Loading...After the incident, I endeavored to analyze the events that led up to it, concluding that I’d made four mistakes. The first was reporting a leaky water heater to building maintenance, the second forgetting the day and time, they said they would come, and my third calling in to work and reporting sick just so I could take a day off.
I lay in bed until nine, playing with myself and generally feeling horny. Having masturbated to an unsatisfying climax the night before I made my fourth and last mistake.
The feeling had been coming over me for a long time, and I knew this day would come eventually after I received the last item I’d ordered. That was days ago, and I think I knew when I called in sick that I would actually do it. Not that I was about to rush into it. My planning, or procrastination, as the case may be, was meticulous.
For weeks now I used an ‘Epilady’ to remove all leg hair until they were silky smooth, also the underarms, really painful at first, now mildly irritating. With one application of ‘Sally Hanson’ Cream hair remover, the remainder of my body hair around my middle vanished down the drain, and having no hair at all on the rest of my body to speak of I was smooth and clean from the neck down.
Hours of practice in front of the mirror with the make-up kit and an instruction booklet produced the desired look I wanted, until the instructions were no longer necessary.
I carefully placed all the clothes on the bed, each picked carefully for this day. The underwear was all black, except one pair of panties, black being the most exciting and erotic color that came to my mind. The camesette with attached garter strap was a virtually transparent black nylon and lace thing, lightly padded to give a nice shape to the breasts, tight and sheer, while the laces in the front allowing it to be pulled snug and tight around the body.
Two pair of panties, one a skimpy pair of black crotchless panties, sheer nylon and lace, the second pair of so called French cut, all white lace. This one was nothing more than two wide ribbons for a waistband, with a wide strip of lace going down the front, through the crotch and up the rear, flaring slightly to cover my bottom. A pair of sheer, jet black stocking with lace tops lay beside the other things, their color and silky feel arousing to the body and mind, and a short black nylon slip lay out between the underwear and the outer clothes as if dividing the two sets.
For outerwear, I’d picked a short suede mini skirt and a long sleeve, high collar; white silk blouse with peal buttons up at the back. The peal buttons gleamed softly in the overhead light, as if winking invitingly at me. To complete the outfit I’d brought a pair of black high-heels, open toed shoes with a high back and a wide ankle strap. These had large silver ‘D’ rings on each side of the ankle band, and just looking at them brought up imaged of bondage and seduction, making me shiver.
The shoe were the hardest thing to get, and I had to buy three pairs through the mail order catalog before I got the right size and fit. Three other items lay on the bed that started my heart pounding just looking at them. A silver studded black leather collar and matching wrist cuffs that locked when put on and three gold chains, a long one for around my waist and two short one for each ankle.
The make-up case lay open on the dressing table, ready, beckoning; beside it nail polish, perfume, hairbrush, and spray. Everything needed was there, meticulously chosen for this day, all laid out to see at once, instead of each piece as it arrived. Most I did this though catalogs, as some of the items I was too embarrassed to go in and buy, and now they all lay there, ready, waiting for me to put on, except for two things, one as important as the other, myself and courage.
This day was a long time coming as before I’d only worn panties stocking and a bra when I ‘played’, but today I was going to go all the way and dress up complete no matter what the consequences. So why am I standing here looking at all these sexy clothes and trying to work up the courage to put them on? Curiosity I suppose, it had gotten me into trouble ever since I could remember. Why now? That I couldn’t say for sure. I rented a couple of bondage crossdressing videos a few months ago and I couldn’t get the images out of my mind. I even managed to buy a great Bondage and Domination tape, a few months back watching it over and over again until I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
For years, my mild curiosity about sexy or erotic lingerie had turned into a passion. Rejecting all other types of underwear out of hand. The other kind looked and felt terrible, being about a sexy to a man as cold porridge and about as exciting as kissing your dead grandmother. But as I said, today was a long time coming, first because I was living at home, and second because my mother would have gone wild had she seen me wearing anything but ‘normal’ underwear.
However, I knew that as soon as I was on my own I would buy and wear the sexiest lingerie that I could find. The feel of the material they used in them was fantastic, so soft, so erotic to look at, even the colors of girl’s panties was so different from the plane white or solid colors of men’s underwear. Slowly in an unending chain, I forged the links that let me to this point. From convincing my mother that I wanted to live by myself, to finding a nice quiet apartment in another part of the city where no one knew me, then to stop getting my hair cut to the point I had to wear it in a ponytail to work. So all I needed now was the courage to start.
Sex isn’t really taught in school, not real sex, you learn that at first partly by a sort of osmosis from locker room dirty talk, finding out things like, …men do something to big girls, and women, they ‘fucked ‘ them… but had very little idea what that was. One of the problems with dirty talk was that none of us had ever done ‘it’ and really had no idea of what ‘it’ was or how you do ‘it’. The picture of one finger moving back and forth between a circle made of a thumb and forefinger doesn’t really tell you a lot.
Thinking about the way big girls dressed is what started me thinking what it must be like to dress the same way and why it looked and felt so sexy. I knew my mother kept her underwear and other sexy clothes in one special drew in her closet, equating the wearing of sexy underwear as a prelude to sex itself. Steadily, my curiosity got the better of me that draw pulling me like a magnet, first a look, then a touch, until one day when she and my father were at work I decided to see for myself what was in there. I didn’t just go in there and grab them.
My mother, being a careful person always folded her things up before putting them away, so the first thing I did was to open the drew and see how they were arranged, knowing I must return them the same way or she would instantly know I’d been in there. One by one, I took them out and laid them on the bed, noting the way they were folded. At first I was not very impressed, plain cotton one not much different from the ones I was wearing, but as I worked my way down into the draw I started coming up with thin nylon ones in different colors, some blue, some yellow and a few pink and red. Then I hit pay dirt. Lacy black, sheer transparent, in mainly white and black, some no more than a small triangle of cloth in the front and back, all spotlessly clean and faintly smelling of some perfume or another. A tingle of excitement ran through me, thinking what it was like to wear them and what it would look like wearing them.
I knew I dare not take any, knowing my mother would miss them instantly, parents have a sixth sense when it comes to things like that, and being an only child I knew she would know it was me that took them.
Somewhat half-hearted I started putting them back in the same order, finding as I did that the draw seemed to be a bit stuck. Looking in under the shelf something caught my eye, something black that seemed to be jammed between the top part at the back of the draw and the next one up. Carefully working the draw out and placing it on the floor I looked in. There was another pair of panties in the back, black and lacy. Heart pounding I reached in and took them out. Holding them up for examination.
At first, I felt disappointment, sheer black nylon and black lace met my gaze, but they were torn. Shaking the dust off, I laid them on the bed, replacing everything else just as I found them. Sitting on the bed I looked at the pair I’d found again, examining them closely. It was not that they were torn as I first thought, as, upon closer examination, I could see no rips or torn cloth, just neat sewing around each edge, but they had too many holes. I kept turning them around and around, trying to make sense of them. One part was obviously the waist because there was the tag, and that always goes at the back. Suddenly I had an idea.
Quickly checking the room for any evidence of my presents, finding were none, and closing the draw and closet I retreated to my room with the prize, excitement starting to rise. Quickly undressing I held them up one more time. The label told me which was the back and inside, and holding the waist band open placed first one leg then the other through the first and second opening and slowly pulled them up. The waistband came up over my hips and I settled it into pace around my waist, my excitement rising. The panties had been designed that way, without a crotch, the thought shocked and excited me, thinking of the possibilities, but then I heard the front door open and knew my mother was home.
In a panic, I pulled them off and dressed as quickly as possible, looking desperately for a place to hide them, at last picking on a sneaker. It would be the last place my mother would ever look.
That night I played with myself, visions of girls in panties like those flashing through my mind, this must be what they wore to have sex, or did they wear it to get sex? I wasn’t sure and couldn’t really fill in the details. Were their chests like mine, except with bumps? Did it hurt when they grew, or if you touched them? Maybe that’s why they wore a bra, to protect them. I’d only seem a few girls with flat chest, and never having seen a girl nude I had no real idea what they looked like. I also had no idea of what a man actually did to a girl to ‘fuck’ her. Ignorance is bliss, so they say, but to me it was more frustrating not knowing.
At sixteen I got to saw my porno movie, not that I was supposed to, my father having brought it and locked it in his desk, the trouble was I knew of a second key that fitted the lock. He made the mistake of telling me to take the trash out. Dumping it in the trash can, my eye caught the colorful artwork on the cover of the box, and it wasn’t long before I was gazing hungrily at the front cover in the security of my room. Thirty minutes after they were out of the house one evening, and giving them time to arrive at their friend house for dinner. I unlocked the draw and soon had the tape in the machine.
At sixteen I had a pretty fair idea what went on between boy and girl, having done a little of it myself, now hopefully I was going to see it all and complete my education. To tell you the truth I was shocked at some of the things they were doing, unbelievable. I saw girls and boys similar in age to me, some half undressed in the most exciting underwear it was possible to imagine, just looking at them sent chills through me. There were scenes of men undressing and touching girls all over without them complaining. In one scene, a man played with a woman’s pussy. I watched in fascination as the camera moved in close and I got my first real look at a girl’s cunt.
I saw a hand opening it, the middle finger of another hand gradually slip inside with a pumping motion. I couldn’t believe it, the hand gently stroking up and down between the lips sent uncontrollable shivers through me and I could feel I was close to cumming. Then the scene changed and I saw something I would have thought impossible until then. A man stood in a bedroom, telling a young girl how bad she’d been and that he was going to have to punish her.
Taking her dress off I saw she was wearing stocking and a garter belt, seeing the panties were black lace, as was the bra. She wore a gold chain around her waist and ankles, and I learned later that they were called slave chain. I can image why. The girl must have been eighteen to nineteen, with make-up on that my mother would have said the only whore would wear. She stood there a few moments while the man walked over and came back with a chair, which he placed in the middle of the floor. The image of her standing there and the way she was dressed stayed with me a long time, and even today I can remember it in details, only having added a few more here and there over the years.
He pulled her across his knee, telling her what a naughty girl she had been and that she must be spanked as punishment. She begged not to be and I was glad that the man didn’t listen, I wanted to see her get spanked, hoping it would be on her bare bottom, the same way I got spanked by my father a few times. Pulling her panties down, he exposing her bottom and began to spank her, first with his hand, then with a wooden hairbrush, her bottom jumping every time it landed, she cried and cried but he didn’t stop until her bottom was completely red. Next, he stood her up, asking what she was going to do to say she was sorry. The answer was anything he wanted. The man then took his trousers off, then his underpants, telling the girl to kneel down and to suck him off. She did with no argument at all and I finally saw someone getting a ‘blow job’ for the first time. The scene changed just after that, now the girl had gone to the bed, kneeling down on elbows and knees, her legs spread apart. The man climbed on to the bed behind her, stroking her bottom, saying that now she would get the rest of her punishment. He talked while he did this, and for the first time I really took notice of what they were saying.
“You been a bad girl haven’t you.” He said stroking of her bottom, transferring his hand between her legs. “You been a bad little bitch and you needed to be spanked, don’t you?”
“No…Yes.” The girl said, and I heard a note of desperation in her voice as if wanting it to be over.
He roughly jerked her panties down and I got my last shock. It wasn’t a girl at all, it was a… I didn’t know the name then, a girlyboy was the best I could come up with. Reaching down between his legs, he placed the tip of his big tool between the lips of ‘her’ pussy, continued to stroke ‘her’ bottom as he did, the girlyboy starting to pant, then moan and he started spanking her again, hard slaps to ‘her’ red bottom.
I had been spanked before by my father, quite a few times, but nothing like this. When my father spanked me, it hurt. On screen the man had the head of his big cock inside ‘her’ and she squealed, but he didn’t stop.
“That’s it pantyboy, let me hear you squeal!” He moaned pushing harder. ‘She’ did, moaning and begging him to stop, but he didn’t.
“Oh yeah, just what the crossdressing little faggot bitch needs, a hard cock inside her.” He moaned out loud. I almost came myself at that point.
In moments, he had his big tool all the way inside and was now fucking and spanking ‘her’ as he did. I couldn’t help myself. I played with stiff cock and spanking my own bottom at the same time. The harder he spanked her in the movie the more excited I became and the more I spanked myself. Each slap felt and sounded like the hardest spank I had ever had, it was painful yet not painful at the same time, I wanted it to go on and on, but it couldn’t and in the end I came, the last painful slap sending me over the edge. Almost the moment it was over, I stopped the tape, rewinding it and put it back in the draw. Part of it I think was fear of what my father might do if he found out I’d watched it. Now I was in the scary position of dressing like the girlyboy in the video.
It took a while, but in the end, I told myself that I would dress up and stay indoors. If all the curtains were closed, no one could see me, or suspect what I was doing. Later I could change back. The decision made I didn’t rush, wanting to experience each moment to the fullest.
I showered, shampooed my hair slowly over and over again, the scent of the herbal shampoo filling the bathroom with its fragrance. That done the conditioner went on, twice taking time to wash again with the scented soap to allow the condition to do its work. That done I rinsed, dried, and used a female antiperspirant under the arms and between my legs. Time seemed to fly as I blow-dried my hair and between the dryer and a hairbrush had my naturally wavy hair flowing down around my shoulders. Already the feeling of excited was beginning to grow, but held it in check, knowing that if I didn’t I would rush and spoil it, but finger and toe nails were soon trimmed, buffed and painted, the color, bright red. The make-up went on easy, the hours of practice paying off.
I found that by paying strict attention on each detail, eyebrows, eyelashes, eye shadow, eyeliner, and so forth my attention did not take in the overall effect, not wanting to see it until completely dressed.
With the make-up done, holding off the inevitability of getting dressed couldn’t be held off any longer, and standing there looking at the clothes my heart began to pound, air passing in and out in of my lungs in long trembling breaths, even my legs started to shake as I picked up the first item. The long gold chain felt ice cold against my warm skin, but it soon warmed as it lay around my waist on my hips. The shameful crotchless black panties slid up my legs without a hint of a snag, thanks to the ‘Epilady’, and I pulled them up over my hips and settling them in place, feeling wicked. They were snug but not tight, the nylon and lace contrasting with the white skin beneath. My arms went through thin shoulder straps of the camesette, feeling it slithering down my body in a way that sent electric tingles down my spine. I smoothed it into place around my hips with trembling fingers, my mind whirling with pleasure as I draw the laces tight, then tighter, and tighter still, until the two side almost came together, pulling my waist in and emphasizing my hips. The nylon stocking were the real test of the effectiveness of the ‘Epilady’, the silky smooth nylon feeling hot and cold at the same time, didn’t snag at all as I slowly worked them legs, feeling them tighten as they coved my thighs, close and comfortable, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to wear them.
One by one the straps were hooked to the tops of the stockings and adjusted until it felt as if the camesette and the socking were one garment. It felt odd to wear panties, yet not wear them, the missing piece in the crotchless panties, giving me an insecure, vulnerable feeling. It went away as soon as the French cut panties were on and tied in place. The trouble was I was started to get an erection.
That spoiled the look of the panties, so I used a glass of ice-cold water and counting numbers in the kitchen until it went down. Then I was able to smooth the panties into place around my bottom, waist, and crotch without my hands shaking too much. The black nylon slip didn’t help matter, the material sending shivers over my body as I slipped it on. It took me a while and some odd contortions to get all the button on the back of the silk blouse done up, but at last I did it. The mini skirt had to be wiggled into so as not to damage the zipper, finding it was easier to zip it up in front then turn the skirt around than to try and zip it up at the back. Carefully tucking the blouse in I reached up under the skirt to pull it down, puffing it out slightly at the waist. The six remained items on the bed took additional courage to put on the first time. Taking the easiest one first, the two gold chains were placed around each ankle, gleaming softly in the light, their meaning clear. Undoing each cuff I looked at the last items, until finally my trembling fingers closed the leather cuffs around each wrist, hearing the lock click shut as I did.
Quickly I re-buttoned the blouse cuffs, panting slightly as I picked up the leather collar. Could I do it? I wondered. Every Thursday I mailed the keys to the collar and cuffs in the hope I’d have to courage to go through with it this weekend. This was Friday, and the keys wouldn’t arrive until ten o ‘clock on Monday. Which meant the collar and cuff would stay on until then, like it or not. The cuffs I could hide, but not the collar. I hesitated a moment with my eyes shut, working up the nerve, or courage to do it.
Taking a shake breathe I quickly placed the collar around my throat and snapped the lock shut before I could change my mind. It was done and I let out my breath in one long shuddering sigh. I was committed to staying like this the whole weekend now. I calmed myself with a drink of cold water before stepping into my high-heeled shoes and bucked the strap around each ankle. I stood, and for better or worse, I was dressed.
Brushing my hair one last time I walked into the bedroom and stood in front of the full-length mirror on the closet door, again shutting my eyes for the last few steps, not wanting to see myself until I was ready, thinking that it was still possible to change my mind, of course, it wasn’t. Curiosity got the better of me and I opened my eyes.
At first, it felt as if someone had hit me in the stomach and give me an electric shock at the same time, involuntary taking a step back. Whoever stood there looking back, it wasn’t me. Even close, up it wasn’t me. All I saw was a young woman, dressed the way a young women should be dressed, well how she should be dressed if she were a bit of a slut. I had to admit it, even to myself, with the way I was dressed, it was a sure invitation to someone to come and fuck me. But isn’t that what I wanted? I shivered at the thought. The black slip showed plainly through the white blouse, the deep vee in front and invitation to feel.
I spent a glorious three hours in an orgy of self-pleasure, between looking at myself in various stages of undress and re-watching my B & D tape I was in a perpetual state of excitement yet refused to stop by cumming, wanting this feeling to go on as long as possible. In the end, I had to stop, and lay down on the couch to take a rest. What I hadn’t expected was to fall asleep only to wake up wanting more but unable to think what except using my vibrator and dildo, but that would have to wait until late as I found I was hungry. One look in the mirror told me I needed to repair my lipstick. I did, seeing myself in the mirror again I smiled to myself, thinking that I looked like a cross between a tramp and a schoolgirl, but either way I definitely missed demure by a mile, ended up on the total slut side of the makeup chart.
Walking to the kitchen, I put the coffee on to perk, then walked around the apartment tidying up while I waited. Feeling nice and happy, knowing that this was going to be one of those extra special weekends. The smell of fresh-perked coffee draw me back to the kitchen and I grabbed a mug and poured coffee. To my dismay, I found the sugar bowl empty, chiding myself for forgetting to buy some at the store last night.
That spoiled my mood for a moment but then I remembered that I had a small emergency supply of sugar packets stashed at the back of the cupboard over the refrigerator. Grabbing a chair, I hiked my skirt up and leaned over the refrigerator to dig into the cupboard. Standing on a kitchen chair with my head and shoulders deep in the cupboard searching for the sugar was when it happened. Pulling back, I listened, had I heard something. Then I did. The sound of the front door closing as someone walked in.
Then it dawned on me, panic hit me in the stomach like a baseball bat, but all I could do was stand there like a stupid idiot. Last week I’d given building maintenance permission to come into my apartment to fix the leaky water heater, and today was the day they said they would be here. All I could do was stand there on the chair, frozen in place, wondering what on earth I was going to do now. At first he didn’t see me, coming in and closing the door.
There was no way I could run, he’d see me for sure if I dashed to the bedroom, or the bathroom. I prayed he’d go to the bathroom where the water heater was, that way at least I’d have a minute to think. He didn’t, he came straight to the kitchen. Extracting myself from the cupboard I felt my heart sinking through the floor, wondering what would happen next.
“Hi. I’m Bill.” He walked straight into the kitchen, all muscles, white tee shirt, blue jeans, and tool belt. What girls refer to as a hunk. “The building super sent me up to fix the leak in your water heater.” The way he looked me up and down told me he liked what he saw.
He was taller than me by three inches with a dark rugged face and wide mouth and a shadow of a beard. Being two steps short of complete panic I had no idea what to say. I settled for one word.
“Hi.” It was lame, and it came out sounding funny. He looked me over again, slowly this time, half-leaning against the kitchen counter.
“Can I get a cup of coffee?” He asked, insolent eyes moving up and down my legs, a knowing look on his face.
“Yes… Yes… I suppose so.” I stuttered, and started to get down from the chair. I had no idea of what to say, or what to do, or get down off the chair without showing him a lot of stocking covered thigh and panties.
“Here,” he said, walking over. “Let me help you down.”
That was the last thing I wanted, but before I could say anything he walked over and put his large hands around my waist. His strong hands slid up my body as he lowered me to the ground.
“You should be careful Miss. It’s easy to have an accident like that.” He was so close I could smell his after-shave and man smell.
I couldn’t look him in the face, my eyes automatically lowering before his gaze. I wish I hadn’t looked down. Whatever he’d seen was starting to give him a hard on, as the bulge in his pants testified. Petrified, I went through the motions and poured him a cup of coffee, my hands shaking so bad that I could hardly pour the coffee. I heard myself ask him if he wanted cream and sugar.
“No. What I really want is you.”
“What?” I stammered. Not believing I’d heard him correctly.
“What I really want is to fuck you.” He murmured, coming up behind me.
“But… I… you….” I stammered, unable to think of one coherent thing to say. He walked over and slid his arms around my waist, pulling me back against his hard chest.
“Please don’t!” I begged. “I can’t..”
“Why not. You want it, I can tell.” He thrust his bulging cock against my bottom. Hard and demanding.
“I… I…. I don’t.” Desperately I looked for a way out. Anything, something, but there wasn’t any.
“You’re a lying little bitch aren’t you.” He growled, low in his throat. “Dressed up like a cheap fucking whore!” Grabbing my hair he pulled my head back and kissed me full on the mouth. At the same time he turned me around and pulled me to him, again thrusting his cock against my groin.
At this point I thought of screaming, then dismissed it. That wouldn’t help, it would only make matters worse. Now his hands were all over my body, squeezing my bottom, and rubbing the outside of my thighs. On the verge of tears I finally managed to pull back from his lips.
“Please don’t. Please stop.”
“Why? You know you want to be fucked, so why fight it.”
“I’ll scream if you don’t stop!” It was a stupid thing to say. I tried to look him in the face again, but couldn’t. I can’t say that I blamed him, dressed the way I was I could see where I’d get the idea I wanted to be fucked. In one way it did, but by my imaginary lover, not him.
“So go ahead and scream.” His voice was totally insolent, daring me. I couldn’t. No matter how much I told myself I should, I couldn’t do it.
“So why don’t you go ahead and scream.” He said taking a step back.
“I can’t.”
“Why not.”
“Because.”
“I know why.” He grinned.
“What?”
“Do I have to explain?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes you do. You can either go ahead and scream, and live with the consequences, or you can take the fucking skirt and blouse off right now.”
“But…”
“Look. Let’s stop playing around. This isn’t the first time I’ve been to this apartment. I’ve also seen a few of the video tapes.”
I went bright red and felt like dying at that moment. He knew. I don’t know how, but he knew. If he’d been here before, he’d probably gone through my things. The taped I’d made of myself dressed would have told him the rest.
“Either scream or do what you are told, bitch!”
I didn’t need to be told what the consequences would be if I screamed. Someone would come and investigate and it would all be over. Having to move would be the least of it. Slowly I reached up and unbuttoned my blouse. Sliding it off my shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Next I undid the skirt and let it drop. There was no way I could look him in the face. I found out later it was one of the things that drove him crazy. As I did, he undid his tool belt and put it on the counter.
“Bedroom.” He said.
Not having to explain what he meant. He followed me as I slowly walked though the apartment and into the bedroom, cursing and shivering at the slight metallic sound the wrist cuffs made as I walked, wishing now that I hadn’t locked them on. Coming in behind me, he closed and locked the door, loud to my hyper sensitive ears.
“We don’t want to be disturbed now do we.” I could only shake my head in answer.
“Now we can get down to some good fucking and sucking without interruption.” That made me look up. Shaking my head.
“No. Please no!”
“Get your ass over here and down on your fucking knees, bitch.” He said unzipping his pants and taking them off. Next the tee shirt, exposing his hairy chest. He obviously exercised a lot and probably lifted weights by the way he was built.
“That’s where a girlyboy cunt like you belongs, on her… his knees.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. I could only stand there and shake my head, my mind a total blank.
“So you want it the hard way, do you. That’s all right with me, I like it that way.” Walking over he grabbed my arm, and sitting down on the edge of the bed proceeded to haul me across his lap.
‘Oh my God! He’s going to spank me’ I thought, and he did.
With one strong arm holding my arms twisted behind my back to hold me in place he began to spank my bottom, first one cheek, then the other. I started struggling then, begging him to stop. I put my other hand back to try and protect my bottom, but he grabbed it and twisted it up behind me back as well, taking time to hook the wrist cuffs together. Now I was completely at his mercy, not that he had any as for two minuets he kept it up, one cheek, then the other. By that time my bottom was burning, hot shameful tears running down my face, but I hadn’t screamed. I was now torn between two opposites, to run and hide somewhere, the other to give in. The burning pain in my bottom convinced me of which way to go.
“Please stop. I’ll do whatever you want.” I sobbed at last and he stopped.
“You going to give me any more shit?”
“No.” I sobbed.
“All right them, get down on your fucking knee where you belong and start on this.” Pushing me to the floor he stood and pulled his underpants down. His rock hard cock stood straight out from a mat of dark brown hair.
Without ceremony he grabbed my hair, forcing my jaw open and slid his cock between my lips. I’d never sucked cock before and had no idea what to do. Pulling his cock out, he slapped my across the face.
“I said suck it, bitch, suck it hard!”
Then he told me. Step by step, instructing me in the finer points of cock sucking, slowly forcing it deeper and deeper into my mouth. There was no way I could take all nine inches of his cock, or so I thought.
“You going to need some training, but I’m sure that in a few weeks you’ll be able to take all of it. For a beginner you’re doing a good job. Just keep sucking like that, it feels good.” Suddenly I knew he meant to make me his sex slave. Seeing the terrifying prospect of spending my spare time on my hands and knees servicing this man’s sexual appetite. I jerked back, appalled at the idea.
“NO! Please. Don’t,” I begged.
“Don’t? Don’t what? Fuck your mouth anymore?” He said, laughing. “All right then. I’ll fuck your ass.” It wasn’t what I meant, but he didn’t care. With that he grabbed my arms, and with a little additional pressure turned me round and forced my head to the floor.
“Stay there bitch or I’ll spank you again.” Just for luck he spanked me four times, two on each cheek. I yelled and tried to pull away. “You do that again and I’ll tie you up and beat you with my belt.” He jerked my slip up out of the way and forced my legs open.
“No. No. No. Please stop.”
“No way bitch. I’m going to fuck you.” With that he got down behind me, fondling my bottom, running his hands between my legs.
“Spread your legs.’ He forced my arm up higher. “Wide open!” I couldn’t do anything else but obey him, slowly opening my legs as far as they’d go.
“That’s nice. Very nice.” Gently, he pulled the end of the ribbon, undoing each carefully tied bow. I felt my panties drop, my last line of defense falling away.
“Now that is very nice, very nice indeed.”
From the corner of my eye I could see what he was looking at, and suddenly I felt ashamed. My panty-clad bottom was high in the air, the crotchless panties forming a beautiful Vee shape around the crack of my bottom. I cursed myself for hours afterwards for leaving that large jar of Vaseline on the dresser, the one I used to lube my dildo. Afterwards admitting that if I hadn’t the experience might have been a lot more painful than it was. His greased thumb did the honor of lubricating my ass, feeling it pop in and out as he loaded it up, but the moment his cock touched my ring I tried to get away. He was ready for that, grabbing me by the hips to hold me in place while he rammed the head in. With a blinding stab of pain he took my virginity. He quickly drove it in to the hilt and I felt the hair at the base of his cock rubbing against my sore bottom.
“Oh God no!!!!” I groaned, gasping in pain, bright flashes of humiliation stabbing through me. How many times I’d played with myself thinking of just something like this, and now it was happening.
“Damn! You’re nice tight bitch. Just the way I like it. Now you’re going to get the fucking you’ve been asking for.” He fucked me then, driving his cock in and out with long powerful strokes.
“Holy shit! This is almost perfect. Just push your ass back and forth a little honey.” He ordered. I couldn’t, I was paralyzed. Shame, humiliation, and pain froze me into position. I prayed that it would be over soon and he would go, but he wasn’t finished yet.
“Damn it bitch move!” He yelled, starting to spank me again. I held out as long as I could, finally giving in when it dawned on me that he liked to spank. In desperation and drove my bottom back and forth, timing it so I was going in the opposite direction to him.
“Hot damn! Now the little fag bitch is getting it.” That was my last mistake. The more I moved the more my ass relaxed. Then my body betrayed me. It started to feel good, very good, even better than my dildo.
I couldn’t stop myself. Suddenly I found myself driving my bottom back and forth on his great big beautiful cock and liking it. Sobbing and crying in shame at how easy he’d turned me into a cock sucking bitchboy. I heard myself groaned with pleasure as he ran his hands between my legs, wanting more.
“Now the cock sucking little whore likes it, don’t you?”
“No. No… Yes. Yesssss.” I wailed.
“You want me to spank you?”
“Oh fuck… yes… yes! Please spank me, spank me hard. I’ve been a bad girl and I need to be punished.” I gasped, remembering the girlyboy from the video.
“That’s right, now the crossdressing little sissy cunt wants spanking and butt fucking now, doesn’t she?” He panted.
“Yesssss.” I moaned in shame. I did.
And he did. First one side, them the other, each time harder than the last. It felt as good as I remembered when I’d spanked myself watching the porno movie so lon ago, so good I didn’t want it to stop. After what seemed like an eternity I felt him stiffen, ramming his cock all the way in, holding my hips in his strong hand while he shot his load of hot cum deep inside me, feeling a wave of shame wash over me. His cock pulse as each jet of cream shot into me and I shuddered in pleasure. After that, he held it there, sighing with contentment, before unhooking the cuffs before pulling his cock out and flopping down on my bed. I knelt there, hot tears running down my face, my butt sore from the fucking, and yet felling contented, a part of the feeling of shame and humiliation.
“Put your little whore panties back on and go get me a cup of coffee, cream, and sugar bitch.” Slowly I climbed to my feet, sobbing softly to myself as I saw him wipe his cock on my clean sheets.
The rotten bastard had raped me, and I’d let him. I didn’t know what else to do, so I went to the kitchen and made him a cup of coffee, feeling his cum running down the inside of my leg as I brought it back to him. He lay there on the bed, smoking a cigarette and grinning as I walked in. “That’s a good little whore. You do what I tell you and we’ll get on great.” He took the coffee, sipping it slowly. “Guess that was the first time you were butt fucked, huh?” He asked, giving me a nasty grin as I nodded.
“Thought so, but you’ll get use to it. Now get the slip off, I want to see your slutty underwear.”
Taking it off, I stood by the window, feeling sorry for myself, wondering what to do. It felt humiliating standing there in my underwear, knowing he was looking at me. He finished the coffee, and dropped the butt end into the cup, then stood up and walked over to me.
“I’m surprised, a good looking little cunt like you should be well fucked by now.” I shivered as he ran his hand over my sore bottom, blushing as I remembered telling him to spank me. His hand traveled round to the front, squeezing my tits.
“Need to get you some bigger tits for me to play with.”
“What?” I froze when he said that.
“Got to get you on them bitch hormones I hear tell about and grow you some real titties for me to play with.”
“But I don’t…”
“I don’t give a shit what you want, cunt, you’ll do as I tell you, or else.”
“Or else?”
“Yeah, I have me some of those tapes you like to make, I’m sure your boss and your parents would love to see what a cock sucking little faggot pervert you really are.”
“Oh God no! Please, don’t do that.”
“Yeah, a cock sucking little pervert that love to fuck herself with a big black dildo.”
“Oh God!”
“Guess you’d like a great big black cock rammed into your ass, wouldn’t you, or down your throat.”
“No, please.”
“Got a friend here that would love to fuck a nice little white fuck toy like you.” I just shook my head, unable to speak. “He’s hung like a horse and would love to get those pretty pink lips of yours wrapped around the shaft as you deep throat his big black cock.” As he spoke his cock got hard, and he started rubbing it against my ass, then slipped it between my legs. Grabbing my by the back of the neck, he forced my head down, then pulled my panties down.
His cock slid between the cheeks of my ass, still slick from the Vaseline and his cum. He positioned it at the entrance, and with a quick hard thrust rammed the head inside.
“Oh god, no… Please!!!” I almost screamed, but the pain wasn’t so bad this time.
“Oh god yes!!” He muttered, ramming it inside me as hard as he could.
I groaned and held onto the window ledge, seeing two people walk passed in the parking lot below. What if they looking up and saw me like this? They’d know, they see me dressed like a whore. I sobbed as he grabbed my hips and began fucking me again. Hard brutal thrust, ramming it in all the way to the hilt each time.
“Oh yeah! What a filthy little cunt you are!” He panted. “Need to get your ass out onto the street where you belong, bitch.”
“Please, no!”
“Shut the fuck up, cunt… need to train you right first, then pimp you out.” The thought was appalling, would he dare do that to me?
I sobbed as he started spanking me again. It felt so good, his cock ramming into me made me shiver, hearing him grunt and moan in pleasure. I hated it and loved it at the same time, a real cock feeling so much better than a dildo. I couldn’t help myself and started pushing back, wiggling my butt and acting like a cock-starved slut.
“Oh yes, the little cunt mouth whore likes it now.” Without warning he stopped and jerked his cock out, grabbing my hair and turned me round. The next second I was on my knees and he was thrusting his cock into my mouth.
“That’s it, open wide,” he growled, “let me see those pretty pink lips wrapped around my dick.”
This time he didn’t stop, but held onto my head tight and began fucking my mouth. Even when it hit the back of my throat and I gagged he didn’t stop.
“Oh yes! Let’s get all of it in this time.”
I whined, and sobbed, tears running down my face. My hands beating on his thighs as I tried to push him away, but it was no use. He gradually fucked his way into my mouth and down my throat until he had all eight inches inside. I squealed around his cock, gagging and coughing each time he pulled back, feeling it slide back and forth between my pink lips, the hair at the base of his cock tickling my nose each time he drove it all the way into my mouth.
“Oh yes! The little bitch whore had a face full of man meat now, just like she should!” His hips started backing back and forth, driving his hard cock all the way in and out.
“Yeah, this is all you are good for, servicing a real man’s cock, you worthless little cum sucking bitch.”
Saying that he rammed his cock all the way in and held it there, shooting hot cum down my throat. I felt his cock swell, the head filling my throat as cum shot out, thinking he was going to choke me. He was right, that’s what I was now. A cock sucking, cum drinking little faggot. A cross dressing sissy bitch fairy. I was dressed like a whore, and being used like one.
He left me lying on the floor, spent, feeling ashamed yet not totally. I realized that the shame wasn’t because of what he’d done, only partly, the shame was because I’d enjoyed it. My mouth tasted of his cock and cum, my butt sore from the spanking and fucking, but it felt wonderful shameful. He dressed then, humming to himself as he buckled his tool belt around his waist. I hear him say something about needing some parts for the heater and that he’d be back tonight to fix it. Then, just before he closed the door I heard him say.
“And you had better be dressed and ready faggot. Or else!”
An hour later, after a hot shower, I lay down to take a nap and hide under the covers to escape, even if it was only for a little while, but as I did the phone rang.
“Yes.”
“Hi. This is the building maintenance supervisor. My man tells me that your heater is going to take a lot of fixing.”
“Oh. I see.” He didn’t know the half of it.
“He told me that he’d made arrangements with you for him to come by late afternoons to do the work. Is that all right?”
“I… I… I suppose so.” I stammered.
I had visions of myself kneeling on the floor by the front door waiting for him. Dressed like a whore and just begging to be fucked. He would take me any way he wanted, spanking me or beating me with his belt as he pleased. I knew I was going to do it no matter what. The feeling of his cock ramming in and out of me was irresistible. Even now I wanted him to come back. Wanting to feel his wonderful cock between my pink lips as I sucked his cock, to feel him put me across his knee, pull down my panties and spank me like a bad girl. Most of all I wanted him to force me kneel down like a little cross-dressing sissy faggot whore, make me put my ass it in air and…
“Are you still there?”
“Yes. Yes I am.”
“Is it all right with you then?”
“Yes. Yes it is. There’s a few more things in this apartment that need fixing.” I almost giggled as I said it. “I hope that’s alright with you.”
“No problem. “I’m sure our man can take care of you. Have a nice day.” He hung up.
“Oh yes, I’m sure your man can take care of me, willing or unwilling.” I muttered to a dead phone.
THE END