Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => Recent Inactive Sissy Stories => Topic started by: Simonssister on March 21, 2021, 10:35:26 AM
-
Chapter 1. Danny
Cynthia Brett-Hawkins thought for a moment she was going to choke. The vision that had just entered her office had temporarily halted her breathing, and she had to gasp for air. She felt her face overtaken by a sudden hot flush. She gulped, and there was a instant’s hesitation before she was able to say,
“Thank you, er…”
“Danny.”
“Thank you, er…Danny. Could you just put them on the filing cabinet, please?”
Danny did as he was bid, and went to leave. Cynthia was beginning to recover.
“I haven’t seen you before, have I…?”
“No. I’m new.” He hesitated. “I guess I’ll be bringing you your mail, now. I’ve been allocated the fourth floor.”
She looked him up and down. The sight of him suggested a big teddy bear. A mass of unkempt blond curls, a broad, smiling face with a retroussé nose – and a few spots – he can’t have been more than nineteen – a strong body, and, (though she was careful not to stare), a significant bulge in the front of his jeans.
“That’s great. We’ll be seeing each other then, I guess…”
“Sure. It’ll be a pleasure to serve you.” He smiled and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
“Jayne? Did you hear that?” she gasped.
Her colleague was convulsed with laughter.
“You should see yourself, Cynthia. You’re bright red! He knew, you realise that?”
“I couldn’t help it! He’s fuc-king gorgeous!”
“Now, now. I didn’t take you for a baby-snatcher.”
“But that’s some baby….”
Cynthia and Jayne shared an office. Cynthia was in her late twenties. She was the Brett in the Brett-Hawkins, her husband having been consigned to the secondary position. She’d had some bad experiences when she was a teenager, and four years ago she married Paul as being a safe and non-threatening option. A stupid mistake, she had soon realised. Paul, though pathetically eager to please in bed, was not the best-endowed male she’d ever met, and moreover had definite submissive tendencies. But she’d made the most of it. Over the last year she’d made some radical changes to their sexual relationship. In private, Paul had been totally emasculated. They no longer had sex in the ordinary way. His little pen-is had been replaced by a range of dil-dos, and his duties now consisted of manipulating these or using his mouth. He was service on demand. His satisfaction was limited to masturbating – when allowed. And as confirmation of his new role, she had entertained herself by occasionally dressing him as a girl, and addressing him as Pauline. His feminisation was an ongoing process, and she passed away her leisure by dreaming up new and suitably humiliating outfits for him to wear. At the moment this was all a well-kept secret, but once or twice she’d been on the verge of dropping hints to one or other of her girlfriends, and only just managed to stop herself in time. But she’d made sure to amass quite a collection of pictures and videos of little Pauline – and as long as she kept these under wraps, their existence was more than enough to ensure he would stay compliant. She loved to tease him with them. She smiled as she remembered the fun she had had the previous evening. She had pulled up a recent video of her husband clad in a pretty pale pink maid’s uniform, with white hold-ups and frilly white panties peeping out from under the short, crinolined skirt.
“Darling? This is such a sweet clip! Look how you’re trying to hide your panties….so cute! I think I’ll just have to send it to Vicky. I know she’d love it!”
“No…Cynthia…please don’t…” he whined.
“But you look so…hot. Are you afraid she’d laugh at you? I don’t think so. She’s such a little pervert. Knowing her, it’s more likely it would make her want to fuc-k you. Don’t you think?”
“No! Don’t be silly! You know just what’d happen! It’d be round all her friends in no time. Then they’d all know…about us. So just stop it, all right?”
“Well, I’ll think about it. But it would be such fun.” She had paused. “Well, if you don’t want to play that game, you’d better carry on with your duties,” she had said, removing her panties and lying back on the bed with her legs apart. “Come on. Let’s see how far you can get your tongue inside me tonight. Then later, if you’re good, I’ll let you wear your dil-do gag.”
It had been quite an enjoyable evening – for her, at least. But she had to keep inventing new humiliations for him, otherwise it could become a little boring. And she had to confess that sometimes she just craved a lovely big, hard coc-k. She flushed again, at the recollection of the new post boy. She allowed herself to fantasize….
“What are you thinking about, Cynth?” said Jayne, with a knowing smirk. “I think I can guess. What’s up with you these days? Paul not coming up with the goods?”
Cynthia recovered herself. “No, it’s not that. He does everything I tell him.”
“You want a bit of variety, don’t you? I know. I can see the signs. I often feel like that myself. Not that I don’t love Mike. It’s just…you know. You get fed up with the same old thing every night.”
Jayne was a few years younger than Cynthia, and she had quite a dishy boyfriend.
“Maybe we should swap occasionally,” she said, cheekily.
“You keep your hands off my man,” laughed Jayne. “He’s mine for the time being. Tell you what, you can have him when I’ve finished with him.”
For the rest of the day, Cynthia struggled to keep her mind on her work. She was just beginning to forget about Danny when there was a knock and he came in again.
“Sorry to trouble you…” he said, sheepishly. “Just wondered if you know where I can find” – he looked at a piece of paper he was holding – “a mister Roberts?”
“Er, Roberts? No, sorry, Danny. No-one of this floor by that name. Is it for general admin? Let me see…”
She rose and went to take the paper, but Danny immediately folded it up and retreated.
“No, don’t worry. It’s fine. I’ll find him…”
“Okay…as you like…”
Danny left, and she resumed her seat.
“Ooh,” said Jayne, “I think that was just an excuse, Cynth. I think he likes you…”
“No, don’t be silly,” she returned. But her heart was beating faster now. For she had caught a glimpse of the paper, and seen enough to realise it was nothing but one of the flyers the firm handed out in hundreds to their retailers!
-
Chapter 2. Relief.
Danny’s second visit only compounded Cynthia’s arousal. When Jayne left the room for a minute, she felt compelled to ring Paul and issue some instructions.
“Hello?”
“It’s me.”
“Oh, how’s your day going? I was just…”
“Paul? Be quiet and listen to me. Listen carefully. When I get home I want you in your ballet outfit… No, cancel that. Put on your pink blouse and those red latex hot pants I got you, with some white socks and your red trainers.”
“Why…?”
“Sports training for you, sweetie. You’re going to need all the stamina you can get – so no wanking, okay?”
“Yeah, but…”
“And put the plastic fitted sheet on the bed, and charge up two nice big dil-dos. Oh, and don’t forget your lip gloss. You know I like the feeling. Might as well be red. Match your pants. Well, what do you say?”
“Yes, Cynthia. Thank you, Cynthia.”
“Good. And be prepared for some hard work. I need satisfaction. I need it badly. So if you don’t think you’re up to it, you might as well get the riding whip out right now.”
“Yes…I mean no…I’ll be up to it, my love. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not the one who needs to worry. I’ll be back about six. Be ready.”
Jayne returned just as she was finishing her conversation.
“What’s he got to be ready for? Paul, right?”
“Yes, Paul. Believe me, darling, he needs to be ready for anything when I’m around!”
“So it’s true, what you said? He really does…how can I put it…minister to your every need?”
“Well not every need. But the ones he’s able to, yeah.”
“You should lend him to me sometime. You know, when Mike’s away…”
“Oh….maybe I will!”
“If you didn’t mind…”
“Darling, it would be a pleasure! He’s well trained. I can guarantee his complete obedience. You’d have to promise not to be soft on him, though. I wouldn’t want him getting lazy.”
“No chance of that, let me tell you!”
And they both curled up in giggles.
Paul was quite ready when she got home. The bed was prepared, and he was kneeling at the foot of it, the sex toys arranged next to him on a little plastic tray. He looked sweet in his little shiny hot pants, and she could see he already had a nice firm erection. She bent down and thoughtfully adjusted his pen-is, sliding it around under the taut rubber until it was lying vertical, flat against his tummy.
“There, that looks better. Now I’m just going to have a shower, and then you can get to work.”
After her shower, Cynthia returned to the bedroom and, with a sigh of anticipation, lay down luxuriously on the bed. Paul needed no second bidding to commence his duties. Cynthia felt his warm, smooth lips connect with her moist pussy, and soon his tongue was deep inside her, the tip of his nose pressing against her clitoris. She moaned quietly and opened her legs a little wider. She could feel her juices flowing freely now, and her husband lapping them up greedily. But her mind was elsewhere. In her imagination she was sitting next to Danny on the sofa. He had his arm around her, and she was unzipping his jeans. His pen-is emerged slowly from within, swelling and stiffening until it stood proud and throbbing before her. She took it gently in her hand, feeling its firmness and its heat, but it was too large for her to close her fingers around the shaft. She gave it a little squeeze, making a flow of juice issue from its glistening head, and trickle down over the back of her hand. Danny groaned. In a moment she had leant over and taken it in her mouth, scooping the fluids off it with her tongue and swallowing them. She felt his hand caress the back of her neck, and then he held her head between both hands and began slowly to move it up and down…
But her fantasy was interrupted by an explosive orgasm. She cried out. “Oh…GOD!” Even Paul was surprised at the violence of her climax.
“Darling…are you all right?”
“Don’t stop, idiot! Oh, no, no no…. That’s it…yes, harder, please…yes…”
Eventually she relapsed into a state of semi-consciousness. But there was a smile on her lips. Paul sat back on his haunches. He hadn’t even started with the dil-dos. Wow, he thought, my technique must be improving. He looked sideways at himself in the wardrobe mirror. His cheeks were glistening with his wife’s sticky secretions. His pants were slippery with his own juices, and he was longing to be able to c-um – but he knew he dare not do that without permission. Nevertheless, he was feeling quite proud of himself. He was about to rise to his feet when he was addressed in a drowsy voice.
“Stay where you are, Paulie. I want five minutes to recover. Then you can get started with the dil-dos.”
-
Chapter 3. Quid Pro Quo.
It was nearly ten when Cynthia at last allowed Paul some rest.
“Ah… That’s better. Well done, dear. I quite enjoyed that. Now…what about you?”
“Please, darling, could I…?”
“You want to c-um, I suppose. Well, all right, then. But remember to use a condom, won’t you? We don’t want you wasting any, do we?”
Cynthia made sure Paul never wasted any of his precious sperm. She insisted he harvest every drop. It was then stored in the freezer, and when there was a sufficient quantity, she would use it to make sweet, tasty desserts for him. It had originally been a punishment for masturbating without permission, but it seemed to her that he was developing a taste for it, which she found amusing. And she even had a vague hope that it might awaken his latent gayness, whose existence she had never doubted.
“No, Cynthia. Can I look at my videos while I…?”
Cynthia looked thoughtful for a moment. “No. Not tonight. I’ve got a better idea. Go put on a condom, and come and stand by the bed.”
Paul experienced a sudden access of hope. Was she actually going to…wank him off? Normally he was expected to provide his own relief, aided by videos or pictures he’d downloaded from the internet. He quickly took a condom from the box in the bedroom drawer, ripped open the packet, and, sliding down his hot pants, rolled it onto his tumescent pen-is.
“Good boy. Now pop it back into your pants, and pull them up.”
Oh. So she’s going to do it through my pants. Well, better than nothing, I suppose. He did as he had been told, and went back and stood beside the bed. Cynthia was lying on her back, propped up against the pillow, looking at him with an amused expression on her face.
“You do look cute in those, you know, Paulie? I think I’m going to get you another pair, but with straps, like real girls’ hot pants. You can wear them to Tanya’s party next month. Would you like that?”
This was not what he wanted to hear. His arousal began to subside. He frowned, and shook his head like a frightened kid. She loved teasing him like this. He was so paranoid she was going to out him to all her girlfriends. Moreover she knew he fancied Tanya, though he didn’t know she knew. She could tell by the way he tried to behave all macho when she was around. Tanya would have creased up if she had found out the truth. He was so delightfully easy to manipulate.
“Well, would you?”
“No,” sulkily.
“I think you would. I know you. You’re just a little show-off really, aren’t you? Imagine Tanya’s face when she saw your fat little sausage straining at the latex! I bet she wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off it.”
“Don’t be silly!” he shouted, angrily.
“Well, one day we’ll find out, I’m sure. But I’m getting you those hotpants anyway. I like the way those ones look on you.”
There was a pause.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing. Just stand there. Tonight I’m going to make up a story, and you have to see how long you listen to it without touching yourself. Okay?”
Disappointed, he wrinkled his brow, but didn’t reply.
“Good. Then I’ll begin.”
And she began to retell her fantasy of that evening – and embellish it – like a piece of fiction. Which of course it was, for surely none of it would ever be realised. Would it? She even used the name Danny, which was somehow exciting, and moved on from the scene which had brought her to her first orgasm, into the most perverted an exotic developments she could think of. She recounted her tale with such passion and attention to detail, that soon Paul was listening open-mouthed. A minute or so later, he began kneading his erect member with such eagerness, that it was clear to Cynthia he wasn’t going to last very long. And when she introduced Paul himself into the story, as the devoted slave-maid whose job it was to lick and suc-k Danny into erection preparatory for entry into his mistress’s pussy, his reaction was spectacular. He seemed to choke, his eyeballs drifted up under his eyelids, and he came violently, gasping and jerking, and finally sank to his knees.
“Goodness, Paul, I didn’t realise you were going to enjoy my story quite that much!”
“I…I…oh…I don’t know why….”
“Was it the idea of having to take that big, juicy prick in your mouth…?”
“No! Course not!”
“Hmm…interesting…”
“Well, I’m going to clean up,” he said. He rose, embarrassed, and headed towards the door.
“Don’t forget to put your condom in the box in the freezer…”
“Course not!” he replied, irritated and a bit confused. He went out and closed the bedroom door.
“Well, well,” mused Cynthia, smiling an enigmatic smile.
-
Chapter 4. Exhibitionism.
That night, despite the eminently satisfactory indulgences of the evening, Cynthia slept badly, disturbed by turbulent dreams. She was on a wild, rocky sea shore. The clouds were low, moving fast. She was not sure whether it was just the clouds, or whether it was evening. A storm was approaching, and the tide was coming in, beginning to lap around her shoes. Far out to see she could see a huge wave building. She knew she had to escape. Looking up she saw the cliffs were not high, and over the edge she could see the top of a lighthouse sticking up – probably disused, since there was no light visible. She clambered up the rocks. The sharp edges seemed to be catching on her clothes, shredding the voluminous dress, like a wedding-dress, she was wearing. By the time she gained the top, she was in her underwear. But there was the lighthouse. She ran towards it. There was something strange; there was no door, but instead there was a circular flight of stairs around it, like a helter-skelter. She began to ascend. For some reason she had a strong sense of guilt – she couldn’t tell why – and it was somehow preventing her making progress; every time she came round to the seaward side again, she didn’t seem to have ascended any higher. After struggling for some time against the wind, she felt the first drops of rain beginning to fall. Soon it became heavy, and then a deluge. Looking up, she could see great swathes of foaming water pouring down the sides of the lighthouse. In a moment she was inundated. But the water which was running down her body was warm and sluggish, and the feeling of it sliding over her breasts and belly was pleasant, almost exciting…
She awoke, sweating and moist between her legs. She blinked, looked around. “What the hell was all that about…?” she muttered to herself. Paul was still sleeping, curled up in his sleeping bag at the end of the bed, tethered to the wall just as she had left him. At one time he had shared her bed, but now, apart from the occasional treat, he slept there. She had fitted a ring plate to the skirting board, and bought him a locking collar and chain. She liked the feeling of keeping him like a pet. Sometimes she made him eat from a dog dish right there. She had even thought of having a kennel made for him, and making him sleep in the garden in the summer. She must get round to that, she thought. That would make the neighbours sit up and take notice!
It was already after seven. She climbed out of bed and headed off to the shower. My god, she felt randy that morning! As she showered, she made a decision. She was going to go for it. She would make that cute Danny take notice, all right. After she had unlocked Paul, and he had gone to get ready for his work, she went into her personal dressing-room, which was off the bedroom. She thought for a while, flicking through various outfits. Then she had an idea. Somewhere, she had what used to be called a “peephole” bra – that is, the points of the cups had been replaced by apertures, allowing the nipples to stick out. She had quite prominent nipples, and she could see no reason why Danny should not get the benefit. She finally found it at the back of her underwear drawer. It still fitted nicely. Just looking at herself in the mirror was enough to make her nipples swell with excitement. To wear over it she selected a snugly-fitting red silk blouse. She slipped it on – it was deliciously cool and light – and buttoned it up. She actually blushed to see herself. She knew she was being rather daring…perhaps tarty would have been a better word. But she reckoned she could carry it off. She looked a few years younger than her actual age, and she wore her hair in a semi-afro, which added to the impression of youth. As to the nipples, she had a plan. Over it she was going to wear a rather demure, heavy, knitted grey cardigan. That would disguise the blouse entirely, until she cared to slip it off or unbutton it. She decided on a grey pencil skirt, black stockings and suspenders, and red ankle boots. She was about to slip on her panties, when she was overtaken by another wave of arousal, and she replaced them in the drawer. Why not? she thought. You never know – I might get lucky. She knew she was behaving stupidly. She knew it was madness. But she was driven but a desperate need, an irresistible sexual longing. She put on her silver earrings in the form of the female symbol and the matching necklace, and applied a liberal cloud of her most exotic perfume. Dropping the bottle in her handbag, she picked up her coat and prepared to leave.
“You’re off early, darling…”
“Got some stuff to catch up on. See you later. Have a good day.”
“Shall we go out for a meal tonight?”
“Of course. Don’t be late home.”
They usually went out Friday night, occasionally with friends. They both enjoyed it. There was a different dynamic then. They felt more like friends than partners, how it had been before they married, when Paul was blissfully innocent of her dominant tendencies, and they could talk as equals about all sorts of things. Perhaps they should have stayed just friends…
When Jayne arrived, Cynthia was already at her desk, clacking away at the computer.
“Hi, Cynth. You’re early…”
“Hi, Jayne. Yeah. Thought I’d catch up a bit.”
“You look nice today. Are you going to take that cardy off? It rather spoils the effect.”
“Maybe later.”
“What’s up? You look a bit flushed.” Realisation began to dawn on Jayne’s face. “It’s not…not that guy…?”
“Of course not!” she snapped back.
“It is! I can tell! Cynthia! You bad, bad girl!” She started laughing.
“Well, if it is, so what? It’s all right for you! You’re still a youngster. I’m…”
“You’re what? You’re six years older than me, that’s all! We’re the same fuc-king generation! Don’t get up on your high horse. I’m not criticising you, silly. I don’t blame you. He’s really dishy. I might be jealous, but that’s a different thing altogether.”
Cynthia sighed. “I’m sorry, Jayne. I didn’t mean to be a cow. I’m just in such a state, I don’t know why. Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing. Look at this!”
She unbuttoned her cardigan and stood up. The red silk was taut over her breasts, the nipples jutting out like two little pointing fingers. “See?”
Jayne’s mouth fell open. For a few moments she was speechless. “My god! Are you actually going to let him see you like that? He’ll have a fuc-king heart attack!”
“I do hope not, Jayne. That’s not part of the plan.”
“Quick, get that cardy on again. That dic-k Dave from accounts is on his way. If he sees you like that…..!”
-
Chapter 5. Jayne to the Rescue.
Cynthia could hardly concentrate on her work that morning. She kept turning her head to check whether Danny was on his way. Perhaps he wouldn’t come today! Then it would all have been for nothing.
“Relax, darling,” said Jayne, “I’ve got a perfect view of the lift from here. I’ll let you know when he appears.”
“If he appears…”
“Oh, he’ll be here, don’t worry, she smiled. “Even if he doesn’t have any mail for us.”
He was late, and Cynthia was in agonies, but eventually Jayne announced, “He’s here. Cardy off, please.”
Cynthia felt her cheeks burning. How she wished she’d put on her panties that morning! She tried to pull herself together, but it seemed Danny had decided to visit them first. He knocked, and waited for Jayne to beckon him in.
“Good morning, Danny,” Jayne cried effusively. “What have you got for us today? Something nice, I hope…”
“Er, good morning… There’s just a couple of let….”
But Cynthia had stood up. She advanced on him, with her hand out to accept the mail. His eyes were riveted on her breasts. Cynthia could feel her nipples, hard and tingling, pressing against the silk. He just stood there, mouth open, goggling at her. Jayne was convulsed with silent mirth. Eventually he found his voice.
“I…I…th-think th-there may be something else. I…I’m not sure. I’ll check, and if…I’ll bring them, I mean it, around…”
He thrust the post into Cynthia’s hand and rushed out. Cynthia stood there, horrified.
“I’ve frightened him off, Jayne. What an idiot! What a fuc-king idiot!”
“No you haven’t, silly. He’ll be back. Wait and see. Did you see his face? Classic!”
Jayne was right, of course. Ten minutes later he was back, stammering more than before.
“I’m sorry, I-I thought there was…something, but I-I was wrong, there isn’t…something. B-but I was wondering…” He was clearly trying to think up some excuse for prolonging his presence. Jayne was enjoying every second.
“Yes?” she said, invitingly.
“Er, the boss asked me to find some A3 paper. I have no idea…I couldn’t find any in the stationery cupboard… I…”
“Oh, you won’t,” said Jayne. “That’s a special. You have to get it from the stationery room in the basement. Do you know where that is?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “No, I don’t suppose you do. Cynthia, could you show Danny? I’m a bit busy at the moment.”
Cynthia stared at her for a moment, before she fell in.
“Oh…oh, of course. Danny, if you’d like to follow me. I’ll just get the key….and put on my cardy. There. Shall we go?”
Jayne watched them walk towards the lift with delight. When Cynthia turned at cast a glance back, Jayne gave her the thumbs-up. “Go for it, girl,” she murmured under her breath.
-
Chapter 6. Formal Introductions.
Cynthia’s hand was shaking as she pressed the button in the lift – so much so, that she first sent them to the second floor instead of the basement. The lift moved with painful slowness. They stood awkwardly, side by side, looking ahead – except that Danny was trying to look sideways to see if he could see her breasts, and Cynthia was doing the same, checking on his jeans. Was it her imagination, or was the bulge a little bigger than before? They suddenly caught each other in the act of peeping.
“Ah, Danny… Well… What a nice day… So sunny…!
“Er…yes, er…miss, I, er…”
“Cynthia, please, Danny. Well…how are you enjoying…being here?”
“Oh, yes, I really like it. It’s my first real job, see. A year ago I was still in school…”
“Really?” Shit, thought Cynthia, I really am a fuc-king baby-snatcher. Oh, god, what’s the matter with me…?”
It was a relief to get out of the lift and walk down the corridor to the stationery room. It was cool in the basement. Cynthia unlocked the door and went in. Danny followed. She turned on the lights – there were no windows - and closed the door behind her.
“So...it was A3, wasn’t it?” There were racks of paper and other supplies, and on the left a counter and a PC.
He was standing awkwardly with his back to the counter. He was a good six inches taller than her. His throat was visible inside his open collar. It looked flushed. “Yes… That’s a very pretty blouse….”
Cynthia turned bright red again. But he was so hot! She couldn’t help it. She unbuttoned her cardigan and slipped it off.
“Thank you. It’s nice to meet a guy who appreciates clothes.” Why hadn’t she put on some panties? She could feel her juices beginning to trickle down the inside of her left thigh.
“Is it silk?”
“Yes. Silk. She moved towards him. “Feel.”
He touched her arm, gingerly. She didn’t move. He left his hand there for a moment. She looked him straight in the eye. Then things happened very quickly. His hand slipped onto her left breast. She gasped, and pulled him to her. In an instant she was fumbling with his zip, and the next moment her hand was in his underpants and she had released his pen-is from its confinement. She held it gently and pressed herself against him, planting little kisses on his neck. Slowly she felt him swelling and hardening. He placed his hands on her shoulders and made a curious little noise, like a child sobbing.
She knew they might not have much time. In fact, there was no saying when someone might walk in. If the door could have been locked from the inside she would have locked it. But she had to take a chance. She dropped to her knees, gripped his erect member firmly around the base, and began licking the head. He leant back slightly, resting his buttocks against the counter, which he gripped with both hands. His little sobs soon turned to moans, and drops of clear fluid began to ooze from the tip of his pen-is onto Cynthia’s tongue. She gently pulled back the foreskin and pushed her mouth over the head. It tasted clean and sweet. It was slightly oval in cross-section, as if made to fit into a woman’s mouth. She used the tip of her tongue on the underside, making a tremor run through his body. Her thighs were wet, but she was at peace at last. Her only regret at that moment was that they had only a few minutes. She wanted hours, days.
He was becoming rather noisy. She drew back, only to say, “Shhh, Danny. You need to be as quiet as you can.” And then she closed her eyes and took him in her mouth again. Determined not to leave him frustrated, she began to rock back and forth, tonguing him vigorously. His juices flowed steadily into her mouth, and she swallowed them thirstily. Nevertheless when his climax came, she was not ready for it at all. She had sunk into a state of ecstatic stupor, like a baby when it drinks too much of its mother’s milk. She felt him tense, but before she could do anything, the first spurt, like warm cream, had filled her mouth. It was so unexpectedly copious, that she was unable to swallow it all, and half of it burst from her stretched lips and cascaded down her blouse. Danny let out a groan, Cynthia drew back her head, and then the second spurt hit her square on her right cheek. She half fell backwards, and before she could regain her feet another jet bespattered her hair. Even then she didn’t desert him. Though his orgasm had subsided, she returned and obligingly licked him clean, and then scooped the c-um from her cheek and suc-ked it off her finger.
She was still on her knees, and Danny was still standing there with his pen-is semi-erect, when they heard a sound outside the door. Frantically they tried to regain their decency and their poise. The door was opening. Cynthia grabbed her cardigan, pulled Danny behind her, pulled it wide open, smiled at the startled secretary who entered, and quickly ushered him out and back along the corridor.
“Do you think she saw?” asked Danny, nervously.
“She have to be blind if she didn’t,” said Cynthia, “quite apart from what you left for her on the floor.”
“Oh dear.”
“Don’t worry. I hope you think it was worth it.”
“It was amazing…. You are amazing.”
They stopped the lift between floors, and tidied themselves up as well as they could. They had a quick kiss and a cuddle, and exchanged phone numbers.
“We’ve got unfinished business, Danny,” smiled Cynthia. I’ll ring you tonight, okay?”
“Yes please.”
Danny got out on the first floor, giving her a little wave as he went. Cynthia wrapped herself in her cardigan, and, putting her head down, hoped no-one else would get in. She made it to the fourth alone, and trotted quickly back to her office. Jayne looked up, eyes dancing.
“Did you give it to him?”
“What?”
“The paper.”
“Oh, the paper. I forgot….”
“Cynthia? What have you been…. Did you know there’s sperm in your hair? And on your neck? Oh, my god! Your blouse…!”
“He’s lovely, Jayne.”
“You are so naughty! Now, sit down. I want to hear the whole story. Every detail, mind!”
-
Chapter 7. Cynthia’s Hobby.
“You didn’t waste any time, did you?” said Jayne, wiping Cynthia’s hair and face with a tissue. “I mean, you’ve only been away for…what is it…twenty minutes?”
“I was terrified someone was going to come in. As it was, he had only just finished when someone did.”
“You’re living dangerously, dear. Look at the state of your clothes! Better keep that cardy buttoned up tight this afternoon.”
She didn’t see Danny for the rest of the day. Whether he was too busy, or just being discreet, she wasn’t sure. But she was quite happy now to look to the future. She was already making plans for the weekend…
She was unusually nice to Paul at dinner that evening. It could have had something to do with her earlier phone conversation with Danny. She’d invited him over on Sunday afternoon, for “a little cuddle”, as she put it, and dinner in the evening. Danny asked whether she lived alone.
“Oh, no, I have a husband. But don’t worry about him. He’ll be fully taken care of.”
“Oh.” Danny laughed curiously. “In what way…?”
“Wait and see, darling. Wait and see.”
They went to one of their favourite restaurants, and had an expensive bottle of wine with their meal. In fact she was so affectionate, he even wondered whether he might be allowed to make love to her that evening. However, his hopes were soon dashed. The first thing she did when they got home was to disappear into her private boudoir, and emerge ten minutes later in full dominatrix gear – latex body, long latex gloves, thigh boots and leather collar, swinging her favourite dressage whip.
“Cynthia…no…not tonight, please. Can’t we just…”
The tip of the whip caught him on the side of his leg.
“Ow! Stop it! I’m not into this….you know I’m not…”
“Get your clothes off.” She sighed. “Come on, Paul, you know you don’t have a choice. Just save us both some time. I’ll let you wear your ballet costume tonight. I know you were disappointed I didn’t let you yesterday.”
“No! I’m not! I’m gonna go back out, and you can play your silly games by yourself. I never asked for any of this!”
“Really, your just like a child. Where are you going to go?”
“I don’t know. I…”
“Besides, I’ll feel so frustrated I can’t spank my pretty little Pauline, I’ll probably have to sit at the computer till bedtime. And then I might be tempted to write to Tanya…or Vicky…or…”
“Shut up! All right…but it’s under protest, just understand that…”
At this weak response, Cynthia burst out laughing. “You’re not going to cry, are you, diddums…?”
Paul glared at her, and tried to look threatening, but he only managed to elicit another peal of laughter. Laughter which was quickly replaced by sternness.
“Right. So go get changed. Now! And if you’re not back here in five minutes, you’ll regret it.”
Paul gave her a frightened look, and scurried off.
“And your page boy wig, too!” she shouted after him. She kept Paul’s head shaved so that his head could be adorned in one of the many wigs she had bought him. His mates thought he was being fashionable. Little did they know.
In the event he was back in three, prettily clad in his yellow satin ballet leotard, white tights and silver pumps. He peeped anxiously at her from behind his little curtains of chestnut hair. Cynthia greeted his reappearance with a triumphant smirk
“That’s better, Pauline. There. Don’t you feel so much happier now you’ve changed?” He frowned. “Don’t you?” she repeated, more firmly.
“Yes, I s’pose…”
“Yes, miss.”
“Yes, miss.”
“Of course you do.” She contemplated him with satisfaction. The little outfit suited his slight, slim figure. He stood there nervously, his arms at his sides, waiting for further instructions. He was trembling slightly. He’s such a wimp, she thought – but so adorable. I enjoy this so much more than when we used to have sex. I spoil him, of course, buying him all these cute outfits, but he’s worth it.
“Are you cold, Pauline?”
“No, miss.”
“Sure? I could warm you up a little if you like.”
“No, thank you…miss.”
“All right, then. Now listen. You’re a lucky little girl. Tomorrow I’m going to buy you a present. I do hope you like it. And on Sunday, we’ll try it out. It’ll be a surprise.”
“I’ll look forward to that, miss,” he said, with heavy irony.
Cynthia ignored it. “I’m sure you will, dear. Now, give me a twirl.”
Paul performed a rather awkward pirouette.
“Oh, dear, no, Pauline. That really will not do. Over the chair – quickly now!”
“But miss…”
“No arguments, or you’ll get twelve instead of six.”
As Cynthia laid on the strokes, to the accompaniment of Paul’s little yelps, she took the opportunity to give him some unwelcome news.
“No, I’m not at all satisfied with your progress.” Crack! “Ooh!” “So I’ve enrolled you in Madame Bonnet’s ballet class.” Crack! “Ow!” “It’s at the sixth form college.” Crack! “Oooh!” “You’ll fit right in, darling…” Crack! Crack! Crack! “Awoooo!”
-
I love it more please its brilliant???
-
Chapter 8. Dolly Bird.
Cynthia was out early in the morning. The “present” she had in mind could not be bought in her little village. She needed to drive twenty miles to a specialist shop – ‘Due Restraint’ it was called – on the outskirts of Eshingford, the nearest main town. She was becoming known there, and was getting quite friendly with the proprietor, one Georgina Tarrington. Georgina was a vivacious forty-year-old divorcee. She had opened the shop as an outlet for her own feelings a couple of years before, and had been amazed at the response. She greeted Cynthia effusively, with a hug and a kiss.
“Darling! How are you? You look radiant. If I didn’t know better, I would say you’ve got something going on….”
“Georgina. You’re absolutely right. I’ll tell you some other time, when I know precisely what it is!”
“Well, don’t forget. Now…to what do I owe the pleasure…?”
She was home by lunchtime. Nothing was said about where she’d been, but Paul could guess. He noticed, to his trepidation, that she had a satisfied expression on her face and a twinkle in her eye. After lunch she went into the garden, right to the far end by the apple tree, and had a long phone conversation, returning in a very good mood.
Sunday came, and Paul had quite forgotten about the present he had been promised, though he could sense there was something in the air. After lunch, Cynthia suddenly made an announcement.
“This afternoon you’ll be in your chair, darling. I’ll probably have a nap, and I don’t want you mauling at me. Okay?”
He knew this was not a question, so he refrained from offering an answer. His “chair” had been one of Cynthia’s brainwaves. She had found it in some second-hand shop, a tubular steel artefact from the fifties. The thing that had interested her was the decoration of little rings welded to parts of the frame, inside the curves of the arm-rests and the cross-bars on the legs. She had seen at once its possibilities as a bondage chair, and had snapped it up and brought it home. She had installed in against one wall in the bedroom, facing the side of the bed, which was against the opposite wall. She had bolted it to the floorboards so there was no chance of its occupant moving it around, and screwed a ring plate to the wall above the back so that she could attach his collar to it. The chair had been an invaluable aid to teasing her husband. Once his wrist and ankle cuffs had been linked to convenient rings, he was obliged to sit and witness, with growing frustration, whatever methods his wife used to satisfy herself, lying on the bed. It wasn’t the most enjoyable experience for him, but it appealed to Cynthia’s streak of exhibitionism; it gave her a buzz, and added a piquancy to her orgasms.
At two he was ordered to change into his ‘Alice’ outfit – a three-quarter length puff-sleeved dress of pale blue and white satin, with a bow at the waist, white tights and black patent Mary Janes, set off with a wig of luxuriant shoulder-length blonde hair. Knowing protest was futile, and this in any case being one of his least objectionable costumes, Paul complied. After presenting himself in the bedroom, he stood patiently while Cynthia buckled on his matching blue wrist and ankle cuffs, and his white locking collar, with its silver rings and little bell. She pushed him down into the chair, linked his cuffs to the chair with carabiners, and his collar to the wall plate with a short chain.
“There. Nearly done, darling. Now close your eyes and I’ll show you your present.”
She went to the cupboard and took out a plastic bag. Paul, with a sigh, obediently closed his eyes.
“You can look now.”
Cynthia was holding up something that looked like a large deflated balloon. But as she turned it over in her hands, he saw what it was. A full-head rubber hood, made of heavy natural-coloured latex, pierced only by holes for the eyes and nostrils, and a small round aperture at the mouth.
“Like it?”
“No.”
She ignored his surliness.
“And I’ve got you this to go with it.”
She held up what he later discovered was called a ‘tunnel’ gag. As she turned it over in front of his eyes its function began to dawn on him. It was shiny and scarlet – latex over steel, Cynthia later informed him - quite short, with a curved back plate designed to fit behind the teeth, and a perfectly circular aperture at the front, larger then the back plate, so that the tunnel flared out slightly like a horn, with a lip around the opening. The tunnel itself was probably about an inch and a half in diameter. He stared at it horrified, and then at Cynthia.
“I’m not wearing that…”
“I’m sorry about the wig, but maybe you can wear it later.” She peremptorily tugged it off his head. “Now, the hood may be a little tight, so I’m going to have to use some lube. Keep still, for goodness’ sake!”
She delved back into the bag and produced a tube a gel, which she squeezed straight onto his shaved head and began to spread over his skin.
“Just down to your ears should do…”
“Cynthia, please….”
“Shh…you’re going to love it, wait and see.”
Before he could raise any more objections, she had pulled open the neck of the hood – it took some little effort to stretch the heavy rubber – and after a couple of unsuccessful attempts, began to work it down over his face, flattening his nose and ears. All of a sudden it popped into place, clinging to his head like a second skin, and transforming him in an instant from a human being to a sort of rubber doll. Cynthia stood back and surveyed him.
“Wow. Georgina said I would be surprised. She was right. I like it. It really suits you.”
“It’s too tight!” came Paul’s voice, strangely muffled, from inside the mouth hole.
“You’ll get used to it,” smiled Cynthia, adjusting it till she was quite happy with the fit. “There. It could have been made for you.”
The neck of the hood came down over his collar, so she unbuckled it and buckled it back on over the top. “That looks neater,” she said. “Comfy? Good. Now let me show you the accessories. First of all, there are these.” She held up a pair of little rubber cups, printed with wide blue eyes. “These push on over the eyeholes, like that…and that. See? Oh, no,” she laughed, you can’t, can you? But they make you look very pretty, just like the real Alice, in fact.”
“Let me out!”
“Paul…”
“Let me out! Please!”
“Paul…oh, of course. You can’t hear a thing, can you. Hold on.”
She reached into the bag and retrieved a small microphone and lead, which she plugged into a socket at the back of the hood, just at the nape of the neck.
“Hello, Pauline? Can you hear me now? Just nod if you can? Great. I should have explained. The ears are padded – that’s what these little bulges are” – she stroked one side of his head – “and fitted with earphones. If I plug in the mike, I can speak to you. But this afternoon I’ll be connecting you to my player, and you’ll be able to listen to music for as long as you like.”
“I don’t wanna listen to music. I can’t see, an’ I can’t hear, either. I wanna come out…”
“You are so ungrateful, Pauline. I think it’ll be better if you can’t speak, as well. This should take care of it.”
She picked up the tunnel gag, turned it sideways, and stretching the rubber mouth hole open with her fingers, levered it into his mouth. It snapped neatly into place, the back plate behind his teeth, the mouth hole gripping the tunnel, the shiny red circular lip becoming his new mouth. He looked just like a real sex-doll!
“Oh, Danny’s going to have such a nice surprise,” she murmured.
Paul was shaking his head as much as his tether would allow, and making inarticulate gurglings. Cynthia, frowned, shortened his chain a little, and, taking from the bag a black rubber plug like a sink plug, inserted it firmly into the hole. Finally, she unplugged the mike and plugged in the player.
“There. All done. Now we can have a nice quiet, uninterrupted afternoon!”
-
Chapter 9. Two Plus One.
Now that Paul was taken care of, Cynthia had half an hour to freshen up before Danny arrived. In deference to his approval of the red blouse, she chose another silk one, grey this time, complemented by a short, flared tartan skirt, black hold-ups, and red satin panties. She didn’t spare the perfume. That at least was not going to be wasted on Paul either – smell being the one sense remaining to him.
At three exactly there was a knock at the door, and there was Danny, smiling but a bit sheepish, in jeans and an open-necked shirt.
“Hi… Is it all right to come in…?”
“Course, idiot! Get in here!”
“Okay…I was wondering...that’s all…your husband…you got rid of him then?”
“Got rid of him?” laughed Cynthia. “What, do you think I did him in or something?”
“No… I mean, he’s going to be out for a while…I hope.”
“Out? No, darling. He’s upstairs in the bedroom.”
Danny’s mouth fell open. “What? He’s here? You told me it was all taken care of!” A sudden thought crossed his mind. “I’m not into threesomes, I’m sorry…”
“Oh, Danny. Don’t worry! Neither am I. Unless it was you and your twin brother. No, come and see.” She beckoned him towards the stairs. He looked doubtful.
“Come on, silly. There’s nothing to be frightened of!”
Puzzled, Danny followed her upstairs. She led the way into the bedroom.
“Danny, may I introduce my husband, Pauline? Pauline, this is Danny.”
Danny stopped in the doorway, transfixed. He stared at the figure in the chair.
“That…that’s your husband…? Why…?”
“You can speak freely. She can’t hear, and she can’t see. She’s much better as a girl, you see, and I pretty much do what I like with her. This afternoon I thought it would be nice for us to have some privacy.”
A smile spread slowly over Danny’s face. He…she…looks like Alice in Wonderland…but also like one of those rubber sex dolls… Can she really not hear us?”
“Not at all. She’s listening to music. She’s quite happy. We can get up to whatever we like.”
“What?” He stared. “You mean here, in front of him…her?”
“Just think of her as a doll. A big, blue-eyed doll, who sees nothing, hears nothing, and knows nothing.” She sat down on the side of the bed. “Now come here and let me see that lovely prick of yours.”
Danny hesitated. Then with a grin and a shrug, he went and sat down next to her. Her perfume enveloped him, and her hand sought his crotch.
“Oh, Danny…it’s already big…”
“Cos I’ve been thinking about you all day. I had to stop myself jerking off.”
“I should hope so!” She pushed him back onto the bed, and slowly unzipped his jeans. There was no hesitation this time. His pen-is burst out, swelling and hardening before her eyes, the head, glistening with his juices, thrusting forth from its sheath. Cynthia drew a deep breath.
“Get up onto the bed properly. I want to examine this more closely.”
Danny lay on the bed. Cynthia dropped on her knees next to the bed, with her face level with his pen-is, and wrapped her fingers lovingly around the shaft. A gentle squeeze was enough to elicit a groan of pleasure from Danny, and a profuse emission from the tip of his member. Gently, she began to move her hand up and down, staring at it with concentrated fascination.
“I love your prick, Danny. It’s beautiful. And it’s so juicy – I just want to suc-k that juice all up. Do you know? If we’d had another couple of minutes in the stationery room, I could easily have c-um, just from suc-king you.”
“Oh…ah…really? I’m not surprised. You’re the sexiest girl I’ve ever met.”
Cynthia purred. The sexiest “girl”. Surely that was just flattery. But flattery gratefully received. She demonstrated her gratitude by beginning to lick Danny’s erect coc-k as if it were some sort of delicious ice cream, which had to be eaten before it melted. He sighed.
“Cynthia, stop, please. I don’t want to c-um yet. I need so badly to fuc-k you.”
“How rude you are, sir!”
But Danny was already dragging her onto the bed. He picked her up her bodily, turned her flat on her face, then lifted her hips so that her bottom was sticking up in the air. Not even bothering to take off his jeans, he pulled aside the crotch of her panties. She was already moist. He pressed the head of his pen-is firmly against her pussy, and, taking it in his hand, slid it up and down, opening her up and coating her with his own secretions.
“Oh, god, Danny…” she murmured. She had started to tremble. She slid her knees apart to give him more room to manoeuvre, but he continued to tease her, pushing the tip in and then withdrawing, until she was frantic with lust.
“Danny…darling…please…just fuc-king ram it into me! Please! I’ve gotta…oh, god!!”
He had finally obliged, and now he was thrusting into her with long, steady strokes. His pen-is was thick, but they were both so well lubricated that it moved slickly in and out. At each stroke Cynthia pushed back as hard as she could, making the head thud against her cervix. His belly slapped noisily against her buttocks.
“You sure…ah!…he can’t hear…?”
“Danny…you’re so big….god, I love you…”
His pace didn’t slacken for several minutes. Then all at once he froze.
“I’m gonna c-um in a second. Hold on…”
He withdrew, pulled a condom out of his pocket, then pulled his clothes off and tossed them on the floor. He ripped open the packet and rolled it on. In a flash he was back inside her, holding onto her upper thighs. He resumed his pounding. The condom reduced his sensitivity, and slowly he drew back from the edge of orgasm. But Cynthia wasn’t to be put off. After a minute she pulled away, turned him onto his back, climbed astride him, and rode him like a pony, clutching his hair as if it was its mane. She slid her hips firmly back and forth, using her pussy to control the movements of his pen-is, forcing it to oscillate inside her. He was moaning by this time, and Cynthia was almost hysterical with arousal, babbling any obscenity that entered her head.
“Cynth, not so loud…” he whispered, glancing sideways at the wide-eyed figure in the chair.
“I’m gonna make you fuc-king c-um like a fuc-king fountain. Don’t worry about her. She can’t hear fuc-k all, Danny.”
“But…but the whole fuc-king room’s shaking!”
“Never mind…god, this is unbelievable….Danny?”
He had suddenly grasped the bed cover with both hands, stiffened, and, with a loud groan, he climaxed. She could feel his convulsions, and the warmth of his sperm flooding out inside her. She squeezed him with her pussy as hard as she could, making him cry out as if in pain. She was overwhelmed by an indescribable elation, and, as she looked down on his contorted face and jerking torso, a sudden access of pure joyful affection. She allowed her self to fall forward onto his chest, her pussy milking him of every last drop.
After a couple of minutes, she rolled off and lay beside him. She took his hand. They didn’t speak. She glanced over at Paul. It was clear that, even though he couldn’t see or hear, he knew something was going on. His head was moving from one side to the other, searching for clues. She sat up. The full condom was hanging off the end of Danny’s now flaccid member, and was in danger of slipping off onto the coverlet. She detached it carefully, making sure not to spill any. She held it up.
“That was a big one, Danny!”
“I’ve been saving it for you.” He paused. “I think he…she, knows. Look at her.”
Paul was agitated, and producing little squeaks of protestation from inside his throat.
“Yeah. I guess she does.”
“It was sort of exciting…feeling her there…and you being her wife, like…”
“Yeah. It was. I like teasing her myself. But if she suspects….” She contemplated the condom. “If she suspects, we might as well give her the evidence.”
She slipped off the bed and went over to Paul. She gave Danny a wink. She removed the plug from his gag and put it on the floor. Then, very carefully, she stretched the mouth of the condom over the lip of the gag, and let it snap firmly in place. Danny’s eyes widened.
“What…what are you going to do?”
“It’s her treat. But she’s never had anyone else’s. She’s going to be so happy.”
The full condom was hanging down in front of his chin, heavy and warm. Carefully, she cupped it in her hand and fed it into the gag, and then replaced the plug. Paul was still for a moment, then began to struggle and throw his head about.
“There you are,” Cynthia laughed, “I told you she’d like it. Maybe we can make some more for her later…”
-
Chapter 10. Always Welcome Guests.
It was a torrid afternoon. By six, Paul had been the recipient of two more of Danny’s loads. What his feelings about that were, it was impossible to tell – whether he was agitating his head in disgust, or gratitude. As the lovers copulated, right under his nose, his face - Pauline’s face - maintained a bland, innocent, wide-eyed gaze, her circular red lips conveying nothing but an invitation to fill her mouth.
By this time, Cynthia was lying face down, eyes closed, aching in every muscle – but quite fulfilled and peacefully content. When Danny began to caress her bottom for the umpteenth time, and she felt his pen-is swelling against her thigh, instead of turning and embracing him, she sighed heavily.
“Darling…I’m pooped. I give in. You’re too much for me. I need to rest…to sleep…”
“It’s not my fault…you started it,” he laughed.
“I know I did…but I’m an old woman, and I had forgotten what teenagers are like…”
She reached for his pen-is. It was already semi-erect again.
“Seriously, Danny, I’m done…” She began weakly to play with it, thinking to give him a hand job.
“I want to put it inside…” he whispered.
“Truly. I’m sore. I need a little while….” She opened her eyes, slowly. The first thing she saw was her husband – the blank face, a string of c-um hanging from the plugged lips. A thought occurred to her.
“Pauline’s right there, dear. She’ll happily give you a blow job.”
Danny laughed.
“I’m serious. Try it. You may like it.”
“You are serious!”
“Quite. Why not? I’m sure she’s gagging to!”
“If you’re not careful, I will!”
“Dare you.”
“You don’t think I would, do you?”
It’s obvious he does want to, thought Cynthia, trying to smother a laugh.
“No, I don’t think you would.”
“Right! I’ll show you then!”
Throughout this exchange, Danny’s pen-is had been hardening. Now he slid off the bed and approached Pauline.
“Anyway, that’s what she’s for, isn’t it? That’s what sex dolls are for…”
He was pretending it was all a sort of lark, but Cynthia could tell by his tone that the idea really excited him.
“Your turn, now, Pauline,” he joked.
Cynthia sat up. Now she was feeling aroused again. Her phone was on the bedside table, and she surreptitiously picked it up and began to film. Pretending to be checking Paul’s restraints, she went over to him, quietly propping it on the window sill when Danny wasn’t looking. Then she stood back to see what was going to happen.
“Come on darling,” grinned Danny, “let’s see what you’ve got.”
He pulled out the plug, allowing a little stream of saliva and c-um to dribble down the Alice dress. His pen-is was already throbbing with anticipation.
“Do you think it’ll fit?” asked Cynthia, carelessly.
“I’ll make it,” said Danny, eyes fixed on the circle of red lips. He moved his legs slightly apart, so that his pen-is was on a level with Pauline’s mouth, and placed the head against her lips. Pauline began to shake her head. She could probably tell what was happening by the scent of Danny right under her nose. But Danny quickly held her head still between his hands, and pushed gently forward. To Cynthia’s surprise, after a brief resistance, the swollen head disappeared easily into the lubricated aperture. Danny gasped.
“I’m inside! Oh…god.”
Half his prick was buried in Pauline’s face. It was obvious that the whole glans was now in her mouth. Danny made an attempt to pull back, but it seemed that the swollen end of his pen-is was held there by the back plate of the gag. So instead he pushed forward, until his balls were resting against Pauline’s chin. Cynthia stared in disbelief. Pauline started making little squeaking noises deep down in her throat. Danny let out a great sigh of pleasure, and then slowly pulled back to his former position.
Cynthia looked at him questioningly. “Nice?”
“Amazing!”
“Better than my pussy?”
“No…,” he said, unconvincingly.
“Let’s see if we can make it better for you.” She picked up the mike, unplugged the player, and plugged it in.
“Hello, darling. I hope you’re having a nice time. Say hello to Danny. Danny’s the guy who’s in your mouth at the moment. He’s a guest. Now, you know how courteous we always are to our guests, don’t you? Well, it would be very nice if you’d make him welcome by using you tongue on his pen-is. Yes?”
She waited. “Anything happening?”
“Not a thing.”
“Okay. See how far in you can get it.”
“Sure.” Danny clasped his hands around the back of Pauline’s rubber-sheathed head, and pulled it forward, thrusting forward himself at the same time, till his pubic hair was tickling Pauline’s nostrils. She squirmed and squeaked frantically.
“Okay, that’s enough.”
He pulled back. Cynthia held up the mike again.
“So, dear, I’m sure you understand the point. Either you can welcome our guest properly, or he’ll be forced to take his pleasure in the way he’s just demonstrated. Take your choice.” She looked at Danny. “Any reaction?”
Danny didn’t reply directly, but the words were hardly out of her mouth when his eyeballs drifted upwards, and he gave a loud groan of pleasure. “Oh, my god. Yes…yes!”
Cynthia smiled. She glanced down at her phone. Good. Recording nicely. Would hate to miss anything.
In the minutes that followed, Danny did occasionally allow himself the pleasure of sliding deeper into Pauline’s mouth, but in general he let her do the work, revelling in the feeling of her tongue lapping dutifully at his glans, and assiduously exploring the underside cleft. His stood there, his body undulating, his buttocks clenched. Cynthia placed and affectionate hand on his bum, and murmured quiet words of encouragement in his ear. He was gritting his teeth and moaning, and she could see it wouldn’t be long until his climax overwhelmed him.
“Darling?” she whispered, “When it happens, try not to thrust in. I want her to be able to taste how delicious your sperm is. She’s a connoisseur, you know.”
Those words pushed Danny over the brink. With a cry, he came violently, pumping hot c-um into Pauline’s mouth – more than she could comfortably swallow, in fact, for a few drops burst from one side of her mouth, and even from her nostrils. However, Cynthia noted with relief that she manged to gulp down most of it. It would have been a pity had any significant amount been wasted.
Danny remained in her mouth for about a minute before he finally withdrew his wilting coc-k. It was satisfying to observe that there was no flow of semen from the gag as it slid out.
“Our greedy little girl seems to have swallowed the lot,” smiled Cynthia, replacing the plug. “Now, Danny, if you’re quite satisfied, perhaps we could go and make dinner? After all, Pauline’s already eaten, and I’m feeling hungry!”
-
Chapter 11. Secrets.
“Yes, I’m hungry myself now, after that,” said Danny, still standing in front of Paul.
“You’d give her good marks, then,” asked Cynthia.
“Ten out of ten,” grinned Danny. He picked up the mike. “Thank you for the best blow-job” – here Cynthia raised an eyebrow – “oops, I mean, the second-best blow-job, I’ve ever had, Paul…er, Pauline.” He laughed. “Maybe we can do it again sometime?” He patted Paul’s rubber-clad cheek. The wide-eyed doll made no apparent response. “There’s plenty more where that came from!”
“Right, Danny, I get it,” said Cynthia, with just a hint of irritation, taking the mike from him. Now go have a shower and come downstairs. I’ll have one after you.”
“And Paul here…?” he asked, casually, picking up his clothes.
“Oh, he’ll be all right where he is for a while.” She knew Danny had to go home that night – he and his mates were watching some important football match – and she thought it would be amusing if Paul never actually got to lay eyes on the owner of the pen-is – at least, not yet. As soon as Danny left the room, she retrieved her phone and turned off the video. As to why she had recorded Danny’s performance – well, she knew she’d want to watch it again herself, for one. But also, Cynthia was a wily woman, and she had a vague idea it might come in useful one day. I’ll download that to the computer after he’s left, she thought to herself. And I suppose Paul should have a copy too.
After dinner, Danny had to rush off to meet his mates. Typical man, thought Cynthia, though she was equally happy to see him go now that her sexual needs had been satisfied. She had no desire for any romantic relationship with anyone.
She sat in the lounge for a while, finishing her wine and cogitating. Then she jumped up and ran upstairs. She contemplated the vision that was Paul, took a quick snap of him full-faced, tut tutted over the slimy state of his lovely dress, then flipped the caps off his eyes and picked up the mike.
“All right, darling,” she smiled, “it’s time for you to be released. Sit still while I get that gag off, please.” She dropped the mike. “Now, open wide – as wide as you can.”
With a effort she first pressed it in, then prised it out of his mouth and out of the aperture in the rubber hood. It was an ingenious device. It was designed so that, if the wearer was prevented from using his or her hands, it could not be removed - so it required no external strap to hold it in place. Perfect for the creation of a human sex-doll.
“Better?”
Paul sighed with relief. “My jaw…aches so much…”
“Never mind. Let’s get that hood off.”
She unbuckled his collar, and, after a short struggle, manged to roll the hood off his head, with only minor injuries to his nose and ears.
“There.” She put it aside, and went to release his hands and feet. “What’s up with you?”
Paul was pouting and frowning at her. “Who was that? Why did you let him do that?”
“Who was it? He’s a friend – a guest. Why did I let him do it? Because it’s your function to entertain, amuse and if necessary, satisfy our guests. Do you have a problem with that?”
Her dressage whip was propped in the corner, and she went over and picked it up.
“Well, do you?”
Paul’s eyes widened with fear. He immediately changed his tune.
“No. No, darling, of course not…”
“Sure?”
“Yes, absolutely…absolutely…”
“Good. Just as well. And if you are required to do it again – or do anything – you’ll do it. Clear?”
“Yes. Clear. Perfectly clear.” He paused. “His name’s Danny? Did you…did you…”
“fuc-k him? Of course. Several times. You swallowed the result.”
“Where…”
“Enough questions. If you’re good, I might let you watch us next time.”
Paul stiffened and blushed. Cynthia looked at him questioningly.
“Does that excite you?”
“N-no, of course not, I…I…”
She smiled. “It does, doesn’t it? Paul, you’re such a little pervert. That’s why I love you. I bet you enjoyed every minute of your bondage this afternoon. And I bet the thing you enjoyed most was having Danny’s big juicy prick in your mouth, and gobbling up his lovely thick sperm. I noticed how greedily you were swallowing it.”
“Cynthia…no…it wasn’t…like that…”
But his embarrassment was a confession that he had not been entirely averse to the experience. Of course, he hated the humiliation of being restrained, made into a sex-doll, and most of all supplanted by another, more virile lover. He hated Cynthia making him her submissive, exploiting his weak will. But she felt sure that suc-king Danny’s pen-is had given him an immense thrill. She guessed that doing such a thing was something he fantasized about, but would never have had the nerve to do unless he had been forced into it. She had suspected that he had been aroused at the time, and that the recollection of it was arousing him again. She lifted his dress to confirm her suspicions, and smiled with satisfaction when she saw his member straining at his little panties.
“I think it was, naughty boy. You look as though you need to attend to that. All right. You may.”
She released his hands, and left him to free his feet.
“I’ll see you downstairs in a while. I’ve kept your dinner for you. Don’t be too long, will you?” She went to leave, but turned round in the doorway.
“By the way, I’ve sent you a video. Your phone’s by the bed. You might find it interesting viewing while you’re…relieving your frustrations.”
Paul took some time to appear downstairs. He looked a lot more relaxed than before.
“Did you like the film?”
His cheeks burned and he bit his lip.
“Gorgeous, isn’t he?”
No reply.
But later on, after they had gone to bed, she in the bed which still smelled of Danny, and he in his sleeping bag, he asked, innocently, “Cynthia? Will you be seeing Danny again sometimes?”
“Relax, darling. I hope to be seeing a lot of him. But I don’t know if I can cope with him all by myself. I might need some help. Tanya, maybe…or Vicky…or…you, even?”
The only reply was a suppressed intake of breath.
-
Chapter 12. A Treat for Paulie.
The following day Cynthia found Jayne eager to hear about the weekend.
“Tell me everything, darling. Every little sordid detail.”
“Well, what can I say? After a few hours with him, I could hardly move.”
“He’s good then…”
“Good…and bad.”
“Bad? How?”
“Well I had to do something with Paul…”
“Oh my god. I’d forgotten about him. Did you get rid of him for the day?”
“You’re the second person who’s suggested that. No, I didn’t get rid of him. He stayed for the whole thing.”
Jayne gasped. “What? He was there…?”
“He was there. Course, I made sure he couldn’t interfere. You know my methods, Watson.” (Watson was Jayne’s surname.)
“You tied him up somewhere! God, Cynthia, you’ve got some nerve.”
“Somewhere? Well yes – in the bedroom right opposite us.”
Jayne gaped.
“Here’s a picture.” She showed Jayne the photo of Paul’s ‘face’. Jayne covered her mouth. She was speechless.
“But he was not entirely left out. Danny took rather a liking to him.”
“T-took a liking….?”
“I’m going to show you a short clip. But before I do, you must promise not to breathe a word to anyone – ever. And don’t let on to him that you know.”
She scrolled through the video, and showed Jayne a few seconds. Then put her phone back in her pocket.
Jayne’s mouth fell open. She stared at Cynthia in shock. After a minute or so she said, “He really did that?”
“He did. And he loved it. He doesn’t know I filmed him, and he’s not going to.”
“My god! Show me again!”
“Okay. Once more, that’s all.”
“fuc-k, Cynthia, that makes me so hot. For me, seeing two men having it like that is about the sexiest thing I can think of. If I ever want a really good wank, I just watch one of those gay porn films. But this! Too much.”
“Not a word, right?”
“Not a word. But I’ll look at him in a different light now. And your poor husband!”
“Not at all. I’m pretty sure, despite all the recriminations, he enjoyed himself just as much.”
Cynthia went to see Danny at his flat on Tuesday and Thursday evening, leaving Paul alone to imagine what they were getting up to. But she had some consolation for him. On the Friday morning a package arrived. His new hot pants! She took them upstairs and unwrapped them from the tissue with reverent care. “Beautiful,” she murmured. Glossy scarlet latex, cross-belts with big pink buttons at the front, very short legs trimmed with frilling, a zip fly with a pink plastic ring-pull, which ended just below the waistband, a small vertical pocket on the right, and a little pink flower logo on the left leg.
“Paul? Come up to the bedroom, please. You’ve got another present, you lucky boy!”
He came up, a sulky expression on his face.
“Don’t look like that. Look what I’ve got for you.”
“Yeah? Okay…”
He was not entirely disappointed. At least it wasn’t a dress. And if the truth were told, he had a bit of a thing about rubber. The feel of it next to his skin always made him excited.
“Let’s get you dressed. I have an idea. I think you’re going to look nice.
She dressed him in a crisp white shirt, and then made him pull on his hot pants. They fitted very snugly, his pen-is like a little sausage and his balls clearly visible under the fine latex. She arranged him so that his balls lay neatly, one each side of the centre seam, and the sausage at forty-five degrees to his right. She helped him on with his white socks and Mary Janes, and completed his outfit with a little red bow-tie.
“Nearly finished…”
She produced a new wig, like a schoolboy’s hair, neatly parted on the left. And finally, a red baseball cap, printed with the words “Little Rascal”, which she stuck on the back of his head. She stood back to admire her work.
“Paul… You look just like a mischievous little boy,” she laughed. “But totally adorable.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “Wait. I have another idea.”
She led him into her boudoir, sat him down at the dressing-table, and proceeded to paint a few freckles onto his cheeks. “There. That’s perfect!”
She took his hand. “Come out into the garden. I want a few pictures.”
He submitted, and soon he found himself posing against the back wall of the house. He felt slightly confused. This was not anything like his usual outfits, yet he felt somehow quite in character. He liked the feeling of the tight rubber, and the air on his legs, and of feeling smart - and it fed into his unrealised, unconscious desire to regress to a happier period of his life. Soon he was grinning, and showing off for the camera. He knew he was being watched – out of the corner of his eye he could see the kids from next door hanging over the fence pointing – but he didn’t care. For Cynthia, his eager compliance opened up all sorts of possibilities. So she decided she was going to reinforce his obvious liking for his new costume. After the photo session, she led him back indoors, and told him to wait in the lounge. She disappeared into the hallway, and a moment later returned holding a short red jacket.
“This goes with the cap.” She held it up, with the back towards him. “See? “Little Rascal” on the back.”
“Er…thanks, Cynthia.”
He took the jacket. A short, shiny bomber jacket, with pink collar and cuffs. It might have been quite cool if it wasn’t for the pink. But he guessed it matched the hot pants.
“Try it on. Let me see what it looks like.” She sat down on the sofa to view him in comfort.
He did as he was bid. It fitted perfectly.
“Zip it up. That’s it. There, it looks great on you.”
Maybe it did. He wasn’t sure. When it fastened it came down just to the waist, so the big pink buttons peeped out under the pink trim.
“Turn around. Super.” Cynthia was gratified to see how cute it looked from the back, too.
“Come here, you naughty little boy, and sit on my lap. That’s right. Now listen. If I catch you misbehaving, young man, you’ll be over my knee for a good spanking. Understand?” She was delighted when Paul fidgeted and giggled just like a kid. All the surliness was gone. Cynthia was surprised at what a success it was. This was clearly the role he wanted. And if so, she’d make sure he got what he wanted. Her mock strictness softened into a smile. “But if you’re good, and do what your mummy tells you, then she might…reward you…”
She dug her fingers gently into his ribs, making him squirm and giggle even more. Then she did something she hadn’t done for a long time. She let her hand slide down onto his pants, and began to stroke the little sausage. He gasped and began to tremble. She gently massaged him into full erection, until she could feel his pants were slippery with juice. Then she began to kiss him, on the neck, the cheek, the lips, all the while gently moulding and pulling his pen-is like a piece of plasticine. She kept him on the edge as long as she could, until at last he was convulsed by a massive orgasm. His cap fell off onto the floor. As he sat there, jerking with after-shocks, completely happy and exhausted, she gave him one final peck on the cheek.
“There, Paulie. You’re mummy’s good boy, aren’t you? I hope Paulie likes his new hot pants…”
But she hoped, after this, he would be much happier to put on his new outfit – and she was already thinking how that could be used to her advantage.
-
Chapter 13. Tanya.
That evening, when Paul was happily watching television, still dressed in his hot pants, Cynthia went upstairs and telephoned her friend Tanya. Tanya was a fun-loving girl the same age as her, who she’d been at college with. She was a nurse, and she had a partner called Roger, who was a bit of a egotist, and whom Cynthia found mildly irritating. Hence, when she fancied a good long girlie chat, she generally liked to get Tanya on her own. Paul hated Roger, largely because he himself had a thing for Tanya, and he was jealous. But Roger’s personality made it all the more difficult for him.
Cynthia knew Roger was away at some conference that weekend, so she wanted to ask whether they could meet up on Saturday. It turned out Tanya was at a loose end, and only too eager for them to get together. Neither felt like doing much, so it was agreed she’d come over to Cynthia’s for the day. Tanya had a vague idea of Cynthia’s relationship with Paul – she knew Cynthia ruled the roost – but no conception of what really went on. Cynthia was thinking it was about time she let her in on a few of the details. The events of the previous weekend had opened her eyes to the possibilities of involving others in her games. As she was talking, she wondered what Tanya would say if she could see him now, in his latest outfit. But her priority was to get him feeling comfortable wearing it – he looked so sweet, and she didn’t want to spoil things by humiliating him.
Tanya arrived just before lunch, as they had arranged. Paul, who was of course back in his everyday clothes, had been excited all the morning, looking forward to seeing his favourite girl once again. Tanya was pretty cool, with her short blond hair, big earrings, and bright red lipstick. She was always simply but smartly dressed. Today she was wearing jeans, ankle boots, a big man’s shirt, and a scarf tied carelessly about her neck. When the door was opened, she came in like a gust of sweet wind, in a cloud of expensive scent. She greeted both of them with hugs and kisses. She knew very well that Paul liked her, and was not averse to playing up to it, always including him in the conversation, and throwing little winks and funny glances in his direction. No wonder he fancied her so much.
At lunch, Tanya brought them up to speed on her latest news, which was, to Paul’s utter disgust, that she and Roger were going to be married the next month.
“It’s no big deal,” she said, I mean, we’ve been together three years now. “But my mum’s wants me to have a church wedding. It’s not something I would want, but I’ve agreed anyway. I just didn’t feel I could disappoint her.”
“Wow, congratulations!” cried Cynthia. “ I hope we’re invited.”
“Of course, you know you are.”
“Yeah…congratulations,” added Paul, quite deflated.
“So what’s happening with you two?”
“Not much… same old same old…”
Yeah, like hell, thought Paul. If she only knew…
After lunch, they went and sat in the lounge. Tanya and Cynthia were on the sofa, chatting away, laughing and giggling like they always did, when suddenly Tanya reached down and picked something up off the floor.
“What’s this? “Little Rascal”. Who’s a little rascal?”
“Who do you think? Paul? You’ve left your cap here.”
Tanya laughed. “Paul? Are you a little rascal?”
Paul turned red, not knowing what to say.
“He was yesterday, Tanya. A very naughty little rascal.”
“Cynthia…,” he protested.
“Oh, don’t be shy, Paul. Tell Tanya what you got up to. Go on.”
Paul was momentarily speechless. He tried to recover his poise. “I-I…you know…Cynthia got it for me as a joke…” He tried to smile, casually. “I don’t know why…”
But Cynthia, enjoying his embarrassment, and seeing that Tanya was going to get to the bottom of it one way or another anyway, couldn’t resist the temptation.
“I’ll show you. It’s part of Paul’s new outfit. Here.”
Paul was aghast. But it was too late. She passed her phone to Tanya, who scrolled through the pictures.
“Oh my god! Paul! You look so sweet! I can hardly believe it’s you! Those cute little hot pants!”
She must have caught sight of his erection in one of the pictures, because she suddenly covered her mouth and gasped, and looked at Cynthia for an explanation.
“Why don’t you go and put it on for Tanya. I know she’d love to see you in it.”
“No!...I…don’t think…” he was panicking now.
“Oh, please, Paul,” Tanya begged. “Please. Just for me.” She rose, went over to him, and pulled him up out of his chair. She put her arms round him. “Just for me. Please. I won’t tell anyone. But you look so smart! It was so clever of Cynthia. I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”
She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and stroked his head.
“But Tanya…it was just a joke…you know…”
“Maybe it was, darling. But it really does something for me. I can see you have the facility - the rare facility – to connect to your inner child. I find that so attractive. So few men are capable of shedding their chauvinism like that. I always knew you were special…”
“I’m not special.” He was weakening. “But I suppose…if you insist…”
“Oh, you wonderful man. My darling!” And she hugged him again, giving Cynthia a broad wink over his head.
Cynthia, who had been watching Tanya’s performance with a mixture of amusement and admiration, jumped up and took Paul’s hand before he could change his mind.
“Come on, darling. Let’s go and put on your nice outfit.” And she half led, half pulled him, out of the room.
-
Chapter 14. Man and Boy.
Once upstairs Paul began to get cold feet.
“Cynthia, I’m not sure about this….”
“Why? Seems to me you’ve made quite a hit with my friend.”
“I dunno…. Don’t you think these hot pants…well, don’t you think they’re a bit…you know…”
“What? Don’t be silly. They’re very smart. Now come on, Don’t keep her waiting.”
When Cynthia was quite satisfied with him, when she had combed his schoolboy hair and adjusted his pants, she ushered him downstairs and into the lounge. Tanya was a perceptive woman, and understood exactly what was required of her. She was waiting on the sofa holding the thing which had given the game away – Paul’s cap.
“Come here, love,” she said, gently. “Let me put this on you…there. Now let me look at you.”
Paul stood awkwardly in front of her, picking shyly at the frills on the left leg of his hot pants. Tanya thought she had never seen anything so cute in her life. Her two overwhelming feelings were a desire to smile, and a desire to cuddle him. But she resisted both. And she ignored the mound of his pen-is outlined by the thin latex.
“You look amazing, Paul,” she said, seriously. “If I weren’t engaged, I think I’d do my best to steal you from Cynthia. I hope she appreciates you, or I might still try.”
Paul was beginning to lose his self-consciousness. He let go the frills and put his hand on his hip.
“Seriously, Cynthia, he’s such a darling. You’re so lucky. Looking at him, I’m even beginning to go off Roger.”
Cynthia played along. “I know. He’s a cute guy all right. I regret to say I’m not always as nice to him as I should be, I know.”
That’s an understatement, thought Paul.
“I wish I saw more of you guys. Especially you, Paul. No offence, Cynthia. When you come to mine you often leave Paul at home.”
That’s right, thought Paul. Cos you know I fancy her. You get jealous. But look at the stuff you do to me!
“Perhaps you could both come over tomorrow,” she continued. “Roger’s away for the whole weekend.”
“I’m sorry, said Cynthia, “I’m busy tomorrow.”
Yeah, busy fuc-king Danny, thought Paul. He had been warned he’d be over again on Sunday.
“What about Paul?”
Paul suddenly became animated. A day with Tanya? Yes, please. “I’m not doing anything,” he piped up. “Cynthia, could I go? Please?”
Tanya had to smile. Not only was he dressed like a kid, but he was behaving like one too! She thought she was going to burst under the excess of cuteness.
“Well, maybe…” began Cynthia, feigning reluctance.
But now Paul was determined. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t. Tanya’s invited me. And you’re “busy”, aren’t you?”
“Well, all right, darling, if Tanya doesn’t mind…”
“Mind? I’d love to have Paul for the day.” Now everyone was behaving as if Paul was a nine-year-old.
Paul was ecstatic. He leant forward and gave Tanya a hug.
“That’s settled then,” she said. “If you’re busy, Cynth, I’ll come over and pick him up in the morning.”
“Would you? That’d be great.”
For the rest of the day, Paul was a changed person. He was cheerful, obliging, and animated. He had been transformed into a little boy, excited at the prospect of a day with Auntie Tanya. The women were highly amused, but also enchanted. They were careful not to do anything to break the spell. They treated him with motherly solicitude, smiling at his antics, listening attentively to his chatter. When he wasn’t looking, they exchanged surprised glances. In the evening, when they were sitting down watching television, Paul cuddled up to Tanya on the sofa and put his arms around her like a child. She felt her heart melt with tenderness, strangely mingled with sexual attraction. Her hand was in her lap, only inches from the little bulge in his hot pants. It would have been so easy… But she compressed her lips, and focussed on the programme.
When it was time for her to leave, she embraced each of them in turn, gave Paul a pat on his bottom, and promised not to be late the next day. As soon as she got home, she rang Cynthia and they marvelled over the turn events had taken.
“You were wonderful, Tanya.”
“I knew what you wanted. I did my best.”
“You did it perfectly. I think he’s quite attached to his new outfit now, thanks to you. I love him in it. He’s just so sweet.”
“Oh my god, he’s delicious! Don’t worry. I’m going to do all I can to reinforce it. He’s such a doll!”
More than you know, thought Cynthia.
“Well, see you in the morning.”
“You will. Bye!”
“Bye.”
Cynthia put down her phone, and gave a little whistle. She’s the best, she thought. Just as well she’s having him tomorrow. It’ll free up me and Danny. She grinned. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s quite disappointed!
-
Chapter 15. At Tanya’s.
Paul awoke on Sunday morning with a good, firm erection. He couldn’t remember what he had been dreaming about, but he knew Tanya came into it somehow. He had a cool shower, which calmed him considerably. Then came the question of what to wear. Was he going to wear his normal clothes, or…? He frowned. After considering for a while, he put on his jeans and T-shirt and made his way downstairs. Cynthia was making coffee.
“Good morning, darling. Coffee?”
“Yes please.”
“You all ready, then?” She checked the clock. “Tanya will be here in an hour.”
She was slightly disappointed, but not surprised, that he wasn’t wearing his hot pants. But she could see by his expression he was in something of a dilemma. She passed no comment, however, and carried on making breakfast, singing quietly to herself, and leaving it to him to say something.
By half past nine he had still not broached the subject, but he appeared in a state of mild agitation. Then, about twenty to, he finally spoke.
“Cynthia, do you think I’m okay to go to Tanya’s like this?”
“You look fine, darling. Why?”
“No reason. I was just wondering. Yesterday….”
“Ah, your new outfit. Well, she may be a little disappointed. But it’s probably best you keep it for here. I wouldn’t want it getting torn or anything.”
“What do you mean, torn?”
“Well, you know, Tanya has all that rough wood furniture and stuff in the garden. That climbing frame she put up for her niece. It might get snagged or something.”
Paul felt insulted. “What, like I’m gonna spend all day jumping about on a kid’s climbing frame? So what if she’s got a bit of rustic furniture? I like her house, just because it’s not all neat and perfect like ours. In any case, those clothes were a present to me. Which means they’re mine, and I decide when to wear them!”
Cynthia turned her head aside to hide her smile.
“Well I was only saying… Anyway, it’s too late now. She’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“It’s not too late. I’ll be right back.”
Five minutes later he re-emerged, neatly dressed in his hot pants outfit, with a triumphant expression on his face. “There. See? It’s my decision, what I wear.”
“Well, all right, but don’t blame me if they get spoiled.”
There was a knock at the door.
“That’s her!” He rushed to open it.
Cynthia could hear from the tone of Tanya’s voice she was delighted.
“Paul! Good morning! You look smashing!”
He glowed with pleasure.
Tanya popped her head round the kitchen door.
“I won’t hang about. We’ll get going.” They exchanged a wink. “See you later, darling.”
“Bye. Bye Paul. Take your jacket! It’s in the hall cupboard.”
“Okay…got it! Bye!” He grabbed his little red bomber jacket and slipped it on as he followed Tanya down the path.
“Oh, that’s a very cute jacket. Goes perfectly with your outfit.”
“Yeah, I guess…”
As they headed for the car, a group of teenage girls passing by stopped dead and stared. Paul noticed, and hesitated, perhaps wondering what their reaction was going to be. But to Tanya’s relief, one of them smiled, and gave him a thumbs up. They got into the car.
“Well, they seemed to approve,” grinned Tanya. “You’d better be careful, young man. You’ll have all the girls after you. Cynthia wouldn’t be very pleased if one of them snapped you up!”
A self-satisfied smile came over his face. Serve her right, he thought. Yeah, that’s what I should do. I should find myself a nice girl. Why not? She’s got Danny. Yeah, Danny, Suppose he’ll be round there later. He looked wistful. He’s not a bad guy, though. Not at all. Very good looking, actually. Nice eyes, and… Anyway, I should teach her a lesson. Definitely. I’m not scared of her! Not really… He shuddered, remembering how adept she was with that whip…
“Penny for them.”
“Sorry?”
“Penny for your thoughts.”
“Oh…nothing…”
“Anyway, we’re here.”
She drove onto the driveway and parked. He followed her to the door. Two boys passing in the street stopped and stared, reawakening his doubts. But he dismissed the thought when Tanya waved at them and passed inside.
“My neighbour’s boys,” she said. “Nice kids, but very nosey.”
He liked Tanya’s house. It was a bit more relaxed that at home. She didn’t worry about housekeeping as much as Cynthia. Tanya was into painting. She had converted one of the large bedrooms into a studio. After coffee, they spent the whole morning in there, experimenting. Tanya gave him lots of hints, and by lunchtime he was really enjoying himself. It was so much more fun here than at home!
“What do you like painting best, Tanya?”
“Oh, people. Portraits. I’d like to paint yours some time, if you’d let me.”
“Course I would!”
“You’d have to stand still for hours on end. It’s not easy being a sitter – or a stander.”
“I wouldn’t mind.” I wouldn’t mind at all, he thought, if it meant I could be round here a bit more often.
They had just packed up the paints and brushes, when there was a ring at the doorbell.
“Oh, that’ll be Vicky. She always comes for lunch on a Sunday. Let’s go down.”
“Vicky?” Paul was alarmed. Vicky was Cynthia’s and Tanya’s friend, but she was one of those people with a facility for mockery and sarcasm. He had always been slight wary, even afraid, of her. What would she say when she saw him there? In his hot pants?
Tanya opened the door.
“Hi Vicky! How are you?”
“Fine. Oh, is that Paul? Hello Paul, nice to see you.”
“H-hello, V-vicky…” He waited for the snide remark. But it never came.
“It took me ages to get here today…the traffic! Anyway, I got the salad, and I brought a couple of bottles…”
“Makes a change Vicky,” laughed Tanya, with a wink.
Vicky turned to Paul.
“This is an unexpected pleasure. What a great outfit! Where did you get it?”
“I…er, Cynthia bought it for me…”
“I love it. That’s a very cool jacket, too. It really suits you, Paul. My Raymond could never carry off something like that. He looks like an old hound, especially when he hasn’t shaved for a week. You always look smart and clean.”
“Oh yes, Paul knows how to present himself all right,” put in Tanya. “What do you think of the pants, Vicky?”
She reached out and tugged at the frilling. “Latex, aren’t they?” Paul nodded. “Very fashionable. Not cheap either. Your wife has good taste.” She turned towards the kitchen. “Shall I open the white?”
Paul relaxed. All his doubts dissipated like mist in the sun. His confidence returned.
“Here, let me,” he said, reaching for the wine bottle.
“Oh, thank you, Paul. I always struggle with corks…give me a screw cap any time…”
But as Paul bent over the bottle to pull the cork, he didn’t see Tanya give Vicky the thumbs-up, and Vicky return a broad wink.
-
Chapter 16. Revelations.
They ate a pleasant lunch, washing it down with several glasses of chilled white wine. For Paul, the combination of the ladies’ approval and the alcohol dispelled any last vestige of reticence. He became voluble and humorous, and soon he felt he was on equal terms with them, chatting away like an old friend. It was the best time he had had in months, in good company, and far from the clutches of his wife, whom he knew was by now very much otherwise engaged. Perhaps this could be the future – spending time with Tanya and Vicky and maybe some of the others, being more of an independent person than a chattel of his spouse’s. He began to think he wouldn’t care if she allowed Danny to oust him as principal partner, though that thought was accompanied by a certain unease, whose nature he couldn’t quite divine, though it seemed to be connected in some way to sex.
After lunch, they retired to Tanya’s lounge, a reassuringly untidy room with loads of rugs and throws and beanbags scattered around beside the furniture. Tanya pushed him playfully down onto a beanbag, and sat on the floor beside him in the manner of an acolyte. She let him chatter away, entertaining herself by keeping an eye on the bulge in his pants and inhaling the scent of warm latex, while exchanging the occasional wink or meaningful glance with Vicky, who sat opposite in an old armchair.
Somehow, the conversation came round to men. Perhaps it was Vicky who steered it in that direction, complaining about her boyfriend. In any case, soon the two women were nattering away as if there was no male in the room, yet not for one minute excluding Paul from the conversation.
“Roger’s just as bad,” Tanya was saying, “typical bloke. Wants all the pleasure, and when he’s had it, what happens? His mind’s on his real loves – food and football!”
“Yes, the three ‘F’s,” agreed Vicky. “Just like Raymond.”
“You’re not like that, are you Paul?” said Tanya, placing her hand on his thigh. “I can tell. I bet you know how to satisfy a woman.”
Paul, somewhat embarrassed, muttered some modest reply.
“Oh, come on,” said Vicky, “us girls can tell. I bet you go down on Cynthia for hours at a time. You only have to look at her. She’s always so…content!”
“Well, I…”
“Do you?” asked Tanya, seriously.
“Well, as a matter of fact…”
“You do, don’t you? God, that makes my pussy so wet! I wish I had met you before I met Roger.” She leant her cheek against his flesh. “Tell us what goes on in your bedroom, Paul. Don’t be shy. We won’t tell Cynthia.”
The wine had loosened Paul’s tongue, and the conversation was beginning to make him aroused. He felt freed from his fetters, both of verbally and sexually.
“You don’t want to know,” he grimaced, smug in the knowledge that they wanted to know very much indeed.
“Come on, you can tell us,” said Tanya. “Don’t worry. It’ll never go outside this room and this hour.”
“All right. First of all, she stopped having real sex with me over a year ago. All I’m allowed – required – to do these says, is to service her with tongue and dil-do. She never gives me a blow job any more. I even have to ask permission to masturbate. It’s true!”
The women were staring at him aghast. He went on.
“At this very moment she’s humping some guy she met at work. Last weekend….” He stopped suddenly. What was he saying. The wine… He passed a hand over his face.
“What? What happened last weekend? Tell us!” cried Vicky, wide-eyed.
“No, I can’t. It’s too…embarrassing.” He realised he had almost gone too far. He also registered that the recollection of that incident was giving him an erection. Tanya saw it too. Seated on the floor next to him, the swelling mound was inches from her face.
“Paul…you can tell us, please? I can tell it’s something…very bad…”
“I can’t…oh!”
Tanya had slid her hand up and rested it on the bulge of his semi-tumescent pen-is. She stroked it softly.
“We need to know, darling…we may even be able to help…”
Vicky had left her chair and was now squatting on the other side of his legs. Tanya began to fondle him. He groaned, and made an ineffectual gesture of protest. The rubber was already slippery with his juices, and Tanya could detect faint squelching sounds as she coaxed it into a state of full dilation. His head fell back and he began to breathe heavily.
“You poor thing!” said Vicky.
“He just needs some proper attention,” murmured Tanya, varying her technique, and now gently squeezing and pulling at it. It was pointing straight at her face, as if it would have liked to burst through the taut rubber and thrust its way between her lips. She leant forward slightly and kissed the tip tenderly. “Oh, my god,” gasped Paul. She nodded to Vicky, and repositioned herself between his legs. Carefully, she swivelled his pen-is around until it was flat up against his tummy. Then Vicky reached over, hooked one finger through the pink plastic ring-pull, and unzipped his hot pants.
His erect prick sprang out, and stood, glistening and quivering, before them. Vicky drew a breath. Tanya licked her lips. Taking the slippery shaft in her hand, she began to slide the foreskin slowly up and down, all the time watching Paul’s reaction. His eyes were closed, and he started to twitch and moan quietly.
“Now, sweetie,” said Tanya, “From now on, Vicky and I are going to take good care of you. We’re going to be your very bestest friends, and we’re going to make sure you’ll never have to experience such awful frustration any more.” She pulled his member forward, drew back the foreskin, and she and Vicky began to lick and kiss it softly. “Now tell us what happened last weekend…”
Between groans, Paul began to recount the events of that Sunday, hesitantly and somewhat reluctantly. But every time he broke off, the girls also stopped their ministrations, so that he soon realised that, if he wanted them to continue, he would have to tell them everything. As the story began to unfold, Tanya and Vicky momentarily stopped their activities, and stared at each other with amazement. Soon they resumed their licking and suc-king and nibbling, however, with redoubled enthusiasm. Tanya found herself involuntarily playing with her pussy, and she soon realised Vicky was doing the same. They were so absorbed in their pleasure, that they were unprepared for Paul’s climax, with the result that all three of them received a copious sperm shower. The girls looked at each other, Paul’s milky fluids dripping from their face and hair, and burst out laughing. It was even on Paul’s face and shirt, and a pool of it was sliding stickily down the leg of his hot pants.
Tanya fetched a box of tissues, and they started to clean themselves up.
“God, Paul, that made me so hot,” said Tanya. “I would give anything to have been in that room…”
“She filmed it, too….”
“She filmed it?” cried Vicky, still wiping the sperm from her hair.
“Yeah, then had the nerve to send it to me!”
“Show us! Show us!” begged Tanya.
“No, I can’t… I’ve already told you too much…”
Now Paul had come back down to earth, he was realising that it had been rash of him to be so open with them. But they weren’t to be denied.
“Is it on your phone? It is, isn’t it? Vicky, grab his phone. It’s on the table.”
“No…please…”
Too late. Vicky had snatched Paul’s phone and rushed out of the room. He heard her footsteps on the stairs, and guessed she was going to download the video. Tanya tried to calm him.
“There, there, Paul. We don’t have any ulterior motive. It’s just that…guy on guy…well, for Vicky and me, it’s the ultimate. Especially when one of them’s you.”
“Please don’t let on I told you all this…Cynthia would kill me.”
“Course not, idiot. And I meant what I said. We’re going to make sure that, from now on, you have a proper, fulfilling, sex life. You won’t have to suffer frustration any longer.”
“Really…?
“Really. You’re going to have the best time you’ve ever had.”
“But Roger…Ray…”
“They’re just our official partners. Part of our social life. That’s all. They’re not ever going to prevent us having a good time. You’re sexier than the two of them put together. They’ll have to live with that.”
“If you say so…”
“I do. And one more thing…”
“Yes?”
“You’re going to be my page-boy at the wedding. Dressed just as you are today. You’ll be a sensation. You’ll grab all the attention - and Roger will be so jealous!”
“But…”
“No arguments. Promise?
“Okay…I promise…”
“Got it!” Vicky had returned. “But Tanya – I had a sneak preview. You’re gonna wet your knickers when you see this, girl!” She replaced Paul’s phone on the table. “You don’t mind us having a copy, do you Paul? Promise we won’t show it to anyone else. Now, how about some more wine?”
-
Chapter 17. Homecoming.
It is unnecessary to relate what transpired during the rest of the afternoon. Suffice it to say, that when Tanya dropped Paul off outside his front gate at ten that evening, he was feeling rather the worse for wear. And he was also a trifle apprehensive about the welcome that was awaiting him.
Cynthia was sitting in the kitchen. She had the sort of expression on her face that women do in those old cartoons where they are waiting for their husband to return from the pub, arms folded and a rolling-pin in one hand.
“You’re late,” she said suspiciously.
“Sorry, darling…we got talking, and…you know how it is…”
“No, I don’t know “how it is”. Why don’t you tell me “how it is”? What have you and Tanya got to talk about till this hour? And what are those stains on your shirt and tie, pray?”
Paul looked at her askance. This was more than annoyance. There was definitely a touch of jealousy there too. She sounded like her mother, who could be just as daunting as the daughter.
“Well, Vicky was there, too. You know what it’s like when two women…”
This was not the right thing to say.
“When two women what? Well? I expected you back hours ago. It won’t do, Paul. Spending all day cavorting with my friends – my friends, mind – getting up to goodness knows what. (Here she placed one finger on the stains, as if wishing she could submit them for forensic analysis.) And you’ve been drinking! I don’t know what you think your position is in this household, but before you go to bed tonight, I’m going to remind you.”
She flexed one arm, wielding an imaginary whip. Except he knew that very soon it wouldn’t be imaginary. He needed to distract her, quickly, and make her feel she was the boss.
“Tanya’s asked me to be page-boy at her wedding!” he blurted. “May I? I’d really like to…if you’d agree…”
Cynthia was somewhat mollified. Her face relaxed a little. There was even the hint of a smile.
“She has, has she? Well, I’ll think about it.” (She was already thinking – thinking what a delicious humiliation it would be.) “You’d need some new clothes, of course…”
“No – Tanya wants me to wear this outfit. I mean, if that would be okay with you…”
She raised her eyebrows. “Really? Maybe. I’ll see.” She smothered a delighted grin. “I’ll talk to her. Now get yourself upstairs and get showered, and put those clothes in the wash basket. I’ll be up later.”
Paul took a quick shower. When he emerged from the bathroom, he could hear Cynthia talking on the phone. Heart pounding, he crept down to the bottom stair and listened.
“…what you got up to today, Tanya. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I have certain rules for him. He needs keeping in line, or… Well if I do, that’s my business. Of course. Yes, I am going to talk to Vicky as well. What? I know…I know…well, listen, let’s not quarrel. Send Roger round here for a day and we’ll be quits – (laughter) – no, just joking. But anyway, he told me about the wedding…yes, a page-boy? That’s a stroke of genius! And you want him in his hot pants! I’ve told him I’ll think about it. Yes. But he’s really desperate…I know! I agree…if you don’t mind him stealing your thunder…hold on a second. I heard a noise…”
Hearing her footsteps approaching, Paul scurried soundlessly back up the stairs and into the bedroom. He was pleased Cynthia was going to let him wear his new outfit to the wedding. “Stealing their thunder” eh? Yeah, he would – specially Roger’s. Roger was one of those suits that thought he was a sharp dresser. Well, he was going to be upstaged this time, and on his own wedding-day!
“Oh, no, it was nothing. Now, as I was saying….” And her voice faded as she returned to the kitchen.
Paul got a good spanking that night, before he went to his sleeping-bag. But it was a non-specific punishment, intended purely to remind him of his place. So Tanya must have kept her mouth shut. He was pleased it looked as though Cynthia was going to let him be a page-boy - page-man would sound better. But it showed that, however she behaved towards him, she was proud of him and didn’t mind him being the centre of attention. He was just dropping off to sleep, feeling quite excited and mentally weighing his wife’s good points with the bad, when Cynthia addressed him. She had been turning over in her mind the possible scenarios that had been played out at Tanya’s that day. She was still smarting from the suspicion that Paul had had some fun with her friends – the sort of fun she would never have allowed him at home. That she herself had spent most of the day in bed with Danny was neither here nor there; given that her husband was a hopeless wimp, she considered such minor dalliances fully justified. She was a woman with needs, after all. But Paul…that was different. She had spent months training him in obedience and self-discipline, and she didn’t want all her hard work undone. So she determined that he would learn a lesson, and had already had an idea for a fitting punishment.
“I don’t know what went on over there today, but whatever it was I’m sure it wasn’t at Tanya’s or Vicky’s instigation. So next weekend you’re going to be here both days, and I’ll make sure you can’t get up to mischief, however much you want to.”
-
Chapter 18. Discovered!
Tanya and Vicky had enjoyed playing with Paul immensely. They knew Cynthia had a firm grip of his sexual activities, but they hadn’t realised just how highly sexed he was. It had created a potentially explosive tension, and they were more than happy to light the fuse, and enjoy the display. A happy hour had been spent with Tanya astride his hips and Vicky astride his head – and vice versa – and he had seemed to enjoy the day as much as they. Tanya in particular had developed quite an affection for him, because his sensuality was balanced by such a sweet naïveté and innocence; but unfortunately, it was those very traits that made it impossible to resist exploiting him, and she could now understand why his relationship with Cynthia had developed in the way it had. Thus, while he had gained two sympathetic and willing sexual partners, he had at the same time tripled the possibilities of humiliation. And Tanya’s wedding was only the first opportunity.
Cynthia went over to Danny’s on Tuesday and Thursday as in the previous week. But Paul didn’t waste the time. On both days, after he’d done his chores, he telephoned Tanya for a chat, and on both days it lasted more than two hours, and on both days it resulted in him having a massive – and quite illicit – orgasm! That girl certainly knew how to talk dirty. It wouldn’t have mattered, had he not, on the Thursday, cut things rather fine and almost been caught in flagrante. They were having a video call, and Tanya, in her playful way, had asked Paul to prop his phone up and then masturbate for her. There was nowhere suitable in the bedroom, so he had sneaked into Cynthia’s boudoir, and positioned it against the mirror on the dressing-table. He told Tanya was he was doing, and she snorted with laughter. For Paul, it added that little bit of spice to the performance. Tanya made a few interesting suggestions about what they should do at their next meeting, which soon had him achingly hard and juicy, and before he could take appropriate precautions she had said something particularly inventive and provoked a spontaneous eruption. He had just sunk to his knees, completely drained, when he heard the front door open, and Cynthia’s voice!
“Paul? Paul! Get down here at once.”
"Tanya! She's back!"
He packed himself away as well as he could, and ran down the stairs, thinking to come back up as soon as he could and clean up. Half way down he remembered his phone was still propped on the dressing-table. He hesitated, but at that moment Cynthia appeared at the foot of the stairs.
“I thought I told you to polish the furniture. You’ve done nothing! Look, there’s still a layer of dust about an inch thick on here!”
Perhaps an inch was a slight exaggeration, thought Paul, but the offence itself was undeniable. He had been so looking forward to talking to Tanya that it had quite slipped his mind. He hung his head in tacit admission.
“What have you been up to, young man? Why are you so flushed? What were you doing upstairs anyway?” Danny had seemed unenthusiastic that evening, hence her early return and her particularly bad mood.
She headed for the stairs.
“No! Cynthia, no! You mustn’t. I…”
“What do you mean, I mustn’t? What have you been doing?”
She was already on the stairs.
“No, I…I…” he thought desperately. “I got you a present! It’s in the bedroom. You mustn’t see it till it’s wrapped!”
“I see… Well, don’t worry. I’ll close my eyes. I need to go to my boudoir and take my makeup off.”
“No!” he almost screamed, grabbing her arm. “You can’t! It’s in there, see?”
“In there? You know very well you’re not allowed in there. Now let go of me. Whatever is the matter with you tonight?”
Paul knew it was hopeless. He turned, considered the broom cupboard, but then opted for the open air. As he headed for the back door, he heard a scream from upstairs, followed by and angry shout: “Paul? Come here! Come here at once!” But he was already out of the back door and heading down the garden. The key was kept on a brick beneath the shed. He grabbed it, fumbled with the lock with trembling hands, and let himself in. At least it was dry in here. He locked the door from the inside, retreated to the far wall, and squeezed himself in between some rolls of carpet, muttering all the while, “shit! Shit! This is all Tanya’s fault!”
Upstairs, meanwhile, Cynthia was surveying the mess. She stared in horror at the state of her private things, her makeup, her framed photos, even her silk scarf which had been neatly folded on the adjacent chair. There was spunk in her face cream, spunk on her hairbrush, and more spunk on the carpet. A stream it was dripping stickily from the bottom of the mirror. And there was his phone. She picked it up with a tissue, and checked the last call. Tanya! How long? An hour and twenty-two minutes? She was about to ring her and tell her what she thought of her, but even as her finger hovered over the button, she had a change of heart, or at least, a change of plan. She stood still, thinking, then, with a slow nod and a compression of her lips, replaced the phone.
She went downstairs. She guessed where he would be hiding. She went down to the shed and knocked at the door. “Paul?” No reply. She checked the brick. No key. He was in there. “Paul! I know you’re there. If you come out now, and clean up your mess, you’ll get six strokes of the whip and we’ll say no more. You have one minute. If you stay hiding in there, I’ll finally do everything I’ve ever threatened you with. Forty-five seconds.”
It didn’t take Paul long to decide. Just as the minute was up, the door opened and he emerged. Cynthia put her hands on her hips. He flinched, expecting a blow. But it didn’t come.
“What am I going to do with you? What a naughty, naughty boy you are. Now upstairs, and get that disgusting mess cleaned up.”
She followed him up. All the while he was thinking, “Did she look at the phone? Please, no…”
Imagine his relief when he saw the phone where he had left it. The first thing he did was to pick it up and reach for a tissue.
“Uh-uh. Tongue, please. These are your bodily fluids, and they can go right back where they came from.”
“Yes, Cynthia.”
“So you were filming yourself, too, I see? Going to show it to your mates, were you?” She had decided not to let on she knew about Tanya.
She stood and watched till she was satisfied he could do no more with his tongue. She even made him lick her face cream. Then she allowed him a cloth and withdrew to the kitchen to make herself a coffee.
“Report to me when you’re done,” she called up the stairs. “And bring my whip down, would you?”
While she was waiting, she called Tanya. It took her a long time to answer the phone.
“H-hello?” came the nervous greeting.
“Tanya. Hi. How are you darling? I’m just ringing you to tell you the funniest thing. I came home a bit early and guess what? Well, you won’t guess.”
“W-what?”
“Paul. He’d wanked off in my boudoir. Slime everywhere! Truly! And filming himself too, by the look of it.”
“No!”
“Yes! So there you are. Now you see the sort of thing I have to put up with from him. Do you blame me for taking him in hand?”
“No, of course not, Cynthia. What a little pervert! I’m not surprised at all.” Tanya’s voice was flooded with relief. Cynthia smiled to herself. She wasn’t really angry with Tanya, but she was already planning how to prank her back.
“Anyway,” Tanya continued, “wait till the wedding. I can’t wait to see the reaction when we walk into church with him holding my train!”
There Cynthia could agree with her. “Neither can I, darling.”
“I’m arranging our hen night for the Thursday. Okay with you?”
“Perfect. Should I bring Paul? As a girl, of course?”
“Oh, please do! That would be great. I’ve booked a super floor-show – right up his street!”
“Really? You must tell me about it. Sorry, gotta go. It’s time for his punishment.”
Paul reluctantly entered the kitchen, sheepish and shamefaced. He held Cynthia’s whip in his hand.
“Good boy. Over the chair, please.”
It was only six strokes, but the hardest she had ever administered. Afterwards they sat on the sofa, his head resting on her breast. He sobbed quietly, while she stroked his head.
“There, there, Paul. It’s all over now. But no more wanking in my boudoir, okay?”
“Yes, Cynthia. I promise. I’m sorry…”
Cynthia smiled to herself. So he liked being in the garden, did he? She really must order that kennel...
-
Chapter 19. The New Maid.
Cynthia thought she’d discovered why Danny’s interest seemed to be waning a little. He’d had such a good time with Paul in the room, that after that he was finding straight sex a little boring. She deduced this from his occasional, apparently casual, enquiries about Paul, or about what she had in mind for Paul. She was by no means egotistical, and at this stage of their relationship wanted only to make him happy. So she arranged a little treat for the two of them that very weekend.
She asked Danny to come on Saturday and stay over. She was non-committal about whether Paul was going to be home. Then, on Friday night, she summoned her husband to the lounge.
“Paul, darling, Danny’s coming over tomorrow, and I thought it would be nice if we gave him a little surprise. So I want you to wear a maid’s costume this weekend, and minister to his every need.”
“I see. Just a maid’s costume?”
“Well, you know, he did so like you in your hood, didn’t he? It would go so well, don’t you think?”
Paul sighed. “Please, Cynthia, do I have to be a sex doll again? Apart from anything else, it’s not very comfortable having my mouth held open like that the whole time. It’s not nice.”
Is that the only objection he can come up with? thought Cynthia. Well, well.
“Well as long as you’re going to be an obedient little boy….”
“Yes, all right. I promise. Anything to escape that.”
“Well, in that case we can dispense with the gag. You can have the standard mouth.”
“Standard mouth? What’s that, then?”
“I’ll show you.”
She disappeared upstairs and returned with the hood, and a small red plastic ring. She sat down next to him again.
“Right, so this is what comes with it. Feel.”
She passed him the ring. It was made of flexible red plastic, about two inches in diameter, and about a quarter of an inch thick. Running around the outside was a groove. He passed it back. She stretched open the small mouth aperture of the hood, and inserted it, so that the edges of the mouth opening slotted into the groove.
“See? You’ll find that much more comfortable, without losing that nice dolly look.”
Paul looked at it doubtfully. “Thanks very much,” he said, sarcastically. And the maid’s uniform?”
“It’s hanging in your wardrobe. I think you’re going to like it, darling. Why don’t you go try it on, and come and show me?”
Paul trudged upstairs. He felt he had given up fighting her. It was easier just to go along with it all. Then she would be nicer to him, and he could escape those horrible whippings. He would do anything she told him, just so long as he could go see Tanya and Vicky from time to time, and get some real sex. And he didn’t want to jeopardise his role at Tanya’s wedding by arguing. He even imagined he might meet some other nice girl there, impressed with his cute appearance, and develop yet another relationship on the side.
He opened his wardrobe. There it was. Not exactly what he had imagined. He had envisaged something long and formal, in heavy black cotton, with a full-length apron. This wasn’t quite like that. Pink latex, knee-length flared skirt, very high collar with white frilling around the neck, long sleeves with white frilling around the wrists, little white apron, also frilled. And in the apron pocket, short plain pink latex gloves. No cap? Ah yes, there on the floor. Just a latex-covered Alice band, frilled both sides to match the uniform, lying on top of a new blonde wig. He sighed.
“Found it?” Cynthia called from below.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Come on then. Hurry up and get changed. I’m dying to see it on you. And bring the wig and cap, please.”
He changed, checked himself in the mirror, grabbed the wig and band, and descended. Cynthia was waiting expectantly.
“Oh, that’s beautiful,” she cooed, jumping up and picking at it till she was satisfied it looked its best. “Fits you perfectly. Shall we try it with the hood?”
She made him kneel, and forced the hood over his head. It went on a little more easily this time.
“Yes. It goes very well.” She was fiddling with the neck. “It tucks in under the collar so neatly, it looks as if you’re really just made of rubber!” Paul picked up the Alice band. “Wait till I’ve got your wig on, dear…”
The wig was short and sexy. Cynthia slid it over the hood. It fitted snugly.
“Oh, now that looks really cool!” she enthused, pushing the Alice band into place. “Let’s just see what you look like with these on…” She snapped his eye-cups on. “Yes, they go very well with the hair…”
“Are we finished now?” he asked, standing up.
Cynthia ignored the remark. “Now, I didn’t tell you, but I bought you some natural latex stockings too. I’ll have to shave your legs – not that you’ve got much hair there – and then, with your little pink gloves, you’ll look like a full-on rubber doll. There won’t be an inch of Paul to be seen! Apart from a little glimpse of your lips behind the mouth hole, of course. Danny’s going to be thrilled!”
Paul didn’t know quite what he felt about his new outfit. It wasn’t any worse than anything else he had been made to wear, it was comfortable, and he felt quite insulated from everything, safe and anonymous. He removed one eye-cup and stared at himself in the mirror over the fireplace. The blank doll-face stared back at him. The latex rippled as he moved. The new wig looked not unlike Tanya’s hair. He was relieved he didn’t have to wear that awful gag again.
“What will I have to do, Cynthia?”
“Oh, nothing too arduous. Make drinks for us…hand them to us politely…conduct yourself like a maid should. Don’t worry, I’ll give you some instruction, and there’s a some very good videos you should study, all about duties and deportment…”
She had expected more opposition. Maybe all the training was really paying off at last. She looked him up and down, feeling satisfied and quite proud of herself. Maybe he was going to turn out just like she had dreamed. A sweet little man-doll, obedient and eager to please, who would do anything, go anywhere, endure any humiliation, and be her lifelong slave and plaything!
-
Chapter 20. In Service.
When Danny rang the doorbell that Saturday morning, it was answered by the sweetest little latex maid doll he could ever have imagined. He stood there a while, staring.
“Pleath come in, thir,” begged Paul, his pale eyes blinking behind their oval apertures, and looking nervously up and down the road, “madam is expecting you.”
Danny came in, but with a big smile on his face, and seemingly unable to take his eyes of the vision that had confronted him. Paul closed the door and turned to show him into the lounge, but he stopped him, taking his arm and turning him around for inspection. He gave the bodice a familiar tug, testing the stretchiness of the latex.
“Well, well, Pauline. I never expected such a treat as this! No, stand still, missy. I haven’t finished my inspection yet.”
Cynthia had made a minor but necessary adjustment to Pauline’s hood. She had extracted the little plugs embedded in the ear-cups, allowing her to hear, at least, after a fashion. It would hardly have been reasonable to expect a maid to perform her duties properly when she couldn’t understand her instructions, and she didn’t fancy having to attach the mike for every little order. But in any case, he had already received his instructions for the day, long before Danny arrived. He had protested, of course, but when Cynthia first produced his gag, and then sat down at the laptop and opened the file marked “Paul”, he had capitulated at once.
“Let me see…” He reached down and slowly lifted the hem of Pauline’s dress, revealing a pair of short-legged pink latex knickers, with the obligatory white frilling. Her natural latex stockings, secured beneath the knickers with a matching suspender belt, disappeared under the legs, leaving not an inch of her flesh uncovered. Danny sighed. “Perfect in every detail, aren’t you, Pauline? Cynthia promised me a surprise. But I hadn’t expected anything quite so delightful….”
“So you approve?” Cynthia had appeared at the kitchen door.
“Very much.”
“I thought you would. Pauline is here to serve you, darling. She is well-trained, obedient, and eager to please. I have spent the last few days…ah…impressing on her the importance of total submissiveness. I think she has learned her lessons well, but if you find anything amiss, please inform me and I shall administer the necessary corrective. Now, come in. Lunch is ready, and Pauline will serve it in the lounge.”
They sat on the sofa together, while Paul waited on them, carrying in the dishes and laying them politely down on the coffee-table, placing their glasses carefully, and standing to one side, holding the wine bottle, whilst they ate and chatted. When they wanted a top-up, they simply indicated their glasses with a motion of the hand, and he dutifully stepped forward to oblige. He was very careful not to make any mistakes. He knew what the consequences would be.
After they had finished, he began to clear away.
“We’ll keep our glasses, Pauline. We’re going upstairs. Wipe the table, do the washing up, and then come up.”
It took him about fifteen minutes to tidy up and put everything away. Then, with a sigh, he ascended the stairs. He knocked on the bedroom door.
“Enter.”
Danny and Cynthia were lying, fully-clothed, on the bed.
“Where have you been, Pauline? Poor Danny, making him wait all this time, and him so eager to get on with it…” She pointed to the bulge in Danny’s jeans. “So, if you wouldn’t mind…?
Paul knew what was required. He followed the script to the letter. The consequences of disobedience were unthinkable.
“Yeth, mith,” he lisped, giving each of them a quick curtsey. Then, kneeling by the side of the bed, he politely unzipped Danny’s jeans, releasing his swelling manhood. He was grateful his burning cheeks were hidden under the blank rubber hood, and his mouth merely a surprised-looking red circle. Danny sighed. Wrapping the fingers of one hand around the base, he used he other to play with the head, sliding the foreskin back and forth until little rivulets of clear juice began to ooze forth, making the tips of his rubber-sheathed fingers slippery. It took only moments for Danny to attain a hard erection. As she watched the process, the expression of satisfied amusement on Cynthia’s face morphed into something more lascivious. She slipped off the bed and began to undress.
“Pauline, undress Danny please, quickly. And let go of his prick, if you don’t mind! Remember that’s my [/i]property - you’re merely the assistant.”
“Yeth, mith,” repeated Paul, relinquishing his grip on Danny’s quivering organ, somewhat, it seemed, to Danny's disappointment.
By the time Danny was naked, Cynthia had resumed her former position. She was now lying on her back next to Danny.
“You know what to do,” she snapped, lying back, opening her legs, and taking her lover in hand. Obediently, Paul’s dipped his head into the familiar position, his tongue lapping at his mistress’s pussy. She was already very wet. Having her husband not only present, but taking an active part in her lovemaking, seemed to have added yet another dimension to her arousal.
“Oh my god. Yes…yes, that’s right, you little bitch,” she hissed. “God, Danny, you’re hard today. Is it…her? I bet it is, you pervert. I bet you’d love to…” Her voice sank to a whisper. Whatever she had described, Danny’s ecstatic groan suggested he would…
“I want you in me,” she blurted suddenly, letting go of him and rolling over. She positioned herself on all fours, gripping the headboard of the bed.
“Pauline, help him. Guide him in. And stay there, won’t you? I want you to see how a real man makes love!”
-
Chapter 21. Bedside Manners.
Paul rose to his feet, and stood to one side. He hesitated. Danny thought for one moment he could detect rebelliousness in his eyes, though it was difficult to tell, not being able to see any other part of his face.
“Come on then, Pauline,” he grinned, positioning himself behind Cynthia. “Do as your mistress tells you!”
Gingerly, Paul wrapped his fingers around Danny’s pen-is, and prepared to guide it into his wife. It was hard, hot, and heavy. Danny shifted forward slightly, placing his hands on Cynthia’s rump, and pushed forward. Cynthia was open and glistening, and Paul guided the head in. It entered with a faint squelch, and a quiet sigh from its recipient. Having performed his allotted task, Paul removed his hand and retreated to the middle of the room. Cynthia turned her head slightly and frowned.
“Not there, Pauline. Stand by the side of the bed, please. I may need you.”
He advanced.
“That’s better. Now, Danny…”
But Danny needed no second bidding. Gripping two handfuls of Cynthia’s flesh, he thrust forward, burying himself deep inside her. She let out a cry of pleasure, and pushed back against him. He remained unmoving for several seconds, his eyes closed with ecstasy. Then he drew back, and began to thrust into her with the steady regularity of a metronome, his belly slapping loudly against her buttocks, and Cynthia emitting a little yelp, at each stroke.
Paul knew he should be disgusted, but he was unable to tear his eyes away, and worse – he could feel his own manhood swelling inside his latex knickers. He slipped one hand surreptitiously under his skirt, perhaps in an attempt to arrest its dilation, but Cynthia must have had half an eye on him.
“Pauline! Stop that please!”
“I wasn’t….”
“I’m pleased to hear…ah!...it. Just stand….oh, god!...still and be…oh!...ready for further…(gasp)…instructions!”
He stood and watched, his knickers taut over his erect pen-is. Danny seemed to possess endless energy – and self-control – but eventually he spoke.
“Cynthia…I’m gonna c-um quite soon…I’ll put on a condom.”
“Pauline will do it. Pauline – get a condom from the side, would you? You know what to do.”
Paul brought a condom from the supply on the side table. Fair enough. They didn’t want any accidents. Cynthia refused to wear a diaphragm, nor did she like to take oral birth control – in which choices Paul had always supported her. He tore open the packet. The condom was pink. Danny slowly withdrew from his lover, and swivelled himself slightly towards Paul, his quivering organ gleaming with Cynthia’s juices. Paul was trembling slightly as he took the condom by its teat, placed at against the head of Danny’s slippery pen-is, and began to roll it down the thick shaft. Danny smiled.
“Mmm, that’s nice, Pauline. Take your time…”
“Behave yourself, Danny,” laughed Cynthia. “keep your hands off my maid, if you don’t mind.”
“I’m not touching her. It’s she who’s got her hands on me!”
Paul quickly finished and stood back. But Danny wasn’t satisfied.
“Come on, Pauline, finish the job. Guide it in, girl!”
Biting his lip, Paul complied, and soon Danny had resumed his thrusting, with even greater enthusiasm than before. Cynthia gripped the headboard white-knuckled, her head bobbing with every thrust.
“P-Pauline,” she gasped, “quick – play with my clit!”
Paul was only too pleased to have something to distract him. His knickers were slippery with his own secretions, and it wouldn’t have taken much to induce a spontaneous orgasm. He stepped forward, and, reaching under his wife’s belly, began to massage her slippery clitoris with the tip of one finger, while Danny banged away determinedly from behind. The reaction was sudden and explosive. Cynthia gave a scream of pleasure, and was seized with a series of violent convulsions, whilst Danny threw back his head and exhaled loudly. Paul stuck to his task – they all did – until the lovers, totally spent, collapsed side by side on the bed. Paul himself was left standing next to them, shaking with frustration. After a while, Cynthia turned her head and smiled at him. He was plainly in a state, his erection just lifting the front of his little skirt, but she was implacable.
“Go and bring us a couple of glasses of wine, there’s a love. White. It’s in the fridge. And no playing with yourself. Understood?”
He paused. “Yeth, Cynthia.”
“Good girl. Well, off you go, then.”
-
Chapter 22. A Cookery Lesson.
When he returned, carrying the glasses on a little tray, Cynthia had propped herself up on the pillows. Danny was lying face down next to her. He put the tray down on the bedside cabinet.
“Thank you, Pauline. Now, take this, clip the end, and put it in the fridge.”
She held up the pink condom, at least a third full with Danny’s sperm. He took it. It was heavy, the sperm still warm. He went downstairs again, clipped the mouth with a pink food-bag clip, and put it in the fridge, in the plastic box placed there for the purpose. He sighed.
“And come back up, please,” his wife called from above. He actually smoothed his little apron and adjusted his Alice band before ascending the stairs. His erection had subsided, though his latex knickers felt slimy and unpleasant. He presented himself at the bedside.
“Good girl.” She peered at him. “What’s that on your stockings?” he looked down. His juices had leaked from one leg of his knickers and trickled down his leg. His legs brushing together had generated a sticky froth on the insides of his thighs.
“You haven’t been…?”
“No, mith, I thwear! I haven’t! It’th jutht…you know.”
“I see.” She smirked. “I think my hubby enjoyed our little show, darling.”
Danny laughed. She turned to him.
“Are you ready for another? I’m sure Pauline is…”
Paul had to partake in two more sessions that day. In the second, he was required to lie underneath his wife, with his feet apart and pressed against the headboard, and use his tongue on her clitoris, while the lovers’ combined juices trickled into his mouth, and Danny’s balls buffeted his head. Cynthia thoughtfully declined to touch his rigid organ, which seemed to be trying to burst out of his latex knickers a few inches in front of her nose. When they were finally satisfied, he was aching with frustration, and two more filled condoms had been added to the store. Whilst the lovers recovered, Paul was sent down to lay the table for supper, and put another bottle of wine in the fridge. It was a good half hour before they descended, having showered and changed into clean clothes. They looked and felt quite fresh, whereas poor Paul was all hot and bothered.
“I’ll make supper,” smiled Cynthia. You two can go and relax in the lounge.”
The boys sat together on the sofa, Danny complementing Paul on his outfit.
“That’s a really cute uniform, Pauline. I love the way the rubber crinkles and gleams. It's very sexy.”
The blank, round-mouthed doll-face looked back at him. He lifted Paul’s skirt a few inches.
“And I love the matching knickers. And the stockings! You’re a totally rubber doll, aren’t you?
“I hope you’re not messing with the maid, Danny,” came Cynthia’s voice from the kitchen.
“No darling. Just admiring her beautiful outfit,” he added, staring at Paul’s erection. You obviously like it too, don’t you Pauline?”
Paul’s overwrought state was beginning to have an effect on Danny, and he was experiencing renewed stirrings. Paul’s petite form encased in latex and robbed of sexual identity was confusing, but exciting. And Paul found Danny’s powerful sexual presence equally ambiguous. Danny thought he’d better retire to the kitchen, before his instincts took over, so he left Paul on the sofa and wandered over to where Cynthia was working at the counter. A saucepan was simmering on the stove.
“What are we having, darling?”
“Pasta, followed by chocolate ice-cream.”
“Nice. What sort?”
“Conchiglie. We’ve got a nice tomato sauce with ours.”
He frowned. “What are you doing with those?”
Cynthia had taken the box of filled condoms from the fridge. She decanted the contents equally into two bowls.
“Just making a couple of sauces for the maid.”
Danny laughed disbelievingly. “Yeah?”
“Yes.”
To each bowl she added a couple of spoonfuls of cream. The first she poured into a saucepan and added seasoning and a little grated cheese. She warmed it, whisking at the same time, till the cheese was dissolved, producing a thick, glossy sauce.
“There. That’s for her pasta. Lucky girl.”
“And the other one?”
“Watch.”
She added an egg white and a spoonful of condensed milk, and then whipped it up into a thick creamy topping, and put it in the fridge.
“That’s for her dessert. She already has a taste for it. When she gets addicted, I should watch out if I were you!”
She pinched his bottom.
At supper, Danny watched Paul as he tucked into his food. He seemed particularly to enjoy his chocolate ice-cream and topping. Cynthia glanced at Danny, winked and smiled. Danny looked a little shocked. But he remembered the avidity with which Paul had swallowed his c-um on the previous occasion, and he felt less surprised. Less surprised, but more aroused. He shifted in his chair, and blushed slightly at his own feelings. Cynthia gave him a look as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. But he hoped she didn’t.
-
Chapter 23. Another Conquest.
“Did you enjoy your supper, Pauline?” asked Cynthia, as if talking to a child.
“Yeth, mith. Thank you, mith.”
“I hope you liked the special sauces I made for you.”
“Yeth, mith, they were nithe…” He glanced shyly at Danny.
“You’ve still got some on your lips.” There were still traces of the dessert cream around the red circle of his mouth. She leant over, carefully scooped it up on her finger, and popped it in his mouth. He suc-ked it clean.
“Thank you, mith…”
Cynthia allowed herself a quick smile of satisfaction. All the training was paying off. Paul was becoming more and more compliant, and more and more willing – even eager – to assume his female persona. He definitely fell very easily into the character of Pauline, and it was obvious he was much happier and more relaxed in girls’ clothes. Moreover, he had become so accustomed to the taste of sperm that now he regarded it as a treat, which would be a great asset to him as his transition proceeded. But that was not all. Cynthia was only now discovering the full extent of her own controlling nature. Paul by himself was not enough. She wanted Danny under her thumb as well! She already had a rather interesting video of him, and if she could push him just a little further… She licked her lips. The idea of being mistress to two slave boys certainly appealed. It opened up all sorts of possibilities, all sorts of scenarios. She’d be the envy of her friends. She could even pimp them out…. Her eyes twinkled at the prospect.
“And do you like being my maid, darling?”
“Yeth…” he added, with a hint of reluctance on his tone.
“Do you have a problem with it?”
“No, mith. Of course not, mith.” He paused. “It’th jutht that…”
“Yes?”
It’th just…?”
“Yes? Come on, spit it out. Tell me. I don’t mind if you have a problem. You’re still just training, after all. Don’t be shy…”
“Thometimes…”
“Yes?”
“Thometimes I feel…jealous. When you’re having thuch fun, and I’m all thtiff and juicy, and I can’t do anything…”
“Oh, you poor thing! How selfish of us! Danny, we must include Pauline more in our games. Don’t you agree?”
Danny was slightly taken aback at being addressed directly on the subject. “Well…yes, of course…I guess…”
“So Pauline…did you enjoy putting on Danny’s condom/”
Paul looked down, but nodded almost imperceptibly.
“And did you like when he filled it up like that?”
He was still for a moment. Then another little nod.
“…Knowing it was all for you…?”
He looked up at her.
“Would you like it if he was your boyfriend?” He stayed watching her, saying nothing. “If he were, you know what you’d have to do? You know what boys like better than anything?” She paused, then whispered, “best of all, they like it when girls suc-k their pricks!”
“Thuck their…prickth?”
“Yes. Just like you did the other day. When you swallowed Danny’s c-um.”
Danny stared at Cynthia. Paul stared at Danny. Cynthia carried on oblivious.
“I think…I know you liked that. I’m sure Danny liked it. So if you want…you can do it. And you can masturbate while you do it. Or maybe, Danny…? Maybe, if you asked him very politely, he would…help you…”
Now the two men were both staring at Cynthia. Cynthia smiled a smug smile. She could almost feel the sexual tension, and she knew that, under the dining-table, there were two very hard pricks declaring an undeniable affirmative.
At first, Danny tried to turn the suggestion into a joke.
“Yeah..haha…right. Yeah…you know…you better watch it, Pauline, or you’ll find yours truly here gives you the biggest mouth fuc-k you’ve ever had! Haha!”
“No dear, please don’t be crude. That’s not you. Why don’t you let Pauline suc-k you nicely? You know she wants to, and she’s been looking after your needs all day. Give something back for once. Yes?”
Danny had turned quite red. The mere thought was making him rigid. His heart was beating faster, and he was breathing quickly. He stared at the pretty rubber doll sitting opposite him.
“Er, I don’t think….
“Oh, come on. Don’t be a wimp. You know you want to.”
She rose from the table. Paul pushed back his chair and followed suit. Danny hesitated.
“Well? Are you coming?”
Danny was torn. He wanted to do it, but his brain hadn’t yet been entirely ousted by his pen-is.
“W-wait a minute…” He was feeling pressurised. What was she up to? What were her motives?
“I’m not sure it would be a good idea,” he said, suspiciously.
“Well dear, you seemed happy to do it last week. Why the change of heart?”
“That was different. It was just a bit of fun. I mean, she was there…and you were tired…it was natural…” He was feeling frightened now. This was not what he had signed up for. Sex with another bloke while she looked on!
“No. I think I should be going. I told my mates…”
“You said you’d be back tomorrow. That’s what you told me.”
“And I have some things to do.” He stood up, his erection wilting, and headed for the hallway.
“I’ll get my coat…”
“Oh, all right then, spoilsport. But I think you should see this before you go….”
“See what?”
She handed him her phone. The video had started. His watched, eyes widening.
“Did you take this?”
“Yes, dear. It really came out much better than I had expected. Quite good definition, isn’t it?” she added, craning round admiringly. “I’ve got several copies all ready on flash drives…let me see…” She counted them off on her fingers. “One for the post-room, one for the typing pool – those girls are crazy about you, aren’t they? – one for your mates, one for…”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Oh, I would, darling. I would. Just give me an excuse….”
He stared, speechless. After a moment he spoke.
“What do you want?”
“I’ve told you. Now don’t be a silly. Put your coat back and come upstairs. I’ve got a new video camera specially for the occasion. This one’s going to be really professional…”