The last thing he saw, just before she lowered the blindfold over his eyes, was her smile. It was not a mean or malicious smile, but it was far from sweet and innocent. It was loving, but it was mischievous; comforting, but dangerous. Her crimson-nailed fingers reached for the blindfold and grasped it with both hands and she paused, drinking in his expression of aroused trepidation. He trusted her, fully, but she’d been pushing the envelope a lot more these days than she ever had in the past. He was at once excited and terrified to learn, first hand, what she was now capable of…..
It all started in the hotel room. He had booked them a couple of nights in a resort so they could escape life for a little while, just the two of them. Her parents agreed to watch their kids, so on the way they dropped them off, kissed them goodbye, and then were off for their long-overdue getaway. Neither could have predicted how drastically things would change in just a few hours.
After checking in, they made their way down to the bar for a drink. Well, a couple of them, actually. She ordered a Cosmo and he a beer, and they toasted their mini-vacation. Amidst the chit-chatting and people watching, the TV in the bar was showing a documentary wrapped around the lifestyle of Christian and Anastasia from 50 Shades of Grey. Leather, bondage, domination – it was eye candy for a kinky couple who had enjoyed that dynamic years ago, long before life got in the way all the time.
After a few hours of innuendo, more drinks, and sexual buildup, they took their drinks back to their room and proceeded to lose their clothing. All was going as it usually did, until he was on top of her, thrusting in and out, when he felt her reach her hands down and grab his ass. She rubbed it a little as they made love, and her hand lifted off. She returned it gently and rubbed some more, and he enjoyed the sensation. As their eyes met, her inhibitions crumbled, and she raised her hand again. This time, however, she returned it to its starting point, sharply.
It didn’t hurt, at least not too much, but he was stunned. Holy shit, did she just spank me? Her eyes betrayed her feelings, and he could tell she was having 2nd thoughts about what she’d just done……
But he liked it.
“Thank you, Ma’am,” he whispered, “May I have another?”
Instantly, it was as if she morphed into another person. Her eyes narrowed a little, a playful smile creased her lips, and she worked her way out from beneath him. The next hours were filled with the most erotic spanking, pictures, domination and fantasy that either of them had ever known. It carried over into the weeks and months that followed……
Since then, their sex life had improved by leaps and bounds from where it was or ever had been. Mostly, the kink returned, as evidenced by the hundreds of dollars spent on various plugs, vibrators, cages, clamps and other toys.
On this night, as he stood before her devoid of clothes, he took one last glimpse at her ruby-colored lips before his world went dark. She positioned the blindfold right where she wanted it, and was silent. His skin was alive, his penis standing at full attention, awaiting her next move.
She gently brushed a fingernail on his nipple, sending 10,000 volts throughout his body. She loved his hyper-sensitivity when his eyes were covered.
“On the bed,” was her whispered instruction. “Face down. Ass in the air.” He gulped. “Ok,” he stammered.
Forcefully, “I beg your pardon???”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he managed. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s better. Address me properly or you WILL regret it. More than you can imagine.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Not wanting to risk annoying her further, he assumed the position she demanded.
He hated loving this position. Or did he love hating it? It mattered not – he was here, and she was in charge.
He fully expected her to come up behind him, and give him another spanking like she did that first night. But as he ‘feared,’ she had other things in mind. He could hear her moving about on the side of the bed, but it was unclear what she was doing……
He felt the mattress accommodate her joining him on the bed, and she approached him from behind. She did caress his ass, rubbing his cheeks gently, firmly, lovingly. “I just love your ass” she cooed, and he did feel a sense of pride for pleasing her. “I love it so much, I want to take it.” He didn’t really know what that meant, but when he felt the cold lubricant being dripped onto and into his rosebud, he got with the program pretty quickly.
She entered him slowly at first, with her hands on either side of his hips. He felt her pulling him closer to her, slowly, making sure he was fully oiled and ready to accept her. Once she slid his ass all the way to her pelvis, she stopped and listened for his breathing. It was jagged, rough. She reassured him “You should be a little nervous, baby….but you are well loved….trust me…”
“Yes, Chatelaine.” Was all he could utter.
Then, she began to withdraw from him, only to return. Withdraw, return. She settled into a slow, steady rhythm, and whereas he began by being stock still, he eventually began to feel his body rocking
in the opposite direction as hers, in a slow, foreign, sensuous dance he never would have imagined he’d
enjoy.
Faster she moved, and he matched her pace. She reached for his throbbing cock with her hand blissfully covered with oil. As she took him from behind, she was stroking him….it was otherworldly. The conflicting pleasure on his cock slamdancing with his violation….the supreme mindfuck….
When he felt himself approaching nirvana, she released her grip on him but continued her assault. She grabbed his hips tightly, and pounded into him over and over until his moans spiked with each slap of his ass against her. She groaned a low, guttural sound, somehow climbing the mountain herself by how he was reacting to her. Her sexual energy launched, her power manifest….she was high on it.
Abruptly, she pulled all the way out and spanked him hard. He convulsed. She nimbly removed the strap-on harness and leaped onto the bed, spreading her legs in front of him. “Make me cum with that magic tongue of yours, baby.”
He willingly obliged, hungrily attacking her dripping pussy with his mouth.
Within seconds, her back arched and she exploded in a shuddering orgasm that nearly bucked them both off the mattress.
When she recovered, and the aftershocks subsided, she got up from the bed. He felt cuffs being placed on his wrists and ankles and she ordered him on his back. In no position to argue and in great anticipation, he swiftly did as told and only half-pretended to resist as she secured each limb.
Once he was spread-eagle, he felt her straddle his midsection and whisper in his ear, “I bet you want to cum too, huh baby?”
“Oh, yes….yes please.” “Yes please…what?”
“Yes, please Mistress. Please let me cum.”
Her reply shook him to the core, but there remained a trace of hope in it. “Not yet. Maybe later.” No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she impaled herself on his erection, taking all of it into her oh-so-ready pussy. She moaned appreciatively, and sat straight up, reveling in the feeling of his warmth inside her. He too, groaned in pleasure as she rode him.
She reached over to the side of the bed, and he heard the tell-tale hum of her new favorite toy. He felt trace sensations from the Magic Wand when she placed it directly on her clit, rubbing it up down and all around while still sitting still on his member. He could feel her contractions around him, gripping him
tighter and tighter until her next orgasm came……She reached for his chest to balance herself as she involuntarily said “I’m cumming…I’m cumming…I’m cumming!” As the climax enveloped her, she scratched his chest in an effort to hold on to something….
Wave after wave of pleasure swept her away, and he could feel himself getting closer now too. She began to ride him after disposing of the wand, now with both her hands on either side of his head. She lowered her lips to his ear….
“You ready?”
“Oh, yes, please….Mistress please…” “Not yet. Maybe later.”
She abruptly got off of him and off the bed. He writhed against the air, desperate for some kind of friction to bring him that last little way. But there was none to be had.
He felt the coolness of the oil being dripped on him once more, this time on his rock hard dick. She took it in her hand and spread the oil evenly, jolting him with pleasure at every turn.
“We’re just getting started, baby.”
He could only manage a small whimper. And he was afraid that was exactly what she wanted to hear. For the next 100 years, she alternated slowly, quickly, one hand, two hands, up, down, tickle,
release…she was skillfully relentless as she edged him over and over again. He was so close to it, so many times, he didn’t think he could possibly get any closer without cumming. He was wrong.
Each time she asked if he was ready, his reply would elicit the same response. “Not yet. Maybe later.”
He was lost. Time and space disappeared from his world. She knew, every single time, just when to stop….one more stroke would have opened the gates to Shangri-la, but he was repeatedly left just on this side of paradise.
She thundered him back to earth when she pondered, “So, I guess since you haven’t cum yet, you might not really want to. Maybe I should go and get that cage for you?”
“No, please Mistress….I want to cum…”
“Are you sure? Because we’ve been at this for a while now, and you haven’t even come close…”
He almost argued with her, to defend himself against the obvious, but instead wisely managed to reply,
“Please…..please let me cum….”
She grabbed him, and stroked him slowly… “Do you really want to?” She returned him to the precipice. “Oh, Mistress…please..yes….I want to so bad….”
“Or do you really REALLY want me to stop?” Her hand disappeared. “NO! Please don’t stop!” He pleaded with every bit of his body and soul.
“I’ll tell you what. I’m going to go get the cage from the safe, and you lie here and think about it. When I come back, you can give me your answer.”
He felt her get off the bed and heard the key enter the lock for their toy safe. His mind raced in a
thousand different directions….what did he want? He obviously wanted the release. Yes, of course
that’s what he wanted. 100%.
But then why was he thinking about stopping? Why would he consider the intense frustration, both physical and emotional, of being denied?
If he came now, it would all be over. It would feel wonderful, of course, but then it would all end. If he didn’t cum now, there would be more teasing, more sexual playing, and he could stay a little longer in his fantasy world…..
She returned. She laid the cage on his pelvis….Cold. Restrictive. Unforgiving. But oh so erotic.
“So, what’s it gonna be? Do you want to cum or not?”
Being an analyst, he frantically tried to give percentage to his thoughts and feelings. Was he truly 50/50? 60/40? And which way was 60?
He concluded, in all honesty, that he was 100%/100%. He wanted both. But knowing that was impossible, he let out a sigh of exasperation.
“Having trouble deciding?” He nodded, and as he did, it dawned on him.
“Last time I’m gonna ask you, baby. Do you want to cum?”
He knew what his answer was. He knew what to say.
“If it pleases you,” because in the end, it wasn’t up to him anyway.
He could hear her smile return. She reached for him, taking him in her hand, and she stroked him again. He melted under the pleasure.
“Ask me” she said, breathlessly.
“Please, please Mistress……please may I cum?”
She replied, simply, “I love you.” And gave him exactly what he wanted.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
“Present for inspection, baby.”
It was at once both his favorite and most dreaded part of his day. Her voice soft as velvet, but with steel undertones – ‘Show me, but don’t disappoint me.’ He knew that today was “Maybe Day,” the one day this week she might allow him to finally cum. He’d lost track of when his last full orgasm was, by design
– it was easier now to just focus on earning the next one rather than obsessing over how many days have passed since the last one. She controlled that now, his releases….his pleasure. If she wanted him to experience it, he would. Simple as that. More often than not, however, she just wanted to make him, and more accurately keep him, horny.
And she knew exactly how. She knew his darkest, biggest, most powerful fantasy. And she used it to her full advantage.
So much has changed since that night in the hotel, and even more since his first edging and denial.
He stood before her, shaking, knowing that what he was about to reveal was the difference between another week of denial, and the possibility of her mercy. She sat up in the bed, the sleep long gone from her penetrating green eyes, and her smile, THAT smile, on her lips.
He unbuttoned his shirt to reveal the black corset underneath. It pinched his waistline and pushed his chest up and out, leaving a decidedly feminine shape in its wake. He unzipped his jeans and let them fall to his knees, revealing his garter straps that held his stockings in place. His sheer thong unveiled the coup-de-grace, his trapped penis, pointed straight downward in its prison, as if it too was bowing to her.
Her brow furrowed, her smile turned upside down. He could hardly breathe as he watched her eyes move up, down, up, down…..his skin prickled as he withstood the thorough evaluation/ogling she was giving him. When her lips finally re-formed the tiniest of smiles, he exhaled oh-so-slightly.
“Very nice. Very nice indeed. Even more than I was expecting. I can see that your enthusiasm is very high this week.”
He knew she didn’t want to hear him boast about himself. Good submissives don’t do that. “Yes,
Mistress, thank you,” was his one and only reply.
“All right, you can get dressed again. I’ll meet you in the kitchen before you go.”
It was casual Friday at the office, but today’s clothing choice would not lend itself to much comfort. He only hoped it would yield the desired reward. When she directed him to dress this morning ‘in
something girly,’ he would rather overshoot the mark than fall short. If he had disappointed her, his chances for blessed relief would be gone before the day barely started. So far, so good.
As he prepared himself to leave for the day, she met him in the kitchen and grabbed his face with both hands, kissing him passionately. His knees weakened in her embrace, and as her hand trailed down his stomach to grab his frustrated cock, one of his little moans escaped his lips. She loved those little moans.
“Have a great day, Darling. I’ll, uh, be in touch.”
He knew what that meant – her texts, emails and other forms of communication throughout the day
would serve to keep him totally on edge, all…..day…….long.
Once she took control of his orgasms all those months ago, she expertly used each of his fantasies as fodder for his arousal and usually, his denial. It kept him compliant and submissive. She reveled in her control over him, and in his devotion to her and her pleasure. But when she tapped into his fetish for wearing feminine clothing, everything reached an entirely new level.
And this would be a special night. Tonight, he would serve her as he often did, only this time, she would take him to the deepest hidden recess of his psyche.
She didn’t reveal her plan to him, choosing instead to wait and see his reaction when his ultimate fantasy was ‘forced’ upon him. She was wet with anticipation all day long, taking opportunity to pleasure herself at the thought of it more than once as she mapped out the evening in her mind.
She kept him on edge throughout the day, texting pictures of herself and her sex, captioned pictures gleaned from the internet, and perfectly worded innuendo to remind him of what he was hiding underneath his male clothes. Things like “Maybe you should be using the ladies’ room today Darling, because, you know…..” He wasn’t very productive at the office on this day.
Around 4:45, she texted again. “I hope you’re ready for some REAL service tonight.” He wasn’t quite sure how to interpret the cryptic message, so again he simply replied, “Yes, Mistress. I am ready to serve you in every way.”
Just as he was getting in the car, she sent a picture message – this one was nothing but a pair of high heeled shoes that he didn’t recognize. He simply figured she had bought a new pair, she was getting dressed for his arrival, and would be wearing them. She had already taken the kids to their respective overnight stays, so it made sense that she’d be getting ‘in the mood.’
His heart was in his throat as he pulled into the driveway. He walked into the house with great trepidation infused with his weeks of pent-up arousal. He melted at the sight of her, standing in the hallway, wearing only a sheer lacy robe that was not closed. His eyes made contact with her sex, perfectly manicured and already wet. When he returned his eyes to her, she wore a smile he could not interpret. A chill ran up his spine and caused him to strain against his cage for the umpteenth time.
“I got what I think is some great advice today, Darling. Take a look at the computer screen.” He turned and walked into the office, and switched on the monitor. After a few seconds, an image came into focus and his world as he knew it changed forever.
He could not move. He could not speak. In his arousal, his mind tried to process what he was seeing. Could this possibly mean something other than what was so blatantly obvious?
He turned around, and she held out the uniform on a hanger. It was straight from his wet dreams – short, frilly, poofy and oh-so-feminine. He almost exploded right then and there.
Still unable to form words or move muscles, he saw her arch an eyebrow and say, “Well, what are you waiting for? Go shave and get changed. You have a busy night ahead of you.”
He felt his body move, still unable to comprehend what was happening to him. She was making him dress as a maid? To serve her? The restriction of his corset was much more pronounced and he now found himself short of breath. His member strained in vain against its bars. His fantasy was becoming his reality, and he was scared to death.
He arrived in their bedroom after shaving. She laid on the bed and watched as he removed his shirt and jeans. “How very fortunate for you,” she said, “that you’re already half dressed. That leaves more time for service.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he managed as his body shook.
He felt her eyes on him as he took the dress from the hanger, feeling the silky, satiny material, and pulled it over his head. As it slid down and settled into place, he realized that it fit perfectly, like it was…..oh my goodness…..made for him.
“She ordered this……for me…….with MY measurements……” he thought as he almost fainted.
She came behind him and zipped him in. “Allow me,” she breathed into his ear. Every inch the zipper climbed constricted the fabric that much more against his torso, encasing him in the silky cocoon. The zipper continued its climb to his neck, and he felt her mouth near his ear again. “A special little touch,” she whispered, and he felt her manipulating something on the back of his neck. “Recognize this sound?” she asked, and he heard the tell-tale click of a small padlock being snapped shut.
Breath escaped him. “She locked me in this dress…….I can’t take it off……….I’m now, now……., her, maid……MAID…. until she …….dismisses me.”
She handed him his shoes, impossibly high 5” stilettos, and he instantly recognized them as the ones in the picture. No wonder I didn’t recognize them. Without a word, he slid them on his stocking-clad feet, secured the ankle straps, and turned to her. She handed him his petticoat……my petticoat…. And he stepped into it, careful not to catch the tulle with one of his heels. He slid it up to his waist, and smoothed the dress over the layers of frill. It poofed out more than he thought it would, and he stopped trying to process what was happening to him. He sank into that sub-space that allowed him to simply live what she was doing with/to him without trying to ruin it by making sense of it all.
She cut through his fog with one word. “Kneel.”
As if on auto-pilot, he turned to her and got down on his knees. “Give me your hands.” He did as told, and she proceeded to apply false nails to his fingers in brilliant red. She peeled the temporary adhesive from each and secured them to his fingertips. “Some day, we’ll do this for real. We’ll go get manicures together. Would you like that?” He could only manage a nervous nod as he pictured a small oriental woman applying permanent extensions to his nails and then painting them an unhideable shade of pink or red.
She took her make-up bag from the shelf, and began transforming his face from her husband’s to her domestic servant’s. Her FEMALE domestic servant’s. She applied foundation, contour, powder and blush, eyeliner and shadow, mascara, falsies.
He kept his eyes on her as she put his wig on his head, tucking it here and there and fussing with the tendrils and curls. He felt that lovely, alien sensation of long hair tickling his neck and shoulders and felt his arousal again, stymied by the infernal device she kept locked on him.
Still on his knees, she produced a lacy, delicate headpiece that she fastened to his head. “Proper attire, right, Darling? A REAL maid would have to wear one of these.” Again, words failed him as he fell further and further under her spell. Then she hung a pair of dangly earrings to each of his recently pierced lobes.
She gripped his chin lightly and turned his face this way and that, inspecting her handiwork. Happy with her results, she reached into her bag and pulled out the finishing touch – a scarlet red lipstick to match the color of his now long, red nails. She floored him with her next command.
“You do it.”
He swallowed hard. She knew that he felt this was one of the most powerful symbols of femininity – the applying of lipstick. When he dressed on his own, he always saved the lipstick for last, and it completed his transformation from male to female. She guided him to the mirror and stood behind him, watching him from over his shoulder. His crimson nails uncapped the tube, and he turned the base to extend the lipstick. He stared at it for a moment, then turned to look at his reflection for the first time.
His eyes were smoky and sexy. She had accentuated his cheekbones and covered his flaws. His skin looked smooth and delicate. While he could not quite say he looked pretty,…that would be vain… he most definitely looked feminine – results far better than he had ever achieved on his own. He raised his red-nailed hand to his mouth, and slowly concealed the last remnant of his masculinity. He colored his lips the delicious shade of red, marveling once again at the eroticism of applying lipstick to his own lips.
He stood frozen in place, gazing back and forth at the two women in the mirror. She smiled at him and
said “Well, don’t you look pretty.”
“Thank you,” was all his throat could breathily produce.
She nodded, but then her smile quickly faded and her demeanor changed. “Now, missy, stop drooling over yourself and draw me a bath. I have had a long day and I wish to relax. Bring me a glass of wine and arrange for some music in there – something soft and soothing.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he blurted out and scurried to the bathroom as fast as his high heeled feet would allow. He started the water in the tub, warm enough but not too hot, and poured in some suds. As the tub was filling, he fetched her wine and brought it to her on a tray. “Your wine, Ma’am.” She took the glass from the tray, and as he was leaving, she said “Oops, I almost forgot. Come back here a minute.” With great hesitation, he returned to her and stood with his hands behind his back and head down, in perfect submission, as he’d been taught previously.
“Bend over the bed.”
It was all he could do to not pass out. He knew being bent over the bed meant one of two things. Either a spanking, or…..or…
Being violated.
It wasn’t long before he knew it was the latter. She dropped his panties to his knees, and then felt the cool lube being applied into his bottom. It’s not the metal plug, he thought as he felt the intruder being eased into him – only part way at first, then out, then further in, and out, until finally he relaxed enough to accept his fate.
“This is how I am going to summon you when I want something. I have the remote.” He jolted as she turned it on, feeling the intense buzzing from inside him as she kept talking. “No matter what you’re doing, when you feel this, you have 30 seconds to appear in my presence. Understand?”
He could not believe what was happening. Could he go through with this? Did he have a choice? He was leaking pre-cum almost in a steady stream by now.
“Yes, Ma’am, I understand.” And she turned it off and swatted him on the ass anyway, just because she couldn’t resist.
He pulled himself back together and frustratingly adjusted to his new reality. He teetered on his skyscraper heels, making any semblance of hurrying nothing more than a sashay from room to room. But the new plug inside him altered his sense of balance even more, so he was left with short, mincing steps to avoid falling on his face. He even had to extend his hands to keep upright, further enhancing his feminine gait.
He set up her music then led her to the sweet-smelling tub, which was now full. He removed her robe and helped her ease down into the warmth. He handed her the glass of wine, and she started to relax. With her eyes closed, she said “You have a list of chores on the counter. Go.”
He was just given duties. Maid’s duties. “Yes Ma’am,” he said, and turned to leave. Just as he reached the doorway, his bottom exploded in vibration, causing him to scream in shock and lose his balance – only the doorknob prevented him from falling. “Ma’am?”
“I believe a maid should curtsy before leaving her Mistress, don’t you agree?”
He was incredulous. Curtsy? Seriously? I am NOT going to curtsy to my wife!! His eyes met hers. His lips formed a protest, but he was quickly rebuked by the stern expression on her face. He did a quick assessment of the situation, and rather than risk losing his chance at relief tonight, he bit his tongue, apologized for his disrespect, and performed a rather clumsy yet representative curtsy to his Mistress wife. She smiled, turned off the vibrator, closed her eyes and dismissed him again.
Still in shock by what just happened, he fumbled to the kitchen and saw his lengthy list of chores.
What was more distressing than the list itself, was the fact that it had checkboxes for every week of the month. Does she really expect this to last beyond tonight? As he was trying to wrap his head around this, a voice from within him told him he’d best get moving on something, and worry about the rest later. He decided to start at the top, and reached under the sink to grab the dust rag, Endust, and feather duster.
He started in the Living Room. He moved the knick-knacks around, cleaning the surfaces and replacing the dusted items. He’d done this a thousand times before, but now he was dressed as a French maid and teetering on very high heels.
Each and every movement caused his garments to tickle him in one way or another, and his member tried to react to his erotic condition, to no avail. The restriction of the corset and uniform made him slower, however, he soon fell into a rhythm and finished dusting the room. When he advanced to the dining room, he again was jolted completely back to his reality by the sharp buzzing inside him. He dropped the duster and scurried as fast as he could to the bathroom.
He curtsied – wasn’t sure if he needed to, but he did anyway. “Yes, Ma’am? Do you need something?” Coolly, she only said “More wine, missy.”
“Of course. Right away.” He took the glass, curtsied again and fetched a cool glass of fresh wine. When he returned it to her, he asked if she needed anything else.
“Yes, now that you mention it. Shave my legs please.”
He gasped inwardly at the request. They had been married for over 20 years, but this was a level of intimacy that they’d never shared. He reveled in the opportunity to be this close to her and sharing something so erotic, rather than cleaning the house.
After grabbing the shaving cream and razor, he placed a towel just outside the tub and kneeled down. She lifted one leg out of the water and rested it on the spigot, and he lathered her leg. Since she had
been having him keep his own legs shaved, he knew right where the tricky spots were – knee, ankle, at least in his case, top of the foot. He carefully, lovingly, removed the light stubble that had grown in the last couple of days. At one point he did sneak a glance at her, and her eyes were shut. He wondered if she’d been like that the entire time or if she’d been watching him – he decided it didn’t matter one bit.
With the first leg done he proceeded to the other, repeating the process of slowly and carefully shaving her. He marveled at his own hands, with his long red nails, holding a razor and shaving a woman’s legs. The length of the nails was foreign to him but he was grateful that they were not impossibly long. When he completed his sensuous task, he submerged her leg in the water to rinse, and she sighed
appreciatively. “Well done, missy. I see you’ve learned a thing or two. Little did you know that those
skills would translate, huh?” He smiled in embarrassment, only nodding.
“Will there be anything else right now, Ma’am?”
“No, I don’t think so. But you can enjoy this for a little while as you resume your duties.” With that she reached for the remote and switched it on to the lowest setting, producing a soft, low buzz against his prostate that was strangely pleasurable.
“Thank you, Ma’am,” he said as he struggled to his feet, dried himself a little, curtsied again and left the room. The buzzing added a new element to his plight to adjust to, and he did so with great effort. As he cleaned, he worked his way to the full length mirror in the hall. Seeing himself head to toe, dressed as the very object of his own fantasies, his arousal grew. This increased his frustration, which made him more aroused, and he found himself in a vicious circle that literally weakened his knees. He fell against the sofa and slinked to the floor, unable to stop the constant buzzing inside him or his mounting desire. He grabbed himself in a desperate attempt to feel some pleasure, and again, only succeeded in furthering his dissatisfaction. He wiggled on the floor, driving the vibrator further into himself, and actually began to feel a strange tingling throughout his body that resembled the onset of orgasm.
As if she was watching the entire scene, just when he thought he might actually feel relief from the stimulation, the vibrations stopped. He moaned in agonized frustration as he tried in vain to touch himself.
But it was no use. His undergarments and his cage prevented any meaningful contact with his engorged, imprisoned cock. Small tears pooled in the corners of his eyes, which he blinked away. His body shook from being left at the altar yet again. Eventually, he accepted his state of affairs, and resumed his cleaning. After dusting the dining room and bedroom, the buzzing returned – he stopped to see if he could return to that ultra-horny state, but quickly remembered that he was being summoned.
“More wine, missy. And when you get back, I’ll be ready to come out.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Of course.” He minced to the refrigerator and poured more wine. When he returned, he released the water from the tub and turned on the shower head, so he could rinse the soapy water from his Mistress. When it was warm enough, he cleaned her off and helped her step into a towel. He dried her from head to toe, then grabbed her plush bathrobe to wrap her up. She sipped her wine and
warned, “I’m starting to feel a little tipsy, baby, and you know what happens when I get tipsy don’t you?” Flashing back to that night in the hotel room, he shuddered.
“Follow me,” she commanded as she brushed past him and into the bedroom. He dutifully obeyed, trailing in the scent of her fresh, sweet scent. She dropped her robe and climbed onto the bed, laying on her back and spreading her legs. Lustily, she asked, “Still got that magic tongue, even if it’s now wrapped in a girl’s body?”
“Indeed, Chatelaine.” He eyed her with a new sense of appreciation, love and lust. He proceeded to make love to her with his mouth and tongue, kissing and suckling and tickling and licking, using every skill he had learned and some he invented right then and there.
She moaned and twisted as he filled her with pleasure. When she would approach climax, he would back off just enough to not send her over the edge, but enough to keep moving in that direction. After all these years, he knew her signals and how to use them to bring her even higher. In no hurry whatsoever, he expertly performed for her, servicing her orally, making her pleasure all that mattered to him. Her moans became louder until they were screams of want and need, which only served to slow him down even more. The sexual electricity was palpable as her hips ground into him and she pulled his head closer to her, burying his face in her sex. Finally, when he felt she was ready, he quickened his pace on that spot she likes, just underneath her clit and with just the right amount of pressure.
She came within seconds, but it lasted forever. Her entire body shook as she wrapped her legs around his head, trapping him there and milking every last wave of pleasure from her orgasm.
Again and again she bucked against his mouth, drawing even more energy from him and into herself. Her climax went on and on and on, and he couldn’t have been happier. It was the loudest, longest, biggest and best orgasm they had ever shared, and he loved being the one to give it to her.
When she started to return to earth, the aftershocks started and would not abate. He removed his mouth from her but then cupped his hand over her mound, grinding into her and sending her back into a lower orbit. Slowly, delicately, he eased her down the rest of the way, until she settled into a dreamy, post-orgasmic bliss that he could taste. He remained right where he was, not wanting to do anything she might object to or might cause her to feel less than perfect.
After a minute or two or twenty-three, she opened her glossy eyes and looked at him. They narrowed and she said, “You might want to touch yourself up there, missy. You’re a bit of a mess.” He left her with a “Yes Mistress” and walked to the bathroom.
He indeed looked a fright. His lipstick was smeared, his hair disheveled from her grinding, his headpiece
almost falling off. He had no idea how to ‘touch up’ from here, but he did the best he could, taking his time in making himself presentable. After feeling he was at least close to how she’d made him look, he returned to the bedroom.
She had been busy. The bed was now adorned with straps and she was standing with cuffs in her hands. She was wearing some of her sexiest black lingerie and now she too was wearing heels. She had donned some makeup of her own, and she now looked every bit the dominatrix ready to torment her prey.
“Panties off, but everything else stays,” she commanded, and he did not argue. After removing his soaking wet panties, she attached a cuff to each wrist and ankle, then commanded him to lie down. He complied and she straddled him, securing first his right wrist then his left, all the while dangling her gorgeous breasts right in front of his face and yet just out of his reach.
With his wrists secured, she proceeded to his ankles, tying him to the bed spread eagle. His petticoat and skirt rode up, leaving him completely exposed. Again and again he strained against his cage, trying over and over again to achieve just an erection. He lost every time.
“Poor baby……still can’t get a hard-on? Here, let me see if I can help.” With that, she knelt down between his legs and started to lick his balls….gently at first, and then a little harder…..taking one in her mouth and then the other, coyly sucking on them…..he moaned and groaned and made sounds he
wasn’t sure were his as his arousal and denial reached new heights (or depths, depending on your point of view). He about sensed himself leave his own body as he felt, once again, the vibrating plug get switched on while she licked his balls – arousal was everywhere except where he needed it most, and the torture was exquisite.
He pleaded with her and tried to make promises to her, all in exchange for relief from the cage. He
wasn’t even bargaining for orgasm anymore, such was his state of mind and body.
“But I can already get everything you just promised me, Darling…..you’re not arguing from a position of strength I’ll have you be reminded. Just lay there until I decide what to do next…..” His passionate cries went unheeded, yet again.
Time lost all meaning as she drove him higher and higher, while still not granting his long-sought release.
When she stopped licking, and switched off the plug, he was not human anymore. He was an animal, trapped and caged and frantic. He bucked and thrashed and squirmed and struggled...................... but he did
not come.
She laid on top of him as he calmed down enough for her voice to be heard. “If I unlock you, do you think you can stay completely still?”
At last! “Oh, yes! Yes Mistress! I can! I promise I can!” He wasn’t exactly sure he could keep this promise, but the thought of finally being let out of the cage was too much to pass by.
She reached behind her head and unclasped the chain that held the key to his prison. To his freedom. She dangled it over his head, admiringly.
“Who could imagine what such a tiny little key could make a man do... ” Her eyes penetrated his, as she
let the words sink in. He truly would do anything she said. Look at how she got me to dress……
She climbed off him and unlocked him, quickly removing his base ring as well, freeing his sex and inducing the purest of relief-filled moans of appreciation as he sprang to full attention. “Remember, stay still, Darling,” she ordered as she took him fully in her mouth.
He almost came immediately. His legs involuntarily twitched and she stopped, looking at him with mock consternation. He calmed himself and she resumed, expertly manipulating his cock and balls in the most magnificent blowjob she’d ever given him. It took all his effort, even though he was tied up, to not move a muscle.
Once more on the verge, she stopped, and tickled him underneath. “No way, baby. Not like that you don’t.” She removed her panties and mounted him, gloriously engulfing him in her wetness. She rode
him hard and fast, driving him insane once more with need. He wanted, no, needed to touch her, but his bondage prevented him from anything but looking into her eyes, and trying to match the pace of her pounding.
She felt him once again approaching his long-overdue climax, so she slowed her pace and lowered herself to him. Their faces were inches apart, as she drank in the sight of him and his need. She smiled, asking, “Are you ready, my little maid? Are you ready for your reward for your exemplary service to me?”
“Oh, yes, Mistress. I am ready……please…..” “OK, baby…….Let it go…..you’ve earned it…….”
He thrust into her once more and felt the tell-tale onset of his orgasm building in his legs and spreading
rapidly to his groin. Up his shaft it sped until that one last thrust would send him over the edge….
She met his thrust with a clenching of her kegels, and watched as her husband, her maid, her lover, her best friend, enjoy the most spectacular orgasm of his life. His thrashing body and screams of pleasure caused her to come as well – she reached down and held him, squeezing their two bodies as close as they could possibly be. She deftly released his wrists from their restraints, allowing him to return her embrace. He went on and on, grabbing her and thrusting into her again and again, unable to comprehend the intensity of his own body’s response to her. All those weeks of denial multiplied the pleasure he now felt exponentially, and he savored every second of it. He was aware she was holding him - he loved this woman, and always would….this he knew.
When it finally ended, and she had released his ankles, they cuddled, completely spent. As they were drifting off to that wonderful post-sex dreamy sleep, he heard her quietly say, “So, what are you doing tomorrow?”
Writers bio: My name is Shannon Bloom and I am a MTF crossdresser, and lover of BDSM, D/s and kink. I have a part time public persona and have made wonderful friends when out. I've been wanting to dress as long as I can remember, going all the way back to when I was 5.