6 comments/ 8427 views/ 12 favorites Slave Georgina's Date By: Slave_Georgina My thanks go to Mistress Leigh for giving me the experience and allowing me to publish. My thanks also go to SlaveGirl 70 for her insight and editing assistance. ***** I stood there, naked as usual, with a quizzical look on my face. To my complete surprise, today's list of clothes was nothing like the usual elegantly sexual dress and lingerie, body hugging nylon and lycra or rubber fetish wear that Mistress usually wears to work, but a selection of simple clothes that any woman might wear for the day. There was also a selection of male clothing! No man stayed last night so what these were for was beyond me, but as instructed, I entered the walk-in wardrobe (a converted box room) and sought out the items listed. Mistress Leigh's clothing for the day consisted of a pair of standard knickers and smooth cupped bra, both in white cotton. A pair of 20 denier shiny nude tights (she always wears stockings. I have never known her to wear tights before!), a pair of denim shorts and a white T-Shirt. I also found the man's items, which were a pair of black briefs, a pair of beige chinos, a pair of brown cotton socks and a dark green, long sleeved, cotton shirt. All of these items seemed quite small for a man, as if they were for a boy, which just confused me even more. There were also two belts; one, a wide black leather Hugo Boss belt, for the man, and the other Yves Saint Laurent, again made from leather but covered with a gold fabric, for Mistress. As is our normal weekday routine, by 7am I was brushing Mistresses hair whilst she checked her e-mails. Today, however, I broke the rules by speaking first and asked Mistress about the man's clothes. "Don't be insolent!" Mistress snapped. "All will be revealed when I decide." At 7.15 Mistress arose from the dressing table and stood by the chaise longue ready to be dressed. As usual I removed her black, silk nightie and held the knickers for her to step into, which she did. Mistress then sat on the chaise longue as I stretched the tights over her feet and started to smooth them up each leg. Not having dressed Mistress in tights before I was at a bit of a loss as to what to do when I reached her thighs, but Mistress stood up to allow the completion of stretching the tights over her upper thighs, hips and waist. I then held out the shorts, which Mistress again stepped into and I pulled them up to her waist. I had to tug quite hard, as they were a very tight fit, but I was aided by the slipperiness supplied by the tights. Before I could close the zip and button Mistress turned around, intimating that I should put on her bra first. I clipped the bra behind her back and when she turned around again I settled Mistresses' size C breasts into the cups. This particular style of bra had the effect of pushing her breasts together and up, thereby emphasising their size and shape. I slipped the T-Shirt over Mistress' head and pulled it down over her body. It was a very snug fit and had a logo on the front which read, "Dream On" in gold glitter and "I'm with him" on the back, in smaller black lettering. I tucked the T-Shirt into Mistress' denim shorts and closed the button and zip before finishing off with a thin, gold belt. To my further astonishment, Mistress now said, "Now it's my turn to dress you. Bring me the grey box from my dressing room." I did so and Mistress removed a prosthetic penis attached to a harness. The penis was designed in such a way that it had a cup shape to the inside, testicles hanging below and a cock ring around the base of the penis to which the harness was attached in four places. Mistress drew the harness up my legs and clipped the belt closed at the small of my back pulling it to a tight fit around my waist and thighs. "Right. Settle the cup firmly onto your vagina whilst I adjust the straps," Mistress instructed. "You will notice it has a hole in the end, just like a real penis. This is the end of a hollow tube running the length of the prosthesis, which will allow you to urinate standing up like any man, and you will do so all day today. To ensure it doesn't leak you will need to hold it firmly against you, just like any man holds his cock to piss. And don't forget to squeeze and shake when you are done otherwise it will drip into your pants." I was flabbergasted! What on earth was going on? The next step was for Mistress to tightly strap down my small size B breasts with flesh coloured latex tape in order to flatten the tell-tale feminine shape from my upper body. Mistress then pulled from the box something I am more used to wearing: a corset. But this was a corset with a difference. I put it on and Mistress laced it up quite tightly around my waist and once it was fitted I could feel it compressing my waist by a few inches, as normal. Mistress then used a small hand pump to inflate pockets around the waist, which straightened out my figure to that of a more shapeless man's torso. The air pockets at the front even gave me a six-pack! I then put on the men's briefs and Mistress helped me adjust my new 5" penis into place. I pulled the trousers up my legs, which were an exact fit for my small frame, explaining why I thought they were for a boy, and held them tightly against my padded corset with the belt. I then donned the shirt, which was a looser fit and so designed, Mistress informed me, to more easily disguise my natural shape. Unfortunately it also hid my new six-pack. Easy come, easy go! I finally sat down and put on the brown cotton socks. Mistress then sat me down at the dressing table and proceeded to clip up my long blonde tresses under a hair net, spreading them evenly over my head, before using hair clips to hold in place a man's style wig of collar length, short black hair. The final touch was a small black moustache, å la Errol Flynn or David Niven, held in place with theatrical glue as used for movie special effects make-up. The transformation was astonishing. I now looked like a young man, albeit a somewhat effeminate one. "Go and make us both some tea and toast for breakfast and I will join you shortly," Mistress said as she sat back in front of the mirror to complete her own make-up for the day. Mistress will 'join me' for breakfast? This was becoming a very strange day. I walked downstairs with some very strange feelings, both emotional and physical. The attachment between my legs seemed to get in the way with every step, despite being firmly held in place by the harness and pressed against me by the briefs. And after almost two years of my legs being constantly and tightly cocooned in either nylon or rubber it was odd to feel material rubbing against them as I walked. I prepared some more tea, made some toast and, as instructed, set the dining room table for two with a pot of English Breakfast tea and milk. With the toast I laid out some butter, marmalade, honey, raspberry jam and a bowl of assorted fruit. Mistress joined me after about ten minutes having applied her cosmetics simply and found me standing next to the table, nervously waiting. "Sit. Join me. Eat something," Mistress stated, "and I will explain what is to happen today." As we sat and drank tea and ate toast together, I felt extremely self conscious and uncomfortable, not only because of my new body parts and look but also because I was not used to being treated as an equal. Mistress began her explanation of what was going on. "Today you are my boyfriend, suitor or whatever you will, and are taking me out on a date to impress me. You are in charge. I am NOT your Mistress today and you will NOT call me that. Neither are you to call me by my name. I am sure you can think of a pet name or two for me to use throughout the day. You are to be romantic and chivalrous at all times and treat me like the woman you wish to attract and keep. I will follow your lead and behave as would any woman being 'pursued' by a wannabe partner or husband." "There is a wallet full of cash for you on the hall table", she continued, "and you are its custodian. Spend it as you wish to impress your 'sweetheart'. I will tell you what you need to know as the day progresses. Finally, to pass as a young man, you will need to lower the pitch of your voice when you speak and walk with a manlier gait. To do that you need to forget your training and walk with your feet parallel, instead of in line, and with long strides. I know it will be difficult to remember, but I am sure you will manage. Hopefully the unfamiliar genitalia between your legs will assist in keeping your legs apart as well as being a constant reminder. When we are done with breakfast you can clear away the things and then call a cab to take us to Waterloo station." Yet another strange occurrence, as I have never known Mistress to use the train. We finished breakfast in silence, Mistress reading the newspaper whilst I nibbled at my toast and honey trying to make sense of what I had just been told. By the time Mistress had finished breakfast my mind was a whirlwind. I cleared the breakfast things away but when I telephoned the cab company I completely forgot about lowering my voice. Never mind, they couldn't see me so I suppose it didn't matter this time. On the table next to the phone were the house keys and the wallet Mistress had mentioned, stuffed full of cash. I put the wallet in the back pocket of my chinos and closed the pocket's button. I was daunted by this as having not been out in the big, wide world by myself for almost two years I had no idea how much things now cost, but there was a lot of cash in the wallet. Mistress joined me in the hallway, gave me the keys and reminded me that I was in charge, and sat on one of the chairs by the telephone table and kicked off her slippers. It was only now that I realised I was wearing my mule 'slippers,' which I had put back on as habit after earlier donning the socks. Pink, fluffy 3" heels must look most incongruous with my male attire. Mistress also noticed and laughed out loud. "I think you may get some pretty strange looks wearing those today," she chuckled. "You will find our footwear for the day at the front of the shoe cupboard." I retrieved said footwear from the cupboard and helped Mistress into a pair of long, black, thigh high boots that had a 4" Cuban heel and extended half way up her thighs, leaving only a few inches of her shiny nylon tights visible between them and the cropped, tight shorts. Mistress folded down the top 3" of the boots, pirate style, which now left about 5" of visible nylon clad thigh. I must admit that Mistress looked pretty hot in this outfit, especially the way the shorts clung to her shapely behind. The boots showed off her beautiful, long legs and the tight T-shirt emphasised her firm breasts. Mistress then picked up a small, black leather handbag, which she slung over her left shoulder, ensuring the strap crossed between her breasts to further enhance her cleavage. My shoes were a pair of lace-up, brown leather 'Oxford brogues' with a heel of about half an inch making us look totally mismatched. A young, nervous, effeminate looking 'boy' of only 5'7", plainly dressed, paired with a confident, sexily outfitted, older woman (with all due respect, Mistress) who towered over him at 6'2". The ultimate odd couple! The cab had arrived promptly and it was a little before 9am when I locked the apartment door as we left (another weird feeling). I completely forgot to pay the cab driver as we got out at the station and Mistress had to nudge me to remind me. As we walked into Waterloo station I tried to affect a male 'swagger' and Mistress grabbed my hand and smiled at me. I nervously smiled back and we continued on to the ticket office. "Two returns to Chertsey," Mistress whispered in my ear as we approached. I nervously requested these tickets in such a false low voice that the woman behind the window looked at me strangely, and then smiled. I have no idea if this was because she saw through my disguise or just thought I was a nervous young man, but I think the former was more likely. We proceeded to the busy platform and, as we waited for the train to arrive, I suddenly realised how small I felt. During my time with Mistress I had always worn heels of at least 5" when around other people, and a minimum of 3½" with Mistress herself when she was barefoot. I had become accustomed to being 6' tall, give or take an inch, when with other people. Today I was only 5'7" and for the first time in ages I felt lost in the crowd as almost everyone on the platform was at least my height or taller. Mistress bent down, hugged me and kissed me firmly on the lips for all to see. Mistress elbowed my arms towards her and, having got the hint, I clasped her firmly in return. "I am so looking forward to today, Darling." she cooed in my ear as we broke our embrace. This was definitely turning into a most surreal experience! The train journey was just over half an hour and we spent this time making romantic small talk interspersed with the occasional kiss and cuddle. I cast my mind back to my university years and tried to remember how my boyfriend treated me back then when we went places together. Mistress was calling me 'Darling' so I started calling her 'Honey,' which was his pet name for me. The looks we got from other passengers ranged from curious stares to downright distaste. I was beginning to think it was obvious that I was a woman posing as a man, at least when under closer inspection. Or maybe I was just being paranoid? I mentioned this to Mistress, but she assured me that it was just the general reaction of different people to a loving couple snogging in public? We disembarked the train at Chertsey and Mistress instructed me to get a cab to Thorpe Park. OMG! We are going to a theme park for the day. I had been to a theme park once before with my university boyfriend and enjoyed most of it, although some of the rides were really scary. With me being in charge for the day, can I refuse some rides, or does Mistress expect me to 'man up' and go on everything? I guess the latter applies, as I am ultimately still her slave. We got to the park, and this time I remembered to pay the cab driver as we exited. We again held hands and joined the queue for tickets. As I had been earlier informed that money was no object, I purchased two 'fast track' passes along with the entry tickets, which allowed us to jump the queue at every ride for the whole day. I know Mistress never likes to wait for things and I think she was pleased as she smiled at me when I did so. Once through the gate the first thing I purchased, as instructed in the cab, was a refillable drink bottle, which I immediately had filled with coke and started drinking. Mistress wanted me to use the toilet several times today so I was to drink a lot. After two cups of tea this morning I already needed to use the bathroom and was somewhat apprehensive about doing so. "Do you mind holding my drink, Honey," I asked stiltedly, "whilst I use the toilet?" "Of course not, Darling." Mistress replied with a smile. I headed for the toilet block and caught myself almost going into the ladies. I casually changed direction, hoping nobody had noticed, and continued towards the gents' door. Obviously I knew of the layout of a gents' toilet, in comparison to a ladies, but I was not fully prepared for the impact of the feeling I had of being in the 'wrong' place. I was so nervous about standing at a row of urinals, next to a line of men with their cocks out, and I desperately tried to act natural as I crossed the room to do something I never had before. I suppose I could have used a stall, but if Mistress questioned me later I know I would be unable to lie to her and would be in trouble after all the effort she had gone to arranging the day. I moved to the urinal in the corner and stood at an angle in order to hide myself from the rest of the room. I unzipped my trousers and struggled to pull my 'penis' out from the briefs. I finally got it free and, as instructed, pressed it firmly against my vagina and tried to pee. This was not as easy as it might sound at first, as I have never urinated from a standing position. I had to overcome the overwhelming impression that I was about to wet myself and force myself to ignore the natural tendency to try to stop peeing. It seemed like ages before I could force myself to complete the 'task at hand.' What a strange feeling it was. There I was, feeling like I was wetting myself, but actually watching a stream of piss pouring out of the end of a 5" long, 2" diameter, tube of rubber I was holding in my hand. I realise this was as natural as night and day to a man, but it felt really weird to me. When my flow finished, I squeezed the latex phallus in my hand and shook it so vigorously that a man at the next urinal gave me a strange look. I again struggled to replace it in my briefs but eventually succeeded and finally closed the zip on the trousers. I went to the sink to wash my hands and as I did so I noticed in the mirror how red and flushed I looked. My uneasiness and embarrassment with the situation was plain for all to see but the reason for it was no doubt a mystery to those same observers. I rejoined my girlfriend (as I will now call Mistress) outside on the terrace around the entrance building and joined her in surveying what we could see of the park from here. "Are you alright, darling?" she enquired as I stood next to her. "Yes, honey, I'm fine, thank you," I responded. "Just a little disconcerted and self-conscious." "Don't be. You're doing fine." she reassured me. "Have another drink and let's get on a ride." It was now ten-fifteen and we made our way down the steps into the park proper. Needless to say that during the day we went on a number of roller coasters and, in contrast to my manly appearance, I screamed like the girl I am on all of them despite myself! Surprise, surprise, eh? Within an hour I began to relax, in no small part to my girlfriend making me feel more and more comfortable about the situation with her small talk and jokes, etc. Mistress really was behaving as if she was just out on a date with her boyfriend. Most of the time spent walking between rides was done holding hands and whenever we were in one of the fast track queues we tended to have a short kiss, or sometimes a bit longer if it seemed to annoy someone nearby. By lunch we had been on half a dozen or more rides and I had been to the toilet again, but felt less anxious on this occasion. We had lunch at a KFC, which I chose, as I hadn't had fried chicken for about two years and I really fancied it once I caught the smell. I had to eat mine carefully, as I didn't want to get the grease on my moustache and have it fall off during the afternoon, but otherwise it was most enjoyable. With all the walking and standing around, I had gotten used to my male parts during the course of the morning and had lost my feeling of self-conscious paranoia. After lunch however, as we strolled around the park towards the next ride, another less predictable problem soon made itself known. I had spent the last 21 months or so in servitude with Mistress, and during that time the smallest heel I had been permitted to wear were my 3½" mule slippers. The only time I did not wear heels was in the shower or at night whilst asleep in bed, but I was even required to wear my slippers if I left my bed to use the bathroom during the night, which was admittedly a rarity. Generally, throughout the day my various uniforms consisted of five or six-inch heels. It had taken some time to become accustomed to constantly wearing such towering heels and when I first began my servitude the balls of my feet were killing me by the end of each day and even the 3½" heels were a blessed relief. However I was now completely acclimatised to tall heels and thought nothing of wearing them all day. Today it seemed I was having exactly the opposite problem as my feet, and especially my calf muscles, were really beginning to ache due to the total lack of heel on the shoes I was now wearing. Who would have thought that NO heels could be painful? Slave Georgina's Date After lunch we continued to enjoy the day and the rides, including a few more uses of the same serious roller coasters. We also had a go on the dodgem cars, which was great fun as I crashed and smashed my way around the arena. I had begun to ignore other peoples' looks in our direction after my girlfriend assured me it was her they were ogling, or maybe just the large difference in our respective statures, and that I was no more feminine looking than a number of other young men she had spotted during the day. All day I kept feeling the need to adjust the position of my penis as it continually moved into an uncomfortable orientation. My Girlfriend noticed my predicament and assured me that it was "normal for a man to 'fine-tune' the arrangement of his genitalia several times a day," as she put it. I couldn't help chuckling at this, and most definitely felt less uneasy with this necessity afterwards. In fact, in light of her comment, for a while I paid particular attention to other men and noticed that my girlfriend was indeed correct. The majority of them weren't even surreptitious about it! By the time we left the park just before 7pm, I had gotten through the best part of three litres of assorted soft drinks in my refillable mug and used the toilet thrice more and was getting quite comfortable with my penis, however strange it still felt. Anticipating a long return journey ahead I went one last time on the way out of the park. As we left the park and approached the taxi rank my girlfriend whispered in my ear, "Now to dinner. Instruct the driver to take us to the Loch Fyne restaurant in Egham." Dinner! I was expecting that we would be on our way home, where I could slip back into a comfortable pair of heels, and now we were off to dinner? Oh well, at least we would be sitting down and giving my legs a rest. On arrival at the restaurant I discovered that there was already a reservation for two, at seven thirty, in the name of George Darling, which was apparently my full name in this particular guise. Apt, I thought. As we were shown to our table I thought I noticed a slightly disdainful look from the Maître d' in the direction of my Girlfriend. It wasn't until later, as the restaurant began to fill, that I realised why. It would seem that my Girlfriend was somewhat vulgar in the way she was dressed for what was quite a chic and reserved establishment. It made me giggle when I remembered that scene with Richard Gere and Julia Roberts in 'Pretty Woman.' "What are you chuckling at?" my girlfriend asked. I told her and she laughed out loud saying that was probably why we were ushered to a corner table. It was at this point that she immediately half rose, leaned across the table and kissed me full on the lips whilst flaunting her tightly clad, sexy arse at the rest of the diners. "Might as well give them what they expect," she stated as she resumed her seat. I was quite nervous about choosing what to eat but my girlfriend, reverting briefly to being my Mistress and speaking in a harsh whisper, reminded me that I was supposed to be, 'impressing my date,' and that money was no object. So when I perused the menu I chose what I wanted to eat rather then what I felt I should eat. When the waitress arrived she gave us a big, genuine smile. I think she was secretly happy with our aggravating the Maître d'. She asked us if we would like a drink whilst we studied the menu. "Champagne I think, darling," stated my Girlfriend, "as we are celebrating." "Oh, really? What are you celebrating, if you don't mind my asking?" the waitress enquired. "Our second anniversary," replied my girlfriend. "And it calls for a bottle of your finest Champagne, if you don't mind Darling." "Not at all, Honey." I responded. "Certainly, and congratulations to you both!" As she walked away I looked quizzically across the table at my girlfriend and said, "But I didn't become your..." I caught her frown. "Sorry! Er...'move-in' until October of 2013." "But don't you remember, we first met on this day in 2013," she replied. "It just took another three months for us both to be sure it was what you really wanted." Now that she mentioned it I realised that was indeed so. On the evening of Tuesday the 23rd of July, 2013, we met at a pub where a friend of my ex-boyfriend had invited me for a drink to celebrate his birthday. Our chat eventually turned to Mistresses work and personal activities, which peeked my interest in her, but that is a story for another day. The waitress returned to exchange the glasses on the table with champagne flutes and shortly after the wine waiter arrived with the champagne and showed me the bottle. I nodded my acceptance and was poured a drop to taste. I did so and approved the champagne even though I had no idea whether it was adequate. After the waiter had poured our champagne my girlfriend sipped from her glass and nodded her approval. Phew! By the time the waitress returned we had both made our choices and, as chivalry dictates, I ordered for the pair of us. For my girlfriend I ordered 6 Loch Fyne Oysters to start, followed by Pan-fried Megrim Sole with a burnt butter sauce, new potatoes, capers and a green salad. I chose Roasted Field Mushrooms with Goat's Cheese served on toast, with wilted spinach, basil pesto and pine nuts as my starter, and for my main course I selected Poached Loch Fyne Smoked Haddock accompanied by Colcannon mash, whole-grain mustard sauce, soft-poached egg and buttered samphire. This turned out to be probably the best meal I had ever eaten. Don't get me wrong, boyfriends in the past had taken me out to restaurants, but nowhere as nice as this. Also, despite on occasion cooking some very nice food for Mistress and her guest or guests, I have never eaten this well at home. There were only ever enough ingredients for the number of people present and on those occasions I was allowed only any leftovers that may have remained. My food at home was generally quite basic and I never ate the same as, or with, Mistress which was why today's breakfast, lunch and now dinner were all so atypical of the life to which I had become accustomed. Our food was excellent and a second bottle of the Bollinger Special Cuvee Champagne was ordered during the main course (I was beginning to feel tipsy even before this point). For dessert I had the Pimm's Jelly, a concoction of fresh fruits, cucumber, and mint granita in a jelly made from, you guessed it, Pimms. My girlfriend ordered a classic Crème Brûlée, which arrived with shortbread finger biscuits, which was followed by coffee and liqueurs. An americano and Grand Marnier was ordered for the lady, and a mocha and Disaronno for me. I was definitely well on the way by now, having drunk a good three quarters of a bottle of champagne and a strong liqueur. This was the first alcohol I had drunk since I became a slave and I think that fact was obvious to anybody who took more than a passing interest in me. I wasn't 'falling down drunk,' but I was most definitely impaired which was proven by the fact that I didn't stop chattering, mostly about the great day I had experienced. My girlfriend, of course, was entirely used to consuming alcohol and took it all in stride. I did my best to behave with decorum when I paid the bill and asked for a taxi to be ordered to the station and, with a little help from my companion, managed to leave the restaurant without making a fool of myself. The train journey back to Waterloo was spent kissing and cuddling without any circumspection on my part. My free rein for the day, having been not only treated as an equal but put in charge of most things by Mistress and having consumed more alcohol than was prudent, my inhibitions had entirely deserted me and I was keen to show my love for Mistress. And neither was I discouraged from doing so. Had I been in possession of real male genitalia I am certain it would have been erect by that point. Another cab from Waterloo and we were outside the apartment block and I was fumbling for the keys to the street door. After gaining entry it was easier to get into the apartment itself as I already had the keys in hand. We stepped through the door into the hallway of the apartment proper and then I suddenly found myself pinned against the wall! "I want it tonight," my girlfriend whispered huskily in my ear, "and you are going to give it to me! Take me now. Role-play the lustful, horny boyfriend. Be rough!" It may have been the physical closeness of Mistress and her 'orders,' or the parity I felt with her after being treated as an equal all day. It may have been the emotional intensity of the moment after the best part of two years' unrequited desire towards her, or the effect of the alcohol I had consumed. Whatever it was, and I suspect it was a complicated combination of all of the above, I needed no further urging. I spun my girlfriend around and pushed her against the wall with one hand on each breast as I squeezed them tightly. She leaned her head back and whispered, "Yes!" I pressed her bosom into her torso for a few seconds then, as my right hand cupped her crotch, I grabbed my girlfriends T-shirt by the neck with my left hand and pulled her head down to me, planting a long lustful kiss full on her lips. I raised her to her toes and lifted her up by the vagina, whilst continuing to hold her head down for the kiss. I came up for air and, turning her again, backed her towards the stairs where she stumbled and fell backwards into a sitting position. Taking advantage of her position, I unzipped and pulled off her boots, throwing them aside before returning my attention to her bust. Whilst I continued to massage her breasts, She reached around my arms, seized one half of my shirt in each hand and literally tore it off me, spraying herself with buttons in the process as I heard material ripping, before casting it aside. I kicked off my shoes and knelt astride her body on the stairs, pulling her T-shirt up and over her head. As I freed it from her arms I threw it over my shoulder, grabbed one of her wrists, stood up and stumbled up the stairs dragging my girlfriend to her feet behind me. We reached the top landing and as I turned towards her bedroom she pulled me back and once more pinned me to the wall. She grasped my 'penis' with her right hand and used her left on the back of head to hold me in another passionate kiss. This was now much less of a stretch without my girlfriend in her heels as there was only a three and a half inch difference in our height instead of the previous seven. As we kissed I reached behind her and unclipped her bra and then once more spun her around so that she had her back to the wall. I pulled away from the kiss and her bra fell to the floor. Looking back on it now we were like two teenagers frantically discovering passionate lust for the first time. It was quite an extraordinary feeling. We 'rolled' along the wall to her bedroom door, each of our backs against the wall in turn, We stopped as I dropped to my knees, undid her belt, button and zip and peeled her shorts down her sleekly encased legs. As I stood to open the door she stepped out of her shorts and then dragged me to the bed. She pushed me backwards onto it and fell on top of me, but I quickly reversed the situation by rolling her off of me and taking up the dominant position astride her thighs. I pulled her tights and knickers down her thighs and then raised myself off them and continued the process until they were wrapped around her ankles, holding them together. I spent the next few minutes as I had done many times before over the last twenty plus months, with my mouth pleasuring my girlfriends vagina and clitoris, extracting moans of satisfaction from her. After three or four minutes I sat up, shuffled forward a little and I leaned over her and took a breast in my mouth and teasing the nipple with my tongue. At the same time I squeezed the other nipple very hard, between the forefinger and thumb of my right hand. This elicited a loud gasp from my girlfriend, which brought me back to reality with a jolt and stopped me in my tracks. I released her nipples, sat upright and looked at her with concern. Was I now in deep trouble for hurting Mistress? In all the time I had known her I had never before caused her pain. What sort of dreadful punishment would this evoke? She immediately took advantage of the situation, threw me to one side of the bed and mounted me across my thighs. "You shouldn't have stopped, George. I was enjoying that." As she finished saying this my Girlfriend leaned forward and fixed my lips with another kiss. She raised her hips to allow her hands access to my groin area and undid the belt, button and zip on my trousers. I was unable to do any more than wriggle, pinned as I was at both ends with her lips pushing my head into the bed and my lower legs trapped underneath the tights and knickers that held her ankles together. My Girlfriend broke the kiss, sat up on my knees and pulled my trousers and briefs halfway down my thighs. She then raised a finger in front of my face as she said, "One moment." My Girlfriend then reached across me to the bedside cabinet and opened the drawer. She retrieved a small thin rod, which she inserted into the hole in the end of my 'penis,' This had the effect of stiffening the whole thing just like an erection. She then reached back into the drawer and removed a tube of lubricating gel, which she proceeded to apply to the now very stiff rubber phallus. My girlfriend had obviously had this all planned right from the morning! As she rubbed the gel in she said, "Now you can pleasure me just like a real man." She then threw the tube aside on the bed, grabbed my wrists and held them down either side of my head as she raised her groin above mine. My girlfriend slowly lowered her vagina onto the prosthetic penis until it was engulfed to the hilt. By now her feet were either side of my thighs, which were held in place by the tights and knickers stretched over them. She began to fuck herself on the dildo, slowly at first, and then with increasing vigour. I did my best by raising my hips to meet her downward thrusts but she was doing most of the work and most certainly getting the lion(ess)'s share of the fun. Her moaning grew in its intensity until she finally came all over my lower torso and collapsed on top of my inflated corset and still taped breasts, her chest heaving as she recovered her breath. After a few moments I grasped my girlfriend's body in my arms and rolled her over and as I clung to her I desperately tried to remain inside her but, despite my best efforts, my 'penis' broke free. As we were now separated anyway, I took the opportunity to fully divest myself of my trousers and briefs, which I threw on the floor. I applied a little more gel to my fake cock and the tube joined the clothing on the floor. My girlfriend's breathing was still a little laboured as I spread her knees and mounted her. As her ankles were still joined together, a diamond shape was described by her now open knees and I settled into that space as I re-entered her. I began to pump slowly and as I did so I gyrated my hips slightly in order that my erection would stroke and massage the side walls of my girlfriend's vagina. I remember that one of my boyfriends did this when we had sex and the feeling was often wonderful. As I pumped away I began sweating, and the fact that I was wearing a wig, still taped and clothed in an inflatable corset certainly did not help me remain cool. I had no way of knowing how long I was supposed to continue as there was obviously no feeling in my 'penis' so I was never going to climax and ejaculate. "I suppose I just keep going until I collapse," I thought. This problem was soon resolved, however, as my girlfriend somewhat quickly reached a second orgasm and I was saved that embarrassment. Now I too was exhausted, collapsed on top of her body and we lay together, panting as one, until I slid slowly off to one side. We lay in each other's arms for about ten minutes and then my girlfriend said, "Thank you, Georgina. I hope you enjoyed today as much as I did, at least up until the sex, anyway. You did very well today and I am sure you would make any girl a wonderful boyfriend." she smiled and continued, "And as the sex was so good I will most certainly reward you for that as well. Now let's clean ourselves up, but do not remove any of your male accessories, other than this." Mistress then removed the rod from my 'penis' and, as expected, it instantly returned to a flaccid state. After we both finished, Mistress instructed that I join her for the night, still as a male, and I was to remain so until it was time to wake in the morning. It was most certainly strange trying to sleep in my male 'apparatus' and to be honest I didn't sleep at all well that night, mostly just dozing off now and then, but, it was so worth it! During the night, the moustache had fallen off, the wig had come loose and my 'penis' had migrated northward towards my belly button. In the morning, I collected the trail of discarded clothing as I settled back into my usual routine and before I woke Mistress for work. And so life went back to normal. If I hadn't still been taped, clothed in a tight corset, albeit now deflated, and sporting a 5" prick, I would probably have rejected the previous days events as merely a dream. If this was for the second anniversary of just meeting each other, what could Mistress have planned for the second anniversary of my becoming her slave?