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Being Bad

By: vixen_deb



I groaned as I answered the phone. I'd only been asleep for 4 hours. I'd been up most the night, way too excited about leaving the next morning to meet a new spanker and too many things to do like making cookies, packing, painting my toenails, and loading the car... no time and no inclination to sleep. Since I didn't have the money to buy a few nice 'thank you' gifts, I'd decided to make a big bowl of chicken salad, potato salad and home made cookies, his favorite – peanut butter. And I'd tried to gather some energy foods like apples and oranges, crackers and cheese, things that took little preparation and nourished yet weren't heavy so we could eat when hungry without having to leave the cottage and so he'd not have to spend an arm and a leg on meals AND so we'd have the extra time to mix in play and talk and work with all the spanking he had planned. I'd even made a wedge shaped pillow to help me hold position during long heated sessions. Around 4 o'clock AM I'd stumbled to bed freshly showered, every joint in my body screaming in agony from the long hours of preparation, but satisfied that I was ready to leave as soon as I could dress, slap on some makeup and head out. I'd drifted off as the Advil liquigels kicked in and the aches began to diminish with thoughts of spending three and a half days at the beach with this new spanker in languid ecstasy... a great deal of the time with bottom presented. We'd been planning this trip for months and it was finally going to happen.

"Wake up, baby. I need you to be awake," came his hoarse throaty voice.

I groggily whispered, "I'm awake".

"I have to cancel the whole damned weekend. My elderly aunt fell and broke her hip and there's no one else to take care of her," he'd rushed through the words to get them out.

As hard as I tried not to, I began to cry. My first thought was that I was really very sorry his aunt was injured by a fall and then all I had done to prepare for this meeting began to flash through my mind. He didn't know the hours and hours I'd spent to ready myself to spend the long weekend with him. He had no idea of the weeks of preparation just to psyche myself up to come to him. I'm really shy by nature and extremely modest, so getting my 'head' ready to submit to all the things he had planned for me was not easy. I think all people play 'what if' games; what if I won the lottery, what if this or that happened and my life changed over night? And I think many play games with no intention of ever fulfilling their desires. But this wasn't a game or a dream... and I'd worked hard to prepare to 'do' things I'd never done before, to submit in ways I'd never submitted. All of these things can be a bit frightening the first time and it all becomes much different when your fantasies start to become your reality. It takes a toll on you... it's WORK to prepare. I'd been diligently readying myself... now all for naught. All the plans, the imaginings dissolved in my mind as if someone had sent a pouring rain to splash and run in rivulets down carefully painted water colors, the colors fading instantly, blending and becoming nothing as they flowed down the canvas, all in one instant. 

I managed to sob out, "I understand."

"Baby, don't do this to me," he pleaded and then, I guess in irritation with my reaction he'd said he'd talk to me later and hung up leaving me all alone to deal with the disappointment. Men and women think and process information differently. So in his masculine way he'd quickly accepted the circumstances and changed his thoughts to that of taking care of his aunt. He'd done the hard part of telling me about canceling our trip, that behind him it was time in 'manly' fashion to move on and take care of things at home. And I guess he never really thought about having family and friends, his work and his aunt to take care of and redirect his thoughts, while I, in a completely different place emotionally, was alone with nothing to think about but the pain of utter disappointment.

The tears flowed for hours. I cried so hard I'd given myself dry heaves. I was a wreck. And the worst part was fighting the belief that I'd gotten exactly what I deserved... nothing. Strange how one can be so hurt they get wrapped up in the emotional pain and begin to crave a physical pain that is stronger... to take their weary, overwhelmed mind off the negative and detrimental thoughts that plague them.

As the realization of dashed hopes settled in I decided 'fine! I'm all ready for new experiences, I'm prepared to submit, and by damn since you don't want me I'll find someone who does'. Oh, I knew he was disappointed too, and that there was no fault or blame... an accident and 'family'... but all the rationalization in the world didn't lessen the hurt. 

After crying all day I made a decision to go find a distraction. I showered; put on my makeup with extra care deepening all the colors I am usually careful to keep light and natural. Tonight I wanted to look like a slut. I wanted to be completely different than who I am. I wanted to be shockingly outrageous and anyone besides plain old mostly prim and proper 'me'. I didn't even want to think about morals or right and wrong or any of the rules to which I held myself. Tonight I wanted to be BAD. I pulled my hair up and back on the left side and pinned it in place with a small clip topped with a black grosgrain ribbon bow.

I dressed with care too. After hooking myself into the black lace bra I slipped into the black lace garter belt I'd never had the guts to wear. I inched the black silk seamed hose up my legs and fastened them in the garters thinking there was something very contrary and sexy about the tiny pink rose bud above each fastener and at mid-waist. I shivered hoping someone would be pulling 'down' the black silky panties I was wriggling into place over the garter belt and hose ~ ummm... so much easier to take down or off leaving the black belt and garters to frame the upturned bottom. I liked the effect of the black bra showing through the semi-transparent fine white cotton blouse. Stepping into and pulling up the pleated navy, red, white and black plaid skirt I decided the image I was trying to create was coming together even better than I'd hoped. 

As I tied the black string tie into a bow above the hollow at my throat and slipped into the navy blazer I began to feel a bit as if I truly was dressing for class at some prestigious prep school for girls. After scanning the shoes in the rack in my closet, I decided to wear the soft black leather Mary Jane's. I slipped a few necessities, and most important my invitation, into a small prim black shoulder bag and literally skipped to the car. I was determined to be young and carefree if it killed me. Determination to feel differently about my life and to pretend that everything was just fine began to shove down the disappointment enveloping me. I just wanted to be someone I am not and honestly have no desire to be... but for one night. A night of "pretend everything is okay and that I am a slut". 

Driving toward the club I was really glad I'd not eaten when my stomach began to do that crazy 'roller coaster' flutter. The little angel on my shoulder chattered incessantly that I should turn around and go home. I refused to listen. Soon I was pulling into the parking lot of the newly established BDSM club that had opened on the edge of town. I couldn't help but notice that the parking lot was filled with upscale model cars. And I couldn't help but notice the nicely leathered butt of some guy as he sauntered through the door either. My hands began to tremble and my breath came in quick gasps. I gripped the steering wheel and admonished myself that I wasn't some naïve child that I was on a woman with a mission. And as I grabbed my purse, opened the door, and slid out of my seat I said softly but out loud, "you CAN do this!" through gritted teeth and forced myself to walk to the door.

I smiled politely at the doorman as I handed him my invitation. His well fitting tuxedo hinted that the club was sparing no expense in this very private very exclusive new club catering to those with a fascination and desire for a bit kinkier lifestyle. I felt like an imbecile standing there in my 'school girl outfit', mortified to my core. The doorman was tall broad shouldered, clean-shaven with an immaculate haircut and nicely manicured nails. He had strong handsome features, and I guessed his age to be around forty-five. The doorman's voice was rich and smooth like velvet as he welcomed me and discreetly accessed my 'costume' and body. It was all I could do not to giggle when I saw the appreciative smile as his eyes traveled back to mine. He cleared his throat and leaned closer to ask if I would be meeting someone. I looked into his Hershey brown eyes, smiled, tilted my head shaking it ever so gently and answered, "no".

He smiled showing beautiful straight white teeth, "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Justin Colby. If you wouldn't mind mingling for a few minutes I'd like to show you around. I'll come find you as soon as the doorman comes back, he should be back shortly."

I extended my hand as I said, "How do you do, Mr. Colby, I am Meggin, thank you, that would be very nice", and felt a tingle run down my spine as his strong warm hand wrapped mine in greeting. I smiled as I thought how nice it was that he had a good firm handshake. (So many men don't! They take just your fingertips and waggle your hand like some disgusting 'thing' or take your hand as if they fear breaking it. It amazes me that so many men don't understand that first impressions are sometimes formed, and lasting impressions sometimes made from a simple handshake.) Justin's handshake passed with flying colors.

I took a step, turned and said, "I'll go mingle," then smiled and added, "and I'll be waiting".

I just glimpsed the sexy one-sided smile as I turned away and walked from the reception area into a large softly lit room. Tables for two, four and six were arranged in the center of the room with more than adequate space to move between them offering 'some' privacy to those seated around them. Each table held at its center a large flickering candle in a tall crystal holder. As I scanned the room I realized that all the light in the room came from candles, all in sparkling clear crystal, some topping floor standing holders and some in crystal sconces above eye level on the walls. What appeared to be small staged vignettes were centered on each of the four walls. There were also three doors on each side of the staged areas. In a far corner there was a man softly playing classical music on a shiny black baby grand piano. There was a harp standing near the piano, which I thought looked lonely and forlorn, and in the other corner on the far side of the room was a Wurlitzer Jukebox. I got the idea that music would be used to set different moods and wondered about the scheduling of 'events' mentioned in the brochure that had come with my invitation. 

People were talking and laughing quietly in clusters, some slowly milling about and some seated. It was interesting to note that most of the male guests wore dress casual clothes, outfits ranging from slacks and sport coats to expensive suits, and the women's outfits ran from tight jeans and halter tops to French maid's costuming. To my right was a bar so I made my way toward the smiling pony-tailed bartender in a white linen jacket. "May I have a glass of water on the rocks with a twist of lemon, please?" I asked.

"My pleasure," he replied making quick work of plunking several cubes into a glass and adding a bright yellow strip of lemon peel, then setting it on the bar before me, flashing a smile as he turned to take an order from the man I'd seen entering earlier in the leather pants. It was hard to keep my eyes off his very shapely butt. Watching the muscles bunch and loosen as he walked away brought the tip of my tongue to lick my lips.

I picked up the 'drink' and began what I thought would be a slow lap around the room, but just a few steps from the bar I felt a hand grasp my elbow gently and heard that marvelous rich voice say, "See? I told you that it would only be a few minutes and that I'd find you". He was beside me, sauntering with me toward the piano, close, close enough that I caught a whiff of clean mild citrus cologne. I felt like kicking myself when the thought ran through my mind that I'd rather be at the beach with my spanker and felt my heart sink once again as the disappointment reared its head.

I looked up at Justin, caught his eye and smiled. "Yes, you did," I whispered feeling a bit shy. "So? Are you a regular visitor here?" I asked softly, wondering what he was 'into' and if 'it' was something that would be wrong for me... like 'animals' or 'branding'... or that 'do do' thing. I was very aware that my desires were rather mild in comparison to the desires of most others who frequented places like this club. Still I figured if my attitude was 'to each his or her own' then hopefully I wouldn't seem too much like a Pollyanna to others.

He grinned and leaned close to my ear to whisper, "Actually I'm the owner, so yes I visit very regularly. What did you come looking for, Meggin?" 

The heat of his breath on my ear sent a shiver streaking through me, but his question shocked me. I stopped short, heart racing. Lord, how did I explain what I was looking for? I honestly didn't understand the emotions coursing through me causing a tension so strong I could feel them physically like monstrous claws. I'd dressed and come racing to this place determined to find someone who would beat the stew out of me... but I knew that desire came from the pain of disappointment and that I really didn't deserve a beating, I deserved instead to be held and reassured that everything would be okay. Still I had to fight the yearning to be treated like dirt, to be used coldly and roughly by a stranger and then discarded like trash. I swallowed hard and peeked up into Justin's eyes, lowering my chin quickly. I felt the sting of tears welling in my eyes and turned my face away.

Justin's arm circled my back and he pulled me just a bit closer. "Come with me," he said as he walked me to one of the doors near us. Fishing a key out of his pocket he unlocked and opened the door ushering me into the room. After closing and locking the door he turned to grin, raised his eyebrows and said, "master key", jangling it then slipping it back into his pocket.

I almost gasped. I knew this was a sex club and that at times there would be demonstrations and public displays of different modes of spanking, whipping, flogging, and caning, but I'd never have imagined the room in which I found myself when Justin flipped a switch that lit the soft light of the bedside lamp. The room was about 16 feet square with floral papered walls of hunter green and muted shades of rose and plum on a cream back ground. There was a soft patina on the surface of the antique oak desk against the same wall as the door. Head to the wall at my left sat a queen sized canopied bed with a coverlet of the same floral print as the wallpaper. The wall I faced is the one that had taken my breath. I'd never seen a standing cross except on the computer, nor a spanking bench. And I'd never seen implements displayed artfully on a wall either. I'd never seen a flogger or a cane except in photos on the net. Against the wall to my right was a leather sofa and two leather chairs, one with an ottoman, all cozily grouped for conversation. Down the same wall a bit beyond the sitting area and a door (I assumed led to a bathroom), there was a small brass clothes rack with hangers extending from the wall.

After opening the door and asking me if I needed to use what was indeed a bathroom Justin walked to the sofa, reached out motioning with his hand, "Come sit, Meggin. Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong that you looked as though you might faint on me," he said as he lowered himself into the corner of the sofa.

My chin dropped. I didn't want to share the pain of my disappointment with anyone, nor did I want to tell anyone my very private thoughts. But I slowly walked to him and sat right beside him where his hand patted the sofa. Before I could wriggle into a comfortable position his left arm wrapped around me pulling me closer as his right hand gently cupped my face lowering my head into the crook of his shoulder. In alarm I tried to pull back, pushing out the words in a rush, "My makeup will ruin your tux, Mr. Colby."

"It's just a suit, Meggin, don't be so concerned. Talk to me. Tell me why you came here, girl," he admonished gently.

Despite wanting to keep the story to myself, it all came pouring out in a torrent of emotion. I told him about the weeks of planning and the effort I'd put forth to meet my new spanker. And I told him how I'd been feeling. I told him I felt abandoned even though I knew I hadn't been, that I knew no one was at fault. I even told that I'd simply wanted to 'do' something that would totally distract my mind and confessed that with every attempt I'd made it only drove home the realization that I wanted to be at the beach living the fantasies. He listened making soft sounds of understanding, every few minutes his fingertips lifting my chin bringing my eyes to meet his. He made some brief comments, but said very little. Every so often his hand would gently brush from cheek to temple. And I realized after awhile that as I'd become more emotional his arm had tightened and the caresses of his hand had become more firm giving me a sense of security.

When I finished, took a deep breath and sighed. The room was steeped in quiet with the exception of the heart I could hear softly thumping away in my right ear. He held me in silence for what seemed a long time before he cleared his throat and asked, "What did you come looking for, little one?"

I wanted to bury my face in his chest but didn't want to leave streaks of makeup on his beautiful black jacket. I could feel myself going rigid. I shook my head slightly. "I honestly don't know," I breathed the words out on another sigh.

"Yes, you do, girl. Tell me," he instructed, his voice a bit firmer.

I looked up into those eyes so deep brown they seemed bottomless. "But, Mr. Colby, I know the thoughts that drove my desires... ummm... the ones that brought me here are wrong for me." My lips began to quiver and I felt that warning sting in my eyes, my chin dropped. 

Oh those fingertips were quick to lift my chin up as he peered into my eyes and said firmly, "Tell me."

Tears welled in my eyes as they dropped from his gaze and I stuttered, "I came looking for someone to beat me, use me and throw me away."

"Good girl", he whispered as he brought me close, both his arms wrapping me tightly. I felt him kiss the top of my head before he added, "No, girl you don't want to be abused. But I do think you need to be taken in hand, don't you?"

I tentatively nodded my head.

His arm loosened and his right hand slid from my shoulder down my arm to clasp my hand. "Girl, look at me," he said as his hand tightened on mine.

I lifted my head, brought my chin up and looked into his eyes. I couldn't keep my eyes on his though they darted down to the right, peeked into his and then lowered again. I felt like a bug under a magnifying glass. God, I was nervous. I whispered, "yes?"

"Meggin, stand up," he instructed.

I slowly slipped off the sofa and stepped to stand in front of him. My chin lowered, eyes continued to dart. He knew too much. Why had I ever admitted anything? Why hadn't I lied and said I was just bored and thought I'd check out the club?

He reached to take both of my hands in his. "Meggin, this is the fifth time you have been sent to my office. You're sassiness with your instructors is out of hand. It seems we have a real behavioral issue to handle. And as your previous spankings haven't corrected the behavior this spanking will be much more severe."


Being Bad



This story involves peeing. If that isn't your cup of tea, don't read it. But if it is your cup of tea (or pee*wink*), enjoy! Remember to vote and comment!

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Hannah jumped as her phone started to vibrate from her back pocket. She had been masturbating: her hand shoved down her jeans and her fingers rubbing her clit furiously as she imagined pissing—outside, in public, in a man's mouth, anywhere. She reluctantly lifted her butt up and grabbed her phone, wiping two wet fingers on her bedspread.

"Hello," Hannah answered, breathless.

"Hey, Han... uh... why are you breathing funny?"

"Oh, hey Mandy! I was, uh, running," Hannah lied. "Working out."

"Oh." Mandy didn't sound sure; Hannah held her breath. But then Mandy continued.

"Okay, so my parents decided last minute to go on vacation, and I need a huge favor. Can you come check on Penny once in a while? She's in her pen outside and has a ton of food and water, but I just want to make sure she's okay while we're gone."  

Penny was Mandy's pet rabbit. She had a huge hut and pen outside and she was usually fine out there, but Mandy was overprotective.

"Yeah, sure, Mandy! I can do that." Hannah reluctantly buttoned up her jeans and stood up. The mood was gone. "When will you guys be back?"

"We're leaving tomorrow, early, and we'll be back in three days; Wednesday."

"Sure, Mandy. I'll go check her tomorrow night and every night after. That okay?" Hannah walked downstairs and opened the fridge.

It was summer and nineteen year-old Hannah was home from college. Mandy was her best friend, and they lived a 5 minute walk from each other.

"Yeah, that's fine. Thank you so much for doing this! I'll stop by later to give you extra food for her, just in case. You don't need a key, right? She's outside."

Hannah shrugged, deciding on a water bottle from the refrigerator. "Nah. I won't need anything inside."

" 'Kay. Thanks again, Han. I'll be by later."

Click.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next evening, Hannah walked down her street, holding the bag of food, just in case. Her mind wandered as she strode past the suburban homes and trees, thinking of how much she didn't fit in as suburbia's typical good girl.

For as long as Hannah could remember, she had liked to pee where she knew she shouldn't. She had always liked to pee in her panties, and it had taken her a long time to potty train: not because she wasn't capable, but because she just liked the feeling of peeing into her panties. As she grew up, her love of being "bad" had turned into a fetish. She liked to pee anywhere but a toilet, and especially outside. It made her feel bad and wild.

Hannah was about 5'5", and curvy. Double D breasts topped her chest, and she enjoyed her curves, although being short had its downfalls. She was pretty, but looked, outwardly at least, like a "good girl." Her golden-brown hair was usually in a neat, curly ponytail over one shoulder, and she wore clothes that didn't make a spectacle of her breasts. She wore glasses, giving her a (she hoped) sexy librarian look. Hannah was not someone who looked like she would have such a dirty fetish.

But in the heat today, Hannah was wearing a mid-thigh-length dress that showed off her cleavage in a tasteful way. It was much too hot to cover up.

When Hannah arrived at Mandy's house, she walked around the back of the house and opened the gate to Penny's pen. After looking around for a moment, she spotted Penny lying in her hut, asleep. She checked the rabbit's food and water bowls, and, finding both full, sat down in the grass and pulled Penny out of her hut.

Twenty minutes and much play later, Hannah sat Penny back in her hut and stood up, brushing off her skirt. But as she ran her hand over her stomach and brushed off the dirt that had transferred from Penny's paws to her dress, Hannah felt a familiar pang in her bladder.

She had had to pee only a little when she left her house, but now she really had to go. Realizing that she had no key and couldn't get inside, Hannah sighed and looked around.

Through the thin trees, Hannah could see to the next house. Her neighbor was working in her garden, turned away from Mandy's house. Hannah thought for a moment about going over and asking to use Mrs. Cooper's restroom. But then she realized.

This was the perfect time to be bad. No one was at Mandy's house, and Mrs. Cooper wasn't paying attention.

Hannah looked around. Where is the worst place to do this, she asked herself. She wanted to be bad. She wanted to be sooo bad. She wanted to get that release she felt when she did this; the release from her good girl exterior, the release of being bad.

Suddenly, she saw it. Across the backyard, right in front of the tree line, was a grouping of outdoor chairs with cushions on them.

I am so naughty, she thought. SO naughty. She knew it was nasty, gross, depraved. But she wanted it more than anything at that moment.

Walking slowly towards the chairs, Hannah thought about what she was about to do. She was about to deface her friend's parent's property. But they would never know it was her. No one would know that it was she, Hannah, that had pissed right on their chair.

Hannah stood in front of the chair and looked down at it. The light tan material was sure to stain, badly. She felt a tiny pang of guilt for ruining Mandy's parent's chair. But the guilt dissipated quickly. It gave way to excitement.

Hannah had peed places she shouldn't have before. Outside, in sinks, in showers. But she had never done something this bad. And she was excited to be bad.

Lifting her skirt, she grabbed the top of her panties, bringing them down. But when they were halfway down her legs, she stopped. Hannah wanted to make the most of this feeling. She wanted to get the thrill of pissing in her panties, in addition to the feeling of peeing right on a cushioned chair, outside. So she pulled her panties back up her legs, shivering when they hit her wet sex.

Hannah's heart pounded and her bladder throbbed. She was almost bursting now; her bladder was full to the brim.

Trembling with excitement, Hannah turned around and lifted her skirt, pulling it out of the way. She sat down, felt her panties and the cushion pressing into her pussy. She felt the wetness between her lips; she was extraordinarily excited by what she was doing.

Looking up and around one last time, Hannah realized that she was in full view of the driveway. It doesn't matter, Hannah, don't be silly, she told herself. If anyone sees you, you'll just look like you're sitting on the chair, watching the birds. And besides. No one will come.

Hannah took a deep breath and pushed. She felt a small trickle of golden liquid escape her lips and wet her panties, but she realized that she was too nervous to allow her bladder to fully open.

Calm yourself, Hannah scolded her mind. You like this, remember? And no one is going to come.

Taking another cleansing breath, Hannah started peeing again. This time, her piss gushed from her full bladder. In an instant, Hannah felt a million different things. The breeze on her skin and the realization of how depraved she was being combined to give her raging goose bumps.

The grass on her toes made her feel close to nature, but the feel of the chair reminded her that she wasn't just pissing outside like any other animal, she was being bad. VERY bad.

And the most overwhelming feeling: the pee gushed from Hannah's pussy lips, first pooling inside her panties. She loved this feeling. A grown girl, pissing once more into her panties like a child, being bad like she wasn't in any other situation.  

The pee broke through the thin cotton of her pink panties and soiled the cushion of the chair as Hannah began to moan. The feeling of her piss wetting her chair cushion below her made her want to scream her pleasure. She ground her clit into the chair as piss continued to gush from her sex, soaking the cushion.

Hannah was lost to the world. She had her eyes closed and her head thrown back, and she felt like she had been peeing for hours, not mere seconds. She felt an orgasm approaching as she ground herself into the cushion. She was so bad. She was peeing into her panties like a little girl again, but as a grown one now. The simple idea of it was enough to make her horny as hell. But actually doing it... that was enough to make her come.

She never came this fast. But this time, now, her orgasm was racing at her. A spring inside her coiled tightly, and she ground her pussy into the soaked cushion of the chair, moaning her pleasure.

Hannah was so lost that she did not hear footsteps approaching on the blacktop. She was so close to her orgasm. So close. But then a shoe scuffed.

Hannah's eyes snapped open. David was standing no more than six feet from where she sat, piss gushing from her core.

Suddenly, Hannah became aware that her piss had soaked through the thin chair cushion and was now pattering onto the ground below the chair, pooling in a hot yellow puddle. In any other situation, this sight would have been the image that drove her orgasm to completion. The evidence of her naughtiness, the sight of her depravity.

But now, with the 28 year-old neighbor—that she had always had a crush on—standing in front of her, the image drove the blood from her pussy to her cheeks, and abruptly stopped the waterfall that had still been falling from her core.

David was standing stock still, staring at the piss dripping from the chair underneath Hannah.

"I... um... I'm sorry... I was looking for... um..." he stammered, looking anywhere but Hannah's eyes, mainly at the puddle of her pee underneath the chair.

"Oh my god." Hannah felt tears pool in the globes that David refused to meet. "I... oh my god." She got up and pulled her skirt down.

"I'm so sorry...oh... I was... oh my god... I'm... I'm sorry..." The disjointed phrases tumbled from her lips. Word vomit, she thought. That's what her teacher called it.

She was about to rush away when she saw it. While trying to look at the ground, more embarrassed than she had ever been, her eyes had strayed upwards, to David's shorts. There was a noticeable bulge in them, and he was now staring at the huge wet spot on the chair cushion.

Now it was Hannah's turn to stare. Her eyes fixed on the hardened shaft that strained at her neighbor's jeans. She had thought of it often in her masturbatory explorations.

David was tall and fit, attractive, but off-limits. He had always been way too old for her, and she had left her fantasies of him just as fantasies. But now...

Now he had caught her, defacing her friend's property on purpose, pissing right into a chair and loving it. He had caught her being bad, being depraved. And he liked it.



Being Bad: Bi-guy Erotica



As Jenna knelt and swirled her tongue around Gregory's big, fat cock she kept her eyes on her husband. Matt, her husband, knelt with her and watched with wide, eager eyes. She saw him licking his lips as he watched her swallowing Gregory's massive member. Her mouth made a popping sound as she pulled away, leaving Gregory's fat cock glistening from time spent between her lips. She smiled at her husband, pushed Gregory's cock in Matt's direction and uttered the two words she knew would thrill Matt, "Your turn!"

If you're a bisexual man, like myself, then I'm willing to bet that little description felt very good for you. I believe bi-guys appreciate seeing a woman sucking cock on another level than straight guys. I'll even twist around thoughts expressed by famous radio talk show host Howard Stern. According to Stern, an admitted heterosexual, he can't stand watching girls in straight porn sucking dick because it feels "gay" to him if he finds pleasure watching that. 

While I don't agree with Stern, I will admit, I enjoy watching a woman giving head for two reasons. I appreciate the sensation of feeding my hard cock to a woman eager and willing to offer her lips and tongue to me. I love how it feels to receive a blowjob. I love how a woman looks when she's sucking dick. There's a raw, sexuality to the sight of a pretty girl with a big cock in her mouth that gets to me. If I'm looking at a picture of that action, I want to be that man feeding her MY cock! But, as a practicing bisexual man, I can appreciate the act from the opposing point of view. I know how it feels to be on my knees, opening my mouth to feel a man's throbbing thrill against my lips and tongue. I know the taste, texture and scent involved with being the sucker instead of the suckee.

To me, male bisexuality is as normal as female bisexuality. Perhaps it's not as widely accepted, but that's not my point. My wife and I used to swing. We had profiles posted on various swinger oriented websites that specifically mentioned our interest in finding other bisexual men. It always amazed us how many men would contact us even though, in their profiles, they listed themselves as straight. I respect that and based on those experiences, I firmly believe there are a lot of bi and bi-curious men in the world.

Personally, I prefer my bisexual guys to be like me: alpha male in appearance and behavior. I'm a guy. I play sports, I workout, I can split a cord of firewood in an afternoon by hand. I'm not going to cry about a split nail and I wash my hair with good ol' shampoo and condition, not "product." The only facial I want comes from another man and not from a bottle, LOL. The guys I want in my bedroom should be the same. 

I understand lots of people have problems with guys who go both ways. Consider the porn star James Deen. Is he straight or gay? He's done both. Consider how often "straight" porn stars cross swords in straight porn. One of my favorite examples of straight guys crossing swords in porn would be a double penetration. I know that thrill from firsthand experience and part of the thrill is feeling the other guy's prick rubbing against yours through the thin membranes separating the woman's body parts. 

Being "bad" is a thrill. Many people enjoy pushing the edge of polite society. What is considered "bad" varies. Examples include exhibitionism or sex in a public places. I've had women who enjoy anal sex, in part, because it feels "naughty" doing it up the back door. Though your opinion may differ, I believe "being bad" is a primary thrill behind much incest erotica. Regardless of how you define being bad, playing with the idea of who's in charge is powerful stuff in erotica in and real life. Many women have secret non-consent fantasies (guys too, for that matter). "Being taken," I believe, is code for that idea. 

With these thoughts in mind, I believe bi-guy erotica provides a penultimate opportunity for "being bad." Though I believe this idea is wrong, I believe many people still identify a man willing to suck off another man as being something less than a "real man." (I have a cord of wood in my yard that would suggest otherwise, but I'm hoping you get the point.) The same is true of a guy who enjoys anal sex. Show me a guy who likes getting it up the butt and I'll show you a guy whom most of the world struggles understanding. 

Here comes my final thought: what about the guy doing the fucking? What about the guy feeding his swollen, hard cock into the mouth of another man? In so much bi-guy oriented erotica, one guy gets presented as being so straight, he can feed his dick to another man without being branding as less than a man. What's up with that?

Embrace your sexuality, people. Walk lightly upon this earth and be tolerant of those different than you. 



Being Bad



My knees began to feel like jell-o and my stomach twisted. My lungs pulled in a deep breath. I didn't know what to say. My chin dropped lower. Did I want this?

"I'm going to change, and I'll be back in ten minutes. When I come back in this room, I want you in position over the bed, skirt raised over your back. Do you understand?"

I whispered, "yes."

"Yes, what?" he growled softly, the words coming from deep in his throat.

"Uhhhh... yes, Sir?" I asked.

"How else would you address the Dean of this school, Meggin?"

"Yes, Mr. Colby?" I blanched.

"Oh, girl you are in for a hiding," he replied. "You will address me as Sir. Do you understand?"

I whimpered, "Yes, Sir".

"Remember this, Meggin. Your safe word will be RED called out in succession three times. RED, RED, RED. Calling out your safe word will stop all action. Have you got that?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir," I whispered as I nodded.

With that he rose, straightened his attire and left the room with one cursory glance over his shoulder, his eyes searing into me then sliding to the bed. "This side of the bed, Meggin, I want to see your bottom when I open the door". And he was gone. The door clicked shut. 

I waited just a few seconds, went to the door and turned the knob. The door opened, it wasn't locked. I could leave if I wanted. Did I want this? I began to pace, my mind lecturing about my rash behavior in coming here. And then I berated myself for answering this stranger, telling him things I'd really not even wanted to admit to myself. They'd just been fantasies, hadn't they? Or was I ready to for this? I knew that time had a way of playing with your mind when you were confused and nervous. The seconds seemed like minutes and the minutes like hours. I felt as if I'd been in this room for a very long time. What was I going to do? I heard a soft sound at the door and rushed to the side of the bed. The position was a bit awkward as I leaned over laying my upper body across the bed. Feet, knees and legs tightly together, the position arched my back raising my bottom high. I grimaced and gripped my skirt sliding it up and over my back. Why hadn't I worn a slip? I felt myself moisten between my legs. I wondered how long I'd paced, how long it had been since he left and how long I was doomed to stand in this ridiculous position.

It seemed like an eternity before I heard the door open and I was blinded by the thought 'what if it's not even him'? I squeezed my eyes shut and waited.

"Good girl." (Ah, his voice.) I sensed him walking around behind me. I could feel his eyes slipping over my form. His hand coming down just above the small of my back startled me and I jerked in response. Why didn't he say something? His hand felt hot on my back and much like I would imagine a chunk of lead might feel. His hand began to make small circles. I tensed. "Meggin, I will spank until I see true contrition. We simply cannot tolerate disrespect to our instructors. Do you understand?"

I managed to mumble, "Yes, Sir".

I felt him move to my left side. His voice was firm, "Spread your legs wide."

There was no way I could move. I froze. Went rigid. He moved behind me. "Girl, don't make me start with a paddle on this cold bottom. Do as you are told."

It felt like I was in mud to my hips as I began to move my feet apart. When they were about shoulder width apart I stopped. I felt cool air swirling between my legs causing a chill to run down my spine.

SMAAAACK! "I said spread your legs wide!"

The place his hand had landed stung like fire. I'd not been prepared and had squealed from the shock. I also spread my legs – wide apart.

He had moved to my side again. "I'll begin. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Sir", I whispered.

I was surprised by the quickness of his hand coming down again and again. Each pop overlapped the previous one as he deftly covered my entire bottom. Soon my hips began to squirm. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Over and over his hand came down. It seemed that each time it was a little harder, a little hotter, and a little more intense. I heard myself let out soft moans and grunts and wondered where they came from as my hips began to twist and try to tuck. I could feel myself becoming wet as my pelvis rocked trying to avoid the stinging smacks. The first few slaps to my sit spots brought soft 'ooohs'. It wasn't long before both cheeks, my sit spots and high on my thighs stung and from the inside, felt hot. I could hear his breathing deepening as his effort built. Then he stopped.

My body began to relax as his hand slid over the mounds of my cheeks. All too soon the rubbing stopped as he said, "Stand up."

I slipped my legs together and pushed myself up off the bed. As my back straightened I took a deep breath and sighed. I felt my skirt slide down over my hips and fall back into place.

"Remove your skirt, Meggin," he said.

My face flamed. I'd thought he was finished. That same crazy twist returned to my stomach. I felt my legs weaken and begin to quiver. Trembling fingers moved to the waist of my skirt and fumbled to undo the button and zipper. When I released it, it fell to the floor. I felt a little queasy as I bent and stepped out of the puddle of skirt on the floor. As I stood I felt my blouse slide to cover my backside and thought 'thank heaven for long shirt tails'.

His voice came again, "Hang your skirt on the clothes rack".

I picked up my skirt and walked to the clothes rack. I placed my skirt on the hanger and hooked the hanger in place then turned to face him unmoving as I awaited for his next instruction.

He was pulling the straight-backed chair from the antique desk. He turned the chair into the open space with its back to the desk and sat. He'd exchanged the tuxedo for pleated navy slacks and a long sleeved blue chambrays shirt. At the moment he was rolling up his sleeves. I watched in nervous fascination as he slowly, cuff turn by cuff turn bared strong forearms covered with soft dark hair. I couldn't help but notice that he had beautiful hands, large and slender, with long straight fingers.

The look on his face was serious, almost sinister as he called me to him. "Come here, Meggin".

Amazingly, my jell-o legs pushed one foot and then the other until I was standing just off the point of his left knee. "This will be the second portion of your spanking, Meggin," he informed me in a hushed serious tone, "Over my lap now like a good girl". 

My breath caught in my throat when I noticed the paddle lying on the desk behind him. I dragged my eyes away from the fierce looking wooden paddle to study his lap a moment and then reached out to lower myself across the sharply creased slacks. As soon as my stomach touched down he grasped me, arranging me as he wanted me, head low with my bottom tilted high over his right thigh. "Hands on the floor, girl," he said as his fingers folded the long shirttail up over my back. "Tut-tut, Meggin. You are out of uniform. We do not allow anything but white cotton underwear under the school uniform. A black bra and panties? This will cost you twenty additional licks."

I shrieked as I felt his fingers work under my panty legs to cup my cheeks. "Nice and warm, Meggin, just as it should be," he said then deftly grasped the elastic at my waist and lowered my panties to mid thigh. The warm rush of blood as my head had lowered now flamed in embarrassment. What had I gotten myself into? I reached back trying to stop him but he just chuckled as his hand circled my wrist and pulled it up out of his way. I tried to pull it loose but stopped as his hand came down sharply on my right cheek. "

OUCH, shit!" I heard myself yelp. The devilish chuckle infuriated me as much as the words when he told me that I'd not felt anything... yet. His hand smacked cheek-to-cheek, top to bottom of globe and then made its way from sit spots to upper thighs. With in moments I was wriggling over his lap trying to evade that peppery hot hand.

"Now you will count the extra twenty for wearing black panties."

Smack! "One." Smack! "Ooof, two." Smack! "Fifteeeeeen." Smack, "Ohhh, twenty."

I wanted to rub my bottom so much it brought tears to my eyes. The skin of my bottom and thighs felt hot and parched. It really stung. I almost sighed as his hand began to rub his handy work. His hand felt like fire, increasing the sting rather than weakening it and still I found myself relaxing. As his fingertips grazed my crack and slid to brush my lips by breath caught. God, I wanted him to touch me and I found myself wishing I was the kind of girl that could part my legs in invitation. Then his words brought my eyes open wide, mouth too in silent shock and I heard the old adage, 'be careful what you wish for because you might just get it', as what he said hit me, "Spread your knees as far as you can with your panties around your thighs."

I just couldn't.

"I'm going to paddle you. Spread your knees! It's for your good. You won't be able to tense this sweet ass and that will actually make it easier for you." He explained in a manner that sounded more like a command. 

But my knees simply wouldn't part. It wasn't as if I 'knew' this guy. I believed him, but I also believed he was a PERVERT. When I heard him threaten, "Part your knees NOW or I'll call someone in here to hold them apart FOR YOU," my knees snapped apart making the elastic almost cut into my thighs.

"Good girl," he almost crooned as he shifted and I heard him add, "I'm going to let go of your hand. Place it on the floor. If you reach back again I'll have to bind your wrists. We don't want any broken fingers, do we?"

I growled thinking, 'okay the fun is over. Time to leave', but placed my hand on the floor determined to keep it there. 'No, I didn't want any broken fingers'. Then my breath sucked in, in a rush as I felt the paddle connect with my sore bottom and blanched from the loud crack that hadn't completely died away as the next sounded and bit into me. It didn't take him even ten good licks to have me writhing over his thighs. As the paddle landed again and again my feet began to kick out. Soon the biting sting of his fiery rhythm brought my calves up tight to tuck against my thighs and try to protect my vulnerable bottom. By twenty licks I was crying, the tears dripping off my face. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! And I was apologizing for something I'd never really done. Another five SMACKS and I began to plead with him to stop.

I don't know why it took so long for my brain to register that he had stopped. I went limp, hiccupping and panting as his hand began to rub. A shiver streaked through me as his fingertips grazed sliding in the slick wet between my lips and I gasped. But his hand moved on rubbing as if he'd touched me by accident as my mind screamed, 'touch me... oh please touch me'. Next thing I knew he'd lifted me, turned me and gathered me into his arms and was dabbing under my eyes with a tissue.

"You've been a very good girl, Meggin. So good in fact, I am going to allow you to choose the final portion of your spanking. Which shall it be? The cross or the bench?" he whispered teasingly in my ear. And with those words he brushed the hair back from my damp temples and holding me tightly in his arms for just a moment before ushering me off his lap.

My mouth fell open. Hands reaching back to rub my blistered bottom I stood gaping at him in disbelief. "Ummm, cross or bench?" I asked. "Are you kidding?" And then I though about how I must look standing in front of him panties around my thighs rubbing my butt under the long shirt tail and I felt like a complete fool. My breath caught as a tear slipped down my cheek as I thought, 'I should be at the beach with my 'kind' spanker'. My mouth closed and my chin dropped.

"Meggin! Is this the way you address the Dean?" he growled the question.

"No, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir... I... I... just forgot for a second," I whined.

"Make your choice."

I looked to the other side of the room. Both contraptions seemed archaic and cruel. The cross had cuffs attached to each corner. The bench didn't look much better with its belt straps. Eyes darting back and forth between them, I glared at both as if the position in which I found myself was their fault. I heard him clear his throat and my decision was simply made. I didn't believe I could stand through whatever was coming. So I whispered, "the bench, Sir".

"A fine choice girl," he said and then added, "Remove your clothes, Meggin."

"But, Sir!" I gasped.

"Remove your clothes!" his direction left no choice as he walked back toward the wall and stood studying the hanging implements at his disposal. 

I thought to myself, 'in for a penny, in for a pound' and quickly decided to strip at the bed side rather than waddle with panties at half mast to the back of the room; even if that meant I'd have to walk nude from the bed to the bench. I slipped my panties down and stepped out of them. I unhooked the garters and slipped out of my stockings. Garter belt and then blouse followed panties and stockings all neatly folded in a nice stack at the foot of the bed. I turned my back again and unhooked my bra letting it slip off my arms and folded it before I turned to place it like a cherry on top of the small stack of clothing. I realized that I'd been doing everything 'quickly' tonight, not allowing myself much chance to really think. And I knew why. If I had taken any time to think, I'd have run home feeling like I had a wide yellow streak down my back. So, this was out of character. The fact was, my life was just about as prim and boring as anyone could imagine. That and I really NEEDED tonight. Hard to admit that miss prim 'needed' spanking. The realization came like a lightning bolt, 'sometimes the hardest person to whom you submit, is yourself'. 

Heart thundering in my ears and stomach churning like a spin cycle on a washing machine I lifted my chin and walked regally (if I do say so myself) naked as a jay bird to stand at the edge of bench. I fought to keep my arms loosely at my sides when what I really wanted to do was cover my breasts with one arm and cup my shaved mound with my free hand. I felt the gooseflesh rise on my arms, then cascade down my legs. But I stood like a queen head held high awaiting Justin's instructions.

He came to me and held out a flogger, "Hold this while we situate you."

I took the flogger in my hands and was surprised at how soft the many strands were to my touch. I thought it wasn't as soft as chamois, but close, as Justin cupped my waist and guided me to bend way over the thickly padded leather top of the bench. I quickly shifted the flogger to one hand as he bent first one leg and then the other, placing my knees to the outer edge of the kneeling shelf and buckled them into place. The strap he buckled over my back at my waist was only cold for a few seconds, then warmed to the point I really couldn't 'feel' it. I wriggled a bit to test movement... there wasn't any play at all. Low in front of me was a wooden bar for grasping. My hands circled it to grip it tightly. Talk about VULNERABLE! My bottom was way in the air, legs spread wide and I was strapped down like a dead deer on the hood of some pickup truck. I almost giggled as an inner voice cried, "hey! No rack, no balls... uhhh, DOE!" Then I did giggle as I realized I 'did' indeed have a rack!

"So, Meggin, you think this is funny?" he leaned to scowl in my face.

It got even funnier... I couldn't answer him. I did try... but this whole night had been so surrealistic and I was so nervous that I was caught in a fit of giggles. Funny how his holding out his hand and instructing I hand him the flogger ended the giggles instantly. I lifted the flogger up to him but he had to wrench it out of my hand, so tightly did my hand grip it. Darned fingers just wouldn't open.

He walked behind me. The only warning was a soft swish. My legs jerked in the restraints and my head flew up. I'd not have believed that soft thing could leave so many lines of fire if I'd not felt it strike my backside. He raised the flogger back and brought it down with what I knew had to be expertise as it set every inch of my flesh on fire from bottom of tailbone to mid thigh. Over and over the strands stretched out to fan stripes like stinging nettles all over my backside. My body flailed and jerked with each crisscrossing lash. I was still puzzling between lashes about how anything that had felt so soft lying still in my hands could HURT so much on my pore sore derriere. The lashing seemed to rain down forever. 

I'd long since ceased to fight hanging limp and accepting as tears flowed. I rallied once, took a deep breath gritting my teeth and was just about to yell out the safe word he'd given me when the lashes changed. He was doing something very different... the flogger was caressing me now.

Oh! Another discovery I'd not have believed unless experienced. The strands of the flogger almost gently wrapped my thighs. Then like many warm fingers the strands fell softly into the separation of my crevice. When Justin changed position and aim the silken fingers curled between my legs gently striking my clitoris. Over and over the tails came down to tease and then caught to slide through my wetness as he pulled them back. Once again he had my body writhing, but this time it was not from pain. The mixture of the heat and sting left behind from the harsh lashes combined with the gentle flicking of my most sensitive places began to drive me into a frenzy. I was so lost in the delightful feeling I whimpered in protest when the lashes stopped and I felt Justin unfastening the binds.

He caught me from behind slipping his hands under my arms and lifted me back against him, steadying me and helping me to stand. I shivered as his hot breath rushed with his whisper into my ear. "I want to give you pleasure now, Meggin. Real pleasure. Will you allow me to pleasure you?"

All I could do was whimper and nod my head back against his neck. Steadying me with one hand he reached to rip the covers down on the bed exposing snow white sheets. He turned me in his arms holding me for a second before laying me down across the center of the bed. His strong hands lifted my legs, placing my heels over his shoulders as he pulled my bottom right to the edge of the bed. When he looked into my eyes there was such tenderness there I had to close mine lest I cry.

His hands slipped to cup the backs of my knees as he pushed my knees back to rest at the outside of my breasts. Then. Oh, God, then he lowered his head between my legs and I felt the tip of his tongue sliding between my lips. My back arched, head grinding back into the bed as the tip of his tongue began to slowly circle my clit after dipping repeatedly into my fountain. I felt my hands clawing at the sheets twisting them as I gripped tightly while holding my breath. Eyes closed I absorbed the exquisite pleasure his tongue was giving. When he instructed me to grip my knees and hold myself open for him my hands slipped to do his bidding. His mumbled words about how sweet I tasted, how good this was, sent streaks of electricity to zap my nipples and race shooting to my core. I didn't want him to ever stop. 

It felt like I was drifting in a sea of heat that pulled me down into it and at the same time lifted me up higher and higher. I had no thoughts other than the intense reaction of my flesh under his tongue. Each sensation rivaled the next as my mind locked on the intensity and depth of the feelings. Justin's tongue was making me crazy. I heard a deep low sound growing in strength and was surprised by the sound of my own growling. My hands gripped the backs of my knees and pulled them further back and apart, unable to get myself open enough for this man as his tongue lazily circled my throbbing clit and two fingers slipped stroking in the slick wetness of my vagina. I could feel inner muscles contracting trying to hold his fingers deep wanting the wonderful feeling of them sliding along my inner walls, not to stop.




Being Bad



I could hear his breathing coming louder, stronger as his tongue began to flick across my clit. My pelvis lifted to his tongue, pushing closer wanting more. Tongue sliding back and forth across my clit as his fingers slipped into and out of me to push in once again... my back arched as all feeling and sensation began to gather at my core. I felt my body tensing as his tongue began to run up and down my hard aching bud. It almost hurt it felt so good. 

Through gritted teeth I groaned, "I'm... I'm... Oh, God... I'm commmmming!" So close was that familiar all encompassing feeling that gathers and then explodes through you making you feel weightless and so free it has to be like what a bird feels when it flies. Then it happened... my whole body began spreading wings to fly... I wanted to leap into the sky higher, higher, higher. A finger pushed into my anus, stretching it, hurting and at the same time feeling intensely good that my entire body began to soar as it began to move in rhythm with tongue and fingers. Gasping and shuddering in climax my thighs clamped tightly against Justin's head as my hips jerked and bucked in flight. Justin kept on... whispering against my clit, "One more, Meggin... give me one more." His tongue pressing harder against my clit as it continued it's stroking, lifting me once again to into that weightless flight. My body jerked and bucked every muscle tense... then once in flight, relaxing as it soared. 

I lay exhausted, limp, panting and felt Justin slip up beside me and gather me into his arms. He held me safely, securely as I soared and then finally landed. I felt unsure, confused and very shy as I burrowed into his chest. His voice, gentle now, praising and complimenting me began to push away the confusion. 

I lay there in his arms wondering what you say to a stranger who has just given you wings and helped you to fly. It seemed very inadequate as I whispered, "thank you, Justin", but his arms tightening around me holding me close as he whispered, "No, baby... thank you" was all the reassurance I needed to know that 'thank you' was enough. 

Once home lying in bed in that deep blue black darkness alone I thought about where I was supposed to be. It still hurt a little to have missed out on the trip to meet my new spanker, but I felt good about stepping outside the confines of my self imposed cage and doing something totally unlike myself. My last conscious thought before I drifted away to sleep was... maybe I've never been who I thought I was.



Being Barbi's Bitch



After ten wasted years of foolishly trusting in love to 'cure' me of my femininity, I had only just begun to re-embrace the sissy inside me when something made me reach out to an old friend. What made me do it, I really don't know. Although I was once again revelling in even the smallest aspects of my femininity, treasuring and celebrating them in a way that only someone who has truly missed them can appreciate, I had made a conscious decision not to reach out to old friends. 

It's not that I didn't miss them -- I did miss them, and terribly -- but I was afraid that they wouldn't welcome the contact. Having been away so long, and having left the community so abruptly, I was afraid they would be angry with me for abandoning them.

I know I was angry with myself.

For some reason, though, something compelled me to reach out to Barbi. Not only was she one of my oldest and dearest friends, but she was always an erotic inspiration to me. No matter how life would bring me down, or how unfeminine I might be feeling, she was always there as an example of what all sissies and shemales might aspire to. She was my shemale goddess of transformation.

As delighted as I was to discover that her Fetish Shemale site was still around, I noticed right away that it hadn't been updated for a while. I didn't really give the fact that much thought at the time, but anxiously clicked on the email link, just to say hello. 

To be honest, I was very much afraid that she wouldn't remember me.

Much to my delight, she not only responded that same night, but she did remember me. We got to chatting, and she soon revealed to me that she had taken a bit of a break from her career, for personal reasons, and was planning to retire altogether.

That news left me heartbroken -- for my goddess, for her fans, and for my own missed opportunities. Years ago, we had made plans to get together for some fun and maybe even a photo shoot, but something always happened to get in the way. We never did get our chance to meet up, and now that I had rediscovered her, I realised that chance would never come again.

I knew, right then and there, that somehow I would make good on those missed opportunities. If Barbi Satin was going to retire, then I was going to find some way to ensure that she ended her career with a bang.

Literally.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

As it turned out, it was nearly six months later before I got my chance. My ex and I had just finalized our divorce and, on a whim, I decided to buy a scratch ticket to celebrate. Imagine my surprise when I won! It wasn't anything life-changing, but it was more than enough money to treat myself to a nice break, far away from the ex, the mother, and the rest of their wretched family.

I knew, instantly, what I had to do. It scared the hell out of me, but the very idea of it gave me such a thrill that I knew it was the right thing to do.

Barbi and I were still chatting on a semi-regular basis, and I had an open invitation to stop by any time I was in Pennsylvania. There were no commitments or expectations, just an invitation from one friend to another. Finally, after all this time, I planned to not only take her up on the offer, but to offer her the chance to take full advantage of the situation.

As much as I wanted to be with her, just once; as much as I desired the touch, the taste, the feel of my shemale goddess; as much as I need to place myself at her feet and have her validate my femininity; I was doing this, first and foremost, for her. If it hadn't been for the fact that she was retiring, and I wanted to say 'thanks' in the only way I could, I never would have thought to impose.

Less than a week later, I found myself deep in the heart of Pennsylvania. Even with the GPS I somehow managed to get lost, but I eventually found myself parked in front of Barbi's quaint little home just as the sun was going down.

My heart was racing. My throat was dry. My hands were shaking as I stepped up to the door and knocked. I was actually taken aback for a moment when she answered the door dressed like your average, ordinary housewife -- assuming, of course, that your average, ordinary housewife came equipped with a 42 DD chest, 27 inch waist, 38 inch hips, and the bulge of an 8 inch cock in her panties. 

"Yes?" she asked.

I was trembling so hard, it took me six tries before I could get a single word out. Instead of the practiced, rehearsed, perfect speech I had prepared on the drive down, I dropped my jaw and uttered a single, "Wow." 

She looked at me strangely for a moment. Forewarned by her past experiences dealing with Customs & Immigration, I'd had to be careful about how I presented myself when crossing the border. I had fully intended to stop somewhere on the US side to make myself properly presentable, but I was just too excited to waste a single moment. 

As a result, I was looking very androgynous in a pair of women's sneakers (white with a few subtle pink accents), unisex shorts (black), and a woman's t-shirt (white). Even without makeup, padding, a wig, or jewellery to give me away, a woman would have noticed the fit of the clothes. Fortunately, the college-aged kid who checked my passport never looked twice.

"Heathyr?" Her eyes lit up in recognition. She reached out and crushed me to her chest. It felt so good, after all this time. "What the hell is your problem, girl? Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

I smiled and returned the embrace. Her body felt incredible against me, so perfectly shaped in absolutely every aspect. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Well, it certainly is that." She stepped back, giving me another look at her. Even though I had never seen her in anything other than leather and latex, she looked just as stunning in a t-shirt and jeans. Her body still had the kind of curves that any woman would die for, and her face was still sexy as hell, even without makeup. Of course, it was that telltale bulge between her legs that nudged her from gorgeous to absolute perfection.

She ushered me inside, but I paused on the doorstep. If I was going to do this, I had to do it right. I'd practiced this a hundred times on the drive down but, unlike my greeting, this was something I couldn't afford to blow. I had to do it, and I had to do it right, even if all she did was laugh me off.

"Well?" she asked. "Are you coming in, or what?"

I dropped to my knees on her front porch, where any passing motorist or nosy neighbour could see -- as few, and as distant as they might be -- and leaned over to kiss the toes of her right foot. "Your humble slave hereby presents herself for your pleasure and amusement." Up until that point, I had been consumed by worry that she might reject me, but there was no longer any doubt in my mind as I continued kissing her toes. "I know you're planning to retire, Goddess, so I am offering myself, as unworthy as I am, as your retirement present."

For the longest time, she just stared at me. What might have been running through her head, I have no idea. All I could do was continue worshipping her feet.

"Your sissy slave comes all expenses paid," I explained. "Whatever you might desire this week, please consider it part of my humble gift to you."

"You do understand what you're saying, don't you?" She shoved her foot into my mouth and watched as I sucked her big toe like a tiny little cock. "If you are serious about doing this, then you will be my bitch." She began thrusting her foot in and out, fucking my mouth with her toe. "You will obey my every command, without question, and you will do it all knowing that the entire world will be watching." She pulled her foot from my mouth and took another step forward. "Do you wish to be my bitch?"

"I do." I kissed the calf to my left. "Make me your bitch." I kissed the calf to my right. "I want to be Barbi's bitch."

She chuckled softly. "Oh, you fucking little slut . . . you shall."

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

It was a long drive into the city, and Barbi wasn't one for idle conversation. So, to fill the silence, she asked me questions and let me embarrass myself with the answers. When I started telling her about the sheriff who followed me through about 15 miles of empty roads, and my fantasy of having to suck his cock to get out of a ticket, she actually reached over and gave my sissy clit a squeeze.

"Don't fret," she laughed, "there's always the drive home."

That seemed to break the ice a bit. The rest of the drive was a bit more casual, although Barbi still didn't give much away about herself. She was very, very good and controlling a conversation to the point where you had no idea just how well she had manipulated you until much later. Of course, as I hoped to explore for myself soon, I knew that conversations were not the only thing she was good at controlling.

A half hour later we found ourselves entering the city. Using my credit card, she had already made reservations for the honeymoon suite in one of the swankiest hotels for a hundred miles around. With her generous offer to have me pay for the privilege, they were more than happy to hold it for a late check-in.

"Turn here, bitch, and pull over behind that dumpster."

I had no idea where we were, but it looked sketchy. It looked like one of those dirty, dimly lit alleys you see on a CSI or Law & Order type show where some innocent civilian stumbles across a grossly disfigured body. It actually scared me to be there. Hopefully, whatever she had in mind wouldn't take long, or I was virtually certain we'd come back to the car to find it on blocks, with no doors, no seats, no stereo, and a body dumped in the back.

She popped the hatchback, took out my suitcase, and dumped my clothes in the ground. With no comment other than, "Come," she led me deeper into the alley. It was a good thing neither of us had slipped into heels yet, as we had to carefully navigate two trash-strewn, rickety flights of a well-used fire escape. "Let's hope they haven't changed the locks," she told me, "or you're going to be squeezing through a window."

As Barbi worked at it, she explained to me that the key was a quick copy she'd made several years ago, just in case she ever had the opportunity to use it again. One of her stripper friend of hers had used the original to let her in after hours for a video shoot back in the heydays of her site. I was pretty sure I knew which video she was talking about, and I was looking forward to seeing where it was filmed.

The door opened into a noisy, dimly lit, somewhat sour-smelling slice of heaven. There were dresses, gowns, skirts, corsets, stockings, bras, panties, peignoirs, and babydolls everywhere you looked. Lace hung next to leather, which hung next to PVC, which hung next to satin, which lay draped over a mess of cotton and rubber. Barbi could have locked us in that room for the week, and I would have been in heaven.

While I gazed around in wonder, Barbi had me hold open the empty suitcase as she began rifling though the collection of stripper's outfits hanging along the wall to her right. I wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she seemed to pull out every fourth or fifth piece and toss it my way.

As much as in awe of the potential for beauty around me, I was extremely uncomfortable with the idea of stealing, especially from our sisters in sex. As much as I tried to hide it -- I had, after all, promised to obey my Goddess' every command -- she must have noticed my hesitation. I was nervously glancing back over my shoulder, in case somebody should come in the same way we did, when I felt her slap me across the face.

Startled, I turned around to see the loosely-held red velvet glove make a return slap across my other cheek. It smelled like cum and, judging by the wet smack, it was likely still fresh.

"Stop being such a stupid bitch," she snarled, "These are the stripper's castoffs -- they won't be needed again tonight." She tossed the glove into the suitcase, along with its partner. "And since club is closed on Tuesdays, you will have two whole days to send them down to the hotel laundry to be cleaned once we're done with them."

Perversely, that really did make me feel better. I knew I should have been humiliated by the idea of asking the hotel to wash so much dirty, kinky laundry for me -- especially since she'd booked us in under the male name on my credit card -- but I was actually looking forward to it.

"Okay, that's it for here." Barbi had me zip up the suitcase before we hurried back down to the car. "Now, I need you to watch out for an ATM so we can withdraw a few cash advances off of your MasterCard." She watched me for a reaction, but I was already fully committed to the expense of being her present. "Trust me," she whispered, "you really don't want a paper trail leading back to your male masquerade from some of the people we'll be doing business with his week."

I swallowed loudly. "Thank you."

"After that, we need to make two more quick stops, and then you can start earning your place as my bitch."

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Once we arrived at the hotel, Barbi handed me her bag of purchases from the drug store and herded me into a bathroom that was larger than my bedroom back home. "Start with the enema first. Once you're clean, get your ass in the shower and shave."

"Yes, Goddess." I was trembling in anticipation. "Do you want me to shave my sissy clit as well?"

She shook her head. With a mischievous smile, she told me, "Listen, you silly cunt, when I tell you to shave, I intend for you to shave." She backed me into the bathroom until I nearly fell into the two-person tub. "If you come out of there with so much as a single hair anywhere below the top of your head, I will be very disappointed."

I nodded meekly, even as I fingered my eyebrows. How the hell would I explain them at work next week? I had no problem shaving the rest of me -- I'd done it enough times before, but the eyebrows scared me. At the same time, I was excited by the thought of just how much properly penciled-in eyebrows would transform me.

"While you're getting yourself ready, I need to make some long-distance calls." She pulled the door shut on her way out.

I immediately stripped naked. I ripped open the box and began fumbling with the enema kit. I'd never used one before but, like any good submissive slut, I knew how to follow directions. The kit came with a small bottle of lube, so I applied a generous amount to both my ass and the end of the plastic tubing. I filled the bag with warm water from the tap, added the 'cleansing' ingredient, and managed to hang everything from the showerhead using a wire dry-cleaning hanger behind the bathroom door.

If inserting the nozzle was uncomfortable, starting the enema itself was absolute misery. It took every ounce of my sissy submission to keep the solution inside myself for the prescribed twenty minutes. Of course, having to lie on my side in the cold tub probably didn't make it any easier. 

While I laid there, I could hear Barbi talking on the phone, although I couldn't make out what she was saying or who she was talking to. The door to our suite opened and closed a half dozen times, but I too distracted to notice whether it was Barbi coming and going, or somebody else.

When it was time to release, I hobbled over the toilet and silently sang out with relief as it all came pouring out. Too squeamish to look, I blindly flushed the toilet, and then hopped into the tub.

Barbi had bought me a bottle of lavender scented shaving cream and a twelve-pack of women's razors. I was determine to make the absolute best impression that I could, so I used one razor on each leg, another on my arms and chest, one on my eyebrows, and another on my pubes. The experience was actually very relaxing, and certainly helped to put me in a feminine frame of mind. By the time I was ready to shower away the residue, I could feel my fingers skimming and slipping across my soapy, naked, hairless body.

When I exited the bathroom, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in the black PVC minidress, full-length gloves, and knee-high boots I remembered so well from her photos. I could see the band of her black silk stockings protruding from the tops of her boots, along with the black lace ribbons running up her glorious legs to the garter hidden beneath her dress. The dress itself was cut very low, putting her incredible breasts on display.

My outfit, it turned out, was to be the precise opposite of hers. Where she wore black, I wore white. Where she wore PVC, I wore satin. Where she wore lace, I wore cotton. Where she wore a tight dress and little more, I was bound into a corset beneath mine. Where her breasts and cock featured prominently beneath her body-hugging outfit, mine were flattened and hidden beneath my own ensemble.

By the time I was done dressing to her satisfaction, I looked like an incredibly slutty angel just fallen from heaven, cast out for only god knows what kind of sins against nature. 

Barbi sat me down before the dressing table and began doing my makeup. I, of course, couldn't see what she was doing, but it felt like she was using a lot. Eyeliner, eye shadow, foundation, blush, lipstick, lip liner, powder, and a few other cosmetics I couldn't see well enough to identify were expertly painted across my eager visage. Before she would let me see, however, she placed a long, blonde wig on my head and used what smelt like glue to hold it in place.

She stepped back to take in the whole picture, but shook her head. "Something's not quite right." I wanted to look for myself but, even without being told, I knew better than to ruin her moment.

Suddenly, her entire face lit up with a smile. She opened the top drawer of the dressing table and withdrew some pink lace ribbons. She then proceeded to put my hair into pigtails, using the ribbons to tie off each tail. With that done, she paced a pink bow into my hair.

"Nope. Too much." She quickly took the ribbon away and tossed it back in the drawer. "Close your eyes."

I immediately did as I was told. I felt Barbi pull me to my feet and lead me into the room's walk-in closet. That, in itself, was a sissy's dream.

"You may open your eyes."

What I saw in the mirror was so startling, so unexpected, I had to look back over my shoulder three times to convince myself it really was a mirror, and that there was nobody else standing with us. The innocent, white, virginal slut in the mirror was . . . me. She -- or, rather, I -- was absolutely stunning. I couldn't pick out a single thing that did it, but Barbi had truly created something new with me. That single glimpse in the mirror was so amazing, the memory of that transformation would be worth whatever this whole adventure ended up costing me.

"Thank you, Goddess." I twirled in front the mirror and posed like a girl getting ready for her prom. "I never knew I could look like this."

"There's still something missing. Hold still." I heard her rummaging around in another drawer, and then watched her return in the mirror. She was the very epitome of shemale lust, a walking, talking, breathing example of the kind of perfection that was only possible with a little nudge to our natures.

"Bend over, bitch."

While bent over, I watched her draw a big pink heart on the small of my back with a glitter pen. She coloured in the heart, and then switched to a black Sharpie marker. With that, she wrote 'sissy slut' in very elegant, feminine lettering inside the heart.

"There. That's better." Barbi led me back into the main room of our suite, where she helped me into a pair of impossibly high heels. As white as the rest of my outfit, they were dull, brushed leather, designed to blend with my overall look. The heels on them were four inch stilettos -- far more daring than anything I'd ever tried on before.

"Get walking," she told me. "You have precisely ten minutes to practice before I send you on a little errand."




Being Barbi's Bitch



Errand? I froze in mid-step. She as going to send me out like this?

She laughed cruelly. "You're wasting valuable time, my slut." She made a show of checking the clock on the bedside table. "You now have nine minutes left to practice."

I don't know whether it was the pressure that did it, or whether I was just a natural, but I was walking quite confidently -- if not comfortably -- by the end of the ten minutes. I still felt like I was going to topple at any moment, but I did like the way the heels forced me to take smaller, mincing steps, wiggling my ass in the process.

'Very good." She handed me my credit card. "Now, take yourself down to the bar and ask for a bottle of their finest red wine, and another of their finest white. They'll probably offer to charge it to your room, but I want you to use the credit card."

I started to protest, but she grabbed my cheeks and forced my mouth shut.

"I want you to use your credit card," she whispered, "and sign the name of your male masquerade. Understand?"

With a quick nod, I grabbed the credit card and wobbled out the door.

Much to my delight, I was so completely passable as Heathyr, the bartender refused to accept my card. When he handed it back, he let his hand gently slide along mine, sending an electric thrill up my arm. He chatted me up and flirted with me while his partner retrieved the bottles, telling me it was a shame my 'boyfriend' was too much of a jerk to come down himself. He then took my hand once more and kissed it before I left.

On impulse, before my senses could get the better of me, I leaned across the bar and planted a quick kiss on his lips before sauntering back to our room.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Barbi, of course, expected no less -- although she was a little shocked that I'd had the nerve to steal that kiss. "Here I thought you'd need a little booze to relax you, but apparently releasing your inner sissy slut did that all on its own."

I was just about to say something completely inane when somebody else stepped in from the lounge portion of the suite. He was a scrawny looking boy, all sharp angles and protruding bones, with short black hair and a small patch of stubble on his chin. His mouth was set in what looked to be a perpetual scowl, judging by the frown lines on either side, and he didn't seem the least bit interested to be there.

Before Barbi could introduce us, he came over and held up a series of plastic cards against first my face, then my dress. "Let's clear up the situation right now," he said in a scratchy voice. "My name is Alan. I'm an FTM transsexual lesbian, and I'm only here because Barbi pays well for my services." He grabbed my face and turned it to the left, and then to the right, looking for my best side. "I have no interest in you, in her, or in whatever it is you're planning to do together."

"Oh, lighten up, Al." Barbi laid herself down on the couch and lit up a cigarette.

He ignored her completely. "While I'm sure Barbi won't be able to resist offering her suggestions, I am the photographer, and this is my shoot. You will do as I say, and nothing else." He spun me around, measured my frame with his hands, and then pushed me away. "Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

The photographer almost smiled. "You're off to a good start."

While Alan set up, Barbi instructed me to pour the wine -- red for the two of them, white for myself. There were more lights, screens, flashes, and mirrors involved than I had ever imagined. Our room certainly looked like a professional photographer's studio by the time he was done. I imagined it must have cost a pretty penny for all that equipment, not to mention his time, but I found I didn't mind one bit.

For the next hour, they made me pose for a series of photos. Alan moved me around the room, put me into awkward positions, chastised me for being too rigid, and ridiculed me for being so loose. He made me hold poses for what seemed an eternity as he captured my sissy curves from every angle, or adjusted the lighting to be just right. The whole time, he kept reminding me to keep my eyes wide and innocent, even as the rest of me screamed the news of my sexual awakening.

Modelling was far more work than I ever guessed, only increasing my already immense respect for my Goddess. She'd been doing shoots like this for over fifteen years, and in far less forgiving surroundings than we found ourselves in.

At the end of the hour, Barbi got up off the couch and disappeared into the walk-in closet for a moment. When she came back out, she had a black bullwhip in her hands and a pair of handcuffs. She approached the bed with slow, deliberate, oh-so-sexy steps, her shapely legs almost hypnotizing me with their gait.

"Beg for it, bitch."

Although self-conscious, at first, I soon got forgot about Alan and got right into proper sissy begging. "Please, Goddess, use your sissy. Tie me up, whip me, make me service your every desire." She continued to stand beside the bed. "I need you, Goddess. I need to be your bitch. I need to serve you, to love you, to lick and suck and caress every in of your perfect form."

"How would you serve me?"

"Any way you please, Goddess. My mouth is yours to fuck. My throat is yours to fuck. My sissy belly lives only to consume your magnificent cum." 

She handcuffed my right hand to the bed. 

"My sissy cunt is yours to fuck. My anal virginity is yours to claim. I have cleaned myself for you Goddess, so that you can shove that magnificent cock deep inside me and fuck me raw, fuck me into oblivion, fuck me until you've shot your cum so deep inside me, it will never come out."

She handcuffed my left hand to the bed. The whole time, our photographer kept snapping away.

As Barbi hovered over me, I stared right into the valley between her breasts. The spiderwebbed heart tattoo on her left breast was larger than life, almost demanding that I lick it off. "Oh, please, Goddess, use me for your pleasure. I am nothing but a useless sex toy, an elaborate doll with which to fulfill your desires before tossing me away like another piece of worthless trash."

She began caressing me with the whip. "Would you let me hurt you?"

I hesitated, but only briefly. I loved bondage, but was terrified of pain. I was a sissy in every sense of the word, but I was fully committed to this. "Yes, Goddess." I swallowed my fear and let the sincerity shine through my eyes. "If it pleases you, Goddess, I will take the pain you offer and accept is as the utmost pleasure, because it came from you."

SNAP! The bullwhip extended halfway across the room with one flick of her wrist. It sounded painful, and all it had bitten was air. Barbi began gently slapping it across my body in a big 'X', coming in from the left, and then the right, and then the left again. Each kiss of the whip was a little harder, until I was flinching as much from the expectation of pain as the pain itself.

Alan came closer and zoomed in on the pink welts appearing across my skin. I could tell that was turning him on.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Hmm, a little early." Barbi quickly flipped the whip around and shoved the handle in my mouth. "Suck it," she commanded, "while I see to the door."

Unable to grasp the whip with my hands, which were still handcuffed to the bed, I sucked the handle of the whip, tasting her sweat in the well-used leather.

"Is this the bitch?"

I opened my eyes to find a huge, hulking, tattooed biker standing next to the bed. He was easily six-foot-two, nearly three hundred pounds, and looked like he could pick me up with one hand. At first glance, he looked dirty, like somebody who would have been hanging around the alley where we 'borrowed' the stripper's outfits, but a closer look proved it was part of a carefully crafted image.

Beneath it all, he was actually extremely clean and very-well groomed.

Barbi climbed up onto the bed, crossed her legs, and settled down between my legs. "I need you to prove yourself to me, Heathyr." She reached up and began stroking my cock beneath the layers of white. "I have a bit of a fetish for pierced nipples, and I want to be the first to enjoy yours."

My eyes must have betrayed my terror, because she quickly set to work calming me down. "It's not as bad as you think," she promised. My limp sissy cock slipped free of its cotton panty prison and began growing in her hand. "Between the wine, the cream, the ice, and the . . . distraction -" she gave my cock a few hard strokes to emphasize, "- you'll barely feel a thing." With my cock still in her hand, she leaned forward and kissed me. It was a long, deep, hard kiss, full of love bites and lots of tongue. "You did say you were my present," she reminded me, "and this is what I want."

What could I say to that? "Please pierce me, Goddess." Much to my surprise, I found that I meant it. "Put your mark on your bitch's breasts and make them yours." The very idea of it had me harder than I had ever been in my life. "I want to be your fetish."

"Can we begin, already?" The biker was standing beside the bed with some frightening looking instruments in his hand.

"I'll be in the lounge. I don't need to see this." Alan walked away and closed the adjoining door behind him.

"Are we ready, Heathyr?"

I nodded, too afraid to speak.

Now sitting on the far side of the bed, opposite our guest, Barbi continued slowly stroking my cock, holding off every time she felt my balls begin to swell, as the biker set to work. At first, I couldn't help but watch as removed my top, washed my shaved chest with disinfectant, and then began squeezing and pinching my nipples to make them hard.

"Drink up, Heathyr, and watch only me." As the white wine filled my mouth, I stared up into Barbi's eyes and found something there I had never expected. It was party sympathy, part gratitude, and part . . . well, not quite love, but affection. It told me how much she appreciated this, and that was probably the most potent pain-killer of all.

"Nggghhhh!" I nearly choked on the wine as the first piercing shot through my nipple. "Aaaahhhaaiiee!" Sweat broke out over every inch of my body as the second piercing stabbed through.

Barbi stopped stroking my cock. She leaned over, kissed the sweat from my forehead, and smiled. "Absolutely beautiful - thank you."

I looked down and found a small gold hoop through each nipple. Careful not to move them too much, Barbi lifted then to show me the tiny pink heart decorating each ring.

"Magnificent work, as always, Carl." Barbi rolled off the bed and walked around to the biker's side. "Will the usual do?"

He laughed. It was a deep manly laugh, the kind that struck terror into a sissy's heart, even as it set that heart to fluttering. "You know it, babe."

With that, Barbi dropped to her knees, unzipped his jeans, and took his cock into her mouth. It was already hard -- I could tell he enjoyed his work -- and it took her less than a minute to get make him cum in her mouth. Entranced, I watched every moment of it, wishing that I was down there with her, paying my fair share. When he came, I saw her cheeks bulge with the volume of sperm, and drooled over the thin, white trails running down either side of her mouth.

When she turned to the bed, I saw the glint in her eyes and hoped desperately that she was going to do it. She sauntered over to the bed, visibly swishing and gargling the cum inside her mouth. She leaned over me, pulled her hair back, and let a long string of white begin to stretch from between her dark red lips to mine. I could smell it, almost taste it, and opened my mouth wide to accept it.

To my dismay, she slurped the string of sperm back into her mouth and swallowed it all with a lip-smacking grin of contentment. "Sorry to get your hopes up, bitch, but the only cum you're tasting tonight is your own." She wiped the stray cum from her chin and licked the finger clean. "And mine, of course, should you prove yourself to be worthy of the honour."

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Between the pain, the wine, and the stress of it all, I must have dozed off for a while. Next thing I knew, I was standing in the shower with a naked Barbi standing before me. She was gently washing my nipples under the hot spray. It still hurt -- a lot -- but it was the kind of pain you could almost get used to. Then, of course, you moved and it exploded fresh and fiery inside your chest.

After the shower, we dried each other off, and she applied more cream to my nipples. It helped to numb the pain a bit, although it made me want to keep touching them to confirm they were still there. Barbi batted my hands away twice before I managed to control myself, warning me that I'd get an infection if I didn't leave them alone.

By this point, Alan had returned and was taking photos again. He circled around us, shooting up and down, close-up and from afar, as we dressed. Barbi slipped back into the black PVC dominatrix outfit that was her trademark, while she dolled me up as a slutty Catholic school girl. The blouse was too small. It showed off the tender, swollen mounds of my pierced sissy breasts, and revealed a good inch of naked belly at the bottom. The skirt was too tight and too short, revealing a glimpse of my bulging panties to any who cared to look.

Barbi pulled fishnet stockings up my legs, intentionally tearing them in spots as she did so. The only thing she allowed to be perfect was the seam running up the back of each leg. My shoes were small little black numbers, scuffed and worn, with six-inch heels that made it hard for me to stand. 

As for my makeup, it felt slathered on, far more heavy and bold than my earlier look. Whereas she had sent a virginal shemale slut down to the wine earlier, it was a whorish sissy slut she'd be calling up for whatever she had in mind now.

This photo shoot was much like the first -- another hour of dancing and prancing around to Alan's rapid commands, stretching and contorting my body into positions never before imagined. Barbi sat on the couch, enjoying her wine and cigarettes, speaking up only to ensure that Alan emphasized my flat chest and swollen cock with the photos.

I was still somewhat weak from the pain (no doubt buzzed from the wine), but I loved every moment of it. For some reason, the brazenness of my outfit turned me on far more than the perfection of my earlier look, making me want to fall to me knees and cry out for Barbi to use me. By the time we were done, I was so horny that pre-cum was literally running down my stockings.

The photo shoot ended with me lying on the floor, looking up at Barbi's black panty-clad cock, while I sucked her heel and licked the sole of her boot. "So, what do you think," she asked me. "Is my slut ready to become my bitch?"

I knew better than to stop sucking, so I just nodded frantically.

Barbi pulled her heel from my mouth, stepped across the room, and laid herself down on the bed. "If you don't mind, Al, I'd like you to stay for this. I know you have your limits as to what you'll photograph, but if Heathyr's deflowering is to be my retirement present, then I'd really like a record of it to enjoy."

Much to my surprise -- and Barbi's, judging by the look on her face -- Alan actually smiled. "I'd like to see where this goes. You've always been a great client," he told Barbi, "and I've grown rather fond of your little sissy here." Alan came over and nuzzled my cheek with his stubbly chin. "If you ever decide to get rid of that piece of meat between your legs and become a real woman, look me up."

With that, he turned away and began not only setting up his photographic equipment, but checking and adjusting Barbi's video recording equipment as well. I'd completely forgotten about the video camera until that moment. Were we live? Was I being used and abused for the titillation of an invisible audience? I was surprised to find that the idea really didn't bother me. In fact, it turned me on. As shy as I normally was, Barbi's bitch apparently was a brazen little slut.

Barbi ordered me to pour drinks for Alan and herself, although the photographer had barely touched his last glass. With wine glass in hand, Barbi stretched out on the bed and commanded, "Lick me, slut, from head to toe and back again." She pointed a gloved finger my way. "Allow your sissy tongue to so much as touch my breasts or my cock, and I'll throw you out on the street, dressed as you are, and this will all be over."

The street wasn't so much a threat, but the idea of having come so far only to fail was devastating. Not that I needed a threat to obey my Goddess, but a little extra motivation never hurt anybody.

I started with her left foot, the one I'd been sucking on the floor. Carefully lifting it in my hands, I sucked her heel deep into my mouth, then bathed the sole of her boot in kisses before licking those kisses away. Next, I licked my way up one side of her boot, bringing my face so close to the temple of her sex that I could smell it, and down the other. I then licked my way up the front of the boot, tracing the criss-crossed laces with my tongue.

With the taste of well-oiled leather still in my mouth, I let my tongue travel up the strap of her garter, and then lovingly licked and kissed the scant few inches of naked flesh between the top of her stocking and the hem of her dress. Performing my act of oral worship on her dress proved to be the most difficult step of the process. I crossed back and forth across the front of it, leaving stripes of sissy saliva behind, until I reached the top edge of her wide, black, PVC belt.

I literally had to force myself to stop, because I was so naturally drawn to the magnificence of her breasts. I wanted to bathe them in kisses, plunge my tongue into the deep valley between her mounds, and suck on her giant brown nipples until I could no longer breathe.

Instead, I turned my head aside and licked my way up the side of her dress, making sure to stay well below the swell of her breasts. Once I reached her shoulder, I took her arm in my hands and kissed my way across the naked flesh of her upper arm, and then across the leather of her gloves. She allowed me to take each finger into my mouth, one by one, and suck them like five little cocks. I then kissed my way back up to her shoulder.

There, I paused, not sure what to do next. Barbi solved that dilemma for me. "Kiss me, bitch, and let me taste that tongue."

We kissed for a good twenty minutes, sucking each other's tongues, biting each other's lips, and generally just mashing our faces together. She tasted of wine, cum, and cigarettes, but it was the sweet taste of ambrosia to me. When she finally broke off the kiss, I kissed the rest of her face, careful not to disturb her makeup, and buried my face in the overflowing blonde tresses atop her head.

Naturally, I then kissed and licked and sucked my way back down the other side of her body, doing everything I had the first time, but in reverse.

"Oh, fuck the cock thing." Alan was laying on the bed beside me, taking close-ups of my face against Barbi's flesh. "Keep it in your skirt, and you can lick me any day."

Barbi just laughed. "Nice sentiment, but she's my sissy slut." She turned her attention to me. "You've show remarkable passion and patience." She downed the rest of her wine and handed me the glass. "Bring me a glass of white this time."

When I returned with the glass, she snatched it from my hand, then grabbed me and pulled me onto the bed. "Put your head between my breasts and get ready to clean me with that talented tongue of yours."

The moment I laid my head between her breasts, Barbi began pouring white wine down the cleft between her mounds. I lapped it up as quickly as it fell, tasting the distinctive tang of her sweat mixed with the sweetness of the wine. Even when she stopped, I kept kissing and licking, luxuriating in the sensual overload. Next, she freed one breast from her top and began pouring wine over it. The moment my lips touched her nipples, and began suckling wine from her tits, I felt a tiny spurt of sissy cum flood my panties. 




Being Barbi's Bitch



It was that intense.

We continued that like that until long after the glass was empty, with me searching out every inch of flesh to make sure that I had properly worshiped it with my mouth.

"Another glass, slut." She physically threw me from the bed. "This time, make it red, and make sure the glass is full to the very top." As I began hobbling over the bar, she added, "Oh, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you not to spill a drop."

Despite her reminder, I very nearly lost the entire glass when I turned around. She had freed her magnificent cock from its panty prison, and was slowly stroking it with her hand.

Unable to concentrate on what I was doing, I nearly tripped three times in my heels, but somehow made it back to the bed with a full glass of wine. She gently pressed the top of my head as I handed her the glass. "Down," was all she had to say.

I scrambled down the bed faster than I had moved all night and pressed my mouth against her hairless balls. Looking up at her from there, seeing her beautiful face framed by those incredible breasts, with her hard cock diving the vision in two, I knew what pure and absolute surrender was. I had said it before, and meant it at the time, but now I knew that I was not becoming Barbi's bitch . . . I already was her bitch.

I watched, spellbound, as she brought the glass of red wine into my line of sight. The moment the first drop of crimson hit her cock, I darted forward and kissed it off. "Hmm, I liked that," Barbi moaned. We repeated the drop-kiss again, before she told me, "Back off for a moment and let the wine flow."

It seemed like an eternity of waiting, but she stopped with half a glass remaining and commanded me to lick her cock clean. She didn't need to tell me twice. I started at the base of her cock, licking and sucking at the tight, smooth flesh. Next, I licked my way up her shaft -- and, with eight erect inches, that was a lot of licking -- loving every minute of it. When I reached the top, I pressed my lips against her soft, spongy head and sucked as hard as I could. Still sucking, I forced my head down, taking inch after inch of Barbi's cock into mouth.

I was nothing like I had ever imagined. It was so much better. Just the feel of that hard cock filling my mouth, with the texture of the flesh that was hers and hers alone was absolute heaven. It was my first real cock -- experimenting with the semi-flaccid clits of a few sissy friends certainly didn't count -- and I knew in that moment it would not be my last.

My mouth made love to her cock long after the wine was gone, taking it deep, and worshiping it all. When Barbi pulled my face away, I almost wanted to cry at having being so cruelly denied. This time, as she poured the rest of the wine over her cock, she told me, "Get ready, bitch, because this time you're going to earn it."

Once again, I clamped my mouth around her cock the moment the wine stopped flowing. This time, though, she threw the glass away, grabbed my face in her hands, and thrust her cock into my mouth. I gagged and wretched as her cockhead slipped into my throat, but she held me there until I was able to relax and adjust. After that, she fucked my face hard and fast, crushing my nose against her groin, and nearly bruising my chin with the bouncing of her balls.

I reached up to play with her balls, but she slapped my hands away. "You are not to touch until told."

Properly chastised, I dropped my hands to my side and just let her use me. My face was her fuck-toy, and I existed only to ensure that the seal was tight, the throat was deep, and the tongue never stopped caressing that incredible shaft of flesh.

She suddenly let go of my head. "Quickly. Open your mouth."

I did as I was told, and was rewarded with a jet of hot cum. She spurted so hard, so strong, that I felt a stinging sensation against the top of my mouth. It was the most glorious thing I had ever tasted, so completely different from my own cum. I was sweet and nutty, with a bitter edge that was softened by another taste I couldn't place.

Barbi hand a tight grip on her cock, squeezing the head with her gloved fingers. I could see her physically shaking as she aimed that magnificent monster, then let go her fingers and branded my face with a line of cum from my left eye to the right side of my chin. She squeezed and aimed again, then completed the sloppy 'X' with a stream of shemale semen stretching from the left side of my chin to my right eye.

Her control was incredible!

After the 'X' was done, she pulled back, leaving a good foot of space between us, and released her cockhead for the last time. The spurt wasn't quite as strong as the first one, but it still managed to cross the distance and land against the back of my tongue. With that, she shoved the cockhead just inside my mouth and let me nurse the rest of the seed from her slit. At that moment, I never wanted to eat or drink anything else for the rest of my life, because I knew even the finest wines and pastries could never possibly compare to the hot, white, nourishment still slowly tricking down my throat.

The taste was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I was instantly addicted, and all I wanted was more.

"Good job, my sweet little bitch." Barbi pulled me up from her cock, even as she sat up before me. Smelling strongly of sweat and perfume, she slurped the cummy 'X' from my face and then kissed me hard. We swapped her cum back and forth in a series of passionate kisses, until there was finally nothing left but our saliva.

"I need a quick break," she told Alan, "but I'd like you to take Heathyr out onto the balcony for some slutty, just got face-fucked, photos with the city lights in the background."

We were only outside for a few minutes, but long enough to enjoy the catcalls and jeers of the men on the rooftop patio across the street. Feeling bold and daring, I actually leaned over the railing at one point and flashed them a pierced nipple. Alan laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, then pulled me back inside when it was time to swap out camera batteries.

Back inside I found Barbi waiting for me, her cock dangling semi-hard between her legs. "Take this," she handed me a small plastic tube, "and work it into your ass while you suck my cock." This was it. This was the moment I was waiting for. I was terrified, but I was also extremely aroused. I was more than a little drunk too, but as much as it helped with the pain of my newly pierced breasts, I didn't think it had any impact on my desire . . . my need to please her.

Barbi guided me over to the bed and had me lay down on my back. She pressed the head of her cock against my ass and told me to beg for it.

"Please fuck your sissy bitch, Goddess. I want to feel you inside of me. I need to have your cock fill me." I thrust my ass up and wiggled it against your cock. "I am your bitch, and my ass is yours. I beg of you, Goddess, destroy me with your tool and claim my worthless gift for yourself."

It sounded corny, but it was also sincere.

"That's too bad." She pulled her cock away from my ass, leaving a cold void where her hot, swollen, cockhead had been just a moment before. "You don't sound convincing. You must not want it badly enough."

Before I could utter a single cry of sissy protest, she rammed her cock into my ass. I cried out from the pain. If I hadn't already be desensitized by the piercing of my nipples, the pain of her cock so brutally piercing my ass would surely had rendered me unconscious. 

At the same time, beneath the pain was a feeling of fullness. Knowing what I had just taken inside me, seeing the look of blissful triumph on her face, and knowing that my sissy ass had put it there, was just heavenly.

With half her cock buried in my ass, Barbi began fucking me with short, slow, shallow strokes. She was holding my legs in her hands, forcing me wide, even as she leaned into me. I could feel every movement inside me, but the pain was already giving way to a strange kind of numbness. Regardless, with the shock of the moment passed, I remember why I was there and began pleasuring my Goddess.

I moaned like a bitch in heat and forced myself to press back against her cock. In response, she began to make her strokes longer and faster, almost withdrawing her head from my hole. Despite the pain, I knew I couldn't let her leave, so I pushed back again and squeezed my asshole around the shaft.

"Very good, my bitch. You're learning."

By that point, the numbness had given way to a warm tingling sensation. I was starting to enjoy not just the idea of what we were doing, but the act itself. 

"Please, Barbi, give it all to me. Drive that hard cock as deep into my ass as you can and fuck me until I can't walk." I was wiggling and squeezing and pressing my ass against her in time with her strokes. "Take me, Goddess, break me, make me the best fuck toy you've ever had."

Without breaking away, she used my legs to flip me over onto my stomach. She pulled my ass into the air, pushed away my attempt to support myself with my arms, and forced my face into the sweaty, wine-and-cum stained sheets.

Only then did she begin to properly plough her sissy bitch. Even though I'd already taken half of her cock, taking the rest was ten times more painful, and a hundred times more rewarding. Her shemale tool was deeper inside my body than anything had ever been before, and I was loving it. The longer she fucked me, the more I wanted.

The room was filled with the smells and sounds of sex. I was moaning like a good sissy, while Barbi was hissing and groaning against me. Alan was still circling us with his camera, and even he looked a bit flushed.

After a while, Barbi pulled me back so that I was actually standing on the floor, but still had my head pressed into the mattress. That gave her a whole new angle to fuck, and I could feel how much we were both enjoying it. The pain and the fear were gone, leaving only pure, unadulterated pleasure. I never knew having anything in my ass could feel good, much less this good, and I never wanted her to stop.

A few minutes later, I was completely amazed myself by cumming all over the bed. My cock was hard, but dangling and bobbing in the air above the mattress. Nothing had touched it, but it was coming harder, and feeling more indescribably pleasurable, than any orgasm I'd had before.

"Oh, yes." Barbi grabbed my hips and began fucking me even harder. "That's my sissy, that's my bitch." She was riding me hard, and using every ounce of leverage to get deeper inside me. "I can count the number of sluts on one hand who have managed a successful sissy cunt orgasm." My goddess leaned over and nibbled at my ear. "Barbi's proud of her little bitch."

She pulled us further way from the bed, until my face was sliding in the pool of hot cum I'd deposited moments before. Without having to be told, I began cleaning up my mess, greedily slurping the cum from the sheets.

I was just swallowing the last drop -- it tasted soooo much better than it ever had on those occasions when I'd tried forcing myself to taste it at home -- when she screamed and erupted inside my ass. Even though she'd already cum once in my mouth, the torrent she unleashed inside my ass was double what I'd swallowed earlier. She came so hard and for so long, I could feel it dribbling out of my ass and running down my legs.

Then, just when I thought we were done, she ripped her softening cock from my ass and clamped her mouth to the hole. She sucked out my anal creampie, sticking her tongue deep inside me, until her mouth was full of spent cum. She then, of course, snowballed me with it, once again kissing and swapping sperm until we drained each other's mouths dry.

The moment she broke away from our kiss, I spun around, dropped to my knees, and worshiped her cock clean with my tongue.

"Wow." I was startled by the voice, having forgotten that Alan was still in the room with us. "I think this bitch is a keeper, Barbi." He laughed. "I really think you need to get her a sissy tattoo that won't wash off, though."

Barbi and I both looked back to see my glitter-pen tattoo smeared across my back.

"Well, we do have all week," she reminded me. "In the meantime . . ."

Spent and confused, I could only watch as she walked unsteadily across the room to snatch up the small canvas bag that my piercings had come out of. Bringing it back to me, she reached inside and pulled out a pink leather choker.

"Do you like?" She held it before my eyes, showing the words 'Barbi's Bitch' branded into the leather. "Now, this is to be riveted on," she showed me the gun, "and never to be removed." She placed it against my throat for a moment, then took it away.

I don't remember the words, but I'm sure I made an absolute idiot of myself begging her for the privilege of wearing her collar. I know there were real tears in my eyes and butterflies in my stomach, but I had never wanted something so badly in all my life. Fuck family. To hell with work. Gawking strangers could kiss my ass. I wanted that collar and all that it signified like the greediest gold-digger wanted that diamond-studded engagement ring.

As she popped the three rivets through the back of the collar, she told me I was such a good bitch and such a good present that she was almost sorry about retiring. She told me she felt bad for taking advantage and maxing out my credit card, but the sale of our photos and videos should generate enough interest for her to sell my trademark to one the high-end sissy porn sites I'd naively suggested she partner with instead of retiring.

I experience a brief moment of panic at the news, even though I knew she was probably kidding. That fear was absolutely undone by the feeling of the collar being fastened about my neck. By the time she was done, and let the warm pink leather find its natural place around my throat, I found myself wondering and almost wishing she wasn't kidding.

As I found a few days later, she wasn't.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

At the end of the week, I reluctantly dropped Barbi off back at her house. She left me with enough memories to last a lifetime, two suitcases of sexy outfits we'd gone out and purchased after returning the others to the strippers, and a third suitcase full of sex toys (some of which I still didn't know the purpose of).

We'd switched hotels three times during the week, dragging along Alan at every step. At one point, during an outdoor shoot in the park, we'd been chased by a gang of homophobic thugs who quickly turned angry when they realised the two hot chicks making out on the playground really weren't chicks. Other than that, everything went remarkably well. 

Once all was said and done, Barbi insisted I drive home looking my sissy best, and even took me shopping at a high-end department store on our last night in the city to pick up something sexy enough to be worthy of her bitch, but still acceptable for daytime wear amid the prudes of Pennsylvania.

Not only were we welcomed and accommodated, the salesgirl came along to play for an evening. For somebody so cute and innocent looking, she ended up suggesting things that even had Barbi blushing. Not that that stopped us from trying out each and every one, of course.

Maybe it was the Canadian license plates, or maybe it was just the fact that I was the only driver on the road, but I picked up another sheriff's escort on my drive home. I was in far too good of a mood to worry about it, and just took my time, giving him no reason in the world to pull me over.

Until he flashed his sirens and did just that.

"Good afternoon, ma'am." He stared down at me from behind his sunglasses. "Do you know why I pulled you over?"

In my best, soft sissy voice, I told him I didn't.

"You didn't slow for that caution light back there."

I looked behind me to confirm that there was, in fact, no caution light to slow down for.

Before I could say it, he shrugged his shoulders in apology. "I'm afraid the light blew down in last week's storm, but the traffic violation is still in order." He began flipping through his ticket book, which he held right next to the bulge in his pants. As worried as I was about the situation, I couldn't help but notice.

"I'm afraid this is a 'failure to obey' citation, which carries a fine that must be paid on the spot."

The idea of a 'failure to obey' citation sent a thrill through my newly sexed body. Even though I'd already paid the same ticket back home last year, the terminology was undeniably erotic to a submissive sissy slut who'd just spend a week being her shemale Goddess' bitch.

The officer leaned in through my window, smelling of sweat, coffee, and Old Spice deodorant. "Now," he said, "I, for one, think it's far too fine day to waste on paperwork." He put the ticket book back in his pocket and adjusted his package. "What do you say, Miss Heathyr? Can we come to an alternate arrangement?"

It took me a moment to realise he called me Heathyr. When that fact finally dawned upon me, I smiled and nervously licked my lips.

As I reach out for his zipper, I promised him that I would never 'fail to obey' ever again.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

END

This story is dedicated, with complete awe and utter fawning submission, to Barbi Satin. She is, without a doubt, one of the most amazingly sexual, deliciously erotic, and wonderfully perverse women in the entire transgender community. While I have been fortunate to count her among my t-friends over the years, this story is far more fantasy than reality . . . although there's just enough truth contained within to make my heart race every time I read it. I hope you enjoyed it and, as always, I would love to hear from you all!



Being Better



The moans of a mad man. That's what Josh said it sounded like. He wasn't meant to have heard it at all; not a sound. However, to my embarrassment and utter dismay, the walls had betrayed me and sold the sounds of our intimacy to the nearest bidder. 

Josh had not wanted to hear us, of course not. He looked at me with his usual soft complexion and admitted that our love making was unavoidably audible to the party goers. I couldn't speak of the horror myself, yet as my only friend, Josh found ways to laugh about it and poke fun. 

"He really is a little bitch." Tom said as matter of factly as he could, which was strangely out of character I thought. Gentle Tom, the kind hearted and loyal man I had thought him to be, saying 'bitch.' 

"Okay, I know you don't like Nelson, but at least say things that are true," I implored. After all, I didn't see Nelson as being weak or anything of the sort! He was a professional man; indeed he wasn't a little bitch. 

Tom rolled his eyes and shook his head, "you have no idea Jenny, so tucked away in your own version of things that you just don't know what's actually going on." He pointed at me, perhaps a little too hard, because he poked me in the collar bone- and it hurt. 

"Are you angry at me?" I asked in a tentative voice, worried I had somehow upset him. 

"No," he smiled and looked at me softly, "I just can't believe you're dating such a little bitch." He simpered, adding; "you deserve so much more than Nelson." 

~ 

Nelson sat on his leather TV-watching chair, so far, so distant from me. I looked over at him and wondered how to grab his attention the best. A list of possibilities ran through my mind; a mischievous text message, a suggestive outfit, or perhaps... if I could just say the right words, he would break free from his sport watching marathon. 

He noticed my staring and spoke up, "what's wrong? Come on out with it. You're doing the sulking thing again," he raised his eyebrows expectantly. I knew from past events that not providing an excuse for my facial expression, would end in his frustration, so I had to think on my feet- 

"I'm just uhm, w-wondering what you're thinking about." I paused knowing that was a stupid answer, right away he seemed annoyed that I had somehow found a reason to make an ordinary moment- all about my feelings of anxiety. I knew I did this often, and I tried desperately to avoid doing so, "I meant in regards to the game," I added. 

"It's okay, you can tell me what's wrong. I'm not angry with you, if that's what you are worrying about." He looked back at the TV and huffed. I wasn't sure if that was an indication that I should keep talking, or not, so I sat there in silence. 

When the game finished he turned off the TV and looked my way with tired droopy eyes. I knew it had been a long day at work for him, and I felt conflicted about wanting affection, and then wanting to please him by leaving him to rest. He began to mutter, "Well if you aren't going to tell me what's wrong, do you want to just go to bed?" 

I curled up inside myself and thought about how I could meet both our needs. How does a person allow someone to rest while receiving affectionate attention at the same time? "Can I just have one minute of affection from you before we go to bed?" I asked as innocently as I could muster. 

"Of course," he stretched his arms out to me and patted me on the back for a moment. The familiar buzzing of his phone went off though, and the minute cut short as he took a phone call from his co-workers. 

~ 

That night I lay resting next to a man while tossing and turning in unease. The usually warm embrace of Nelson left me feeling empty and unsatisfied. Somehow a woman of 24 had out-libidoed a man in his even earlier 20s and I just didn't understand. Perhaps all the clichés of men wanting sex all the time was just wrong? 

Nelson often reminded me that we still made love regularly; he would moan that it was hard to work a job and have sex every night. I agreed with him about the issue. I was a greedy woman to want him to spend hours pleasing me every night, and I thought I deserved only what I received. So with that thought I turned over and snuggled into him, closing my eyes tightly and hoping that my feelings of unsatisfied arousal would dissipate into nothingness. 

~ 

My brain was working on overdrive that morning: breakfast, brush teeth, shower, and dress, do dishes, make daily schedule and hope everything ran smoothly. Tom had sent word that he would be visiting that afternoon and I wanted everything to be completed before he arrived. His text message was a welcome break from my lonely existence. I felt I needed as much. 

When Nelson woke up he stumbled out of our bedroom in his day robe and he sat at the table stating only one word- "coffee". I made him a cup of his favourite brand and handed it over while sitting next to him hopefully. Nelson looked up at me with worn eyes; "How are you feeling today?" He asked with what I thought was concern. 

"Pretty good," I said weakly, despite my lack of sleep and feelings of what could only be described as depression. 

"Good, keep it that way." He joked with that, yet something about it felt unsystematic. Of course, that feeling was just little ol' me... overanalysing the statement, giving power to the 'crippling paranoia issues' I'd always been led by. 

"I'm seeing Tom later today, did you want to come with me?" Nelson looked across at me with his narrowest expression and I knew his answer before I had been told. 

"Sweetheart, you know I don't like him. He's pretentious and not to mention you haven't even known him long enough to be sure he's a keeper as your friend. Where did you meet him again? A book store or a library of something? Anyone in this day and age with the time to stroll around book shops all day just isn't proving their worth to the economy." 

And that was Nelson's last words on the matter. In fact, those were his last words that morning, for he got dressed in silence, and walked out the door shortly afterwards. I slumped over the kitchen table near his empty cup of coffee and pondered the dilemma. Was it okay for them to dislike each other and still be part of my life? Or did I have to let one of them go? 

The doorbell rang. 

"Coming!" I shouted and walked over to the front of the house wondering who on earth would be visiting first thing in the morning. I turned the browning door handle of Nelson's flat and peeked outside. "Hello?" 

"Hi I'm Sherry," a lady reached out her hand for me to shake, and I did so very timidly. I felt completely embarrassed to be speaking to a woman in a fancy blue business dress, while I stood in overalls, and a plain yellow shirt. 

"Hi Sherry," I stumbled over what to say, "sorry I wasn't expecting anyone t-to be here this early in the morning, not that that's a problem or anything, really because I always say to welcome company but, you know how company isn't always welcoming? S-Sometimes..." I frowned in knowing that my nervous social speak was completely ridiculous, however I had not anticipated a social interaction so I supposed my off guard manner was to be expected, right? 

"Yes, yes he did mention what you would be like. May I come in?" She stepped inside before I could reply and walked down the hall, "now personally I have never seen the inside of this little flat, isn't it adorable?" 

This fiery brunette with tightly drawn back hair was staring at me and waiting for some kind of response, however I could not understand what was actually happening. I squinted at her as if that would give me some form of clarity; however it just made her look blurry. 

"You are Jenny, aren't you?" Sherry looked concerned. 

"Well, yes that's me, but I still don't quite know who you are? I mean, I know you told me your name, but I'm not sure how you know me." I cuddled my arms around myself and looked across at the intimidating woman before me. 

"Well I'm an associate agent of Mr Braint, or rather, you would call him Nelson. I was hired by him to help him to make a name of himself, to help straighten out the knots in his exterior if you will." She reached into her little leather purse and handed me her personal business card. It looked authentic, and stylish enough to be envied by other business professionals, I thought. 

"But why does Nelson need an agent? He didn't mention..." 

"Yes well, as he and I discussed it was just easier to let me deal with you." She lead me over to Nelson's kitchen table as if it were her own, like she had owned everything in that little flat, including me. As we sat I felt a million butterflies jumping from my stomach right up my throat, as if I could open my mouth and a swarm of them would fly out and devour me on the spot. 

"Nelson discussed me with you?" I exhaled and no swarm did erupt. 

"Yes of course! You are his little house mate and he very much needed you to be recognised as part of this new career development," she smiled with her professional finesse. I then realised what this was about- I was being made a part of his professional career as his public partner, a part of his image! He was including me in his most important part of life, and I would be acknowledged by all his co-workers as a result! 

I began to ramble in excited tones; "Nelson is a very professional and successful man, I guess just I didn't realise he was taking such a serious stance on his career." Anxiety bubbled at my surface, "I can't believe I hadn't even noticed how serious he was, I really should have, what with all the hours he works, and all the time he spends talking of it. But I didn't realise that health inspection officers were so... Like you can get an agent for being in that field?" 

"Yes," she tapped her nails across the table as if waiting for me to stop speaking. I covered my mouth and apologised, "yes well, he is planning on becoming a published novelist in businesses and health criteria." 

"Oh wow, that's so exciting. He's going to be so happy, to be so successful, that's- that's all he ever has wanted." I flushed with joy for him. 

"Precisely," the woman continued, "this is all he has ever wanted and that is why I've had to assess your standing with him." 

"I'll do anything I can," I opened up to her, "I'll stand any way he needs, 100% support, and I'll, I'll change my wardrobe and even never leave the house without at least a little makeup or... A lot of makeup if that's better and"- 

"Actually," Sherry put up her hand and cut through my ramblings of glee like it pleased her to do so, "we were thinking it would be best if you moved." 

I stopped and regarded her for a moment. I blinked and looked around. "Yes, of course," I began with a little hesitation, "like, this is our first place together, so it's been really a sentimental space for me, but I can see how we would have to move. Like how will anyone take him seriously if he doesn't live in an actual house? A big house, right? Like business family men live in?" 

She gave me a dumbfounded look, just for a split second, and then regained her posture. "No, Nelson won't have his address made public darling. He won't have the kind of income to buy a house for at least a year." She stood up from the kitchen table, her chair screeching across the tiles as if the house were screaming in angst. "What Nelson needs is for you to move out- just you." 

~ 

When Sherry left, I felt broken. Had Nelson seriously just hired an agent to break up with me? Where was I going to go? Hadn't he loved me and wanted me? Did I not please him? Broken fragments of these questions darted through my mind as if to stretch the boundaries of my reality but failing to do so... 

I packed a bag of items I knew to be mine and stood in the hallway of my home, which was no longer mine at all. I was being evicted by my own boyfriend, who was also; no longer mine at all. I sobbed for myself and crouched down against the greying carpet of Nelson's flat. At least, I thought, the sobs I emitted were still my own. 

I didn't see Tom that afternoon. I suppose I felt ashamed by it all, so I just hired a room at some old motel and cried until I fell asleep. The room smelt musky and the blankets were tattered like hell, but it was all I could afford. This was it. 

And who was I anyway? Just some ordinary girl- with anxiety issues that crippled everything, a sexual drive that left men tired of their efforts and not even enough intelligence to discern a business meeting from a breakup. Heck, I didn't even have a 'career' of my own. 

I thought my phone was buzzing lightly from the end of my bed. However, it was hidden under old blankets and piles of scrunched up tissues and I, I just couldn't deal with it. No one was going to help me from drowning out the sounds of reality because I didn't want to hear it. That was all there was to it. 

"Open the door Jenny," I heard a familiar voice, "I know you're in there." I shot up in a sitting position, my hair a wild mess and my face all blotchy. I thought perhaps if I was terribly silent he would go away. 

"Jenny?" He insisted, "Open this door before I ring for an ambulance under suspicion of a suicide attempt. You have three seconds to do as you're told." 

"One..." 

"Two." 

I raced to the door and stopped at the handle. "Wait, wait, please don't do that." I cradled the inside of the door holding myself upright against it while I continued to sob. 

"Jenny," I could tell now that it was Tom, "Jenny... I am not leaving until you let me in and let me..." he sighed as if finding it hard to make the words. 

"How did you find me?" I mumbled through the door. 

"How did I find you? I bumped into Nelson, that's how. Then I made him tell me where you would go. And then I went to your favourite restaurant like he suggested, but realised what a stupid suggestion that was. Because who in their right mind wants to eat lobster after their heart has been broken, right? So I thought of where I would go..." 

"And you would go to a cheap motel to cry?" I found the thought humorous among the tears. 

"No, I would go to the gym and box it out because I'm too manly," he joked, "Please let me come in." 

I opened the door and looked down to the floor, ensuring my face was covered by the strands of my blonde hair, hoping he wouldn't notice how terrible I looked. He came inside and shut the door. Tom seemed to have this way of making me feel vulnerable yet safe. Something he was doing right in that moment. Yet I wasn't in the mood to feel vulnerable! Not when it meant I would hurt 

"You," he began, grasping each of my arms with his warm hands, and leading me towards an old wooden chair, "you don't need him." He sat me down. I tried to open my mouth in protest but all that came out was some strange sobbing sound that I didn't even recognise as my own. So he continued- 

"Jenny, listen to me," Tom crouched down to level with my face, "he was a coward, an ugly, selfish, self-involved scum-bag who didn't treat you right." I could see it in his eyes that he believed what he was saying to me. Yet I couldn't shake this feeling of loss and sadness. Nelson was my person, he had been the one and only in my life for the last 3 years, and before him I couldn't even remember. 

"No," I shook my head stubbornly, "you don't know how he treated me at all. You only met him one time. He was really good to me. He gave me a place to live and protected me." I brushed away the tears rolling down my cheeks and looked at Tom with convictions I knew stemmed only from crippling fear. If Nelson had never truly loved me... 

"I met him once that's true. At a party where he practically made it impossible for me or anyone else to interact with you. Every time I asked you a question he spoke for you. Every time I came near you, he would send you away to gather food or to clean some new mess." 

Tom's version of the party was much different to what I had remembered. Yet it wasn't entirely untrue. I frowned trying to think of how to argue the point with him, "He just wanted to make sure everyone had drinks. That's thoughtful right? And I had asked him to get to know you, so he was making an effort to speak with you." 

"It wasn't just me, everyone at that party who was there to see you, didn't see you." Tom saw the conflicted look I carried and stood up to walk around the room. 

"Look I get it; you're a grown woman making her own choices and opinions of those around her. Nelson was, to you, a love who you just lost. I know I can't change your feelings just by calling him a little bitch... even if that's the truth of it." 

Tom picked up the motel's rubbish bin and began throwing all the used up tissues away. I told him he didn't have to do that, I was fine to clean up after myself! Yet he insisted. 

"I'm cleaning up because you are about to get dressed and sign out of this place," he put down the bin and straightened out the blankets, "so go into the bathroom and wash your face." 

I looked at him, this man walking around my motel room and cleaning about; was he going to take me back to Nelson? Was he going to convince Nelson not to leave me? I blinked back some tears, but I didn't ask him any questions. The silent hope was all I wanted. It was something to cling to. 

I stood up and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me with shaking hands. The mirror was a sight to be seen. My face was discoloured and red, my hair a tangled mess, and my overalls were... Well they were still nothing compared to that woman in her business dress. I couldn't forget her. The way she spoke with self-assured confidence. Her hair tightly woven, not a single strand out of place, and that sharp red lipstick. There was nothing about her that was anything like me. 

I turned on the tap and adjusted the temperature until it was lukewarm. My hands quivered underneath its running surface, however, to do as I was told- I cleaned my face, splashed the water over my cheeks, and the towelled it dry. 

When I left the bathroom, Tom had cleaned the entire motel, and even had chosen some clothes from my bag for me. They were laid out neatly upon the bed and he was standing with honest patience. 

"I always liked it when you wore this dress," he smiled at me, "it was the first one I ever saw you wear, and caught me off guard a little. Nose deep in a book about mystery and suspense, when you asked me why there weren't any books explaining the concept of appropriate cleavage." 

Tom went on, "see, at first I thought you were making a sarcastic remark about the large woman at the other end of the isle, because her breasts were almost falling out of the sides of her top, but then I realised you hadn't spoken to me at all. In fact, you were muttering to yourself while actually looking for a book on how much cleavage is appropriate for a woman." 

I looked shyly at Tom's retelling of the moment we met, but I had not known how he had been watching me before he had actually introduced himself. I flushed a light pink at the thought of him noticing my public ramblings, and said, "I didn't know you had heard all of that." 

"I thought it was delightfully refreshing," he smiled and turned his back to me, "now get dressed." 

~ 

Tom had helped me sign out but still I had not asked where he was taking me. I feared that the answer would not be to make everything better with Nelson. Occasionally I glanced out the window to see if it was in the direction of Nelson's flat, but I did not recognise any of my surroundings. 

Eventually I caved, "where are you taking me?" I asked in a faint voice. 

"You're going to stay with me for a while," Tom looked across at me curiously, "unless you prefer the motel so badly, but I don't like the idea of you being alone in that place." 




Being Better



"I don't want to be a burden on you though, what if..." I struggled back some tears, "what if Nelson broke up with me because I'm not pleasant to live with? What if I leave a mess or break something valuable?" 

"I'm not Nelson," he shrugged, "I enjoy a little mess, and I like fixing broken things." 

My heart had been beating fast, and then at the tone of his reassuring voice I felt it ease. Tom always knew how to calm me down with a few mere words. I relaxed back into the seat, closing my eyes and hoping that soon, the pain in my chest would go away too. 

We pulled up out the front of a nicely kept home. It was moderate in size and the garden was neat and green. It looked like a family home, but I knew already that Tom lived alone. 

When we were finally inside, and Tom had placed my bag down by the couch, I stood awkwardly uncertain of what to do. I had never been to visit with Tom; he had always met me for coffee or by the book shop. Actually, he always seemed to be at the book shop; Nelson would say he was wasting time when he should be looking for employment. 

I felt Tom's eyes upon me, he soothed; "you can sit down, I'm not going to yell at you, make yourself comfortable." I did so and looked up at him. 

"I'm sorry I'm such a mess right now," I buried my hands in my face. Nothing about this was how I had expected my day to go. 

Tom came over to me and said, "Do you have a hair brush in your bag?" I quickly reached up to feel my hair- to see if I could tell how ugly it was- but Tom gently guided my hands back down, "you look fine, I just want to help you settle down. Relax." 

I swallowed down on his words and reached into my bag. When I found the brush I handed it to him, he turned me around and started to brush my hair gently. Tom asked me to close my eyes and focus on my breathing, which seemed weird but I did it anyway. 

"Just focus on your breath and the sensation of the brush," I felt like a rock of anxiety that was beginning to levitate. Weightlessness falling upon me he continued; "Now think about your toes, your feet, and relaxing them. Think about that sensation growing and moving throughout your body." 

The brush had soft buds on the bristles that smoothly ran through my hair and down my back. It was comforting and soon began to make my skin tingle with the tender rhythm of his strokes. I breathed in and out to the sound of his voice until a shiver ran down my spine. 

"That's better..." He cooed, and replaced his brush strokes with his hands massaging deep into my shoulders, "now just feel all the tension lifting from your body..." 

It was strange how his language seemed to resonate with my subconscious in a way that made me respond to his every word. Soon he moved back and guided my head to rest against his lap. He caressed my forehead, running his fingers through my hair, and soon I fell asleep. 

When eventually I woke later that night I found myself lying alone on Tom's couch, a blanket atop of me and soft cushion underneath my head. I looked about but Tom was not to be seen. However, a little card had been placed on the coffee table nearby. It read: 

Jenny,  

I have had to pop into the book shop to assist the staff in a delivery problem. Back in as soon as it's resolved; please help yourself to anything you may require.  

Thomas.  

After reading the letter I realised how thirsty I had become. I stood up and made my way to Tom's kitchen. It was immaculate. The furnishings, the silver wear, and dining room set, everything was only the finest I'd ever seen. 

I had gotten myself a glass of water and felt overcome with curiosity. It was clear to me now that Tom was not jobless and a wonderer of book stores. No, he worked at the book store, and possibly even managed it. That made sense because he was such a responsible and in control kind of guy, I never really thought of him as jobless. Yet we had never discussed careers together; he had never told me and I had never asked. 

I looked around at his kitchen again and wondered, how much did I even know about Tom? He was always asking questions about me, and being my usual neglectful self, I suppose I had never bothered to return the kindness. So I walked through his house until I found his bedroom, as if this room would tell me everything I needed to know about the man, as if it would make up for my lack of conversational interest. 

I paused at the doorway and thought... this was wrong. I really was a bad person, snooping about his home as if he didn't have the basic rights to privacy that all people should have. I exhaled with shame and turned into- 

"Tom!" I had turned to stare face to face with him, his dark eyes leering down upon my head. 

"You, young lady, should not go snooping," he looked angry. Then seeing my expression of horror he grinned and leaned forward to open his bedroom door, "Go on. It's just an ordinary bedroom with ordinary things; nothing sinister for naughty little fingers to go prying into." 

I peeked inside despite the shame I felt for being caught. 

"I'm sorry I was looking about Tom, really I am, I hadn't gone inside though, and I had decided not to go in just before- I promise." I looked up at him with worried eyes and noticed something different about his gaze. While his deep eyes had always been warm to me, there was something more behind them in this moment, as though he could look further into my mind and see things I could not. 

"Well look at you; all scared that I'm going to be angry with you for something silly like this," he touched my chin affectionately and smirked, "quite amusing." 

I felt suddenly unable to speak, as though he had used some kind of magic formula of phrasing to paralyse me into a heated fuzzy place. My cheeks flushed and I could feel this warm sensation growing throughout the core of my body. Tom cleared his throat and took a step backwards, and then placing his hands behind himself, he calmly nodded for me to walk along into the hallway. 

~ 

As night bore down on us I grew hungry. Tom demanded that it was only appropriate for him to make me dinner, and I wasn't to argue because we both knew I couldn't cook. I looked at my mobile phone for a second and wondered what Nelson might be doing. Usually by this time he was eating the food I had either ordered or re-heated for him, but without me I wasn't sure if he would be off schedule or not. 

I believed in my heart that Nelson was just realising what a flawed person I was for the first time, and that perhaps if I worked extra hard to be better, he might take me back. So once Tom had called me out into the kitchen to sit and eat his meal, I thought I could ask for his advice on the matter. 

"You're joking right?" He looked angry, for real this time. 

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have brought it up." I felt stupid for dragging Tom into my problems, as if my being here- and taking up his space- wasn't bad enough! 

"No, hold on. You can talk to me about anything;" he chewed on his homemade pasta thoughtfully, "But Nelson doesn't appreciate you, because he's an idiot, not because you are fundamentally flawed." 

"I don't know, he's always been very smart, a professional business man," I countered, "He has a business degree and is always telling me new things I didn't know before." 

"He has a business degree," Tom repeated factually, "That may be true, but I own several businesses across the city. Plus I didn't need to hire a snooty little agent in order to tell me how to do it." 

We sat in silence for a moment; my heart feeling sunken and sore. I couldn't enjoy the delicious food before me, and I couldn't argue Tom's point either. "You own the book store?" 

"Several of them, yes." He admitted, "But neither that nor any degree in any field should be a measure of intelligence. Intelligence is more than something that you own or that is written on a piece of paper." Tom spoke softly, as if he was breaking some kind of harsh news to me, "but you still don't believe me, do you?" 

"I'm sorry, I"- 

"Don't be sorry," he cut me off, "because in a sense you are right. You aren't perfect, you have flaws and like all flaws they need to be acknowledged and tended to. However, Nelson is not a God, and he does not have the right to judge your flaws when his own are far worse." 

"Is this because of how he acted at the party with you?" I began, "I already explained that he was only doing that because I'd asked him to try and get to know you, Tom..." 

"And what of how he treated you after that?" Tom asked. 

"Like after the party?" 

"Like," he began by mimicking my use of the word, "how he took you away to his room. How he treated you in there." 

I felt not just a light flush, but certainly a hot flush of complete embarrassment drowning out the white in my cheeks with a bloody red. I tried to hide the blush by looking toward the floor, but truly that wasn't going to be enough to hide the humiliation. I opened my mouth and closed it again. 

"Let's play a game where I ask you a series of questions about that night," Tom stated. 

"Please, I hated how that night played out. Really I do." 

"I'm not trying to upset you Jenny, but you need a new perspective here." He reached out and held my hand, "Tell me what Nelson said right before he took you to the bedroom, we both know what it was, but I want to hear you confess." 

"He... he said; 'speaking of which.'" I mumbled shyly. 

"Speaking of what? Give it the context Jenny." When I didn't speak he leaned over the table and continued, "I said that he must be very pleased by you, how you had gone to so much trouble to lay out the party and how you had clearly exceeded in meeting his every need." 

Tom squeezed my hand and continued, "Then he said, 'speaking of which,' and called you over like some canine- as though it were a spectacle to be seen! Then you left the party with him and"- 

"I know what happened!" I said loudly; ready to beg him to stop. 

"Okay good, I was worried you had forgotten," he straightened up in his chair and asked, "Did he touch you?" 

"What?" I looked at him, shocked he had asked such a question, as he placed another spoonful into his mouth, "You know what we did in there Tom, please, you've already made that much clear." 

"I'm not a playing game here, it's a legitimate question, and I can only know as much as I've overheard. Did he ever touch you, or," he put up a finger as if to make it point, "Or did he just have his way with you?" 

"What do you mean?" I felt confused. 

"Did you get any kind of gratification from the events that unfolded Jenny, it's not a complicated question," Tom pushed. I had given up all hope of eating his food by this point, I felt uneasy and nervous, and this entire conversation was so personal to me. 

"He didn't leave me," I said shortly. Tom exhaled as though I had given the wrong answer. 

"Okay, so in the three minutes the two of you were gone, I heard Nelson huffing and panting and groaning and I'm expected to believe you climaxed? Somehow you orgasmed, in utter silence, to the slow rhythm of the bed thumping against the wall?" 

"It isn't always like that," I insisted, "He was tired from work, you know how it is, and I'm a quiet girl." 

Tom was finishing his meal, the same meal I had barely touched. It was clear that he didn't believe me, but what was I supposed to do? I looked at him tentatively and he looked back at me thoughtfully, weighing up everything I said and then poked his food with his fork. 

"I don't believe you," was his final resolve, "But, I will help you if that's what you want me to do." 

"You will?" I looked over to him with surprise. 

"Yes, of course." 

~ 

I spent that night writing out an apology message to Nelson. Tom helped me by proof reading it, and telling me how to word things, so that I wasn't pressuring Nelson into taking me back. I was so grateful to Tom that I thanked him until the words didn't sound like words anymore. An hour and a half later we had the final draft and I sent it off with horrible feelings of anxiety. 

The next issue at hand was in making myself a better person. I had made promises in the email letter to Nelson that I would be better for him, and make a real effort to please him more often. Tom said that I shouldn't word it that way, that Nelson would think I was trying to offer sexual favours if he took me back, so I had written it as "make him happier" rather than to "please him". 

I confessed to Tom that my main struggle was in always feeling anxious and worried about being displeasing. I wanted too much from Nelson when he needed personal time. I also asked too many questions when I should just be quiet, or smarter. Tom looked at me strangely what I said this, then exhaled and offered, "Jenny, there is nothing wrong with asking questions when you don't know something." 

"But I talk too much!" I insisted. 

"But I thought you said you were a quiet girl," Tom challenged my words. However, seeing the conflicted look in my eyes, he amended, "But you do talk a lot, I agree... kind of, except it's not necessarily a bad thing Jenny." 

"But everyone likes different things right? And Nelson is a different person to you. Please Tom, if you can help me, please? I don't want to be without Nelson, it hurts too much." I spoke as honestly as I could without breaking down into tears again. 

"Okay, look, here is what I can do," He thought for a second and then seemed to reach a decision, "I can teach you to be quiet when you don't want to be. I can also teach you to accept feelings of anxiety, or at least, recognise that you can work through them on your own. That you're stronger than you think you are." 

"You can?" I looked at him as though he were presenting with me a miracle cure. 

"Yes, actually I can," he reaffirmed, "Although usually I do this kind of thing under different pretences." 

"What do you mean?" I wondered how any other situation would call for someone asking Tom to help them be smarter, or quieter, or stronger and how it would be different from this occasion. 

"That, little one... doesn't matter," Tom stood up, "now eat your dinner, shower and be back in the lounge room before midnight." He scuffled up my hair affectionately and started washing his dish in the sink. 

~ 

When I had finished showering, I slipped into a top and shorts, and made my way to the lounge room as I had been instructed. Tom stood up as I entered the room, and looked at me nervously; I had never seen him this way. He stepped forward, looked me up and down and said, "Jenny, I want you to know that before we do anything, I will never harm you." 

"Harm me? Tom, of course you wouldn't," I shook my head with light bewilderment, "you're so kind hearted, why would you ever think that you'd need to convince me so?" 

"Because," he mustered, "because, the things you've asked me to help you with are very specific, and the only way I know how to help you with them is also very specific." 

"Well I'll do anything," I assured him, "I trust you, I know you wouldn't do anything bad to me, and it's going to help me get Nelson back." 

"Jenny," he seemed worried, "I need to make sure, if you feel at any point that what I'm doing, uh, the methods I'm using to help you are somehow... well... if you'd rather I just didn't do anything at all- I will need you to tell me in very clear words." 

"Well what methods do you mean?" I finally asked. 

"Everyone is different," he stated, "Some people need more... stimulation than others to feel moved." 

"Stimulation?" I further queried. 

"It's... it's kind of psychology, behaviourism. Have you ever heard of Pavolv's dog?" Tom gestured for me to take a seat, and I did so, with him. I shook my head to his question and he continued, "There is backstory there, but, basically it comes down to classical conditioning. I can condition your brain to associate one thing to another." 

"Will you have to take me to a doctor for that?" I asked with concern, which made him laugh. 

"No, I can do all this right here in my home. Of course it's not like an overnight procedure, everything takes time." Tom reached out to hold my hand, "and you need to trust me, completely, know that I am not going to harm you." 

He seemed to know what he was talking about, and I certainly did not believe he would ever harm me, so I said, "I trust you completely, and I know you would never hurt me." 

"No, we must be clear here; I said I would never harm you," Tom explained, "and this is true. Harm means, to physical injure, and especially on purpose. Now hurt... hurt is a different word. It means to physically injure- which I would never do- because that would harm you, but it also means... to cause pain." 

"Pain?" I repeated strangely, as if it were a new word in my vocabulary. 

"Yes," Tom watched my every move, every gesture, trying to trace any sense of withdrawal or hesitation from me, "I mean to teach you to be quiet when you wish to make sound, and also to realise that you are stronger than you think you are. This can only be done if you give me allowance to cause sensation to you, to arouse emotion and manipulate you into desperately wanting to do those things you want to learn not to do." 

"I... I'll do anything." This much was true. I didn't want to be heartbroken, and I didn't want to lose everything I had. I was already desperately wanting, and if feeling pain was going to make me a better person then that is what I would endure. 

"If you are absolutely certain," Tom pressed on, "then I will do what I know how to do, but I also need you to be aware of the fact that this might not work. I can change things about you with your permission, but there are no guarantees on Nelson's end of this. He might not want you back no matter how you are." 

It was a harsh reality, but it was definitely true. Nelson might have had his last straw with me. I looked at my phone to see if I had received any new messages from Nelson and realised that due to his silence, I had no other means through which to get him back. I could only change what I knew to be wrong, and hope that this would be the solution to his loss of desire for me. 

"I understand." 

~ 

It was a week before Tom touched me. That is to say, he didn't hold my hand, or hug me, or brush my hair again like he had when I arrived. I wondered why that was, and a small part of me wished for it back. But it was not as much as I wanted to have Nelson speak to me again. To my own disappointment he had not responded to my email, and I badly wanted for him to do so. 

Tom came home from one for his book shops and sat on a lonesome chair, away from the couch and I, as though I were a stranger. I didn't think I could take it much longer, because the truth was I now relied on him for his friendship and his promise to help me. Perhaps I was so bad that I had even made Tom despise me and wish me gone? 

"Tom?" I began, he looked up from his book with an expressionless face, "Did I do something wrong?" 

He blinked a few times then shook his head and looked back at the book. I frowned in concern at his lack of reassuring words, "Tom, I feel like you are mad at me for something. If you want me to leave- I will! I don't want to upset you." 

"You are worried that I'm mad at you simply because I haven't spoken to you?" 

"Yes, am I wrong?" I quivered. 

"What makes you ask me that, today? Is it because I wasn't home for a while?" He sat back with one leg crossed over the other and his book resting in his lap. I felt like I was being examined. 

"I don't know... maybe. I was worried yesterday too, and you were home. Did I do something yesterday?" Tom put his book down on the coffee table and moved closer to me. 




Being Better



"I want you to stop and think about what you're feeling right now," he suggested, "forget how I've acted specifically, and ask yourself what you're afraid of." I thought for a moment, and realised that perhaps he wasn't mad at me at all. Perhaps I was just being my usual paranoid self. 

"I'm not sure," I admitted, "because you're all I have left, if you're mad at me then"- 

Tom raised his hand to silence me and wandered towards me, "this isn't about me being mad at you Jenny. This is about you being afraid that I'm mad at you." He sat next to me and took my hand in his, "What do you think will happen if I'm mad at you?" 

"You will leave me." 

"And what happens if I leave you?" Tom asked gently. When I couldn't think of an answer, he offered, "Is it a feeling that something bad might happen to you and you won't be able to protect yourself or a feeling that no one will ever love you?" 

"I think it's both," I felt a tightening in my chest as I looked deeply into my own workings. I had never really asked why? Why was it that I felt afraid of Nelson, or anyone else for that matter, being angry with me? I knew that I wasn't very strong; I didn't believe I was very smart either. I knew too that there were many bad people out in the world, and I didn't trust in my ability to face them. 

I also thought that if Nelson couldn't love me, then who would? Someone as weak and confused as I was; I was petrified of becoming lost in the world all on my own. There was no safe haven for me to run to if everything around me fell to pieces. I could return home to my family, of course, but the truth was that their problems were far worse than my own. I knew deep down, they wouldn't accept me unless I submitted to their ways. Something I was also afraid of. 

"Would you accompany me to my bedroom?" Tom asked politely and I agreed to join him. I was still curious about his room, despite having been caught almost snooping inside. He led me into the room and shut the door behind him. I could see it was a simple room with a bed, a desk and some books. He certainly had a passion for books. 

"This," Tom proclaimed, "is how it's going to be," he held his hand out and ordered, "hand over your phone." 

"My phone?" I looked at him with wide eyes, "for how long?" 

"For the remainder of your stay here." Tom looked at me expectantly. 

"But- what about Nelson? What if he replies to my email? Don't you think I should message him again in case he didn't get the first one?" I started to panic. 

"Nelson needs time to learn that he will miss you. If you contact him again, he won't discover life without you and you will have no hope of him taking you back any time soon." Tom made a good point, yet I still clung to the phone in my damp nervous palm. I didn't want to let it go; it was my connection, my way of contact. 

"I don't know if that's a good idea," I found myself saying, trying to talk my way out of it, "mightn't miss me already?" 

"You're afraid of not having your phone on you, aren't you?" He asked, but before I could reply he had taken the phone and shoved it into a desk. Then he locked the drawer and put the key in his back pocket. 

"Listen to me," he spoke calmly, "remember that you trust me, that I'm not going to harm you, and that you asked for this." I felt urgently that I needed my phone back, but in the name of getting Nelson back I tried to remain cooperative, "Now don't argue with me, sit on this bed here and look at the desk. I'm going to leave the room for a moment and tidy up. You are going to promise me that you will not, under any circumstances, open this drawer." 

Tom reached back into his pocket and placed the key down on the desk. Then he left. I stared at that desk for exactly 8 minutes and 12 seconds, according to his alarm clock, listening to the sounds of dishes and wondering what Tom was planning. Why did I have to sit here and look at a desk with my phone locked inside it? What would this teach me? 

Then a vibration. 

I raced up to the desk and my hand darted for the key. I was so anxious to get to my phone, which was still vibrating, that I knocked the key off the desk and had to bend down to pick it up. This was a disaster, I thought, Nelson finally tries to contact me and my phone is locked away! I shoved the key inside the desk but it wouldn't turn! I wrestled with it for a minute before I realised it was the wrong key. 

"Tom!" I shouted, but there was no response so I kept jamming the key into the desk in a hope that it might turn with my sheer will. "Tom, my phone is ringing!" 

The bedroom door opened again and I saw Tom standing with a plate and drying cloth in his hand. He looked completely perplexed as to why I was in such a panic, and even laughed as I told him the key wasn't working and that he must have given me the wrong one. 

"Yes well," Tom began once he had finished laughing, "It is the wrong key, but I honestly thought you would come and get me, rather than try to open the drawer without permission." 

"Permission?! That's my phone! And Nelson"- 

"Nelson didn't ring you," Tom said bluntly. 

"How do you know?" I put my hands on my hips, flustered, still edging for the key. 

"I know because I was dialling your number," he put the plate and towel together in one of his hands and used the other to lead me towards his bed. Once I had sat back down in my previous position he added, "But it's going to be in this drawer, day and night. You won't be able to hear it from the spare room. In fact, I might call it again later and you won't know if it's me or Nelson." 

My feelings bubbled at the surface, anxiety and fear and rage. Seeing this, Tom said, "Now you won't speak of this again. This is how you are going to work on not speaking when you feel irrationally anxious. Because the longer you protest this, the longer we will need to work on your problems, and that means the longer it will take for you to get your phone back." 

Tom left the room. 

I couldn't believe what a predicament I had found myself in! Furthermore I couldn't stand the thought of not having my phone at my reach. It was an instant reassurance to check my phone, but without it... I felt my entire body tense up. I stared longer at the desk, as if staring at it would make it open. However, it remained perfectly silent, just as I was trying to be. 

Later Tom returned from the kitchen and smiled at me as he re-entered his room. He sat next to me and placed his hand upon my back. Nothing more was said about the phone; nevertheless he comforted me in other ways. He told me I could lie down upon his bed that night if it helped. I wondered if this would help me overcome my fears or if it would just be torment until everything was lost. I felt as though I missed Nelson more than ever. 

"There is more to be done than this," Tom spoke earnestly, "and I'm afraid you will not like what comes next." 

"You say that as though what you are doing already isn't torturous enough!" I huffed. Tom stared at me, placing his palm against my cheek and shaking his head sympathetically. I drew my eyebrows together in disquiet. 

"The way this works is that I need to expose you to the things that trigger your emotions in a negative way," he began, "and then I need to relate your behavioural responses to be either deterred altogether or turned around into something positive." He removed his hand. 

"Well turned positive sounds good to me!" I looked at him hopefully, "I mean that would make me more pleasant to be around, right?" 

"Actually, positive is rather hard to do without..." he stopped himself and continued, "There isn't a lot of option for me in the short term to reinforce your behavioural patterns to positive responses." 

"Oh," I was slightly disappointed by this, "That's okay, as long as I'm made better I don't mind." 

"Don't get me wrong here, I'd love more than anything to do this the positive way," he cleared his throat and then stood to walk across to the other side of the room, "we just don't have the right circumstances under which to do so." 

"Okay," I spoke thoughtfully, "well what are our current circumstances going to entail?" 

Tom walked over to the bed and pulled a wooden storage chest from out of under his bed. In this chest there were a number of odd objects, I believed it was just a place he threw bits and pieces he didn't have specific places for. I noticed string, paint brushes, hair brushes, tape, lollies, and- 

"What's that?" I spoke just as he shut the lid down tightly. 

"Nothing that concerns you," he pushed the chest back under the bed and threw a few of the odd items onto the bed. 

"You have a pen and some old string?" I questioned his choices, "What are you going to do with that exactly?" Tom looked down at me a grinned. 

"Jenny, I've had a while to think about the best way to go about this, the least painful method possible," Tom knelt down and reached for my slippers, I pushed my feet into his carpet and prevented him from lifting my feet off the ground, "you're going to have to cooperate with me here." 

"Can you tell me what you are doing first?" I demanded. 

Tom's dark brown eyes observed my green ones for a second, perhaps considering my words, but then- "No, that's not going to work. All you need to know is that I am helping you overcome what you consider to be the weaknesses that have driven Nelson away." 

With those words I loosened my grip on the floor and he carefully slid the slippers from my feet. Picking up the string he started to tie loops around my big toes and joined them together by first looping one, then the other, then both together. The knot was tight, but that did not stop him from furthermore tying my ankles together. Then my feet were inseparable, movement completely restricted. 

"Tom I'm cooperating, can you please tell me, is this going to hurt?" I felt genuinely scared. It was like going to the dentist, where they put weird things in your mouth and you didn't know which ones were going to hurt or which ones would just feel strange. 

"This shouldn't hurt," he took both my ankles in his hands and stood raising them into the air as he did so. I flopped backwards onto the bed, which was a surprise because I wasn't expecting to be man-handled, "Slide your bottom towards the middle of the bed," he instructed. I looked at him with uncertain eyes and moved because he then added, "or else I'll come closer and do it for you." 

Positioned so that my feet were hanging off the end of the bed, he guided my legs so that I was motioned to lie on my stomach. I groaned a little not knowing what was to come, and turned to see behind myself just as he sat down on top of my ankles, with my feet poking out between his legs. 

That was when something clicked. 

"Wait, wait, wait," I panicked making him laugh a little and turn back to look at me, "can you at least not touch my feet too much? Whatever you're going to do, like, can it be done with minimal"- 

His nails ran down the soles of both my feet making me squeal a little, "minimal tickling?" he suggested as an ending to my sentence. My heart was racing and I had tried to turn over and gain some leverage into pulling my legs out, however it was rather difficult to do with both my feet tied together. 

"Yes, please don't," I insisted. 

"So which is it?" He caressed my soles again, this time back and forth in a continual motion, "Yes you want minimal tickling? Or please don't have minimal tickling?" I stretched back to stop him but could not reach, so instead I reached for the nearest pillow and threw it at him mid giggle. In response Tom actually thanked me; he placed it underneath himself to cushion his seating position. 

At this point his fingers were wriggling between my toes and scraping across my soles and caressing my ankles over and over again. I couldn't speak from the giggling. He did this until I was completely out of breath and could barely speak. 

"Tell me Jenny," he paused at last, "do you want me to give you your phone now?" 

I wondered if this was a trick question. The end goal was for me to stop feeling anxious about Nelson, right? So surely if I said no, he would stop and then I would be free to go. 

"No?" I asked tentatively. 

"See," Tom began, "that took too long and sounded more like a question. Am I right?" Perhaps I was silent for too long, but it felt like seconds before Tom had reach around and planted his palm harshly across my backside. I yelped and clung to the sheets for mercy. 

"What was that for?" I squealed. 

"For lying," he began to run his fingers along my ankles again, making me feel warm and tingly around my feet, while the sting across my bottom cheeks tingled in its own way. "You probably will learn that you can't get away with lying to me very much little one, I've had a lot of practice with this kind of behavioural conditioning." 

The process was repeated; however this time he used a pen to torment the soles and sides of my feet. He was courteous enough to inform me that the pen had in fact run out of ink, but however, was now a very good tickling weapon. I felt the tip of that pen glide up and down every inch of my two feet, while he held them into firm place; I was paralysed by the sensation and laughing until my stomach hurt. 

"Are you still worried about Nelson?" He sprung on me after what seemed forever. I admitted yes, because I was concerned he would spank me again for lying, and so he continued on and on. Hours later, it seemed, and I had lost my mind! I was certain I had even cussed at him at one point, although that only made him stop for a second in order to laugh at my struggles. 

By the end, he had only spanked me once more, for lying about needing to pee. I was humiliated, and completely broken in with the physical exhaustion of it all- to the point that I could not even think about how I felt. He asked me a final time if I still wanted my phone, and to my surprise, I honestly had to say no. 

I fell asleep in Tom's bed that night. 

~ 

I woke up in a daze. Had all of that really happened? Was that his big plan? I looked over at the drawers and still wanted my phone so badly that it hurt. I turned and noticed that Tom was no longer in the bed with me; I thought perhaps he had left for work already, so I stood up and stretched. I walked over to his drawer desk and pulled the handle feebly knowing it would still be locked. 

Giving up quickly I walked towards the bathroom and thought I could use a long hot shower. The sweat I had worked up during his behavioural training had left me feeling sticky and unattractive. All I wanted was to feel hot steam and soapy water running over my bare skin. 

Opening the door- I gasped. Tom turned around, mid towelling himself dry, and he grinned as I spun around with my eyes clamped shut. What had I done? Did I seriously just do the cliché walking-into-a-guy's-bathroom-without-knocking-only-to-find-him-naked-and-hot-standing-before-me? I blushed profusely. 

"Hey there little one," He walked past me with the towel wrapped around his hips, "don't worry, I'm not shy." He winked and left the bathroom shouting, "enjoy the shower!" 

I couldn't believe it. He had been there right in front of me, all naked and different looking. I mean, he didn't look like Nelson at all. Nelson was shorter, and narrower, and pale and... had I really just seem Tom naked? I slipped off my clothes and stepped into the shower in shock. 

When I left the shower I felt refreshed, which was weird because hadn't I just spent the previous night being basically tortured until I passed out? Tom explained to me over breakfast that soon I would associate the torture with being present only as the result of thinking of Nelson's ignoring me. He told me that actual pain would be more sufficient, but that he couldn't justify inflicting such upon me. 

I felt concerned about going through that again. Another night, completely helpless to his touch, manipulated by his every stroke... it made me nervous in ways I couldn't express in words. However, it made sense that overcoming my anxiety of not having Nelson's attention would mean I would become less needy when he invited me back to be with him. 

Weeks passed by where Tom strapped me to his bed and touched every inch of me. Well, everywhere except my most private and intimate parts. Tom was very careful to keep them covered, to keep me decent even when I ended up thrashing about. He discovered places around my neck, and the back of my ribs, which would make me squeal the instant he neared to them. Tom even learnt secrets about me that I had never confessed to anyone. 

Some nights I cried at the end, because even in my most weakened state, I still wanted to hear Nelson and to be with him. On those nights, Tom would stop and cradle me, and whisper things in my ear until I fell into dreams. Sometimes he would gently pat my bottom; I often rested my face into his chest with tears streaming down my cheeks... whimpering that Nelson never truly loved me. 

Eventually a week passed by without a single tear. Willingly I knelt down by Tom's bed and placed my palms out for him to bind by the wrists with ease. He tightened the ropes just right and moved the stray strands of my hair from my face to be tucked behind my ears. Tom often called me 'Little One' during these conditioning sessions. Often he would start by asking me how I felt in general, and if I wanted to choose where he should start from. 

Of course, I never dared ask for anything from him. It was too embarrassing to request a place of torture. His dark brown eyes seemed to know all the right places on their own anyway; I certainly didn't want to clue him in on which one's were the worst. 

Tom had my arms stretched above my head, as he knelt over me with each of his knees firmly against my hips. He started by caressing my ribs, stroking them in an up and down motion. Slowly making my skin tingle with anticipation... or was it dread? I couldn't remember anymore. I began to breathe heavily, feeling a familiar light flush enter my cheeks, which I knew only to occur when an attractive boy flirted with me. 

"I want you to tell me how many times you thought of Nelson today," Tom began, then jabbed me in the sides a few times, making me jump from side to side, in an attempt to lessen the blows. 

"I can't remember," I closed my eyes tight, a humiliating grin stamped across my face, "please don't hurt me!" I begged playfully. Tom chuckled and wriggled his fingers under my chin, making me squeal in delightful torment. 

"Tell me... how many times you thought about retrieving your phone today," he leaned over and blew a raspberry over my stomach, which made me trembling with giggles. I felt the cool air he blew across the dampened patch on my stomach and tremble all over again. Tom knew too much about me now. 

"I don't remember!" I giggled while his fingers grabbed and darted all over my sides. Something, which I hadn't noticed previously, was the warm sensation creeping between my thighs and over my breasts. His teasing, torturous treatment of me had begun to arouse my body in a different manner. My eyes met with his and I was staggered to see the complete joy with which he watched me squirm over and over again every single night. 

"If you don't remember," he insisted, pausing and looking at me sternly, "and you are being completely honest with me?" he prodded, "then tell me this one last thing, do you actually want me to stop, or are you enjoying this a lot more than you're letting on?" 

My breath caught in my throat and I looked at him with wide eyes. Tom had seen right through my most recent pleas and voiced the one thing I didn't want to confess. That indeed I had enjoyed his treatment of me; the attention, the precision and how he understood parts of my body that Nelson had never even touched. I felt overcome with arousal when confronted by my desires, like having it announced during my most weakened state was somehow another way of pressing the heat deeper under my skin. 




Being Better



The silence rang out for a second, until Tom continued to caress my skin, up and down my ribs, stopping just before my breasts. His finger traced the lining of my bra, and I felt my nipples harden underneath the fabric. I could see my feelings were not well hidden, that Tom could easily see how aroused I had become, however this only made the sensation more intense. For it was his noticing my body's responses that began my feelings of arousal in the first place. 

Tom placed one hand onto the bed next to me, and used the other to caress the hair from my face. He rubbed my forehead with his thumb, resting his fingers in my hair, and pushed himself to lie beside me. "Oh Little One," he began softly, "I promised I would never harm you..." He patted my forehead as if to end our session and began to untie the binds around my wrists. 

"Tom?" I was confused by what he meant by the statement. 

"I'm giving you your phone tonight bub," he finalised, "I think you're ready." 

~ 

That night I was sitting in the spare room which Tom had kindly let me stay in for so long... and in my hand was my phone. It had died after sitting unused in Tom's desk drawer for so long, so I had to plug it into the wall. It took an hour for me to check my message bank, which was strange because I had waited so long to obtain this simple electronic gadget. 

I thought of the hours I spent earning my way to discovering what message would possibly await me. Tom had not looked at the phone while I was asleep; he told me it was disrespectful to my privacy. I thought perhaps he was lying, but when the phone switched back on I did discover that none of my messages had been opened. 

I had several messages on my phone actually. Two missed calls from Tom, one message from my brother asking for $76.00 which he needed by last Wednesday or else he said he wouldn't have money for drinks that Friday. Finally after another two messages from businesses promoting new products, there was one text message from Nelson. It read: 

'Hey Sfexy Im waitin 4u.' 

Despite all the time that had passed I still felt a flutter of relief that he had not forgotten me. Nelson still wanted me, I knew it- he just needed time to readjust to his new career goals. I put the phone down and eyed it for a good couple of minutes. Nelson and I might still have a chance... 

I packed my back pack up and realised it was too late to rush out and disturb Nelson at such an hour. He would be sleeping, and I remembered how much he needed his sleep. Some people just couldn't function without the right amount of sleep, I thought, and I could wait until morning to see him again. 

The next day I woke up and made breakfast for Tom. He had done so much for me and I wanted to do something nice in return. I made what looked like eggs on toast, but tasted like something else altogether, still Tom ate it appreciatively. Tom noticed my backpack and looked at me with worry in his deep eyes. 

"Did Nelson ask for you to move back in with him?" He tried to sound casual, but I knew it was concern. 

"No, I just wanted it with me, just in case." I assured him that I felt much more independent now that I had been away for as long as I had. The truth was that I had also learnt that I could handle much more than I expected. I had never imagined a body as small as mine could endure as much as it did. 

Tom offered to drive me to Nelson's house, but I told him I didn't mind catching the bus. The truth was; I wanted more time before I saw Nelson, to think about how I felt and what I would say. What would I say? I wasn't sure if I still felt the same concerns that I felt when I originally sent him that long apologetic email. I wasn't sure what I felt about anything. 

The bus ride was too short and it wasn't long before I was standing at Nelson's door. I thought about what he might say when he saw me, perhaps he would have learnt that he did miss me. Perhaps he had wished I would move back in that very night? I knocked three hard knocks and waited patiently for him to open the door. 

A business dress opened the door with a smug look on her face. "I thought we shipped you off weeks ago," Sherry said, her dress on slightly crooked and her hair askew, "sweetheart, Nelson doesn't want you, okay?" She rolled her eyes impatiently as if she had been explaining the same concept to me for the last hour. 

Nelson stepped out of his bedroom to see what all the fuss was about and looked genuinely surprised to see me at his doorstep. Wearing only his night robe and holding a bottle of champagne I could see in his face that he wasn't expecting anyone to visit him at all. "Nelson, I..." 

"Jennifer darling," he hiccupped, "You should join the party!" I stared at him and couldn't believe my eyes. I was so stupid! What kind of health inspector hires a promotional agent? It was so clear to me now, she was never in business with him- she was in bed with him! He had sent his mistress to rid of me instead of doing it himself like genuine person. 

I stood up straight and swallowed the lump in my throat. 

"Thanks but I'll pass," I spat, and then throwing my bag of possessions into his house I said, "I just wanted to return all the clothes I used to wear for you while we were together." 

I turned to leave but then pivoted at the doorstep after hearing the tisking sound of annoyance emitted from Sherry's lips, "Let's face it Sherry," I added, "if I joined that party again, where the only person who gets off is Nelson, I'd basically be better off on my own. Although, he did recently hire you for your services now, didn't he?" 

Sherry didn't look pleased by my comments; all she could say was for me to get off her boyfriend's property before she called the police. Regardless of which it didn't matter; I had no intention of staying a second longer. 

~ 

When I stepped onto the bus returning me to Tom's house, my heart felt crushed. It was as though Nelson had abandoned me all over again. But the truth was that Nelson had never taken me back. He probably had never even read my email, and had probably only messaged me out of a drunken haze. 

I zombie walked over to the middle of the bus, where I sat down on the stiff cushioned seat, and held my breath. If I could hold my breath long enough, there was a chance that I would faint and the pain would stop. Yet my body would not put up with my shameful attempts at losing consciousness and soon I gasped for more air. A lonely woman a few seats across from me turned to eye me suspiciously for a moment, and then looked back out the window as if my world had not been crumbling beneath me. 

I had spent weeks working on how to suffer in silence; never speaking of my anxiety driven urges; to contact Nelson. Tom ensured those urges resulted in hours of sensational overdrive, mindlessness and frenzy; my punishment for having the urges in the first place. Soon the urges lessened; my body realising that wanting Nelson's presence was to end in hours of physical exhaustion. Yet in the end, I still sought Nelson out, and discovered... 

He was a little Bitch. Nelson was completely and totally a little Bitch. He was self-serving, greedy and had cheated on me. Nelson, the man I thought was all professionalism and business, was just a faker who spent more time sleeping than doing anything to appreciate my honest devotion. Don't get me wrong, my heart was still crushed... but, but there was something changed in me. 

I had arrived at Tom's door when I realised something else to be true. Tom had given me a place to stay so that he could help me get Nelson back, and now that was over, I was overstaying my welcome. I couldn't take from Tom any more than he had already given me. I wanted to send him a message, but my phone had been in the bag I had tossed into Nelson's home. It was strange how little I was bothered by the fact that I had given my phone away to prove a point. 

I decided I would start fresh. I would find a job, find a home, and write Tom a letter expressing my complete and total gratitude to him for his efforts. I would never forget how selflessly he kept me in his home and cared for me at my weakest hour. Reaching out, I placed my hand affectionately across the hard wood of his front door; as if this were my way of saying farewell in the interim. The red mahogany stain felt smooth against my fingertips, and a slight sadness fell over me as I realised I would miss Tom. Even for one day without seeing his face. 

~ 

Musky old motels were the worst, I thought. How fortunate I had been for Tom to have found me the first time. However, it was a part of my steps to being more independent. I had found a job at a printing warehouse where I was able to learn all about how books were manufactured and printed out every day. I was excited to be a part of an industry that distributed reading materials across the world. Even Tom would have been proud, but I was certain he would only have received my first letter that evening, and might not have read it yet. 

It had been four days since I left Nelson behind, and I had tried to find Tom at his book stores to tell him I was okay; however the staff informed that Tom had been sick away from work. I mentioned to them that I would perhaps visit him at home, yet they warned me against doing so. Tom had asked that no one disturbed him until his return. I was concerned, and wished to check up on him, but also didn't want to disobey his wishes if he truly didn't want company. 

Nelson had also called me at the motel to apologise for his behaviour. He mentioned that he wanted to take me out to dinner sometime, to which I politely told him I'd rather eat a bowl of burning lava, than to see his face on the other side of a dining table again. I wondered how long it had taken him to track me down to this motel just to ask me out, but then shook my head at the absurdity of it all. It was his mistake to let me go, and it wasn't my problem anymore. 

It was late night-time and when a motel attendant, a petite woman with a slight European accent, knocked on my door, "There was a package left for you miss," she informed me while holding it outwards with a smile. It was a small parcel, perhaps the size and shape of a small novel, and the petite lady seemed to think it was sweet that someone had gone to the trouble to send me a present. 

"Hell, I hope this isn't from who I think it's from," I exhaled wearily, remembering Nelson's suggestion in sending me a gift. I opened the package up and pulled out a home bound book. The cover was made of coffee stained cardboard paper, and had a picture of a woman surrounded by piles of T-shirts, and wearing only her undergarments. The title of the book read; "Looking Down With Approval," and then captioned, "Be proud to wear anything you damn well like... by Tom Andersons." 

"Tom!" I cried out- making the attendant jump with surprise- "Sorry, I didn't mean to shout that," I covered my mouth shyly, "I'm usually very welcoming to strangers, because it can be scary meeting people when not all strangers are very welcoming to begin with, but I wasn't expecting- I mean this, this is something unexpected!" The lady stared at me with confusion as I flipped through the pages, stopping at the entire chapter on cleavage, feeling impressed by how un-sleazy the book was in discussing breasts. 

The attendant smiled and left me to flipping through the pages, and then a note fell out from between the pages of the book, gracefully gliding its way to the floor by my feet. I had been sitting on my bed by this point, and reached down for the note, excitedly anticipating Tom's response to my letter. 

My Dearest Little One, 

What have I told you about staying in dirty little Motels? This is very, very, naughty of you. You have exactly three seconds to put my book away and start packing your things! I expect you showered and back in my lounge room before midnight tonight. Don't make me come tickle you back into my arms Jenny... we both know who wins that game. 

Sincerely, 

Thomas. 

I read the letter possibly five or six times before I actually followed his instructions. Perhaps it was the goofy grin smeared across my face, but I just couldn't get enough of reading his words; those words that always made me feel vulnerable, yet so safe at the same time. I packed my things in under five minutes, and tested my patience with running a hot shower as well. 

I ran down to the signing out station with wet hair and wearing the one new outfit I had been able to afford since disposing of all my old possessions. It was a black and green buttoned-up shirt, and a pair of black yoga pants, which I thought were probably considered a wardrobe essential to most modern women. At least, that's what the sales representative told me anyway. 

With the promise of Tom waiting for my return I forgot why I had ever thought it was a good idea to live by my lonesome again. Tom was sweet and supportive, and he seemed to want my company, just as badly as I wanted his. I thought of all the things I wanted to say to him, and all the ways I wanted to express my gratitude, and how badly I wanted to be- 

I stopped mid-thought; perhaps jolted by a bump the bus had run over, a bump that almost shoved me off of my seat. Perhaps jolted by the words that nearly formed a complete sentence in my head... I wanted Tom to torture me again. 

That was weird. 

I looked over at the other passengers on the bus, as if concerned that they hear the thoughts in my head. They did not seem to have noticed my private revelation, for none took to raising an eyebrow, or squinting with repulsion in my direction. The world around me continued as it was, while I sat silently, wondering how I had become as unbalanced and absurd as to enjoy being persecuted by Tom. 

The bus stopped at my stop and I started a slow thoughtful walk towards Tom's residence. What did this all mean? Nelson and I had always made love in a very to-the-point kind of fashion, nothing was amiss and nothing was uncomfortable or unpleasant about it. I always found the intimacy a pleasant welcome from the mundane day to day activities of my life; I had always been left wanting more and feeling unsatisfied. Even the moments after our intimacy felt empty and lacking. 

Tom however, hadn't even touched my most private parts, and I had felt more completed than ever before. He incited sensations all over my body, which steered me to break free from- not just life's monotony, but also... from myself. I felt as though the walls around me crumbled and shattered and dissolved the ground beneath me... yet somehow the anxiety I would feel in such abstract disaster did not have room to exist in the hands of Tom and his manipulation of my body. 

I walked so gradually that by the time I had reached Tom's door I was officially 2-minutes-late. Of course, without a phone to tell me the time, I was unaware of it being as late as it was. Tom had been waiting up for me and confessed that he had expected me earlier, worrying something bad had happened on my travels to his house. 

"I started to wonder if I should have just come and collected you myself, I don't know what I was thinking having you travel alone at night," he embraced me tightly with relief and joy. When he released me and noticed the deep and distant expression on my face, his relief turned into worry once more, "did something happen?" 

"No, Tom," I took a few steps inside his house and turned to face him as he closed his front door, "Tom, is there something wrong with me?" 

"Something wrong with you," he repeated in confusion. 

"Yes." I hesitated, "see, I've been thinking about certain things that you've done for me." Tom stood awkwardly waiting for me to continue, but I remained silent. Something inside of me wanted him to just know, for his dark eyes to read into my thoughts like they always did, and for him to fix my concerns with his magic words. 

"Jenny," Tom started gently, "you're going to have to elaborate for me." 

"I was afraid you'd say that," I began, then to mimic an old behaviour, I tried to hide my shameful face behind my hair and stared down at my feet where I was safe from any berating expressions, "I, I'm scared that I enjoyed the behavioural conditioning too much for it to be normal." 

"You enjoyed what I did to you?" Tom sounded surprised. As he took steps towards me, I turned my face away, because I was afraid he would fall into my line of sight- then perhaps I would see the look of disgust on his face as well. Tom reached out calmly and tilted my face back up to look into his eyes, they were deeper than usual I felt, however I couldn't read the expression on his face. 

"Say that again," he said. 

"What?" I looked at him frightfully. Was he really going to humiliate me? Force my confession over and over again? 

"Tell me how you enjoyed the way I tickled"- I pulled my face away from his hand feeling the humiliation sinking deep into my skin- Tom reached out with both his hand and cupped my face, forcing me to stare into his eyes and bare their weighty gaze upon my head, "and spanked, and manipulated your little body at my every command, little one. Say it again." 

I gulped and mumbled the words, "I think maybe, I liked it too much." 

Tom waited until my cheeks were fully blushed, until my palms were damp and shaky against him; my pathetic effort to place something between the two of us. His eyes were taking in the sheer mortification that had carved itself upon my face- and then without another word- he swooped down and flung me over his shoulders. His hand found its way to my bottom and tapped it lightly, playfully almost, and he led me down the hallway and into his bedroom. 

"Well this just about settles it," he said sternly, "You're in for it now." 

I felt upset at the thought of displeasing Tom, after everything I had been through, losing everything I had and then potentially losing the one person who was always there for me on top of that. Tom would never harm me on purpose, that much I knew, and trusted, for I had his word... but if my true horrible self-had driven him away... then I would be forever saddened by the loss. 

Tom threw me onto his bed and stared down at me with a wild expression I had never seen before. He looked at me for that moment and then without hesitation he said, "You realise the circumstances here are very different to what they once were?" I nodded and moved into a seating position, understanding that he wouldn't look at me the same way after this. What if he would send me away to a psychiatric ward and I would forever be shamed for my freakish sexual desires? 

"I don't know how this happened Tom," I pleaded in whimpers, "Is this because I... because I have all those anxiety problems? Did it cause some kind of reaction with the behavioural modification treatment and now I can't be fixed? Tom I'm scared." I buried my face in my hands and started to sob. 

"What?" Tom shook his head, realising what I had been thinking, "No, no, no, Jenny..." He knelt before me and uncovered my face, "Little one," he simpered, "the circumstances have changed not because something is wrong with you- it's because something is perfect with you." 

"What are you talking about, Tom?" I felt like this must be a mistake, I must have misheard his words, or he had misunderstood mine! "I'm not normal." 

"That's," he paused for a second and then reached underneath his bed to draw out the chest of random items he kept stuffed in there. He opened the lid and pulled out some rope- 

"Please Tom, I don't want to look at them anymore, it's"- he shushed me with his finger to my lips. 




Being Better



"Sexuality isn't a ridged thing Jenny," he hooked the rope around the back of my neck and pulled me forward, my face almost nose to nose with his, "It's flexible," he wound the rope around my throat, gently tugging it into place so that I could feel it's pressure, yet not to be left gasping for air. My fingers moved up to touch the rope, scared he would pull at it tighter, but wavering at the slight feeling of adrenaline and excitement it send throughout my body. 

"Sexuality doesn't have a normal," he continued, taking one end of the rope and smoothly tying it to my right wrist, "everybody is... every-body is different," he tied the other rope-end to my left wrist. Tom then guided me to standing position and turned me around, he tied both ends of the rope together so that my hands were fastened to my back and there was a slight restriction of pressure around my throat. 

I was gently led to rest on Tom's bed with my head on his pillow and his eyes staring carefully down at me to see if I would protest any further treatment. I gazed up at him innocently, completely trusting in him to care for me, because I knew he would never harm me, even if the things he did to me hurt at times. Tom leant down and traced the row of buttons along the front of my shirt, "and you're body...," Tom continued on from his previous thoughts, undoing the buttons one at a time, taking his time to choose how to express his thought, "is apparently very interesting." 

As the last button was released, I let out a breath of tension. While I was still covered by the bra I wore beneath my shirt, I had never been so exposed to Tom before. I had begun to pant heavily, knowing my small size was still moving up and down to its rhythm, knowing that Tom would not let any single movement go unnoticed beneath the heat of his gaze. 

"You don't think I need help?" I whimpered still, needing further reassurance that I was not an ill minded girl who needed special psychiatric care. 

Reaching down beside the bed he cooed, "That's quite the contrary." He raised a pair of scissors up before us and ran a long finger along the blade as though admiring its sharp edge- my eyes widened in fear, "You very much are in need of help." 

Hastily-Tom yanked masking tape from behind his back -slapped it across my mouth as I mid screamed and- slowly... as I lie petrified before him, he lifted a bra strap and snipped it off. Then he traced the pointed end of the scissors across my collar bone and snipped the other strap off too. The scissors, to my relief, were dropped to the floor just before he reached down behind my back and unclasped the last thing that was keeping my breasts from being fully exposed to everything. 

"Now remember Jenny when I told you, you need to be very clear with me, if you would rather I didn't do anything more at all, you need to make it very explicit to me..." Tom's eyes met mine, waiting expectantly for some kind of sign that I wanted him to stop, that I hadn't indeed wanted him to release me and fondle my sensitive areas... 

I made certain to rest very quietly; not to make any sudden movements... 

"That's what I expected," he slipped the loosened cups right off of my breasts and dropped them to the floor. 

Tom didn't touch my breasts at first; he let me suffer before him, seeing how embarrassed I was to be uncovered. He smirked, tracing lines along my ribs like he had done previously, but this time he traced right up to the edge of my nipples. He grasped my sides suddenly, teasingly to give me a jolt, and then went back to soft tracings again. 

My nipples had hardened as a warm tingling sensation started to spread across my body, I'm sure Tom could see the tiny hairs standing on end across my body as he watched me shiver beneath him. I closed my eyes tightly, feeling humiliated to be weakened so easily. 

"Tsk Tsk Tsk," Tom began to tease with his words, "we haven't even started, little one, and already you seem to be utterly, helplessly...aroused." Tom let the words roll off of his tongue like he spoke such teasing taunts to women every day. He suddenly pinched both my nipples between his thumbs and index fingers and massaged gently in maddening circles until I whimpered, this time with pleasure. 

He spent some time caressing the skin along my stomach, then moved back to my nipples again, realising how sensitive they were to the touch. He began the pinching and stroking in a circular motion once more, watching me wrestle with the desire to stop him, but knowing that the movement would tighten the rope around my neck. 

"Oh you poor little thing," he leaned forward and suckled on one of the nipples, raising his head and blowing cold air against it, like he had before on other parts of my body. I felt his breath gently play against me, making me only think of how badly I wished to be touched deeper, further, between my thighs... 

Tom was not one to race into things though; my heart was beating frantically and my mind was completely gone with passion by the time he had decided to leave my nipples to rest. I had looked at him longingly for what seemed far too long before he moved to touch elsewhere. Somehow he enjoyed the sight of my vulnerably weakened state. 

"Is this what you wanted?" he widened my legs and lowered himself between my thighs, blowing hot breath against the wetness that had formed through my arousal. He kissed my legs, licking and nipping places as he chose, but never touching the place the yearned for it the most. I had begun to pivot my hips up closer to his face, as my only means of begging for some kind of release. 

Tom laughed at me, "Jenny, do you really think I would give you what you've wanted that easily?" he raised an eyebrow my way only to be met with a frantically desperate expression of yearning. He hummed thoughtfully and traced a finger along the opening of my sensitive area, teasing me with his gentle touch, leaving me completely at his mercy... 

That's when he gently spread me open, using his knowing fingertips, to expose my clitoris in full view. He looked at this for a moment, taking it in, and then kissing the tip. He flicked his tongue over it a few times, making me tremble in response, to which he replied, "You know, this is the cutest little clit I have ever had the pleasure of controlling." 

I held my breath in anticipation, knowing I was in no state to hide my arousal, knowing I was in no sense of the word... playing it cool. Tom nuzzled into my clit with his tongue, kissing it and all the parts around it... his fingers dancing around other parts too... touching inside, pulling some parts tighter and softly provoking others. Tom explored every inch of me that night, in ways I had not known to be possible. 

"Jenny," Tom grinned confidently, "I believe it's time we experimented with positive reinforcement within your behavioural conditioning, don't you agree?" I held my breath, too shy to give consent to my own pleasures, too timid to speak at all. 

Tom teased further, "That's ok, maybe I'll just have to tickle the answers out of you."



Being Bi for the Wife



My wife and I have been married for almost two decades and have been swinging for most of them. We used to get each other hot by reading Penthouse letters to each other. In our first home together, Stacey would often lay out with a friend while I was at work and they would also read these stories to each other. Fiction led to reality and we eventually had our first swinging experience with her girlfriend and another friend. We have thoroughly enjoyed ourselves over the years since then and one thing always leads to another. My wife once saw some bi action in a video and was hot to see it in real life after that. She finally talked me into trying it and, an honest surprise to myself, I wound up liking it. Say what you will but that lead to many more pleasurable evenings. The fantasies continued to become realities and as they did, even bigger fantasies replaced the ones realized. This story is about finally fulfilling one of my wife's bi-male fantasies.

One of her biggest fantasies has always been to have an orgy with nothing but bi guys. This is a lot harder to pull off than you would think. We have tried several times over the years with little success. Luck finally went our way recently though. She texted me once at the end of the week and said "We need some cock" (It had been a while since our last bi encounter). Well something about that message turned me on and I went straight home and did something I don't normally do: got on Craigslist. 

Now Craigslist honestly scares the shit out of me. We've tried it once or twice before and had some really strange experiences and I've heard more horror stories than good ones, so I normally avoid CL like the plague. But the usual channels just weren't going to cut it this time. Our usual bi friends are hard enough to get together one-on-one, much less as a group. So I said fuck it, why not.

Now her fantasy is pretty specific and always entails me getting fucked numerous times by everyone else. I'm as straight acting a guy as they come but I do enjoy some anal action, so I was pretty much up for this fantasy as well. I've browsed CL before and it seemed to be mostly ads from bottoms wanting tops, etc. but I figured I'd give it a shot myself and see what kind of response I got. 

So here's what I posted:

"Wife and I are thinking of taking the day off tomorrow and getting a hotel room. Wife wants to see me take it repeatedly in the ass. Yes she will play too. So here is what we are looking for: A select few guys that are willing to fuck another guy in the ass. You must be white, not overweight, average or better dick, willing to use condoms, and be respectful. If you can get it up twice, you can play with her too. If this interests you, reply with a face and cock pic with Hotel Tuesday in the subject line. If we like what we see, you'll get our pics in return. We're looking to play from around lunch time to into the evening. Anyone that replies without pics or one liners will be ignored. Sorry guys, I bothered to put some thought into this ad, you bother to say something of substance. If you're looking for an ongoing thing, we can accommodate that too and you won't be sorry you met us, promise. Only rule for the guys is no guy on guy kissing. Not into that. Just like cock. Sucking and fucking is fair game."

I figured that was straight forward enough and should keep out at least part of the weirdos that I expected to hear from. I even threw in a few photos of my cock and ass to sweeten the deal. Sure enough, the emails came pouring in but surprisingly, more than half of them seemed to be legit and actually responded as per my instructions in the ad. I dealt with a steady stream of emails through the weekend and, even though I didn't want to get her hopes up too early, I wound up letting Stacey in on what I was planning by Sunday night. To say she was excited would be a huge understatement but I cautioned her that out of about 20 or so that seemed like they were serious, I wouldn't bank on more than three or four even showing up. Still, three or four was way more than we'd ever had before and even I was starting to get a little excited to see if this would actually happen.

All day Monday I answered emails that yes we were serious and yes they were invited and yes I would give them the hotel information soon. Man, this was going a lot better than I thought it would.

Tuesday rolled around and Stacey went out to get the hotel and texted me before lunch with which one and the room number. I had already arranged to take off half a day so I ate my lunch a little early and then headed out. Stacey had packed up my computer and brought it to the hotel room so I figured I would send out all the info from that rather than from my phone and give myself time to get a shower and clean up real good. 

The room was a decent size room with two full beds and a fridge Stacey had put some water in. I sat down at the small desk and sent out emails to the 20 or so guys that seemed serious and we liked the look of and hit the shower. I spent a little time rinsing myself out real good in case this actually went the way we wanted it too. I had barely got out of the shower when the first message came rolling and he said he would be there in 5 minutes. Holy shit! This was actually happening! 

A few minutes later, before I could even throw some semblance of clothing on, there was a knock on the door. I answered the door in my underwear and let the first guest in. "John" looked like his pic and didn't strike me right away as a raving axe murderer. So far, so good. Most of these guys had said they were going to be coming on their lunch break so I knew we didn't have much time. 

"Let's not stand on ceremony," I told John. "I know you don't have long, so why don't you get out of those clothes and let's get started." He quickly agreed. Stacey looked at me a little shocked cause we always like to talk a bit to any new prospective partners but today was an exception. She wanted a show and I was going to do my best to give it to her. 

John quickly got undressed and I had him lay down on the bed. I didn't waste any time and went straight for his cock, which was a nice 7 inches or so and thicker than normal. I know these stories are mostly all about bigger than normal cocks, etc., but I'll tell you we purposefully only invited guys with cocks 7 inches and thick or bigger so I'll stop there with the cock descriptions. They were ALL big and nice and one in particular, which I will let you know about, was 8 inches and thick enough to make my jaws hurt after only a few minutes of sucking. Back to the one at hand, I began to suck him for all I was worth and he quickly seemed to be getting really into it. I was thinking how much I'd like it in my ass but he was enjoying the blowjob so much I didn't want to stop. Stacey came and joined me after watching for a few minutes and she helped me suck John's dick. I could tell he was already getting close by the way his body was moving on the bed. I know we wanted to do a lot of fucking but I thought why not start off with a good blowjob. John had already mentioned he might come back after work so I figured I could get some fucking action from him later and just kept sucking. I was right and only a couple of minutes later John tensed up and filled my mouth with cum. I swallowed the best I could. It wasn't a whole lot but I'm kind of a gagger so I always lose a little. Still, I kept sucking him for a while as long as he could stand it. I didn't suck too hard cause I know how sensitive I am after I cum but I kept sucking all the same. 

After a minute or two I remembered I should be watching for more emails so I got up to check. Sure enough, two more guys had shown up while we were sucking off John. I sent them a message to come on up and we chatted with John a bit while we waited. In a couple of minutes, there was a knock on the door and Stacey got up to let them in. Dave, medium height and blondish, was again true to his pics and, after introductions, we chatted a bit more while I sorted through some more messages. Dave got undressed while I did this and sat on the bed with Stacey.

"Why don't you let me handle those messages and you get over there and take care of business?" Stacey said.

I gladly agreed and handed her my phone that I was answering at the moment and dropped to my knees between the beds and started sucking Dave's cock while she watched. John, who had started to get dressed and leave, decided to stick around a while longer after watching some of the action and got back on the bed with Stacey, who started sucking his cock again. Before we could get much farther into anything, there was another knock on the door and I quit sucking Dave to go answer it. As soon as I got up, Dave flipped over and dove between Stacey's legs and began licking her pussy which I can only imagine was dripping wet. 

I let in Sean and Rick, and guided them over between the two beds. Both of them got undressed quickly and I sat down on the corner of the other bed and started sucking their cocks. I had never had two cocks to play with at the same time like Stacey had so I thought that was pretty cool. I alternated back and forth between them and sucked them both to hardness. 

We were barely 25 minutes into the first guy showing up and I've already had 4 cocks in my mouth! This was going great!

So here we were, Stacey on the bed sucking John's cock while Dave ate her pussy and me with a dick in each hand enjoying myself and there comes yet another knock on the door. This guy, Mike, was short but stocky.

"Come on in," I said from partially hidden behind the open door. "We already started. Get naked and join in."

Rick had moved over to join Stacey and the others on the bed and I sat back down on the bed and started sucking Sean again. Mike had moved over by the window and was down to his underwear. I quit sucking Sean and stretched across the bed to let his cock out. After helping him off with the underwear, I lay across the foot of the bed on my stomach and swallowed his dick.

Dave had gotten up from between Stacey's legs and , looking over and seeing my ass pointed up and exposed, decided he wanted a piece of my ass. He ripped open and rolled on a condom and climbed on the bed between my legs. I felt him coming and though "Oh shit, I'm not lubed up." That didn't stop Dave though. All I can say is thank goodness for lubricated condoms! LOL. It wasn't too bad thanks to being prepared before John showed up, so I may have been dry on the outside but inside I was still pretty lubed up. What little lubrication there was on the condom was enough to let him gain entry. After a brief stab of pain, he filled me with his cock. Lucky thing that I was ready cause Dave didn't waste any time at all. He started pounding into my ass while I sucked Mike. It was a little uncomfortable due to being caught unprepared but he only fucked me for about a minute before deciding to pull out. Perhaps he was about to come, I don't know, but Mike pulled out of my mouth and started rolling on a condom himself. And Dave stripped his off and moved around in front of me. "Oh boy," I thought, "here we go."

I jumped up real quick before Mike could get ready and ran to the bathroom to get a drop of lube. We have some REALLY good lube we got at an adult toy party and it only takes a drop. So I squeezed out a drop real fast, ran a finger across and in my asshole and ran back in. 

Mike didn't wait quite as long as I hoped and had moved over to Stacey on the other bed. Dave was still on his knees on the bed so I settled back down in front of him and sucked his cock back in my mouth with my ass back up in the air. In seconds, Rick, who already had a condom on, was behind me and slid his dick in my ass. He wasn't as quite in a rush as Dave and started fucking me with nice long, slow strokes. That only lasted about a minute though as, seeing that I was okay with it, he quickly settled into a steady rhythm, occasionally slowing down a second to shove it in deep and hold it, reach around and stroke my cock a little, and then back to the nice rhythm again. 

While this was going on, Mike had abandoned his condom and was letting Stacey suck his cock while Sean had rolled one on and was fucking Stacey. John had slipped out around this point somewhere to go back to work. 

So Rick is fucking my ass while I suck Dave and Stacey is being fucked by Sean while sucking Mike, who can't hold back any longer and unloads in Stacey's mouth. I can hear it happening from my bed and the whole situation is sexy as hell. Stacey disengages herself from Sean and comes over to where I am being sandwiched between these two nice cocks. She makes out with Dave while he fondles her tits and Rick continues to thrust in and out of my ass while I suck Dave. 

Stacey moves around the bed and drops down to help me suck on Dave and Rick starts to pound me harder but then pulls out before he cums. I shift over a little so I'm right on the corner of the bed with my ass in the air and Sean quickly replaced Rick in my ass. Rick moves behind Stacey and slides his cock into her dripping pussy while Stacey and I both feast on Dave's cock. 

Seeing that I'm nice and relaxed from the two cocks that have already been inside me, Sean sets up a nice hard rhythm in seconds and you can hear his hips slapping against my ass as he fucks me hard. I'm up on my hands enjoying the hell out of Sean in my ass and he reaches around and strokes my cock. Stacey is moaning around Dave's cock in her mouth as Rick works over her pussy. Rick thrusts harder and harder and Stacey moans loader as Rick fills his condom with cum deep inside Stacey's pussy. 

Mike, who had slipped off to the bathroom or something while all this is happening, dresses while watching this orgy on the bed and quietly slips out as Rick pulls out of Stacey and moves out of the way while Dave takes his place behind her. Sean continues to hold on to my hips and plow my ass like no one ever has before. I'm serious too. Most of our bi encounters have been pretty unrewarding when it comes to me getting a good ass fucking. But Sean was definitely giving me everything I could handle. It was everything I had hoped it would be when I finally found someone to fuck my ass good. The other two were good as well but Sean was doing the best for the longest so far and I loved every minute of it. So was Stacey, who was once again moaning from the fucking Dave was giving her and reaching out to caress and kiss me while we both enjoyed out partners.

Dave pulls out briefly and drops behind Stacey to lick her well fucked pussy and then shoves his cock back in and pounds her hard. I see Stacey reach back with her left hand and grab Dave's leg and pull him into her harder. This sets Dave off and he cums in Stacey's pussy. Sean couldn't hold back any longer and I could feel his cock throb as he filled his condom inside my ass. 

After Sean slowly pulled out of my ass, I got up to see everyone standing around out of breath. All this took place within about 45 minutes of the first guy coming in. It was awesome and I understand now why a lot of people seem to think that it was much longer.

"That was awesome guys. More than we dreamed it would be," I said.

Dave and Rick began to get dressed as they had to get back to work. Sean didn't have to work until later so he was in no hurry to leave and we didn't mind him sticking around. We had no plans to leave anytime soon either. We all chatted for a little while longer. All three of these guys were great and easy to talk to and we'd love to see them again and told them so. So Dave and Rick left and Sean hung out with us and we got to know him better. 

He was a young guy, around 23, and was very mature for his age. We talked to him for about 20 minutes and then, like I wish I still was today, the young buck was ready for more. I didn't hesitate to have him stand in front of me and let me suck his nice cock while Stacey watched. She can never just watch for long though and it only took her a few minutes to move behind him and caress him while I slid his cock in and out of my mouth.

I wasn't allowed to enjoy his cock too long though because my phone was going off with more guys checking in, so I moved to one of the beds and had Stacey get on all fours between my legs and suck my dick while Sean let her experience his condom covered cock yet again. I laid there texting from my phone while watching Sean behind her lovely ass. My dick was getting some much need attention from Stacey's lovely lips and wet mouth. Sean gave her a good fucking for at least 9 or 10 minutes before backing out. Stacey decided she wanted to lie down so, while Sean stopped to take a drink, Stacey lay down and I moved between her legs. I decided I need to get some pussy and Stacey had made my dick nice and hard from her oral ministrations, so I gratefully slid enter her and lay across her warm inviting body. Sean, however, wasn't done and decided my ass was too inviting to pass up. Now if you've ever tried this, it's not as easy as they make it sound and we've unsuccessfully tried this on many occasions. But Sean had a nice long dick and he was young and thin enough to get into position without too much trouble. 

After easing his dick into my ass, Sean quickly go into rhythm and Stacey would reach through and caress his arms as he held onto my hips or her legs. At one point, Sean wraps Lisa legs around his waist and as she pulls his hips forward he would grab my shoulders and thrust deep into my ass. This young stud again gave my ass a good pounding, shoving my cock into Stacey until I couldn't hold back any longer and my body convulses as I let go inside my wife's pussy. My orgasm gripped Sean's cock and milked it to another orgasm deep inside my ass. 

Two orgasms were enough for Sean and he got dressed and left, but not until we let him know we'd love to see him again soon. This left Stacey and I alone for the first time in over an hour but our break was short lived. In less than 10 minutes, two more guys showed up and we let them in the room. Darren I had talked to for most of the past two days so we felt at ease with him already. Peter had only stopped by to meet us and couldn't stay long but hoped to get together with us another time. We could tell he was nervous so we just sat and chatted awhile, trying to put everyone at ease. Peter only stayed about 5 minutes though and then left. We continued to talk with Darren, who I had also allowed to invite another friend, Jack, but who wouldn't show up until much later. 

20 minutes later, we were still talking with Darren when Jeff and Mark show up. Now at this point I was relaxing on one bed while Darren sat in a chair at the foot of the bed I was on. Stacey was sitting on the other bed. Jeff came in and sat with me on the bed and Mark sat in a chair by Stacey's bed. We talked for a few minutes more and then Stacey decided to get the action rolling again. 

Stacey goes over to Darren and starts messing with him and eventually winds up between his legs sucking his cock. Jeff and Mark are both off work and in no rush so we continue to talk and watch. Eventually I flip around on the bed and start messing with Stacey's ass and pussy. It's not long before Jeff joins me. We keep messing with her and Mark keeps watching until Stacey eventually makes Darren cum and she swallows it all just like I knew she would. 

Well, that signals the end to break time for the rest of us and I get Jeff to lay back and shed his pants. Out pops the biggest dick we would see all day. This guy is carrying around a log! Stacey goes and sits in Mark's lap for a bit while they and Darren watch me suck Jeff's humongous dick. It isn't long, however, before Stacey turns around and strips Mark of his pants. He is carrying one almost as big as Jeff and Stacey wastes no time going down on him. She sucks his cock for a few minutes before he decides he wants some of her pussy. Stacey gets up and lays back on the bed and Mark dives between her legs and begins to feast. I'm still working away on Jeff's cock and my jaws are starting to feel it. Darren eventually moves over to Stacey's head and feeds her his cock again. For the next ten minutes, Darren keeps Stacey's mouth busy on his cock while Mark fingers and licks Stacey to her delight. I bear with it and am still hungrily sucking Jeff for all I'm worth.




Being Bi for the Wife



Mark finally rises up and Darren breaks away. "I got to get to work guys," he says, "but that was great." Stacey jumps up and comes and relieves me on Jeff's cock and I decide to take a turn on Mark's. Like I said, Mark is almost as big as Jeff, but not quite so this is a lot easier now and I am slurping away on this nice juicy dick. Most of the other dicks were nice and smooth but it doesn't seem that Mark shaves his shaft like the rest as I fight through a few hairs. After Jeff's monster, I don't really mind so much though and enjoy this new cock in my mouth. 

After a while though I think I'm ready for this cock in my ass. I reach for a condom and roll it on to his cock. I then get on the bed on all fours and present my ass to him. "Why don't you come here and put that cock to good use," I tell him. Mark gets behind me and eases his cock into my already well-fucked ass. I push back against him and let him know that I'm ready for it and don't hold back. Mark gets it and starts fucking me like he wants to cum. I'm good with that and I feel him put his hands on my back just above my ass and go to town. I keep rocking back, taking as much of his dick as I can get. It's feeling up my ass and it feels wonderful.

Stacey hears the motion and looks over to see Mark plowing into my ass. She wants a better look so she brings Jeff over to the chair beside our bed and has him sit in it. I watch as she sucks him some more and then tries to put a condom on his cock. I know she wants badly to feel it stretching her pussy. Problem is, the damn condom won't fit. He is literally that big and we didn't bring any magnums. Stacey says "Fuck it, I gotta feel it," and straddles his huge cock and eases it into her pussy. I don't particular care for her fucking his uncovered cock but watching Stacey ride Jeff's cock is a hug turn-on for me and Mark both. I feel his hands slide off my back and around to my hips and he starts pulling me back onto his cock even harder. It seconds I feel his cock swell inside my ass as he drops his load into his condom. Damn, I would love to feel that flood my insides but we know that it's better safe than sorry. Still, I relish every second of his cock throbbing inside my ass as I watch my wife ride a huge cock. As soon as Mark pulls out, I crawl over to Stacey and Jeff and she eases off his cock. I immediately take as much as I can in my mouth, enjoying the taste of Stacey's pussy coating his cock. I suck and lick it all over, cleaning every part of her I can find. 

Mark gets dressed to leave, saying he has some other commitments to attend to. Jeff sticks around and we do manage to get a condom on his cock and he fucks us for at least two hours. Mostly Stacey but at one point he asked me if I'd like to try and I said "yes, but take it easy on me." That wasn't to be though, as Stacey got behind him while he was in my ass and started pushing on his hips, making him fuck me harder and faster. I got the ride of my life right there and I thought I was gonna go crazy, but I forced myself to concentrate and boy did I enjoy that. Stacey was going bat shit crazy and her pussy was literally leaking. This was a main part of her fantasy to have me fucked by several cocks until I was built up to take a big one just like this. And fuck me he did. It was awesome. 

I'm going to wrap this up here because everything up to this point was fucking awesome and couldn't be topped by the rest of the night, but there were three other guys that showed up later and we had fun with all of them until about 6:30 or 7. When the last guy left, I fucked Stacey for about twenty minutes before getting my second and final nut. Stacey and I cleaned up, packed up, and headed home. That was a day we will never forget and we wanted to share it with the rest of you. Hope you enjoyed it. Every bit of it was true, with names changed to protect those that partied with us, but the timeline is as accurate as I could possibly make it. Feel free to let me/us know what you thought.



Being Blacked is Fabulous



Dear reader, this is an interracial story with a lesbian section too. A nasty man loses big time. 

*

I was having the time of my life, I had been battered most of the night, and been told that after a good rest I would be getting some more. And, he had told me I wouldn't be going home any time soon. My husband thought I was being held against my will. 

Well I wasn't, but I had made sure he thought I was, this had been a long time coming, it was payback time, and payback as most of us know, is a Bitch! He had brought this all on himself with his continuing womanising, and trying to make me a part of his stupid 'scene.'

Well I had joined in, but not in the way he had expected or even thought of. The big man was about to be hit where it would hurt him the most, especially to him. His pride, face, status, standing, all the things that matter to a man who thinks he knows it all. Who thinks he is the centre of the universe, my universe too. It used to be that way, but not now, oh no, certainly not now. I was with the man he hated most in the world. The man who I had eventually realised, was a charming and caring person.

But when I had first met him he had come across as an arrogant know all, a bit like John my husband. John had me as his trophy wife, hanging on his arm, looking good just for him. Laugh at his jokes, smile and be nice to all of his friends and acquaintances. I didn't have much time for mine nowadays; he wanted me at his beck and call.

And it all began to change when he got it into his head that we should swing. I told him in no uncertain terms what he could do about that. He thought I wasn't serious; he just carried on with it as if I had nodded my head like one of those dogs you see in the back of a car! He actually brought a couple round to our house to meet me. I was amazed to say the least.

She was nice looking, but nothing more than a tart, he was just plain horrible. I threw a real dickey fit and made them leave. John was not a happy camper, he asked me what was wrong, why wasn't I okay with it? I was too shocked to answer him, and that's when I knew something had to be done. But I wasn't in the position where I could do a lot; he had every thing battened down.

I had no money of my own to speak of, the house was in my name for tax reasons etc, but that was a no no as far as selling it behind his back, he would kill me. He is what many would call a rogue, but truth be known, he was and is a crook, he's into all sorts, I have never known him to be in what you would call a real job that paid a wage.

John is a great looking bloke, terrific looking, manly, masculine, rugged, tall, well built, hard, you name it, it was him. He was from a 'bad' family and he took it all forward, I met him at the age of 20 and we got married a year later, I was thrilled to be chosen, he was the guy all the girls went gaga for. I smirked for a full year on the back of it. I was now at the top table with my great looking husband. Which was until, I found out about all the things he was up to, all the naughty things he did and got away with, he regarded himself as untouchable.

Don't get me wrong, I did love all the trappings that came with it, the money, the holiday, the houses, the cars, the jewellery, you name it, it was ours. But I was never comfortable with it, and I always tried to distance myself as much as I could as we went further into our marriage. And I also began to realise what I was there for, it was for him and not for us.

So now today, I am in the one place on the planet where he can't get to me, touch me, or even threaten me really, not now. But I'll come to that. About a year ago a guy moved into the area that was bigger than my John in terms of muscle, back up, and simply out of town support, someone, they? Had decided to move in and take piece of the action as it were. It went on for months, battles, fights, confrontations, until it was settled somehow. John was never happy, not one bit. But there wasn't anything he could do it seemed, they had the wherewithal, John's crew didn't.

A little about me now, I'm Kelly, 24 years old, been married nearly 4 years, no children, petite to the point of beautiful. I suppose that's why John chose me, I see that now, didn't do a lot for my ego when I realised it either! I have long blond hair that I take great care of, it my pride and joy, it runs to a taper down between my shoulder blades, I wear it down most of the time, but it can and does look really stylish when I have it piled onto the top of my 5ft 7" frame.

My big blue eyes highlight my face, John calls them blue headlights! I have high cheek bones, full lips, and a body that works in every which way. My nipples are a terror sometimes; they can track my thoughts and arrive at arousal before I do. My vagina is my best hidden feature, I keep it smooth as a babies bottom, I love the sensuous feel of silk on skin, its wonderful. And I am blessed with legs that don't go in and out like a limb on a chestnut tree, they travel swiftly and elegantly from hip to toe.

I have been propositioned many times but because of John, tempted or not I have refused all offers. Under normal circumstances I might have accepted a couple of invitations when he has been away, but the real risk of serious retribution was always in my mind.

So I lived the life of a socialite, not in the 'right' circles we were never allowed into those, John was well known to the police so we were never invited to dignitary type functions. But we still lived the high life. But as I said earlier, John was making a wrong move without knowing it.

So he started swinging by himself, thinking I would follow, but I had no intention of ever going down that path. I was though beginning to think of how I could get out of my marriage without ending up in a land fill. He started bringing, women home, and men and women, girls. I hated it and I hated him for doing this to me, wasn't I good enough any more, wasn't I as attractive as I used to be.

Then the turn around, the man that had moved into the city to claim part of the action began to undermine John, he was tempting his people away through bribes and coercion. But the man wanted John on side for his know how and his criminal contacts. John was offered a choice, move in, or be moved out.

He would still run everything, take all the decisions, make his money, and nothing on the face of it would be any different. Use it or lose it was about the top and bottom of it. He never explained everything in this way, I just sussed it out from phone calls, visits, communications and all of that sort of thing.

John had no choice, he had lost face, but he had lost face to himself, no one seemed to know. The hatred he had for his competitor, who was now his boss was palpable. But he had to go through the motions, meetings were held. John met the real people behind his new man. And even he knew it was over, go or stay, he chose reluctantly to stay.

I was introduced to the new mafia type people, I didn't know how else to think of them. I didn't know what was going on any more. I met his boss for the first time. His name was Kala, what that meant I had no idea. And he was black; Now I knew why John hated him as much as he did, he is a racist of manic proportions, he had blacks working for him, but he never dealt with them or associated with them either. 

I had never been up close to one before so that put me off him too. He seemed to take a shine to me, and kept me close. I don't mean he had me held to his side, just that wherever I was, he seemed to be.

I knew it was because I was blond and good looking, and if I may say so, as sexy as hell. John was so used to men wanting me, and him showing me off, he never even batted an eye at him. But I could see his eyes rarely left John, he told me later, 'My favourite maxim is, (keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer.')

We met several times over the next few months, things settled, John still hated him, but I was getting used to him and I was starting to actually like him. Don't start thinking I was up for black, I wasn't, I had never in my life have it cross my mind, not once. But over several months my attitude to him gradually changed for the better.

It was John who got me to where I am now, I know you'll think of me as weak, and I suppose you could be right. He didn't know he was doing it, but he did. He literally drove me into his arms. He insisted more and more about swinging, I was still dead set against it and wouldn't budge. That's when John hit me for the first time. It was a slap that sent me over the back of a sofa, I landed in a dazed heap not realising what had happened.

He apologised, but said, "I'm not messing here Kelly. I want you to do it, or else!" And it was the 'or else,' that did it for me. I told him that I would think about it, just to make sure he didn't whack me again. I was so shocked I couldn't think straight, I tried to think of some one I could call for advice, help, and to talk to. Later I phoned Kala, I couldn't think of any one else who might be able to offer me protection from the future.

I talked to him and told him I had trouble I couldn't deal with and I needed serious assistance. I met him the following day, he came to my house. John was out on business. He knew about the swinging thing, but said it wasn't his thing. I thanked him for that. I then told him I wanted out, away from John anyway, but didn't know what to do. I cried then, I felt so desolate, lonely, sad and frightened. He put his arm around me, if John could have seen me sitting on his sofa in his house being comforted by the man he hated with a vengeance, god knows what he would have done.

"Let me think for a while Kelly," he said, his arm wrapped around me, I knew he was feeling for me. "I'll get back to you. But first I want to know from you, do you want him gone, and gone for good?"

"Yes," I said, "I do, oh god no, not like that. I don't want anything to happen to him."

"I didn't mean that either Kelly, as I'm sure you are aware, there is no love lost between us. He doesn't like me, I've tried but it's a waste of time. He's good at what he does but he's not indispensable either. I can have him moved, but would you like some payback too?"

"Oh Kala," I told him, "you ask would I? You bet I would, he's been so awful to me, he shouldn't be that way. I have never done anything to him for me to deserve this." I cried again. 

I had no idea I was going where I was going, neither in my head, nor in reality. I do know that for the first time in a very long time, I felt a little reassurance from someone other than my own mind.

What he had in mind was a real ball breaker, I didn't like it at first but he convinced me eventually. And he told me, it was the only sure fire way I could be free of him and his clutches. But it took a lot of soul searching, and actually doing what he suggested was more than I had ever been prepared to go.

It also led me to Kala, and er something else, but that will come later too. Kala said to me. 

"Kelly, you have to obey me in every way for this to work, it is going to stun you, even horrify you I suppose, but you will never be in any danger, you will not be harmed in any way, you have my word. You can say no right now, I will leave, that will be that. But if you give your trust to me, he will be gone, and you will win, you will have your payback, your revenge. And," he added, "I will get rid of someone I personally despise."

"What do I have to do Kala?" The light at the end of the tunnel suddenly got a bit brighter, but I was in no way ready for what he told me.

"You will be my prisoner, you will be tied up and apparently sexually assaulted by me, although he won't know it's me, he will receive film and photos of in various positions at the mercy of a big black man. He will see things apparently being done to you, he will believe it."

All I could do was look at him, I was dumbstruck, he smiled at me, put his big hand on my knee and said softly.

"Trust me Kelly, if you can't or don't want to, fine, I'll go, okay?"

"I want to believe you Kala, but can I, can I really trust you?"

"His pride won't let him believe anything else than what he sees, he will see you swinging with a black master, he will go bananas, he will be told you are not coming back by you, you will tell him you are owned by a black man, and you will not come back."

"What if I don't like it once it starts,"? I asked. I couldn't believe I was really thinking of doing this.

"You will be free to go, but think hard about it, this is a one time deal." He said.

"When?" was my only question.

"Friday morning, I will come for you, and pack all you need, I promise you Kelly, you won't even contemplate returning."

"You said you could make him leave, how?" I asked.

"He will be offered place in London, an offer he will not refuse I assure you."

"I'll call you on Thursday; I have to think about this, please?"

He agreed and left, but not before he gave me a kiss, it wasn't a huge one, but it definitely was a proper kiss, and I liked it, it thrilled me.

I already knew I was going to do it, I just played for time, plan my departure and all that. But I had no idea of what I was stepping into, the prisoner I was about to become, even though I learned to love it very quickly. In fact I became more than a prisoner; I became a slave, and a very willing one.

He came for me, I had packed all my personal belongings, the clothes I felt I needed. And I walked out without once looking back. I hated him now, being near him made me crawl, I was stumped to try and understand how I had actually believed that I loved him, I loathed him totally now!

Kala left a type written note for John, and gave me a copy to read in the car. And did it make me smile!

We travelled at least a hundred miles to my new destination.

'John,' it began, ' I have finally decided to do what you have wanted me to do for months. I am with a lovely man, he's a beautiful sexy black man, and his wife is even more beautiful than I, but in her feline sexy black way.' I looked Kala when I read that, he just smiled and nodded his head for me to read on. 

I am staying with them for the weekend to try it out, but I know I will enjoy it, I tried to say no, but he has captured me this morning and taken me away.' Even I laughed at that statement, what would he really believe, he wasn't daft. 'But,' I continued in my letter, 'I already I know it is going to be good, even if it is essentially against my will. Just wait until you receive the first set of photos, I know you will love them John.'

'Thinking of you thinking of me.' it finished.

Kelly x x x x

When we arrived Kala took me inside, he made me feel at home, showed me to a bedroom, "you can put your things away Kelly, and I'll see you downstairs." He told me. I did as he said, washed my face etc, made sure I was looking good. I wore a mini, and a sexy top with me heels I stood tall, sexy, and beautiful.

I went down and he came to me, he took me in his arms, and said.

"This is something I have wanted to do for so long." I felt safe for the first time in a long long time. We made small talk, then we came around to why I was here.

"There is only one thing to do Kelly," he said, "and that's to get on with it, are you ready?"

I gave him a long look, and said, "Yes Kala I am, lets get going." He took me by my hand and led me back upstairs. He took me into a beautifully furnished bedroom that told me immediatekly that it had been done and was a woman's room. I never said anything but I knew he hadn't done this.

There were three video cameras on tripods in three different corners. Also three or four still cameras on the side table. I stood there taking in what I was about to do. 

"He won't know its me Kelly, I will edit the film and stills to remove identification, don't worry." He knew what was on my mind.

He set all the cameras going, and then came to me. He took me in his arms and kissed me, my head exploded, I hadn't expected my response like this, in fact I hadn't expected the kiss at all. But it took me by real surprise because I liked it, it was warm, tender, powerful, and soft, all at once. I just stood there like a clod! My first kiss from a another man other than my husband since I had married, and he was black, John would go potty. His jealousy would go orbital, his rage immense, god knows what he'll do I thought briefly as I sank to my seduction.

He started to undress me.

"Struggle a little Kelly," he whispered, "make it look like you are unsure." I did as he told me, I twisted this way and that. Kala took more hold on me, I struggled, twisted and turned again, but he increased his power over me too. It grew from there, soon I really was struggling, and he forced my clothes from me. He had his back to the cameras and smiled at me quickly, he was letting me know I was okay.

Then he threw me on to the bed, by the time I had righted myself he was taking his trousers off. That's when I saw my first black cock. I just gaped at it; it was growing before my very eyes. Then he was on me, all over me like a rash.

"Fight me gently," he whispered in my ear, "the mic is picking it all up for him." Feeling this man over me, this, I could see now, this powerful man, this black man was almost too much. I was looking at my white skin on his black, my blond hair flailing around. 

It turned me on, I couldn't help it, I was feeling as sexy as I ever had for a long time. I was hot, hotter that hot, I was burning up in flames, he kissed me, I kissed him back.

"I can't fight you any more, please, just do what you want to me. I don't care, please do it, please please?" I said more loudly than I needed to, but I had to, I was up the fucking tree for him. It was the most heart felt plea I had ever uttered, I wanted him to make love to me so badly it was killing me.

I fought him alright, I grabbed his cock and oh did it feel good, it burned the skin from my hand, it was throbbing, pulsing, it was alive, hard and heavy, it compelled me to beg silently for it. I tugged it as hard as I could to me, I wanted in me as quickly as possible. Kala got over me and in he went, it was the biggest I had ever had, it silenced me for a while. I must have looked a picture, stricken, played out, prone, open, legs akimbo, feet in the air, arms spread wide in submission, ready to be mastered, and did I get mastered? I did!

Kala humped into oblivion, I had John's face in my mind watching me being rutted like he never had done, and by dark chocolate, now I wanted the milk, his cream. He made me his in that moment in time, his prick crashed into me, breaking and bending me to him. I didn't know it until later when he told me to do something just how far I had gone, and how far into him I was. I cried out as orgasms broke me into pieces, they riddled my whole body and mind, completely taking me over.

He spewed his cum into me without thought of any consequences, John and I were using condoms, Kala didn't, and I didn't care, I wanted to feel cum burning through me, fill me, swell me, boil me alive, and that's exactly what happened, it did for me completely.

When the marbles in my head stopped spinning and I could breathe, I opened my eyes to see him smiling at me.

"Okay?" he asked gently.

"I have never in my life felt better than I do now," and I was telling the truth too.

"Good, now stay here I have work to do, have a rest if you wish, then go for a shower, then prepare yourself for some still photos." He told me. He got up went to the cameras and took them away, he came back 2 hours later smiling, "the film is fantastic Kelly, I'll show you it later but first we have to get some still shots of you tied up, okay?"

I looked at him apprehensively, but nodded my head, I wasn't too sure about this, but I trusted him already. This would cement my trust, or kill everything, I thought. He told me to wear sexy underwear, and stocking, I did. Then he told me to lie down and put my arms out wide, then my feet. I did as he told me and soon I was spread eagled and captive.




Being Blacked is Fabulous



He looked at me so sexily, I felt the heat in my chest again. He took several shots of me, telling me to twist and turn, try to hide my face. He climbed over me and tweaked my nipples, I tried to pretend I didn't want it, but it was so difficult knowing what he had done to me earlier. He photo'd his fingers twisting my nipples one at a time, then stroking me. He was driving me nuts; I stared up at him begging him, for the camera to stop.

Next he got down on me sliding backwards and my fanny got it, thick black fingers invading me, feeling my smooth pussy lips take fire. He snapped away at me and his fingers, I lifted my head to watch, it was mesmeric, so tantalising, erotic, He snapped my face, bright red, flushed, on fire, mouth open, teeth bared, eyes flashing wildly.

He nipped my clit and I screamed out, it was like being hit by a car, a buffeting 100mile an hour wind. "No, no please don't, oh god no!" I cried out. There was no play acting now. I was up the rigging right at the top and about to be blasted off it. My fanny felt like a pool of boiling roiling lava, red, white hot, spewing forth as I came cum after cum.

I couldn't stand it any more, I burst into tears of unbridled submission, I begged him to, "stop, not to stop, do me, free me, let me go, fuck me, do anything but please don't torture me any more this way." He made me cum many more time before I got my desperate wish granted. I had never loved being sexed as much as this, my husband was nothing more than a mere boy compared to Kala. There was no way now I would ever again think of going back to John; my future was here, right on top of me.

Then I got screwed again, he just piled into me, I was helpless and defenceless, Kala really did go for it and me. I wasn't given any consideration, no thought, no respite, he just plain fucked me half to death, when he stopped I was nothing, lifeless. The term rag doll, and I, became good friends that weekend.

I opened my eyes to find my bonds had gone, along with Kala, I went to sleep where I was. I knew I had to wait for him; I didn't need to be told now. I felt myself being shaken awake. It was him, he had a drink for me, he let me wake up and then told me to come to his office down the hall when I was ready to. I dashed into the shower again, put on a little make up, put on some more underwear and went to him.

He had a chair for me, I sat next to him, I sat as close as I could without actually sitting on him. Then he turned on the film. I sat there and watched from different angles being forcibly and inexorably seduced, then ultimately screwed and fucked.

I saw myself struggle against him, but he overpowered me, I fought a little, I saw myself being thrown on to the bed, him undressing, me gawking at his wonderful black heavenly cock. Then I saw me grabbing it, tugging him to me, begging for it and him. Then the best, I watched myself get fucked like being fucked had just been invented. 

The cameras caught him fantastically, my legs were high and wide, and I watched in amazement as his thick heavy black meaty prick blew in and out of me. The lips of my pussy were turned in the out as he thrust home and pulled back for another one. My love juice sparkled on me as he slid forcefully in and out. The blackness of him sent me into climax again sat right there!

The contrast of me and him was over whelming, his muscular black rump tightening and slackening off as he drove in and out was too much, it blew me apart again. And then the moment of them all, I saw him fucking his sperm into me, and me collecting it all. I could see my own body convulsing as I sucked it from him into my waiting womb.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting in his lap, arms tight around him, and saying.

"Kala, I don't ever want to go back, I have to, I need to, to stay here with you, I'll do anything you tell me, I will never say no, I promise, please Kala please?"

"Yes Kelly, I already know that, and that is why you are already here, if I hadn't been sure of you, you wouldn't be here in the first place!" It was a statement, not a comment, it suddenly made me realise where I was, who I was with, and where I was going, or I thought I did.

"Have a look at the stills Kelly, they are ready to be e mailed to him, then the film, think he'll like it, them?" he laughed. "Oh," he added, "and there isn't one showing my face, how unreal is that then?" I stared at them, I saw a woman in utter ecstasy, utter arousal, tied helplessly by her master. My head was thrown back, then it was up in fabulous agony, I could see all my own emotions being beaten out of me by those black invasive fingers. I heard in my head, me begging him to stop, not to stop, do me, anything but do/don't stop. I felt the power of my orgasms all over again as I stared at the photos.

"Ready to hit the send button Kelly?" he asked.

"Oh Kala, yes, but can I write a message too please?"

"But of course you can," he replied, "as long as it is one word, and that word is 'HELP!'

I knew what he was doing, I had forgotten the reason for all this, I wrote:- HELP JOHN! Then I hit the send button, Kala took my phone and sent a text to him, saying, 'you have e mail.'

Two hours later John called me. I answered just how Kala had told me to, breathless, worn out, defeated.

"Kelly where are you, what's going on, who has you, tell me, I will free you and kill the black bastard." I smiled, 'gotcha!' I told myself, Kala smiled too.

"I don't know who it is, or where I am John, I'm helpless," I huskily told him, "I'm tied to a bed and I can't get free, he has had me all day, he is next to me now. Then I spoke to my attacker for John's benefit.

'Oh don't,' I breathed down the phone as Kala rucked my pussy. 'Please stop, oh nooooo,' I moaned letting out a small orgasm for my husband.

"Kelly," he shouted down the phone, "try and resist, I know you can do it." I gave out the kind of moaning groan that he is all too well aware of, me cumming. 

"I can't stop him John, he is making me cum when ever he wants to, its too late, I've had it. He has told me that once I go black, I will never go back, and John," I mumbled, "I'm starting to believe him." John had gone silent, I listened to him breathing, 'take that you bastard,' I told him in my head. I waited for him to speak as I grunted softly down the phone to him, nothing! So I improvised.

"Please not again," I whispered, "you have screwed me four times today, I can't take any more, please?" But my opposition was weak and timorous. Kala really did plonk his prick into me to make it even more real. I moaned heavenly. I could hear John gasping for breath, he was beaten, for the first time I had bettered the bastard.

"Oh," I gushed into the phone, "hmmmm, oh yes, Arggggh, oooooh, oh please yes yes yessssss." I hissed, there was no acting here again I assure you. I hit the stop button and threw the phone away.

"Please Kala fuck me into heaven, please Kala, make me never go back, I am black Kala, I love black, make me love it." And he did, I got screwed beyond being screwed, it was the best thing to have ever happened to me in my life, I had never wanted more than this.

The next morning there were 32 missed calls on my phone from John over night. I sent him a new text, 'you have e mail,' was all it said. Kala had sent the film an hour ago. I waited for a reply, but it was several hours before I got one, but by then I was too busy. I was making another film for John, and this one would definitely blow his boots off, I know it did to me!

We made love in the morning, I got to explore his body, I felt every inch of him, I kissed and paid homage to him, my super star, my hero, my man, and now my master. I had said to him, "Kala, I have never wanted to be like this, I had no idea I could even feel this way, but I do and I love it, and I want to do it for you."

"What's that then Kelly?" he said.

"I want to be owned by you, belong to you, serve you, learn to love you, in short I want to be your slave girl, sir" I added.

"Yes Kelly, I already know you do, there is nothing I don't already know about you, that's why I chose you, I found you months ago, you just needed showing the way."

To say I couldn't speak was a contradiction in terms, I was dumb totally. I just gaped at him, my mouth must have opened and closed like a garage door. I flopped back down on the bed stunned. He pulled me over him, gathered my hands behind my back and tied them, then he spanked me, it was hard and it hurt. I cried and wailed, but I also knew he could hit me a lot harder if he wanted to. I realised this was a lesson in obedience, don't obey, and this is what you'll get it said. I understood no problem.

That afternoon I was introduced to his wife, I still had my hands tied behind my back, I didn't question the reason. I had never met her, but I don't think I have ever seen a more beautiful or sexy woman as she. She introduced herself as Tanya, Kala's wife of two years, "but we have a sort of arrangement Kelly," she told me. I wasn't really listening; I was just looking at her, taking her in. I was in total awe.

She was at least 6ft tall, weighed I guessed around 20lbs more than me. She was beautifully proportioned, her body magnificent, her face as stunning as any woman's face can be. She had huge big eyes that flashed at me, pools of deep dark shadows. High arching eye brows. Flaring cheekbones, full swept back lips, a slender chin, a swan like neck. 

Large prominent breasts that seemed to defy gravity, a slim waist, rounded hips and legs that disappeared into the sunset. She flowed in and out, her body was like waves on the ocean. Her hair was pulled tight back, and up into a pony tail on the top of her head, the balance of it waved down and rested on her shoulders. Her skin was as smooth as glass, shiny, soft glistening with life and vitality.

But it was the way she was dressed that got me, I had never in my life known that a woman as beautiful as she was, could make herself look the way Tanya had. She was wearing thigh high black patent leather high heeled boots, which raised her to about 10 or 12 inches over my 5ft 7" frame. Her skirt was a tiny mini, soft black calf leather, and a top of the same material covered her ample breasts and finished just below them hiding her charms from view. She was wearing black shiny cotton gloves that ended above her elbows. Around her neck was fastened a calf leather strap choker.

I almost fell down before her, stunned wasn't the word for it. Here I was totally for the first time in my life by another woman, and I had already guessed that she was here for more than introductions. It was then that I noticed she had a riding crop in her right hand, now I knew! But I didn't care.

Tanya walked around me 3 or 4 times, inspecting me? 

"Nice Kala, very nice, I'm going to enjoy her, does she know?" she poke to him, Kala was sat in a chair silent but observing.

"No not yet, but Kelly isn't a fool, she will have guessed by now, I hope she has anyway." He answered her. I had, oh yes I really had, and my pussy was cheering, I could hear it.

"Come with me Kelly," she said, and swished my ass with the crop, Tanya walked out of the room, I hurried after her. But she didn't walk, she floated and flowed, glided even, across the floor. She waltzed up stairs and into the bedroom where the cameras were, my fanny blew apart, now I was certain what was going to happen, I was going to be filmed again doing and being made to do? What ever they had in store for me.

Kala got behind one of the cameras, and pointed it at me. I was staring at Tanya in absolute fear, apprehension and utter arousal. Knowing that I was as helpless as a child, under their, hers and his complete control, fired me in a way that crippled me. I was a captive, their sex toy. I praised the lord for doing this to me, for sending me here, for giving me this gift.

Tanya grabbed me by my hair, I winced but accepted it, then I was being pushed to the floor. She stood over me, magnificent, a towering female force of nature. I watched in fascination as she popped the 2 studs that held her skirt, it fell to the floor, she was naked underneath, and like me, shaved smooth. I stared at her black, pink and red vagina lips glistening. Using her two forefingers she spread it, I knew I was looking at heaven. I have never been this close to another woman, I was entranced at the sight, and her perfume. 

Then 2 more pops and the top fell off, I was now looking up at her beautiful pointed high breasts, the nipples silhouetted against the ceiling above me, I had a small orgasm on my knees.

"First Kelly, I have to tell you how it is, how it is going to be, you will have one question to answer, yes or no, nothing else, understand me so far?" she said, and swished me with the crop again. I thought briefly of how to answer.

"Yes, and added, "mistress."

"Good," she said, standing inches from me, I could smell her sex, it was mind numbing, "now, Kala as you will have guessed correctly is your master now, your man, your guy, you already know that so you don't really need to be reminded of it. You will at all times defer to him. But I will be your mistress, I will not, now or ever, mistreat you, you will just be you. Is that part clear so far?"

"Yes mistress."

"There will be times in the future that you may not like or agree with, but you will accept it as a part of our lives. You will not be a slave to me or to Kala, you will have as normal a life as possible, but you will be subservient to us, to me, and to him, and to anything else we may tell you, clear?"

"Yes mistress," I was getting used to this. 

"Now Kelly, is there anything I have said, you don't like, disagree with or feel you cannot go with, the answer is to be either. Yes mistress, I am happy with it all, or no mistress, I am not happy with it all. Think and give me your answer, you have 30 seconds, if it is an answer in the negative, you can leave at your timing, is that clear, do you understand, is there anything you need clarifying?" 

I took all of 3 seconds, and that was to draw breath.

"Yes mistress, I am happy with it all, oh yes yes yes mistress, and you sir" I crooned, as I looked across at Kala.

In all my life I had never even thought of such as this, but in retrospect, I was subservient to John wasn't I? I had/was his trophy wife, his toy, I always did what he told me, but I hadn't seen 'me!' I didn't even now feel slavish, I was me, but I was also now in a place I had never been, and do you know what? I liked it, I liked it a lot.

Tanya got hold of my hair, helped me to my feet and walked me to the bed, I climbed on, Kala was at a camera filming, the other two were already I knew, trained on to it. My hands were still tied behind me, but I was comfortable with it, I even gloried in being her captive. She turned me onto my back and climbed on me, facing away, I was about to be creamed or whatever it is called when a woman is mounted like this by another. I was peering at her tight crinkly little bum hole, around that was her rounded taut tight ass, her skin shone, dark, bright, beautiful and just beyond that, her pussy lips.

Her smell pervaded me, then it got dark, she was lowering herself on to me. I opened my mouth, nature was taking over. I tasted her for the first time, as I tried to get my tongue into her she squeezed my nipples, I blew up like an unexploded bomb! I know my body arched under her, I went rigid with arousal, and this was and remains to this day fabulously wonderful. The smoothness of her was tantalising me.

I had my eyes open , I was looking at her skin, so sexy it drove daft, I wanted to use my hands to feel her, caress her, love her. She moved a little and I knew her bum hole was right over my mouth. I obeyed the unsaid instruction and struck. My tongue popped in, I could see and taste her, my nipples were being given the treatment, fingers found my clit, I came all over. I sucked and licked, and probed as deep as I could get my tongue up into her beautiful dark ass.

I'm sure I made her cum, it send shivers of delight through me, I was pleasing her, my mistress. She slid back and mashed her sweet smelling vagina over my face and fucked her self on me. Tanya was wrecking me with her fingers and nails, I came and came again. Her mastery of me wasn't taken; it was given with all my love. I was gasping for breath under her as she forced herself down on me.

Then she slid away and lay next to me. "Well Kelly, what do you think, do you believe you can handle this, me, him?" she nodded in Kala's direction.

"I can't wait for every episode to begin," I breathed to her.

"Good, now I am going to untie you for a while, I want you to make yourself as beautiful as you can and sexy, okay?"

"Yes mistress," I answered.

"I am only mistress in here, in the house I am Tanya, but there will be times when mistress is necessary." She told me.

"I understand mistress," I replied smiling, my face was covered in her love juices so I licked my lips for her.

She untied me and I went to do myself, my pussy was on fire, I wanted to finish what she had started, but she must have read my mind.

"And leave yourself alone, Kala wants you ready for a photo shoot, and that," she said, pointeing at my pussy, "needs to be hot!"

"Yes mistress," I said, smiling, but wanting to scratch my devastating itch.

I showered, powdered myself, did my hair and my face. If there's one thing I do know, its how to make myself look good, and I made it the best for them I had ever done. Even Tanya was impressed.

"Wow Kelly, you look utterly adorable and so delectable, I could eat you right now," she told me.

"Yes mistress," I said in reply cheekily, "any time you are ready I am?"

"Later honey, but now we have to pose some, okay?" I nodded my shaggy blond haired head. She had put her skirt and top back on, she looked fabulous, so femininely sexy, but with and air of assured self confidence.

I was totally naked, she put a choker around my neck and led me by the lead attached to it into camera view. I acted a little scared, and submissive. Tanya absolutely towered over me, and dressed like she was she would scare any man on earth to death, never mind a timid married woman like me.

She swished me with her crop and pointed to the floor, I deliberately hesitated, she swished me again, I sank down to my knees. She stepped one leg over me and my face was buried into her smooth glorious hairless snatch. The cameras were catching all of it, John would go ape shit!

His wife was being sexually abused and taken by a black, but beautiful Amazon. "On your hands and knees bitch!" she ordered me. I did, she rattled my ass with the crop, on film it looked painful but it never hurt at all, I actually wished it had?

Then she mounted me, and cracked the crop on my ass, "mush," she shouted, "move," Holding my hair in one hand and cracking my ass I moved with her astride me, I was loving it. But on camera my humiliation was there for all to see. I trailed in circles around the floor, then I felt action at my own ass, my head dropped when I felt something enter me, then starting to buzz, she had pushed a vibrator up me.

"Mistress," I wailed for effect, "pleeeeeease." She reached under me, got my nipples and then my clit, that and the vib sent me over the top. Then I was being spanked too. I had the most fabulous time under her. Then she was climbing off me, I had my hands tied behind me again and I was made to climb onto the bed.

That's when I got it big time, in my ordered upright position, Tanya got behind me and Kala moved in in front of me. He bashed his black prick into my mouth and began to face fuck me, I knew it was all for the cameras. He was holding my head and pumped in and out, when I saw the film, you could see my cheeks billowing out as he forced it in, and sinking in when he pulled it out, erotic never came into it.




Being Blacked is Fabulous



Behind me Tanya was biting my neck and shoulders, her right arm bent at the elbow was murdering my nipples, her left was busy busting and decimating my pussy. Every erogenous zone I had was under attack, there was nothing I could do, and I still had that vibrator up my ass doing its worst too! They were driving me to distraction. Then Kala's grip on me tightened and he shot a load of hot creamy spunk into me, I swallowed as hard as I could, it spit out of the sides of my mouth, I tried my hardest to get it all down but there was just so much.

How many times I came I will never know, I was shattered, wonderfully beaten, I flopped down on to the bed, Tanya kissed me, it was the sweetest kiss I had ever had. It was a love kiss, not taken but given, I gave it back, and then I was alone.

When I saw them later I had a question on my mind.

"How are you going to get John out of the way for me Kala? Just to remind you, I don't want him hurt in any way."

"He is going to be told that London is his next patch, there is a lot of work there, he will go." He said.

"But can you force him, he won't want to leave here, even I know that." I said back.

"He will be offered the position, then if he refuses, he'll be shown copies of you, and told they will go out to all his friends and contacts, he won't survive that, his loss of face won't be tolerated by anyone. It will all be over for him, he'll have no option but to agree, and anyway, he will rebuild what he's lost here." Kala told me with finality in his voice.

"Okay," I told him, but I still had my doubts, I knew John, I knew he would try and find a way around it, but the humiliation of knowing I was with a black lover, a man and a woman would be too much, I hoped so anyway. I felt my life had taken a turn for the better. I was happy for once, I didn't realise until now just how unhappy I had been.

"I think," I said, " it might be a good idea if I were to ring him and tell him myself, that I will not be going back, I am with who I want to be with, and that we're over."

"Yes okay Kelly, but after that, your phone goes."

"Okay."

"But first he is receiving an e mail, text him and tell him to go on his PC." Then he will ring you for sure, you can tell him then its over." His words were final and I accepted it.

"Can I watch it first please?" I asked.

"Sure, sit down," I sat next to him, and what I saw was the most erotic and sex laden film I had ever seen.

It started with menaced and following Tanya, and her dressed in all her beautiful sexy glory. You could see the apprehension in me. I saw myself sink to my knees. You could hear the studs being popped and then she was in all her naked beauty in her high heeled thigh boots. I climbed on the bed and was thoroughly bossed by her in every way. The film was in three dimensional it seemed, I was filmed being taken by her, forced by her and into my ultimate submission.

Then came the grand finale, me up on my knees, being heatedly face fucked, and orgasming at the hands of Tanya, the cock in my mouth exploding, and cum dripping down my chin. I saw myself flop down. My seemingly apparent downfall to them was complete, my submission total, their dominance without doubt whole.

An hour later my phone rang, he was mortified, I know John and can tell when he's upset about something, and he was upset now, real upset. 

"Kelly how can you be like this, what the fuck has come over you, you are a dirty filthy fucking whore. I will kill you when I get hold of you, and then I'll fucking kill you again. Letting those animal black bastards treat you like a slave, a toy. You just wait until you get back here, you are in a world of trouble now."

So then I told him, "Well it's a good job I won't ever be coming back then isn't it. I'm staying here with them, they own me now, I belong to them completely, I'll never leave." I could almost hear the shock he was having.

"Do you like the films John, I'm only doing what you wanted me to do, try someone else, and do you know what hmmm? I love and adore it." 

Then I stuck the knife right in. "And by the way, I have never been to where he took me, I didn't know such a man existed, he is without doubt the best lover I have ever had, he is magnificent John believe me." I could hear him he was in such a rage. "And like they say John, and its oh so true, once you go black, you never go back, its just so heavenly being blacked. Especially when I have two of them, my mistress says I am a good girl so she is keeping me, and my master is just that, my master, goodbye John." I finished. Kala took the phone and broke it.

"That's it then Kelly," Kala said, "he will be gone in a month and you can sell your house, you have no need to worry about anything ever again. Now tell me who and what you are please?"

I looked at him and knew exactly what to say. I stood up, bowed my head a littler and said.

"I am Kelly, I am your personal woman, I belong to you sir, you own me, you own my life, it's yours to do with what you will, and my mistress too." He smiled, and pulled me onto his knee.

"You Kelly are what myself and Tanya call a real beautiful vital sexy live woman, you will never be unhappy here I promise you. But there will be times when I may need you and your sexy body to perform duties for me, do you understand me?"

I didn't know exactly what he meant, but I understood enough to know I would be loaned out as it were.

"Yes sir, I will never let you down, what ever you tell me or ask me to do, I guarantee you it will be done."

You are behaving above my expectations Kelly, I like that. Now get down stairs and get over the back of the sofa, I need to fuck you in the ass." I dashed off and was waiting for him. I got thoroughly rogered for 20 minutes, it was painful, it hurt like hell having that black log lodged in my ass like that. But it never stopped me from having climaxes, just because it was him.

This all took place about five years ago, John did go to London, I sold the house for a tidy profit that is earning good money. I want for nothing, I have three very healthy beautiful milk chocolate children and a fourth on the way. I still share beds with both Kala and Tanya, I am locked into them now, my life as a slave is fantastic. I have been 'farmed' out a few times, but it makes no difference to me. Kala and Tanya love me all the more for it.



Being Blunt



(This is story is a follow up the previously posted story "Unmasked"

You don't have to read the previous story in order to understand this one. But it will provide the background and events leading up this story. Hope you enjoy it.) 

*

I'm still sitting here, still in disbelief that I have just slept with Emily Blunt. I know I will probably never see her again. I get my things and begin to pack up as I am off to Monaco for the Grand prix. Amazingly I garnered tickets at the very last moment. I decide to take a train as to have a rather leisurely journey.

I arrive in Monaco after a rather uneventful train journey and check in to a hotel and lay back and relax. I am here a few days early before the F1 circus comes to town. I decide to head down to the bar and enjoy a drink or two. I sit down and sip on my drink and just then a figure walks into the door and I nearly spit my drink out.

In another shocking coincidence Emily Blunt just happens to walk into the hotel. I lay back in case cameras are abound but it seems she notices me as looks to me and gives me a sly wink. I am amazed and simply must be dreaming so I pinch myself again, no I am not dreaming.

I finish my drink and head back to the room and see across the hall in another one of the opulent hotel suites Emily standing by the door.

"Bill, this is either one of two things, a coincidence or stalkerish."

"I assure you it is the former."

"Well come in then."

I obviously accept and head in and we head to the balcony overlooking the city where in a few days honed machines race around the streets of this principality. We go back in and sit down and talk to one another.

"Emily, I must thank you for Paris you made a lonely man very happy."

"Oh come on stop being modest you're a rare man, one who actually gives a damn about women."

"I don't know how I plucked up the courage to talk you then. Maybe the masks help."

"Listen I know you may feel intimidated by women from what you're telling me now but hell this is life. The impossible can happen."

"Thank you Emily, the only thing kinder than your words is the way you say them."

"Aw thank you."

"Well I've never been much good with chatting up women or wooing them like one of these Hollywood playboys. I can scarcely believe I'm sat here talking to you."

"Listen you need not feel intimidated because I am a normal human being, just like you."

"Apart from the fact people from all over the world know your name."

"That's not important here; you can't sell yourself short because you've been chasing the wrong women."

"Come here sit next to me."

Emily lifted herself off the chair and came over and sat next to me and we cuddled together. Her body felt warm to the touch and I feel like I am having an outer body experience. Here I am in Monaco, sat on a couch holding Emily Blunt in my arms, I half expect to wake from this wonderful dream.

"Thank you, Emily, for showing me that some women are genuine and caring of other people, despite what past encounters has shown me."

"You're welcome."

Emily then turns to me and gives me a kiss on the lips, she tastes sweet and most certainly every inch the dream girl, I imagined her to be.

"After Paris, I didn't think I would be seeing you again."

"Nor I Bill. I have something to confess to you, you're the first man I have felt something deep for since my husband died."

"I just want to return you the kindness and love you have shown me."

"You have done more than that; you mended a woman's broken heart."

"I'm glad I could help." 

"Oh stop being so modest."

We then lay down on the bed and held each other tenderly and gazed deep into one another's eyes. I feel mesmerised and sense one of the most genuine connections with a woman I have ever experienced.We drift to sleep and wake later in the evening. We feel refreshed and a little more in love it would appear.

"How about we get something to eat?"

"How about room service? There are probably a million cameras outside."

"Oh that's right, I'm sorry."

"Hey don't worry, they fact that you forgot tells me something about you."

"What does it tell you Emily?"

"That you aren't simply looking for a famous face to fuck."

"I think you are the most beautiful and gorgeous woman to ever walk this earth and us mere mortals aren't worthy of your beauty."

"That was a little corny, but I sense the sincerity in what you are saying."

Emily then kissed on the lips and said to me, "Few men have fucked me the way you did in Paris."

I returned the kiss and then replied "Well I don't think any woman has fucked me the way you did."

"Thank you for that, but you must know I am not perfect."

"Emily to me you are, I too feel something deep for you."

"Well I don't know about you but this can't be a mere coincidence Bill, the fact that we are here in this bed, together."

"I don't think it is either Emily."

I run my fingers through her luscious long locks of hair all the while remaining fixed upon her delightful blue eyes I have ever seen. I reach down and begin to unbutton her blouse and reveal her lace bra and then I pulled it off completely. I reach down and unbuttoned her jeans. She lifts up her gorgeous behind and slides her jeans off and is now down to her white lingerie.

She sits up unhooks her bra whilst I slid down her panties to reveal her gorgeous naked form. I then moved in front of her and began to fondle her pussy and lick causing a spirited reaction from Emily. I flicked my tongue in between her gorgeous pussy and she loves every bit of it.

I look up at her as she arches her back and looks up to the ceiling. The lust is simply penetrating both her body and mine. I move up and lock lips with hers and I then felt her hand grasp my shaft and began to stroke it. 

She pushed me on to my back and then continued to stroke my cock a bit more. Emily then straddled me and slowly slide herself onto me cock and began to go up and down my hardened shaft.

Here I am once again fucking Emily Blunt yet another unbelievable occurrence. My mind and heart is racing as once again the most beautiful woman in the world is riding my cock. How unbelievable is my life at this point.

I sit up and wrap my arms around her whilst my cock is still deep inside her pussy and giving her a good reason to moan. We continue to kiss with passion and as the sounds of Monaco pass the window.

I feel the heat that has built up between us, the sweat emerging from our bodies as the aura of lust intertwines tightly between us on this day. There is a sexual truth playing out here as we come together and fuck with passion. We are connecting on a level never before experienced by me.

Emily's legs wrap around me as she feels an orgasm fast approaching. I continue fucking her and she moans with pleasure as the orgasm rips through her entire body. I continue to fuck her and after some time feel myself coming toward a climax and I soon explode deep inside her and she enjoys every moment of it.

We then collapse into and exhausted pile onto the bed laying side by side next to each other, naked and dripping with sweat. We catch our breath while being entranced by the deep abyss as we stare into one another's eyes for what seems like an eternity. The silence then finally breaks as I speak.

"Wow Emily that was amazing."

"Billy you weren't so bad yourself."

"Why thank you Emily."

"I am being honest here, you know how to fuck, how to please a woman, don't think otherwise."

"I really appreciate that, especially coming from you."

"Well I think after two of the most amazing sessions of love making this past week, I maybe feeling more than mere lust for you."

"It may seem that we revealed our true colours to one another back in Paris before we even took those masks off."

"I feel the same Emily."

Emily leans in and we share a kiss and then another one. Emily gives me an unforgettable smile as it graces her beautiful face and the reality of what is happening is dawning upon me.

"I presume you are here for the grand prix Bill."

"It's been one of my life long dreams to attend the Monaco Grand Prix but meeting you as always been my grandest dream."

"I am flattered, and you seem to be the complete opposite of boring which is important for me."

"Well, there was a time when talking to a woman, any woman was impossible to me and now I can barely believe what has happened."

"Well I am glad you got over it."

We laid back and watch the sunset and held each other.

"How about we get some room service?"

"Actually let's go out, I couldn't care less who sees us together, you are a good man."

"Well, let me go get ready I'll meet you back here in about 20 minutes."

"I'll see you soon Bill."

I then left the room and went back to my room across from hers, I went inside and the full realisation sunk in at what has happened. I have a date with Emily Blunt.

I shower and got myself dressed and went back across the hall and knocked on her door. Emily opened the door clad in only a towel and then pulled me inside.

"You scrub up nicely," Emily says to me whilst nonchalantly dropping her towel onto the floor.

"Thank you, Emily, you look lovely."

"I'm not dressed yet."

"I was not talking about your outfit."

Emily chuckled at that statement and appreciating the deliberate flirting. She slips on a lovely purple dress which shows off her cleavage, hugs her body very sensually, and gave a view of her gorgeous long legs.

"Ready to go?" I ask.

"Let's," Emily replies.

We headed out and out of the lobby which was deserted, we got outside and grabbed a taxi and headed to a rather secluded restaurant which was quiet today as the F1 Circus would be arriving tomorrow.

We settled down for some fine wine and enjoyed the vista of the principality through the restaurants windows. We got to know each other a little better, from our younger days to where we find ourselves at this moment. There is little to indicate the age difference between us two as our minds are on the same level. 

"I feel we have a lot in common and have been through similar things, and we are both now much stronger people."

"I agree Bill, you seem to understand me in a manner few others have before."

"Well sometimes when a connection is made few things can break it especially when it is made between two like-minded people."

"How about we get back to the hotel and carry on getting to know each other?" I enquire with mischievous grin."

Emily simply giggles and appreciates the funny side of that question.

"Sure let's get out of here."

We leave the restaurant and aside from a few errant flashes without too much commotion. We make our way to the hotel and we head inside my room this time and order some Champagne. We sip champagne by candlelight with the door to the balcony open and the twinkling lights of Monte Carlo sparkling like the jewels of a crown.

"Emily thank you, for another amazing time."

"Well you weren't bad yourself."

"Thank you Emily."

We our some more champagne and continue to enjoy one another's company for a long while we just sip on our champagne and merely look at each other and it feels that what we are exchanging is endless. No words, spoken or written, could explain what we are feeling.

Emily straddles me as we lie on the floor and simply enjoy looking into each other's eye with the faint candle light illuminating her beautiful face as she lies on top of me. We share sweet kisses as the lust builds between us.

Soon we are grasping at each other's clothes slowly taking them off and leaving them by the wayside. Emily sits up and slides her dress up and over her head. She tosses it up onto the bed. Emily then unhooks her bra and slides it off. She then pulls me up and begins to unbutton my shirt and take it off.

I reach down and begin to unbuckle my jeans as Emily gets out of her panties and is standing before me stark naked. She gets onto her knees and pulls my jeans and boxers off in one swift motion.

My cock standing fully at attention and ready and waiting for some attention that Emily begins to provide. She sucks on my cock and a gentle yet highly erotic manner which leaves me in awe as for the third time, I am with a naked Emily Blunt and we are fucking.

Emily gets my cock lubricated and ready for her pussy. Emily gets up and straddles me and then slowly slides herself onto my cock and gets to fucking me senseless. My balls tingle and cock remains hardened as Emily's amazing figure slides up and down upon it.

Emily lets out moans of ecstasy that start out as a mere murmur and turns steadily into a raging torrent as her lustful urges are being fulfilled and keeping her going all at the same time. We lay on the floor of this hotel room, naked and covered in sweat.

I draw her in close and lock my lips with her as she continues to ride up and down on my cock. Emily then gets off my cock and gets on to her knees alongside me as I get up and know full well what she is hinting at right now.

I get behind her and take in the gorgeous sight of her beautiful ass raised in the air being offered to me. I slide my cock deep inside her pussy and she then begins to slide along the length of my cock while I stay in still entranced by sight before my eyes.

We go on and time simply flies away as we continue to remain engulfed in one another's lust. Orgasms start to come for us both and simply just creep up on us and then we are engulfed by it and our bodies tremble with tingling desire. We simply fall into an exhausted heap on the floor panting and catching our breath.

"Amazing," Emily gasped.

"That you are Emily," I reply in awe of this woman.

(Hope you enjoyed the story, it will be continued in the next story to be entitled "Love Lust" )



Being Bred



Being Bred - white girl reunited with her first black boyfriend

It is a continuation of "How I got my first BBC." This story continues with the theme of adultery. If you are offended by stories of cheating, please don't continue reading this story. 

*****

It was time. Matt loaded my away bags in the car and raced back in the house to help me to the car. My stomach was huge, and I couldn't wait to bring the precious cargo that had been growing inside me into the world. My contractions made me scream; Matt responded by driving faster.

An eternity later I lay on a hospital bed being routinely inspected by a nurse. When Dr. Tabber arrived, he was just in time for me to be moved to the delivery room. Matt stood beside me holding my hand, as we rolled down the barren hall of the hospital. 

This was our first child. I had read every book on pregnancy, changed my diet and attended classes to prepare me for this day; but I was still not prepared. I had been in labor for hours and it was finally time to give birth. Matt stood beside me, looking pale, as I crushed his hand in mine. 

He had started at my feet, anticipating that he would watch his baby enter the world, but the moment I began to crown, he lost all color, and made his way up the bedside to hold my hand instead. After a final exhausting push, I heard our baby crying out over my own screams. The nurse quickly turned and stepped away to clean him off before returning to present our baby to us. I watched through watery eyes, waiting for her to show me my new baby. 

"Congratulations Grace, it's a healthy little boy." 

A baby swaddled in a blue blanket was lowered to my chest. My heart raced when I looked at his beautiful baby face; he was clearly a black child and there was no denying it. I will never forget the horrified look on Matt's face when he realized he was not the father.

Matt's eyes moved between the child and me, "I don't understand Grace."

The nurse and doctor could sense the tension and busied themselves with the final stages of child birth while Matt and I stared at each other in silence. The hospital was not the place to discuss the events that led to me having a black child. 

The next day Matt drove me home, but refused to talk to me. After carrying my things up to the house he turned and headed back to the car.

"We're getting a divorce Grace. This is bullshit." Matt drove away.

Matt must have gone home and packed immediately the day the baby was born. Most of his belongings were already gone as I looked around the apartment. I sat on the couch cradling my new child reflecting on my situation. All through my pregnancy I knew there was a chance the baby was Osa's, but I was praying that it wasn't. 

Here I am at 23 years old; a single mother with a pending divorce after only 8 months of marriage. Sitting on the couch I thought about the events that took place weeks before my wedding; the events that led to the birth of by beautiful baby boy.

***

I had always wanted children and with our wedding so close, I thought it would be alright for Matt and me to start trying and went off the pill. Matt was indifferent about having children but was not opposed to having sex with me as often as possible.

It was two weeks before the wedding when I went for my final dress fitting with the girls in my bridal party. On my way back home I decided to stop at the Starbucks to grab a chai latte. 

Standing in line I heard a deep voice boomed from a close by table, "Grace?"

I turned to see a black man smiling at me. It took a moment to recognize him. Osa was not the young black boy I dated five years ago. This was a full grown man with a confidence about him. He seemed bigger than I remembered too and had clearly spent considerable time in the gym. 

Before I could respond he made his way to me and hugged me, "I can't believe it's you!"

I gave him a friendly hug and broke it off, "Long time no see."

"Do you have time to catch up?" Osa motioned to a nearby table.

I was dying to know what had become of him after we broke up. We had been crazy in love; unfortunately the grief of dating a black guy from my family was matched only with his family's feeling about him dating a white girl. 

Needless to say, Osa and I went our separate ways and I returned to the familiar...Matt; his mother loved me like the daughter she never had. I did love Matt in that he was safe and predictable, but mostly because both our families supported our relationship. 

Osa's big hands covered mine, "I still think about you Grace. Wondering where you are, what you are up to, and if you're happy."

We sat for an hour catching up and I explained that I was engaged to Matt now. Osa had never settled with anyone seriously and said I had been his only true love. My heart melted at his words and the truth was that I never stopped loving him; he held a special place in my heart. 

Osa told me how he was back in town for the week and staying at the Four Points a few blocks from where we went to school together. He lived on the west coast now and travelled frequently for work but this was the first time he was back in our home town.

Looking at my watch I realized it was time to get home so I excused myself. Osa stood and hugged me again, "Can we do coffee again? I'd like to see you while I'm in town."

"I don't think Matt would be too happy about that." I stared at my feet in hopes of not being drawn into his eyes and smile again. Matt never forgave me for seeing Osa when we were younger. To say he was racist would be an understatement. Routinely he would bring it up during fights calling me a 'nigger lover' when he got angry; I hated it when Matt used Osa's color as an attack on me.

"Just coffee, like old friends." Osa lifted my chin until our eyes met, "I've missed you Grace."

Reluctantly, I agreed to meet him again the next day at the same time. In fact I met him every day he was in town. On our Thursday meeting Osa explained that he was scheduled to leave the next day after work. It would be sad because I had gotten accustomed to spending time with him again. It was as though time had not passed. Throughout the week we talked about the past and what could have been. Mostly, we discussed how we should have been mature enough to tell our families we didn't care what they thought.

"I have something for you. Something I want to give you before I leave again." Osa was clearly unhappy about having to leave me tomorrow. "I meant to bring it today but forgot it in my hotel. Would you mind giving me a ride back so I can give it to you?" 

After finishing our drinks, we made our way to my little civic and headed for his hotel. I laughed watching him squish into the front seat. Osa looked like sardine in a can. We laughed as he pretended to be 'High Tower' on the movie Police Academy. His humor was unchanged and it was very easy to remember the old feelings I had for him.

Following Osa into the hotel we made our way up to his room. I knew I should have waited in the lobby, but I wanted to be near him as long as I could; clearly my old feelings for him were getting the better of me. 

It was evident by his room that Osa was doing quite well for himself. It was a large suite with its own bedroom and kitchen areas. A large hot tub lay in a corner of the living room area.

"Wow! Nice place." I stood with my hands on my hips appraising the room.

"You are exactly how I remember you Grace." Osa appraised me with a slow blatant eye sweep of my entire body, "You still look like you are in high school."

"You look bigger!" I devilishly returned the eye groping. "In a good way of course." I smiled.

Without another word Osa stepped up to me and put his hands on my face. He leaned down and kissed me deeply, holding my lips to his as he waited for me to comprehend what was happening. His kiss brought memories flooding back and I gave my mouth to him.

Osa threw my arms around his neck as he wrapped his strong arms around me. We stood kissing passionately in the middle of his room for a lifetime. 

I had to break it off before I lost myself, "I can't do this! I'm getting married in a couple weeks Osa." 

"Tell me this doesn't feel right Grace. Tell me you don't want me too." His arms remained around me, "Grace, come spend the weekend with me. I just want one more weekend before I lose you forever."

As I stood stuttering Osa handed me my high school student ID card; he had kept it with him over the years. "I will wait at Starbucks until 3pm tomorrow; I hope you come."

I left the hotel and headed home. Preparing dinner that night I couldn't stop thinking about Osa; my heart ached thinking he could leave and it would be years before I would see him again...maybe forever.

After dinner I decided to test the water, "These crazy girls want to take me away for a girl's weekend before we get married. What do you think?"

"Oh yeah? Where are they taking you?" Matt stared at the television unphased.

I flopped down beside him, "No idea. It's supposed to be some kind of surprise."

Glancing my way without making any significant eye contact he returned to watching the television before responding, "Sounds fun. When are you going?"

"Tomorrow," I had his attention now.

Matt stared at me. "I guess we are running out of time aren't we?" he laughed. "Go have fun."

If he even knew I saw and said hello to Osa he would explode like a nuclear bomb. Now I was planning to spend the weekend with him. The challenge now was to ensure the girls would cover for me without telling them what I had planned. 

My girlfriends didn't live near us so any chance of Matt running into them wasn't likely. I told them I was going away for the weekend to setup a surprise for Matt without providing any more details except that I told Matt I would be with them. Naturally suspicious and inquisitive the girls agreed to be my alibi for the weekend. 

Pulling into Starbucks I could see Osa at a table by the window. His smile let me know I had been spotted and I watched Osa stand up and head for the exit. A moment later he climbed in the passenger side of my car holding a chai latte for me.

I drove to the hotel with my heart pounding in my chest. Osa held my hand and pointed towards the parking garage so my car wouldn't be spotted over the weekend. On the elevator he pulled me close to him holding me in his arms; we kissed for the second time in years as the elevator bumped and hummed its way to the 16th floor. 

Osa wasted no time once the hotel room door closed behind us. Taking my hand he guided me to the bedroom. As we kissed he began to unbutton my blouse revealing my bare breasts. His hands grabbed and squeezed at them immediately.

"My girl still remembers how I much I like these titties bare like this." He never wanted me to wear a bra when we dated. I moaned as his mouth sucked each nipple into his mouth. 

Stepping back he told me to get undressed in a commanding tone. It was then I knew the quiet and nervous boy from high school was gone. I watched Osa undress as I pulled my jeans and panties off. Within seconds we were both naked and staring at each other; for a moment we stood admiring each other before either of us moved.

His skin was the deep ebony of my memories. His developed chest, broad shoulders and toned stomach were evidence of his dedication at the gym. Slowly my eyes lowered and took in his semi erect cock; I gasped unconsciously as it was much bigger than I had remembered.

"Holy shit! Did that thing grow?" I pointed at his cock.

Osa just smiled, "I guess it grew up a bit too." He laughed. "Why don't you come take a closer look to be sure?"

I barely took a step and his big hands guided me to my knees bringing his cock inches from my mouth. It was definitely bigger than before.

"Mmm, let me see you suck my big black cock baby." Osa cooed his request.

My hands looked like a child's when I wrapped them around his rapidly swelling cock. Slowly I moved my lips closer to his head as he watched intently. When I bridged the gap with my tongue and touched the tip of his cock he moaned and tangled his hands in my hair. Staring up I watched his familiar smile cross his face. I parted my lips and sucked half the head into my mouth.

"Mmm fuck baby." Osa moved his hips pushing the entire head into my mouth. I smiled up at him as I ran my tongue under his sensitive underside. My hands squeezed and stroked his thick shaft as my soft wet tongue assaulted his hard cock. 

Slowly Osa fucked his fat head in and out of my mouth as I continued to tongue it wildly. When his cock was rock hard he pulled his head from my mouth, "Ready to give me that pretty white pussy again?"

Osa had never talked to me like that when we were younger; it was clear he had gained a sexual confidence. At first his aggressive sexual demeanor and comments caught me off guard but it didn't take long before I was turned on by his language.

"Stand up baby." Osa pulled me to my feet. "Look at how wet that little white pussy got just sucking my cock. Someone has missed this big black cock." Osa gestured to the wetness that spider webbed from my pussy to my upper thigh. 

"Get on the bed!" His voice was dominant.

I sat on the edge of the bed and Osa moved in close stepping between my knees. His big hands guided me on to my back and slid me further up the bed as he climbed on top of me. When he climbed up on me I wrapped my legs around his waist spreading myself open for him. Our tongues danced as he pushed his cock into my wet pussy causing me to gasp in his mouth.

"Dam baby you got tighter." Osa kissed me hard as he slowly worked his big tool deeper into me. I yipped with each thrust as he stretched me open and probed deeper until he was smashing against my cervix; each thrust made my pussy ache with pleasure. Memories flooded back to me of all the times he had taken me and all the fantasies played out in my mind over the years while Matt fucked me.

I moaned louder as he increased the speed and power of his thrusts, plunging deep into me, "I can't wait to pump a big load of cum in you baby. "

"NO! You to pull out." I stared seriously in his eyes. 

"You know I don't pull out baby." Osa lifted my legs higher and pounded me in to the bed. 

My protests were futile; he was right that I knew better. So many nights I fantasized of the times he had flooded my womb with his cum. Osa could see right through my pleas knowing what I needed even if I wasn't strong enough to admit it. Pressing his lips against mine he began probing my mouth with his tongue as his cock probed the deepest reaches of my pussy.

He got up on his knees and pulled me by my thighs against his cock; I screamed out as his cock tried to break in to my cervix. The full length and girth of his manhood impaled me. His breathing shallowed and his body began to tense. His thrusts became shallower keeping himself buried deep inside me. 

"Here it comes baby." He screamed it out. "Take my load like the good little white girl you are." 

I could feel his cock pulsing and my pussy got drenched as he flooded it with his potent treasure. He was unleashing his cum in me like he had done hundreds of times before. I knew this would be the first of many loads he would shoot in me this weekend and I didn't care; I needed him.

I returned to the present, interrupted by my baby crying in my arms. In hindsight of the number of times Osa seeded me that weekend, how could it have not been his baby. I decided to call Osa but it went to voice mail so I left him a message indicating we needed to talk. 

Almost two weeks had passed before I heard back from Osa. When my phone rang and I heard his voice I was flooded with mixed emotion. I was so nervous and had to muster all my courage to tell him the news, "I had a baby Osa." My voice cracked on the phone unsure of what his reaction would be. "It's yours."



Being Brittany's Bitch



It all started innocently enough. Okay, maybe not. I had heard the one and only Brittany Andrews was back in LA for one night only before heading on the road for a few months, so I lied to the wife and took off for the club. Of course, by the time Brittany got on stage, I had had a lot to drink, and had also gotten up close to the stage, so I could see the whole show. During her dominatrix routine, she grabbed me and said, "Is this as close as you've ever been to a naked woman, you loser?" I responded, "Actually, I'm married, you bitch." Wrong answer. "Then why the fuck are you here?" she replied. "I cheat on her all the time, actually, I was gonna get with you after the show, besides what she doesn't know won't hurt her." "We'll just see about that, bitch boy," she responded, and strutted away.

After what seemed like hours later, one of the bouncers at the club approached me, and told me that my presence was requested in the back. Now, I was pretty drunk, but I hadn't caused any trouble, so I was puzzled, but the guy was much bigger than me, so I figured it was best to listen to him. When I got to the back room, there was Brittany, dressed to the nines in a short red dress and 6 inch red stripper heels. 

"No one talks to me like that," she said. "It really turned me on. Would you like to come back to my place and party?" Obviously I did, so we hopped in her limo and took off to her apartment. "Now I can't have people knowing where I live," she said, as she slipped a blindfold over my eyes. I was slightly uncomfortable, but I was drunk, and I was going back to have sex with Brittany Andrews, so I let it slide. 

I felt the car pull to a stop, and I felt a collar being snapped around my neck, and simultaneously my hands were immobilized in front of me by steel handcuffs. I tried to yell out, but a ball gag was shoved into my mouth and secured. A leash was snapped onto the collar and I was lead from the car into the apartment. My blindfold was removed, and there was Brittany standing naked in front of me, with a mini tape recorder. She took my phone and started to dial my house, when I heard my voice on the tape player saying, "I cheat on her all the time, actually I was gonna get with you after the show, besides, what she doesn't know won't hurt her." 

"I'm sure your wife will love this," she sneered. "Brittany nooooooooo" I shouted from behind the gag. "What was that, bitch boy?" She laughed and loosened the gag. "No, don't. I'll do whatever you want." "Given your current predicament, I'd say you were pretty much at my mercy anyway, but I'm glad we have some agreement," she said, as she hung up the phone. She tightened the gag, slipped the blindfold back over my eyes and it sounded like she left the room.

I heard keys rattle in the door. "Brittany, I'm home," a woman's voice shouted. I had heard that voice before, but I wasn't sure where. "Well, looks like we have a new bitch to play with. Where'd you find this one?" "Some loser at the club that likes to cheat on his wife. He thought we were coming back here to fuck. Guess he got part of it right." She took the blindfold off, and I saw her standing in front of me naked, except for a large black strapon and black 6 inch platform heels. The unidentified woman was none other than Chantz Fortune, of Strapon Sirenz fame. She was wearing a sexy cheerleader outfit, that had an unnatural bulge underneath, which I could only assume was a strapon. "How was the video shoot today," Brittany asked. "It was great, I just love ass fucking little bitches," Chantz said. "I'm pretty tired, so this bitch is gonna have to do all the work." 

"That's fine," added Brittany. "I'll settle for a blow job tonight." Chantz lay down on the floor, and pulled up her skirt, her six inch pink cock staring menacingly upward at me. "Down, bitch," Brittany commanded. I shouted through the gag, and tried to fight, but I was going nowhere. Brittany grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down on the cock. I screamed as my virgin ass was invaded by the monster. Finally, I was able to take all of it without too much pain, at which point, Brittany grabbed the chain of the handcuffs and pulled me up a few inches, then pushed me back down on the cock. "Yeah, just like that, bitch. Bounce on my cock," yelled Chantz, as she took my shoulders and began forcing me up and down, as Brittany loosened the gag and let it rest around my neck. "Hey, you're hogging the bitch," said Brittany. "I need a BJ," as she unceremoniously grabbed my head and forced it on her cock. "Yeah, gag on it bitch," she screamed. I was being forced up and down and my head was being forced front to back and I was beginning to drool. 

After about 10 minutes, Brittany removed her cock from my mouth, grabbed my leash and pulled me off Chantz's cock and took me into the bedroom. "That's just the beginning bitch boy," she said as she tethered me to the bedpost. "We have a whole lot more where that came from." I could hear her and Chantz kissing and caressing each other in the bed as I drifted off to sleep naked on the floor. 

"Wake up bitch! it's my turn!" Brittany shouted. I was pulled, still groggy, onto the bed, and tethered to the headboard this time, but hands had been secured behind me, and my feet had been attached to the headboard as well. Brittany loomed over me, with her large black strapon. "I want a piece of that ass princess," she said, as she drove her dick into me. "Take it bitch." "This will be great video for later," I heard Chantz say. "What the fuck! you bitches!" "Big mistake" said Brittany, as she jammed the cock in further. "Yeah, I think this will make sure he complies with our wishes," she said casually, as she continued to fuck me. 

"Here's the plan, bitch, she said, as she slid a pair of black thong panties up my leg and pulled out of my ass. We're gonna let you go back to work now. Keep the panties on. We will pick you after work. Don't try anything funny, or you will be sorry." I was released, cleaned up, and dropped off at work. The day went normally, until I got a call from my secretary at around noon, right as I was about to take lunch. "Mr. Smith, there are two ladies here to see you about the new shopping mall proposal." "Let them in," I replied. Five minutes later, Chantz and Brittany strut into my office, dressed very professionally. "Let's see how well our little bitch listens," said Chantz, as she pulled down my pants, to see my normal underwear. 

"Big mistake, loser," said Brittany. Before I knew it, they had overwhelmed me, ripped off my clothes, collared, leashed, and cuffed me. They stripped out of their professional clothes to reveal matching black strapons. Chantz bent me over the desk, took the leash and began fucking me in the ass. Brittany stood in front of my desk and began raping my mouth. She leaned over to hit the intercom button, which would broadcast us to the entire office. "Noooo," I screamed. "I'll do whatever you want." She laughed and kept fucking my mouth, but my request was honored. After 10 minutes I couldn't take it anymore and I shot a load all over my important papers. "I think she's coming around," said Brittany. "She came without us even touching her cock." They both cleaned up and left. 

I figured that was enough of that. As soon as I was sure they were gone, I cleaned up, and got back to work as best I could. At about 3 pm, I snuck out the side door, and looked around. I was gonna make my break. All of a sudden, everything went black. I woke up what I thought was a short while later groggy, bound, and in pain. I looked up and saw Brittany and Chantz in matching latex nurse's outfits. "Yay, looks like our little bitch is finally coming to," said Chantz. "You know, this would have been much easier had you just listened to us, but you were too fucking stupid. I think you look better now anyway, and I don't think you'll be going anywhere fast looking like THAT, she said, as she held up a mirror. 

It took a minute to register, but looking back at me was a gorgeous woman's face, with long blond hair, big lips, and blue eyes. Further inspection revealed enormous breasts and long shapely legs. I gasped. "Don't worry, we left your pathetic little dick," said Brittany. We didn't want anyone thinking you were a real woman. From now on, you are gonna live with us and be our full time bitch. Whatever we require, you will do. In your current state, I don't think you have much of a choice. Now, I am a bit miffed that I was unable to be in Chantz's "Strapon Sirenz: Rearleaders." 

I have always wanted to fuck a little cheerleader, and you will fill that role." Chantz left and returned with a slutty cheerleader outfit, complete with pompons and high heels, as Brittany stripped off the nurse's outfit to reveal a long white cock. They slipped the skirt on first, and then pulled the tight, half sweater over my huge tits. Next came the 6 inch heels. I stood up, took a few steps and fell over the couch. "HAHAHA, perfect baby," laughed Brittany as she got on the couch and grabbed my legs and thrust into me, as I was bent over the back of it. Chantz attached some nipple clamps to my tits, then grabbed my hands from off the floor so that I was parallel to it and forced me onto her cock. As I held onto her hips for support and Brittany continued to ram into me from behind, I felt Brittany grabs my hands and cuff them behind my back. She then stood up a bit and pulled me back on her cock by the chain, while I continued to suck Chantz's cock. 

"If only your wife could see you now," Chantz laughed. Then I heard a knock at the door. "Come in" "Hello? Oh my God! what's going on?" I heard a woman scream. It was my wife! "Hello, baby, do come in," said Brittany nonchalantly as she continued to hammer my ass. "I thought you had information about the whereabouts of my husband," she inquired. Brittany leaned over and hit play on the tape recorder. "I'm sorry to have to break it to this way." "That son of a bitch," my wife yelled. "Well, we got him back, or are getting him back," piped in Chantz. My wife looked with a mixture of confusion and horror at the site in front of her. With that, Brittany withdrew from my ass and lifted me up so that my little cock showed. "Brad?" "Hi honey," I said in a high pitched voice. 

"It may seem extreme, but it's really the only way these bitches ever learn" offered Chantz, as she pulled her cock out of my mouth and stood me up in front of my wife. "You really should take a crack at her ass, after all, she was cheating on you," said Brittany. "You'll find her much more attentive to your needs and much more faithful as well. Now we did pay for a lot of surgery, so she is ours until she pays off her debt, but you are welcome to come over and use her or borrow her as you see fit." 

"I was thinking I could use a maid around the house anyway," said my wife. "Someone is catching on very quickly," Chantz said as she left the room, only to return a moment later with a short French maid outfit, complete with cap, feather duster, fishnets thigh highs, and black, 6 inch platforms. The three women forced me into the short outfit, which barely covered my tits and ass, and jammed the shoes onto my feet. My hands were of course, cuffed behind me, and I was lead by a leash, in broad daylight to my wife's car. "Have him back in two days, and don't forget to use this," said Brittany, as she tossed my wife a large black strapon. 

"Thanks ladies," she replied as we sped off. There was silence the whole way home, and as we pulled up yelled "This is what you get for cheating on me, Brad! She yanked on the strapon and bent me over so that I was dangling out of the window. This caused my dress to be pulled down in the front, baring my tits. She pulled up my dress in the back, and used my cuffed arms to bounce me back and forth on her cock. After a few minutes, we had gathered quite a crowd of neighbors. "What's going on?" they asked. "Some nice ladies caught my husband cheating on me, so they taught him a lesson, just as I am now," she commented. 

"Is that Brad?" "Check it out, she said, as she lifted the front of my maid's outfit. Not satisfied with my humiliation, she pulled out of my ass, and took me up to the roof of the car, where she continued to pound me doggy style, only she had recuffed my hands in front of me, so I was on my hands and knees and everyone could see my huge tits sway as I was getting fucked. "Okay everyone, show's over," she said, as she pulled out of my ass and slapped me in the face with her cock. She lead me by the leash into the house which was not an easy task considering the heels and the abuse my ass had taken. She gagged me with the strapon, and tied me to the end of the bed. 

The next morning I awoke to find myself in a short black skirt, black platform heels, a low cut blouse with no bra, and my hair done up in a bun, and wearing glasses. My legs were cuffed to a chair and my hands were also cuffed, this time in front of me. I was at the computer. My wife ran her own business out of the house, and I could see where this was going. She strode into the room, wearing one of my old t shirts and jeans, with a noticeable bulge in the front. 

"Honey, I need you to take some Dick-tation," she grinned at her own bad pun. Suck me! She unzipped her jeans, and out popped the big black cock. She forced my head down on it. "You wanna cheat on me? Not anymore. Take it all you little cock sucking bitch," she yelled. You liked my toes tapping my ears, see how you like this! She threw me on the floor, bunched my skirt around my waist, ripped open my blouse, and threw my legs up near my head. "I wanna see your tits flop as I fuck you," she growled. What is this called in porn? The jackhammer?" as she fed the cock straight into my ass. 

As she continued to fuck me, her phone rang. "Yes? Oh hi Brittany. Yes, she's taking some dick-tation as we speak. She's quite the little secretary. You really should give her a try. Shit, that's right. Ok, we'll be right over." She continued to talk as she pounded me. "Yeah, that's her in the background making all that noise. I like it that way. She wouldn't shut up last night, so I fucked her on the car in front of the neighbors!" With that, I sprayed a load all over my own face, into my hair and on my glasses. "Well, I guess you're going out like that now, you filthy slut," my wife laughed. She pulled me up by the leash, my blouse ripped, my skirt barely covering anything, and my body, weak from the fucking, barely holding itself up. 

"Wait, I've always wanted to do this," she said, as she shoved me back down to all fours. She took both hands and slowly flipped my skirt up over my ass. Then, all in one stroke, she jammed the dick back into me, and grabbed a hold of my hair and began ramming me again, as she pulled my hair and slapped my ass. "Man this is great," she laughed. After what seemed like eternity, she pulled me up by my collar, took the leash and led me to the car, making sure the skirt had not flipped back down. The neighbors laughed as they saw me wobble to the car, by big tits, red ass, and hard little dick leaking cum. 

"Well, I see someone had a good time," said Chantz, as she took my leash. "This is where you leave her. Like I said, feel free to visit anytime. She will be working in our studio, mostly as a secretary, and doing odd jobs, like taking big plastic dicks up her ass on camera. I groaned behind my gag, and looked down; I knew there was no end in sight to what my life had become.



Being Busted Brings Benefits



I was supposed to be working on a research paper for college on my new computer my parents bought me but instead I was tossing off to two hot blonds playing with each other's fake tits. I thought I had locked the door to my room but I guess I was wrong. Just at the point of no return I heard the door open. I couldn't stop it, having built up this climax for over an hour watching porn and pleasuring myself nice and slow. I expected a huge load, which usually happens after playing for so long and now, in walks my mother without even knocking.

Even I underestimated the power and there was nothing I could do to stop my mother from seeing it. The first burst flew from my cock and splattered all over my new monitor and left a trail of cum across the keyboard. I was horrified but nothing could stop my contractions as several more long spurts sprayed from my cock and hit my hand that I was trying to cover my exposed hardon with, while clicking closed the porn with my mouse.

"David Gregory! What are you doing!" my mother yelled.

I couldn't respond for two reasons, shock and pleasure. The climax was incredible, making my toes curl and me trying to hide practically a bucket of spunk was laughable.

"Umm... oh... shi... oh, geez," I stammered trying unsuccessfully to wipe my monitor off with a sock.

"Good heavens look at this mess. I've never seen so... so much... good heavens," my mother stammered standing next to my desk and staring at the plentiful amount of gooey semen everywhere.

I looked over at her embarrassed and she was now staring at my uncovered cock because I was worried about cleaning up instead of covering up.

"Oh my... you've grown up so much..." she said, trying to look away but not really.

"Mom! Please leave! And knock next time!" I hollered at her.

She tore her eyes from my package and looked at my face, "We need to talk about this, mister... after you clean this mess up!"

She left the room, closing my door. I dropped into my chair and shook my head.  Nothing like getting busted by your mother tossing off, and the way she reacted and looked at me was weird. I pulled up my pants over my shrinking dick and tried to clean up the mess I had made. I was going to need more than a sock. Leaving my room quietly, I snuck out to the bathroom but the door was closed partially and the light was on. From the view I had I could see my mother in the mirror. She was leaning against the counter with both hands down her pants grinding away. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

Had her catching me caused her to want to do this? What was she doing that for and with the door not locked. It kind of freaked me out actually making my cock move so soon after my climax. I didn't watch for very long before going back to my room. I thought about going back and catching her in the act so we would be even but that would only cause more problems for me. I needed to find my own place to live being in college and everything but the rent was zero, meals were free and my house was really close to the college so it was perfect. But now this has happened I might just need to move out.

Why was Mom masturbating anyway? She had Dad; doesn't he take care of her? The thought made me a little sick. Thinking about parents doing it was just gross, even if Mom was very attractive. I think I had more friends wanting to come to my house from my mother than to see me. I was always known for being the kid with the hot mother. But she was just my mom to me, though watching her play with herself was quite stimulating and was probably why I left so quickly. I shouldn't be turned on by my mom even if she was playing with herself.

On the way to my room I stopped at the linen closet and grabbed a hand towel for the mess. I swear I heard my mother cry out before I entered my room. I think she had cum. I couldn't believe what was happening to me, my cock was going nuts thinking about what my mother was doing and I was hard again before I closed my door. Even after I cleaned up the semen from my computer desk I was still hard and throbbing, not being able to stop thinking about my mother in the bathroom. Her grinding on her hands and her large breasts pushed out toward the mirror with her eyes closed. The image came back to me again and again the look of pleasure on her face, her arms shaking with the strain as she grinded down on her sex. Fuck, I needed to settle down somehow.

The knock on my door made me jump in shock as I was lost in my memory of the bathroom.

I pulled my shirt over my hardon as best I could and told whoever it was to come in.

"Are you decent?" my mother asked.

"Yes, Mom, come in."

She opened the door and her face looked flushed, which made me grin a little. She looked at the hand towel and I could have sworn she took a deep breath through her nose as she did. She came further in and sat on my bed.

"You're father and I didn't buy that computer for you to masturbate to porn. We bought it so you could do well in college."

"I know, I just had..."

"An urge? Yes, I'm sure a young man your age has those often. You're at your sexual height and I don't blame you for it. I should have knocked and I'm sorry."

"So you're not mad?"

"No, David I'm not mad," she said looking at the towel again.

My eyes glanced down at her body and to my amazement I saw her nipples erect and pressing out. I knew for sure then that her catching me and looking at the towel of semen was causing a major reaction in my mother.

"Are you alright, Mom?" I asked, seeing her face redden again as well.

"Fine, dear... it's just..." she stopped suddenly.

"What?"

"I really shouldn't be talking about this with you.... But it's your father he... well he hasn't wanted..." she stopped again.

"Dad's not wanting to have sex? Is that it?"

Her eyes flew to mine like I had said something horrible before relaxing again.

"Don't you dare tell him I said anything, he's quite a bit older than me, as you know and well, he's just not what he used to be."

"Oh, okay... um bummer." I said not knowing exactly what to say.

She continued to my chagrin, "I've forgotten how long it's been and I have needs too."

I was getting very uncomfortable now, and had no idea where this conversation was heading. I kept quiet, not knowing what to say to her and this must have encouraged her to continue. My dick was still throbbing and I hoped my shirt was covering it well enough.

"I don't know what to do and after walking in on you... well you have urges and I have urges. I'm also at my peak sexually, women hit it later than men. This may sound horrible to you but it got me thinking about 'helping' each other."

I about passed out from shock and she obviously saw the look on my face. It must have been one of horror or utter astonishment because she quickly kept talking before I could say a word. I was expecting her to back pedal and tell me to forget she had said anything but instead she started justifying her idea. My cock jumped in my pants and my mind and body were totally conflicting.

"I mean you're going to do it, that's just natural and I'd rather you didn't use the computer for that so maybe when you need some relief I could be your outlet, and since I'm helping you, you could help me.. I mean I could teach you some things too." A long pause followed, "You're not saying anything, David... am I wrong in in my assumptions."

She was now waiting for my reply, one which I didn't have at the moment but I knew I had to say something. My heart was pounding my cock was throbbing and I think my answer came from my dick instead of my brain.

"What do you mean by helping each other, specifically?" I asked, and as the words came out it shocked me that I had uttered them.

"Well, I could do for you what you do to yourself. You know, masturbate you with my hand and I could teach you what I like."  

"So like a handjob that's what you were thinking? Nothing more?" I asked, going nuts now.

"Well, that's up to you... we could start with that, and see how we feel. Do you know where a girl's clitoris is, David."

"Umm, yes Mom, I'm not a virgin."

"Of course, I'm sorry it's just we have never really talked about this, I let your father and school teach you. I could show you how to touch my clitoris and use your fingers inside my vagina and I could give you the handjob you mentioned. I don't expect you to give me an answer now. Your father is going to be home anytime. We can talk about this tomorrow after your classes when you come home. How does that sound?"

I should have said no and that I didn't want anything to do with this but my cock and rapidly beating heart just made my head nod and mumble 'sounds good, tomorrow then.' She got up off my bed, patted me on the knee and left my room again.

If anything in my life seemed like a dream it was this moment. I was utterly flabbergasted and didn't know what to do, think, how to act or even move. I sat in my chair, frozen as my mind spun in circles and my cock continued to throb. My mother, my mother! Had just proposed trading sexual favors with each other! It was totally reprehensible and the fucked up part was I was seriously considering it.

*****

The next day at school I couldn't focus on the professor and got nothing out of the lectures I did attend. I just kept going over in my mind what my mother had suggested and how calm and collected she was at dinner with Dad sitting right there and clueless to what we had discussed. She made no mention of anything even catching me watching porn, just a normal meal with my mom and dad. I was the only child of my parents but my father had another daughter from his first marriage I didn't see much. My half-sister was older, almost my mother's age and was probably why I didn't see her much.

I only got a few hours of sleep as well, worrying about what I was going to tell Mom and weighing the pros and cons of her tawdry suggestion. I justified it by thinking it would stop at handjobs for each of us and that would be it and told myself that wasn't that bad and I would be helping my mom since my father wasn't able to anymore.

I had made up my mind by the time I pulled into the driveway from school and walked in the house. Mom was drinking coffee in the kitchen. I sat my backpack on the stairs and walked in to her. She looked up from her coffee and the first thing I noticed was her hair and makeup was done more than usual. She was very attractive, wearing a tight fitting shirt and a short skirt this morning. She obviously put some effort and thought into herself for the first time in.... well forever.

"How was school," she asked.

"Okay, same as normal," I said sitting on a barstool across from the table where she was sitting.

"Learn anything new?"

"To be honest, no... I couldn't concentrate on school, not after our talk yesterday."

"I see, so you've been thinking about that. And what have you decided."

There it was, right out in the open again. I half expected her to change her mind after sleeping on it and realizing what she had proposed but her opinion had not changed. If anything, the makeup, hair and clothes proved she was more serious than ever. It was the moment of truth, something that I couldn't take back and would change my life forever.

"Yes I've thought a lot about it and I'm thinking we can try and see what happens. I mean we may find we can't really do it when it comes down to it. But I'm worried about your wellbeing and not having Dad there for you and I'm willing to help."

"I'm so glad you've decided to try. This lifts a large burden off my shoulders, David. I was considering straying on your father with a man at my gym but you could save me from that."

"Well, good, there's another reason for it then." I said, feeling my cock growing in my pants already.

"Yes, very good then... you be sure to let me know when you would like me to help you. Don't be shy about it, we've decided now, okay?" she said, taking a sip of her coffee like the conversation was over.

My cock was stuck in my pants, pressing against the material and not being able to move further up. It was becoming uncomfortable and I wanted to adjust it badly.

"What about you? Are you going to come to me when you have an urge?" I asked.

"Well, I assumed you would need me more than I need you but... I guess if I have one of those days I'll talk to you," she said, with a smile.

I couldn't take it anymore and reached down to move my cock, sliding it around and up toward my stomach where it wanted to go naturally. Mom, of course, saw this and smiled again, bigger.

"Looks, like I was right, just this conversation has you aroused. Do you need mother's help now? I can help and then you can get some studying done."

A thrill coursed through my body starting with my cock and radiating outward at her words. My heart pounded in my chest and the blood rushed to my brain, making me light headed as my cock throbbed in my pants. I couldn't answer again and apparently didn't need to. She put her coffee down and got up from her seat, walking over to me. This was it. If I let her touch it I was a goner and nothing could stop her, nothing could stop me. As of now it had been just talk but as soon as she touched me we would enter a whole new realm.

When her hand reached out and softly caressed my manhood over my pants another jolt coursed through me. It was the most intense sensation I had ever experienced before. I knew it was because of who was touching me and how taboo it was but I was a prisoner to the pleasure and excitement. It was all over for me now.

"My goodness, David you must take after my side of the family because your father is not near this big," she said running her palm up my entire shaft.

She gripped harder, causing me to moan and press outward to meet her hand. I was going crazy. This whole idea and experience had me out of my mind with exhilaration.

"Oh, yes, you like when I do that. Mommy knows what her boy wants."

When I looked at her I didn't see my mother anymore. It was strange, this new sexy older woman was not my mom, she was some hot mature blonde with big tits, sexy long legs and she really knew what she was doing. The clothes the makeup and hair had changed who she was and the biggest thing was what she was doing. I was almost ready to cum in my pants before she had even unzipped my fly. 

"Let's see now, we better undo these, don't want to make more of a mess than we have to," she said unbuckling my belt and zipper.

She gently pulled my pants down as I stood up off the barstool. My boxers were next and there was now nothing between my mother and my throbbing erection.

"Oh my, David, it's very impressive, so big and hard," she said taking the middle in her hand for the first time flesh to flesh.

A spontaneous twitch jarred me as she gripped my shaft with her hot hand.  She was standing slightly to my right using her right hand and her eyes were locked onto my now oozing member. The first stroke curled my toes, it was so much better than me doing it.

"Is that better," she said reading my mind. "Better when mommy does it. Yes, I'm much better than silly pictures on a computer screen."

I couldn't argue, moaning a response as she tossed my cock off slow and firm, grasping the skin tight and moving it up and down my shaft. Her large breasts were inches away from my hands, to tempting not to touch especially with what she was doing to me. I reached out with one hand, cupping her right orb. The reaction I got from her was amazing. It was like she hadn't been touched like this for a very long time. She practically melted with pleasure from the simple caress and almost forgot to keep stroking my penis. Her mouth opened partially and a sexy pleasure-filled look appeared on her face. She definitely didn't look like my mother now. She moaned as I pressed harder and grabbed more flesh with my hand, finding her hard nipple through her tight shirt and thin bra.

"Oh, yes, oh, David my sweet boy, don't stop."

I was too worked up, too excited to last much longer. Her hand stroking my ridged cock felt too good and I was on the verge of cumming all over the kitchen floor in no time at all. I kept squeezing her tit and pinching her nipple. Each time I did she moaned and sped up on my cock, making my balls ache for release.

"I'm going to cum."

"Okay, sweetie, cum for Mommy, I'll clean it up later."

The point came; I tightened my muscles holding the pleasure in for a split second longer before my cock exploded in the largest and most uncontrollable blast I had ever seen. Instead of one long rope of cum my semen shot out, it seemed, in several directions. Mom called out in what could only be a cry of joy and stroked me again, forcing another huge burst out onto the floor.

"Ohhh, Ahhhh," I moaned as the pleasure only increased.

"That's it, Son, cum for mother, cum and cum," she said, firmly stroking my cock over and over as each spurt flew.

The load last night was big but this dwarfed it probably twice over. It was unbelievable how much cum came from my cock as my mother manipulated it through to finish. When it finally quit, the floor looked like someone had dropped a pint of yogurt and it had splattered everywhere. My ass ached from clenching so tight and my legs felt wobbly. When I could focus again my mother was looking at me and licking her fingers. She was eating my semen like frosting!

"I can see were going to have to do this often. It's not healthy to let it build up this much and even after the large amount yesterday. Do you always ejaculate this much semen?" she asked, ignoring my look of amazement as she finished cleaning off her hand with her mouth.

It took me a second to respond to her question.

"Umm, well usually not this much but it's a lot most the time."

"That's impressive, David, very."

My hand was still on her breast, I hadn't moved it away during my climax. I pinched the nipple between my thumb and fingers and she reacted again the same way.

"Mmm, that's nice, are you going to help me out now?" she asked.

"If you need me to, sure."

"I do, badly. Seeing you cum that much has me hot and bothered. We moved away from the mess on the floor, my pants still around my ankles to the side of the bar. Mom was facing me now and I grasped both of her breasts and began fondling them. I'm probably six inches taller than her and she has kept herself in excellent shape at the gym each morning. It was easy for me to put my hands on her sides and lift her up onto the bar. She giggled, as her bottom hit the cold granite countertop. Both hands found her bare thighs, inching up under her skirt and driving her wild. She was breathing heavy and quivered with my touch. She leaned back onto her hands, spreading her legs as I inched forward.

My hands found her panties, soaking wet. Maybe it was her side of the family that produced so much fluid after all. She was dripping already. She shook noticeably when I ran my fingers up her lips and over her mound to rest where her clitoris was hidden. Pressing harder and rocking my fingers back and forth sideways she cried out in pleasure.

"Told you I knew where the clit was."

"Mmm, yes you weren't lying after all. I'm impressed," she cooed.

My free hand found her breast again and her nipple was already hard. I pinched it while manipulating her nubbin through her soaked panties. This got her really going. She was more vocal then I expected and louder.

"Oh, David, yes, harder... yes, rub mommy's clit... harder, harder..."

I was downright grinding on it now and pinching her nipples from right to left and back again. She had her head back, eyes closed and pressing forward into my hand. Her legs began to shake, vibrating into my hand as she continued to tell me not to stop.

"Almost there, almost..... oh, ahh, oohhh, I'm cumming...."