Pegging
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Pegging Start free porn video
This is a strap-on," Doris said. She hardly needed to tell me
that; the shape of the object and the harness she had in her other
hand told me more than I wanted to know. "I think it's time you
were broken to a strap-on," she told me. "I've wanted to do this
ever since I got you into panties."
"You aren't putting *that* in me!" I protested.
"No, I'm not," she said. "You are."
"I am what?"
"Putting this thing in you. It's always best to start that way.
That's what Ann told me, and she's been plowing Greg for
years. That way you have complete control over...well, over
everything. You can control how fast it goes in, and how deep.
If I do it, I'll have to force you, and that will hurt. A lot."
I could believe that.
Doris had warned me before we were engaged that she liked to be
the dominant partner. I had been nervous; the thought of being
henpecked didn't appeal to me a bit. There had been a henpecked
husband in our neighborhood when when I was growing up. The poor
fellow had been a laughing stock, and it had almost put me off
marriage altogether.
Well, I needn't have worried. Doris is kind and loving, never
critical, never overbearing. She's in control, and she controls
me, but she does it in such a sweet way that I can't resist. She
makes me *want* to comply, to be led.
But did that include having something that big up me? It was so
large. I said so.
"It's the smallest size they had. And once you're broken, you'll
be taking much bigger than that."
She handed it to me. It was flesh-colored, molded of some soft and
slightly flexible plastic. A fairly prominent crown, and little
blood vessels standing out along its length. It wasn't the largest
dildo I'd ever seen; actually somewhat less than life-sized, if my
own equipment was anything to go by. Some of those I'd seen in toy
stores were monsters; this was a scant 6 inches long and only about
an inch in diameter--actually a little under-endowed. But faced
with the prospect of having it in me, I thought it was enormous.
I was nervous, but I was curious, too. The thought of being taken
that way by my wife was alluring. I had read about men being had
that way, and I had thought it must be a hot experience. I was
both eager and reluctant: figure that out.
I stripped down for her. "On your back," she said. "Comes out
cleaner that way, Ann says." She had had me clean myself out
beforehand, but obediently I lay on my back. Doris gently applied
a lubricant to my bottom and to the end of the dildo.
Nervously, I touched the tip to the place where it was supposed to
go. Cold. I felt myself tighten up. That would never do. I
wanted to show Doris how easily I could accommodate it. I wanted
to make her proud of me.
I pressed some more. Not nice. Strange, I had had my temperature
taken back there. But a thermometer is tiny, not like this monster.
"You mustn't push. Don't force it. Ease it in, Ladyboy. Press it
gently. Make your bottom *want* it."
I eased off. Waited for my body to relax for it. The muscles
loosened, and I tried to imagine them deliberately widening to
admit it. They did, a bit. I thought about her name for me,
Ladyboy. That usually relaxed me; the name was like a
tranquillizer. Ladyboy.
I wasn't pushing at all, now. Just enough pressure to keep it from
slipping out. I thought about those lady boys in, where was it?
Bangkok, that was the place. I had a picture of one. Sulky, c***d-
like face, little hemispherical breasts, and..."something extra,"
as they like to say. I pictured myself looking like that. As so
often, I wondered what it would be like to make a living that
way...? At that thought my muscles opened, a bit. And it slipped
in, just a bit, using the opening and enlarging it.
"There you go, Ladyboy. Now don't force it. Hold it right there
and get used to the feel."
But now I wanted to go further. So I did force it, just a little
bit. And it moved in a fraction more. I could feel it there.
Stretched a little more. Think relaxation. Think Ladyboy.
My Ladyboy opening eased a bit more, and I pressed on--or in. It
wasn't exactly pain, but it was more than discomfort. Gradually
being opened. No, not just opened (I thought as I pushed it
another bit in), expanded was a better word.
"Now, don't tense up," Doris said. "Ann said this was the
crucial point. Tense up and it will pop right out again. Stay
there and get used to it."
I waited. Tried to relax. I didn't think muscles stretched that
far could relax. What to do...? What if I imagined my gut pulling
on it, sucking it in.... Physically impossible, but...there...it
somehow worked. I felt the head pass the outermost ring of muscle.
Now it actually did hurt. I felt not just stretched, but insanely
violated, opened up beyond all reason, beyond what the body was
designed to take. I once heard of someone having a baseball bat
shoved up there. I could imagine now how that must have felt.
But now I wanted more. There's something tremendously sexy about
being penetrated back there, and the sexy feeling was beginning to
take hold. Ladyboy. That was me, Doris's ladyboy, the girly boy
who had been a girl for her in so many other ways.
In some more. I could feel it inside, now. I hadn't realized that
you could feel down there, inside. But now, as I slowly, slowly
eased it further in, it seemed as if I could feel the little
irregularities, and especially the rim of the crown, as they slid
softly over the tissues.
And all the time, that wildly stretched feeling. I was being
violated. ****d. Only I was my own r****t, r****g myself as the
dildo advanced, slowly, gently, inexorably.
"Watch out for the bend," Doris suddenly said. I remembered the
anatomical drawings she had shown me. Going straight in, and then
making a bend, almost ninety degrees, heading toward the back. I
was going to have to negotiate that soon.
"Ooooh!" I suddenly cried out.
"Something wrong?" she asked.
I gasped. "No. That was my prostate." I hadn't expected it to
feel so good. Being examined by my doctor had never been like this!
"Well, something likes it." I hadn't even realized that I had
an erection. When a stimulus is powerful enough to draw your
attention from *that*...! I realized that it was not only hard,
but oozing.
I felt another ring of muscles, further inside, being stretched.
That's it...in you go. Into Ladyboy's lady ass. How right Doris
was; I couldn't have stood it if she had forced me. For once, she
was actually giving up control; she had put me in charge of my own
deflowerment.
Then...tbe bend...was that it? I seemed to be meeting resistance.
I shifted the angle a bit. Was there any place for it to go?
No...no... Maybe I'm not there yet. A little further...I was glad
the dildo was flexible. And...there it went. I had negotiated the
bend. Does it get easier with time, I wondered. When Doris enters
me, will she be able to manage that bend?
Ah, but now it was sliding smoothly in, and the filled feeling
suddenly turned into a pleasant fullness. I've read so many
stories in which the pain of being taken suddenly turned to
pleasure, and I had never believed it. Too facile by half. But
that was what was happening to me. To say that the pain was gone
was an exaggeration, but there was something almost luxurious about
having it in me. Something actually luxurious about the continuing
pain, the forcible way it kept me in mind of just what I was doing.
More than just luxury; this was a sensual feast!
I felt the molded balls on the end pressing me, and at the same
moment Doris gave a little cry of triumph: "All the way in! That's
my Ladyboy! Doesn't that feel nice?" Yes, I had gotten it all the
way in, and it did feel nice. Now, suppose I moved it out and in,
as if Doris were...
This is something you have to experience; I can't describe it for
you. But as it slid in and out, as the crown and all the little
life-like surface veins and irregularities moved over my tissues
and stimulated them, every detail was a new pleasure. Like sex;
not as intense but longer lasting.
"Honey Mistress..." That was my special term of endearment. I
didn't have to address her as Mistress; she told me at the very
beginning that she thought that was "a lot of foolishness." But I
saved it for special occasions; whenever she was controlling me in
an unusually pleasurable way, I let her know by calling her Honey
Mistress. "Honey Mistress," I said again, "if this is what it's
going to be like when you're doing it, you won't have to ask me.
I'll be asking you. Begging you...."
We were going to have to get the next size up, and soon....
that; the shape of the object and the harness she had in her other
hand told me more than I wanted to know. "I think it's time you
were broken to a strap-on," she told me. "I've wanted to do this
ever since I got you into panties."
"You aren't putting *that* in me!" I protested.
"No, I'm not," she said. "You are."
"I am what?"
"Putting this thing in you. It's always best to start that way.
That's what Ann told me, and she's been plowing Greg for
years. That way you have complete control over...well, over
everything. You can control how fast it goes in, and how deep.
If I do it, I'll have to force you, and that will hurt. A lot."
I could believe that.
Doris had warned me before we were engaged that she liked to be
the dominant partner. I had been nervous; the thought of being
henpecked didn't appeal to me a bit. There had been a henpecked
husband in our neighborhood when when I was growing up. The poor
fellow had been a laughing stock, and it had almost put me off
marriage altogether.
Well, I needn't have worried. Doris is kind and loving, never
critical, never overbearing. She's in control, and she controls
me, but she does it in such a sweet way that I can't resist. She
makes me *want* to comply, to be led.
But did that include having something that big up me? It was so
large. I said so.
"It's the smallest size they had. And once you're broken, you'll
be taking much bigger than that."
She handed it to me. It was flesh-colored, molded of some soft and
slightly flexible plastic. A fairly prominent crown, and little
blood vessels standing out along its length. It wasn't the largest
dildo I'd ever seen; actually somewhat less than life-sized, if my
own equipment was anything to go by. Some of those I'd seen in toy
stores were monsters; this was a scant 6 inches long and only about
an inch in diameter--actually a little under-endowed. But faced
with the prospect of having it in me, I thought it was enormous.
I was nervous, but I was curious, too. The thought of being taken
that way by my wife was alluring. I had read about men being had
that way, and I had thought it must be a hot experience. I was
both eager and reluctant: figure that out.
I stripped down for her. "On your back," she said. "Comes out
cleaner that way, Ann says." She had had me clean myself out
beforehand, but obediently I lay on my back. Doris gently applied
a lubricant to my bottom and to the end of the dildo.
Nervously, I touched the tip to the place where it was supposed to
go. Cold. I felt myself tighten up. That would never do. I
wanted to show Doris how easily I could accommodate it. I wanted
to make her proud of me.
I pressed some more. Not nice. Strange, I had had my temperature
taken back there. But a thermometer is tiny, not like this monster.
"You mustn't push. Don't force it. Ease it in, Ladyboy. Press it
gently. Make your bottom *want* it."
I eased off. Waited for my body to relax for it. The muscles
loosened, and I tried to imagine them deliberately widening to
admit it. They did, a bit. I thought about her name for me,
Ladyboy. That usually relaxed me; the name was like a
tranquillizer. Ladyboy.
I wasn't pushing at all, now. Just enough pressure to keep it from
slipping out. I thought about those lady boys in, where was it?
Bangkok, that was the place. I had a picture of one. Sulky, c***d-
like face, little hemispherical breasts, and..."something extra,"
as they like to say. I pictured myself looking like that. As so
often, I wondered what it would be like to make a living that
way...? At that thought my muscles opened, a bit. And it slipped
in, just a bit, using the opening and enlarging it.
"There you go, Ladyboy. Now don't force it. Hold it right there
and get used to the feel."
But now I wanted to go further. So I did force it, just a little
bit. And it moved in a fraction more. I could feel it there.
Stretched a little more. Think relaxation. Think Ladyboy.
My Ladyboy opening eased a bit more, and I pressed on--or in. It
wasn't exactly pain, but it was more than discomfort. Gradually
being opened. No, not just opened (I thought as I pushed it
another bit in), expanded was a better word.
"Now, don't tense up," Doris said. "Ann said this was the
crucial point. Tense up and it will pop right out again. Stay
there and get used to it."
I waited. Tried to relax. I didn't think muscles stretched that
far could relax. What to do...? What if I imagined my gut pulling
on it, sucking it in.... Physically impossible, but...there...it
somehow worked. I felt the head pass the outermost ring of muscle.
Now it actually did hurt. I felt not just stretched, but insanely
violated, opened up beyond all reason, beyond what the body was
designed to take. I once heard of someone having a baseball bat
shoved up there. I could imagine now how that must have felt.
But now I wanted more. There's something tremendously sexy about
being penetrated back there, and the sexy feeling was beginning to
take hold. Ladyboy. That was me, Doris's ladyboy, the girly boy
who had been a girl for her in so many other ways.
In some more. I could feel it inside, now. I hadn't realized that
you could feel down there, inside. But now, as I slowly, slowly
eased it further in, it seemed as if I could feel the little
irregularities, and especially the rim of the crown, as they slid
softly over the tissues.
And all the time, that wildly stretched feeling. I was being
violated. ****d. Only I was my own r****t, r****g myself as the
dildo advanced, slowly, gently, inexorably.
"Watch out for the bend," Doris suddenly said. I remembered the
anatomical drawings she had shown me. Going straight in, and then
making a bend, almost ninety degrees, heading toward the back. I
was going to have to negotiate that soon.
"Ooooh!" I suddenly cried out.
"Something wrong?" she asked.
I gasped. "No. That was my prostate." I hadn't expected it to
feel so good. Being examined by my doctor had never been like this!
"Well, something likes it." I hadn't even realized that I had
an erection. When a stimulus is powerful enough to draw your
attention from *that*...! I realized that it was not only hard,
but oozing.
I felt another ring of muscles, further inside, being stretched.
That's it...in you go. Into Ladyboy's lady ass. How right Doris
was; I couldn't have stood it if she had forced me. For once, she
was actually giving up control; she had put me in charge of my own
deflowerment.
Then...tbe bend...was that it? I seemed to be meeting resistance.
I shifted the angle a bit. Was there any place for it to go?
No...no... Maybe I'm not there yet. A little further...I was glad
the dildo was flexible. And...there it went. I had negotiated the
bend. Does it get easier with time, I wondered. When Doris enters
me, will she be able to manage that bend?
Ah, but now it was sliding smoothly in, and the filled feeling
suddenly turned into a pleasant fullness. I've read so many
stories in which the pain of being taken suddenly turned to
pleasure, and I had never believed it. Too facile by half. But
that was what was happening to me. To say that the pain was gone
was an exaggeration, but there was something almost luxurious about
having it in me. Something actually luxurious about the continuing
pain, the forcible way it kept me in mind of just what I was doing.
More than just luxury; this was a sensual feast!
I felt the molded balls on the end pressing me, and at the same
moment Doris gave a little cry of triumph: "All the way in! That's
my Ladyboy! Doesn't that feel nice?" Yes, I had gotten it all the
way in, and it did feel nice. Now, suppose I moved it out and in,
as if Doris were...
This is something you have to experience; I can't describe it for
you. But as it slid in and out, as the crown and all the little
life-like surface veins and irregularities moved over my tissues
and stimulated them, every detail was a new pleasure. Like sex;
not as intense but longer lasting.
"Honey Mistress..." That was my special term of endearment. I
didn't have to address her as Mistress; she told me at the very
beginning that she thought that was "a lot of foolishness." But I
saved it for special occasions; whenever she was controlling me in
an unusually pleasurable way, I let her know by calling her Honey
Mistress. "Honey Mistress," I said again, "if this is what it's
going to be like when you're doing it, you won't have to ask me.
I'll be asking you. Begging you...."
We were going to have to get the next size up, and soon....
Myra
- 29.12.2021
- 17
- 0
