With this tale however, I wanted to examine something different. What would it be like for a straight guy to have to interact as a sexual submissive with another straight guy? I've never done the cuckolding scene and don't understand it much either. So, "Nervous" here is a bit of exploration of both those aspects.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nervous
What happens when the mistress and key holder of a heterosexual cuckolded sissy winds up submitting to another man? She now has a master. And therefore, so to does the sissy. If that master is straight then there shouldn't be any need for the sissy to ever be nervous.
Well, perhaps.
But perhaps not...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He made me nervous.
He always makes me nervous. And
that, honestly, deep down inside of me, turns me on. It’s no small part of why I do all of
this. It’s no small part of who I am.
So it’s no small part of why I’m kneeling here in my bedroom
and why he’s standing there before me.
Standing there and making me nervous and afraid and embarrassed and…
turned on.
It’s a times like these when I question just why it is that
I’m into all this “sissy play” to begin with.
I’m a straight man. I’ve no
interest in having sex with other men.
Even with other sissies. Oh, I
enjoy being around other “gurls” when we’re all en femme – but always and only
when our ladies are there in charge. In
charge of me and in charge of the other guys dressed up in their sissy outfits. I’m not even attracted to the shemales or the
actual transgendered. I can admire their
dedication to pursuing their fetish and how they’ve transformed their bodies. And I truly love how utterly feminine some of
them have been able to become as a result.
But… they’re still guys. Even if
their little willies can no longer get hard thanks to all the Spiro and Estra
and whatever other hormones they’ve taken to become so wonderfully gurly.
No, I’m a fully hetero man and even though I’ve gone to great,
great lengths to be as feminine as I can be and look as sexually alluring as I
can, I’m still only interested in actual women when it comes to my sexual
playmates.
That doesn’t stop me from being nervous when he’s
around. Nervous and turned on.
Part of it is how effortlessly he’s now ruling not only me
but also my partner, Claire. We’ve been
together for years now and she is my partner, my lover, my best friend and my
Mistress. She truly “gets me” and my
coming out to her – coming out as a crossdresser – actually brought us
closer. I was horrified that it might not
but, thankfully, it didn’t. She actually
enjoyed having a “life sized Barbie doll” to dress up and play with. And when she discovered just how submissive I
get when dressed she realized it turned her on.
I couldn’t believe how lucky I was with that and I became
even more devoted to her than ever before.
She loved that to. It didn’t
surprise me then, when she told me of her fantasies of cuckolding me. I was afraid of that even as I’d had those
fantasies too. I didn’t want to lose
her. It was scary and a major turn-on
for us both when we began exploring that sort of play. The more we explored, the more comfortable
and secure we both got with it and the further we were able to go with it.
I’m now caged 24/7 and she became my key holder. I never leave the house without wearing my
panties and nylons under my regular “boy drag” clothes. My toenails are always manicured and polished
to perfection. I’ve not a hair on my
body from my neck down. At home on the
weekends it’s almost always one of several maids outfits for me. Especially when she’s entertaining some of
the other dominas we’ve befriended.
I love that. I
learned to also love when she has me dress up as her maid and servant when she
brought another man into our house as her lover. The humiliation of that was burning. And it made my cock painfully hard in its
chastity cage. My panties were soaking
from all the precum I was oozing from it.
We were quite careful in choosing who, exactly, she brought home. The guys were all carefully vetted by our
friends in the kink community from the parties we’d been to. No strangers off the street, thank you very
much.
This worked out pretty well, for the most part. The guys we chose got quite the deal. They got to play the role of the bull and get
some nice hard sex with my girl while I waited on them hand and foot. Some of the guys clearly wanted to be in my
position and hoped that my Mistress would choose them for it. Chose them over me. Those guys never got invited back. And my gratitude to my Mistress for that only
deepened my devotion, deepened my submission, and deepened my love for
her. So we kept on enjoying our mutual
fetish.
Then we met Michael.
He was quite the impressive specimen. Tall, well muscled, handsome, and had a
radiantly dominant personality. He was
truly an “alpha male” and Claire couldn’t take her eyes off of him at that
party. I was in fully sissy mode at that
event and happily fulfilled my role of tending to my Mistress’s needs. She was the one who approached him – with me
in tow at the end of her leash attached to my chastity cage.
She later told me that she originally just intended chatting
with him to make me squirm and put me in my place that evening. That may have been her intent but it wasn’t
Michael’s. Turns out my Mistress had
caught his eye as well – and not out of any desire to submit to her or even to
just get a good fuck that evening.
One thing led to another and we were all soon back at our
place and he was bedding my lady in our bed.
It was the “usual” sort of cuckolding scene except that it wasn’t. He was in charge, not her. In all the previous times it was my lover who
was in command both of me and of the men she’d brought into our home. Not this time. Not with Michael. Not at all.
And Claire loved it.
His dominance and control was just so damn effortless on his
part. Nothing arrogant or crass. Just simply there as if it were preordained
and natural. He was magnetic that
way. I felt it to and was both turned on
and appalled by it. I was confident in
the trust and depth of my relationship with my Mistress that I shouldn’t have
worried that he might be the one to get between it all. But I was worried and I was afraid.
And I was turned on.
And he knew it.
And she knew it.
Soon enough he became a regular guest in our home. At least once a month, to start with. Then every other weekend. Then every weekend. Then he moved in. And I was moved to our guest bedroom. I still shared the bed with my Mistress but
only when Michael is away on one of his frequent business trips. In the meantime he came to rule our
household. And my Mistress loved it.
She reveled in how effortlessly he directed her and
controlled her.
He controlled me as well.
But it was through her. He too
was completely hetero. I hoped. There was never anything sexual in his
control. Well, nothing direct.
He was the one who ordered me to clean her pussy out after
he was done coming inside my lover. He
had her clean his cock off with her tongue.
And then ordered her to give me a nice deep French kiss so that I could
“clean her tongue” as well. She loved
that and I, honestly, loved how controlling he was. Even as the taste of his cum filled my mouth
as I sucked it off of Claire’s tongue.
Even as I was still nervous about how far he’d go.
As time passed, he began getting even more kinky with my
lady. And she enjoyed that very, very
much. Not only is she now wearing his
collar she’s also now been shown around in public as his submissive. This, while
she’s holding my leash at the same parties.
It’s an odd dynamic and I actually enjoy being the “submissive’s
submissive.” The fear that I might lose
her to this powerful dominant man is turn on for me. And it frightens me at the same time.
My nervousness only worsened when he announced he wanted to
use my lover, my Mistress, as his ponygirl.
That was a new sort of play she and I had never gotten in to. I always found it too objectifying and Claire
never had an interest in doing it with me anyway. With Michael however, she was only too eager
to take that bit into her pretty mouth and let him hold her reins.
That’s why I’m kneeling here and am so nervous now. She’s wearing her newest ponygirl
outfit. It’s a clear latex catsuit thing
that shows her lovely curves in a wonderful way. I’ve just spent the last few minutes helping
her into the outfit and then shining the latex up for her. And shining it for him as he’s directed me
where to apply the polish and go back over where I might’ve “missed.” Then I helped her into her harness. I didn’t do the tail part however. That is for him and that’s how I wound up on
my knees.
He ordered me to them as he inserted the horse tailed butt
plug into place. Anything sexual like
that with her is now his to enjoy, not mine.
Fully plugged, he smacked my Mistress on her butt and sent her
scampering to finish putting the makeup on her face.
Then he leaned back on the edge of our bed and waited. And that’s when the nervousness began to
escalate in me.
He’s there in his riding outfit and is filling it out
wonderfully. His riding breeches are
skin tight and only show just how powerful his legs are and how gorgeous an ass
he has. I’ve gotten quite familiar with
that sight as I’ve gotten to see it many a time flexing as he plows his cock
deep into my lover on our bed while I stand at the foot of that bed, shackled,
gagged, caged, in my heels, nylons, lace gloves, and maid’s outfit holding a
glass of water and a towel for him.
His riding outfit jacket is tightly tailored to his muscular
physique. It must be quite sturdily made
as it hasn’t shredded itself despite his muscles rippling beneath it. He’s already got his leather gloves on and is
idly toying with a crop in his hands.
More than anything however, are his boots. His English riding boots. They are brilliantly shiny – as they should
be since it is one of my jobs to keep them so – and only emphasize how tall he
is and how powerful his legs are.
Looking up at them from my kneeling position makes them seem impossibly
long and him seem impossibly tall. Tall
and commanding and utterly dominant. The
bulge in those breeches he’s wearing seems to get bigger the more I glance at
it.
It’s times like this where my nervousness truly is
unnerving. I’m a straight heterosexual
male who has no interest in other men.
Yet I can only think of throwing myself onto those boots of his and
worshipping them. Worshipping them as
only is proper for a sissy cuckold to worship the superior Alpha male that is
about to ride and mount his lover.
I quickly glance up and make the mistake of looking at him
directly. He’s looking down at me and he
clearly knows what’s going on in my head.
He clearly sees the confusion and the fear and the attraction
there. A smile forms on his handsome
face. And my nervousness turns into a
cold sweat as a crimson blush flows across my face.
“Becka!” he calls out to my Mistress using her pony name,
“come here, now!” He orders in that resonantly commanding voice of his.
My Mistress, my lover, my partner – and his collared
submissive and objectified ponygirl – eagerly and quickly answer’s her Master’s
command by trotting herself into our bedroom.
She had just gotten her makeup finished and her headstall on
but not yet fully buckled. It’s
remaining straps hung loose as she stood before her Master.
I loved how happy and turned on she looked and quickly
brought my eyes down and hoped the moment was broken to the point of being soon
forgotten. I was wrong.
“Ah, my Becka. My
pretty pony Becka. Your headstall isn’t
fully on yet” he gently chided her. “Let
me finish that for you.” Even wearing
his gloves he was deftly able to secure the last of the straps into their
buckles and then clipped the reins to the rings on either side of the bit in
her mouth.
Usually he then leads his ponygirl out into the backyard of
our house to put her through her paces with the various dressage routines he’s
worked up for her. She’s gotten quite
adept at prancing around in so very precise and so very a sexy manner under his
commands. Once he’s satisfied with his
ponygirl’s progress in her training he sets her to a lunge line to cool her
down before brushing her down and then coming inside. That’s when – if she’s been a very good
ponygirl – he usually ties those reins off to a ring set in the corner post of
our bed and then mount his pretty, pretty ponygirl. This, while I attend her Master. Of course.
Tonight however, my nervousness changed all of that.
Instead of leading his pony out for practice he put on her
hobbles and then clipped her wrist cuffs together behind her. She’d already started slipping into
“subspace” as she does so easily under his touch and especially when he takes
hold of her reins when she’s his pony.
So she didn’t even question it as he led her to one side of the bed and
ran those reins through their hook. He
softly stroked her face as he turned her to face me.
He then resumed his position leaning back on the end of our
bed and he called out to me directly. My
nervousness turned into near panic when he called out my sissy name.
“Donna, come here.
Now.” He commanded.
I swallowed deeply and quickly scrambled to my feet and
stepped over to where he was pointing to before him with his crop. I then felt that crop poking at my chest
between my breast forms as he stood himself upright from the bed.
“Take a step back, Donna” he ordered. Still not daring to look up, I complied. I risked looking over at my Mistress as she
stood there, reined and bound and her eyes were intently upon me.
“Good sissy” Master Michael said. “Now, on your knees again” he ordered.
I quickly complied and both feared and hoped it be just some
brief disciplining with that crop. I
was, again, wrong.
“You were looking at my boots” he said. Not as a question, just as a statement of
fact. I felt another blush explode
across my face.
“Yes, my boots. The
boots I have you shine so carefully.
Shine as is only fitting that you keep them shined. They are the boots I wear when I take your
girl and ride her. I wear these boots
when I mount her. I wear these boots
when I master her. So, it is only right
that you keep them shined. Isn’t it,
Donna?” He asked in so commanding and
penetrating a tone. I fumbled for a
response as my mind was awash with so many conflicting emotions.
“Did you miss any spots on these boots, Donna? Are you sure?
Perhaps if you got a closer look at them? Yes, do that.
Lean down and examine my boots.
Bring your face to them. Yes,
girl, just like that.” His voice was
almost hypnotic.
He had sat back on the bed again and pushed one booted foot
out as I leaned down to comply with his orders.
My face was now but inches away from its highly polished surface. The smell of the leather and the polish
filled my nostrils and raced right down to my cock.
I’ve worshipped now few boots and shoes in my life – but
always and only when they’ve been worn by a woman. Not when worn by a man.
“That’s it sissy, breathe that scent in fully. You smell that leather? You smell that polish? Those are on my boots. The boots I am wearing when I mount this
little bitch here at the end of these reins I hold. The boots I wear when I take your girl and
make her scream from how well I fuck her.
Close your eyes sissy and breathe in only through your nose. That’s it girl. Breathe in that way so the scent is even more
powerful.”
“Good girl. Breathe
in and think of how wonderfully hard and shiny and tall these boots are. See that in your mind’s eye as you see how
your woman begs to have my cock inside her.
That’s it, breathe in.”
I did breathe in. And
I did envision those boots and that turned me on. And the image of him wearing those boots
while Claire squealed in ecstasy beneath him made me wince with pleasure.
“Open your eyes, sissy.
Open them and kiss my boot. Kiss
it, sissy. Kiss it and lick it. Kiss it, lick it and worship it. Your Mistress does. Your Mistress has. Your lover does. Your lover has. If I took off her reins and took that bit out
of her mouth she’d be down there right now – pushing you aside so that she
could kiss and lick and worship my boot.”
He spoke right into my core with those words.
And I heard my Mistress whimper as those words spoke to her core
as well.
I began to kiss the boots.
I began to lick the boots. Their
scent… His commands… The pain of my chastity cage as my cock desperately tried
to burst through it… The smell of my perfume as it mixed with that leather and
polish scent… The feel of my lipstick as it ran across the shined surface of
those boots… The image of my precisely
manicured fingernails with their ruby red polish was I caressed his boots with
them… The way the weight of my breast
forms pulled at the bra holding them in place as I bent over to those boots… The way my panties were pulling up from my
bending over to those boots…
It was all wrong.
This was a man who’s boots I was worshipping. This was a straight man who was turning me on
with his boots. This was a hetero Master
who was having me submit to him by kissing his boots. His beautiful, powerful, sexy, shiny, smooth leather
boots.
My nervousness was still there but had turned itself into
lust. Even as I cradled his boot in my
hands and began slathering across it with my tongue I knew it was all
wrong. And it was all made worse by
hearing my lover’s moans as she was losing herself to the same lust as well.
Master Michael brought that boot up and forced me back onto
my knees as he did so – still cradling his boot and worshipping it.
“That’s it sissy.
That’s it. Make sure you get
every bit of it with your tongue.
Worship it like you worship that dildo your Mistress fucks you
with. That’s it. That’s a good sissy girl. That’s it.
Imagine my boot is just one big shiny smooth dildo for you to worship
and suck on like a good little sissy.
That’s it…”
My nerves were on fire as I almost feverishly complied with
his commands. My Mistress whimpered
helplessly tied off to the bed at his side.
He pulled his boot away from me and left me kneeling there,
slack jawed and panting with lust. He
laughed at that. Not a cruel laugh but
laughed, none-the-less.
“Oh, poor little sissy.
Nothing to kiss and worship?” he mocked.
“Up. Up! Up on your feet, sissy!”
he commanded.
Again, I scrambled to comply.
“There” he ordered, pointing with his crop “Back to your
place.”
I quickly minced to my spot.
“Down on your knees, sissy.” He snapped.
He stood up again and unhitched the reins from their bedpost
ring. With a few tugs on those reins he
maneuvered my lover into position at the end of the bed. He then reached over on to the bed and took
hold of the lunge line he’d laid there for me to bring outside as he played
with my Mistress. Instead, he snapped
the line to her collar and then threaded the rest of it through the ring set
into the footboard’s center. He drew the
line through it and thus forced my lover to bend over at her waist. Then he tied it off. She was panting with lust and not caring at
the drool dripping from around the bit still in her mouth.
Michael then stepped around to the rear of his pretty pony
girl and reached between my Mistress’s legs to take hold of the zipper
there. He smoothly pulled it away from
her skin and up between her legs, opening the catsuit and exposing her engorged
and very, very wet pussy. She moaned
through her bit as the air was suddenly upon those luscious lips of her pussy. A few quick moves and he’d opened the front
of his riding breeches to let his already hard cock come forth. He grasped the tail of the buttplug to move
it out the way and lined up his cock with my lover’s pussy. Claire whimpered in lust as she felt his
shaft touch her swollen and wet pussy lips.
Touch them but only that. He then
gathered up her reins and turned his attention back to me.
“Here, sissy, since you’ve been such a good sissy girl
worshipping that first boot, you can now worship this other one” he said,
pointing with the crop in his free hand.
“No, don’t get up. Crawl. Crawl on your hands and knees to worship my
boots. Crawl as I mount your woman above
you. Crawl, sissy. Crawl to worship my boots.”
I too whimpered with lust and got down on my hands and knees
to crawl to him. The ache from my cock
was constant now. As was the flow of
precum oozing from it. The plug in my
ass felt even larger now. I quickly
brought myself down onto his boots and began worshipping them. As I slathered my tongue and my lips and my
kisses upon them I felt him move above me.
The cry my Mistress made told me that his shaft was now fully inside
her. That he was now mounting her. I angled my head so I could try and see what
was happening above me. What I saw made
my cock pulse.
He had the reins in both his hands and was pulling on them
sharply to force her back onto his cock as he mounted her. He plowed into her and drove her
forward. With her legs hobbled together
and with her being tied off bent over as she was, she couldn’t keep her balance
so she began to fall forward and came mostly off of his cock as she did
so. Only the reins, held taut in his
fists, kept her upright. And as she
teetered forward he drew those reins sharply back and impaled her anew on his
shaft.
I must’ve slowed in my devotion to his boots enough for him
to have noticed as he quickly gathered the reins in one hand and used the other
to bring the crop down on my ass.
“Dammit, sissy! I
didn’t tell you to stop! Did I?” he
barked as the crop snapped onto my ass.
I quickly began worshipping his boots again. He then used the crop to lift my skirt up out
of the way to expose my panty covered ass cheeks. With some maneuvering, he was now able to
start cropping my bared flesh and did so in rhythm to his impaling my Mistress
with his thick cock. A few strokes like
this and she began bucking and moaning as a climax burst through her.
His fucking her in this manner was near brutal. The pulling on the bit was harsh and she had
to keep her head bent downward to run the reins along her shoulders and back so
that the force went along there instead of fully into her mouth. Even so, the bit was digging into her
painfully. And it was turning her on fiercely. She realized that he was using her as a
sexual prop and that I, her feminized, chaste, and cuckolded sissy was where
his attentions actually was. That made
her cum again as she realized it.
“That’s it sissy” he spat the words out with each thrust of
his cock into her pussy. “Worship those
boots. Get your tongue into it. Let me feel your lips on my boots. Worship them, sissy. Worship them as I fuck you Mistress like the
bitch in heat she is. Worship them! Yesssss…..”
I lost myself in the act of submission to this man and his
boots. My world became just the hard
shiny leather in front of me. The scent
of that leather soon became mixed with the scent of my Mistress’s pussy above
me as his mounting her brought her to one powerful climax after another. She was tied off and being used like a sexual
object and I was abasing myself at his feet worshiping his boots even as he used
my lover so ruthlessly and forcefully above me.
The intensity of it all was awesome.
So much so that it took me a moment to realize that the
motion above me had stopped. I dared
glance up again. He was fully impaled
into her and was brutally pulling the reins taught as he ground himself deeply
into her. From the growl that emanated
through his clenched teeth, I could tell he was finally cumming and firing his
seed deep into my lover’s pussy. From
the way her legs were shaking and the near incoherent moans she was making, I
could tell she was climaxing again herself.
They stayed like that for a moment. They stayed like that for an eternity. Finally, the wave of ecstasy they both were
riding crested and washed through them.
He breathed out and let the reins slide through his fingers a bit. She slowly slipped forward and came off of
his shaft. He bucked his hips forward to
push her fully off of his cock and down on to the bed.
He stood there, the last bit of the reins still in his
fingers, his cock glistening with her juices and his seed, and me with my lips
still upon his boots.
He leaned his head back and sighed happily. Then he looked back down at what was before
him. His ponygirl - my Mistress – lay
splayed on the bed in front of him. Her
inflamed pussy well and truly fucked and drooling his cum out of it. She lay there, still in her pony tack and
harness, bound and utterly blissed out from being so well mounted by her Alpha
Male Master.
And there I was.
Fully feminized and emasculated in my sissy maid’s uniform, my nylons,
my garters holding them up, my cock safely locked away in its cage, the plug
stuffing my ass, and my lips worshipping his sexy, hard, and shiny riding
boots.
He truly was the master of all he surveyed. He knew it.
I knew it. She knew it. And we all loved it.
Using the crop again, he put its tip under my chin to move
me off his boots and me to one side. He
then bent down and removed the hobbles on my Mistress’s ankles. Tapping the inside of her thighs to spread
her legs, he then used the crop to direct her further onto the bed. He stepped back and turned to me again.
“Crawl to me, sissy.
Crawl to your Master. Crawl to my
boots.” He ordered, the lust still in his voice.
I eagerly crawled to him and was about to begin worshipping
his boots again. Before I could however,
he ordered me again.
“Turn, sissy. Turn
around to your Mistress. Look at her,
sissy. Look at her pussy. You see it gaping? I did that.
Me, her Master. I did that with my cock.
I fucked your woman so well her pussy is gaping from it. Gaping and drooling my cum out of it. Gaping from a fucking like you never could
give her. Could you, sissy?” His words cut to my soul. Cut to my soul and turned me on as well.
“You worshipped my boots well. Like a good sissy girl. You pleased me with that. Your Mistress obviously enjoyed that
too. So, you’ve earned a reward” he
commandingly said.
I felt the tip of his crop pushing between my shoulder
blades and I shuffled myself forward to my Mistress’s well fucked pussy.
“Put your face into it, Sissy. Put your mouth onto her pussy and clean her
out. Clean out all my cum I just shot
into your woman’s pussy. Clean her out
and lap it all up.” He ordered as he pressed the crop firmly onto me. It wasn’t the first time I’d cleaned her
pussy after he’d made love to her and filled it with his cum. But it had always been she who ordered me to
bring my tongue to her lips and lick his seed from them. Now it was he who was doing the ordering. The feelings I was experiencing were intense
and heated and powerful as I began tasting his cum and her juices on my
tongue. I lapped and I licked and I
sucked at her pussy. My Mistress began
moaning anew. I have truly become an
expert at pleasing her with my tongue and I focused myself utterly on doing so
again now.
After minute or two I’d managed to suck out and lick up all
of his cum from her pussy and I started to lean back onto my knees when I felt
his crop stopping me. I held my position
as I felt him lift up my skirt with that crop.
My nervousness returned again even more powerfully.
Part of me knew that his fucking me at that moment would be
a right and proper thing for a sissy to experience. He’d just mounted my Mistress and had just
pushed my face into the pussy he’d just fucked and spent himself into. So it would’ve been completely appropriate for
him to also then mount the sissy who had submitted to him as well.
But, I wasn’t gay.
And neither was he. I knew that
but, at this moment, and after the intensity we’d all just shared… I was
incredibly turned on and…. Nervous.
He used his crop to push my face back into her pussy.
“Now you may worship her pussy just like you worshipped my
boots” he directed me. “Worship it,
sissy, and you may cum. You may cum like
the sissy you are” he told me as I felt his crop trace down my backside and
between my ass cheeks.
As I began lapping away at my Mistress’s clit she began
writhing and cooing with pleasure. She
was exceedingly wet and I knew that she was getting quite close to having
another climax. It was then that I felt
Michael hitting the plug in my ass with that crop. He began setting up a rhythm with it and with
each strike it sent a jolt through the plug into my prostate. The waves of pleasure from that began to
build. It was all too much. I was too on edge. I was too confused. I was too turned on. I was too deep in my sub space. I’d been too long in chastity and too
desperate for release. I was too
inflamed.
And…
And… I came. I felt
the pressure building and moaned as it exploded through me. My Mistress – my lover – knows me and knows
my sounds. As she heard me moan that
drove her over too and her pussy began spasming around my tongue as her climax
enveloped her.
All of which just deepened the climax I was rolling in. Rolling in despite my cock still being
tightly and painfully locked away in its chastity cage. I’d never done that before. I’d never cum while still locked away. Even as the pleasure exploded through me,
part of my mind contemplated that I might now never be unlocked again. That, if I could cum while caged, why should
I, as a sissy, ever be unlocked anyway?
That thought was both terrifying and even more of a turn on. The pulsing of my cock in its cage only
worsened and my jism made my panties even more soggy and sticky than they
already were.
I slumped forward from the intensity of it all. My leaning into my Mistress’s pussy and ass
drove her further onto the bed. We both
floated in that wonderful bliss of a deep, deep climax.
As I wafted along in that blissful cloud I became aware that
Michael was now standing close behind me and had brought his face next to my
ear. In a low voice he spoke to me
again.
“I rule here. I own
you. I own you as I own her. You serve her. She serves me. You serve me.
I rule here. I rule her. I rule you.
You are her sissy. You are my
sissy. If you serve her well you will
have pleased me and I may let you cum.
If you serve me well I may let you cum.
I own you, sissy.”
I was so terribly and completely confused. My emotions were a jumble. I could only whisper “Yes, sir” in response.
“Good girl” he said, soothingly. He stood up and backed up. And in his commanding voice he once again
took charge of his two submissives.
“Sissy, crawl to your place.
Becka, up! Up! That’s it my sweet ponygirl.” He helped her
get to her feet and then began gently removing her pony tack. Once she was nude he had her help him
undress. I continued to kneel in my
position and felt my cock aching in its cage and the mixture of her juices and
his cum in my mouth and drying upon my face. Eventually, he was undressed and
once again turned his attention to me.
Nude before and with cock still thick and heavy between his legs.
“Sissy” his voice commanding as usual, “your worshiping of
my boots pleased me but your doing so has left them smeared with your lipstick
and saliva. That won’t do. Take them to your room and clean them polish
them. Again. I will inspect them before breakfast
tomorrow. Once you’ve properly finished
tending to my boots tonight you may change out of your uniform and get to your bed. We will expect breakfast as usual tomorrow
morning. Now, I wish to make love to
your Mistress again so, off with you.” He ordered. My Mistress just whimpered happily at the
prospect of being driven to even more climaxes as I scampered out of the room
with his boots.
Later, with my gloved fingers stained with shoe polish as I
worked on those boots I could hear the unmistakable sounds her climaxing again
and again. I looked down and realized
that I’d started grinding myself against his boot as I’d held it between my
legs to polish it. I closed my eyes and
fantasized that I was on my knees before him and he had let me out of my cage
so that I could grind my little cock against his hard shiny boots until I came. I bit my lip and winched at how turned on
those thoughts made me and how my cock hurt against its cage at those
thoughts. Perhaps I could get my
Mistress to take my cage off when I cleaned his boots. And that I’d have to start cleaning them anew
from all the cum I’d shoot onto them.
And that I’d get so turned on cleaning them that I’d cum on them again
and then I’d… And then none of this was
helping me finish cleaning and polishing his boots that night.
I was still turned on even as I’d finally finished tending
to his boots and slipped out of my maid’s uniform. Showered, powdered, in just my panties and
babydoll, I tried thinking of anything else but those boots.
That didn’t work.
Eventually though, sleep began to take me. Even as I began to drift into slumber the
thought him and of those boots was still there.
And that made me nervous….
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