. I wouldn't want to be anything but yours."
"That is very good, slut; especially due to what I have planned for you today. I want you to remember what you've just told me through every minute." Her look travelled through his eyes down deep into his soul.
"Now, on your knees, slut. Put your wrists behind your back, and keep your knees spread."
He moved into position, and found it one that gave him yet again a new awareness of the plug. His bra-full of silicone breasts were pushed forwards. Behind him, she expertly locked his wrists in leather cuffs, trapping them together. As she pulled out a gag and showed it to him, he obediently opened his mouth for it. A small penis-shaped rubber object pushed between his teeth, and the leather strap secured behind his head locked it tight. She showed him his face now with a small mirror, and he noticed a silver ring flat against the leather of the gag. She set down the mirror and removed a large bright pink dildo from her bag. There was a gleam in her eye as she secured the base of it to his gag, and once again the mirror was raised to show it obscenely jutting from his face.
"One more piece of preparation, slut."
And with that, she drew out the blindfold. Buckled on firmly, it plunged him completely in darkness. Without other sights to distract him, he was again very aware of how he must look.
The knock on the door jerked him out of his thoughts and his heart was pounding in his chest.
"Oh lovely, our guest is here."
He heard Miss Vicki move to the door and open it. The gasp he heard was someone else's.
"Shhh now love, we don't want to give our little slut any clues," Miss Vicki instructed.
She had finally done it. She'd shared his most closely guarded secret. She'd shared her possession with someone. He could barely think over the sound of his heart pounding and the buzzing in his head. But his aching cock trying to stiffen in its cage betrayed to himself how he really felt.
"Now, slut," Miss Vicki continued, "you are going to be a good little girl for our guest, and make me proud. Aren't you?"
He nodded, and felt his face redden with shame as he felt the toy cock locked to his face shake.
"Good girl." Then Miss Vicki turned to her guest. "Go ahead love, explore her, have some fun."
Strange hands were suddenly on his body, sliding over his face, his chest, under his face breasts to tease and tweak his nipples. They reached inside his panties and felt the cruel cage trapping his cock. They guided his body forwards, pushing his face to the carpet, and explored the base of the plug inside him.
"That plug is trapping cum in his ass, love. I won't tell you whose it is."
Miss Vicki giggled and he heard another gasp from the unknown woman.
Then her fingers were on his face again, actually stroking the dildo locked to his gag harness.
"Do you want it?" Vicki asked her.
He could only assume she nodded, because the next thing he heard was his Mistresses command to move onto his back. She re-cuffed his hands over his head to allow him to lie flat on the carpet. He knew it was coming, but he was still not fully prepared for the sensation of this unknown woman lowering herself over his body – his body dressed in pink panties and a stuffed bra, in heels and stockings. She lowered herself slowly. He felt her thighs against his arms, his chest. He smelled her more than anything.
Then the pressure against his gag, and he knew. He ached to see this mystery cunt filling itself with the dildo on his face. His own cock screamed to be set free, to be allowed to stand freely erect. But all he could do was lay there, feeling her using his face to please herself, smelling her arousal with the deep breaths he was forced to take through his nose. He did know better than to just lie there though, and he worked to please her as best he could. He moved his face with her thrusts, matching them, swirling and dancing the dildo inside her.
She couldn't stop herself soon, and low but building guttural moans were making their way from her. Her juices her gripping down the dildo, towards his face as she rode it. He was sure Miss Vicki was smiling and fingering herself as she watched.
He felt her fuck his face faster and faster, her urgency building with the volume of her moans. Finally, the moans erupted into a scream and she came wet and loud on top of him. She collapsed down, and for a few panicked seconds her position on his face blocked all breathing, but when she was able to roll off him, her nectar was left all over his face, drawn in to his nostrils strongly.
"Mmmm, that was so good to watch, love, I can only imagine how it felt."
There was a mumbled response, likely all she could manage.
"Now, I want to show you something else," and again there was that wicked joy in Vicki's voice. "Slut, get up for me, stand up."
He worked his way up onto his legs, struggling a bit to balance blind on heels with his hands cuffed together before him.
"Pull down your panties, slut."
Again he had to make due with cuffed hands as he slid the tiny bit of satin down his thighs and off over his heels. He felt her fingertips sliding over his caged manhood. She loved to taunt him, so it was a surprise when her fingers moved to free him of it.
"Back down on your knees, slut. Keep those legs spread."
He slid back down the floor, feeling his high heels beneath the cheeks of his full ass as he spread his thighs wide, displaying his freed cock. It was clear now to Vicki's guest that he was kept completely shaved.
"Would you like to cum, slut? Would you like to show us how much of your cum you're keeping in those blue balls? Hmmmm?"
He nodded, shaking the sticky dildo once more.
"Okay, my horny little slut. You can jerk your horny cock for us, while we watch. You've got five minutes to cum, but don't cum without permission. You may nod to ask permission."
With his wrists cuffed, his two hands worked in partnership. One stroking his needy prick, the other massaging his full balls. With the knowledge of his embarrassing position, the plug inside him, face breasts jiggling on his chest, and an audience of his Mistress and her guest, he didn't need anywhere near the time allowed. Images from the whole week of his service filled his head, then his driver taunting him, the movie in the car, then having his face fucked in his office, leaving a sweet scent that still filled his senses. He was nodding urgently in two minutes.
"Ready to cum already, slut? Oh my, how hungry you must be."
He knew better than to stop stroking, despite being so close to explosion, but it took all his will to hold back. He heard her shifting around him.
Another surprise hit him, as her hands pulled his from his cock. Was she going to deny him? In seconds she freed them only to cuff them again behind his back. He was moaning around his gag. Frustration turned to pure joy as he now felt her firm grip replace his. She stroked him hard and tight, and his whole body was trembling.
"Cum now, slut, cum now. Cum hot and full for your Mistress. Show our guest how much jism you're saving for me."
The explosion started in an instant and kept coming. Spasm after spasm of his body ejected the thick cum in heavy ropes. His whole body savoured the sweet release. With a final grunt from behind the leather, he was spent, and he slumped so slightly.
With a shared wink to her guest, he heard Vicki lift a plate from between his thighs. Her expert hand had guided the thick cum into rows on the open roast beef sandwich. The woman, wet again from his performance, had to slap her hand over her mouth to keep silent.
Vicki guided him to his feet and to the sofa. He was inches from the strange woman and he could sense the electricity. Her novice hands unbuckled his gag, the dildo still swaying from it, and his mouth was emptied. The penis gag slid out covered in his drool.
His hands still cuffed behind him, he was slowly and lovingly fed the sandwich by the guest. With his second bite, he was positive of where his cum had gone, and once again felt an inner humiliation that he now recognized the taste so readily. He was starving, and ate eagerly. He was offered a mouthful of water to wash the last bite down, and licked his lips afterwards.
"Thank you, Mistress, thank you for allowing me to serve and feed."
"You are welcome, slut. Now, one more thing," she turned once more to her guest, "do you want to?"
Still blindfolded, he knew nothing of her response – just Miss Vicki's reaction. "Okay slut, hands on your desk, and bend forward, back arched, legs spread."
He felt his way there and complied.
The fingers that felt their way between his ass cheeks were tentative, still nervous, so he knew it was not Miss Vicki. He groaned as she pulled and twisted the plug from him. His face was red with further humiliation.
"See how open he is now?" Vicki explained, "He's been stuffed with it all morning."
And he did feel open. Open and exposed. But in minutes that feeling was over. Mistress explained for a new audience what exactly the cloudy ice cubes were as she pushed five more into him, and plugged him tight once more. The panties were slid back up his legs.
His goodbye kiss to Miss Vicki's guest was carefully and lovingly placed to her sex. He could tell she was groomed, but not shaved. A minute later she was gone.
Alone again with Miss Vicki, he blinked in the bright light with the removal of the blindfold.
"You made me proud, slut, and you'll be rewarded for it," she said with a heartfelt smile. But for the rest of the day, you'll still sit on your cum-filled and plugged ass, and work there with your nice tits. But clearly after lunch, you're too shameful a whore to need any of your suit."
And then she was gone with his clothes and he was alone with his thoughts. Alone behind a large oak desk in high heels, stockings and garters, a pink thong covering a plug screwing cum into his ass, carrying D cup breasts in pink lace on his chest. He was a whore. He was Miss Vicki's whore.
And now he was exposed as that whore to another woman. A woman he might never know, but he'd be looking for that spark of knowing recognition in the eyes of every woman he'd meet from that day on.
[Continue to Part Three]
* * *
Read more of ed's work and enjoy his favorite erotic photos at: http://mind-effing.tumblr.com/
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