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The Agreement

By: Matt Moreau



Harry paced the room and literally wrung his hands. He'd lost interest in work. He'd lost his appetite. Sleep? What was that. Women! The most giving creatures on the planet; his the most giving of all. And he was not happy. How could he tell her—what if he broke her heart. But he had to risk it. He was being unfair to her he told himself. He was what he was and she was what she was and there was but slight damn chance that ever the twain would meet if things kept going the way they were. He had to try, and the worst of it was that he wasn't sure. After all of his hand wringing, after all of his mental anguish, after all of the confab with Royce, what if...

He heard her car pull into the driveway. It was now or never. The back door was opening. He heard her footsteps as he always did this time of day.

"Hi," was his singularly weak opening.

"Marla, can you get these papers processed before you go home," said Mad Maxine Cabrera the bank's vice president in charge of operations. She'd been dubbed Mad Max a long time before; something about being a hard-nosed theory-X manager type. She was a striking woman. Maybe five-foot nine inches tall, raven hair, voluptuous figure, pale olive complexion with not a hint of a wrinkle at her age forty-four.

"Certainly, Max. Want `em in the outgoing when I'm done?"

"No. I've got to look them over before we send them out. Big bucks, you know."

"Isn't it always?" asked the slim petite redhead?" Marla Gilbert was delicate looking and gorgeous. She sported freckles that gave her a teenagerish look even at her age thirty-eight. Her A-cup breasts and her sculptured butt emphasized her youthful appearance.

"Yes. Of course. Wouldn't be very fun if the bucks weren't big." Maxine turned and started to walk away when she heard her subordinate call her back.

"Miss Cabrera..." Marla's voice trailed off. Maxine noticed, crossed herarms, and leaned back against the edge of the large oaken desk.

"Yes Marla?"

"Oh nothing," said the redhead suddenly uncomfortable and hoping that her superior would let it ride and go.

"Marla, if it's personal, you can tell me to butt out and I will. If it's about the business, then get on with it. We have no secrets from each other, not us." She smiled as she said this last. Her pussy became stimulated by the mere thought of some of the times -- few and far between though they had been -- that the two of them had shared.

"I don't know. Maybe it's something that were better left unsaid," said Marla looking undecided and slightly forlorn.

"I see. Anything at all that I can do? I mean, like I said, there need not be any secrets between us."

"I don't know. Oh, I guess. Harry and I are in kind of the doldrums these days."

"By `doldrums' you mean in terms of sex."

"Yes, that mainly, and money problems too, and it's all my fault. I don't know how to please him. I think he is bored and quietly angry with me."

"You do." Maxine did a slow half pivot and paced a few steps off in front of the desk. She turned back to Marla, "No."

"Huh?"

"I said, no. He's not angry with you. He may be frustrated with the current state of things, but Harry Gilbert is too bright a fellow to be blaming the best thing that ever happened to him for the miniscule problems you two have."

"Miniscule! How dare you..."

"How dare I. Who bailed you out of debt last year and will again if necessary? Who made sure his company hired a balding septuagenarian for his secretary, so you wouldn't have to worry? Who rushed you to the hospital when you had that kidney stone problem three years ago."

"Sorry. You're right. But our problems are not small to us. You gotta give me that."

"Well, I'm sorry too I guess. Problems are always a matter of perception. Almost never a matter of fact. Want some advice?"

"Oh yes."

"Do something to shake him up sexually. Something completely off the wall. That'll fix him up."

"Easy to say, but what?" asked Marla with knitted brows.

"Is your problem with sex your problem or his problem?"

"I probably should say it's both of ours. But, the truth is it is mostly him. The sex for me is pretty good."

"If it's pretty good, it's terrible. Sex should always be sensational. When your man bends you over and pushes his thing up to the hilt; well, it should be the best, always the best."

Marla blushed like an ingenue on her first cycle. " I do like it when he screws me. But, he is such a bastard sometimes, not caring what I want or what I need. He just fucks me and rolls over. But, it is heaven while he's in me; he's very thick you know." 

"Do you ever talk to him about your feelings and needs? Ever put the onus on him?"

"Yes, sometimes. But he doesn't seem to hear me."

"Do you whine about it?"

"I guess. I hate myself afterward for being so selfish, but I do have certain wants. I guess I'm not very patient. Maybe it is my problem too"

"Yes, and you're entitled to them; I mean your wants and your problems. But, you shouldn't whine. Harry should tan your bottom for that. It's his duty as your husband to make sure you learn obedience and to do your duty. You understand that."

"Yes, I understand. But, Harry is too wimpy to spank me even when I'm being bratty."

"Then you have to train him."

"Train him? We're talking about him spanking me aren't we?"

"Yes. A woman, some women, sometimes needs to know her man will take her in hand. It gives her a feeling of security. Men think that we are the weaker sex. We aren't, but we are the submissive sex -- usually."

"I guess so."

"Oh it's true. Train that man of yours. Train him soon."

"How?"

"Tell him about us for starters."

"What! You want me to get served with divorce papers! He'd never understand; he'd probably have you arrested and me committed, or try to."

"He couldn't. We're consenting adults. What have we done? On rare occasions we've engaged in a `no strings' tryst. Gotta tell you, I'm beginning to get the urge right now, and that's a fact."

"You mean you want to do me now?" Marla flushed. She felt the eyes of the taller woman boring holes in her sheath dress.

"Absolutely. I want to spank you too. I think you'll look nice jerking and bouncing and squealing while you get the wrong end of my new hairbrush."

Marla flushed redder than she had in recent memory. She could not resist the taller woman. She loved her dominant ways. It had been a fantasy that she had long nurtured privately, but that she had only been able to express since the day Maxine had finally had enough of her moping around and had taken her in hand—literally.

Marla had been shocked by the strength of the larger woman as her wrist had been grabbed and used to pull her along to the store room in the back of the office. There, as Maxine seated herself on a large packing crate, she had felt herself pulled across a pair of very shapely knees and spanked quite smartly. She'd cried crocodile tears for sometime after; but later, she had gone to Maxine and thanked her for the lesson she had been taught—and she had thanked her on her knees. 

From that impromptu beginning, a relationship between the two disparate females had been born and had grown. Marla was now the unambiguous bottom to Maxine's top in their little B&D arrangement. Sex had entered into their little game at some point that neither of the two of them could now accurately recall.

"Lift your dress," said Maxine, "I want to see your panties."

Marla was composed now. She knew what Maxine would do next, so she just obeyed and lifted her dress. She was wearing dark green french-cuts. Her slit was clearly visible where her legs came together at the base of her tummy. "Like the color?" she asked impishly.

"My yes," said Maxine. "Come over here."

Marla complied and dropped to her knees. She bent forward and kissed her mistress on her lower belly. "You may lift my skirt and do that Marla. I want you to kiss me down there."

Marla lifted her boss' skirt and kissed her again just above her vulva. Maxine shuddered at the feel of Marla's lips on her body. "Now pull down my panties and kiss me again—all over," commanded Maxine.

Slowly, very slowly Marla pulled her boss' panties down to her ankles. She then kissed her again on the now exposed lower abdomen. Soon Marla was turning her head sideways to trace her friends slit with her tongue. She pried the other's two legs apart enough for her to gain access to her sex. She began licking her inner thighs, then her slit again, then her hole. 

She did everything she could to penetrate Maxine's pussy as much as she could with her tongue. Soon Maxine was shivering in the first throes of a violent climax. Maxine grabbed her paramours head and forced it to remain pressed against her sex. She ground her pussy into the face of the woman at her feet.

Marla squatted back on her ankles now. She awaited her next duty. She did not wait long. "Strip naked for me Marla. I wan to see you, all of you."

Marla stood and did an amateur striptease for her boss. Finally she stood naked, girlish tits jutting out in front of Maxine. Her time had come...

******

Marla gently stroked the red welts that crisscrossed her naked buttocks after her spanking. Maxine, having dressed, gazed in bemused fashion upon the naked splendor of her "bottom's" buttocks. She smiled with satisfaction that Marla, a gal so incredibly wantable, would have permitted herself to be dominated and controlled by her--by anybody for that matter. But, subs were subs and dommes were dommes and no one could say with any definitude why one was one and another was--well, no one completely understood anything about B&D.

"What do you think, Marla, want me to talk to him?" asked Maxine helpfully.

"I don't know, Maxine. Harry and I are kinda ordinary, at least when it comes to each other. Until—well—until you, I never dreamed of trying anything adventurous. I'm afraid Harry would go bonkers if I even suggested something like what you and I do to him."

"Umm. Yes, I can understand your reserve. But, I am fairly experienced in such matters, and if you'll let me, I can manage it without any danger to your marriage or your sex life either. In fact, I can assure you that he will fuck you with a renewed enthusiasm that will simply blow your mind. Come on, want to give it a try?"

"Well..."

"At the risk of sounding trite, `Nothing ventured, nothing gained.'"

"I guess not," said Marla without overwhelming conviction.

"Good then it's a done deal. I'm gonna convince your husband to take you in hand, as you wish to be taken in hand, and to be the strong, dominant husband you need. Oh, and if I succeed," Maxine paused for effect, "you owe me one. Agreed?"

"Yes. I guess so," agreed Marla.

"Very, very good," said Maxine smiling like a possum. "Now come over her so I can put some salve on that sore posteriorflorifus for you."

Marla knew the drill. She walked over to the desk Maxine was leaning against and bent over it, arching her butt high enough to make for easy access by her top. Maxine very gently stroked the other female's buttocks and began applying the white goo she always used to assuage her bottom's pain. And, also as usual, she pushed a finger deep into the bent-over

girl's anus. Her ministrations had an ulterior motive; she would soon be plunging her strap on penis deep into the helpless girl's nether hole. Marla rested her head on her hands while she awaited what she knew would soon come.

******

Harry's boss was a handsome man. Royce Richter had been a college athlete and a summa at Columbia before becoming a general partner in Harry's company. The two had become friends and occasional drinking buddies. Harry didn't drink heavily, but when he was with Royce, his tongue tended to be looser than at other times. Royce had learned his secret soon after they'd met: Harry wanted to make a change in his life; he wanted to dump Marla. 

He wanted to dump her not because he didn't love her, but because he couldn't seem to satisfy her as he thought she deserved. Harry had whined and complained and blamed himself and had generally let it all hang out to his friend Royce.

Royce had been amused then, but this was now. He was tired of his friends pussy-whipped whiny attitude. With a wife like Marla, he, Royce Richter would be happy as hell. But Harry was a wimp when it came to women—a fatal flaw. Royce advised him now, to take the woman, and forget his pangs of guilt, real or imagined. 

"Listen Harry, fuck the woman. Fuck her early and often. They love it. She'll love it. And if she complains, fuck her again. Stick that guilty-assed pole of yours as far up her twat as you can and bang her till she figures out who's boss. And when you get tired of that, she's got two other holes that you should most definitely not neglect. She'll love you for it. I tell yuh, she'll love yuh for it. Get your ass in gear and stop bein' such a wimpy-assed high school bastard."

"Criminy Royce, you really know how to hurt a guy."

"Take charge Harry. You'll thank me if you do. So will she."

******

"Hi back at you," Marla said. She noticed his pale expressionless face. "What's the matter?"

"Need to talk." He was nervous, obviously nervous.

"Oh?"

"Yes, I've been thinking..."

"Hon, before you say, I've brought someone home with me."

"Huh?" Harry had the look of a hound whose bone had been taken away. His eyes went immediately to the doorway where a tall, dark haired, confident looking woman stared back at him."Oh," was all he could manage.

"Did I interrupt you?" asked Maxine with a degree of formal concern in her voice.

"Uh--it can wait," said Harry.

"Honey," said Marla, "this is Maxine. We work together. She's my boss."

Maxine smiled at that. Boss, top, friend she was all of them, but she never thought of herself as Marla's boss, more as her mentor perhaps, but not her boss. "Nice to meet you Harry. Marla has told me a ton about you."

Maxine smiled in a way that was mildly unsettling to Harry: This was a markedly different woman than his wife. He was most interested to know why Marla had brought her home; she'd never brought another co-worker home with her before. "Oh -- well -- very glad to meet you too," he said with appropriate surprise.

"Harry, I have to go upstairs for a few minutes, will you please entertain Maxine in the meantime," it was not a question; Marla was halfway up the stairs before Harry could even respond.

"Well, Maxine, it looks as if you're stuck with me for a little while. Won't you have a seat. Would you like a cup of coffee, anything?"

For the first time Harry noticed the woman's attributes: especially her, what must have been, thirty-eight-D tits. She was taller than he was too; not threateningly tall, but imposing nonetheless.

"Perhaps a little later, Harry. May I call you Harry?"

"Yes, of course." Harry was uncomfortable in the company of such a voluptuous female. He determined not to act it, however. "So, you work with Marla."

"Yes. We've been in the same department for quite a while."

"You're the first co-worker of hers that I have met. We work totally adverse schedules."

"Yes, she told me. We share a lot. You know, girl stuff."

"Oh, I see." Harry didn't really see. Marla had never talked about Maxine. He wondered what "girl stuff" meant exactly.

"Harry, can I tell you something." Harry nodded. "Marla loves you a lot. She talks about you incessantly." Harry squirmed, and Maxine noticed. "I hope I'm not making you feel uncomfortable, Harry," she said with genuine concern.

"Uh, no. No, of course not. It's just that Marla and I don't talk much about our shop acquaintances. Don't know why really; it's just our way I guess."

Maxine smiled. "Harry, I'm going to be straight with you: Marla asked if I would speak with you about something personal. But, if it's not all right, you can just tell me to butt out, and I'll understand." She paused and observed the paling of his countenance and the fidgeting of his short thick fingers. 

She decided to go on. "Harry, Marla is worried. She loves you, and she fears you are growing bored with her. I've had some experience with such things, and so she asked me to kind of run interference for her; that is, to explain a couple of things that she's afraid to."

Harry was utterly flabbergasted. He wasn't angry or in any way incensed. He didn't know what he was. He felt -- at a loss; he just stared. "Yes?"

"Yes. Well, I mean would it be okay with you if I go on?" asked Maxine smoothly. The man nodded.

"Well then. Frankly Harry your wife would prefer it if you were a -- little more manly."

"What!" Harry hissed the word. Now he was angry. How dare this interloper imply he wasn't "manly." "What are you talking about...?"

"Please Harry. I know this is a shock. But, unless I miss my guess, you've had some of the same kinds of feelings too, only the reverse."

Harry considered that. Considered what he had planned to tell, explain, ask Marla before Maxine had showed up. "Go on," he said sardonically.

"Thanks Harry. Marla is all girl Harry. She wants to be treated as girls should be treated. In the classical sense if you like. She wants a man who can dominate the scene, not one who bows and scrapes. She doesn't want to

be put on a pedestal and worshipped; she would rather be put over a knee

and spanked."

"What in hell!"

"Harry..."

"What in hell are you talking about. Does she know that you're telling all of this?"

"I'm talking Harry about your taking charge and being the man you should be. Marla needs a protector and a strong hand. Guidance. Harry, she wants you to lead, not be led."

Harry was at a loss. Here was a strange woman telling him the same things, to all intents and purposes, that Royce had told him. "Amazing. My best friend has told me the same thing, in almost the same words."

Now it was Maxine's turn to be surprised. "Your friend told you what I'm telling you? Who's your friend, Harry?"

"A fellow worker. His name is Royce Richter. Know him?"

"Royce Richter?" Maxine flushed. "Yes, yes In know him. He used to be my husband."

Harry was suddenly more than mildly interested in Maxine's words. "Your ex-husband?" he repeated evenly.

"Married four years. Royce is a very dominant and pushy guy. We weren't compatible at all."

Harry, forgetting his own problem, asked her why they had divorced.

"Because, I'm a dominant personality too. For a marriage to work, one of the partners has to relinquish the decision making role; neither of us were capable of that, so we broke up; it's been a long time now."

The two talked for another half hour. Neither took any notice that Marla had not returned. And neither was aware that Marla was just on the other side of the door jamb listening to every word.

******

Harry looked into his wife's semi-downcast eyes. The two of them had sat in pregnant silence since Maxine had departed twenty minutes before. He stared at her small girlish frame, her teeny tits. He suddenly found himself lusting after this female in a very delicious way. He'd thought he knew her. He now realized that he hadn't had a clue. His girl, his wife, was really a very docile creature indeed. How could he have not realized it? Three years of marriage and he hadn't had an inkling. He spoke.

"Wanna talk? I mean we can't just sit her forever."

Marla looked up at him. "Do you want me Harry? I mean really want me?"

"Absolutely." He had a sense that he had never spoken words that were more completely true. "And I want you now more than I ever wanted you. In fact you are in great danger of being raped as you sit there."

She smiled. "Promises promises."

"I keep my promises in case you hadn't noticed."

"Then don't break the thread."

Harry stood and walked around the table. He took her by the arms and raised her slowly out of her chair. Harry wasn't a muscle man, but he was a good deal stronger than he appeared; often the case with wiry built men. He pulled her to him and kissed her with a surprising gentleness on her orange painted lips -- very gently; he'd get rougher, he thought to himself, but these first moments had to be sensual, not crude; their lives were about to change in none too subtle ways.


The Agreement



He pushed her gently away. "Strip for me," he said in a husky voice.

She stood for a moment with her eyes downcast, still, hands at her sides. She looked up at him and her hands came to her breast which she covered and pressed to herself very slowly. She began to unbutton her blouse; one button at a time. The light beige material of the filmy item of clothing began to part revealing a bra of the same color beneath. 

She tugged the blouse from the belt line of her dark brown miniskirt; she did not take the blouse off. She let it hang loose around her; her hands were again at her sides. She reached for the side of her skirt and undid the button at the top of the garment. She slid the zipper down slowly. For a moment she stopped, preventing the skirt from falling to the floor, then she let it go and it slithered down her thighs and calves to lay in a pool at her feet.

He gazed at her panties and the dark secret it concealed at the base of her navel, at the place where her legs came together. He almost drooled with desire.

Less than a half an hour earlier he had been in a near state of shock after having listened to Maxine; now, he hardly remembered her having been there. He'd remember later, and he and Marla would talk, but not now; now was a time on its own spectral plane, a plane totally divorced from any other sentient reality. A place with a population of but two.

She let her blouse fall now too; it joined her skirt in the pile on the floor. She let her hands move slowly up and down her sides. She reached for the front of her bra and released her breasts from their confines; she ridded herself of the flimsy item and let her nipples poke out at her husband tauntingly as she deliberately thrust her chest in his direction; they were already hard and extended.

Harry had resumed his seat; he'd had to, his knees were shaking. He didn't actually lick his lips, but his expression gave the impression that he had. His face felt puffy and warm; yet, no other sensation was noticeable by him. He was going to be very selfish with this girl's body very shortly.

Marla slipped her thumbs inside the top lining of her panties and pushed them earthward. She stood naked now. Her hands at her side fiddled absently with the flesh of her upper thighs scratching, pinching it. Harry was speechless; there was nothing to say anyway; speech would have lent an artificiality to the moment that neither of them either needed or wanted; it was a moment for the neural senses only, and the mind. That was it, he thought, there was purity in things of the mind; his only concern was that he might be losing his.

Her perfume assaulted his senses. Women were basically cruel; they did all in their power to seduce men, and perfume, the right perfume, was chemical warfare at its most seductive. Marla did lick her lips; she was all sensate, all woman, and very dangerous. He would make her pay now; he would take her very roughly; he would most definitely enjoy that, and so would she. Hadn't Royce said so? Hadn't her friend Maxine said as much as well? Gawd, how he had wasted three years; unforgivable!

She was very close. Her breasts, her nipples were level with his face as he sat eyes hardly blinking. He reached out and touched her little mounds. So small. So little-girlish. Thirty-eight years old and looked fourteen. He pulled her to him and sucked her left titty into his mouth. He had in mind to suck it raw. He squeezed her right mound and kneaded it playing with the nipple as he did so.

Marla felt the familiar connection of her breasts with her cunny as he savaged her chest. He was playing rough and she didn't care. She felt him drop his left hand from her breast and cup her buttocks. He insinuated his fingers into the cleft between them. On finger, she wasn't sure which, began the invasion of her anus: it only hurt a little. She pushed back slightly helping him to enter her canal more deeply; she wanted to surrender. He switched his mouth to the other tit and continued his suckling. Gawd, how she wanted to be fucked.

"Turn around and bend over," he said. She obeyed. "Spread your legs a little." again she obeyed his command.

He spread her cleft and gazed at her secret places. He kissed her nether hole and began to lick it. She had braced her hands along the sides of her thighs while he did his thing to her rear door. he'd never done that before. Suddenly she was worried. Would he...? Her worry was unnecessary; he moved his tongue to her pussy preparing it for his cock.

"Come with me." He pulled her along to the couch. "Kneel up on it and bend over." She gladly did so pushing her butt out toward its fate. She felt the tip of his engorged penis probing her slit. He was nearly in her. She was tight in spite of his slavering all over her crotch. She felt him lodge the head of his rod securly inside of her. It was the moment that all women knew that they were had, that there was no escaping the bullish male's control, the moment when submission to their master's will was total. 

She submitted to his cock more willingly than she ever had. He started to push home his cock without withdrawing it at all. Finally he was totally inside of her. He rotated it a little and then began screwing her slowly, then increasing speed, finally ramming her again and again. 

He had to hold her hips to keep from thrusting her forward and over the back of the couch. She began bucking as she neared a climax; he was not far behind. Their one-two orgasm was a thunderclap of sweat endowed lust.

Harry was conscious of the fact that he was only half soft and still sexually ravenous. He wanted to go again. He pulled her back and kissed her, then pushed her down to her knees. "Suck," was all he could manage to say. Half spent, she did as she was told licking and sucking her man into another raging hardon; she smiled to herself; he had never taken her twice in a row. Gawd, how she loved the new Harry.

After several minutes of her sucking he pushed her all the way to the floor and spread her wide to take her again. He lay on top of her looking into her sweat stained face. He rammed his cock home again and again. It took longer the second time around. Finally he exploded inside of her again. He rolled off and pulled her on top of him. He liked the feel of her nipples pressing into his chest. 

He liked the feel of her furry mound, scratchy against his soft lower belly. He determined to take her again later that evening, after he had taught her a lesson; if he could only get the courage up to dare. According to Maxine; she had certainly wanted one. He would have to tell Royce how absolutely right he had been. If he could only get up the courage. Gawd! what a weakling he was, had been...still was. Damn, he'd never get the courage up; he knew it; Marla knew; it seemed like everybody knew it.

*****

The phone rang on Royce Richter's desk just as he was leaving the office. He was surprised to hear the throaty voice of his ex-wife. "Maxin...I'm surprise...No, surprised to hear your

voice... What, may I ask, can I do for you?...Really...You know his wife?... Isn't' t that a coincidence... Sure.... Okay... Fifteen minutes," he said this last looking at his watch mentally calculating his chances of reaching the designated bistro in time in the afternoon traffic. He hungup; she hadn't even said goodbye.

******

"I can't believe it, you know. I mean that you are her friend, and I am his."

"Yes, I know. Me too."

"You look good girl. I mean real good." His eyes ravaged her.

Maxine blushed inwardly. She had worked hard to get him to say that. It had cost her half the morning to get ready for this meeting. When Marla had not shown up for work that morning-- understandable she knew—she had actually become jealous of her. She had decided to take a shot at her ex. And here she was, they were, and he had said the right thing. It might turn out to be a good day.

"What do you think?" she asked coyly.

"Think?"

"Yes, about the two of them. Think they'll make it?"

"Hell, I don't know. Maybe. If she can learn to submit, as a woman should, and if he can learn to be a man instead of the wimpy-assed, pussywhipped, whiner he's always been. It'll be tough; you and I know about that."

"Yes. You're right."

"I like your dress; yellow always did look good on you. You wanna fuck?"

The crassness of his opener was so -- him. He'd always been on the profane side. The kicker was that it turned her on in some weird-assed way. "Sure." She heard herself say, and she wasn't even sure whether she was joking or not. Royce didn't hesitate; he evidently wasn't joking. He rose from the table; threw a bill on it, and took her by the arm.

"My office is closest."

She let herself be led out to his Jaguar. He opened the door for her and saw her seated before he skipped back to his side, jumped in, got the engine to roar to life, and pulled out into traffic. Neither said a word. Royce because he didn't want to break the mood, and Maxine because she was overwhelmed by the suddenness of the whole thing.

Pulling into the garage, he escorted his still uneasy ex-wife to the elevator and up to the ninth floor and his office. He pulled her into his office and without any ceremony began to strip her of her clothes. She stood stock still while he peeled off her dress, her bra, and her

panties. he pulled her to him and kissed her madly. She let him have his way; it was part of her decision, a decision reached after seemingly endless soul searching.

She dropped to her knees and undid his belt.

"Give me the belt," he said softly, meaningfully. She understood him. He also understood her; she had given in. After years of problems and finally a divorce; she had decided to surrender. She knew she was going to be punished, and it humiliated her, but she had made up her mind to take her medicine and let him master her; she had few misgivings. She did fear the sting, and it would sting; she was going to dance a pretty dance on her toes that was for sure.

She pulled his shorts down and was met by his waving nine inch pole. Oh, it was going to feel good to be skewered by him. She prayed he would make it last and not cum too swiftly. But Royce had always had staying power, she remembered; he'd fuck her good and proper; she was sure of that. She took hold of it's almost unreal thickness and licked the precum from it's tip. She did her best to suck it in to her mouth; it stretched her jaws to the max. She let he tongue rub at the bottom of the shaft as she slurped and push-pulled the monstrous tool in and out of her mouth.

"Oh, yeah, like that," he breathed aloud as she sucked on him.

Pulling it out, she looked up at him with knitted brows; it was a question,

and he understood.

"No, not till after; but I am going to spank you."

"I know." Her surrender was complete now that she had voiced it. At least he wasn't going to punish her until after he had had her; she was going to be allowed to enjoy her screwing.

He grabbed her by her long hair and made her turn around. Naked and ready she bent over the table as he pressed his hand into the center of her back encouraging her. She felt the tip of his penis press against her soft place. 

He pushed and entered her easily. He began to screw her slowly. He picked up the tempo after a few minutes and hammered her furiously as he neared a climax. Maxine too was near to climaxing just as he exploded into her bringing her with him. He fell forward onto her back as though he had run a marathon; in a sense he had: his wife was back and she was such an incredible screw.

"I have an idea," he said.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I am not going to spank you now. I am going to make an example of you."

Her look was one of supreme askance.

"Yes, an example to Marla and Harry. Harry, to see what a man should be to a wife; and Marla, to see how a woman should submit and accept discipline when required." Royce had the look of a knight on a mission.

Maxine noticed it, the look, but thought it overly dramatic and a tad silly. It was all just sex after all. Yet, oh so wonderful when it was right. It had been right tonight, she thought.

******

Marla opened the door, surprised to see Royce and Maxine together. Her look proclaimed her surprise.

"May we come in?" asked Royce amused at Marla's evident state of confusion.

"Uh—why yes—come in—I mean do come in, please."

"Thank you," said Maxine quietly. Too quietly, thought Marla.

"So, what have you two been up to," asked Royce of the pair as Harry came into the room wiping his face with a small peach colored hand towel.

"Well, Royce, nice to see you," said Harry with a mixture of genuine surprise and satisfaction.

Maxine was looking down at the floor. Marla continued to wonder at her boss' strange, for her, behavior.

"Harry, Maxine and I have been talking. We were not aware that each of us knew each of you until tonight. Once we discovered it, we determined to come over and have a little head to head with you folks."

"Oh," said Marla.

"Yes," continued Royce confidently. Maxine and I are going to be married again."

This time it was Harry who said, "Oh."

"Yes, and actually we have you two to thank. Maxine has finally decided to be the woman of the house and to let me be the man. I know that sounds strange, but it comes from our having talked to you two, albeit separately, about the things that were bothering you. We have decided that Maxine will receive her first spanking from me tonight and that the two of you will be witnesses if you are willing and so inclined." Royce stopped.

The silence was deafening. Marla broke it. "Yes, we agree. Don't we Harry. A girl's first spanking should be witnessed, I think," she said.

Harry, not trusting his voice, just nodded assent.

"Good," said Royce. His eyes roamed the room for a suitable station.

For the first time Harry noticed the large bag that Maxine had brought in with her. His thinking was interrupted by Royce.

"We can use that table if it's all right with you," he said eyes flitting between Marla and Harry.

"Yes, of course," said Marla with the hint of a smile playing about her mouth.

"Stand in the middle of the room Maxine and strip," her soon to be wedded husband commanded her. She stood without a sound, marched to the center of the room and began unbuttoning her blouse. Her skirt, bra, and panties were next. Finally she was naked, her large breasts commanding attention. 

The crotch of Harry's pants was bulging; a fact that did not go unnoticed by his wife. "Now Maxine go to the table and bend over it." Once more she obeyed without a word. "Harry, there are some strips of rope in that bag, please fetch them and fasten Maxine's ankles to the legs of that table." Royce smiled at the anticipation fully evident in the look of his friend.

Harry, thrilled by the proximity of the naked female's butt to his face, did as he was told and soon had Maxine's ankles firmly tied to the table legs. Maxine was spread wide and her most secret places were available to the other three in the room. She, her torso flat on the table top, awaited her punishment.

"Wait a minute, Royce," said Harry in a calm voice. "Marla, you go to the center of the room and strip too. Since Maxine is going to get her first spanking tonight, so are you."

Marla was not prepared for this, and her face showed it. "But..."

"No buts," said Harry firmly. He had decided to take his chances. There would never be an opportunity like this one again. Marla obeyed. Moving to the center of the room as directed, she pushed her jeans down as they all eyed her. Maxine, her legs bound could see everything since she had been bound to the far side of the table and her face was turned in such a way as to have a full view of the room.. Marla was naked now, her tiny tits and gorgeous behind there for all to see. "Royce, would you do the honors."

Royce took more lengths of rope from the bag and led Marla to the opposite end of the table from Maxine. There he proceeded to bind Marla's ankles to the table legs as Harry had Maxine's; and like Harry with Maxine, he was almost overcome by the closeness of Marla's buns to his face. Now their hands behind their backs," said Royce.

"I'm scared," whispered Marla to her friend, faces only inches away from each other, as the two men bound their hands tightly behind their backs.

"Yes, me too," answered her friend in an equally quiet whisper. "We're going to get it I'm afraid. Just let it flow. We will just take our spankings and then they'll fuck us. It'll be heavenly."

Marla tingled all over in anticipation.

Maxine shivered, as she saw each of the men take the belts from their pants. and approach. She saw Royce say something on the sly to Harry. Harry nodded. The men proceeded to stand behind their women.

Each of the women saw the other's mate raise their arms high in the air and strike downward with their belts.

Maxine's cry was deafening," aiaiaiyiyiyiyi.... Marla on the other side of the table lost her breath with the first sting of the belt crashing on her naked buns. She wiggled and jerked spasmodically finally screaming, "n-noooo..." Both women danced on their bound toes. Both tried to rise but were firmly held in place by their husbands' strong hands. The sting, the jerking, the shock of the belts' force all was torment for the two women. Finally it was over.

"Let's fuck them the way they are," said Harry, for the first time in his life not acting like a wimp.

"Let's," said Royce in agreement.

Marla was still gasping for breath as she felt her husband's penis invading her pussy.

Maxine was crying like a baby as Royce's cock jammed itself in to the hilt skewering her.

Each of the women watched as her friend got royally fucked. Soon the girls were pushing back against the onslaught to their pussies. Their submission total, their men were doing their level best to hold out from cumming as long as they possibly could; the girls deserved that much.

******

Later, the two men, seated on the couch, were watching their women as they alternately purred or sucked their cocks or licked their ball sacks while trying to get them excited enough for an encore. It would be a tableau that would be repeated in one form or another in the future. It had been a auspicious beginning for both couples. The punishment had been fierce, but it had been worth it.

******



The Agreement



I had been awaiting this birthday for a long time. My Mom and I had made an agreement--a verbal contract, if you will--and today was the day for her to fill her end of the bargain. Lord knows, I certainly had upheld my end.

Some background is in order here. My name is Ariana Fleischer. The day we are talking about happens to be my twenty-first birthday, and my mother had promised me a kind of unique birthday present if I agreed to follow certain conditions. These conditions were almost more than I could bear, but I did it, and now it's her turn. Here is how it happened.

When I was growing up, my mother, Beth Jamison, and I had always been close. We were able to talk about everything, which, from what I heard from my friends, was not very common. She was a typical, normal mother--and I thought she was relatively cool. I was her only child, and she showered me with attention--especially after Dad died when I was fourteen.

All that changed three years ago. Mom had met a guy, and she was serious about him. I had my reservations. Ted was a nice enough guy, especially in the beginning. But he had a dark side, or I guess in fairness I should say a light side--basically he was a religious nut. I had been raised Catholic and we went to Church on Sundays, but the Church was definitely not the center of our lives. But for Ted, his Church is everything to him. He is a member of one of those sects where drinking and smoking, even dancing, are big-time sins.

I couldn't believe that Mom had fallen for a guy with this belief system, but I guess she was lonely and tired of all the guys out there who always tried to use her. "Ted is a real gentleman," Mom said often. Yeah, but, I thought to myself, he's a real asshole too.

I was shocked when Mom started using the same language that Ted used all the time. I couldn't believe all the personality changes either. She stopped smoking and stopped watching all the "trash," as Ted put it, on television. Mom was not a big drinker, but she liked her Saturday night martini--her "weekly reward," as she put it, and the occasional drink at a party. Ted didn't like drinking at all, so Mom quit that too.

She seemed to be happy, but I always believed that she was somehow hiding her feelings from herself. I was torn between wanting her to be happy with her choices and my growing dislike of Ted. When they got married the day before my twentieth birthday, I cried for the first time since my Daddy died--and they weren't tears of joy.

Because I was going to the local Community College, I was still living at home. My friends didn't want to hang around my house anymore--it was no longer fun with Ted around. And we were typical college students, meaning that fun was a very important part of our lives. Ted was also starting to try to exert control over me. It was his duty as the head of the house, he said. Smoking, drinking, and normal dating were forbidden. I didn't smoke, but I do enjoy my wine, and I like being with my male friends. Ted insisted that I would meet "nice boys" in the Church, not at the bars.

One night I was getting ready to go out, and he made such a big deal out of it that Mom started crying. "She's just a girl, honey. She needs to get out with her friends sometimes." Ted would have none of it. "She needs to find wholesome friends and activities. She lives in our house and needs to follow our rules. That's the end of it." I was, of course, furious, but the look in Mom's eyes somehow made me give in. She told me quietly, "We'll talk tomorrow."

The next day, Ted was out and Mom and I had a long talk. I won't bore you with all the details, but Mom begged me to give Ted a chance. "Just come to the church with us, Ariana. The people are lovely and you need to get saved. Your eternal soul is in grave danger and Ted only wants the best for you." She cajoled and pleaded and, after thinking about it, a plan began to form in my head.

"OK Mom, you win. We'll do it your way. I'll go with you guys on Sunday."

Mom was overjoyed. "I knew you'd see the light, darling. You'll be glad you did it. I can't wait to tell Ted."

"There's just one thing Mom."

What's that Ariana?"

"I want to make a deal. I'll try it your way, but you have to promise me something too."

She looked perplexed. "What do you mean..."

"This is the deal, Mom. I go to Ted's church for the next six months, until I graduate the two-year program at Community College. If I like it, I stay, obviously. If I don't like it, I leave."

"And...?" said Mom.

"And you agree that on my next birthday, you will do whatever I ask of you. It won't be anything illegal," I laughed. "Trust me."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

"Look Mom, I'm making a big sacrifice for you and taking a big chance. You know I wouldn't do anything that would hurt you. It sounds like you're getting a great bargain. Please?"

"OK Ariana, I'll trust your judgment. I'm sure that after you get to know the life of the spirit, you'll leave all of this silliness behind you. It's a deal."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

"OK, just don't tell Ted we have a deal. That would ruin it."

I had her.

The next six months would have been pure hell, but I took the time to catch up on my schoolwork, studying harder than I ever had. I went to Church with Mom and Ted and it was as bad as I expected. The people were all very "nice," but I felt weirded out with all the holy roller stuff. It was totally foreign to anything I had ever experienced. After a couple of weeks,some of the boys at church started to ask me out, but I used school as an excuse to say no. I played my part well but had to admit that, being honest, a person really could find great peace living their lifestyle--it just wasn't me though.

I had clued in my best friends as to what was happening, and they thought I was nuts.

"Why the charade?" asked Maria. "You're an adult and shouldn't have to play games."

"I know. But it's only for a short time, and I'm developing a plan to get my mother back. It's not worked out yet, but believe me, I have to get her out of this marriage. This guy is a control freak and has turned my mother into something she's not--his own little Stepford wife."

* * *

And that brings us to today. The story resumes.

"Happy birthday, Ariana." It was Mom. "I can't believe my little girl is a full-fledged woman today. It seems like only yesterday..."

I cut her off. "Thanks Mom, but we've got a big day ahead." I hhad been waiting for this day for six months and could not control my excitement.

Mom had arranged for my birthday party to be held today--she was going to keep her bargain. She was now against "wild" parties, but had agreed to have a group of my old girlfriends at the Spa Ranch. Ted was against even that, but he had deferred to Mom for once on this one. "At least there won't be drinking and smoking," he had said. I smile inside at that particular memory.

"Don't forget one thing Mom," I said. "You remember that you agreed to do anything I want today. Remember?"

Mom looked discomfited. "What on earth do you mean? Isn't the party what you wanted?"

"Yeah Mom, but just remember, you're all mine today."

"Well, you have kept your word Ariana, and you're saved now. I'll do whatever you want. I'm just happy that you're with us in the church."

"Uh, Mom...there's something I have to say about that too. I've been with you on this for six months and I really tried to make a go of it. But I can't do it anymore."

"I thought you had found yourself Ariana. What happened. Come on, we'll pray about it."

"No Mom, it's just not me. I believe in God and all that stuff, but I can't go for all the stuff they preach at Wordly Mission Church. Asking you to give up ten percent of your income? So the preacher can ride around in his fancy cars? All the miraculous "healings" that never really happen. People getting bopped by the spirit and falling and acting crazy? Come on Mom, I know you can't believe all of this. At least not if you're being honest with yourself."

She looked pained, but I continued. "You made me a promise. As a Christian woman, you are bound by your word. Today you have to do whatever I ask. I promised you that there would be nothing illegal involved, and there won't be. But a deal's a deal, and you wouldn't go back on your word, would you?"

Mom looked at me, coldly this time. "All right Ariana. You win. I don't know what you're up to, but I don't like it. I will keep my promise. What do you have in mind?"

"Actually Mom, it's nothing that you wouldn't want to do. We're going to my party at the Spa Ranch, which you already planned, after all. You remember the great times we had there the few times we could afford to go. That's all--no big conspiracy. But if I ask you a favor or two while we're there, I would hope that you'd agree. It's my birthday"

Mom's face brightened. This was going to work out OK.

The Spa Ranch is a luxury "camp," where ladies go for the day for total relaxation. There are natural hot-spring pools, any kind of massage you might want, body rubs, facials, and almost anything else a woman could want in the way of total indulgence. It is obscenely expensive, but worth every penny. We had booked a six-hour appointment for a few of us--me, Mom, and my friends Maria and Kate. I had secretly also arranged for Mom's former best friend Jaqui, to come. Jaqui is a fun-loving, flamboyant lady who was Mom's best friend for many years. Of course Ted doesn't like her, and the friendship was put on hold around the time Mom and Ted got married. I'm sure Jaqui was devastated by this. When I called to invite her, she was overjoyed.

"How is your mother, Ariana? I am seriously worried about her."

I couldn't lie. "I am too, Jaqui. But I think we might be able to wake her up."

We arrived at the Spa Ranch by limo. That was a nice touch that I hadn't expected Mom to provide. There's still some life inside of her, I thought happily. The girls were waiting for us as we arrived. Shortly, Jaqui came walking up the path, her cigarette holder dangling from her lips, with a More cigarette in it. As I said, she's a bit flamboyant. Mom was very surprised to see Jaqui, but smiled deeply and went outside to greet her old friend. Jaqui took a langorous puff, inhaled it, and blew the smoke away from Mom. They greeted each other warmly. I was relieved at this, as I wasn't sure what Mom's reaction would be. Things were looking up.

"Sometimes I do miss smoking," Mom said. "Especially when I see you with one Jaqui. But that's in the past now, thank God."

Jaqui laughed. "Anytime you want to change your mind, just let me know, dear."

We went through the entrance and commenced with the day's activities. First we had our massages and our facials. After a light lunch, we lounged for a time in the hot spring pool, and had the most wonderful body rubs. When we were done, we still had another hour and a half.

"What can we do now" wondered Mom.

"I know," replied Jaqui. We'll go to the pool bar. That was always my favorite part of this Ranch."

The pool bar is just what it sounds like--only better. It's a really nice pool, made to look like some kind of tropical lagoon. They have all kinds of water seats that are really comfortable. You're actally down in the water, with only your upper body out, and with the built-in trays, you can have drinks and even snacks,while you drift around the pool. Of course, there's a gorgeous bar right in the center of the pool, well-stocked with anything you could think of. And it is the only place in the entire Spa Ranch in which smoking is allowed.

"I don't know," Mom said. "It's not really my thing anymore."

"Nonsense. It's your daughter's day, darling." It was Jaqui again.

"Mom, remember our deal. You have to do anything I want."

"OK, dear, I give in. What harm could there be? And I could use a dip in the pool." With that, we walked to the pool bar and went in.

We were all smiling as we were assisted into our seats. It was wonderful being there. Jaqui immediately headed, in her "reclino-floater," to the bar and ordered a margarita. She whispered to the bartender and smiled when the rest of us joined her.

The girls and I were about to order our drinks when the bartender announced that champagne had been already ordered for us, courtesy of Jaqui. He poured our flutes, including one for Mom.

"I'll just have some bottled water, if you don't mind."

Jaqui intervened. "Beth, I have never known you to turn down a glass of champagne. It's Ariana's twent-first birthday. I insist."

Mom started to talk again, but this time I jumped in. "Mom, I really want you to have a glass--just one. How else will you be able to toast the birthday girl?"

We all laughed, and Mom said, "OK, but just one."

Jaqui lit another cigarette and this time Maria joined her. Maria loved her cigarettes. As I mentioned, I was a non-smoker and Kate had been trying to quit. Jaqui offered Mom one of her Mores, but Mom wouldn't go that far, although I'm sure she wanted to. 

The bartender then arrived again and told me, "Miss Fleischer, in honor of your twenty-first birthday, Jaqui has requested that I present you with a special gift. You may open it now.

"I am honored Jaqui. Thank you."

I opened the small package and inside found a big cigar! This was a total surprise. Everyone (except Mom) began laughing and telling me to smoke it.

"But I've never smoked anything. I wouldn't know where to begin." I really didn't want to smoke the cigar, but I knew that Jaqui would be disappointed if I didn't.

"We'll have to give you a lesson," remarked Jaqui.

Mom interjected at this point. "I really do not like this. Jaqui, this was inappropriate. My daughter is a non-smoker and she is not about to start. Especially a cigar"

At that point, I was determined to do it.

"Sir, my lesson please."

The bartender gave me a brief tutorial on the art of cutting, lighting, and smoking a cigar. He then produced a box of large matches, toasted the end and told me to put the cigar in my mouth.

"Just remember not to inhale!"

"Until you get used to it," laughed Jaqui.

I closed my eyes and tentatively took a few light puffs as the cigar came to life. To my great surprise, rather than being disgusted, I rather liked the taste.

"Not bad."

"Not bad? That's an understatement. It's a Cohiba Esplendido, darling" said Jaqui. "It's one of the best Cuban cigars you can get. I got a couple of boxes last month when I was in Cabo. I tried my first cigar down there and, although they'll never replace my cigarettes, I enjoy them immensely now and then."

Mom was looking a bit angry and finished her champagne in one gulp before the bartender poured her another. She downed that one rather quickly too.

I continued to smoke the cigar, taking more substantial puffs and was really enjoying it. Both of the girls asked if they could try it.

"You can each have one of your own," said Jaqui. The bartender has my humidor under the couner. I thought it would be a nice way to celebrate Ariana's birthday.

Kate and Maria enthusiastically took Jaqui up on her offer, and before you knew it, we were all smoking up a storm, and drawing the stares of the other ladies in the pool. We liked knowing that they were all watching us and we knew like this was something we would be doing again.

"Let me have a cigarette, please."

It was Mom. I was flabbergasted. It was now apparent that her year of not drinking had left her without much tolerance. She was half-shot, and the alcohol had triggered her old desire to smoke.

"Mom, are you sure?"

"She's sure," said Jaqui.

Mom put the More in her lips and the bartender quickly ignited the cigarette. Mom took a deep drag, inhaled it and blew out the smoke. "I really miss this," was all she said.

"Of course you do, darling, opined Jaqui. You don't have to be a puritan to be a good person. Smoking and drinking are two things that help make life fun. Enjoy yourself."

"Fun...what a concept," replied Mom wistfully, and we all laughed again.

We smoked our cigars and cigarettes and drank our champagne and, before we knew it, our time was up. The bartender told us that because it was my birthday, we could stay as long as we wanted to. Our party lasted into the night and I, at least, now knew that I wanted to smoke cigars for the rest of my life. And to be happy like this. And I was grateful that I had my mother back. At least for today. It was the best birthday I could ever have.

* * *

Epilogue

Needless to say, the day's activities did not go over well with Ted. I have never seen him so angry. He accused Mom of having acted like a slut, and I thought he was actually going to hit her when she told him that from now on she was going to be herself and that, if he didn't like it, she was out of the marriage.

"I'm a good person, Ted. Smoking a cigarette doesn't make me evil and neither does having a drink. Do you remember what Jesus's first miracle was? He made wine, so it can't be that bad for us to drink it.

"I won't tolerate drinking and smoking in my house."

"Our house, Ted. And yes you will."

Mom then proceeded to light her cigarette and took a deep drag. Ted's veins bulged and looked like he would explode.

I did the only thing I could. In solidarity with my mother, I lit a cigar. When Ted saw the Cohiba dangling between my lips, he screamed with rage and told me to put it out immediately. He walked over to me in a threatening manner and I took the biggest drag I could and blew the smoke directly in his face.

* * *

Looking back, I am glad that all of this happened. Ted is now out of our lives and Mom is herself again. Our home is fun to be in again. I am also happy that I have discovered the joy of smoking cigars. I even got Mom to try one and she now joins me every now and then when I have my nightly cigar. I love to turn heads when I smoke them in public and I just love everything about them. Life is beautiful!



The Agreement



Author's note: I prefer to write in the third person as it gives the writer so much more flexibility. However, I've written this story in the first person for one reason—it is my own personal story with love, marriage, crossdressing, and the ups and downs it invariably brings to a relationship. My name is David Calvin Peterson. My friends call me Cal. A small number of people know me as Callie. Who I am depends on well, who I am when they meet me. 

Lastly, I mean no offense, but I personally don't care for the (very) short stories where the horny crossdresser ends up on "her" knees on page one. If that's your thing, this may not be your cup of tea. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!




I paused for a moment to reflect on the changes the last year had brought. Yesterday was our fifth anniversary in which my wife surprised me with a complete shift in attitude we came to call "the agreement." It was preceded by an arrangement we'd come to one year previously. We simply called it "the deal."

I'm now 32 and my former wife Sarah (not her real name for obvious reasons) is 30. We divorced a year ago partly because of crossdressing but most for other reasons. This story takes place five years ago when we were 27 and 25, respectively. 

We married the day I graduated from college while she was still a senior in the University of Virginia's nursing program. I've worked as an aeronautical engineer on a nearby Navy base since, and between the two of us we make an excellent income. 

Like most men who crossdress, I didn't tell Sarah my most deeply-held secret until after we were married. Like those other men, I too believed getting married would "cure" me; that I'd lose interest in it once I had a wife. The fact that she preferred wearing the kind of clothes I preferred to wear when dressed up allowed me to superficially convince myself that would serve as an adequate substitute and keep me on "the straight and narrow." For the six months before the wedding until about six months after, it had. 

Just over a year ago, on a Saturday evening when she was working swing shift, "the urge" returned with a vengeance. I'd gotten rid of all my female things, something known as "purging" in the crossdressing community "knowing" I'd never need them again. As I looked through Sarah's things to select my outfit, I was as careful as I could be not to either stretch out any of her clothes or to get makeup on them. I knew I was taking a risk, but I couldn't stop myself from spending the evening as Callie. I'm a small man. I stand 5'8" and at the time weighed 150lbs. Sarah is an inch shorter than me and there's no chance I'll give her weight—now or ever. (Suffice it to say she weighed considerably less than me.)  

Even without a wig and with hairy arms, legs, and chest (mine was light but noticeable as I hadn't shaved them in years), I found myself flooded with the endorphin rush that always came from dressing up like a woman. I reveled in every aspect of the experience the way I always had from choosing what to wear to the careful application of my makeup to accessorizing. I preferred a classy, semi-professional look and I have what might be termed a fetish for certain kinds of sweaters paired with shorter skirts, heels, and expensive jewelry. While the sweater thing may seem odd, it's actually pretty logical as I grew up in northern Virginia where it's cold much of the year. Girls and women wore sweaters a lot and I have always liked the dressier, more form fitting type. The thicker, baggier, "granny" variety does nothing for me. Don't get me wrong. I also love nice dresses, blouses, lingerie, and even jeans. It's just that a sexy sweater is my all-time favorite.

My "first" session ended all too soon with a call to a phone-sex line that specialized in crossdressing men and very near wardrobe miss as I came with a ferocity I hadn't experienced in a very long time. Callie was back and I was sure Sarah would never understand. I had no idea how to address this with her, but I knew Callie wasn't going to be able to stay in the closet any longer.

I could tell something was bothering Sarah as she got dressed for work the next day. She seemed puzzled after looking at her neatly-stacked sweaters in the closet. I'd put things back as carefully as I could, but women can just sense when things are out of place. Even worse, she was visibly upset after grabbing her bra and panties from the dresser door. She didn't say a word, however, and I didn't ask as I knew she suspected something. I was grateful for what was likely only a reprieve no matter how short-lived it might be.

Less than two weeks later, I was enjoying another evening as Callie when Sarah came home unexpectedly from work. I was in the master bathroom and had just finished removing all of my makeup. I was toweling off when looked up and saw her. Her favorite white sweater and black skirt were on the bed and a pair of three-inch black heels were on the floor by the bed.

"Who is she!?" Sarah demanded. "Who are you sleeping with, Cal?"

I saw tears fall from her eyes and I sat down on the bed and said quietly without looking at her, "No one, honey. There's no one else."

She picked up the shoes and said, "If it was just my skirt and sweater that would be bad enough knowing you let some other woman wear my clothes," she said as she picked up the shoes. "But THESE are someone else's. THESE are not MY shoes! Don't lie to me. Who was here with you tonight and how could you let her wear MY things???"

I looked up at her, took a deep breath and told her, "Sarah, those are mine. The shoes belong to me."

Stunned, Sarah dropped them on the floor and said, "What are you talking about? How can they by YOUR shoes, Cal? What would you be doing with women's shoes? I might be able to forgive a one-time affair, but if you lie to me, we're done. Now I want the truth. No more lies. No more BS. I want the truth! Who IS she???"

For the next ten minutes, I explained my lengthy obsession with crossdressing. I told her how much I'd hoped it was over when I met her and that I honestly believed it was all behind me. I explained the sudden, overwhelming return of these urges and that I felt powerless to stop. I felt both a deep sense of shame and relief that this was finally out in the open no matter how Sarah might react. I was shocked by her response.

"That's it? YOU wear my things? Jesus, Cal. I thought you were having an affair. I've been jealous of Erin (an attractive co-worker at my firm) for as long as I can remember and I immediately assumed it was her. I mean, I've seen how she looks at you and the way she laughs at everything you say. Trust me, you're not that funny," she said half-jokingly.

Sarah sat silently at the foot of the bed for what seemed like a very long time. Finally, she turned to me and said, "This I can deal with—I think. I mean, I might be able to handle it. I just don't know. I'm just so relieved you're not having an affair that maybe I'm being overly optimistic about this. All I can say is we can try it for a while and see how it goes. I'll need some time to process all of this. Just tell me again there's no other woman, okay?"

I assured her there was not and there never would be. I told her how much I loved her and that she meant everything to me and that no other woman could even compete with her.

Sarah suddenly burst out laughing! "I KNEW something was going on! My bras were stretched out and my sweaters weren't folded right. I thought I was going crazy and then I started to suspect another woman. Then I come home and see my things on the bed and these other shoes on the floor and I was sure you were cheating on me." She laughed some more. "Now I know why you've always been so interested in what I wear and why you buy me so many clothes and so much jewelry. Those are things YOU'D like to be wearing, aren't they, Cal?"

For the first time since I was 14, I blushed. "Yes," was all I could manage to say. 

Sarah sat down beside me, leaned her head on my shoulder then took my hand. "I love you, Cal. I don't care what you wear—in private. I don't think I want to see this—at least for now--all that really matters is you love me. You're not much bigger than me which explains why the changes I noticed in my clothes were so subtle. I don't like the idea of you wearing them so really need to get your own things as soon as possible. Deal?"

"Deal," I said as I turned toward to see if she meant what she was saying. I could tell from her eyes she did. "Thank you, honey." I said sincerely as I sat next to her. 

Sarah took my hand and kissed me and said, "No, thank you. Thank you for loving me and for being honest enough to tell me this. I can't imagine how difficult that must have been. Now let's put this stuff away and get ready for bed. And no, you may NOT wear one of my nighties to bed," she teased playfully.

That was the "deal." I could buy my own women's clothes and wear them when she wasn't around. I also managed to convince her to let me shave my body hair and grow my hair longer. The "agreement" was still a year away and it came after a seesaw ride of ups and downs with my crossdressing which I'd kept private and away from Sarah as we agreed. She had no problem with me shaving my body hair or growing my own hair longer. After almost a year of nothing but trimming the ends, it was now almost shoulder length and I wore it in a thick pony tail at work. Sarah actually liked my hair long. She simply had no interest in seeing me let alone being with me while en femme. It was a subject we rarely discussed and as my interest in crossdressing drew stronger by the day, avoiding it was becoming the proverbial 800lb gorilla in the room. Other than that tension, everything else seemed pretty much as it had been. Our sex life was good and we had a weekly date night we rarely ever missed. Still, I found myself wanting so much more and those new desires were becoming unbearable. One of those was the need to be seen in public. I desperately wanted to be able to go somewhere as Callie. Anywhere. And yet, another part of me had even more specific desires. Each time I took Sarah out dancing, I found myself wishing I could be there as Callie being asked to dance by the good looking men I could no longer ignore.

I tend to be obsessive and detail-oriented to the point of being anal. In fact, that's a word I hear rather often at work as I spend inordinate amounts of time ensuring my projects are as close to perfect as possible. I applied this trait to crossdressing and found myself constantly reading and researching areas like hair, makeup, accessorizing, and fashion. Makeup application was clearly the biggest challenge to actually looking like a woman and the progress I'd made was phenomenal. 

In addition to growing my hair long, I'd also lost quite a bit of weight. I was down to 135lbs due to careful dieting and the distance running I so enjoyed. As I said, my body hair is light and that's especially true on my face. I'd heard a number of times from women over the years that I had "those eyes" meaning the kind that are framed by long lashes which look like a girl's. It was one of things Sarah most liked about me along with a perfect smile courtesy of the braces I'd once worn and along with my small size, the thing that made it possible for me to actually look like a women in drag.

Other than my increasing dissatisfaction with only being out of the closet, I made time for Callie as often as possible. It's amazing how quickly we take new things for granted and want more. Buy a new car and you think you'll be excited to drive it every day forever. Nope. Just a few months later and it's no big deal. Getting the okay to dress up from my wife was a dream for the first six months. Then I wanted more. Now the frustration was building and I had no idea how to "earn" more privileges without blowing up "the deal." That's when chance or fate or whatever intervened.

A week ago, Sarah and I got our wires crossed. I was under the impression she was working until midnight that Saturday, and I'd made plans to spend the afternoon and evening as Callie. After finishing all of my detailed preparations which took just short of two hours, I was utterly amazed at the beautiful woman looking back at me in the mirror. I'd had my long, dark-brown hair up in rollers for three hours after coming home from a total body wax and a long, warm bubble bath and cleansing shower. My makeup was as good as I'd ever seen it. The eyebrow template I'd designed allowed me to have perfectly shaped brows which framed my green eyes which were highlighted with dark-brown liner and a smoky-grey eye shadow. The false eyelashes were further thickened with just the right amount of mascara and the soft, cinnamon-colored blush sat on top of a perfectly blended liquid foundation which was all covered with loose powder. My long hair cascaded down my face and curled gently around it. I wore it shoulder length and curled it under at the bottom. Soft, wispy bangs fell from one side to just above my right eyebrow. 

For my outfit, I'd selected a black, long-sleeved, rib-knit sweater with a jewel neckline and a moderately short goldish-tan skirt with a skinny black belt. I'd long ago ordered a computer-designed undergarment which gave me just the right amount of curves and a nice round tushy. I was wearing an expensive gold and black necklace with matching earrings and bracelet. I applied my own French nails which I'd painted to match my dark red lipstick. Silky suntan stockings and three-inch heels which matched my skirt and purse completed the look.

I was busy making dinner and with some light jazz coming from the stereo, I didn't hear either the garage door or Sarah enter the house around 8 o'clock. I'd poured myself a glass of merlot and as I set the bottle back in its place, I sensed motion behind me and to my left. I looked up and noticed Sarah, still in her scrubs, standing about ten feet away. My heart stopped and I froze in place not knowing what to say. In an instant I realized this was a make or break opportunity. I understood this was the way fate had chosen to present me with the chance to either take my love of crossdressing to the next level or possibly to divorce court. Instinctively, I knew Sarah's reaction would determine the path.

Sarah stood there motionless and just stared. Without saying a single word her eyes moved up and down several times taking in what she saw. "Oh—my—God," she said in a staccato voice. "So this is what you look like. Oh—my—God."

I started to speak when she said, "I don't want to discuss this now. I just need time to think. I'm not mad. I'm just confused. And shocked. I got off early and I was so exhausted I didn't think to call and warn you. I should have known but... Oh—my—God, Cal! You're absolutely, unbelievably beautiful." With that, she walked past me, picked up the wine bottle and poured herself a very large glass while I headed to the bathroom to remove all of my carefully applied makeup and turn back into drab old Cal.

Sarah said she didn't want to discuss this so I gave her her space. Our fifth anniversary was just two days away and my head was spinning with worries over how what Sarah had just seen might affect our marriage. I was also cautiously filled with hope that we might even reach our own version of FDR's "New Deal." 

We went to bed a couple of hours later and neither of us spoke. In fact, Sarah barely said two words to me the entire next day which was Sunday. Tomorrow was our anniversary and I'd made reservations at her favorite restaurant. I'd also bought her a beautiful pearl necklace and matching earrings I hoped might soften the blow. I assumed I'd find out soon. That is, if Sarah was ever going to talk to me again.

The Restaurant

Other than asking what time our reservations were for, Sarah still hadn't said much of anything to me (she was off all day and this was also a Monday/federal holiday so I was home, too) and that only increased my level of concern which was now bordering on paranoia. The one thing that served to calm my fears was that Sarah was wearing my favorite outfit—a white, long sleeved sweater, a short black skirt, four-inch black heels, and a beautiful necklace with matching earrings. She had always been good about indulging my clothing fantasies so I didn't read too much into it. My hope was we'd at least have a pleasant dinner and great sex later that night. My fear was hearing Sarah tell me she's not in love with a "woman" and that she wants a divorce. With all those thoughts swirling around in my mind, we arrived at the restaurant right on time after a short, quiet ride through moderate traffic.

An attractive young blonde seated us and told us our server would be with us shortly. In less than 30 seconds, a good-looking young man in a white shirt and black pants told us his name was Ken and asked for our drink order and if we'd like an appetizer. I ordered a bottle of expensive champagne as Ken thanked before leaving to take care of our order. As I turned toward Sarah, she slipped a Hallmark card out her purse and onto the table. She pushed it toward me and said warmly with the first smile I'd seen in days, "Happy anniversary, honey. I love you." 

Before opening it, I reached into my jacket pocket and removed her gift and card, slid it closer to her and said equally warmly, "Sarah. I love you, too. Happy anniversary. I just want to apologize for the other...."

"Shhh," she said holding her index finger over her mouth. "It's okay. I'm not upset. Open your card."

"No, you first, honey," I told her. 

"No, not this year. I want you to read what I wrote. So you first."

Love and warmth radiated from her eyes and face and yet it did little to quell the mishmash of thoughts in my head which had just turned into a veritable firestorm. She wants me to read what she wrote? What might that be? Is Callie being sent back to the closet? Is this the end of our marriage? Those and a dozen other questions took turns filling my cerebral processing unit as I opened the card and removed the contents. Inside of the card itself was a two-page, hand-written letter. 

"Read my note first, okay?" Sarah asked again.

I unfolded it and began reading. "Dearest Cal. The last five years of my life have been the happiest. I love you so, so much. You've always been there for me. You've supported me and my career no matter how many long, crazy hours I've had to work. You've never once gotten upset with me or even raised your voice. In fact, you've spoiled me rotten and I don't take any of this for granted. Thank you and I love you. Now for the hard part." My paranoia gland filled with fresh blood as I glanced up at Sarah to see if her facial expression might reveal any clues. She was still smiling as she nodded to indicate I should keep reading.

"I've tolerated your 'special interest' for over a year now. I told you I didn't want to see you dressed 'that way' and that seemed to working well for both of us until Saturday. Let me just say that when I walked in on you, I was so completely stunned by what I saw, I found myself at a total loss for words. Page 2. The emotion I felt most strongly surprised me. I wasn't angry or even upset. I knew this was what you enjoyed doing. What blew me away was how much you actually looked like a real woman. I kept looking and staring to find some flaw like an Adam's apple or big hands or anything and all I could see was a beautiful woman looking at me. What bothered me the most was all I could think of was that you looked prettier than me. I was so, so—jealous! I was upset. I felt hurt. I kept looking to find some clue you were a man but I couldn't find one. Your hair was beautiful. Your makeup was perfect. Your outfit was amazing and even your "boobs" and butt looked real! I was tired and sad and needed time to think. Well, I've done nothing but think for two days straight. In fact, I was awake all night thinking about what I wanted to say and how to say it. So here goes."




The Agreement



Again I looked at my wife as I imagined the other shoe dropping in the last few lines of this two-page, hand-written note." I continued reading.

"Cal, do you ever think about having sex with men when you're dressed up? I promise I won't be upset no matter what you say. Just please, please be completely honest with me and know that I love you. Happy fifth anniversary. I can't wait for number ten. Love, Sarah."

My heart was pounding so hard I was sure everyone could hear it over the background noise at the bar which was nearby. I felt panicked and excited at the same time because these relatively new feelings of fantasizing about being kissed by an attractive man. I wasn't homophobic, but the thought of being with a man while in drab was well, disgusting. But when I was a "woman", it seemed so natural that it had to be right. Did Sarah know? If so, how could she? If I told her, would it ruin our marriage? Would she think I was gay?

I sat there looking down at the table for a full minute before I finally managed to croak out a soft, "Yes. Sometimes. When I'm dressed up that is. But only then," I quickly added. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks again and felt powerless to stop it. I forced myself to look at her expecting to find her eyes filled with tears or get up to leave. 

Instead, she reached out her hand and told me, "It's okay. I thought that might be the case and...." Just then Ken back to take our dinner orders and we made small talk with him. As he walked away, Sarah continued by saying, "Cal. I can only imagine how afraid you feel right now wondering how I'd react. But I'm the one who's really afraid because...well, because of what I want to say right now."

"Sarah, honey. Please don't be afraid. You can tell me anything. Nothing will ever make me stop loving you. Just tell me how you feel so we can work through this."

Sarah looked down into her lap then raised her head and looked at me. She said, "I hope you can understand this but if not, please don't hate me for saying it, okay? This doesn't mean I don't love you, Cal. I just—I find myself fantasizing and well, I want to be with other men, too." Before I could respond she hastened to add, "That doesn't mean I don't love you with all my heart. I just can't get the thought of us double dating out of my head. Having two good-looking men take us out to dinner and then out dancing and then.... Watching your date hold you and kiss you and knowing you're completely okay with mine doing that to me, too. Is that crazy? Am I crazy? Are you angry with me?"

I sat in silence taking in every word and couldn't help notice my cock growing harder than it had ever been in my life. I replayed the conversation again to make sure I hadn't misheard and just as I began to speak, Sarah said, "Cal, please talk to me. Please tell me you still love me. Please." This time, I actually did see a tear forming in her eye. First one, then the other. My silence was killing her. 

"Sarah, of course I still love you. I will always love you. And no, I don't think there's anything wrong with that at all. In fact, I'm quite literally ready to cum in my pants just thinking about it. Are you sure this is what you really want?"

Sarah's tears fell as I spoke and then she dabbed her eyes with the linen tablecloth. As my acceptance washed away her tears, her eyes brightened and a smile spread across her face. "I'm very sure, sweetheart. I've never been more sure of anything in my life except for the decision to marry you. Are you okay with this, honey? I mean really okay with it?"

"I am," I reassured her. "I am more than okay with it. If I was religious, I'd say ths is some kind of answer to prayer or something. I couldn't be happier to hear you say that." I then cautiously explained how my own interest in men had snuck up on me. Subtly at first then more intense. I told Sarah my alter ego needed to get out of the house.

Sarah paused for a moment then asked me, "What do you call yourself when you're all dressed up? Does she have a name?"

"Callie," I told her. "I chose the name of Callie. Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay," she assured me. "In fact, it suits you. Not just because it's your male name with a female ending but because it's so logical. I'm not sure how good of a woman you'll make but if you think anything like you look, I'm sure you'll do just fine."

I took her hand and indicated I wanted her to sit next to me and by looking down into my own lap, she understood why I couldn't be the one to get up and move. She gracefully moved around the corner of the table and slid in beside me. I turned toward her and kissed her softly on the lips and whispered, "Happy anniversary, sweetheart. I love you so much."

"Happy anniversary, honey. I love you, too." 

Sarah just had time to open her gift before our first course arrived. She was thrilled with the pearls and asked me take off her necklace even as she removed her earrings. I did so and replaced it with the new strand of very expensive pearls while she put in the new matching earrings. "They're beautiful, honey. Thank you. Now we just need to get your ears pierced so I can buy you a pair of your own," she teased. Sarah's hand slid over my pants and she gently stroked my cock as we kissed again. Our tongues met briefly and only then did I realize that I was filling my underwear with hot, sticky cum. Sarah felt me shudder even as I struggled hard to suppress it. She smiled wickedly as Ken approached with our first course and whispered to me, "Okay, who gets fucked by Ken first, Callie. You or me?"

I excused myself to get to the bathroom before the liquid soaked completely through. I felt dizzy and lightheaded as I stumbled toward the room with the big "MEN" sign on it. As I tried to take everything in that just happened, the one thought that took center stage was how the next time we went out I might be choosing the door that said "WOMEN" on it. I could already feel myself getting hard again. My God how I loved her!

In the next segment, Sarah and Callie go on their first double date.



The Agreement



I was in my office when I heard his yell.

"Miss McNeil, my office. Now!"

That beautiful voice sounded just as wonderful when it was yelling. I got up quickly and walked to his office a few feet away. 

"Yes, Mr. Hart?"

"Come in, close the door and sit down."

I walked through the door and closed it before taking a seat in the chair across from him.

"Do you know why I called you in here?"

"No, sir. I'm sorry but I don't."

"I found something on your computer that should not have been on there."

"I-uh- don't, -uh"

"Don't try to tell me that this isn't you."

He pushed the picture across the desk. The one of me with nipple clamps, a ball gag in my mouth and tied to a bed. It was a picture I had posted to a BDSM site looking for a dom. There had been some interest, but nothing worth pursuing.

I hung my head down. I shouldn't have put it on my work drive, but now I was going to have to face the music.

"Yes, it is. I'm sorry sir, I-" He cut me off before I could continue my apology.

"Stop. You do realize that there will have to be consequences?"

"Yes, sir. I understand."

"Good. Now, one of these consequences is being demoted, to my secretary. It will be a trial period of course, if you perform well then you may have your job back. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Now, there is another thing. Although I think you might enjoy this one. After I found this photo, I looked you up and found a wonderful post on my new favorite site. I see you are looking for a Dom and I am looking for a sub. I think you are the perfect fit" I gasped. I had no idea that he was a Dom, although there could have been some signs that I didn't see.

"Close your mouth. Now." I obeyed, I had to. My submissive side couldn't help it.

"Now, I looked over your list and I couldn't have picked a more perfect submissive if I'd built her from scratch."

"You, looked at my list?"

"Yes, I must say it is very impressive. I didn't realize that my mousey and quiet junior copywriter was so kinky. I must say, reading your list was quite the turn on. I got hard right here in my office."

Another gasp escaped my lips as he got up and circled around my chair. He caressed my neck causing me to shiver. This can't be happening, every time I masturbated I pictured him as my Dom. Bending me over his desk and spanking me,

He leaned down to my ear and whispered, "My cock was so hard I had jack off, right here at my desk. I pictured bending you over it and spanking your naughty little ass before fucking you from behind."

My panties were drenched, picturing him jacking off to something I had pictured too. He must have felt my shiver.

"Mmm, did you picture the same thing I did? Answer me."

"Yes, sir. I've pictured the same thing while I played with my pussy."

"And did you come?"

"Yes sir, every time."

"And are you wet now?" He asked as his fingers made their way up my skirt and pushed my panties aside. He dipped him fingers in my pussy, causing me to gasp.

"Mmmm, you're dripping." He pulled his hand out from under my skirt and brought his fingers, covered in my juices, up to his lips and licked them. 

"And delicious. Now, I have a proposition for you. If you would like to hear it out, be at this address at 7 p.m. sharp in your naughtiest lingerie. I've already sent my list to your email, go over it before you decide whether or not to come. If you do not come, then I will not mention it again. If you do, well, be prepared. Now, leave."

I got up and left in a daze, this had to be a dream. I sat back down at my desk and opened my e-mail, and there it was. The e-mail he promised. I opened the attachment and read over the list and couldn't believe how much our lists matched. I never dreamed that I would find someone whose kinks matched mine perfectly.

**********

I walked up to the address at 7 p.m. on the dot and rang the doorbell. I waited patiently for the door to open and it did a few seconds later his face appeared.

"Well, well. Right on time, come in." He stepped aside and I walked through the threshold of his gorgeous home.

"From the fact that you are here and on time I am guessing that beneath that coat is your naughtiest lingerie."

I didn't say anything as I took my coat off to reveal what he wanted to see. There I stood in his foyer wearing my sexiest shoes and my naughtiest lingerie as he requested; crotchless black panties and a push up see through black bra.

"My, my, that certainly is naughty. Come sit and we will go over the arrangement. " 

I followed him into the living room and sat down on the couch. I saw some papers which I imagined was the contract, I didn't expect any less from such a powerful man.

"Now, you see the contracts. They state our limits and the arrangement. Here is my proposal, during the work week, Monday through Friday 8:30-5 you are my secretary, but you will be expected to obey me when asked. I will alert you as to when this will begin by saying "make the changes necessary" which will be code for our playtime. Starting Friday at 6 p.m. and ending Sunday at 6 p.m. you are mine completely. It will be playtime the entire time. You will reside in my home during that time. You will arrive here after work and be expected to be naked and in position waiting for me at the front door ready to suck my cock after a long day. Now, wardrobe. At work you will wear either skirts or dresses and no underwear. I want access at all times. When you are in this house you are naked, completely. The only time you are allowed to wear anything will be when you are cooking. I don't want any burns to that beautiful body. At work you will call me 'Sir' always. At this home it will be 'Master' at all times. Now, I did notice in your limits you were interested in anal, correct?"

"Yes, Sir."

"As we haven't signed the contracts yet, I will allow that term. You've never had anal sex before though, have you?"

"No, Sir."

"Good, I've always wanted take a fresh ass, but don't worry. I will prepare you beforehand which brings me to another article. I want to take your ass and soon, so preparations will begin right away. At work you will arrive and be waiting in my office for me at 8:30 at which time you will bend over and life your skirt or dress up and present your ass to me. I will insert a plug and you will wear it all day. If you need to use the restroom you will come find me first and alert me. I will take the plug out at which point you will use the restroom and come find me afterwards for the re-insertion. At 5 p.m. you will again walk into my office and present your ass to me. I will remove it and you may go home. On Fridays however it will stay in, all weekend and the same rule applies for restroom use. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good. I do not like to share what is mine, very often. So your desire for a double penetration may be fulfilled if you are a good little slut. If you have earned it, I will allow another to fuck what is mine while I take your ass for the first time. On stage."

I gulped at the idea of everything. I was so turned on by everything he was going over, there was only one possible kink he might want filled that I had marked in my soft limits list.

"You're dripping on my couch. Does that mean you are ready for the next article on the list?"

"Yes Sir."

"My, my, such an obedient one I am acquiring. Anyway, the lactation. I notice you have it in your soft limit list. I have often thought of it; liked the idea of swollen breasts and pointed nipples waiting for me to suckle. I have liked the idea of my slut sitting in my lap while I drink from her breasts at the conference table."

He was making me wetter, I was coming more and more around to the idea. Picturing sitting in his lap while he suckled away at my breasts.

"We will discuss that later down the road, that particular feature takes awhile to get going. So, what do you say Miss McNeil, would you like to sign?"

I picked up the pen quickly and signed the papers he had laying in front of me.

"My, my, you are an eager slut. And you are mine now. It is a Friday and it is time to play. The playroom is the second door on the right. I expect you to be in the position naked and waiting in 5 minutes. Now!"

I rushed quickly out of my seat and up the stairs and found the second door on the right. I opened it and was stunned for a minute. There was a large bed dominating the right side of the room, I saw what looked like a gynecologist's table, with stirrups on the left side of the room. Next to it was a Saint Andrews cross. I also saw a spanking bench and a sex swing. I was salivating, and running out of time. I snapped myself together and stripped off my lingerie and set it on the chair next to the door. I got down on my knees and put my hands in my lap and looked down. I heard him open the door and walk over to me.

"Well I can certainly get used to this sight. Now, we're already behind what our normal routine would be. Suck my cock."

I looked up to see the largest cock I had seen, including those porn videos I had watched. It was 9 inches long and 6 inches in girth. It had been a long time since I had had something other than a vibrator or dildo and definitely nothing this large.

"I said suck it, now!"

I took it in my mouth and it was glorious. I bobbed my head up and down, gagging a little, but I knew I'd get used to it. He groaned in satisfaction.

"That's a good little slut. Suck my cock like the good little whore you are."

He knew what this was doing to me, I liked being called a slut and whore. I was growing wetter by the second. 

"Keep going, I want you to swallow whatever I give you."

I moaned in agreement as I moved quicker and sucking and licking his cock causing him to groan.

"That's it, yes. Here it comes slut, you better swallow it all."

With that I felt him explode in my mouth and eagerly swallowed everything, he tasted delicious. I gulped everything down until there was no more. His cock popped out of my mouth and he lifted my chin up with his finger.

"Very good slut. Now stand up."

I eagerly obeyed because my knees were starting to hurt. He circled me, inspecting my naked body.

"Oh the things I have planned for you." He said with a devious smile. 

"Bend over, spread your legs and grab your ankles. As I mentioned earlier, we are behind schedule."

I bent over and spread my legs as he asked, I felt myself dripping like never before. I kept my head down as I heard him walk away. He came back and dipped his finger in my pussy, it felt so good, but I had to control myself. My orgasms were no longer mine, they were his. I felt him drift the finger to my backdoor and dip inside. It felt so foreign that I gasped, audibly. He heard it and smacked my ass, hard.

"Quiet! I want no sound from you or you will be punished."

I bit my lip to keep any noise from escaping my lips, although it was hard. He continued with his journey to my asshole.

"Your ass is nice and tight. I can't wait to stretch it and take it for myself." I felt something cold hit my crack and he spread it around inside with his fingers. Then I felt something larger than his fingers enter my asshole and pop into place. I knew it would stay there the entire time I was here and it felt strange, but I noticed how much wetter I was, if that was possible.

"Now, stand up straight and walk over to the cross."

I did and every step I took felt strange and wonderful at the same time with the plug in my ass. I never knew how wonderful it would feel and thinking how it would feel every day at work, sitting in that chair and running his errands, with no one the wiser made me flush with desire.

"Like the plug I see. Thinking about how it will feel wearing it at work with no panties? You may answer."

"Yes Master. I am so turned on at the idea of wearing it with only you and myself knowing."

"Very good slut. You've made my cock hard again, do you know what it will be like when you are wearing it at work? Do you know how hard my cock is going to be thinking of you sitting at your desk with a gift from me up that gorgeous ass? The ass that I own? Now, lift your arms above your head."

My arms rose before I knew it, he quickly tied my wrists together and hung them on a hook hanging from the ceiling. He tapped my legs, signaling that I was to spread my feet apart and he tied those too. I was spread for him.

"Now, this is a sight I have been waiting to see. You look so delectable tied up for me with that plug in your ass. But I think we're missing something."

He walked over to a table and grabbed some nipple clamps and a ball gag. He walked back over and sucked my nipples to little peaks and then attached clamps to each one before giving it a good, hard tug. It felt so good I had to bite my lip.

"Open." I obeyed and opened my mouth accepting the ball gag as he fastened it around my head.

"Now this is perfect. I think I need to capture this moment." He picked up a camera and snapped some photos. After he was done I saw him pick up a crop, I had always wanted to be spanked with the crop.

He walked over and caressed me with the tip before smacking it across my breasts. I had never felt such pleasure and pain before. He smacked my breasts a few more times and then circled around to my backside and laid the crop against my ass 10 times. I was dripping all over the floor. I knew he'd make me clean it up later, but I didn't care. He noticed the affect it was having on me and made sure to comment.

"Well, well. My slut sure is enjoying herself, dripping all over my floor." He smacked the crop against my pussy causing me to flinch. It took all my will power not to cum. 

"You are doing an excellent job of obeying and not coming. The first orgasm I allow you to have will be at my cock, not a toy. Beg for it."

"Please Master, fuck me." I mumbled through the gag.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. What did my slut say?"

"Please Master, will you fuck me?" I said louder this time.

"I still didn't hear you. You better ask for it slut or you won't get it."

"PLEASE FUCK ME MASTER?!" I screamed as loud as I could through the gag.

"Now, that's a good slut." He said as he slammed into me. He released the gag from my mouth.

"I want to hear you slut. I want to hear every noise I am causing by fucking you with my cock." He said as he moved out and slammed back into me. I screamed from pleasure, his cock was so large and I felt so full between his cock and the plug in my ass.

"Your cock is so, so big master. You feel so good." 

He moved back and slammed back in again causing another scream.

"That's it. I want to hear you. I want to hear the noises that I am causing. Your cunt belongs to me, your ass belongs to me, and your orgasms belong to me. No one else."

"Yes Master. I'm yours."

"Damn right you are, I can tell no one has touched your cunt in a long time. That's good for me, it's nice and tight and I can't wait to fuck your ass." 

He slammed back into me again and moved in and out faster, slamming into me harder each time. Each time the rhythm grew faster.

"That's it, milk my cock like the slut you are." He said slamming into me again and yanking on the chain on the nipple clamps

"Ugh, I'm your slut Master!" I was trying to hold back, but I wasn't going to hold out much longer.

"You can't cum until you beg for it."

"Please, Master. Please may I cum?" I asked gasping for pleasure.

"Cum my little slut, cum all over my cock."

With those words I came undone. I came harder than I ever had before screaming as he kept on fucking my pussy and the orgasm washed over me. I felt him cum into me, spurting over and over again. I had never felt such pleasure before.

"And this is only just the beginning my little slut." He said as he withdrew from me and left me hanging there to compose myself.