13 comments/ 54214 views/ 26 favorites My Friday Night By: honey28 A true story, though the names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent... *** "Why don't you get dressed?" I suggest, knowing that he had been waiting for me to tell him to change. Wanting it. Earlier, as we settled into our room, he had stripped down to his shorts so he could put on the chastity device, and gave me the key. We lay on the bed for a while, watching "Story of O." Female submission is something that goes against my nature, and so I found it difficult to really get into the film. I was also finding it hard to concentrate as I lay there in lingerie, he in his white t shirt and boxers, knowing that beneath the cotton was a cock caged in metal rings and leather straps - mine, to do with as I pleased. Wanting to be closer, I sat up and positioned myself so that his body was between my legs, knowing that he would touch them, wrapped in thigh high fishnets as they were, with little black bows along the seam that runs up the back of my calf. They were held up by garter straps attached to a black bustier with pink accents. I put on his collar. (Later, in the throes of my orgasm, I would grab and pull at that collar to the point of nearly choking him - no safe word was uttered, so I didn't hold back.) We watched the movie a little longer, and I idly ran my fingers through his hair, around his collar, over his shoulders. Then, I told him to get dressed. I watch him get ready. A pair of black panties. The black slip with lace at the hem and neckline. "These are the slutty ripped stockings from last time," he remarks as he searches for the second thigh high in his bag. "I like that they're ripped. They make you look like a whore," I tease. I'm glad he saved them, since we inadvertently left the pile of other stockings in last week's room after we sorted through what he calls the travel version of Caligula's sex pit, paring it down to one laundry basket of lingerie, shoes, restraints, and the little cardboard box of dildos that occasionally turn themselves on when jostled in the backseat of his car while he's driving. Bzzzz. As he pulls the second stocking from his bag, another item trails along. "What's that?" "Garter belt." I'm sure my eyes light up. He hasn't worn a garter belt for me before. "Put it on. I want to see." He moves away from the desk, so I can't see him around the corner, but I can see his reflection. Bent over, hair hanging over his face, putting on the piece. "I can see you in the mirror..." He disappears into the bathroom for a few minutes. I smile, finding it endearing that he was embarrassed to have me watch him put it on. When he emerges, he clips the leash to his neck. "Show me." He barely lifts the hem of his slip. "Show me more, I couldn't see! Now, turn around and show me the back." He complies, then shuffles over to the bed, kind of ducking his head in that self conscious way he has when he's in sub-mode. In every day life, Nick is an outgoing, confident guy, which he reverts to as soon as I make him cum. But when that lock clicks shut and it's time to play, he's a little sissy cross-dresser who wants nothing more than to lick my pussy and let me use his body any way I wish. And that's what makes it so damned sexy. He lays next to me on the bed and we kiss, our hands wandering. I run my hands over the smooth fabric of the slip, imagining that he likes the feel of it moving across his skin, and I am delighted by the sharp intake of breath that I hear when my fingers barely graze his caged cock. Usually, I like to take my time and use my hands and mouth all over his body, lick and suck on his cock through the leather and metal device, and drive him absolutely crazy with lust. But I decide that tonight, I will begin the tease by avoiding his cock. His fingers stroke my pussy lightly over my panties, and his touch makes me want more. I tell him to put his fingers inside of me. I know that he wants to taste, but I like making him wait. Most men would beg a woman to stroke him, to suck him, to let him fuck her. But this man, he begs to be told to eat pussy. He will lick and suck until he has to come up gasping for air. I can tell how much he loves it because he is so fucking good at it, and it turns him on so much it makes his cock drip. When I need a break, I sit up, and he is on his knees near the edge of the bed, waiting to be told what to do next. My juices are on his face, and I kiss him, reaching down to run my thumb over the tip of his cock, knowing that it will be slick with precum. I slide my thumb between his lips, then cradle his face in my hands, kissing his mouth, his jaw, his face. "You are so fucking beautiful, you know that?" I murmur as I kiss his mouth. "What?" he asks softly. I turn his face so that I can speak into his ear. "I said, you are so fucking beautiful." "Thank you, Goddess." "Now lay down." "Yes, Goddess," he whispers, laying face down in the pillows. I use my lips and hands to explore his body, starting at his neck and shoulders, and then moving lower, sliding up the back of his slip to expose his panties, which he has pulled on over the garter belt. I know that he wants me to fuck him. I feel like I'm unwrapping a gift as I slide his panties down to his thighs, exposing the black lace of the garter belt, framing his sexy ass, and I can't help smiling. I know that many people would not understand why this sight is so erotic and beautiful to me, but those of you reading this will need no explanation. I run my hands over his ass cheeks and down his stocking-clad thighs and calves, touching and kissing. Nick has told me that he had never experienced domination quite like my style - that I make him feel subjugated and yet adored, when I'm the one who is supposed to be worshipped. But this is just how I am. This is how I express my ownership of him, my love, my appreciation for his willingness to give himself to me and please me. Yes, I can and will use his body to make myself feel physical pleasure. But there is a feeling of power in bringing a man to a state of arousal where every caress of my fingers or lips or tongue or teeth on his skin make him gasp with pleasure. It goes far beyond the arousal that one feels by simply turning on their partner. I lay my cheek against his skin, running my fingers across the light layer of soft hairs on his cheeks. "I love seeing your hairy ass in a garter belt and stockings, with your panties pulled down like a little whore." "Do you want me to shave my ass?" "No! No way, I don't want you to look like a woman. I want a man dressed in lingerie. And men have hairy asses." I straddle his hips and lean forward to kiss his neck and shoulders as I tease him in that quiet, calm tone of voice that I use when I'm talking dirty. "You are so sexy, face down, with that collar, and your panties pulled down, and your ripped stockings." I start moving my hips as he moves his ass beneath me, letting me know that his ass is mine, that he wants to be used. "You want me to fuck you, don't you Nick?" "Yes, Goddess," he murmurs into the pillows. "You want to be my little bitch, don't you? You want to be fucked." "Yes," he breathes. I go to my bag for my small dildo - it's slender, and about 6 inches long - and I tell him to get up so that I can sit at the head of the bed and position him over my lap. He is on elbows and knees, face down in the pillows once more, and his caged cock is between my thighs, his ass on beautiful display, framed by black lace and garter straps. I drizzle lube onto his skin, letting it run down the crack of his ass, and use my finger to rub it over his asshole, then slide my finger inside of him. I move in and out, then slide in as deep as I can go, running my free hand over his back, asking him if he likes it, if it feels good. I want to fuck him, I want to use my strap-on, but for me, the preparation is a huge part of what turns me on about assplay. I have a fetish for male ass, I enjoy taking my time, but I also want the experience to be pleasurable for him. I don't just want him to LET me fuck him, I want him to WANT me to fuck him. And so, I take my time to lube him up and stretch him. Too much lube is just enough, when it comes to anal. I pour some lube onto the dildo, and it drips down onto him, and onto my thigh. I grab his left ass cheek with my left hand so that I can have a look at his asshole as I position the toy and start to press inside of him. I move the dildo in and out, slowly moving a little deeper each time, asking him if he likes it, enjoying the groans and the way that he's moving his ass back, wanting more. Hearing his deep, sexy voice as I work the toy inside of his ass, telling me to fuck him, telling me to go deeper, is such a turn on. The entire dildo is inside of him, my fingers are slick with the lube, and I pull the dildo out, then slide it back in, fucking him slowly, and he tells me that he feels like he's going to cum. He had told me in the past that he had never had an orgasm while locked in chastity. I don't want him to cum yet, so I stop moving the dildo and leave it buried in his ass. I can't help teasing a little, pressing on the end, and caressing his skin, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of this man, bent over my lap, dressed in lingerie, and on the verge of having an orgasm without having his cock touched. And then, it happens. "I'm going to cum," he groans, and I watch in disbelief as an orgasm overwhelms him, and I am fucking loving it. I have made a man cum before with my fingers inside of his asshole, without touching his dick, and it was an extremely gratifying experience. Nick had clenched the toy, wanting to keep it inside of himself, and after how close he had come to orgasm while I was fucking him with it, it was just enough to put him over the edge. He sits up, and I look down because I want to see his load on the blanket. I reach down and feel the cum on my left inner thigh, on my stockings, and look up at him, smiling. "I've got cum on my left leg and lube on my right." He laughs, and is embarrassed that he came so quickly, but he hadn't masturbated all week... Though I like to think that even if he had, perhaps he still would have cum like that, like a sissy bitch, bent over my lap with a dick up his ass, locked in chastity... Because I'm good at what I do. *** As always, would love your feedback. Please take a moment to rate my story if you loved it! I've never posted a true story before... hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed living it ;) My Friday Night: Disconnected Although it has been two years since I posted a short story, I never stopped writing. In 2012, our relationship was at its start, and I began feeling things that I was not ready to share with him yet. Those feelings were coming through in my writing, so I kept my stories to myself for a long time. I actually wrote a book, and was also busy with editing Nicholas's first, then second, books. Every time that I got an email from a Literotica reader, I felt nostalgic. Literotica is like coming home. There will always be a soft spot in my heart for the community that helped me to embrace a side of myself that I suppressed for so long. I have a new (recent) story in the works, but first, I wanted to share the last two stories that I wrote for Literotica, which I never posted. This is the first - a story from the fall of 2012, after Hurricane Sandy. I was one of the lucky ones. Other people were much worse off in the aftermath of the storm. For me, fortunately, the situation just turned into a sexual tease. Because these stories are factual, it might be a good idea to read the preceding Friday/Saturday night stories in order to get to know us a little better, and understand my style. In order, they are: My Friday Night; My Saturday Night; My Saturday Night: Edging; My Saturday Night: Making Him Beg; My Friday Night: Switch. I hope that you enjoy our story. Leave feedback or send me an email to let me know how you feel. Thank you :) *** My niece and daughter were standing on the couch, looking out the window as the wind whipped around outside, blowing through the trees. Last fall, we had a bad hurricane, and everyone was on edge as Sandy approached. "Are you sure you're safe?" Nick asked, over the phone. "Yes, I'm sure!" I told him for what felt like the tenth time. "I want to keep seeing you, and have a relationship, and have kinky sex with you. You're important to me." I smiled. "You're important to me, too." "I was trying to call you before but it wouldn't connect. I kept trying, and I kept thinking, 'She probably doesn't even care.'" "Of course I care!" "I know you care. I know that you love me." I never knew what to say when he said stuff like that. It wasn't time for that word, but it was like he was trying to tease it out of me. Our phone conversation got cut off shortly after, because the winds from the impending storm were already disrupting the cell towers. I thought to myself, Even if we lose power, at least I can charge my laptop in my car, so that I can still write. We lost power that night, but surprisingly, our power was back on in the morning. Cell phones were not working, though. Here and there, phone calls and texts were going through, but not well. I felt so isolated, and was thankful that I lived with my sister. For the first time in months, I couldn't speak with Nick before bed, and I had a hard time falling asleep. While I struggled with insomnia, I took out my laptop and wrote about him. Halloween was cancelled. The world was on pause. Half the state was without power. Areas that did not flood, had devastating wind damage. People couldn't get in touch with their loved ones. Every time Nick was able to get through to me, there was usually only enough time for me to answer when he would ask, "Are you sure you're safe?" In one such conversation, I had just finished telling him how frustrated I was that we couldn't talk to each other. "You miss me? You can tell me you miss me," he teased. "Of course I miss you! It's making me crazy not being able to talk to you. At least I've gotten a lot of writing done." "I finished reading your last story. I loved it." And then, we were disconnected. When I realized he was gone, I growled, and yelled, "Fuck you!" at the phone before I dropped it onto the table in disgust. I just kept telling myself, Be thankful that you're safe, and that everyone you know is safe. Be thankful that this is your biggest problem right now. Still, I was insanely frustrated. Being out in the chaotic aftermath of the storm felt surreal. When I was trying to drive to the store, I had the eerie feeling that zombies would be clawing at my car at any moment. I wished that I had stocked up on diapers and cat food before the apocalypse. The streets were packed with cars because of the traffic due to the hours-long lines at gas stations that still had power and fuel. Nick had warned me about how bad the roads were, because he and his father needed to find gas to keep the generator going. Still, I wasn't expecting it to be like that. On the highway, it was hard to tell if you were sitting in traffic, or if you had accidentally ended up in a mile-long line waiting to get to the gas pumps. That evening, my daughter was in bed, and I was in the middle of writing about Nick when my phone dinged. It hadn't rung, but he had managed to leave me a voicemail, and I felt this absurd, dumb rush of excitement as I entered my password to retrieve the message. "Oh, I'll leave a message. I'll leave a message for your clit. I want to fuck you. I do. I want to, I can't wait. I can't wait to see you again. I can't wait to just... grab the back of your head, and kiss you, kiss your neck, and stick my cock inside you and fuck you. And you know you love it. You know you love it. I love it. I want to fuck you. I want you to drive me crazy." The message was cut off at that point, but boy, was it enough for me. I tried to return to my story, but it was so hard to concentrate. Not being able to speak with him was really starting to fuck with my head. Everyone was conserving gasoline and avoiding unnecessary travel because of the sad state of the roads. It would have really been silly to try to see each other, and I had to admire Sandy, in a fucked up way. What an effective tease! I was so emotionally and sexually frustrated; finally, I understood what I did to Nicholas on a regular basis. Why does he fucking love this? I thought. I loved to tease him, but when I wanted something, I didn't want to wait. After staring at my laptop for countless unproductive minutes, I gave up. All that I could think about was being with him. All that I wanted was to carry on a conversation! I wanted to make him laugh; I wanted to turn him on. I needed to feel that connection. I picked up the phone so that I could leave him a voicemail. "Since you left a message for my clit, I'm going to leave a message for your cock. I can't wait to get my rope wrapped around your wrists and tie your sissy ass up. I want to tease you until you're begging me to let you cum. Then, I could let you fuck me... Or I could let you cum in my mouth. I could make you kneel on the floor in front of me and watch you jerk off. Or I could have you lie face down on the bed like last time, and fuck you in the ass like a whore until you cum in your panties. What do you think?" Trying to write at that point was a joke. I wondered if and when he would get my message. I wanted to know his reaction, and I was hoping that he would be able to leave me another voicemail. My mind was flashing with memories of him fucking me. All that I wanted was to talk to him and masturbate together. I loved having his voice in my ear as I came. I wanted to make him cum, too. I replayed the message that he left for me. His voice always went right through me. When he said he was leaving a message for my clit, he was not being facetious. He knew what he was doing. I couldn't stand it anymore; I needed to touch myself. I closed my eyes and listened to the rich tones of his enticing words. I couldn't help whimpering in frustration because I wanted to feel him inside of me. As I rubbed the tip of a dildo across my clit, I thought about when I had him tied up, his cock caged in the metal rings of the gates of hell, and I had teased the swollen tip of his cock by rubbing it against my wet pussy. As I slid the head of the dildo inside of myself, I remembered teasing him that way. He tried to fuck me as I straddled him, and just the tip of his hard cock was able to penetrate me. In my mind, I made him wait while I slowly got my key and removed his lock. When I told him that he could fuck me, he rolled me onto my back and moved between my thighs. As I ached to feel that moment when his cock first pushed inside of me, I plunged the dildo into my pussy and sighed. I thought of his body above mine, his hair hanging in his face, his heavy breathing. I wanted to wrap my fingers around his biceps and use my legs to pull his hips close. Frantically, I grabbed my bullet vibrator from my bedside table and pressed it against my clit. I imagined that I could hear him grunt and feel his body shudder as he came inside of me, and that thought pushed me over the edge. Even as I was cumming, I felt disappointment. Sure, I had an orgasm, but it just couldn't compare to the way he made me cum. I wanted him. I missed him even more. The next morning, he texted me. "I LOVED your message." I replied, "Well, my clit loved your message! She listened to it a few times because it was so sexy." His response made me burst into laughter. "I was walking the dog and listening to your voicemail and I got a gigantic, throbbing erection. Cars were passing me because of the detour. It was another one of those 'that guy sure loves walking his dog' moments." I tried calling him, and of course, it wouldn't go through. It was strange how phone calls weren't working, yet I could use my Facebook app and receive emails. That day, I got an email from the Hooters in East Brunswick: "We're open! The power is back on!" Too bad no one had the gasoline to get there. That afternoon, we spoke on the phone long enough that we got through the "I'm okay, are you okay" stuff and I began to tell him about a voicemail I tried to leave for him that he never received. When we got cut off, I texted him, "No matter if we talk thirty seconds or five minutes, the second that one of us brings up sex, we get disconnected. Think God is trying to tell us something?" His response: "If there is a God, she wants us to fuck." As I laughed, I thought that we were probably going to hell. When Friday rolled around, the universe seemed to be conspiring against me. My day started off with some issues with my daughter's father, then I found out that I needed to work the next day, which meant that I had to sit in an insanely long line to put gas in my car. While I waited, I tried to lift my spirits by looking at porn. About an hour into my wait, I sent Nick a link to a webpage on cock-and-ball rope bondage. He told me that he would definitely not be able to see me that night. Originally, he was supposed to be my date to my cousin's wedding that evening. Pre-Sandy, I was excited for the reception because I planned to tease Nick mercilessly. Both of us would have worn sexy panties and thigh-highs beneath our clothing. Due to the storm, the reception was delayed, but they were still going to exchange their vows and have a small dinner afterwards in the church basement. An impromptu alcohol-free family dinner in a church basement was not going to be that much fun, so I told him to forget it, that I'd take him to the "real" party in December. I was still hoping to see him afterwards, but he had to work on Saturday as well. "I'm sorry. You know I want to see you, but I can't stay up late if I have to go to work tomorrow. This could be fun. Let's up the ante," he said, wanting to play our teasing game. "No, I'm already pissed off." He continued. "We cannot cum until we see each other." "My bad mood is getting worse. Waiting to cum won't even be that hard, because I can't even manage to have a decent orgasm by myself, without you." A half hour later, I apologized to him for being so bitter and humorless. After my ex picked up my daughter for the weekend, I opened an email from a man who I used to communicate with frequently. Steve and I used to email and chat on messenger or on the phone daily, until I began exploring sexually in real life. Due to my recent love affair with rope bondage and orgasm control, he very kindly attached a bunch of relevant photographs to his email. He knew my taste in porn, and I was drooling over most of the attachments. The pictures put me in the right frame of mind to tease Nick the way that he loved. I began texting my favorite ones to Nick - dommes in hot lingerie owning their nude, bound, and subservient men. Ropes and strap-ons and collars, oh my! After seeing the pictures, Nick wrote, "I want you to take me." "You love being my sissy boy, don't you?" I teased. "Can I wear panties? Please?" he asked. "What if I told you that you can't wear anything until I can put it on you myself?" "Ugh." I laughed out loud, then wrote, "Will you beg me? Will you promise to send me pictures that I can share if I want to? Will you promise to let me take pictures of you, too?" "Please?" "That isn't good enough." "Please, Goddess." "You have to give me more than that. Don't be such a pussy." "May I put on panties and think of you as I wear them? And yearn for you." "No. More." I was usually a pretty laid back domme, if there ever was such a thing. I enjoyed taking charge, talking dirty, and using women's clothing to tease, but I was never cruel. Usually, I loved giving him exactly what he wanted, but that day, I was ridiculously frustrated. It was very easy - and therapeutic - to channel that anger into some fun, kinky behavior. For the first time ever, I wanted to make him lock his cock up until I saw him again. He told me on several occasions that while he might have said otherwise in the heat of the moment, the thought of being locked up for more than a day was terrifying to him. "Right now, if you had one of those cages that was meant to be worn for extended periods of time, I would make you lock yourself up until next weekend." He continued to beg to wear his panties. "No. You aren't telling me what I want to hear." "Can I just wear it because it feels good on my cock? I won't touch myself." Chastity, for me, is not about distrust. I don't want him locked up because I think he can't be trusted. I use chastity to remind him of my ownership of him. And that night, I wanted him to be a little uncomfortable because I was feeling wicked. That was something new for me. "I would put you in my lap and paddle your ass so fucking hard right now. And then I'd tie your hands and feet together behind your back and let you lay there, and I would completely ignore you. Maybe I'd use a vibrator on myself and let you lick the toy, but not me," I wrote. "Please let me wear panties. I will not touch myself unless you tell me to." I ignored his pleas. "When the internet is working normally again, you're going to put on stockings, heels, panties, and that big puffy petticoat, and put a picture on Fetlife of yourself, from the waist down. The caption will be: If I didn't post this picture, she wouldn't have let me wear panties all week while I wait to see her again." At that point, I was getting ready to go to the wedding. I took pictures of myself in my pink and black retro-style waist cincher, garters, and thigh-highs, and sent them to his phone. The stockings were my favorite: black fishnets with a black ruffle at the top and a little white bow on the front of each thigh. As I was sitting in the church pew, trying to listen to the story about Jesus turning water into wine, my mind wandered. I thought, I am in a house of worship, surrounded by family, listening to a sermon, thinking about tying Nick to the bed and teasing him for hours. I'm a freak. "I'll do it," he texted me later. "I will take that picture and put it on Fetlife." "Put on a pair of panties and text me a picture." "We cannot cum until we see each other," he said. "Don't you tell me what I can and cannot do. If I don't cum until I see you, it will be because I don't want to. It's disappointing. You aren't going to cum until I see you, because I said so." "Sorry, Goddess. Yes, Goddess. And I am wearing them," he said, referring to the panties. "You should go outside, get your pretty things from the car, and take that picture now. Until you post it, with the caption I wrote, I don't want to see any activity on Fetlife." "Yes, Goddess." That evening, before I went downstairs to bed, I started texting him about how I wished that he was tied up in my basement bedroom. With every sentence I sent to him, I became more and more aroused. He should have been there with me. He could have been hogtied on my bed, gagged and wearing a French maid outfit. Instead, he was at home, already asleep, and I felt disheartened that I couldn't get his immediate reaction to my fantasy. Saturday was just as disappointing as Friday had been. Because so many New Jersey residents were displaced by the storm, every hotel with power was booked solid. We could not have gotten a room if we tried. I felt like a jerk for feeling so disappointed, when so many people lost so much more than a night with Nicholas. For this Jersey girl, it was tragic, though. Even if we could have found a room, Nick was exhausted. After work, he had to help some relatives with post-Sandy clean-up. For the first time in months, I spent my Saturday night home alone. At least I had a home, though. On the upside, the phones were finally working properly again, and we were actually able to talk before he went to bed. "I loved your pictures, especially the second one," I said, referring to his Fetlife posts. "I love that you posted it so everyone could see." "Could see that you own me," he added. "You're so good at taking pictures. Seriously, you have a talent. Those pictures were so much better than anything I imagined when I told you what I wanted you to wear. You are so sexy." I could hear the smile in his words. "That is so sweet of you to say." "Well, I'll stroke your ego since I can't stroke your cock. I'm going to let you cum tonight." He made that small, whimpering sound that I loved. Then, he asked, "Can I put on my slip?" "Yes, put on your slip," I sighed. "I already told you that before." After a brief silence, he said, "I have it on." I heard the camera shutter sound effect of his cell phone. "I'm sending you a picture." He hung up so that the picture could come through to my phone, then he called me back a couple of minutes later. "So, you're in a slip and panties." "Yeah. I took the stockings off. Should I put them back on?" he asked. Without hesitation, I said, "Yes, put them back on." There was another pause, and then he said, "I'm taking a picture." "Good. I'll look at it later. I wish you hadn't fallen asleep so early last night. I wanted you to leave me a voicemail telling me what you wanted me to do to you." I heard that small sound that he made in his throat when I was turning him on, and he wanted to touch himself. I smiled as I continued to speak into his ear, through the phone. "Did you get my text messages about leaving you tied up downstairs?" He didn't say anything, so I repeated, "Did you? I can't hear you." "Yes. Yes, I did." "Did you like the thought of me leaving you face down, ankles and wrists tied up behind you, while you begged me to come downstairs and tease you?" When I paused, I was rewarded with that pleading, tortured vocalization again. "Every time I hear you make that little whimpering noise, it sends this jolt to my pussy. What are you doing?" "Standing in my room." "Lie down. Are you lying down on your bed?" "Yes." "I want you to bend your knees so you can look at your stockings. Touch them, touch your thighs and think of when I touch your legs. Is your cock hard?" "Yes. Can I touch it?" he asked quietly. "Yes, pull your cock out of your panties." Quickly, I changed my mind, as I thought of what I would do if I was in his bedroom. "No wait, don't! Pull them back up. Touch your cock through your panties. Rub your thumb over the head of your cock until you start leaking and make a wet spot. Feels so good, doesn't it. Did you make a wet spot?" My Friday Night: Disconnected "Yes," he murmured. "I love the way you leak when I play with you. Take your cock out of your panties. Stroke it nice and slow... But don't cum yet. Don't you dare cum! Let go of your cock. Right now." I heard a soft "unh" sound on the other end of the line, and imagined his frustration at letting go. "Tell me what you want." There was silence on the other end of the line. I imagined that I could see him, lying on his bed on his back in his lingerie, his hand poised, hovering, waiting to touch himself. In my mind's eye, I could see his anguish as he forced himself to hold back: knitted brow, closed eyes, open mouth, and chest rising and falling with rapid breath. I could see his cock twitching with the need for release. "Tell me," I repeated myself loudly and slowly, "what you want." "I want you to fuck my ass." His voice was so low and breathy that I could barely make out the words. I loved having control over him. Of course, there was truly nothing stopping him from masturbating. Obviously, I couldn't see him; I couldn't know for sure that he wasn't pretending to do as he was told. But that was the beauty of the game that we liked to play. He got off on the tease. What would have been the point of it all, if he didn't obey? He wanted me to force him. He wanted me to push him. He wanted me to deny him. And so, I knew that he was lying there, hanging on my every word, perhaps even trembling with the effort of abstaining. He was in subspace. He was consumed by his need to cum, and his need to please me was keeping him from having that release. "Yeah, I know you love it when I fuck your ass," I purred into the phone. "You loved when I had you lie face down, pushed my strap-on inside of you and fucked you." I listened to him breathing as I spoke. "I love when you push back because you want it all. I love the surprise and the helplessness in your voice when you say, 'I'm going to cum!' And then you do, all over your panties." When I heard that sexy little whimper of his, my body responded. I wanted more. I wanted to hear him cum. "You love when I touch your stomach, feeling that soft, silky slip on your skin, don't you? Take the slip and lay it over your cock. Wrap your fingers around your cock and stroke it. Rub it over the tip. Now take the slip off and jerk off, faster and harder. I want you to cum for me tonight. I want to hear you cum." I could hear him; I knew that he was doing exactly as I told him, because he wanted to cum so badly. I thought about one of his favorite scenes, and began a story. "I'm going to whore you out to my friends. I'm going to invite a couple of women over and we're going to use you. I own you. Isn't that what you want?" He whimpered. When I heard him on the other end of the line, making soft sounds, I loved how he seemed barely able to talk to me unless I forcibly engaged him. "Is that what you want?" I repeated. "Yes." I grinned. "Of course you do. You're going to be on your knees with your hands bound behind your back, and we're going to take turns grabbing your head and fucking your face. You're going to lick our pussies until we cum, and then we will give you a chance. You'll be kneeling there with our cum all over your face, and I'll untie your hands and unlock your cock. Jerk off for us, Nicholas." When I heard him moan on the other end of the line, I felt a thrill between my legs. His low moans became more urgent, spurring me on. "But you only have two minutes. I'm only giving you two minutes to make yourself cum, so you better be fast. If you don't cum within two minutes, I'm locking you back up. You won't be allowed to cum. You need to cum, Nick, I know you want to cum, don't you? Hurry up or I'm going to lock you back up!" My pussy tingled as I listened to him gasp and groan. I imagined the cum shooting onto his slip and running down his hand. In the silence after his orgasm, while he caught his breath, I slipped a hand down my panties. I was so wet. "Feel better?" I asked. "God, yes. That was great. I have missed talking to you," he said. "I'm touching myself. I need you to make me cum." "Do you want me to be dominant or submissive?" "I don't fucking care. Say anything. Just make me cum," I breathed. The things that he says are not as important as the fact that he is saying them. I love hearing his voice. I love knowing that he is there, and that he is listening. I had an orgasm while he spoke of things he would do to me, painting a scene where he was the one in control. "I love that you're a switch," he said. "I love how much you enjoy dominating me and owning me, but that you also want to be taken. And part of me wants to take." My Friday Night: Switch Driving home on Sunday night, my phone rang when I was stopped at the light waiting to turn onto my street. Seeing Nick's name, I put him on speaker phone. Before I could say anything, he very loudly declared, "I want to lick your pussy." Hearing that deep, sexy voice usually makes me melt, but I had to giggle. Note to self: never answer his call on speakerphone unless in private. For those of you who have not read my other recent stories (which are actually, in reality, a journal), I would like to ask you to be open-minded. I have had difficulty finding the right home for my stories because they include so many different things. The stories primarily focus on femdom, but this is a very broad theme. For us, play involves a lot of fantasizing, teasing, dirty talk, lingerie, rope bondage, male chastity, forced fem, tons of oral, sometimes strap-on fucking, spanking, the list goes on. Cross-dressing is a huge part of our relationship, but this is a fetish that a lot of men and women find very difficult to understand, and I would hate for someone not to read my story because they make a snap judgement. Cross-dressing isn't always about a man wanting to be - or a woman wanting to make a man into - a woman. For us, it has never been about that. Of course, role reversal is a large part of the turn-on. Humiliation does play a role, but at the same time, it isn't about degrading him. We do it because it we both like it. It is also a tactile fetish. When my hand touches his slip, pulling the silky material back and forth against his skin, the simple fact is that it feels really nice beneath my fingertips, and I know he enjoys the way it feels on his stomach. I love the smooth, sexy feeling when my stockinged foot skims up and down his stockinged calf. The sensations are pleasurable and erotic, for both of us. I also love the contradiction of the feminine beauty of lingerie covering manly, hairy body parts, a constant reminder of the control and power that I have over him. A reminder of his vulnerability. And that's why I like to make him wear sexy things under his male clothes when he goes to work sometimes. The reason that I decided to share our experiences in this way is because I love erotica, and fantasy is important, but I think that it is even more important for everyone to try to make their fantasies a part of their real, everyday lives. So, I hope that my story makes you laugh, I hope that it turns you on, and I hope that it will inspire you to try new things and embrace the beauty of complete honesty in your relationships. I think it is a tragedy when a man or woman is not able to share every part of themselves with their partner. On Tuesday, I texted him that I decided he should wear panties, his garter belt, and stockings to work the next day. When we were on the phone that night, he told me a little story about what happened when he came home from work. "I park in the driveway, and see my parents at the top of the driveway talking to one of the neighbors. I start digging through the laundry basket in the back seat. The french maid outfit gets tossed to the side. A petticoat goes flying." I giggled as I conjured a mental image of him, a hot mess trying to rustle up his sissy clothes before his parents came wandering down the driveway. He continued. "I got the panties, the stockings, a slip, but I can't find the garter belt. Because they're all standing up there, like, looking at me, I shove everything into my pants and walk up -" "How did you hide all those things in your fucking pants?" "I held the stuff I was carrying in front of me. So I have to stop and say hi, and then I feel something slipping down the leg of my pants. It's the pair of panties. I feel them on my knee. I start walking up to the door and I feel them fall down to my ankle, so I do one of those, 'Hey, what's going on over there?' There was some construction nearby, so they all turn and," he makes a whooshing sound, "I snatch up the panties and put them in my pocket." I stopped laughing long enough to ask, "So, did you find the garter belt?" "It was in the house the whole time." "Good, because I want you to wear the garter belt, and panties, and stockings tomorrow. Sleep in a slip and panties tonight." A little while later, I heard the shutter sound that his iphone makes when he takes pictures. "Are you taking pictures for me?" I asked, excited. "Yes." "Send them to me. We have to hang up so they'll come through. Call me back in 5 minutes." I eagerly waited, grinning when the pictures of him wearing the slip and panties came through to my phone. "Let me see your cock. Pull your panties down a little," I coaxed. He texted me a couple of pictures of his cock. "Oh, he looks like he misses me. Make him harder," I wrote. I loved knowing that he was touching himself and taking pictures for me. He called me back. "I love when you make me do this. I'm not going to cum until I see you this weekend. I want to be in a state of sexual frenzy." "You're going to sleep in your slip and panties tonight, and think about my pussy. Are you still stroking your cock?" "No. Can I touch?" he asked quietly. "Yes, I want you to." As I spoke, I could hear in the way that he was breathing, and soft sounds that he was making, that he was touching himself, and I was getting turned on. "Maybe you'll dream about being tied up. Dream about me teasing your cock. Or fucking your ass. And then tomorrow, after you shower, you're going to put on your panties - no, garter belt first. Then panties, then stockings. You have such nice legs. And then you're going to put on your pants and shirt and go to work, and no one will know what a freak you are. But I'll know, because I'm a freak, too." He was quiet for a moment. "We are so right for each other." The next night, he surprised me by asking what I would think if he posted on Fetlife a couple of the pictures he had texted me that morning from the office. I bet I had a cheshire grin when I read that message. Before I met him, I was really getting into sharing pictures of myself on the Literotica ampic forum, and I had been dying to take pictures of him and share them as well (anonymous, faceless shots of course!). I had taken a few, but had kept them to myself. It gave me such a thrill to see those pictures of him on his profile page, with the caption: She made me wear this under my work clothes. There was a comment from another Fetlifer, we'll call him B: Nice, but you could use a shave. Nick: That's not what she wants... B: It does feel so much nicer but she's the boss. Nick: She is... The woman definitely is... And I felt compelled to put in my 2 cents: Men should be furry. Even when they're little sissy bitches. When I came home Friday afternoon, I snatched up the package on the kitchen counter and ran downstairs to my room to rip it open like a kid on Christmas morning. "Oh, hot..." I murmured, holding up the pink and black retro-style waist cincher. I stripped down and tried it on, scurrying back to the bathroom to look in the mirror. "He is going to love these straps," I said to myself, touching the wide garter strap resting against my thigh. I couldn't wait for him to see it later that night, but even more than that, I couldn't wait to wear it, along with sexy thigh-highs, beneath my dress to my cousin's wedding, and tease the ever-living shit out of Nick the entire night. Speaking of my cousin... Nick asked me if I'd stop and get condoms, so on my way to the hotel, I run into the drug store. Usually, you find contraceptives back by the pharmacy counter, so I quickly walk to the back of the store and scan the little flags they have sticking up on the aisles, but I don't see what I'm looking for. I do an entire circuit around the store, up and down aisles, getting flustered. I'm about to go make the young guy at the counter blush by asking him where the hell the condoms are when my phone chimes. It's a text message from my cousin's fiancee. "Are you in CVS?" "Hah! Where are you? I'm trying to find the fucking condoms. Wtf." I wander toward the back of the store again and I hear a voice from behind the pharmacy counter. "Aisle 13!" I turn to the left and there it is, "Family Planning." Really? Isn't it more like, Family Un-planning? To be polite, I talk to my cousin's soon-to-be wife for a few minutes before heading on my way. Finally, I'm standing outside Room 202, knocking on the door. Room 117 was already taken... I smile when he opens the door, and kiss him when he leans toward me. A DVD is playing - it's a compilation of trailers for these kinky Asian pornos from the eighties with fucked up titles like "Assy Fingers" and "Rape Hotel." As I watch the clips and read the subtitles, I find it more amusing than erotic, but that's what makes it fun. I undress, and I can hear him messing around with something. When he announces, "I'm all yours," I realize he was locking himself up in the gates of hell chastity device. There is a pile of clothing on the desk in the corner. Standing in front of the desk, I start going through the items he pulled out. There are a couple of french maid outfits, slips, some panties. Holding up one of the dresses, I ask, "Does this fit you?" "Are you calling me fat?" he jokes. "It just doesn't look very big." "Yeah, it's skimpy." I lift up a gauzy white petticoat. "How about this?" "Yeah." I know he wants to be "forced" to wear it all, and feel totally humiliated. I toss a slip, a dress, the petticoat, his garter belt, stockings, and a pair of panties onto the bed. "Get dressed. Where are your shoes?" "I lost one. We must have left it in the other room last week." "That sucks. We'll have to buy another pair." Laying across the bed, I half-watch the movie, half-watch him get changed. I sit up when he stands in front of me, so that I can zip the back of the dress. He lays down in front of me so we're in a spooning position. I smile, looking at his black and white french maid costume, and seeing the change in him. When he first puts on lingerie, or a dress, he becomes very quietly submissive. He avoids eye contact, speaks very low (unless I tell him to speak up), and for the most part will lay there and wait for me to tell him or show him what I want him to do. But if you have read my other stories (and I hope that you will, if you have not), you know that this can - and does - change. I pull the collar around his neck and buckle it. Running my hand down his side, I kiss the back of his neck and his shoulder. I inhale the scent of his shampoo, and the smell of his skin. "You love wearing this for me, don't you," I murmur into his ear. "The lingerie, the dress. It feels so nice on your skin." Reaching down further, I touch his nylon clad thighs, then move my hand up beneath the dress, pulling it up so that I can see the petticoat. I peel back the layers until I am caressing his ass through the little black panties that he is wearing. Moving my hand to the front of his body, I wrap my fingers around the bulge of his caged cock, enjoying his sharp intake of breath. My fingers are sticky from touching the fabric over the tip of his cock. "I love how you leak almost constantly when I'm playing with you." I slide my hand beneath the waistband, skin touching warm skin, giving his cheek a little squeeze, running a finger teasingly up the crack of his ass. I kiss the back of his neck, below his collar, and speak low into his ear. "Know why I put you in a dress? Because I'm going to fuck you." He makes a soft sound in the back of his throat. I ask, "Do you want me to fuck you?" "Yes," he whispers. "Tell me what you want," I say, raising my voice from the soft, sultry tone that I had been using. "I want you to fuck me." "I know. You're my slut." I pull on his shoulder, urging him to roll flat on his back. His eyes are closed. I could say that I wonder what he is thinking, but I know what he is thinking. He hasn't had an orgasm in a week. He is collared, his cock is under lock and key, and he is laying on a bed in a hotel room wearing women's lingerie. Not only lingerie, but a fucking french maid outfit, waiting for a woman to fuck him in the ass with a strap-on cock. Waiting to be owned. He is thinking that he is so lucky to have a woman like me. He is thinking that he can't wait for me to use him. He is thinking about licking my pussy. He is thinking about having his ass fucked. He is thinking about how badly he wants to cum. I lay my hand on the side of his face, turning him toward me so that I can kiss him, soft and slow. I move my hand up and down his stomach, knowing that he loves feeling the soft feminine clothing sliding across his skin. I love to feel that, too. Lifting my head, I look down as I pull his panties off of his cock. The tip is bulging, wet with precum, the metal rings are tight around his shaft. I lay the white, gauzy material of the petticoat over his cock, wrap my fingers around the swollen head, and stroke him, coaxing more sticky fluid from his body. Since he is also wearing the slip, I do the same with that, stroking him with the silky material. "I'm going to put you over my lap and lube you up, but you need to calm down a little first so that you don't cum too fast." I let go of his cock, pull his panties back over it, and sit up. "You want to lick my pussy, but I'm going to fuck you first." He starts to get on his hands and knees, but I tell him that I'm going to put on my strap-on first. He curls up on his side. I reach out and touch his legs for a moment before I go to get ready. After I have the dildo strapped on, I turn it on to make sure the batteries are working, and the base vibrates against my clit. As soon as I sit down by the headboard, he kneels over my lap. I pull up his dress and push his panties down to his thighs. "So sexy," I say as my fingers play across his black lace garter belt and straps. "I love having you like this, bent over my lap." Looking for the bottle of Astroglide, I smile upon seeing the leather paddle lying on the bedside table. "You want to be spanked, don't you?" "That's up to you, Goddess," he replies quietly. I pick up the paddle. "Well, I'm pretty sure you took this out because you want me to spank you." I lean forward, toward his face. "Tell me that's not true." I see his lips turn up in a slight smile as he stares down at the mattress. Seems like it might be true. My sissy wants a spanking. "Maybe you need to be punished for making me wait all week to cum." I rub the leather paddle over his ass cheeks teasingly as I talk to him. "Last night after I got off the phone with you, I took a shower. It was so nice and warm and relaxing, and all I wanted to do was climb in bed and think of you and have a nice orgasm before I went to sleep. But I couldn't. I did touch myself, but I didn't cum." I lift the paddle and it makes a nice slapping sound as it makes contact with his flesh. This is fun, I've never slapped anyone's ass with anything other than my hand before. "Tell me what you want." The only sound in the room is leather striking skin. "Tell me." His voice is a low murmur. "I want you to fuck my ass." "Say it louder." "I want you to fuck my ass." I toss the paddle aside, grab the lube, and drizzle some down his crack. I catch the drip with my finger and slide inside of him. I love that snug, hot feeling as I press my slippery finger inside of his asshole, in and out, adding more lubricant. He groans with pleasure, and I pull out. "Don't you dare cum yet." More lube, and this time I push two fingers inside of him, stretching him. "Please fuck me," he breathes. The other times I have used the strap-on, I had him kneel on the bed, and fucked him doggy-style. But this time, I tell him to lay flat, face down. I rub lube on the dildo jutting from my crotch, and then I reach forward to flip up the dress and the frilly white petticoat. The back of his panties are pulled down below his ass. Right now, his ass is mine. Straddling him, it takes me a minute to get the dildo lined up - I think it would be a lot easier if I could feel the tip of my cock... But then, I'm in, and as I push in all the way, he moans loudly. "Feels good, doesn't it?" I murmur, leaning over his back, my hands on either side of his body. "Don't you cum, I don't want you to cum yet." I glance down as he puts his right hand over mine, and then I look up, realizing that we can see our reflections in the mirror over the dresser. I reach down to move the switches on the remote control, and nothing happens. I guess the AAs in this thing are only good for one fuck. "Batteries are dead," I mutter. I move my hips and grind against him. Vibrations or not, the dildo feels good bumping my clit, and as I thrust into him, I warn him again, "Don't you fucking cum. God, I love fucking you." The silicone cock pushes deep inside of him, and I love the noises that he makes. In general, vocalizations turn me on in the bedroom. But there is something special about this. The noises that a man makes while he has his cock buried inside of a pussy, or a hot, wet mouth, or an asshole... well, these sounds are very, very different from the gasps, grunts, and groans that he will elicit when he is the one being penetrated - a fact that I find intensely arousing. Suddenly, he says, "I'm gonna cum!" In a state of shocked amazement, I leave the cock buried inside of him and look at his profile, his face pressing against the bed, and I listen to him grunt and moan. It is hard to describe this emotion: there is an almost smug sense of satisfaction that lies just below the surprise I have felt the few times that I have made a man have an orgasm without touching his cock. Especially since, in the beginning of our relationship, Nick told me that he couldn't cum with this chastity device on. "I'm sorry," he whispers, catching his breath. I pull out and climb off of him. "Don't be sorry," I assure him. "That was so fucking awesome. I can't believe you came." He rolls onto his back. "I came all over my panties." I laugh, pulling the front of his panties down over his cock, which is dripping with cum. "I think I need to cum at least twice a week. When I wait all week, it's too long." He gasps in surprise when I wrap my lips around his cock. He moans as I gently suck him clean. I give him a minute to clean up in the bathroom. While I wait, I unhook my garter straps from the waist cincher and step out of the harness. It wasn't sitting right over my garter straps so I needed to put them on over top of it. Then I wash the toy in the sink as he stands in the bathroom doorway. "Would you do my straps?" I ask, turning away from him. As I fasten the ones in the front, I feel his fingers working on the ones in the back. "You shouldn't ask me to do it. Just tell me to do it. You're my goddess." "Okay," I giggle. I turn to face him. "Let's take this ridiculous thing off now." I unzip his french maid outfit. He removes it and the petticoat. "Do you want to keep the slip on?" I ask teasingly. He changes the DVD and lays down on the bed in his slip, thigh high stockings, and his damp panties. I lay on my side next to him, touching him through his slip. He apologizes again. "I'm sorry I came so fast. I will make you cum tonight." "I know. I just can't believe you came like that." "I think it was partly because I could see you fucking me in the mirror." I smile. I had been wondering if he had noticed that, too. "I know I kept telling you not to cum, but I'm not angry that you did. I think it's so hot that you came from me fucking you. I love when I'm able to make a man cum without touching his cock. It's like a magic trick." My Friday Night: Switch He laughs and starts the movie. "Which one is this?" I ask. "Henry and June. The main characters are writers who have an affair. It's based on a true story, based on her journal. They're like us." After we watch for a little while, he gets his laptop. "Let me show you what I have written." I tell him to pause the movie, and he scrolls through the document, reading me bits and pieces. I have already heard most of the anecdotes, because he reads them to me over the phone. "I don't know how to end this," he says. "Just write, and you'll know. Don't think about it too much." He shuts down the laptop. "I'm so grateful to have someone open-minded and loving enough to support me in writing this." I don't know how to respond. I never know what to say when he says things like that. "What are you thinking about?" he asks. "Tell me." Sometimes it's like my throat closes up. I don't hold back when it comes to sex, but when it comes to that other stuff... I don't know. I turn back to the movie. "Nothing," I answer. This film is really well done - very sexy without using tons of gratuitous sex. The actress who plays Anais has these huge beautiful eyes, and that softy, sexy French accent... In one scene, she is in bed with her husband, lying beneath him on her back. He is kissing her, trying to make love to her, and she keeps asking him what he thinks of June, Henry's wife. Her naughty words are so erotic, and she is so obviously aroused by the things she is saying about the other woman. Her husband just tells her to stop. I roll onto my side, resting the side of my face against his arm as I listen to the movie. When he begins running his hand up and down my back, it makes me shiver. He turns onto his side, putting his arm around me. The metal hook clicks against the ring on his collar as I grip his leash tightly in my right hand. His fingers feel electric as they move over my lingerie and touch my skin. When he sits up, I let go of the leash and lay face down on the bed. Now, both hands caress my back, my ass, my nylon-covered thighs. He reaches between my legs and rubs my clit. My eyes closed, the side of my face pressing against the blankets, I listen to him moving around the room. I know that he has a vibrator when I hear the snap of him popping the cap on the bottle of Astroglide. I feel the mattress move when he gets back on the bed, toy buzzing in his hand, and he slides it inside of my pussy. An involuntary "uhnn" escapes my mouth when I feel the silicone protrusion vibrating against my clit. I can feel his body over me. His hands are in my hair, his lips on my neck and my back. I lift my head and I feel his hand on my throat. Though I am a switch, he and I have rarely talked about my submissive side. I know I have never told Nick how much I like this. Exactly this. Being face down, having my neck kissed and sucked, and feeling a man's hands in my hair and on my throat. I don't mean asphyxiation - just a hand on my neck. For a moment, I think of the first time that I told Nick to get on all fours, bent over my lap. I slid a finger inside of his ass and made him jerk off because I wanted to feel his asshole clench around my finger as he came. I remember afterwards that he told me how that had always been a fantasy of his, to be kneeling over a woman's lap and made to cum, and he had never told anyone about it. "Don't stop," I manage to say as I gasp in ecstasy. He is sucking so hard on the back of my neck that I know he will leave marks, but it feels too good to tell him to stop. Every so often I hear him make this soft sound of pleasure, which adds to my arousal. The sounds he makes during sex drive me crazy. I can feel my body's arousal ramping up, and I know that I am going to cum so fucking hard. I barely have the ability to register my amazement at the fact that he has taken me this way. In past relationships, I usually found myself needing to tell my lover exactly exactly what I needed. Whether it was experience or intuition or who knows what, Nick was pushing every button right. "Oh God, yes," I breathe, feeling his fingers tangling in my hair as he sucks on the left side of the back of my neck. The vibrator is inside of me and on my clit, waves of pleasure radiating from my groin. The pressure builds with every tug at my scalp, every caress of his lips on my skin. His hand moves around my neck and when I feel his fingers on my throat, I cry out with the force of an overwhelming orgasm. My fingers dig into the mattress as my body writhes beneath his. He continues to lick and suck on my neck, and I just keep cumming, whimpering, moaning, gasping for breath. As I float back to earth, he sits up and pulls the vibrator out of my pussy. I can't move. I just lay there, panting. I can hear the joke in his voice when he asks, "Did you cum?" Christ, anyone who heard me would know that I did. I laugh weakly. He moves to the foot of the bed. I know what he wants, so I turn onto my back, spreading my stocking-clad thighs. He gets between my legs and I moan softly when I feel his tongue flickering over my clit. He slides his fingers inside of me and I grab his hair. One of my hands drops to my hip and he grabs my fingers when they brush against his free hand. My ears are filled with the sound of him sucking on my clit and the sighing sounds coming from my own throat. He is like a man at water's edge after days of dehydration: drinking long and hard, wanting more and more, until he is breathless and forced to stop for air. When finally he sits up, I tug on his leash. "Get up here." Quickly, he brings his mouth to mine and as we kiss, I reach down toward his cock, which is hard and leaking again. "You want to cum again, don't you?" I ask. "Yes," he murmurs. "You deserve another orgasm, you were so good to me tonight." I pat his arm, and he rolls off of me so that I can get up to get my keys. I keep the key to his cock on my key ring, so that I notice it throughout the day and it makes me smile. I pull down his panties, turn the key in the lock, and remove the chastity device. He is almost fully hard as I pull the metal rings off of his cock, and quickly becomes even longer and stiffer in my hand. Slowly, I lick the underside of his cock, up to the tip, then take him inside of my mouth as far as I can. I move up and down, bobbing faster when he starts moving beneath me. I suck him until my jaw is too sore to continue, then I stroke his cock, wet with my saliva. I stop. "How do you want to cum?" "I just want to cum." "But how do you want to cum? You could cum in my mouth. You could fuck me. I could make you jerk off." "It's up to you, Goddess." "Do you want to get in my lap again so I can spank you?" I can hear the excitement in that one softly spoken word: "Yes." He pours lube in his hand and I situate myself at the head of the bed. As he lays over my lap, he says, "Tell me how you're going to whore me out." I smile, leather paddle in hand. "I'm going to have some friends over. Me and my girlfriends are going to use you." He grunts as the leather makes a cracking sound, slapping against his flesh. "We're going to take turns fucking you while you lick pussy. You're going to make us all cum. You're going to be locked up, and you can't cum, unless you cum from us fucking you. How many of us are there? Three? Maybe four? And we all want to use you." As I continue my story, I start spanking his ass harder. I am encouraged by the myriad small yet forceful movements of his body as he strokes his cock with the fervor of an eager submissive, trying desperately to get off while he has permission, lest his Mistress change her mind. Even though the room is dimly lit, I can see that his cheeks are turning pinker from my paddling. "You're such a slut for it. All dressed up. Some ridiculous dress over your panties and garter belt and stockings. Heels, too. Getting your ass fucked while your face is buried between some woman's thighs. You fucking love that, don't you? Cum for me, Nick," I urge. I love that little whimpering sound that he makes when he's listening to one of my stories and he's so turned on. I know that he wants to cum so bad, but he needs me to keep talking. I alternate the paddling with soft caresses. Sometimes, I slide my finger teasingly up his ass crack. "Maybe after, as long as you make us all cum, we'll let you out of your cage. We'll have you kneel in the corner and we'll watch you jerk off. Except, you only get two minutes. If you don't cum within two minutes, I'm going to lock your cock back up and you won't get to cum. So you better cum for me, Nick. Cum for me, or I'm going to lock you back up." I hear that telltale groan, his body jerks, and I know he is shooting cum all over his hand, onto the blanket, and probably onto my thigh high stockings. He lays in my lap for a few seconds after his orgasm, then he gets up and walks toward the bathroom to wash off the cum that is dripping between his fingers. "Your ass is all rosy now." He pauses in front of the wall mirror, looking over his shoulder. "Oh yeah, it is." When he gets back into bed with me, he asks, "Was it weird for you, to be dominated by a man dressed like this? Or did it not really matter since you were face down and couldn't see me?" "I wasn't thinking about the way you were dressed when you were doing what you were doing to me. I fucking loved it." The next morning, I can't find my panties. "Did you steal my panties again? I can't find them." Sometimes, it's my stockings, or my shoes, that he tosses in with his stuff. Even though he is really into lingerie, he is still a man, and in his mind, I guess it all looks the same. Black thigh highs, black shoes, black panties... He starts going through the laundry basket. "Are these yours?" "No." "These?" "Maybe..." I take a closer look. "No." There's just something to be said for a relationship where a man and woman can get their undergarments mixed up... Personally, I fucking love it. And I love sharing these stories with him, and with you. Later that morning, we chat on Fetlife, and I tell him that I am having a hard time keeping up with my "journal." "We need to stop making these nights so noteworthy," I joke. His response makes me smile. "Never." I am going to hold him to that. My sissy, sexy switch of a muse. Funny, how he came twice and we never even needed the condoms. There's always next time...