10 comments/ 108867 views/ 43 favorites We Need a Man in the House By: colleenslittletoy The sun beat down on the asphalt with an unforgiving strength that bordered on relentless. The heat added to the discomfort of my losing efforts. My girlfriend, Carol, and I were playing tennis when the accident occurred. Carol is a better player than me, a lot quicker and more agile. We're about the same height and size and truthfully, I'm not that much stronger, so she held all the advantages. At a crucial point in the match, Carol placed a shot across court and very shallow, toward the edge of the net. Flustered at the way she was dominating the match, I made a desperate attempt to reach the short shot. Lunging forward—awkwardly, I caught the ball at the last second and managed to barely push it back over the net. Still propelling forward, I watched in amazement as Carol slammed it cross court for the winning point. As my eyes remained glued to the bouncing ball, my momentum carried me into the metal post that secured the net. The hard object won. Catching the post squarely in the groin, I saw stars shooting through my blackened mind. I fell, grabbing my aching crotch. For long moments I wriggled on the ground, moaning in agony. As usual, Carol found my clumsy efforts amusing; despite the fact I was in considerable pain. Finally, taking pity on me at last, she helped me to the car, chuckling with each moan. Practically carrying me across the lot, Carol dumped me unceremoniously into the back seat. While I lay there, my hand trying to comfort my throbbing groin, she drove us home. "Don't be such a baby, Donnie. Quit moaning so much, you sound like a little girl," Carol scolded. An amused smile flashed across her face at my obvious discomfort. Carol always smiled when I was put in an awkward situation, which unluckily for me, seemed to be quite often. Stumbling to the couch, I fell across the soft cushions while Carol called the doctor. Being a bit of a wuss, I found the pain almost unbearable. Despair set in and I wondered if I would ever be able use the wounded warrior again. Eventually, Carol returned with some ice cubes wrapped loosely in a dishcloth. "Take your clothes off, you big baby," she demanded. A valiant attempt to disrobe proved unsuccessful and I fell back on the couch with another moan. Taking charge once more, Carol yanked my shorts off. With obvious distaste, she pulled off my sweaty jock-strap. Holding the objectionable thing away from her wrinkled nose with only two fingers, she tossed it across the room in disgust. The pressure of the cold cloth against my groin elicited another groan. The ice cubes didn't do much to ease the pain, even as they shrank my already smallish member. The sounds of my anguish were becoming annoying. "Would you be quiet? You're worse than a girl!" Her eyes widened as though struck by an idea. She stood and walked away. "Just a minute, the doctor said there was something else I need to do to help ease your pain." Carol rummaged about the kitchen before coming back. In her hands were three pills and a glass of water. "What are these?" I asked. "Just take them. They'll help you to relax." After she forced the pills down my throat I fell back against the pillow and tried to forget the pain. Minutes later, the powerful medicine started taking effect and I began drifting in and out of consciousness. In the pleasant reverie, a soft, moist sensation covered the entire length of my legs. The feeling, incredibly sensual, was also slightly erotic. Following the dampness was a firm, scraping motion that also tickled my senses. As the scraping continued, my legs felt cooler, fresher, and smoother. Helping me to my feet, Carol guided me into a very hot, scented bath. More scraping ensued, under my arms, on my chest and around my groin. The dream seemed very real, as did the exotic sensations. The perfumed water and the sweet tingling of my skin caused a very pleasant feeling. Allowing me to soak for a while, the scent becoming one with mine, Carol finally pulled me out and toweled me dry. Seating me on the toilet, she drew a sheer fabric up my legs. The cloth ensnared me snugly all up and down my legs and clasped tightly at the waist. The feel of the tight constriction against my skin by the garment was simply delicious. With one hand under my arm Carol helped me to my feet. A very soft, satiny robe fell over my shoulders. It felt wonderful. After she toyed with my hair a little, she steered me to the bedroom. Almost as soon as I hit the pillow, I drifted off to sleep. A few hours later, the obstinate sound of a doorbell awakened me from a deep slumber. My eyes flickered open and I noticed it was dark out. I thought it must be during the night sometime. Fumbling for some clothes I found a robe on the bed. Although it felt softer and sexier than my usual one I slipped it over my shoulders and fit my arms through the holes, stumbling towards the door. The robe was short and light, giving me a strange, unfamiliar, sensual reaction to its feel. As I opened the door from the darkened bedroom, the bright lights from the living room temporarily blinded me. Blinking rapidly, I tried to focus. As my eyes cleared I saw Carol shaking hands with a tall, arrogantly handsome stranger, dressed in very stylish white shorts and a skin-tight, dark blue Polo shirt. My first thought was that the two made a very attractive couple, Carol, so alluring and the handsome stranger so ruggedly handsome. As they entered the main room, their attention turned to me. Still groggy, I noticed they broke out with broad smiles on their faces. A little dazed, it took a moment before I realized that they were staring at me and my peculiar outfit. Glancing down, I examined my attire. The robe, a dark red satin, was Carol's. It was short, barely covering my crotch and I had tied it snugly around my waist. Pantyhose encased my legs. "What the...?" Still groggy, I tried to comprehend the rather bizarre situation. "Don't worry, Donnie," Carol explained, "it was the doctor's orders. He suggested wearing something tight to support your... injured area. A pair of pantyhose was the only thing I could think of that would do the trick. But never mind the medical reasons, you look darling in that outfit! Don't you think, Ron?" Oddly, they were still holding hands from the initial hand shaking. "Who's he?" I asked. "This is Ron. Remember I told you I wanted you to have a roommate for your protection?" She turned to the fellow to explain. "He's out here all alone in this big house and I worry about him so much." Unfortunately, I remembered the conversation all too well. Yes, Carol had insisted I needed a roommate. Her reasons, she said, was that there had been a lot of robberies lately and she was worried about me. She didn't think I could protect myself. After a number of arguments, I lost the battle. I fought hard, but she was adamant. Being a man, I saw no need for someone to 'protect me'. Like always, she kept up her demands until I relented. "We need a man in the house," she kept insisting, much to my chagrin. Obviously, I felt deeply offended by the belittling remarks but like all of our disagreements I had finally given in and let her have her way. "This is your new roommate," Carol announced as she introduced me to the domineering presence. Ron strode across the room as though he owned the place, stopping directly in front of me. Towering above me by at least a foot, he offered his rather large hand. The powerful arm seemed to be all muscle. My original intention was to show him a bit of my strength and grip his hand hard but he caught me by the fingers so all I could do was wiggle, like a wimp. As he squeezed, he took my breath away. He was so strong! The pressure increased and I felt small and weak, befitting the way I was dressed. Staring into his eyes, he seemed the master of the situation. "Pleased to meet you, Donnie," he offered. Unfortunately, he called me by Carol's pet name for me. Under normal conditions, I preferred to be called Donald but, at the moment, for some reason, it didn't seem appropriate to correct him. He held my fingers much longer than he needed, but I didn't pull away, standing docilely, waiting for him to release me, following his lead. "That is a very cute outfit," he said to Carol, still clinging to my fingers. They talked about me as if I wasn't even there. "Does... he dress this way often?" I wanted to respond to the outrageous nature of the absurd statement, but Carol beat me to the punch and answered for me. "We're the same size so we often wear each others clothes." She was grinning broadly with the reply and he smiled back in return. Of course I wanted to say something in my defense but I couldn't get a word in between their laughter. "Donnie, be a good girl and mix some drinks for Ron and I while we discuss his living arrangements?" I started to say something about being called a girl but with my mind still befuddled from the drugs I did what I was told. While mixing the drinks I overheard Carol explaining to the arrogant stranger that he could live here for free since I had so much room and had a lot of money. She added that I was an excellent cook and housekeeper so that his only responsibility would be to watch over me—protect me and keep me from hurting myself. She made it sound like I was totally incapable of taking care of myself. "He's such a clumsy little guy that I've often worried he'll lock himself in the bathroom or fall down while showering or some such silly thing. In fact, I've insisted he take baths instead of showering for fear he'll injure himself." They were sitting together on the sofa when I brought the drinks. My first thought was they seemed awfully close to each other but being the courteous host that I am, I didn't mention anything. Handing them the glasses I realized I hadn't made one for myself. Standing awkwardly in front of them, trying to figure out what I should do next, Ron spoke up. "Donnie, why don't you go fix your hair while Carol and I get to know each other better." He patted her knee when he said her name. I didn't mind the familiarity but when the gentle gesture ended, he kept his hand on her knee. That was enough for me. After all the subtle put-downs, I blew. Just as I was about to tell him to get the hell out of my house I looked into his eyes. They were so dark and very intense—piercing. He was so big—so strong. Suddenly, I felt my composure slip into a state of immobility. As if hypnotized by his haughty demeanor, I simply nodded, acknowledging his request. As I turned and walked away Carol spoke up. "Donnie, your brush is in my bathroom," she reminded me. "Thanks." A few weeks ago, I redecorated the downstairs bathroom to her specifications. The walls were painted in a lovely pink shade, the floor covered in a matching rug, and every nook and cranny was filled with frilly decorations. All in all, the total appearance presented a not-too-subtle feminine aura. To my surprise, doing the chore gave me a pleasant sense of achievement and I enjoyed the entire project. The walk to the bathroom gave me time to consider the situation. The intrusion of another man, no matter how appealing he was, bothered me. Instead of trying to figure out how to get him out, I couldn't help wondering how his presence would change my life style. If he moved in, when he moved in, what role would he play? What role would I play? What role would he play with Carol? Sitting in front of the vanity in the soft, cushioned, fluffy chair helped me relax. It always did. There was something about the warmth and safety of the lovely room that filled me with such a wonderful sense of belonging. Checking out my reflection I could see that Carol must have been toying with my appearance again. She did that a lot, amusing herself especially by styling and playing with my hair. At times she made me feel like a little Barbie doll that she loved to play with. Strangely, being helpless under her domineering way always caused a stirring deep in my soul and aroused my little guy. I studied the effect of my hair. The length was longer than I preferred but Carol wanted it that way so naturally, I went along with her decision. Lately, Carol had been curling it, making it look feminine, too feminine I thought. As I studied the style I noticed that when I cocked my head to the side I almost looked believable as a young woman. Standing before the full-length mirror, I checked my overall appearance. The image, although not quite complete, showed a certain saucy sex appeal. Pirouetting, like a model, I noticed my legs seemed extra clean. My fingers raced over the nylons. A close examination revealed that my legs were hairless! Shocked, I wondered how Carol managed to shave them without my knowledge. As I fit pieces of dreams together I had to admit they looked nice. My legs curved in a feminine way and looked sort of sexy. I removed the robe and hung it over the back of the chair, checking my appearance without it. The look was disappointing. Without the feminine garb, the image was ruined. I glanced around the room. Maybe Carol had something that could help. Tossed in the hamper, waiting for laundry day, was some of Carol's discarded underclothes. On top was a beautiful, black, lacy pair of panties. I found the matching garter belt and bra, along with a very sexy black negligee. Being an incredible beauty, Carol looked absolutely gorgeous in these naughty clothes, her sex appeal undeniable. Of course, being the decadent voyeur I am, I looked forward to the times she dressed up. There was another reason I looked forward to her dressing up, other than just ogling. Whenever she wore lingerie, sexy lingerie, meant I was allowed to demonstrate my devotion by spending hours with my mouth glued between her legs, a treat both of us cherished. Over the course of the last few months, we developed a pattern in our lovemaking. Whenever Carol dressed in sexy clothes like these, it meant she wanted my tongue and mouth to spend long hours servicing her needs. She never let me assume the traditional male role while she was wearing sexy lingerie. It had been months since the little guy got to penetrate her delicious pussy. Often, while we were in bed and I was between her lovely legs feasting on her luscious snatch, she would pull the sheet over me as I demonstrated my devotion. As odd as our lovemaking might have seemed, I didn't mind. Frankly, there was some part of me that got off on pleasing her with my adoring tongue. In fact, it got to the point where sharing her orgasm orally was as satisfying as regular sex. The only time I could penetrate her was when she was completely naked and then she had to be on top. It didn't matter, I loved her with all my heart and whatever she wanted was fine with me. Being with her was enough, I never objected to anything she wanted. Frankly, I felt honored to be with a beautiful girl like her. There were times, I admit, when I wondered if she was with me because of my status. Inheriting a large fortune, I had a lot of money. But I was so grateful she was with me that I never dwelled too long on the thought. Grabbing Carol's panties from the hamper, I ran my fingers across the smooth fabric, relishing the sensation. They felt so luxurious. Almost by magic, they found their way to my nose and I inhaled deeply. To my disappointment, there was no scent except the smell of the fabric. Carol hadn't worn these yet. The precious odor of her womanhood hadn't yet graced this pair. Although the panties were scrumptious, they didn't suit the mood I was in, so I tossed them aside. Deeper in the hamper was the pair she wore while we played tennis. The plain white cotton panties were still a little damp from her exertions. Once again, I brought them to my nose. The scent was heavenly. As if having a mind of its own, my tongue sought the crotch. There was a stir in my panties as my little guy roused to attention. The sudden excitement brought a dull pain to my aching balls, but being tightly encased in the nylons helped. The nylons felt so good against my shaved legs. I ran my hand down my thighs, relishing the soft, smooth feel. They felt just like Carol's. Without considering the consequences, I removed the stockings and slipped on the black panties. A moment later I put the nylons back on. Wearing the panties only enhanced the sensation I felt with the nylons. The combination was heavenly. Not content with the partial dress, I added a bra to the overall appearance. The effect was very disappointing. The way the fabric lay flat against my chest didn't seem right. Pawing through the hamper, I stuffed some of her other panties inside the cups. Admonishing myself that the hamper was very full, I made a mental note to make sure I did the laundry soon. I hadn't realized there were so many dirty clothes. Once the cups were filled, I looked better. Examining the reflection in the mirror I tried various poses searching for the best angle. Arching my back and holding in my sides to push out my upper chest seemed the naughtiest. With a little dieting, I thought, I could develop some curves and maybe look as good as Carol. Even Ron would see that. Suddenly I stopped the ridiculous charade. What was I thinking about? How absurd. I'm a man, not some tart trying to seduce the ruggedly handsome man. Ridding my head of these insane thoughts I glanced over at the negligee. The thought crossed my mind wondering if wearing that piece would complete the look I was trying to achieve. I couldn't wait. Grabbing it I slipped the smooth fabric over my head. Checking my appearance in the mirror, I caught my breath. There. Now that's perfect, I thought as I scrutinized the image in the mirror. With a little make up I could look just like... "Donnie?" Carol interrupted my reverie. "What in the world?" she said loudly. "Ron, come in here. You've got to see this! Donnie you look absolutely wonderful." Carol walked over to stand next to me. Ron entered. When he saw me, a huge grin spread across his face. For some reason I noticed that his Polo shirt was untucked. Also, Carol's hair seemed a bit tousled. "Donnie, you're simply gorgeous," Ron stated. My face turning bright red, I felt totally humiliated. Here I was, standing in front of my girl and my new roommate in feminine apparel. Before I could offer an explanation, Carol took my hand. "Come on, Donnie. I'm going to tuck you in. The doctor said you should get plenty of sleep." "But I have to take you home." "Don't worry about me getting back. Ron will take me home. By the way, he's going to move in tomorrow. After discussing his needs, we decided that he should use your room. He needs lots of closet space so I promised he could have the master bedroom. You can move your stuff out tomorrow morning. Put everything in my room." I was still too shocked to respond. She led me by the hand to the guest room. Like her bathroom, it too was furnished in a frilly and feminine motif. Guiding me to the bed, I slid under the silk sheets. After she tucked me in she kissed me on the cheek. With her lips next to my ear, she whispered. "If you dress up like this tomorrow night I'll give you your favorite treat." We both knew what that meant. My reaction was immediate and I felt a bulge grow in my panties. She noticed the slight rise in the blanket and grabbed my arm. "Don't waste it tonight. You know it's better if you wait. Besides you're ruining all of my panties with that icky gook." She turned to leave then mentioned, "I'm taking the credit cards. We're going to need a lot more clothes for the both if us now." She gave me a real knowing look followed by a wink before leaving. She did give me one last image, one that is etched in my mind. Before she left, I got to watch that gorgeous derriere of hers wiggle very seductively out of the room. We Need a Man in the House A few minutes later, I heard them leave. Laughter rang out from the two of them as they walked to his car. Silence followed. Suspicious thoughts entered my head. A comparison between Ron and myself could not be favorable, at least for me. Carol must be thinking that Ron is much more of a man than I am, especially after seeing me dressed like a slut. As slumber drifted near, I thought maybe I should remove the feminine clothes. And I thought I should sleep in my own bed. But as my hands ran across the smooth texture of the expensive sheets that I abandoned the thoughts and succumbed to sleep. Waking up an hour or so later I decided to check to see if Carol got home all right. After I dialed, the phone rang and rang even though I knew she had an extension in the bedroom. Finally, she answered. Her voice sounded strained as if she was out of breath. "Carol? It's me, Donnie." I thought I heard whispering in the background as she held her hand over the mouthpiece. "Donnie, why are you still awake? I told you to get some sleep. Are you purposely trying to anger me? You know I don't like it when you disobey me." It sounded like soft smacking in the background and Carol seemed to emit a tiny, choking sound. "I just wanted to make sure you got home all right," I explained contritely. The last thing I wanted was to get her mad at me. There was a pause before she responded. Her voice was very low when she answered. "Ok, Donnie. Go to sleep now like a good girl and I'll see you tomorrow," she said brokenly. She groaned. Setting aside her gender error in my concern for her well-being, I asked. "Are you ok?" She was breathing very deeply. "Yes. I'm fine. Excellent in fact. I'm just very tired. Goodbye." Just before she hung up I thought she stifled a scream but maybe I was still a little groggy from the events of the day. The next morning found me very refreshed. The dream that stayed with me as I floated back into consciousness was about Ron and Carol. The images were still clear. As I remembered, I walked into my own bedroom to discover the two of them coupled together, he on top of her, screwing her with his massive tool. Standing in the doorway, I watched as Carol screamed out in pleasure. I was dressed in her lingerie and I was playing with my little guy as I watched. That's when I woke up, surprisingly, with a hard on. Yawning, I rolled over. The first impression I had while wide-awake was the wonderful feel of the clothes I was wearing. Clad in sexy underwear, underneath the smooth satin sheets, I felt warm, good—safe. Reluctantly, I arose and removed the precious clothes, placing them in Carol's hamper. In the mood I was in, I decided to take a bath instead of taking a shower. As I drew the bath water, I added some deliciously scented bath liquids that Carol used all the time. Soaking in the hot water felt so wonderful that I stayed there for quite a while. While lathering the little stubbles of hair on my legs poked out and I thought that it must have been very difficult for Carol to shave me while I was unconscious. Well, I thought, I might as well finish the job she started and do it right. However, it was much harder than I imagined. Scraping every nook and cranny took more grace than I seemed to have. "Being a woman isn't as easy as it looks," I mumbled. "It appears to take a lot of effort." After drying, I put on some of Carol's powder. It felt heavenly—so refreshing that I wondered why men didn't use it all the time. Carol's favorite perfume beckoned. Spraying the mist around my body, carefully choosing some intimate places, I squirted the wonderful scent liberally. Housework lay ahead but still I wanted to be decent as well as comfortable. By nature I am too modest to walk around nude so I slipped on a brief, terry robe that Carol loafed around in, and returned to my new bedroom, Carol's room. The immediate task was to transfer my stuff to this room. The drawers in the dresser were filled with many of Carol's dainty underwear. From the very beginning of the relationship I promised she would have an unlimited budget on anything she wanted from Frederick's of Hollywood and Victoria's Secret and she took advantage of my largesse. There were few styles that she hadn't purchased. Without any extra space in the dresser, I was left with a dilemma. Where was I going to put all of my things? While deliberating the conundrum, I subconsciously began to caress the soft, sexy clothes. Under a stack of panties were packages of unopened nylons. "Carol mentioned that the doctor advised me to wear something tight around my jewels, to help ease the pain," I whispered. Part of my brain screamed I shouldn't, but my libido overcame the caution. I decided to wear nylons, at least for another day. After all, the ache still existed. Sitting on the bed, I pulled the sheer pair up my leg, careful not to snag them. I had practice. There were many times I had helped Carol dress so I was familiar with the subtleties of women's attire and knew enough to bunch up the nylons and ease them on by carefully rolling them up my legs. Comfortable with being alone, I checked out my appearance. Under the simple robe the nylons made a good start. Toying with my hair, as it flopped down over my forehead, I decided to keep it out of my eyes. If I was going to work I probably should wear it up. One of Carol's pretty scarves did the trick and I wrapped it around the top of my head. The scarf was rather attractive, a feminine, bluish, floral thing. It certainly brought out the shade of my eyes. Working diligently, I managed to get most of my stuff out of Ron's bedroom and moved over to mine, filling many boxes. There wasn't time enough to unload everything before I heard the doorbell ring. Without considering my state of dress, I went to answer it. As the door swung open, a startled Ron confronted me. His shocked look made me realize that I was clad rather inappropriately. My face turned beet red. "Well, Donnie, you sure do like to dress up," he said. Before I could respond he handed me his suitcase and walked right by me. "Why don't you put my stuff away while I take a swim? Then we can lunch at the pool." As I carried the heavy bag to his bedroom I thought to myself that I should have argued with him or at least reacted in an angry way but something about his air of superiority kept me from disagreeing with him. It was almost as if he had some power over me, like he was the one in control. For some reason I found it easier to give in to him. It seemed natural to do as he said. I tried to ignore the stirring in my groin whenever he was around. Tugging the suitcase inside the room I heaved it on top of the bed. "Well, as long as I carted it this far I might as well put his things away. After all, he won't know where everything goes." As I unpacked and handled the articles, I discovered Ron owned very manly clothes. Most of his underwear was bikini-like in nature. As I held a black pair in hand I imagined how tight they must be on his masculine body. Putting the sexy articles away made me feel a bit strange, as though touching some exotic array of yesterday. It was very similar to the odd sensation I got when I put on some of Carol's fluffy stuff. My next surprise was found underneath the layer of socks and briefs. All sorts of leather apparel were discovered. Black leather pants, a matching vest, and some underwear that looked sinister. Just touching the dominating material made me feel giddy. When I finished the task in the bedroom, I hurried to make lunch. A couple of roast beef sandwiches and a beer should suffice I thought. Minutes later I walked to the pool and found him sprawled out on a lounge chair. My eyes ran up and down his muscular torso. His trunks fit tight and bulged at the crotch. For a moment I paused. He looked like a dark Greek god. "Here's your lunch, Ron," I said meekly as I set the tray on the table next to him. He glanced up and motioned me to serve him. I did. As he ate, tiny breadcrumbs fell to his broad, hairy chest. Like a lowly lackey, I stood next to him unsure of my position as I waited his instructions. "You forgot the napkin," he stated. As I started to rush to the kitchen to retrieve one Ron stopped me. "Never mind, just brush the crumbs off." The words were not spoken menacingly yet I felt that it was important I obey. Bending over was too far of a reach so I knelt alongside the chair. Once on my knees I felt the strangest sensation. His power seemed to exude from every pore. Up close, it was even more apparent how masculine and strong he was. At the moment, I felt more than just a servant, I felt like a slave of a Roman master, no, like a slave to his black Nubian master. Slowly, almost reverentially, I brushed the crumbs from his broad chest with my small hands, sweeping them to the side. My fingers felt the tough nipples on his sinewy chest and hesitated as though wanting more. It was at that particular moment when Carol walked out. "I see Donnie is being very helpful," she said with a smug grin on her face. As she walked by me, she gave the top of my head a friendly pat. Leaning down she kissed Ron on the mouth, her tongue groping his. He reached up and pinched her nipple. Gasping in surprise, I felt a flash of jealousy sear through me, but then, with the little guy stirring in my panties, I discovered that somewhere deep inside my perverted psyche I enjoyed the humiliating scene. If anything I felt envious of Carol. "After all," Carol stated as she came up for air, "we must do everything we can to make our new guest's stay enjoyable." She shot Ron a suggestive look and gave him a very seductive wink. Her hand caressed his arm. He returned her smile and made room for her to sit alongside him. Sitting on the edge of his chair, with her hand still clinging to his arm, she turned to face me. "Donnie, I bought some things for you and laid them on your bed. Be a good girl an go change into them?" As they both watched my reaction, I nodded meekly and left, ignoring the sounds of pleasure they made. The masculine part of my brain, what was left of it, threw out a scream of anger, but as I walked away the heat was battled by a surge of raw lust. Simultaneous yet conflicting emotions boiled inside me. There was something very emasculating yet extremely exciting at the bizarre scene. Carol was my girlfriend and I wanted to keep her, but it was easy to see her attraction to the rugged and masculine Ron. A quick stop in the bathroom provided a towel to wipe the sweat from my brow. My heart was thumping with desire. The reflection in the mirror showed a poor imitation of a female servant. Surely, I could do better. Wondering what Carol bought for me to wear, I headed for the bedroom. As I glanced inside, I was overcome with a new sensation and the little guy tingled with anticipation. Laid out on the bed was a French maid's uniform complete with a cute little white hat and a frilly, embroidered apron. My Gemini nature fought again. There was a part of me that felt eager to don the servile outfit. There was another part of me that demanded I reject the insulting attire. It seemed I was in a constant state of confusion ever since Ron showed up. As I thought about the arrogant man, a pang of jealousy ran through me. It was difficult to deny that he and Carol were developing a relationship. It didn't take him long to become intimate with my girl. For a moment I wondered how far had the two had gone last night. The flow of jealousy continued as I considered the kissing going on outside. I visualized Carol's soft lips yielding to his full, thick ones. I stopped. A bizarre notion ran through my mind. Was I jealous of Ron kissing my girl or did I somehow wish I were in her place? Mustering one last ounce of courage I headed to the pool. Carol saw me approach and jumped up, out of his arms. "What are you doing here, Donnie? Didn't I tell you to go get dressed?" Her voice had risen to almost a yell. "But Carol, I can't wear that. It's a maid's costume," I muttered, embarrassed at my meek reply. "Donnie, what is your problem today?" "Well, this is my house and you're my girl..." I was losing my line of reasoning as I saw the anger build in both of their eyes. "How dare you disobey me?" Her hand lashed out and slapped me squarely on the cheek. Embarrassed by her display and my inability to react, I didn't know whether to be mad or chagrined. She had never hit me before. The strange thing was that pain didn't bother me. It was not nearly as strong an emotion as the feeling of humiliation that I felt. Once again though, the humiliating aspect of the situation caused a definite stirring in my panties. I was oddly aroused. Trying to regain some vestige of respect, I explained. "I can't wear that outfit, Carol," I pleaded. "Why can't we make Ron leave so we can be like before? Didn't you like it that way?" My voice was rising in timbre, almost begging. My hands grabbed her shoulders in desperation. Suddenly, Ron was beside us. He towered over me like an adult would a child. Even alongside me I could tell he was so big and so strong. Glancing at him I saw his eyes blaze, turning cold and serious. The penetrating look frightened and excited me at the same time. He put a hand on my arm. Instantly, I released Carol from my grasp. "You have to learn to do as we say." To emphasize his point, he pushed me rather casually. Unable to resist even the slightest shove from this powerful man, I flew away from him and fell into the pool. Swimming quickly to the opposite edge, I scampered out and ran for the bathroom, water dripping from my clothes. Once inside the pink room, I stripped the drenched articles from my body, casting them into the hamper. Grabbing a large, fluffy towel I dried myself off. As I powdered my soft skin Carol entered. She smiled, pleased when she saw me performing the feminine duty. Caught off-guard, I covered my nakedness with my hands, suddenly embarrassed at the sight of my shrunken member cowering meekly. "Donnie," Carol cooed sweetly. When she spoke in this tone I always melted. "If you wear the outfit, I promise I'll give you a special treat tonight." That's all it took. My heart fluttered with both love and lust and my shrunken soldier stirred. Sticking up a proud three inches, the valiant appendage responded with vigor to the sound of her promise. Succumbing to her demand I nodded my assent. It seemed so easy to give in. All I ever wanted was to please her. Satisfied that I was now obedient, Carol helped me dress. As I donned the feminine outfit I felt an incredible thrill, loving the way it felt against my skin. The nylons, the panties, and the cute little dress made me feel so sexy, so desirable, and so vibrant. "You're such a good girl, Donnie. Make sure you apologize to Ron for your misbehavior. If you do, I'll help you put on your makeup. Will you do that?" I nodded, bowing my head like the servant I was becoming. She spent a lot of time showing me the subtle things I could do to make everything just right, allowing me to practice so I looked perfect. With deliberate care she plucked my bushy eyebrows, making the look softer, more feminine. My lips were painted bright red, as she demonstrated how to kiss the tissue to insure leaving just the proper amount. The eye shadow was applied artfully, a little overdone for my taste but it did give me a wanton appearance which I had to admit fit my French maid role. When she was finished we both gazed into the mirror at my appearance. Fixing my hair so it held the little white hat, she completed the picture. To my surprise, I looked the perfect image of a saucy, tart French maid. Also, I looked a little bit racy, as though I wanted to be spanked. "Now go tell Ron that you're sorry about what you said and that you want him to stay." She peered into my eyes and said, "We need a man about the house...don't you agree?" Slowly, ever so slowly, I nodded. With that gesture, I abandoned any ideas of fulfilling the role myself and began my transition to becoming their servant. When I minced my way outside on the high heels she provided, I found Ron in the midst of exercising. His rugged ebony muscles gleamed with perspiration, accenting his perfect body. In the bright sunlight, he exuded strength, manliness, and authority. As I approached in a meek and subservient manner, he stopped. His intense eyes pierced mine as if ready for another confrontation but as he observed my outfit, he relaxed with a grin. Confidently, he waited as I neared. At this point, he was in control of the situation and we both knew it. Instead of anger, some part of me was excited at the thought of surrendering to him. This new sensation was overwhelming me and I found I was enjoying the little humiliations of the day. "Ron," I stated as I bowed my head in a demonstration of servility, "I'm sorry about what happened. I apologize for what I said and did. And the way I acted. It won't happen again. I'll be good." The interesting part was that my apology was legitimately sincere. In my heart I felt contrite and very humble especially before this incredibly superior being. Somehow the act of submission felt not only appropriate, but, in a perverse way, very arousing. Pleased at my humbling apology, he nodded his approval. Later that evening, after spending the day doing chores, I served the two of them dinner, using every culinary skill to prepare an elaborate meal, complete with an expensive wine and highlighted with candles to establish the mood. To my delight they seemed to enjoy the meal. Doing my best to stay out of the way, I scurried around keeping their glasses full and their courses served while keeping quiet and unobtrusive. After the meal, they retired into the living room with their brandies, ignoring me completely which only served to add to my feeling of being their servant. For my part, I cleaned up the table, washed the dishes and then waited by the door to see if they needed anything else. Through the thin woodwork, I heard the clear sounds of an erotic and sensual encounter. Moaning, by Carol, followed by grunts from Ron were the only noises with the exception of Carol calling out his name during a series of orgasms. Prior to this day I would have imagined I would have felt both anger and jealousy listening to my girl being taken by another man, even a man the caliber of Ron. Instead, I was becoming aroused as I eavesdropped on their passion. The thought of two perfect beings engaged in a bout of lovemaking was driving me wild with lust. As I listened, I couldn't help wondering about the two. Carol was sexy, beautiful, everything a man ever wanted in a woman. Ron was a perfect specimen of the ideal lover. Who did I envy more? Who would I rather be? The ambiguity I felt was my tearing me apart. Did I want to be Ron in this situation—a big, strong manly man, as absurd as that seemed in my current state? Or did I want to be Carol and be ravished by this Adonis? Finally, Carol called for me, telling me to go ahead and go to bed. Her instructions came just in time as I almost had succumbed to pulling the little guy out of my panties and satisfying myself. As I washed myself in the bathroom, she stuck her head in. "Wait up for me tonight sweetie; I'm going to give you something special." My face lit up. She kissed my cheek and patted my fanny. "You'll enjoy it, I promise." It took longer than usual to prepare for bed just to wash off the makeup. Passing their bedroom, the master bedroom, my old room, I heard Carol groaning in a way she never groaned with me. The intense passion in her voice was a new sound and I found myself wondering how exactly Ron was able to arouse her to such heights. The bed squeaked and a steady rhythm ensued. We Need a Man in the House It was all right, I thought, Carol would take care of me, too. There had been many times in the past where I had considered sharing her affection—as long as she was good to me. I knew, deep down, that I was unable to satisfy her, that my little guy was not up to the task of arousing the kind of passion that Ron was obviously doing. Also, I had many thoughts about her with other, bigger, more virile men. Some nights I even masturbated fantasizing about some he-man taking her in the way she deserved. Now, it was apparent that my fantasies, as well as hers, were coming true. As I thought about my girl being ravished by the muscular Ron I felt a searing of lust tear through my veins. Obviously, I enjoyed the position I was in, dressing up as a maid and becoming a cuckold as well as a servant to the two of them. Preparing myself for Carol's eventual arrival, I put on a beautiful, floor length, red satiny nightgown. A matching pair of red panties accompanied the outfit. Spotting Carol's favorite perfume, I sprinkled a little on my neck before slipping into bed. My thoughts drifted to the two perfect creatures in the next room uniting in heavenly bliss. Lost in a layer of lust, I envisioned Carol's voluptuous body hovering over Ron's sculpted one, impaled on what must be an awesome, massive tool. Picturing the two of them, my tiny member rose to it's fullest under the soft folds of the gown. The little guy was so excited thinking about a real man with a real woman. After what seemed like hours, Carol finally made her way to my room. The night lamp was on and as she entered I could see her flushed, contented face. Her hair was tousled in that 'I've just been fucked royal-look' and her eyes were filled with a satisfaction—a deep contentment that I could never give her even on my best day. Of course, my best day was always with my tongue because whenever I was allowed the privilege of entering her I never lasted long, a few strokes at most, so she never achieved climax that way. My problem, besides being cursed with a miniscule weapon, was that the exquisite sensation of being in that velvety snatch was so incredible that I had no control over my little guy. After entering the heaven between her legs with a few mighty thrusts, I finished all too quickly. As Carol approached, I noticed that her naked body glistened with the perspiration of their coupling. With a wicked smile on her face, she wiggled in a sexy manner to the dresser, swaying that delicious derriere like a professional stripper. Pawing around inside the drawer, she found what she wanted. Making sure I was watching, she strapped on a black, lacy bra that pushed up her already full breasts and made them seem larger. The reverse strip tease made my throat constrict. I had a hard time swallowing. Next she slipped into a pair of crotchless, sexy, matching panties. Turning so I could see every curve, every sensual part of her awesome body, she walked towards me. Slowly, seductively, she pulled the sheet down. A smug smile appeared as she approved of my attire. "Very good, Donnie," she said. "You're catching on. I told Ron that you were a quick learner and that you would be a good girl." Not wasting another second, Carol swung one leg over my head and slowly lowered her treasure to my eager, waiting mouth. My tongue rose to meet the object of my devotion. A loud groan of desire escaped my throat. There was absolutely nothing I loved more than feasting between her legs, at her delicious pussy. I was born to worship her. As I licked I tasted something different. Strange juices oozed from her blessed fount. The feel was almost salty, creamier and more plentiful. "Drink up, Donnie," she gasped, as my tongue and mouth worked their magic. "Don't you dare waste one drop." Even though I knew what they were doing, for some reason I didn't consider the end result of their coupling. Running the liquids across my tongue I suddenly recognized what the strange liquid was. Ron. Mixed with Carol's juices was Ron's thick, manly sperm. The humiliating act of cleaning my girlfriend after she made love with someone else weighed heavily on me. The act put me in a rather precarious position, especially between the two of them. As I continued my adorations, a slow transition occurred. The deed began to feel natural—good even, as though it was supposed to be this way. With no further guilt, I obeyed her, actually relishing in the debasement. Besides, after the last couple of days, I was too far-gone now. And after all, I always did what Carol told me to do. Becoming the good supplicant, I licked eagerly, drinking the gooey stuff and swallowing like a greedy pig. All of it. And there was so much. When the juices stopped flowing she shifted slightly so my tongue could work its magic on her clit. Greedily, I sucked and nibbled, the way she liked it, until she finally climaxed. "Oh Donnie, that was wonderful! We're going to have so much fun together." As I continued my loving adorations at her delicious pussy I recognized that she didn't mean just what she and I did. She meant what the three of us did. Rolling around in the back of my mind I realized what that meant. Two would enjoy the fruits and pleasures of wonderful lovemaking and one of us would be used for cleanup duties. Carol stood up and removed her panties. Pulling the nightgown from my cock she saw it standing there, hard and proud. "Now for your special treat," she said. Once again, she sat over me, this time facing my feet. In a total state of awe, I watched in fascination as her beautiful butt lowered to my eager and receptive mouth. Early in our relationship she had trained me to achieve orgasm while kissing her luscious behind. Happily, I was a willing and enthusiastic student, and turned into a true devotee. There was nothing I adored more than her gorgeous ass. It seemed so right—worshipping the perfect object of my devotion. With the discarded panties in her hand, Carol grabbed my tiny cock and slowly ran the fabric up and down the shaft. The sensation of the soft fabric sent shivers through me. Guided by my reaction, she encased the entire length in the panties. Slowly, as my tongue sought entrance to that forbidden hole, she pumped my little guy. Short waves of ecstasy shot through me. My tongue burrowed as deeply as it could into her nether region. Drowning in the lust she created, I thought I heard the door open but I was too lost in the corruption of the moment to care. Grunting like a perverted freak I slobbered into her asshole, licking and mouthing like I was starving. Surrendering to her in this debasing way was too much and within moments I exploded, my cock erupting violently into the pleasant fabric. It was heaven! Drifting down from the rapturous sensation, I felt her wipe the shrinking member clean, leaving the drenched panties wrapped around my miniscule, satisfied member. As I drifted into a deep slumber, erotic, tantalizing dreams filled the night. The first dream was watching Ron and Carol together. The next fantasy was feasting at Carol's delicious pussy, especially after it was filled with Ron's manly sperm. The last dream was revealing. In it, I became Ron's girl. Needless to say, I awoke with a smile on my face, licking my lips as the last vestiges of the dreams from the night before faded. The taste of Carol and Ron's juices lingered on my lips. It was at this point that I realized that I would do anything for Carol. Even if it meant serving Ron. Recalling the dream from the night before, I wondered if I would serve Ron because of my love for Carol or for another reason. Did some part of me want to be Ron's girl? The reason didn't really matter to me. The only question on the horizon was how far this game would go. How far were they willing to take this bizarre relationship? And, more importantly, how far would I have to go to fulfill my part? Nothing mattered. As long as Carol allowed me precious moments with my tongue between her thighs, I knew I would do whatever they wanted. Getting prepared for the day, I bathed in scented water and threw on a sheer nightgown. After touching up my makeup, not as much as the night before, I went to the kitchen for something to eat. Checking the refrigerator, I thought I should watch my figure so I selected a grapefruit. Carol left a note by some pills. It read that I needed to take four a day. Swallowing the group, I wondered what they were. Resigned to follow her orders, I set aside any concerns—anything she wanted. The question was, would I do anything Ron wanted? Finishing the fruit, I tidied up a bit, making sure the kitchen was spotless. In the bathroom, I emptied the hamper and carried the dirty clothes to the laundry room. One of my greatest pleasures was washing Carol's clothes, especially her deliciously scented underwear. She didn't know about the times I spent smelling her odors, licking her juices from the soft fabric. As I passed the master bedroom with the laundry basket in hand, I decided I might as well check to see if Ron had anything that needed washing, too. Carol had left early and from the sounds in the bathroom, I assumed Ron was taking a shower. Glancing around my old room I noticed various articles of clothes tossed around on the floor. Sighing like an overworked maid, I picked up his soiled garments. In the laundry room I sighed as I went about my duties. Naturally, I did Carol's intimacies by hand, filling the sink with a mixture of special soap and mild perfume. One of my quirks was that I couldn't help inhaling the sweet fragrance first, licking the crotch for a final taste of her juices before rinsing them in the water and washing them away. As I licked the panties on top, I tasted something different. There was a crusty residue that had the same texture as last night. To my surprise, I recognized the flavor. It was Ron's residue. Instead of being repulsed at savoring Ron's sperm, I found the exotic mixture fueled an erotic desire that continued to develop in me. As I loaded Ron's stuff I noticed that his underwear seemed so masculine, not anything like the frilly things I wore. Not for the first time I speculated about how masterful he was, how strong, how handsome. The only thing I could do was treat his underwear with the proper respect they deserved. After finishing my chores, I felt tired so I parked myself down in the warm sun. A flowery see-through robe, pink panties and nylons were my only attire. After I closed my eyes, dreams of Carol and Ron filled my mind. Strangely, I wasn't sure any more which one I admired more. "Well, don't you look pretty, Donnie boy? Or should I say, Donnie girl?" Peering through the bright sunshine I spotted Sam, a tall, burly, black man who cleaned my pool. Sam had always looked down at me. Obviously he didn't care for the way I treated him. To me, in my mind, a pool cleaner was a lackey, a man who had no real skills. Clad in my feminine attire, I no longer felt like the haughty employer. A knowing look spread across his face and he gazed at my bizarre apparel, definitely enjoying my current predicament. Turning beet red and too embarrassed to move, I sat in my chair like a deer caught in the headlights. Wanting to flee but afraid to move, I remained motionless as he placed his big paw on my shoulder. "I always figured you were a little girlie, so small and so fragile." His hand caressed my shoulder and moved down. "Yes ma'am, you do make a pretty girl." Needless to say, I was mortified by the situation I found myself in. Sam had no problem taking advantage of my hesitation. His hand crept under my robe and his fingers found my nipple. Squeezing sharply, I was surprised when the nipple hardened, becoming aroused. "You want to see what Sam has got for you, honey?" Gasping at my reaction to his masterful touches, I was further surprised when he unzipped his tight jeans and revealed a massive, black cock. "You see this, missy? It's something all you white girls want. You've heard the stories. It's nice and big, just how you like them. Come give Sam a big kiss with those red lips of yours." The lipstick I applied this morning was working against me now. He wasn't talking about a mouth to mouth kiss. He wanted me to wrap my lips around that huge shaft! After the nights of fantasizing about Ron and his mighty weapon I had to admit I had more than one thought about paying homage to a magnificent weapon like his. Almost hypnotized by his mesmerizing eyes, I leaned forward, guided along by his strong hand. "You want to kiss me don't you, Donnie girl? You want to taste my man-sized cock with your pretty little lips, don't you?" Dressed as I was, it was difficult resisting his overpowering strength. As he neared, I glanced again at the impending beast approaching. The size of his organ was gigantic! There was no way I could ever fit that mammoth monstrosity into my mouth! Despite my reservations, my tongue touched the top of my lip. Gasping at the size of that huge appendage he took advantage of the opening and pushed the mighty weapon into my gaping mouth. Licking slightly, I moistened the prick, creating a smoother surface for his lunging. My mouth sucked at the same time causing a nice vacuum for his pleasure. Avoiding the repercussions of my act, I fantasized that I was Carol, kneeling before her master, Ron, gazing up at his powerful, brawny body. With this image encased in my mind, I grabbed Sam's balls with my hand and tenderly stroked them in unison to the sucking and penetrating that was going on. Only by believing I was Carol and he was Ron was I able to accept what I was doing. Picturing Ron towering above me, succumbing to his mastery, I humbly performed the task before me. It seemed right. "What's going on here?" The voice that barked out was Ron's. Sam grabbed the back of my head and continued his constant ramming. The humiliation was too great! Caught in a cock-sucking act by Ron, how could I ever live this down? How could I let Ron see me this way? What would he think of me? Because of Sam's pressure and insistence I kept on sucking, allowing the embarrassing display to continue. Sam answered Ron very coolly. "She's just taking care of business," Sam bragged, enjoying the dual pleasures of shaming me and using me at the same time. From my lowly position, I heard Ron approach, his footsteps on the concrete. He stopped to the side of us. I felt his eyes on me as I continued the humiliating service on the lowly pool man. Not only was I doing a perverted act, I was doing it with a mere servant! How much lower could a man sink? "Well," Ron replied, "she wasn't supposed to be doing this yet. But I guess she is more receptive than we figured." He left, chuckling. Moments later, Sam's huge organ erupted. A large load of cum gushed down my throat. Sucking and swallowing at the same time, I gagged at the copious amount. The taste was similar to last night only stronger and lots more. Gulping and gulping, like a fish out of the bowl, I was unable to escape this last debasement because Sam's powerful hands kept me in place. Grunting with pleasure, Sam released me at last. Free from those strong hands I lingered before the spent, yet still large cock. Fascinated by its power, I licked the last remaining drops of cum off of the beast. He laughed at the sight of my cleaning up the residue. Patting my head affectionately, he spoke. "That was real good, little one. Don't feel bad. You were mastered by the black snake, just like I thought you would be." He grabbed my hair and forced me to look up. "This is a little different from the times you looked down on me, isn't it? I think my rates just tripled. And, I'll be requiring some help when I show up. And after I'm finished, I'll be expecting a reward." I gave his organ one last lick before leaning back on my haunches. Abashed and conquered I gazed up at the powerful man. "You're a good girl, Donnie. Now you better get inside before your master gets upset. He didn't seem to like to share you." He patted my head again like I was a pet dog. "Meet me next Wednesday behind the shed and we can do it again. Send me a check now. Don't forget." For a moment it flashed across my mind that he hadn't cleaned the pool like he was supposed to, but considering the circumstances, it seemed irrelevant. I added the chore to the rest I had to do. Still on my knees, I watched as Sam reinserted his flaccid cock back into his jeans and zipped up. With a last chuckle he turned and left. Remaining on my knees I licked the moisture from my lips, watching him walk away. What had I done? I acted like such a slut! What would Ron think of me now? Scurrying back into the house, I hid in my new bedroom, throwing myself on the bed and crying like a broken-hearted teenage girl. Replaying the wretched scene over in my mind, I recalled the look on Ron's face as he caught me. He was surprised, but didn't seem angry. Maybe he would forgive me after all. Fixing my face in the bathroom, I repaired the damage done by Sam's assault. Maybe if I dressed like I did last night, Ron would forgive me. As I slipped back into my French maid's uniform Carol entered. "Donnie?" She stared at me, checking for my reaction. Seeing my attire her attitude immediately changed. She took charge. "Donnie how could you?" she accused. I didn't answer. "You should have saved yourself. How is Ron supposed to feel, knowing you'll submit to anyone, even the pool boy, when he is supposed to be the man of the house?" Her eyes blazed. She wasn't condemning the act itself but rather whom I had done it with. Carol grabbed my hands as she tried to explain. "Ron has tried very hard to be the man of the house for both of us and then he finds his maid with the pool cleaner." The way she confided in me made me feel like I was one of her good girlfriends who she just found out was cheating on her husband. "Ron wanted us to be the perfect hostesses and then you go and ruin it by your wanton, slutty behavior. Don't you think you owe him another apology?" For the first time I noticed her short, tight mini-skirt and her opened blouse that displayed her full breasts. She looked so sexy, but then, she always did. Part of me wondered whom Ron would find more alluring—her dressed like the sexy girlfriend or me, clad in a saucy, naughty maid's uniform? "Well, you go apologize to him right now," she commanded. Mincing into the living room, I found Ron sitting on the couch, dressed only in very brief shorts. He filled the room with his domineering presence. His broad chest showed off his physique and revealed his muscles. He looked so masculine that I had a hard time speaking. He glanced up at me with a blank look. "Ron," I whispered, "I want to apologize for my behavior earlier at the pool. He, uh, he forced me. He thought I was a girl and made me do that awful thing to him." Life had certainly changed since Ron moved in. From the moment he came into my world it seemed I was always dressed as a woman. Now, I had begun to act like one. What happened to the days where I was in control? I wondered how he could walk in and take over so completely, and with such ease. Staring at his perfectly sculpted chest and bulging biceps, I recognized how. He was such a commanding presence. My tongue ran over my upper lip. "I'm so sorry, Ron," I muttered, almost crying. "It won't happen again. I'll go change out of these silly clothes and everything will go back to normal. I don't know why I have been acting so strange lately." He stood and waved me closer. I drew near. Towering above my small frame he loomed over me. I felt so small and meek. There was a stirring in my panties.