4 comments/  110684 views/  10 favorites

Threshold of Desire

By: Cuthbert



Part 1 -- A fetish exposed

We had been lovers for less than a year when I unwittingly discovered your fetish for panties. It was a pair of satiny black panties in a rather old-fashioned full-cut style that ultimately proved your undoing. Back then I couldn’t possibly have known the consequences of my decision to expose your fetish, that it would unleash my own deeply buried and very dark passions. And that it would commence an everlasting dance of seduction and surrender that would change our lives forever. 

It began innocently enough. I had noticed you stealing peeks at me whenever I changed my clothes in your presence, usually after work, getting ready to go out to dinner. Certainly normal enough behavior for a man, but it puzzled me how you always seemed to restrain the intensity of your interest, and take such pains to conceal its depth. 

It was the bedroom mirror that betrayed you. I would glimpse your reflection in the dresser mirror as I wriggled out of my snugly tailored work clothes and into something elegantly casual but tastefully provocative. As you beheld me in just my lingerie you thought you weren’t being observed and let your guard down. For brief moments I would see such a mesmerized look on your reflected face – a look I could only describe as aching adoration. I knew now how powerfully it affected you to see me like this, and in more than a physically sexual way. There was something more there that intrigued me, and I was curious about the degree of power that I could have over you, and that I might choose to use for our mutual delight.

I actually found your stolen glances quite flattering, and had taken to having you keep me company when I changed clothes, seating you on the corner of my bed while I put on little shows for your surreptitious enjoyment. I didn’t even have to look to feel the sweet hunger of your eyes on me. I knew that later that evening, you would be particularly attentive and tender when we made love, and especially so whenever I wore a pair of my classic style full-cut panties. When I wore those you often expressed a preference for me to keep them on during our extended sessions of foreplay, and couldn’t keep your hands off of them, caressing and stroking my bottom in an entranced state.

Over time I had begun to escalate the teasing. My motivation was not just that it was fun – I had always enjoyed teasing men – or that it enhanced our lovemaking. Rather, I became more and more obsessed to know what you were feeling and why you were so guarded about it. I had to plumb your depths and find a way to make you reveal yourself to me. And so I began taking advantage of more opportunities, and becoming more boldly provocative, but always obliquely, never direct or blatant. I could play a game of hidden intentions, too. 

Finally, I had decided to force the situation and confront you. I chose a time and place where we were sure to be alone and uninterrupted. We had spent a lovely day together, and the promise of intimacy had been with us all day. I had worn thigh-high hose and a garter belt under my skirt, and had specially purchased a pair of silky black panties for the occasion. They were full cut, and made of an exquisitely soft and silky material called bridal satin. I had teased you with little leg shows throughout the day, so that you would know that I was wearing stockings, and had even given you a few fleeting panty peeks. I knew that I had kindled a strong desire in you and the anticipation of things to come had kept my pussy wet all day. 

I invited you into my bedroom, and had you sit on the bed as usual while I started to change, facing away from you, but watching your reaction in the mirror. When I removed my skirt, I heard you let out a little gasp. I saw that you could barely conceal your transfixed yearning. I took my time, smoothing the panties over my bottom, feeling their lush silkiness and letting the moment develop. You looked at me so intently, more transfixed than ever before. 

Then I turned around abruptly and confronted you. "Are you staring at me, darling?"

You looked away suddenly, trying not to be caught. "No, no, I wasn't staring."

I stood right before you wearing my delicate blouse, panties and stockings with my hands on my hips, "Well, it looked like you were staring at me." 

I had never confronted you quite like this before and you were caught off balance, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare." You were clearly embarrassed and avoided looking at me. Your mouth had gone dry. I stood so close I knew that you could smell the natural scent of my body, and I knew how much that enticed you.

When you didn't respond right away, I said, "I know that you have been sneaking peaks at me. I think that it’s a bit rude, don’t you?”

“I honestly didn’t mean to stare at you or be rude, really.”

“Well I think that it’s a bit dishonest of you to leer at me behind my back like that. I hope that you’ve got a good explanation." 

"I'm sorry, I really can't help it. I can't help but stare, you look so beautiful when I see you that way."

"What way is that, darling?" 

"Dressed like that."

"Don't you mean 'undressed’ like that? I’ve seen you staring at me when I’m half dressed."

"Well, yes, I mean in your underwear like that. It’s so sexy. Are those new?” 

"They aren’t undies, dear, they are panties. And yes, they are new. Do you like them? “

“Oh my, yes, they’re really stunning! I’ve never seen you wear anything quite like those. I’m sorry, if I seem rude, it’s just that I can’t seem to take my eyes off of you!"

“Well, I might not find it such rude behavior if I better understood your feelings and intentions. How does it make you feel when you see me in my panties like this? Does it make you all excited?"

You looked away again, very uncomfortable, but obviously still aroused, and said, "It's hard for me to explain it, and it's kind of embarrassing. I don’t think I can really express it."

I moved in closer, placed my hand on your chin and gently made you look up at me. "Maybe I can help you with that. Would it be easier for you to let your feelings out if you were experiencing them a little more intensely? Now, don't turn away like that. Look at me.”

Although I firmly held your chin so that you faced me, you still tried to avert your gaze. What a stubborn boy you were being. I’d just have to press harder.

“You do owe me an explanation. I want you to look at my panties right now and tell me how they make you feel. Don’t pretend to be shy or uninterested, because I know that you aren’t. Go ahead, and look at them all you want."

You couldn't believe that I was directing you now to do what you had been so careful to conceal before, that I was now telling you to openly stare at my panties. You must have thought it was better than a dream come true. But my insistence that you expose your hidden desires was also very frightening, and you sat frozen, unable to move forward or backward, stuck on the fence. Push harder now, I thought, past the resistance.

I placed my hands on either side of your head and firmly directed your gaze downward to what I suspected to be the object of your fetishistic fantasies. I leaned closer and whispered softly but insistently, "Look at my panties now and tell me what you feel."

You stared intently at my panties and let yourself sink into that rapture of aching adoration that I had seen only brief glimpses of before. Your eyes drank in the way the soft delicate silky-smooth fabric snugly enveloped my lush womanly form, the flare of my hips, the gentle swell of my tummy, the urgent bulge of my mons. You were in a hypnotic daze, more deeply enthralled than I had ever seen you before. Finally, it was all too much for you, and the feelings burst forth. Your defensive walls began to crumble now, and your pent-up emotions and repressed feelings tumbled out.

"It makes my whole body feel excited. It isn’t that typical penis-focussed male arousal that I feel, but an overall, whole-being, uncontrollable excitement. It’s so strong, like the intensity of stage fright, or the nervousness of a first date, that it almost makes me feel a little ill. It makes me want to kneel in front of you and feel the softness of your panties on my face. I want so much to smell you and worship you that way."

"What way is that? And what do you mean by ‘worship’?" 

"I feel a desire -- an overwhelming desire -- to kiss you all over through your panties. Gentle, passionate kisses, to please and satisfy you." 

"Are you saying that you want to 'worship' me with your mouth? By kissing me all over?"

"Yes, I would like that so much. I think about it all the time. It would make me very happy."

My panties were by now sopping with the fragrant nectar of my desire. "You know, I've been wearing them all day, and they are a little damp and a maybe a little strong with my womanly 'bouquet.' Wouldn't that bother you?"

"Oh, no, I would love to smell you. I would love to taste you through your panties."

I still held your head in my hands. I pulled you gently now so that you slid off the bed, onto your knees. Your face was inches from me and my scent had to be spurring on your arousal.

In a soft, low voice, almost taunting, I said, "Is that all you want. You want to be my ‘panty boy’?” It embarrassed you the way I said it, it was a little humiliating to hear yourself called that. But it was what you wanted so you just nodded your ascent. 

“Would you really like to smell my silky black panties? And kiss them? And lick them? Is that what you really want? Well, speak up, now. You have to tell me." 

It was so hard for you to say it. After a long, silent, internal struggle you finally choked out the words I longed to hear, "Yes, I do. Please, I want to so badly. Please let me smell and kiss and lick your panties. Please let me be your panty boy."

“There, doesn’t that feel better now! Get it all out, now, and tell me more. Go on.”

"Sometimes I feel like I want you to use me for your pleasure, and make me use my tongue to please you in very intimate ways."

"Well! I think we might be able to work something out, especially if you were cooperative, you know, were a good boy about it. If I were to allow you this, indulge you in this way, I would have to expect a lot in return. I would expect you to indulge my desires as well. Do you think that you could handle that?" 

"Yes, of course. I would do anything you want."

"Anything? Would you do whatever I want, even if I was very demanding? Or if I had you do embarrassing things, just for my amusement?" 

"Yes, as you wish, what ever you want."

So now your fetish was exposed. Soon you would indeed be able to live out your little fantasies. And I would learn to test the depths of your fixation, how much I could have my way with you, and how far I could push your limits. I would also become aware of my own darker desires. Very soon we would begin to explore those forbidden passions together. 

© Cuthbert May 1, 2000. All rights reserved.

Threshold of Desire Ch. 2



Part 2 -- Exploring the depths of passion

I had just confronted you and forced you to expose your hidden desires. As you knelt before the beautiful vision of me clad in black panties and stockings I had insisted that you gaze upon me until your fetishistic feelings overwhelmed you. You had confessed your deep enthrallment to my beauty and your yearning to worship me, serving my pleasure as my devoted panty boy. 

I was surprised how much it had turned me on to drive you to your confession and to hear your naked admission of desire, and had not anticipated the erotic power the moment held. It had begun as a way to satisfy my obsessive curiosity about your obscured passion, but had unexpectedly awakened some deeply buried passions of my own. Now I found myself wanting to unearth both our buried passions.

I liked how it felt to have such a powerful effect upon you. It made me feel very sexy and desirable. And I had enjoyed acting the pursuer, the huntress, far more than I had expected. The teasing, taunting words I'd spoken had seemed to come from someone else within, a more forceful, demanding persona. One who knew what she wanted and was going to enjoy every moment pursuing her sexual desires, no matter how devious or kinky they might be. I too had been drawn under a spell.

The exposure of your vulnerability and naked devotion had also driven my passion, revealing a part of me that I had always known was there but had never expressed so purely. I had always enjoyed and felt excited teasing boys in the past but this was something different. The idea of being the focus of unbridled adoration, of being worshipped like a goddess, felt wildly exciting. And it was exhilarating to think of having such a free rein to direct things as I pleased and pursue my every erotic whim. A threshold had been crossed, and we both knew it. It was an epiphany that opened up a strange new world to us. A dance of seduction and submission had begun that would create a deep and fulfilling intimacy between us, one more dangerous and mysterious than either of us had ever experienced before.

There I still stood before you, resplendent in my thigh-high stockings and the black satin panties that I had employed to force your confession. You still knelt before me as I held your head in my hands, directing your gaze. You had just admitted how desperately you wanted to be my panty boy, to submit yourself completely to my elaborate adoration and lose yourself in the exquisite satisfaction of my pleasure. And you wanted me to test the depths of your desire and devotion. 

I gently pulled your face to me so that your cheek lay pressed against the soft fabric covering my belly. The delicate silky fabric, a thin barrier stretched snugly across the swell of my hot womanly flesh, was so very soft and mesmerizing. You were enveloped in the invisible cloud of my body's perfume, and, as I learned later, felt a momentous peace, as though you had arrived at a long lost home. I began to slowly rub your face back and forth across the smooth sheerness, first one cheek, then the other, over and over, slowly hypnotizing you into sweet surrender. 

Later you told me that you had often dreamed of such a moment, even adjusting your grooming in hopeful anticipation of such a blessed event. You told me that you always made a point to shave your face very closely prior to our meetings, often while fantasizing of feeling the sheen of my feminine undergarments against the smooth skin of your face. You had dreamed of feeling the soft ticklish skin of my inner thighs on your face, smoothly shaved so as not to chafe me there. I was very touched by the sweet devotion and consideration in the thought.

"Do you like this, baby? Is this what you want? " This time I wasn't teasing, I was mocking you, making you admit it.

All that you could do was exhale "Oh, yes! Oh, yes!" over and over in a low moan. The scent of my arousal wafted up to you from below, drawing you ever more deeply under my spell. 

"Would you like to kiss them? Is that what you want now?" I purred, now in a teasing voice.

"Oh, yes!" you moaned, "very much!"

"How much do you want to?" I taunted.

"Oh, god, darling, so much it makes me ache inside!"

I stopped the hypnotic rubbing and pulled your head back so that you gazed up at me with appreciative eyes. I spoke so softly it was almost a whisper, but clearly demanding none the less. I wanted to break your will to me, make you give in all the way.

"Ask me. I want to hear you ask me. Tell me how much."

"Please let me."

"No, darling, you have to ask better than that. I want to hear you express your desire more explicitly. And I want to hear the yearning in your voice."

"Please, I want so badly to kiss you there! Please let me kiss your panties! Please, I'm begging!"

"Good, that's a little better. I want you always to ask -- with respect, appreciation, and sincerity. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, I'll try to, I'll try to do my best."

I rubbed your face back and forth a few more times, then said "Now ask again; and no begging unless I want you to. And believe me, you'll know it if I want you to. This last remark had a dark and foreboding undertone, all at once intriguing, dangerous and arousing."

 "Please may I kiss you there, through your panties? I want to kiss you all over your panties, to please you." 

"That's better, my dear. Now, if I let you, do you promise to do as I direct you to?" I sounded almost admonishing, like a schoolmarm might speak to an errant pupil.

"Yes, I'll try my best to do as you wish."

"And you will obey me and stop if I tell you to?"

"Yes, of course!"

I rubbed your cheek across my belly again, inflaming both our desires anew. 

"You are to kiss only as I direct you to, which I will do by pushing your head, pointing, or instructing you. Do you understand and agree to this?"

Very quietly you said, "Yes, I understand. I will, I promise to mind you. Just let me please you. I want to so much."

I pulled your head towards me and directed you to kiss all along the top band of my panties, then back and forth across the front, slowly descending lower and lower down the womanly swell of my tummy. I could tell that you were filled with an overwhelming love for me, and an appreciation that I would tolerate your obsession like this, with such seeming acceptance and indulgence.

When your lips grazed my soft bush through the sheer fabric an involuntary moan escaped you and your mouth fell open in longing. 

"Uhn-uhn, no mouth or tongue. Not yet, darling, not 'til I say. Just kisses for now. Is that clear?"

"Uhn-huhn."

I pointed to one side of the panties and immediately you followed my cue, kissing along that side. Then along the other side. Then alternating back and forth, so gently and worshipfully. 

"Mmmmmm, I think you like this, don't you!" I said in my teasing, sing-song voice.

"I love it. I love to adore you like this, you're so beautiful and it's so intimate," you were so very thankful.

"What a good panty kisser you are! We may have discovered a hidden talent! ," Again in that teasing voice. "But talent needs plenty of practice to become truly good don't you agree? " I was relishing the attention and my eyes burned with desire now.

"Oh, yes! I would love to please you like this -- whenever you want, however you desire, and for as long as you wish. It makes me so very happy to worship you like this."

I pushed your head down, directing you to the swell of my mound. This time you remembered to keep your lips closed. Only kisses, I had said. Only kisses you had to repeat in your mind, over and over, as the smell and texture of my bush beneath the delicate black panties was making it so difficult to control yourself.

"Mmmmmm, I think we may have to practice this a lot from now on. Would you like that?" My hands now rested at the back of your head pulling your mouth firmly to my sex.

"Uhn-huhn," was all you could utter. Your lips and thoughts were entirely consumed with worshipping me.

"I know you'd like that. You love being my panty boy, don't you!" 

"Oh, I do! I love it so much! I could kiss you forever!"

Abruptly, I ordered you to stop, and you immediately froze at my command, as you had promised to. "That's a good boy! What a good, obedient panty boy you are for me," I praised, as my eyes glimmered intensely like those of a predator on the hunt.

I pulled away suddenly and said, "I think that you've earned a very special treat, you lucky boy! Now you get to do the back." I turned around, and looking over my shoulder said, "You know what to do. Start at the top again and slowly work your way down. Do a good job now. I want to feel sincere worshipful yearning through your lips every time they touch my bottom. You may begin now."

Again, a dream had come true. You had longed so many times for this moment, to worship my gorgeous bottom with hundreds of passionate kisses. My extraordinarily sexy ass had long mesmerized you, and I very well knew it. Seeing the full swell of my ripe womanly buttocks caressed by the delicate fabric of the black satin panties made you ecstatic, and so obviously filled with joy. You slowly kissed along the top band as directed. Again you descended slowly as you kissed back and forth, all the way down. As you reached the top of the cleft of my bottom, I arched my back with pleasure, pushing my sumptuous bottom to your lips as I delighted in this new worshipful attention. All the way down you gradually kissed, down to the creases where my ripe bottom met my long shapely legs. During this, I didn't let you venture into the tight crevice of my ass. Plenty of time for that later, I thought. 

"That's enough for now," I said stepping away from you. I sat down in the plush wingback chair in the corner of the room. I beckoned you to kneel before me, then directed you to kiss my breasts through the black satin bra that matched my panties. Back and forth, and all over. You gently nibbled at my nipples and sucked at them through the thin satin. I removed my bra, freeing my small perfect breasts. You followed my silent cues as I directed you to attend to them over the next twenty minutes, kissing and licking in circles around the sensitive areolas, nibbling gently at the erect nipples. 

When I had had enough of that, I encouraged you to suck as much of my firm breast in your mouth as you could while tickling my engorged nipples with the back of your tongue, then I'd pull back letting them slowly slip from your sucking grasp. Pushing in and pulling out as you sucked me deeply, I was breast-fucking your mouth and you loved it. 

At last I sat back up, saying, " Did you like that, sweetie? Did that make you hungry for more? Do you like it when I titty-fuck your mouth like that?"

"Uhn-huhn," you grunted, "I love it."

I directed you to strip from your clothes. As you complied, I saw that your cock was stiffer than I had ever seen it before, and dripping pre-cum from the tip. 

"You look like you're enjoying this! You're so hard!"

"Yes. I'm very hard. I'm so excited, I'm afraid I might come."

"Then you mustn't touch yourself. Try to stay focused solely on my pleasure, and it will help you not have an 'accident.' I want you to let me have complete control of your release."

"OK."

"You are to come only when I have given you permission, and only how and when I allow. Is that very clear?" You looked down at the floor and nodded your ascent. 

I beckoned you to kneel again and sit on your feet before me. Looking like a sensuous queen on her throne, I crossed my legs, proffering my foot, still clad in classic black nylon stockings and expensive Italian closed-toe heels. Not needing any prompting, you gently held my foot in your hands and kissed all along the top as you gracefully removed my high-heeled shoe. You now noticed that I had treated myself to an indulgent pedicure the day before and my feet were immaculately groomed. They were soft and perfumed and the nails lacquered a deep red, exciting you all the more. You reverently kissed along the sensitive arch of my stocking clad foot then kissed my pretty toes as you caressed my foot. Then you repeated the same for the other foot, then alternating kisses between the two. 

I lifted my right foot and sensuously rubbed the slick surface of the nylons over your cheeks. Then I stroked your nose in the cleft between my big and second toe. The natural sweet musk of my feet was amplified as only genuine nylon stockings can do, and it made your balls tighten involuntarily. As I rubbed your nose into the cleft between my toes I was daydreaming intently as though the act was a symbolic teasing foreshadowing of other sexual acts to come later.

I was glad now that I had the foresight to get the pedicure. It liberated me of any self-consciousness so that I was more able to enjoy the delicious pampering without any inhibitions. I loved how willingly you took to adoring my feet. I knew that you had never shown even the remotest signs of having a foot fetish before and therefore your attention was being lavished selflessly, without catering to any inner selfish desire, just for my pleasure. 

I had a shimmering hopeful thought that with time you might learn to enjoy pampering my feet almost as much as I was enjoying it. I had noticed the way your eyes lit up when you saw those perfect red nails. Mmmmmmm, maybe I would have you learn to paint them for me. I pictured you blowing softly on my toes to dry them, and smiled. Indulgent images of having my toes licked and sucked swirled in my mind, and my pussy twitched at the thought.

I signaled you to kiss each leg, from the toes to the soft bare skin above the stocking tops. As you kissed your way up you couldn't help but notice that I had dabbed a subtle perfume in the sensitive spot behind each knee, compelling you to linger there with your kisses as you breathed deeply of my scent. The prolonged teasing I was giving and the pampering adoration I was receiving were getting to me and I was starting to lose my composure. The desire that had smoldered within me all day and kindled into flame at your confession now flared into a hot, demanding urgency. 

As you alternated your kisses on the sensitive skin of my naked inner thighs my legs fell open exposing the shiny silky black panties snugly covering my mons and the damp panty crotch concealing my swollen labia. I was aching with wanton lust and you were delirious with desire the closer you came to my sweet treasure. My pussy and your mouth seemed drawn together like magnets, inherently attracted. It was kismet, meant to be this way, our acts a fulfillment of our destiny. 

We both felt the significance of the moment. I held your face in my hands, just inches away from my ready sex. I looked deeply into your eyes, then leaned down and kissed you. I looked long and deep into your eyes again and said, "Tell me what you are feeling now darling, right now," I said, driving you to the next level, opening you further.

"I feel more alive than I've ever felt before. And so connected and close to you, like I have been yours forever. I want so much to be intimate with you and pour my heart out to please you."

"Tell me how you want to be intimate, darling. Open up and tell me everything you imagine."

"I want to breathe deeply of your scent, so that it is within me. I want to worship your body, utterly and completely, without limits, just for your pleasure and satisfaction."

"That's wonderful, darling. I want that too. And you can be sure that I intend to teach my darling panty boy very well exactly how to please me. But isn't there something more, something else that you are holding back, something that maybe you are a little ashamed to tell me?" My intonation was firm, but nurturing.

You looked disoriented and even more vulnerable than before. You so wanted to please me, but it was hard to open up that much and answer the questions. I seemed to know what was deep within you more than you did yourself, and know how to compel you to open completely, and let me all the way in to your emotional core. You hesitated, and I kissed you softly again, reassuringly.

"Go on now, don't be afraid or ashamed. Tell me your most hidden desires, your most private fantasies. Show me how completely you trust in me by baring yourself totally and giving yourself to me completely. Isn't that what you really want?"

I had broken through the haze of your resistance. You let go and as tears rolled down your face you opened up more than you even knew was possible, revealing suppressed thoughts that you were barely conscious of, and had never really faced honestly even to yourself. Very quietly and quickly the words tumbled from you, "I do want you to take control. I want you to use me for your pleasure, and make me do things. I have thoughts I can't help sometimes of what I hope you might make me do, things you might think are perverse."

"Tell me about these perverse thoughts you have," I said in a very nurturing manner, "Its OK to tell me, darling, I'll understand."

"There are so many, I can't think of them all now. I think about worshipping you all the time. I think about you straddling my face and smothering me with your panties on. And fucking my mouth with your pussy, just like a man would fuck a woman's pussy with his cock. I want you to really force me to please you orally, and make me lick you. Sometimes, when I am masturbating and very excited I think of you making me do humiliating things, too and kinky unimaginable things that I've never done before. Sometimes I think about you making me wear things for you, like making me wear your panties while I go down on you. Or using sex toys, like holding the base of a vibrator in my mouth while you ride it on top of my face. But really, most of all, what I want is for you to make me submit unquestionably to your wishes and for you to make me show the depth of my love by surrendering completely to your demands." 

My eyes glistened darkly as I listened to you and my mind raced thinking of the possibilities. My mouth had become dry and the words came out thickly, "I am very, very intrigued by everything you say, darling. I think that we can find a way to meet both our needs, for now. And we will have to talk more later about those 'humiliating and kinky things' you mentioned. In due time, I think you'll find it easier to share these thoughts and feelings, as I teach you how to really open up for me, both emotionally and physically." 

For a moment you wondered what I might have meant when I spoke of opening you up physically. Then the thought was lost as I pulled your tear-stained face to me smothered it in my breasts and spoke reassuringly, "It's all right, baby, it's OK now. Don't you feel better now? Don't you feel better when you tell me everything?"

"Yes, I feel better." You relaxed, as though a great burden had been lifted from your shoulders. You had broken, and you were putty in my hands now, ready to be remade by my vision, shaped by my will. 

"Now I am going to ask you again. I need to know if you are certain of what you are asking for before we go further. Is this truly what you really want, to surrender your will completely to me? Are you certain?"

"Yes, with all my heart." You were entirely mine now, to do with as I pleased.

"What if I don't care to act out your fantasies, or if I wanted you to do things that weren't in your fantasies, but were just in mine. Have you thought of that? It might not be easy for you. There isn't any halfway with this, your devotion would have to be complete. And I might test your devotion, perhaps much harder than you imagine is possible. I might feel like 'training' you, making you practice what I like so you become really good at it. I might even have the urge to 'punish' you if I am displeased, or maybe just feel like it. Do you think that you are ready for that depth of commitment?"




Threshold of Desire Ch. 2



"Yes. That is what I want. When I imagine my fantasies I imagine they are what you want me to do. And that you make me do your bidding."

I leaned down and kissed you again, "Then your wishes are about to come true, my darling."

All through this last dialog your face had remained just inches from my hot, fragrant panties, in a sustained pause. Your awareness of the position you were in, which had subsided in the focussed intensity of our talk, now flooded back stronger than ever. 

"Let's begin again then, darling. Let's plumb the depths of our passion together. Are you ready to please me now?"

"Yes, I am ready." 

"Are you ready to lick me properly?"

"Yes!"

"And suck me?"

"Yes!"

"And do everything I tell you to?"

"Yes!"

"All right, darling. You may worship me now." Everything began happening more quickly and urgently now. I pulled your face to my sex and held you tightly there, pulling on the back of your head, crushing your face to my open crotch. 

You inhaled deeply, drinking in my scent, holding it in your parched lungs for as long as you could. Then you began to kiss me passionately through the damp panties. I rubbed your face firmly against my hungry pussy, urging you on, "That's what you want, isn't it. That's it, lick me. Lick my pussy, now. You know you love it, " while you lapped me frantically through the panties, sucking my sweet pussy nectar from the sopping crotch. "That's it, let it out now, be my little panty-licker. Suck my pussy, yes, suck it good! Find my clit and suck it hard now!"

As our passion spiraled higher and higher I wanted more, to be more insistent, more demanding. I had thought of such things before but had never acted on them quite like this, and your naked admissions had dissolved my inhibitions as well. I abruptly pushed you away and said, "Lay back, lay on the bed. Quickly, now!" I straddled your chest and moved up so that my legs pinned your arms by your side. I leaned forward to retrieve a satin pillow from the bed and placed it under your head, then sat back down on your chest looking down upon my captured prey. 

My eyes glistened with a smoky desire as I asked; "Do you know what's next, baby? It's something you want, and maybe a little more. Are you ready? "

"Yes, I'm ready, my love."

I scooted up so that my knees were on either side of your head. As you looked up at me towering above you you instinctively grasped my calves in your hands to brace yourself before you melted into complete surrender. I positioned your nose at the damp crotch of my musky panties and pressed firmly down, pushing your now panty-covered nose into the cleft of my pussy. Grinding my hips to a slow sensuous rhythm I drove your nose in deeper and deeper until it was in me all the way, pulling the panties very snugly to my mound. 

"Mmmm, that feels so good! You like that don't you!" I said in tones that were both sing-song and nasty at the same time. You had never heard me talk that way before. "Get your nose right in there, nice and deep, so I can pussy-fuck it." I ground down hard on your face, bucking my hips to rub my swollen clit hard against your nose. You were intently focussed on my pleasure, even as you labored to breathe between my grinding thrusts. I kept grinding relentlessly, gradually building in urgency and pace over the next ten minutes. Finally I came with a violent shudder drenching you with a gush of girl cum. 

I made you wait patiently without moving as I recovered in the afterglow, knowing that I would be oversensitive to any more stimulation with your nose still deeply in my pussy. Your face was sopping with my juices. After five minutes had passed, and I had settled down, I dismounted. I removed my panties and resumed the queening position on your face, but this time facing your feet. 

"I want your tongue in my pussy now. Put your tongue in and lick me all over. Suck up and swallow all my juices."

"Uhn-huhn," you grunted as you thoroughly tongued my bare pussy for the first time that evening, sucking up my juices and swallowing every precious drop.

"Tongue in all the way, as deep as you can," it was a blunt command now.

With each thrust of your tongue I bore down with a little wiggling motion, then held it as you wriggled your tongue in as deeply as you could. As I pushed down, your nose would nudge my sensitive anus, tickling it. Each time I bore down and your nose grazed my beautiful, puckered rosebud, I sensed a slight hesitancy on your part. I wanted to push you past this last trace of inhibition, to accept every part of me unquestioningly and without any self-conscious thoughts whatsoever. Only then could we truly explore the dark recesses of our psyches as one.

I had not let you touch your extremely hard cock, nor had I done so since we had first started several hours before. Now I began to stroke your cock with the musky panties that I had discarded earlier. As I did so I felt your remaining inhibitions melt away and your diddling of my ass with your nose became more relaxed. 

I held the base of your cock in a tight grip to inhibit you from coming while I continued to slowly stroke you. Many times you came to the brink and I had stopped and squeezed you hard to keep you from coming until the feelings subsided. Now I lifted my bottom off your face and sat back a little so that you could look up at me. 

"Not yet, baby, not yet. So close now, aren't you, but you have to wait a little more. Were going to do something special now, and then I'll let you come."

"Oh god, please let me come. I need to so much."

My next remark blind-sided you completely, inflaming your already overwrought desire with an image so salaciously tempting that it was beyond your ability to rationally comprehend, "I thinking I might suck you off, and maybe let you come in my mouth. Would you like that?" 

All you could do was frantically babble pathetic little involuntary moans, "oh yes, oh, oh yes, oh!" you would do anything now, anything at all, anything I wanted "Oh, yes!"

"But first, we're going to do something you probably haven't done before. It might be a stretch for you, but just remember it's something I want you to do with me, OK?. If you do it well I may let you come. Do you understand?" 

"Yes, my love." 

I added another pillow to the one beneath your head so that it was held up higher off the bed. Now my voice took on a more vulnerable tone, like I was opening up to you and revealing a dark secret passion of my own that I had never shared with anyone before. I sounded almost girlish now, and almost as though I was about to cry.

"I want you to kiss me in a very special place. I want you to give me some very private, intimate kisses, in a tender place. Where you've never kissed a woman before. Special kisses that you share only with me. Can you do that just for me?"

You weren't sure initially what I was asking for and said, "Yes, I think so." Then it dawned on you and you said, "Yes, I want to, just for you."

"It will show your devotion to me and your complete surrender. And it's important to me that you do so willingly and with sincere enthusiasm. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand." 

"I want to feel your yearning sincerity, feel it flow from your body to mine through your lips. It should tingle, like electricity." I was exposing my hidden vulnerable self to you, so that our naked souls could meet in exquisitely intimate rapture.

"This is what I want you to do; pucker your lips and give me three very special, heart-felt kisses:

-         First, a soft tender kiss of sincere love; 

-         Second, an urgent pressing kiss of unending devotion; 

-         and finally a deep probing French kiss of passionate intimacy. 

Can you do that for me?" My voice was almost choking up, and I felt so exposed.

"Yes, special kisses just for you my love. Three heart-felt kisses, just for you."

The expression in my eyes began to change from that tearful vulnerability to a demanding unbridled lust. I resumed my former straddling position so that my voluptuous bottom was right before your raised head. "Put your hands on my bottom, darling." I put my hands over yours and then slowly and gently pulled my cheeks apart exposing my tender rosebud. It glistened like a pearl, moist from sweat and pussy nectar. I removed my hands saying, "Hold me open, darling" and you did so, staring in a trance at that tender focus of your desire. 

You were completely fixated on my ass and I was 'training' you to please me. As I lowered my sublime ass to your face I spoke almost hypnotically, "Are you ready for our special kisses, darling? Our three kisses, of sincere love, unending devotion, and passionate intimacy?"

"Yes, my love. Only for you, my love."

I began to stroke your cock and said, "Kiss my beautiful ass now, darling. Kiss it with all your heart. Kiss it with all your love. Show me how much you love me." 

You gently placed your puckered lips to my tender ass and kissed my sweet anus as though it were a set of puckered lips kissing back. Over and over you kissed it with soft little kisses, gentle love pecks, with all your love, and I felt such an exquisite electricity pass between us. 

"Ohhhh," I moaned. "Ohhhh, that's it, my darling, again and again. Show me your love. Ohhhhhhhh . . ."  Finally I said, "Now with devotion." 

You lifted your lips and then kissed again, with a deeper urgency now, pressing harder this time and holding it for longer, moaning as you did so. I began to squirm, pushing back against your lips, and trembled visibly, "Ohhhhhhh, yes, that's it, kiss my ass and show me your devotion! Kiss it long and hard, darling! Show me that you love it! Be my sweet, devoted ass-kisser, just for me. Oh, fuck!" As I became lost in my passion voicing these words I began kissing your cock all over. 

You lifted your lips once more and I said, "Now with passion my love. Show me your passion." 

You kissed again and then pushed forward with your tongue until it was poised at my hole. You had never done this before but somehow instinctively knew how to please me. You started to lick my sweet tender anus gently, around and around in circles, rimming me softly.

"Ohhhhh, ohhhhh, Yes! Lick it. Lick my ass and show me your passion! Oh, fuck, yes! Lick it! Yes! Oh, fuck, you love it, don't you! You love it! Oh, fuck, yes. Fuck me! Put your tongue in me! Now!"

You stopped licking and made your tongue as rigid as you could, and with total abandon pushed it into my ass, through the quivering sphincter. 

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, fuck, yes. Deeper! Ohhhhhhhhhh! All the way, as deep as you can! Ohhhhhhh! Tongue-fuck me! Fuck my ass with your tongue. Fuck it hard, my love! Fuck it just for me! You love it don't you! 

"Uhn-huhn," I grunted.

"Ohhhh! You love being my panty boy! Ohhhh! You love it when I tease you and let you kiss and worship my panties! Admit it!" 

"Uhn-huhn!"

"Ohhhhhhhh, that's it, don't stop with your tongue! You love it when I titty-fuck your mouth, don't you! "

"Uhn-huhn!"

"Ohhhhhh! You love it when I make you pamper my feet and legs, don't you!" 

"Uhn-huhn!"

"Oh, fuck me! You love being my pussy-licker, when I make you smell and lick my fragrant panties and pussy!" 

"Uhn-huhn!"

"Ohhhh, fuck yes! And you love it when I pussy-fuck your mouth, don't you!" 

"Uhn-huhn!" 

"And you especially love our special kisses, don't you! Ohhhhhhhh that's it, keep fucking me! Fuck my ass, yes! Fuck it with your tongue. You love tongue-fucking my ass! Don't you! Ohhhhhhhh, fuuuuck!"

All you could do was answer in one long moan of acknowledgement while you vigorously plunged your tongue in me over and over.

Sporadically throughout my passionate raving, I would kiss your cock. As I neared my climax I said, "Are you ready baby? Are you ready to come for me? Ready to come at the height of your love? Ohhhhhhh, that's it, keep tongue-fucking my ass! Here you go now, here it comes, baby! You can come for me now, I'll let you come in my mouth!" As my climax was imminent I put your rock hard cock in my mouth and began sucking it. No stroking motion, only strong rhythmic sucking in time with the plunging motion of your tongue. 

As I came hard, I sucked you wildly and you went over the edge bucking in a fury. It was so intense an orgasm that you almost passed out. It was as though I had sucked a part of your soul right into my body.

As we came down, we changed positions and lay contentedly in each other's arms for a long, long time. We were very exhausted but very, very happy and satisfied. We had never been so intimate before, and our lives had changed forever. And we would be destined to live out our passions, new intimacies that we could scarcely yet imagine. 

© Cuthbert May 1, 2000. All rights reserved. 



Threshold of Desire Ch. 3



It had been six months since that turning point in our relationship, that day when I had driven you to confess your fetishistic fantasies. That had led to the transcendent revelation about the dynamic of my seduction and your surrender, from which had grown our erotic rituals of dominance and submission.

Somewhat surprisingly, our everyday relationship had remained relatively normal. During the day or in public, we acted as any new couple might, still learning to make decisions together, and building our life as an equal partnership. If anything, we had become even more balanced than before, as our new intimacies strengthened our bond and trust. Certainly, we had become more considerate of each other and conscientious of one another's point of view. But at night, behind closed doors and in the privacy of our bedroom, that could all change dramatically when you gave up control to me in a gift of your submission. 

Most often though our lovemaking was much as before, as ordinary as any couple's. I would choose to dominate you in the bedroom perhaps once or twice a month. Any more frequently would have made it too common and diminished its succulence -- like dining on French cuisine every day of the week. At all other times we hardly spoke of it, and I had made it abundantly clear that you were never to request or attempt to initiate a session under any circumstances. That privilege was to remain mine alone. 

When the mood did strike me your only clue was that I typically wore the black panties that day. I usually wore them only on these 'special' days – their sensual feel brought back fond memories of that first time, when you had confessed all to me – and they had become symbolic of our special relationship on these occasions. If you were lucky enough to notice me wearing them as I dressed for the day, you would know that the evening would likely be an adventurous one. There would be no other signal, remark, or acknowledgement, in the morning or throughout the day, just that tacit symbol of your abject submission to me. Sometimes, in a throw back to our earlier games, I would be sure that you got an eyeful. That way I could savor the anticipation during the day that you would be aching with yearning for me all day long, barely able to think of anything else. It was simple, elegant, and perfect.

Our sexual activities on these special evenings would vary as my moods and whims might dictate, but usually retained certain aspects from that first time. Almost always we practiced your panty kissing and worship, with you deeply immersed expressing the fetish that empowered my seduction, and me reveling in your attentive adoration and thinking of new ways to dominate you and stretch the bounds of your submission to me. Most times I insisted that you pamper my feet in some fashion, which I found to be both physically and psychologically satisfying. And I would usually include some difficult new demand – a barrier breached, a boundary pushed, a humiliation endured, or a physical challenge to suffer. Besides the variety this provided, it served to keep you off balance, apprehensive, and completely at my mercy.

At one point I decided that it was time to escalate our panty games and training to another level. That morning was to begin differently that any before. After my shower, as I sat in my silk robe at my dressing table brushing my lustrous hair, I beckoned you to me, " Darling, would you come here? I want your help with something."

You had been making the morning coffee and stopped just long enough to answer, "Be right there, honey!" and in less than a minute were by my side, asking what I needed.

"I'd like you to help me get ready this morning."

A puzzled expression came across your face – I had never made such a request before – then softened as you answered, "Of course, what would you like me to do for you?"

"I'd like you to be a sweet boy and help me getting dressed."

You said, "OK," but were still a little puzzled and starting to feel off balance. You continued, "but what do you want me to do?"

"To start, why don't you go to my bureau in the closet and fetch me a clean pair of panties? Top left drawer, whatever's on top."

From the novelty of the request you sensed something was afoot, but merely answered, "OK honey," and proceeded as asked. But when you opened the drawer you stopped cold. Neatly folded on the top of the stack of panties sat the black pair, the special ones. Uh oh, you were in a bind now, trapped in a seemingly minor dilemma, but one with potential consequences that mattered greatly to you. 

You picked up the black panties and absentmindedly felt their smoothness between your fingers as you contemplated the options. Had I known they were there? Had I placed them on top intentionally? If you brought them to me, tonight might be the night! You wanted so badly to bring them to me, but reconsidered: what if I hadn't planned it and it was just chance. I might think it presumptuous of you to bring them to me. The last time you tried to initiate our special dance I had made it quite clear that you were never ever to do so, and as a punishment and a reminder you had to wait six longs weeks until I next chose to play our erotic games. You were loath to let that happen again. It had already been three weeks since our last encounter, and the craving was filling your thoughts more and more each day. Better to play it safe, and bring another pair.

Only then did you notice the panties that were next on the stack. Unlike my everyday conservative ones in white, ivory or cream, these brand new panties were in a fascinating array of colors: navy blue, pastel yellow, blushing peach, rich plum, dusky rose and hot pink. And all in that old-fashioned full-cut style that drove you mad. Oh, my! What was going on? It wasn't so hard for you to choose between bringing me an older pair of panties or one of the new ones. You were already imagining me in the new ones, and were eager for the thrill of seeing me wearing them. Plus, they were near the top of the stack.

"What took you so long?" I said with a slight edge of annoyance. 

You didn't say a word, just looked down modestly and held out the pair of dusky rose panties.

I snatched them from your hand and said, "What's this, then?"

Your heart fell as you realized that you had made a mistake for which there might be consequences, "I didn't know which ones I should bring you. The black ones were on top and I . . ."

"I told you to bring me the ones on top, didn't I?" you scolded.

"Yes, but, . . ."

"Don't you think I know what's in my own lingerie drawer?" I said, clearly annoyed now.

"Of course, I'm sorry, it's just that . . ."

"Now go back and fetch the pair I asked for, and this time get it right!" I said and I tossed the rose-colored pair aside onto the bed. 

You dutifully backtracked to fetch the powerfully symbolic black panties. You were unsure whether to be glad or not, as you didn't know what might come of it. When you returned I was standing with my hands on my hips, waiting impatiently, "Now hurry up and help me get dressed!" 

When you tried to hand them to me I didn't accept them, and glared at you instead, admonishing, "I said help me, not hand them to me." I reached passed your offering hands to your shoulders and said, "Kneel down," as I pushed you down onto your knees. 

"Haven't you ever seen how a butler helps a gentleman get dressed, or a maidservant tends to her queen? You should help like that." As I said this I let my robe fall open and I raised one foot and held it out to you. Finally understanding you held the black panties open for me to step into, first one foot then the other, and pulled them up snugly over the curves of my sumptuous ass and belly. 

"Good. Now go get me a pair of black stockings and a garter belt. Top right drawer. And be quick this time."

By the time you returned I had already discarded the robe and put on a bra and blouse. "Do you think you could put stockings on me without ruining them?" you said as you donned the garter belt.

"I think so, I've watched you put stockings on so many times," you said as you recollected the teasing games we used to play. 

"Good. Why don't you show me then?"

Awkwardly and somewhat painstakingly you rolled up a stocking, then slowly and carefully stretched it snugly up my leg, smoothing it in place. Then you repeated the action for the other leg. 

"A little slow, but not too bad! I think your understanding better what I meant by 'help.' You just have to anticipate and be attentive, like a maidservant. You can be like that, can't you!" I said sweetly. Your face flushed with embarrassment at being compared to a maidservant. Although I had said it in a matter of fact way, not emasculating at all, it still felt humiliating. 

"Now go fetch me a black half-slip. Second drawer down." This time I didn't have to remind you to kneel so that I could step in, or to pull the billowy slip over my shapely hips.

"Thank you, dear. You did that so well! Just like a very attentive maidservant would!" I smiled at you sweetly, and said, "I think you like helping me dress!" You just looked down at the floor, trying to hide your reddening face. "I think I'll have you be my little maidservant like this more often! Now be a good girl and get my black heels from the shoe rack."

By the time you returned with the shoes I had donned a comfortably roomy knee-length skirt and was sitting in my favorite wingback chair waiting for you. I motioned for you to sit on the low stool at my feet. As I held out my right foot so that you could place put my shoe on for me, I said, "You know, this reminds me of being waited on by this shoe salesmen a long time ago who was always trying to look up my dress. I used to love to tease him. I'd give him panty peaks to get him all hard and then he'd have to stand up to go get shoes for me." Then as I held up my left foot, "I loved how embarrassed he got trying to hide his little stiffy from everybody. It took him so long to come back, I always wondered if he was just trying to calm down or was wanking in the bathroom. I really loved to torment the little pervert." 

You were done putting on my shoes and I was fully dressed now. I lay back in the chair and, with a wicked gleam in my eye, said, "I bet you would just love to look up under my dress, wouldn't you?" You looked away evasively with an uncomfortable look on your face. I could tell that it bothered you that you could be manipulated so easily to emulate someone that I had just denigrated as a pervert. But in spite of the discomfort you nodded anyway.

I smiled at you and said, "Well, I suppose you really can't help it, can you. And you were such a good helper, I think that I'm going to let my maid have a little reward. But you have to pay attention, too, because I have some instructions for later." 

While staring intently at you I very slowly and dramatically pulled my loose skirt up and spread my legs so that you could stare up my skirt, up my blowsy slip at my pantied crotch framed by the garters and hose. My action was less an exposure of my self, as you had just seen everything as I dressed. It was more of an exposure of the erotic power that I held over you, a deliberate statement, and a reminder of your subservient position. It was also an enticement that you were too weak to resist and it made you sink immediately into a transfixed stare. 

"Now listen carefully, I have some instructions for you for tonight. I want you to be home early enough to be ready for me when I get home around 6:00 PM. Don't forget to give yourself a very close shave after you get home. And I want you to be naked and waiting on your knees near the door for my arrival. Did you get all that?"

"Uhn-huhn, I mean yes, I got it." You still stared, transfixed. If your ears and eyes were connected in any way in your brain my words had to have burned into your memory.

I then stood up abruptly and said, "Good enough, then. I'll look forward to tonight. Now you may go finish with breakfast."

That evening I didn't show up until 6:30 PM. I found you waiting for me as instructed, naked and on your knees in the foyer, presumably for at least the last half-hour. I didn't acknowledge your presence, just came in, closed the door, locked it, and took my time scanning through the day's mail on the side table. Then I leisurely removed my coat and hung it in the closet, all the while ignoring you. Finally I turned to stand directly in front of you, with my hands on my hips, and looked down at you like an officer might review a lowly grunt. 

"I've had a busy day today and I'm looking forward now to a proper greeting from my panty boy!" I lifted the hem of my loose skirt and blowsy slip and dropped them over your head so that you were enveloped in that very feminine domain. The slippery silkiness of the loose black slip played all over your naked upper body. The cramped space under my skirt forced your face up against me and the limited air was stuffy and thick with my feminine fragrance. "Now beg for the privilege of pleasing me."

"Ohhh," you moaned, and with the sound of your voice muffled by my skirt, "Please allow me the privilege of greeting you properly. I want to show you with tender kisses how much I worship you. Please please let me kiss your sweet panties, please, I'm begging you, I want to so much. 

"Very well. My panty boy may greet me properly now." I then directed you to kiss all over the front of my panties, pulling your face tightly to me, constraining your limited air to my pungent muskiness. By pushing your head around under my skirt I directed you to kiss my pussy through the slick fabric of my black panties, over and over and over, hundreds of repeated kisses for what must have been 15 minutes. 

"This is how I want you to greet me on special nights. Be kneeling and ready. And if I lift my skirt you are to ask or beg, as I see fit, and worship as I permit. Do you understand?"

"Yes," came your muffled reply.

"Good. That's enough for now," I said as I lifted my skirt back off of you and pushed you away. 

I bid that you follow me to the bedroom where I removed my blouse, skirt and slip and put them away neatly. I saw your discarded pants lying on the floor, and picked them up, muttering something about living with such a slob. As I removed the belt and tossed the pants on the bed, I noticed that the dusky rose panties that I had tossed aside that morning were no longer on the bed. Hmmmmm.

I had you kneel down again and I turned around so that my shapely bottom was right in your face. I spoke to you over my shoulder, "Now my beautiful bottom would like to here some praise from you. Talk to it like it was a person, a person much better than you, of a higher class. And tell it how much you love to kiss it, and how grateful you are for the opportunity to please it." I was really enjoying talking to you like this.

You paused to think for a moment and then looked directly at my bottom and addressed it in sincere, respectful tones, "You are so beautiful, and so much better than me. I am so lucky that you favor a worthless nothing like me to know you. Thank you so much for letting me show you my appreciation, I'm truly grateful for that privilege. I love so much to kiss you and worship your beauty, and I would do anything to please you."

"Goodness, my bottom is surprised and very pleased with your praise! For that you are granted one kiss of devotion, before you remove my panties." With that I bent over and pushed my ass towards your face. 

You knew well by now that 'kiss of devotion' meant a long pressing kiss on my tender rosebud. When you leaned forward to kiss my ass through the panties I slipped the belt around the back of your neck. As your lips met my ass I pulled the belt tight, holding you in place. As I straightened up part way I tightened the belt even further and then slipped the clasp in place. When I stood up all the way the belt pushed your face very tightly into my ass , holding your pursed lips snugly to my sweet bud.

"Mmmmm, dreamy! Ohhhh, my, that's nice. Let's stay like this for a while. Would you like that, too?"

A muffled "Uhn-huhn." Was all you could muster.

After what must have been ten minutes with your pursed lips pressed tightly to my ass, I finally released the belt saying, "My, that was good. I really enjoyed that, didn't you?"

You just nodded as you gathered your breath back.

"Now you may take my panties off, but remember, using only your mouth." 

As you started to do so I saw that you were fondly yourself and stopped you abruptly, "Hey! Get your hands off your dinky. Just because you can't use them on me doesn't mean you can touch yourself unless I tell you." I had you resume trying to remove my panties then stopped short again, "Your face is rough. Didn't you shave like I told you to?"

"I . . , um . . , I didn't have time before you got home." 

"You should know by now that I insist on you being as smooth as possible for me. You'll just have to take care of it right now." I marched you into the bathroom and stood behind you dressed only in my bra, panties, stockings and heels, with my arms crossed waiting impatiently as you hurried through the task, glancing furtively at me in the mirror. 

You toweled off and turned to me for my approval, saying, "OK?"

"Much better!" you cooed as you felt the smoothness of my face, then shifted suddenly to a cooler, harder tone, "but we aren't done here. I think you need a reminder so you don't forget again, a punishment appropriate to the transgression." As I thought about this with my hand on my chin, I looked you up and down. "You'll have to shave some more, as a reminder. I want you to shave all the hair off your legs and pubes."

Your jaw dropped in astonishment! "What? You've got to be kidding! I can't do that!" You were absolutely mortified at the thought, and could hardly speak.

"You can, and you most certainly will! Your going to shave so you're as bald as a little boy!" 

"Please, not that, it would be so embarrassing," you pleaded, your face twisted with panic. You thought of being discovered that way by the other men in the locker room at the gym. What would they think?

"That's the point, isn't it? That's why you won't forget again. It's to help you not forget. And I'm afraid you must. Now hurry up and get started. If you don't get going right away I might just do it myself with that sugary waxing stuff. And I don't think you'd like that, would you!"

The thought of being waxed and having your pubic hair torn out by the roots was disturbing, and I had once told you how it grew back thinner when removed that way. At least if you shaved it wouldn't hurt so much, and it might grow back better. You were crestfallen, but at last resigned to accept your punishment and try to preserve your remaining dignity by not whining further. "OK, I'll do it."

"Here, use these," I said as I handed you the shaving gel and one of the pink lady's razors from my drawer. 

"Can't I at least use my own razor?"

"No." 

I stood by and supervised the process, pointing out the places that you missed. By the time you were almost done with your legs, you had let go of the shame a bit, and were focussing instead on doing a thorough job. Then I brought the shame right back again with, "Don't forget to shave your balls. They'd look silly with all the other hair gone." When you were done with that formidably awkward and rather squeamish task, I had you trim as much pubic hair as you could with scissors, then razor shave the rest until you were as smooth as a baby, from the waist down. Once you had thoroughly wiped all the soap away, rinsed and toweled dry, I stood back to admire your handiwork. 




Threshold of Desire Ch. 3



"Good, your finished. Oooh, you look like a little boy, without any hair! Except it makes your winky-dink look bigger! Or maybe that's because you like having your legs shaved like a girl! You know, your legs aren't half-bad, considering." The embarrassment came flooding back and you couldn't look me in the eyes. Then my tone changed as I admonished, "I hope this helps you to remember to shave next time and always. Do you think this will help remind you?"

You had to point your reddened face at the floor as you answered, "Yes, after this I won't forget again."

"Now, where were we before we got distracted? Oh, yes. Now you're properly ready to remove my panties, with just your mouth. But this time, let's make very sure those mischievous hands can't get busy. I picked up something new on the way home that might prove useful. Wait here." I stepped out to the bedroom for a minute and returned carrying something made of shiny metal. It was a pair of chromed-plated handcuffs! "Turn around," I ordered.

"No! But wait! Why do you need those?" you protested, backing into the corner, "I'll be good! I promise not to touch myself! Really, I promise!" Your eyes had gone wild with fear.

You tried to escape but it was a weak attempt. I spun you around and grabbed one wrist, twisting it up behind your back. As I slipped one cuff on your wrist I said, "Unfortunately, your track record isn't so good, now is it?" Click. I grabbed your other hand and pulled it behind your back to slip the cuff on the other wrist, "I'm afraid I just can't trust you to keep your hands to yourself." Click. 

Then I used the cuffs to pull you backwards to the center of the bathroom, and shaking them, said, "These will make up for your lack of self-discipline." Still standing behind you I raised one foot and positioned the sole of my high-heeled shoe on the chain between your wrists and push down firmly, driving you to your knees. Then I stepped in front of you and ordered, "Now get to work!" 

You were still very shaken and hadn't yet gotten over the panicky feeling of being cuffed, but you made a valiant effort to remove my panties using only your mouth. It took almost five minutes of strenuous struggling, made harder in part when I told you part way through not to use your teeth, just your lips. By the time you pulled them down to my pretty ankles your face was all sweaty from the effort. You still had to hold onto them, to pull them free of my heels as I stepped out of them. 

As you knelt in exhaustion with your face on the floor holding the panties in your lips, I cooed, "That wasn't so hard, was it?" Then lightly scolding, "Don't leave them on the floor like that. Pick them up and bring them over here." You did as directed, awkwardly crawling to me with your hands cuffed behind you, holding the top band of the black panties in your lips. When you got to me I had you sit like that with them in your mouth, their pungent aroma l'amour wafting up to your nose, while I gave you further instruction. 

"Now, you should know better than to leave my fine panties on the floor. You need to learn where soiled panties should go until they can be cleaned," as you said this you lifted the lid off the bathroom laundry hamper. "Now go ahead and crawl over here and put them in the hamper." 

You let out a half-whine, half-groan and a look of disappointment mixed with fear crossed your face. Clearly, you had hoped to keep the prize that you had struggled so hard to get. You must have been enjoying smelling them and didn't want to give them up just yet. But this didn't seem to be all there was to it. You seemed awfully afraid to go near the hamper, too. I looked down at the hamper and saw the reason why -- the missing dusky rose panties were lying on top. 

"What are these doing here?" I asked, as I picked up them up, "These don't belong here, they were clean when I left them on the bed this morning." Then it became apparent. They weren't clean any more. The crotch piece was damp, soiled with what looked to be a fresh load of cum. 

"Oh my god, I can't believe this!" I said in shock, "there's a slimy mess of boy cum in my new panties!" I held them out right in front of your face as I glared down accusingly at you, "My new panties I haven't even worn one time! And you jerked off into them! God damn it, I can't believe you did that!" 

You were frozen in abject terror at being discovered. The punishment for not shaving had been pretty severe. You couldn't imagine what I would do to you for this much worse transgression. You knelt there with the black panties still hanging from your mouth, sitting as far back on your feet as you could get, trying mentally to escape but not daring to move.

"God damn it, you little jerk-off. How dare you do that! It makes me so mad!" and then something occurred to me that took me from furious to fuming. " Oh my god, that's why you didn't have time to shave, you were wanking! Oh! I don't believe it! I give you a simple instruction to do something for our mutual benefit and you pull a stunt like this!"

Suddenly my fury took action. I still held the cum-smeared panties in front of your face, "You are really going to pay for this, you wanker! Open your mouth!" You didn't fight it at all, and rather seemed resolved to your fate. As you opened your mouth the black panties fell to the floor. I turned the dusky rose panties inside out and forced you to take the cum-laden crotch into your mouth, "we'll see just how much you like these now", I said as I shoved the rest of the panties in. The full-cut panties gagged you completely and you could smell the cum as it dripped down the back of your throat, "How do like the taste of your own cum, you wanker!"

I picked up the black panties, and looked at you thoughtfully for a while, until a wicked look came over me. I pulled the black panties over your head so the inside of the pungent crotch rested over your nose, then tied the sides off in back of your head to keep them in place. You were a ridiculous sight, with your big eyes looking out in apprehension from the leg holes. "Can you smell them? I bet you'd rather have these in your mouth, instead of having to eat your own cum, wouldn't you? Too bad, that's all pathetic little jerk-off boys get, they have to eat their own cum! Now stay there, I'll be right back," I said, as I left to go to the bedroom. When I came back you saw that I held the peach colored panties in my hand. I put these over your head as well, using their full back as a kind of hood, covering your eyes, and holding the crotch of the black pair more securely in place. I tied these off tightly, pulling the slippery fabric very snuggly over your face. You could still see if you tried, but it was difficult -- your vision was impaired by the panty veil, which also pressed against your eyelashes. The aroma of the black panties was stronger, now that they were held tightly to your nose and their essence contained by the silky peach panty hood.

You looked pathetic and felt so degraded – helplessly handcuffed, with clean shaven legs, balls and pubes, gagged with panties soiled in your own cum, my musky black panties held tightly over your nose, and half-blinded by the peach panty hood. 

My commands became brusk now, "Get up," as I pulled you up by the handcuffs behind your back. "Get in the bedroom, and be quick about it." I shoved you to stumble forward half-blinded. "Face up," as I pushed you to fall onto the bed. As you struggled to roll onto your back I disappeared from your view for a minute or so. When I returned and climbed up to straddle your chest you could see just well enough to tell that I had donned the plum-colored panties. 

"Now you're really going to pay for that mistake. By the time I'm done with you, you won't have a fetish for just any panties. You'll have a fetish for my panties, and mine alone. You're going to remember this day for the rest of your life!"

With that, I scooted up so that I nearly straddled your face, but held back a few inches. I held your head tightly between my thighs and proceeded to masturbate slowly, rubbing myself with my fingers through the plum-colored satin, just above your face. "Mmmmm, that feels so good, I bet you wish you could have some, don't you?"

I kept at this for the next fifteen minutes, goading you mercilessly as I brought myself closer to climax. I was so wet I was dripping now onto the panty hood over your nose, and you had to suck your only air through the fabric that was dampened with my fragrant nectar. "Mmmmm, can you smell me, doesn't that smell good? Ohhhh, ohhhh!" With that last remark I had my first climax.

I changed position, this time to sit on your face in reverse, facing your feet. Through the thin fabric of the hood you could see my plum-colored ass slowly descending onto your face. I sat there for a while and then began to rhythmically thrust my hips. The slick surfaces of the plum-colored panties and the peach-colored panty hood glided smoothly over one another. The moistness from my pussy lubricated the slickness, so that I could grind very hard against your face without it catching. I could grind down very hard and still move freely and had just enough friction to be stimulated nicely but not enough to limit my movements. 

I ground your nose hard, trying to push it into me, but it just slid back and forth, rubbing my swollen clit. Your breathing was labored – you could get just enough air by sucking it into your lungs through the drenched peach panties and the soiled crotch of the black panties. It was marvelous, and I came three more times fucking your face over the next hour.

When I was satisfied I got up and pulled you to the side of the bed and made you sit up. I removed the hood, the nose cover, and the panty gag from your mouth. You looked like a rag doll that had been left out in the rain. You were so exhausted that your face couldn't even express your relief that it had ended.

I pulled you over in front the wingback chair and down onto your knees, the handcuffs still behind your back. I removed the plum-colored panties and sat in the chair and smiled at you. "Well I hope that you learned a lesson." You were too tired to even respond.

"But you're not quite done yet, darling. There's one more thing for you to do before I set you free. You still have to clean my pussy with your tongue. And you do know that you don't get to come again tonight, since you already spoiled that. I'm sure that you understand that by now, don't you!" 

And with that I pulled your tired mouth down to lick me clean. You would be paying for your transgressions for some time to come.

© Cuthbert May 1, 2000. All rights reserved.



Threshold of Desire Ch. 4



Chapter 4: Maid service

Three weeks had passed since our last 'special' time, yet it still angered me when I thought about your transgressions that evening. Your first transgression, of 'forgetting' to shave your face as directed, had earned you a fitting punishment – being made to shave your legs, balls, and pubes as a 'reminder.' But the second transgression had been far worse. It certainly was bad enough that your had jerked off into the crotch of a purloined pair of my panties, but it was unconscionable that they were so new that I'd not yet worn them even once, and unforgivable that you had been wanking instead of obediently following instructions. Although you had been punished that night, you would be paying for your misjudgment that evening for some time to come. 

In the three weeks since then, I resolved that you should have to endure additional suffering to win back my favor and good graces. I had thought a long time about suitable ways for you to serve your penance, and this week you would find out how intense that torment would be.

It began on Wednesday morning, when I called you to me and asked you once again to 'help' me getting dressed. By now you well understood what 'help' meant, that you were to attentively see to my needs as I dressed. Once more I sat at my dressing table in my silk robe after my shower.

"Darling, be a dear and fetch me a clean pair of panties. I think I'll wear peach-colored ones today."

You knew to fetch them from the dresser, bring them to me, kneel and hold them out as I stepped into them, and then slide the soft silky nylon up over my hips. 

"Good. This is the first time I've worn this new color. New panties are always so nice! How do I look in them?" I asked you teasingly. I twirled around to let you have an eyeful of my voluptuous figure, snuggly clad in the feminine object of your fetish. It was so easy to rivet your attention to me.

"You look wonderful. You're always so beautiful."

"Yes, I think I do look nice in them. This color is very flattering, very feminine in an understated way without being too obvious or flashy. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, they are very lovely, and very feminine."

With a mischievous grin I said, "I think they are just 'peachy' don't you?" I stepped up to you as you still knelt before me, so close that your face was inches from my sex. I whispered salaciously to you, "Mmmmmm, and we all know that just below the soft, fuzzy skin of the peach is such succulent, delicious sweetness! So yummy! You do like peaches, don't you, honey? Peaches and cream?"

It was such sport to tease you like this, and so easy to overwhelm you with saucy references to my silky panties and juicy pussy. The teasing always awakened your fetishistic desires and compulsions, and made you so tractable, easy to manipulate. I loved the power that it gave me, and the freedom to do pretty much as I wished. It aroused me to tease you to such erotic highs and torment you to such humiliating lows. It always made me want more, to go further and push you past the limits of both. That's what I craved.

It was time now for a little torment. I stepped back from you and admonished, "You know, my peachy, creamy panties wouldn't be so lovely if you had violated them like you did my dusky rose pair, now would they?" Oh.That. You were hoping beyond all hope that I'd forgotten that little incident three weeks ago. But I hadn't. Instead, my ire had been simmering ever since.

"You remember, don't you? You beat off with them and soiled them with your come before I'd worn them even once." You really didn't want to be reminded and fell quiet, trying to lay low and not provoke my thinking about it.

"You know, you still owe me for that little stunt. It's going to take a whole lot now to earn my trust and approval. It's going to take you quite a while to pay off the debt from that little fuck-up." 

You looked down, dejected, "I know."

"You do want to make it up to me don't you? And earn my favor back?"

"Oh, yes, I do," you perked up.

"Good. You can earn a little forgiveness by working very hard to a good 'helper,' my very personal maidservant. You know how much I like you to pamper me like that." 

Your face brightened up, "I'd like so much to make it up to you. I know how disappointed you were in me."

"Well, why don't you get started right now and go fetch me a pair of pantyhose. There is a nice new pair of gray Wolfords in the third drawer down."

You brought the package of new hose and opened them for me. You knew better now how to roll the hose up before carefully stretching and smoothing them up my legs. You were extra careful this time as you knew that these were an expensive pair that you didn't want to ruin. I thought about how I generally liked the pampering and specifically was enjoying how it stressed you out to be worried about ruining a pair of premium hose. I'd have to wear fancy hose more often. As you pulled the pantyhose up you could see and feel how nicely they slid up over the slick finish of the panties, over my ample bottom, and it made your mouth dry and your pulse quicken. I then had you fetch a pair of my more conservative mid-heel shoes while I finished dressing. When you came back I had you ritually kiss each foot three times before slipping on my shoes.

"Very good! I can see your really making a sincere effort to serve as my maid. Maybe we'll be able to 'play' a little tonight. Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes! I would love that so much!"

"Very well then, be ready for me at 6 PM. And don't forget to give yourself a nice, close, thorough shave. Your face has got to be nice and smooth to be allowed to go everywhere you'd like it to."

On Wednesdays I got off work at a normal time and so that evening I arrived shortly after 6 PM. As instructed you were waiting, naked and kneeling, in the foyer. It had been a long three weeks since the last time, and you were anticipating with an expectant desperation the opportunity to worship my panties again. 

I entered and locked the door, once again ignoring you as I scanned through the mail and hung up my coat. Finally I stood before you, hands on hips. You were so ready for me to lift my dress over your head as I had done before and tell you to ask or beg for the privilege of worshipping my temple of Venus. I stood a long time looking down at you. Gradually, a look of mild scorn crossed my face.

"I'm disappointed. I thought I told you to shave."

You were obviously surprised, "But I did! I just shaved not more than a half-hour ago."

"Unfortunately, I don't think you understood everything I meant when I told you to shave. I really expected you to shave your legs again as a 'reminder.' And also your balls and pubes again."

"But that was to remind me to shave my face, and I did remember this time!" you whined.

"Yes, that's true enough. But you're forgetting that that punishment was given before I knew why you 'forgot' to shave, that you didn't forget at all, you were busy wanking into my new panties instead. Under the circumstances, I don't think it's unreasonable at all for you to keep yourself shaven all over, so that you are ready whenever our special nights might be. Don't you agree?"

Not having much room for argument you answered in a resigned sigh, "I guess so. I see your point."

"Well then, it's settled. You'd better go take care of it right now." I stood and watched you get up from your knees and go off to the bathroom to shave again. This time I wouldn't be supervising you, as I expected you to be proficient by now. 

When you were all done you came looking for me and found me in the bedroom sitting in the wingback chair in my robe. As you knelt down before me you saw that I still wore the gray stockings, and presumably the peach panties. Your anticipation was back again, and all consuming. You wanted it so very badly. Peaches and cream.

I looked you over and said, " Well, that's much better now. I like to see you shaved like that for me. You know, when your legs are shaved they look just like a girl's. I can't tell they belong to a boy! Isn't that funny?" You didn't find it funny at all. It was embarrassing to be shaved and humiliating to hear me compare you to a girl. "And there are so many things we can do with that. Things I can do with you. And to you. It's really quite lovely."

You just knelt quietly, staring like a patiently begging dog, and biding your time.

"It's too bad you took so long, though. I'm not really in the mood anymore tonight. Maybe if we try again tomorrow night you'll do better." And with that, I patted you on the head and then walked out of the room.

You were devastated. This had never happened before, to get so close and then stop like that. We had always had sex of some sort before this, however tormenting and twisted it might be. And you knew that the decision was final, there was no consideration for an appeal. It was entirely mine to make, and any request or attempt to influence that decision would have harsh consequences – primarily further postponement and denial of any sex. 

The remainder of that evening was to be ordinary, with no further mention of what had just transpired. 

The next morning, Thursday, I was up before you, to get ready for an early morning meeting. I didn't request any 'help' that morning, and you hardly caught a glimpse of me getting ready, though you wanted to. You were eager to see if my lingerie held a clue of your fate that night. It looked to you as though I had dressed about the same as before, in peach panties, gray hose and mid-size heels, but with a different skirt and blouse. 

You had all but given up trying to read the signs when I stopped while going out the door, and gave you the terse instructions, "Be ready at six, and shave well this time."

Thursday evening my arrival was similar to the night before, with me ignoring your naked, kneeling presence while I went through the mail and put my coat away. Once again I stood before you, with hands on hips. You were dying to worship me now. All that you had been able think about since you'd knelt down to wait for me was how much you wanted to worship me, and partake of my rapturous peaches and cream. 

"Did you shave?"

"Yes, I did."

"All over? Your legs, balls and pubes?"

"Yes, just like you told me to, everywhere, freshly shaved tonight."

"Good. We're making some progress. I think that you're ready for the next step."

Next step? Your mind raced with furtive unspoken wishes – please, please, please put your dress over my head, please, please let me kiss your panties now, please, I'll beg if you want me too – all from those inner voices of desperation.

"You are following instructions much better now, aren't you. Into the bedroom with you!"

Your anticipation was in high gear now, blathering silently in your mind – Oh, yes! Oh God! Finally! I can't wait another moment! I'll do anything, please, make me lick you tonight. Please, oh, I'm so desperate!

I directed you to sit on the corner of the bed, like you used to do long ago, back when our games were limited to teasing. As I went to the closet you imagined that I was going to put on a little show, and maybe wear something provocative for you, like I used to do sometimes. Maybe your penance was finally over now.

When I returned I was still fully dressed, as before, but now held something in my hand. Standing over you and smiling down at you with very soft and sympathetic eyes, I held up a pair of pastel yellow panties. 

"Do you think these are pretty?" 

You thought, 'Oh yes, yes! She's going to wear them for me!' and said, "Yes, they are pretty! And very feminine too! You'll look wonderful in them!" 

"Oh, darling, you've misunderstood again. I want you to wear these." 

You were completely unprepared for that. "What? You've got to be joking!" you said, and thought 'She can't be serious!' The idea of it was so emasculating, so humiliating. 

I looked you directly in the eye and spoke to you in a very even, controlled tone that showed my steely resolve. "I want you to wear them. And wear them without any whining or squawking. To show me how sorry you are for soiling my new ones."

"But it's so humiliating!"

"You should feel humiliated, that's the point. It's to punish you. You still have to earn my good graces back, and to do that you should be punished. It will remind you of what a naughty boy you were."

"Isn't there some other way? And do they have to be yellow?"

"What's wrong with yellow? It's a perfect color for you. It symbolizes what a coward you were to be so dishonest with me. They are a very appropriate color for your punishment panties." 

You wondered how long you would be paying off this debt. There was no way around it. You might as well take it all on now. The sooner you did, the sooner you might be done with it. Very quietly you gave in, "OK. OK, I'll wear them." I handed you the panties and watched expectantly as you put them on, pulling the slippery satiny material up your smoothly shaved legs. It stimulated your fetishistic feelings and you couldn't help getting a hard-on. 

"Does it embarrass you to wear your yellow punishment panties?"

"Yes, it's terribly embarrassing."

"Good. You should be embarrassed – after all, a grown man wearing such girlish panties. If people knew they would think you were such a wimpy pervert. Saaay, if its so embarrassing how come your little clitty-dick is hard?"

"I. . . ., I . . ., don't know, I . . ."

"Is it because you like to shave your legs and wear girlish panties? Do they feel nice against your smooth skin? Or maybe you like being humiliated. Is that it? Or perhaps it's a little of all three/"

"No, I . . ., it's not that I want to, it's just that . . ., well, I just can't help it."

"You can't help it. Ah yes, help. That reminds me of the other half of your penance tonight. The first part, for punishment, is that you have to wear your girly yellow panties all evening, to remind you of your shame. The second part, for atonement, is that you will be given an opportunity to make it up to me, to try to win back my favor. For that you will be allowed the privilege of pampering me all evening. You must learn that the only relief for your burden of shame is to accept your punishment and show me that you are capable of devoting yourself entirely to my desires, without any thought for you own. Only then will I consider 'playing' with you again." 

You knew that there'd be no other way to go forward, so you had to agree. At least you appreciated that there was a way out. "Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance to atone for my errors. I want so much to be forgiven, so it could be like it was before."

"Do you think you are ready to do that, pamper me all night with all manner of feminine indulgences?"

Your body relaxed into resignation as you said simply, "Yes."

"Good. You know, it's fitting that you're wearing panties tonight, because you're going to learn a few lessons tonight in feminine grooming. Tonight I want you to be my panty maid; my sissy panty maid. Are you prepared to do that for me?" 

You knelt before me, as smooth as a girl, in your humiliating, yellow punishment panties, denied your deepest cravings, and being coerced into being a sissy maid for an entire evening. There was no resistance left, your will had been completely broken. All the hopes and expectations of your own desire had died away, and been replaced with a gnawing desperation. And now you were faced with deeper humiliation and prolonged servitude as your only path to salvation. There was little alternative left but to accept these terms. You had no choice if you ever wanted to experience the rapture of your fetish again. All you could do was nod your agreement.

"Let's get started then, shall we. We'll have a little girl fun in a minute, but first I'd like to have a nice foot massage so I can relax. I've been on my feet all day." I sat back in my favorite wingback chair and held my right foot out to you. You took it in your lap and proceeded for the next half-hour to massage first one foot, then the other, very thoroughly and adeptly through my stockings, while I occasionally uttered a soft 'ooooh' or 'mmmmm.' 

Finally, I indicated it was time to stop and said "That was nice, you did that very well! I should really have you learn more how to care for my feet. Maybe I should have you learn how to do pedicures for me. That would be nice, don't you think?"

"Uhn-Huhn."

"But I don't need one now, so we'll do that some other time. Right now I'd like you to learn how to do my nails for me. Go get the red box that's on the bureau and bring it here."

When you returned I had already removed my pantyhose and was sitting in the chair with my foot propped on the low stool. I directed you to sit at my feet and open the box, which was full of all sorts of things for foot care, including a little rack that held ten different colors of nail polish. For the next hour I gave you detailed instructions on how to paint my toenails, and coached you closely, giving you guidance and pointing out your mistakes. After each coat of polish on each nail you were to blow gently on them to dry them. While you did this I smiled contentedly and remembered back to when I had first thought of doing this, so many months ago. Finally they were all done, each with two coats of a deep burgundy red and a clear topcoat. 

I pulled my skirt up to my knees and admired my nails as rolled my feet back and forth , "Very lovely! Aren't they pretty? I'll have to let my sissy maid do my nails more often."

I picked up the little rack of nail polishes and held it atop the bunched skirt in my lap as I looked through them. You figured that I'd have you do my fingernails next, perhaps in another color. For the first time that evening you got a peek up my skirt, enough to tell that I was wearing peach-colored panties again. You tried your best not to look, tried to be good, but it was so hard. 

I held out three different colored bottles of polish, in pink, bright red, and a pale peach and asked, "Which of these do you think is prettier?" 

Without hesitation you answered, "Peach." Your mind was still back on the panties.

"Good choice. I think the others would have clashed with the yellow of your panties," as I held the bottle of peach polish out to you.

Your mind whooshed back from the panties to what I just said and did a double take. "What? Did you just say . . ., oh no, not that! Please, not that!" You looked at the little bottle of polish with dread as the panic started to rise up.

"What's the matter, now? It's just a little polish to make them pretty, and besides, you need the practice, it will do you good."

"Not that. Please! Please don't make me! Please!"

"Oh, but I want you to, so you must!" you said with a smile, "A sissy maid should have pretty toes." 

Tears started to roll down your face, and I said, in the most supportive, nurturing way, "That's OK, there, there, its OK for my sissy maid to cry. Go ahead and let it out. Let out all that shame and regret," and you buried your face in my lap and let the tears pour out as hugged you and kissed your head. As your breathing settled down you took my comforting to signify a reprieve and that I might finally relent. Not so.




Threshold of Desire Ch. 4



I tenderly said to you, "All better, now? Good, all past the tears and ready to get started." 

You were too emotionally wrung out to resist anymore. You picked up the little bottle and, just as I had taught you to do with mine, painted your nails with the peach-colored polish, while occasionally stopping between sniffles to wipe back a tear. 

"That wasn't so bad now, was it. And they're so very pretty, too! Don't you look lovely, dear!"

You felt so confused. Part of you loathed the humiliation and degradation, and wanted to hate me for putting you through it. But then you felt your self liking how it felt to be shaved all over, liking how the panties made you feel so submissive, feeling forbidden urges to look and act and be feminine, admiring your toes and feeling proud and happy that they were so pretty. Those emotions made you feel at peace, and an overwhelming deep love for me. And you felt eternally grateful to me for pulling the feelings from so deep within you. 

It was as if you had passed through an invisible inversion barrier and what had but moments before been excruciatingly tormenting had transcended into blissful ecstasy far beyond any emotional high that you had ever known before. Spontaneously, you fell to your hands and knees and began to kiss my feet, to show me the depth of your love and how much you appreciated everything that I had put you through. You were bursting with emotion as you kissed and caressed my feet, so passionately. 

I rode your burst of passion, like a wild unbroken horse, until it gradually settled enough to rein in and I could softly, lovingly take control. Your passionate caresses had subsided into more attentive nibbling kisses, with occasional, shyly exploring tickles from your tongue. I sensed that you wanted to go farther to please me, which is what I wanted too. 

"Tell me now, tell me you love it. Tell me how much you love being my sissy panty maid, tell me everything!" 

In between licks you blurted out, "Thank you for making me shave all over. And wear panties. And serve you. I love that you made me feel so girlish. And made my paint my toenails! I want to be your panty maid! I want you to make me love it. I wish you could fuck me like a girl! Oh, I want to please you so much! It's all I want! Just to please you! Ohhh, I have to lick your feet all over."

I encouraged you to lick my feet with a more open expression of your affection and desire to pleasure me. You licked with more urgency and enthusiasm now, all over the top, sides, and even bottoms of my feet, covering every part. The physical sensations felt so intensely good that it was all I could do to stay in control, and I was moaning almost constantly. And the emotional intensity that I felt from you was overwhelming. This was how we were meant to be, in our slow dance of dominance and submission. 

You explored my toes now with your tongue, licking along the tops and bottoms, and probing gently between the toes. You sucked each little toe one by one while swirling your tongue around it. Then looked up at me lovingly as you took the big toe in your mouth, and sucked it. "Ohhh, that's so good! Ohhh, that's it, suck it for me, suck it like a cock! In and out! Ohhhhh, fuck!" 

I was diddling myself now as you sucked my toes, "The other one now, quickly! Ohhhh, fuck it with your mouth! Do you like . . ohhh! . . being . . ohhhh! . . my . . toesucking . .ohhhhh! . . no!, cocksucking . .ohhhhh! . . panty slave . .Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh, Fuck!" as you came hard.

You gently held my feet and kissed them as I came down. You seemed to know instinctually not to stimulate me too much, just let me feel caressed and loved. 

Finally after a long while I said to you "Tomorrow, my love, tomorrow. You did well tonight. Such a good panty maid for me. Tomorrow, be ready for me and I'll let you have some and take you to places you've never been before. 

© Cuthbert May 1, 2000. All rights reserved. Cuthbert555@aol.com