The Surprise Vacation free porn video

The Surprise Vacation

by an unknown author and Tristmegistus

1. Chapter - Innocent Beginnings

"Did you take your vitamin, dear?" Ellen called from the bathroom.

I rubbed sleep from my eyes and picked up the pill bottle, rolling a big
tablet into my palm. "My horse pill? I'm doing it now."

"Have you noticed any difference yet?"

"Nah. Vitamins are pretty much all alike." She'd gone on a minor health
kick a month before, insisting that I needed to lose a little weight and
take better care of myself. I hadn't actually made it to the gym to work
out like she was though.

"Where's my underwear honey?" I asked my wife, poking through my almost
empty drawer. It was Saturday morning. I had noticed that my underwear
had been disappearing from my drawer over the last couple of weeks. I
thought nothing of it, figuring that she'd simply been too busy to do
laundry.

"Something went wrong with the washing machine and it ruined everything
in the last load," she said.

"Well, what am I going to wear?"

She emerged from the bathroom, dipped into her side of the dresser.
"Here, put these on," she smiled, handing me a pair of her pink satin
panties. "Now don't give me any fake macho bullshit. I know you love
wearing my panties. In fact, I know you've secretly worn this very pair
before."

I looked at her dumfounded. I thought that I'd successfully hidden my
fetish from her. I'd been so careful.

"C'mon, let's put these on you,"she teased. I was beet red as I numbly
stepped into them and let her pull them up to my hips. She stroked my cock
through the fabric, a lot like I often did. "Mmmm, I see that someone
finds this exiting. We may have to keep it like that." I wasn't sure what
she meant by that remark, but was too embarrassed to ask. I hurriedly put
the rest of my clothes on, jeans and a T-shirt. She gave me a slightly
disapproving look and said, "Well, I need take you shopping and get some
new underwear for you, among other things."

I said, "Can't you just pick up some for me? I want to look at that
washing machine and watch the football game."

Since she absolutely despises football, this would normally have set her
off on a tirade, but surprisingly, she just smiled sweetly and said, "Don't
worry about the washer. I fixed it myself. Go ahead and enjoy your
football honey. I'll get everything you need."

So while she was shopping, I lay on the couch stroking myself through
the panties, embarrassed that my wife knew of my fetish, but relieved that
she seemed so low key about it. The game turned out to be pretty boring
and I thought about raiding her closet for something else to wear, but now
that she knew, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I ended up
taking a nap. I woke up when she came home, loaded with bags from various
stores. I started to get up to help.

"Just stay there, I'll put everything away. What do you say that we go
out for dinner?"

"That sounds like a good idea."

"Great. But first, I have a surprise for you. Stand up and close your
eyes." I remembered that teasing look, that flirtatious tone. We hadn't
played sex games in a long time. In fact, we hadn't done anything sexual
in a long time. With a smile, I stood and did as she asked. The next
thing I knew, she pulled my hands behind my back and locked them with a
pair of handcuffs!

"What's this all about?"

"No comments from the peanut gallery," she said as she put some sort of
gag in my mouth.

Whatever it was filled up my whole mouth, all the way to the top of my
throat! As I explored it with my tongue, I realized that it was a penis
gag. What was going on?

"Now come along peacefully, or I'll have to take further steps." With
that I followed her into the bathroom. She took my hands and tied a strap
to them and pulled it up to the shower curtain, forcing me to bend over at
the waist. She then took a pair of scissors and proceeded to cut my
clothes off, ruining jeans I could have just stepped out of. It was all
pretty kinky, even for Ellen's sometimes bizarre moods, but except for the
embarrassment of having something shaped like a penis in my mouth, it
seemed harmless.

"You won't be needing those anymore," she said, tossing the rags that
had been my jeans and tee-shirt down the laundry chute.

She then took some shaving cream and a razor and proceeded to shave
every bit of hair below my eyebrows. I definitely didn't like the turn
things were taking, but fighting her while she stroked my most private
parts didn't seem like a good idea - and there wasn't a whole lot I

could do about it, anyway.

"I think that since you like wearing panties so much, you should have
the experience of everything else that goes along with it," she explained
as she worked over my underarms. "You'll find that all of your old clothes
have been replaced with something more suitable for your new station. I
think that about does it. Step in the shower and let's rinse you off."

There was nothing I could do except slide the strap down the bar and
step under the water. I was bewildered. Surely she hadn't really thrown
out all my clothes! As she rinsed all of the hairy soap off of my body, my
skin felt strange, tingly and oddly alive. She spent more time on my
weirdly naked penis, making it swell again. She patted me dry all over
with a big, soft towel and spread skin conditioner all over me, dwelling on
my semi-hard penis.

"Well that looks much better, but we'll have to do something about your
figure. That waistline will never do. You haven't been losing enough
weight, darling. Follow me and we'll take care of it."

As we walked into the bedroom, I saw some clothes laid out on the bed.
There was a corset, panties, stockings, and a short dress. She began to
put the corset on me, and said, "Your arms are in the way." With that, she
reached into one of the bags and pulled out a leather collar. She then put
some leather cuffs on my wrists, unlocked the metal ones, and quickly
hooked my hands behind my head to the collar.

This was starting to get too weird. Our sex games had died out a year
or so before. I'd known she was curious about bondage and stuff, but had
laid down the law and said no. I tried to talk around the thing in my
mouth, but she ignored me. I was able to offer only token

resistance as my arms were asleep and numb from being pulled up and back
for so long. Next, she started hooking up the corset and pulling the laces
in behind me. Soon I couldn't breathe and still she was tightening the
laces.

"Is that uncomfortable? Too bad. It'll give you incentive to lose that
extra weight you've been ignoring, won't it?" With a final savage jerk, she
finished adjusting the laces with a full knot. "I think you'll have an
interesting time trying to untie that by yourself."

I silently agreed. It was more like being in a straight jacket than
lingerie. But there was an illicit thrill to it, despite my deepening
worry that she was going way too far with her fun.

"Now let's put some panties on you. Which pair would you like? You
don't care? That's no way for a lady to show interest in her appearance. I
guess we'll try this new pair of pink satin ones I bought you. Now you
don't have to steal mine, love. Oh, my! You really look cute in them."

Next came a set of latex breast forms which she teasingly placed in the
corset's half cups to fill out my chest. After that she rolled some
stockings up each leg, hooked them to the garters on the corset, and
smoothed them out. She quickly admired her work while I tried not to, too
embarrassed for words, even if the gag hadn't been in my mouth.

"Let's see how this dress I picked out for you fits." With that she
picked up a shimmery peach colored dress and worked it over the tangle of
my head and arms. As it fell over my breasts and hips it came down to only
mid-thigh.

She looked at me with a grin on her face and said, "Don't you look
adorable! You'll have to be very careful and ladylike when you sit or bend
over or the world will see your garters and panties. Only a slut would act
like that. If you act like a slut, I'll have to treat you like one."

What did she mean by 'the world will see you?' I didn't like the
implications in that statement.

"Step into these shoes," she said with the air of command, as she placed
a pair of matching peach shoes with about a 3-1/2 in heel on the floor.

I'd rarely dared to play with her high heels. They were a little too
tight, but the real reason I usually avoided them was because they awoke in
me a shame powerful enough to counterbalance the excitement of cross
dressing. I found it was tremendously difficult to keep my balance with my
hands fastened behind my neck.

"Now it's time for your makeup. I'm going to remove the gag, but I
don't want to hear a single word or I'll put it back in and leave it there
for a whole day." Ellen gave me a look that indicated she clearly meant it.

Well, I figured, we've gone this far, so why fight it. Besides,
cosmetics were another thing I'd never had the guts to try, and I'd often
fantasized about how I'd look. She spent the next thirty minutes
completing my makeup, going through foundation, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and
mascara, adding a light blush, and finishing with a bright, deep rose
lipstick. She topped it off with a light brown shoulder length wig.

"Now you can look at yourself," she said as she led me to a mirror.

I couldn't believe it! A beautiful girl looked back at me. If she was
alone in a bar, every guy in there would hit on her. The dress had a
scooped front almost to my breast forms, which were ample. It also showed
a very flattering figure. No wonder I couldn't breathe. Looking at the
reflection in the mirror, the hemline seemed even shorter, at least six
inches above my knees.

I heard a soft "click." I turned around, and my wife was taking pictures
of me!

"You can't admire yourself all day, sweetie. We've got a busy afternoon
and evening ahead of us."

My heart sank. She was really going to force me to go out dressed like
this! I started to speak, wanting to talk her out of it, but she picked up
the cock-shaped gag and moved ominously toward me. I shut up. With that,
my wife changed into a plain dress and fluffed her hair, not even bothering
to use any makeup on herself, which was unusual. She noted my confusion
and said, "I don't want to steal any of the attention you deserve, honey."

She clipped a leash to my collar and led me to the garage. As she
opened the passenger door, I began to fight her. "Honey what are you
trying to -"

She pushed me off balance, which wasn't hard, and stuffed the gag back
in my mouth, immediately strapped it behind my head. "I warned you! Now
you'll have to pay the price for disobedience!" She pushed me again and I
fell into the passenger seat. She buckled the seat belt.

Bound as I was, with my hands behind my head, there was no way I could
do anything but go along.

As she drove us away, she said, "I know you're dying of curiosity,
sweetie, wondering what this is all about. It's simple really. I noticed
about six months ago that my clothes and lingerie had been rearranged
almost every time you're home and I'm not. I started carefully marking my
hangers and drawers to confirm my suspicions, and I can name every time you
snuck into something sexy and even tell you what you wore. Really, I don't
mind, honey. In fact, it really turns me on. So I'm going to make sure
that you live your fantasy to the fullest. It's really perfect, because MY
fantasy is to dominate my husband completely and I'm going to act that out,
too."

I couldn't believe it! She must have caught on almost the very first
time I gave in to the impulse to see if silky feminine clothes felt as
wonderful as they looked. Well, the first time since I was a k**, anyway.

"I've arranged for you to take a two week surprise vacation starting
Monday. Your boss thinks that we're going on a cruise." She giggled. "In
a way, we are, aren't we? For the next two weeks, you're going to live
entirely as a female and follow my every command. If you give me

any shit at all, I'll send those pictures of you admiring yourself to
your boss and secretary. I think they'd get a good laugh from them, don't
you? To get you ready for our little adventure, we're going to the mall to
do some shopping for your vacation."

I kept hoping it was all a joke. That any moment she'd turn the car
around, laughing at how she'd scared me, and we'd play for a while in bed,
then it'd be over. But my guts were cold. I couldn't talk myself into
believing it'd happen that way. I knew she was dead serious. As we pulled
into the mall parking lot she said, "In case you're having any thoughts
about running away, remember that you don't have any car keys, wallet or
money. If you don't do exactly as I say, I'll leave you here to get back
on your own."

She was right! Trying to get home without her, dressed like this,
wasn't an option. I couldn't even think of hitchhiking. Cold sweat popped
out on my brow as I realized that I was stuck. I had to do what she said.
I didn't even want to think of what her plans were.

2. Chapter - The Mall

I was terrified. There I was, tied into my car seat, dressed as a woman
from high heels to wig, with my wrists handcuffed to a leather collar
around my neck, for all the world to see. And my wife had driven me to the
shopping mall to shop for clothes to complete my wardrobe. I wanted to cry
out in frustration and terror, but there was a penis-shaped gag buried in
my throat. The excitement I'd felt at home was long gone.

After she stopped the car in the parking lot, she turned to me and
unlocked the collar, cuffs, and removed the gag from my mouth. "Now, can I
trust you to behave in here, or will I have to really embarrass you? And
by behave I mean do everything I say without question."

With a numb feeling in my stomach I said, "Yes honey, I'll be good."

"Wonderful! I know we're going to have a marvelous time."

With that, she made me fix the lipstick the gag had smeared, and showed
me how to powder my sweaty forehead. We got out of the car and walked into
the mall. The heels caused my hips to sway noticeably. I did my best to
minimize it.

She looked at me with a grin and said, "My, aren't we calling attention
to ourselves!" and laughed merrily. "Our first stop is at the beauty
parlor. We don't have that much time, so today we'll just touch up your
makeup and do your nails. Your hair can wait until tomorrow. I've already
made an appointment for you."

The voyage through the crowded mall was tremendously humiliating. I
kept waiting for someone to recognize me, or see through the disguise my
wife had applied and sneer at a man in a short dress and makeup. It was
almost a relief to near the beauty shop. While I didn't draw any

of the disgusted looks I was afraid of, I got way too much attention,
and the appreciative smiles were almost worse than mockery would have been.

We walked into the parlor, and she talked to the receptionist. "Hello.
I called earlier for a 'special appointment' for Sheila."

A pretty brunette overheard and approached. "Hi! I'm Cindy and
everything is ready. Follow me please." She led us past the filled
stations into a back room. "Please have a seat here." I looked at the
chair and then my wife with some misgivings.

"SIT DOWN! You heard what the lady said!" my wife commanded and shoved
me into the chair. Before I could recover, she pulled two velcro lined
straps out of her purse and quickly strapped my arms to the armrests,
rendering me completely helpless. "Now sit there quietly, or I'll have to
take further steps."

The stylist was trying, though not very hard, to cover a big smirk on
her face.

"Go ahead and start on her. I don't think she'll give you any trouble.
How long do you think this will take?"

"For everything you asked for, about an hour and a half."

"Good, I'll be back then. I've got some shopping to do. If she gives
you any trouble, feel free to take whatever action you think is
appropriate." She then walked out of the store, leaving me alone with the
stylist.

"You aren't going to make any trouble, are you?" she teased.

I shook my head no, not trusting my voice. Sounding like a man would've
been too embarrassing, and I'd feel like a fool if I tried a false woman's
voice.

"Too bad. I think I'd enjoy disciplining and humiliating you. You're
obviously into it. Maybe I should see if my boyfriend would look as good
as you do dressed up."

That definitely made me decide not to resist - as if I could have
anyway. I did my best to ignore her flattery, too. The last thing I wanted
to do was look too much like a woman.

"Debbie here is going to do your nails, and I'll be giving you a light
makeover. Your lady friend made a separate appointment for your hair for
tomorrow." She turned her attention to my face and began working me over as
Debbie began my nails.

Sixty minutes later, she was still working on my face, and Debbie had
mockingly told me to remove my hose so she could do my toenails. The bands
around my wrists made that impossible, of course, and I cringed as the girl
touched me and did it herself. I kept my eyes closed, unable to face the
changes being made to me. The worst part was having my eyebrows plucked
into shape. How could I hide that when the "vacation" was over?

"This is a 'light' makeover?" I wondered to Cindy in a safe whisper,
trying to joke. "How long does it take for a complete job?" I really
didn't want to know.

At that moment my wife walked in with a shopping bag. "How are we
coming? Oh, she looks just darling!" she said as she grinned at me. She
then bent over and admired my bright red toenails. Confirming that Debbie
was finished, she rolled my hose part way up and began digging

through a huge shopping bag.

"What are you doing, honey?" I asked in a meek, gender neutral voice.

"Oh, I didn't think that those shoes were flattering enough, so I
dropped into the Wild Pair to find you something prettier. I know you're
just dying to wear them, but with that corset on I don't imagine you can
bend over far enough to strap them on."

That was an understatement! While I'd gotten used to taking shallow
breaths in the corset, there was no way I could bend that far down. I
couldn't see what the shoes looked like from the angle I was sitting in the
chair, but I could tell they had a much higher heel than the other set.

"There!" Cindy announced proudly. "That about finishes you. How are
you coming, Debbie?"

"Just a few minutes to let the last coat dry." After about five very
uncomfortable minutes of listening to girl talk, she said, "That about does
it. Let's stand up and have a look at you."

My wife then removed the velcro straps, freeing me from the chair. I
stood up and almost fell. I looked down at my shoes. They were a pair of
cream ankle straps with at least a five inch heel. I could barely stand in
them. It was amazing what a difference an inch and a half made. I then
looked in the mirror, for the first time, and almost didn't recognize
myself. The person standing there was a short, truly beautiful, entirely
feminine woman staring back at me with wide,

shocked, expertly made up eyes! Her skin looked perfectly smooth and
her lips were strikingly highlighted. I reflexively raised my hands to my
face, not believing what I was seeing, and then noticed my nails. One full
inch long and a deep liquid red - exactly the color of my skillfully
painted lips and toes.

My wife smiled approvingly at me and said, "Don't they look lovely,
Sheila?"

"Y ... Yes," I stammered, too shocked to lie. "They're beautiful. I
can't believe it!"

As she paid Cindy and we turned to go, she said, "By the way, I asked
her to use a permanent set on the nails. You won't be able to remove
them."

I looked down at my hands in shock. How could you hide nails like that?
What would I do at the end of the two weeks? I knew enough about it to
realize that even if I cut them off, they'd be unnaturally thick.

"Let's go, Sheila, we've got plenty still to do. Now it's time for some
clothes shopping. With a gorgeous bod and sexy face like you have, we have
to get you some 'hot' outfits to match."

I slowly emerged from my state of shock, and wished I hadn't. I was
drawing even more attention now. The way men were staring at me left no
doubt as to their thoughts. I stayed as close to Ellen as I could as she
slowly toured store fronts.

Our first stop was "The Body Shop." My wife had me try on countless
outfits in the dressing room. It was sheer torture, climbing into and out
of one revealing outfit after another. I was horrified of being recognized
and arrested for this perversion. She ended up picking out a short black
leather skirt with matching bustier, and a white satin minidress with a
deeply scooped neckline. Then she made me pay for the items with my
American Express Card - with my real name on it! The sales clerk gave me a
shocked look and then a big smirk. My face turned beet red from
embarrassment. My slim hand shook as I tried to grip the pen and sign the
sales slip with my too long nails.

We went from store to store for about two more endless hours. I must
have tried on forty outfits and purchased at least a dozen. My ribs were
killing me from the constant pressure of the corset and my feet ached from
walking and standing in those incredible heels.

"Here we go. One last stop," my wife said as we turned into another
boutique. "Why don't you have a seat for a couple of minutes."

She didn't have to tell me twice. I was exhausted. I sat in the chair
she indicated, relieved to get a load off of my feet. I carefully smoothed
my hemline as I sat down (I'd learned this lesson the hard way through some
embarrassing comments and looks from other shoppers). I was so tired, I
didn't know what store I was in, and really didn't care. I let my eyes
close.

One of the clerks came up behind me and said, "Just sit still now."
There was a sudden, intense burning sensation in my right ear. My eyes
leapt open, and I tried to get up. She held my head firmly with one hand
and said, "Just a few seconds. Hold still." The sharp pain was

repeated in the other ear. She then rubbed both with some alcohol and
fiddled with each ear for a few seconds. "There, that does it. You can
get up now."

I stood up and looked in the mirror. She had pierced my ears and placed
a little gold ball in each of them! What would I do at the at the end of
two weeks? Those holes in my ears were going to take a long time to heal
over.

"Okay, that finishes us here. It's time for us to go home and get ready
to go out tonight."

With that, we walked back towards the car - slowly, because I was forced
to take such mincing steps in the tall shoes.

As we got into the car I turned and said, "Honey, this is ridiculous.
Look at my hands! I can't -"

She slapped me hard on the cheek, staggering me. She immediately pulled
out a pair of handcuffs, put them on me, and secured them behind me to the
headrest, making me completely helpless.

"I can see that you need a lesson to show you that I mean business.
When I'm finished with you, you're going to beg me to dress you up, take
you out, and make you look as pretty and sexy as possible! We both know
that you've secretly dreamed about this. Well it's happening and there's
not a damned thing you can do to stop it! The sooner you realize that
you're no longer in control of what happens to you, the happier you'll be!"

"But honey," I whined, "don't you think that this's a little -"

She rammed the gag back in my mouth. "What were you saying dear? I
didn't catch it? Oh well, I guess it wasn't very important."

We pulled away from the mall with me helpless in the passenger seat,
thankful that the tinted windows offered me a little protection from casual
observation.

As I began to look around me I realized that this was not the way home.
Where was she taking me now?

She noticed me squirming and looking around and said, "Don't know where
we're going? Well, as much as you deserve to be humiliated more in public,
that'll have to wait. I just have to pick something up."

My relief quickly turned to chagrin as we stopped and I looked at where
we were. It was a shop entitled "Exotic Leather Goods."

"I need to grab a few things to ensure that you learn your lesson
properly. Don't do anything naughty while I'm gone."

So there I was, tied into the passenger seat for any passers by to see,
trapped in a feminine appearance and clothing with an artificial penis
filling my mouth. Now that we'd stopped, the tinted windows weren't nearly
dark enough.

Suddenly, I saw a man approaching, walking towards the car. He was
casually looking at each of them as he passed by. Would he notice me
through the window? My heart was racing a mile a minute. Just as it
looked as if he would pass right by, he stopped and did a double take. HE
SAW ME! He stood there looking in the window for at least a full minute
with a big grin on his face while I tried to become invisible. Just about
that time my wife came up to the car with a bag in her hand.

"Enjoying the view?" she casually asked the man.

"Sure am, honey," he replied with a leer. "Do you always keep her tied
up like that?" He thought I was a real woman!

"She prefers it that way," my wife laughed. "She's my display model.
Feel free to look all you want, but don't touch."

The man kept up his lewd stare while Ellen loaded her purchases. He
waved gaily, still laughing, as he walked away. With that she got in
started the car. As she drove us home, she said, "I was planning to take
you out for a nice dinner and dancing tonight, but you obviously

don't deserve a reward like that yet. So, instead I'm going to teach
you a lesson in obedience. When I'm through with you, you'll beg me to
dress you up in sexy outfits so you can show off."

brother, was I in trouble. I was afraid to even think of what my
"lesson" would be. I was sure that it would not be pleasant, but I knew
there was no way she could make good on her promise that I'd want her to
expose me publicly.

Finally, we pulled into the garage. My wife leaned over and connected
my wrist cuffs to the collar. After that she disconnected my hands from
the headrest, giving me no chance to get free. She then reached into her
big purse, pulled out a leash, and connected it to the collar. Getting her
bag, my wife got out of the car and came around to my door. I still could
not move because I was strapped in by the seat belt. She unhooked it and
gave a tug on the leash.

"Come along now, Sheila," she ordered as we walked into the house. We
stopped in the kitchen.

"The first thing we need to work on is this tendency of yours to talk
back and question everything I say. After all, I can't keep that gag in
your mouth all the time. Unless, of course, you like the feel of something
shaped like a cock in your throat."

I shook my head violently.

"Well then, you need to show me that you can behave. Believe me, I hate
keeping that beautiful mouth of yours gagged all the time. There are so
many better uses for it."

Having said that she pulled what looked like a leather sleeve with some
laces running down the length out of the bag of things she'd just bought.
She then walked out of the room for a few seconds and returned with several
pieces of rope. She unlocked the wrist cuffs and had me

put my hands behind my back. She then secured them with the hands
facing.

Next, she picked up the sleeve and slid it up my arms, securing it with
some straps in front of my shoulder, guaranteeing that it would not come
off. Then she began tightening the laces, straightening my arms and
pulling my elbows together until they were about four inches apart.

It hurt like hell and forced me to pull my shoulders back and arch my
back to accommodate the position of my arms. My arms and shoulders began
to ache almost immediately.

"My, aren't you the brazen little slut!" she laughed as she looked at
me. I had to admit that the way my back was arched did throw out my chest,
emphasizing my big breasts. Next, she took a long length of rope, tied it
to a ring on the sleeve below my hands and ran it to a hook in the ceiling.
That ring! She'd had me put that in the ceiling last week to hold a heavy
planter. How long had she been planning this? A tug on the rope brought
me back to the present. As she pulled on the rope, it forced me to bend at
the waist while she pulled my arms towards the ceiling. Tying the rope off
onto a doorknob, she commented, "There, that should keep you. Comfy?"

Hardly! I was still in those ridiculous heels and this position forced
all of my weight onto my toes, which were already in agony. Adding to
this, the bent over position made the corset so tight that I was gasping
for breath in tiny pants. I felt like I was going to pass out.

The next thing I knew she was pulling my dress up over my waist,
exposing my pantied bottom. Then she pulled the panties down around my
ankles.

"Are you ready for your first punishment?"

I had no way to say no, of course.

She fumbled around in the bag. When I looked, she had pulled out a
leather paddle. There was no doubt what her intended target was. Bound as
I was, there was also not a single thing that I could do about it.

SMACK! She connected right on my bare ass with a stinging blow. "I
think that fifty good ones is about right for talking back to your
mistress, don't you?"

SMACK! She continued. After about twenty, I lost all control and was
crying like a baby. Each stroke seemed to sting more than the one before
it. Finally, she reached fifty. My entire behind felt like it was on
fire. She then pulled the panties up and pulled my hem down again.

"That was just your first punishment. I told you that you would never
forget this lesson. I'll be back in a little while. I'm going to take a
shower and rest a bit. My arms are tired. Don't go anywhere."

Her arms were tired! At my ass and thigh's expense! I stood there,
miserably bent over, dreading the next punishment, and wondering what it
would be.

3. Chapter - Punishment

I'm sure my wife was gone no more than an hour, but it felt like days. I
was trapped there, standing on my cramping toes in those tall high heels,
bent forward at the waist, exposing my swat-inflamed, pink pantied rear
under the hem of my short peach dress. My eyes burned

from sweat and tear-dissolved makeup that'd run into them while she
spanked me with the heavy leather paddle. I could barely breathe because
of the way I was tied and tight corset cinching my waist into nothingness.
There was nothing for me to do but suffer and ruminate on my situation.

I was trapped by more than my agonizing posture. She'd taken pictures
of me and threatened to give them to my boss and secretary if I gave her
any trouble for the next two weeks of my surprise vacation. She'd made me
watch her drop them off at a fifty-minute photo place at the

mall, and I was positive she had the prints hidden somewhere I'd never
find them. All because I'd secretly tried on her panties and a few other
clothes a couple of times! Okay, to tell the truth, it was more than a
couple of times. Now, she was determined to turn me into Sheila, a sexy
little crossdresser who'd beg to be allowed to go out dancing so she could
be seen and admired!

A dizzy wave of pain made me start crying again. I suddenly stiffened.
What if that wasn't all she wanted to make me do? What if she was trying
to do more than show off my cute ass and pouty red mouth? She'd already
called me 'slut' a couple of times. What if she meant it?

I almost fainted. I had to end this before it went any further. She'd
promised me still more punishment, and I didn't think I could take any
more. Maybe, if I acted the way she wanted, she'd relent. More
importantly, if I cooperated, there was sure to be a chance to catch her
off guard and escape before any real damage was done.

By the time I finally heard the door open, I was in such total agony
that thinking of ways to escape my feminization was the last thing on my
mind. I'd have done anything simply to be allowed to stand up straight. I
was dizzy from the unending struggle to breathe. My legs

were cramped into fiery pillars of pain. I tried to sob out around the
penis gag what was supposed to be her name.

"Well, well," she drawled from behind me, "don't you look sexy! How's
that nice little ass feel now, Sheila? Still hot and pink as your
panties?"

I heard her walking across the vinyl floor until she was right behind
me. Between my quivering legs, I saw that she'd changed into some shoes I'd
never seen before. The black high heels must have been six inches tall and
were tipped with narrow metal spikes. Her ankles were

covered in black mesh hose. I jumped when I felt her hand on my ass,
then tried to stand very still for whatever she was going to do. She
petted me between my cheeks.

"Is it too tender, darling? Oh, dear. It's hard to answer me with that
nasty gag in your mouth, isn't it?"

I nodded frantically.

"Will you be a good girl if I take it out?"

I nodded so hard that time that I almost dislocated my shoulders.

I gasped the instant the thing slid out of my dried lips. I wanted to
scream at her to turn me loose. Instead, I croaked out, "Thank you."

"Why you're quite welcome, dear. Would you like to stand up?"

"Please!" My voice shook wildly.

"One little thing, and I'll loosen the rope." I heard her dig through
the bag of things she'd bought and wondered what my next torture was. She
tugged my panties down and ran a finger lubricated with something cold and
slick over my exposed asshole. Then, she eased the finger inside me. It hurt like hell, but what could I do? If I screamed or
protested, she'd do it anyway and leave me tied in this bent forward
position - or something worse. I gritted my teeth and endured as best as I
could.

She wiggled the finger inside me and ran it in and out a couple of
times. Cold sweat again popped out all over me, but there was a strange
heat, also. When she pulled her hand away, I thought she was finished.
Then I felt something cold and hard being pressed into me,

something much fatter than a finger. It spread me so wide I thought I
was going to have to scream, then narrowed, letting my sphincter muscle
clamp around it.

"Very good, honey. In case you're wondering, that's your very own butt
plug. I'm sure it's painful, but you'll get used to it. I expect you to
wear it at all times unless I tell you otherwise. Is that clear?"

I nodded jerkily.

"Say it!"

"Yes," I choked out. "I understand."

When she unhooked the rope from the doorknob and let me stand, I
staggered and almost collapsed. Even the tiny breathing space the tight
corset gave me felt wonderful. I gasped as deep lungfuls of air as I
could. I barely noticed her loosening the long leather sleeve laced up my
arms, locking my elbows together, but I was sure aware of the added freedom
and the lessening torture.

She had to help me to a chair, holding me by my wrists, still cuffed
behind my back. I hissed when I sat, both from tender ass cheeks and the
suddenly more noticeable discomfort of the thing buried in my ass.

Until then, I hadn't looked at her, and what I saw shocked and
frightened me. She looked nothing at all like my wife! She was wearing a
shiny, form-fitting black latex bodysuit that looked

something like wildly cut one piece swimwear. There was a seam down the
middle decorated with silver studs. The outfit made her nipples stand out
and was buried in the valley between her pussy lips. The stiletto heels
made her much taller than I was, even in the five inch heels I wore. Her
eyes were made up in a way that reminded me of Cleopatra, with immense
lashes and eyeliner and silver eye shadow drawn out almost to her temples.
Her lips were a deep, deep red that made

her teeth look too white. "Oh dear, you look terrible! Have you been
ruining your makeup by crying?"

I nodded, shocked by her appearance. I heard myself whine, "It hurt."

"It was supposed to," she said like she was explaining something obvious
to a c***d. "And that was nothing compared to what I'll do if you start
misbehaving again." She tied my bound wrists to the chair and brought me
some water. I sipped thirstily until I noticed how badly I had to pee.
It'd been a long time since I'd used the toilet. And about then the blood
flowing through my arms began to tingle, then burn, hurting almost as badly
as being tied had.

"It'll pass," she said with a grin.

"Can I use the bathroom? Please?"

"Soon. But first we've got to get you looking pretty again. Do you
know how much the makeover you ruined cost?"

So she led me back to the bedroom. I couldn't help noticing how the
butt plug made me walk even more enticingly than I had merely in the high
heels. Was there no end to my humiliation? I had to endure another
eternal thirty minutes at her vanity before I was allowed to pee - sitting
down, of course, with my wife standing there impatiently. I couldn't help
but sigh my relief as yet more room was made for me to breathe. As I stood
for her to pull my panties up, I was amazed that I felt almost comfortable
in the corset and heels.

"Such a sexy smile," she observed, tucking my penis back between my
legs. Her fingers lingered there. Her incredibly lush, wet lips hovered
inches from mine, and I felt myself begin to harden in her hand. "Do you
feel good, love?"

"A little," I confessed, reminding myself that I had to go along with
her mad game.

"Don't you feel pretty?"

"Kind of."

"Pretty enough to go out to dinner now?"

I blushed. "I'm awfully tired. Can we do that another time?" My penis
was at full erection by then, and she was showing no sign of stopping.

"But you would if I insisted?"

My hips rocked in time with her caress under my short skirt. "I'd have
to. I know what'd happen if I tried to fight you."

"Oh, no you don't," she whispered into my face. "It'd be a hundred
times worse than you can imagine, Sheila. Trust me on that. You don't
want to ever do anything that'd make me angry. Never again. Understand?"

I nodded, feeling her stroking hand more clearly than I heard her soft
words. The way she was rubbing me through the silky material of the
panties was driving me wild. I parted my lips, leaning forward to kiss
her. She quickly pulled away and squeezed my balls with enough force to
make me feel nauseated.

"Ah, ah! None of that, darling. I'll not have you smearing that pretty
lipstick of yours until I tell you to. Is my baby getting all hot? Her
sweet clittie's swollen so big. Would she like me to make her cum?"

"Yes," I whispered. "Please."

"You'd cum in your panties and then sleep in them?"

"Yes. I don't care. Just -"

"You'd lick and suck my pussy until I told you to stop, and then cum in
them for me?"

Oral sex had always disgusted me. "Yes! Anything you want!"

She dropped her hand and took me back to the bedroom, pushing me to my
knees beside the bed. She quickly opened a velcro closure hidden under the
metal studs of the bodysuit and peeled away a strip of fabric that'd
covered her groin. She straddled my head and sat on the edge of

the mattress. I stared in shock between her legs. She'd shaved her
pussy sometime in the week or more since we'd last made love. Her
pinkish-brown labia shone with moisture.

"Kiss those lips, Sheila. French kiss that mouth, you little slut.
Tongue fuck it like you mean it and maybe I'll let you cum."

I was repelled by the thought, but knew it was my only way to get
gratification, and that resistance would mean real trouble. I made myself
lean forward and hesitantly lap at her.

"No!" she yelled, grabbing me by my wig and slamming my face into her,
humping my nose with her hips. "Do it, you fag slut, or we'll go out and
pick somebody up to fuck YOU!"

I did it with every bit of energy I could summon. Little by little, my
disgust faded. I was turning her on! Her thrusts and approving curses
were heartfelt. I'd never heard her even half so aroused when we made love
normally. My penis strained inside the tight panties as I eagerly

wallowed between her legs, licking and sucking wherever she told me to
and going fast or slow according to her commands.

When she orgasmed, I thought she was going to smother me. She screamed
and her legs clamped around me like steel bands, trapping both my mouth and
nose. Her pussy twitched around my tongue and my nose nuzzled her clit.
Just as I started seeing black dots dancing in front of my eyes, she spread
her legs and I came up gasping for air.

I felt right on the edge of cumming myself. I looked down and saw that
the hem of my hose clad legs were spread wide. My dress had slid up high
enough to show the garters and the panties beneath. My cock was still
almost invisible, pointing toward my butt. It looked like I had a girl's
middle, and I was so turned on I was about to die! I'd never wanted to cum
so bad in my whole life, and I couldn't reach out to jack off. I tried to
pull my legs together, hoping that maybe I could rub my thighs together and
get off that way. It didn't work.

I heard my wife laugh. "Would my horny baby like to cum in her panties
now? Would she like to rub her clit with those sexy hands for me?"

I saw that she was laying back on the bed, staring down at me from
between her legs. She was stroking her clit, just like her words were
describing.

"Would you like me to fix your nasty mouth so you can be pretty for me,
and jack off for me like a dirty little slut?"

"Yes! Oh, god, please!"

When she helped me up, she didn't have to tell me to lay down on the
bed. I did it on my own. She spread my legs and snapped handcuffs attached
to the bedframe around my ankles. Then she freed my hands from behind my
back, clicking the left wrist to the bed over my head. The right one she
set free.

"Now do it slow, Sheila. You can't cum until I tell you to."

I was almost oblivious by then. My hand felt clumsy after being
imprisoned for so long, but it flew straight to my middle. She slapped it
away and pinned my arm under her weight.

"Listen to me, cunt! Unless you do it MY way, you don't get to do it at
all! Now just lay there until I say so!"

I panted while she swayed to the vanity to bring what she needed to
repair my face again. I begged her to hurry. Her hand lightly tickled my
painful balls and I cooperated to the max, holding my mouth open like I was
hungry for the lipstick, turning my head this way and that

so she could powder my cheeks and chin to her satisfaction.

"God, you're a sexy whore, Sheila! Now do exactly as I say. First,
lift your skirt out of the way. Now scratch the length of your clit with
those nasty red fingernails!"

The sc**** of my long nails through the silk almost made me shoot off
right then. I dimly heard the click of the shutter as she took more
pictures, but there was nothing I could do about it. I knew I was angling
my hips up provocatively, but I had to in order to reach myself.

"Feel good, honey? I wish you could see how sexy you are," she cooed.
"Now stick your hand inside the panties and rub it, just a little."

The thrill was electrifying! It took every bit of willpower I owned not
to jerk it just the once it'd take to send me over. But my wife's ominous
warning rang in my ears. I may have whined, but I didn't cum.

"Perfect baby! Now push your panties down under your balls. I want to
see it. I want to watch that pretty hand make you shoot cum up in the air.
NO! NOT YET! I want you to just hold it for a second, just squeeze it.
Feel how good it feels."

I was dying. My ears were ringing and my whole body was stiff. I was
panting like a dog. "Please! Please," I howled.

"Tell me your name, slut! Tell me who you are and I'll let you cum!"

"Sheila," I shrieked. "I'm Sheila!"

"And you just love looking sexy, don't you!"

"Yes! Yes!"

"Beg me to take you dancing tomorrow night!"

"Please take me out! Anywhere you want!"

"Do you want to show off? Do you want to wear that nasty black
minidress and tall heels and bright make up? Show everybody what a hot
little slut you are?"

"Yes! I'll do it!"

"Do you WANT to do it?"

"Yes! Yes! I want to be a slut and let everybody see me!"

"Then cum for me, Sheila! Rub your fat clit and cum!"

The explosion ripped through me like lightning. My first blast of sperm
must have shot two feet in the air. There were many more spurts to follow,
and my flying hand was slick with it long before I was finished. I
collapsed onto the mattress, weak as a baby.

She touched my shrinking penis, and I gasped. It was so sensitive I
couldn't stand it. I heard her low chuckle, but she relented and lifted
her hand. She brushed my lips with her fingers, and I

automatically kissed them, tasting something salty and sticky.

My drowsy eyes sprang open. It was my cum! I jerked my head away.

Her voice was a frightening growl. "Do you really want to make me
angry, Sheila? Do you really want to resist me? Are you ready for a hot,
long dick to slide up your asshole?"

My eyes threatened to overflow. "No," I whispered.

"Then lick every drop of cum from my fingers like a good slut."

More humiliated than I'd been while giving the clerks my charge card, or
even having the man leer at me through the car windows, I did what she
demanded. She scooped every last bit of sperm off my dress and slack penis
and made me swallow it. Finally, after I'd licked my own

hand clean, she was satisfied.

After she'd made me change into a red teddy, she chained me to the foot
of the bed and made me sleep on a blanket on the floor. She'd loosened my
girdle a little, but made me sleep in make up and the wig. The butt plug
was still there, too. She fed me a can of diet milkshake and a

tiny salad.

"You need to get used to being this way, Sheila. And this IS the way
you're going to be for the next two weeks. Maybe longer, if you give me
any trouble. I can't wait to get our next photos back. They'll show
anybody who sees them just how much you love living this way."

The renewed threat to give them to my boss cowed me even further. I'd
never been so miserable in my life. She'd reminded me, as she handcuffed
me to the bedframe, of what she'd said earlier.

"I told you, Sheila. I knew you didn't believe me then, but now you
know. I made you beg me to go out and flaunt your slutty body, just like I
said I would."

I cried as quietly as I could in the darkness. Somehow, some way, I HAD
to get out of this!

4. Chapter - Adjustments

I woke up stiff and sore, with the thing in my ass hurting like hell.
That and being on the floor were instant reminders of everything that'd
happened. I tried a deep breath but was stopped by the corset. I had to
sweep the wig's hair out of my mouth. My fingernails startled me so

much that my handcuffs clinked on the bed.

The mattress moved and my wife's sleepy face peered down at me. "Good
morning, Sheila? Did you sleep okay?"

A bitter retort was on my lips when I saw her face turn hard. I
swallowed my protest. "Um, it was okay."

She looked pleased. "That's the spirit, darling! What a good girl
you're being! Just for that, I'll let you go to the bathroom alone."

I tried to hide the hope surging through me by looking down at the floor
and thanking her. My heart was pounding. She dashed it by holding up a
pair cuffs with a short length of chain between them. She clicked them
around my ankles before unlocking me from the bed, and

made me put on the five inch heels. I had to take short mincing steps.
Even if I could get away from her, where could I go in a corset and teddy
with shackles on my legs? Seeing my dismay, she laughed heartily as I
walked delicately from the room.

I hated seeing myself in the mirror. There was still sleep worn
lipstick on my mouth, eyeliner around my eyes, and flakes of mascara all
over my cheeks. The brown wig was a tangled mop. Under the teddy I was as
hairless as my wife, and the corset showing through the lacy lingerie
showed a shape as nice as hers, too. I could barely see a man beneath all
that. The haggard woman in the mirror looked familiar, like my twin sister
might have if I had one.

I felt foolish standing to pee, having to hold the red teddy out of the
way, but I was damned if I'd squat unless I had to. The long red
fingernails embarrassed me as they touched my heavy morning cock. I had to
look away as I did my business.

I tried to think. I could take a razor out with me to use as a weapon -
but they were all the disposable kind and wouldn't work. Not that I could
really hurt her, not even for this. But maybe I could convince her I meant
business. To my dismay, there were no scissors, no nothing. Every
conceivable weapon had been taken away. I almost cried in frustration, and
managed not to only by reminding myself how feminine a reaction that'd be.

I pulled myself together. There'd be another time, other chances, if I
played my cards right. Hating what I had to do, I tugged a brush through
the wig and rinsed my face and mouth. I tried a practice smile, but it was
too scary. I had to stay away from mirrors.

She arched an eyebrow when I traipsed back out with as much enthusiasm
as I could find. "Why you little darling! You cleaned up for me!"

"Would you like me to bring you coffee in bed?" I asked her remembering
to speak softly in as feminine a voice as I could muster.

"What? And leave you in the kitchen with all those sharp things?
Honey, you might hurt yourself."

Obviously, she knew I'd try something and wasn't going to give me the
opening I needed. I choked back a burst of rage. "I'd be very careful."

"I'm sure you would, darling. But not this time. Sit down there and
get started on your face, my little cum lover. I'll make the coffee."

She cuffed my legs to the back legs of the vanity's chair and roped my
chest tightly to the back. I might be able to reach the knot, I thought.

"Now do a good job, honey. I want you to look pretty. Remember, we've
got an appointment to get your hair done this afternoon."

"But I can't!" I protested. "I don't know how!"

"Come darling," she warned as she turned away. "You've watched me
hundreds of time, and Cindy and I showed you exactly how it needs to be
done. Do it and do it right, or else!"

The moment she was out of sight, I tried the knot. It was tight, and I
could get no leverage because of the angle of my wrists. I fumbled with it
anyway, desperately, but to no avail. Again tears threatened me. This
time I couldn't hold them off. Once I started, I couldn't stop.

I'd never felt anything like that in my life. I was terrified and
helpless. She was outsmarting me at every turn. I was horrified - she was
winning! She WAS going to be able to make me do whatever she demanded, no
matter how sick or twisted. I was never going to be able to resist her. I
was still crying when she came back fifteen minutes later. Her deep scowl
made me try harder to dam the flood.

"You haven't even started!" she accused angrily.

"I ... I ..." I stammered hopelessly.

"You worthless little bitch! That does it!" She stormed toward me.
There was no way to flee from her. I covered my face with my arms and
sobbed anew. But she didn't go for my face. Her slap landed squarely
between my legs. I doubled up with a sick groan. She wrenched one arm

behind my back and twisted. A cold cuff went around my wrist.

"Give me the other arm!"

I did.

"Why you thankless bitch! You broke a nail messing with that knot,
trying to get away! Oh, you'll pay for that, too!" She jerked me to my
feet by my arms, causing me to yell in pain. She dragged me into the
bathroom and pushed me into the tub, still wearing what I'd slept in. She
jerked off my high heels, then turned the water on, adjusting it until it
was almost scalding hot. I was too afraid to protest. At least I'd quit
crying. She quickly reattached the handcuffs around a

very solid towel rack. With a sinking heart, I remembered I'd installed
it for her three weeks ago. More evidence that she'd been planning this
for a very long time!

To the burning water, she added fragrant bath salts and oils. She
reached under me and with a cruel jerk, removed the plug that almost felt
like part of my ass.

"You've earned the next larger size, cunt. We've got to get you
loosened up and ready for a big fat real cock, don't we? After all, we
don't want it to hurt you so much you can't enjoy the way it's going slide
in and out of you."

That was more than enough to make me sob all over again. "Please," I
begged her softly, "Not that. Anything but that."

"Anything, Sheila? You mean that anything's better than having a man
lift your sexy legs over his shoulders and spread those cute buns under
your dress and hammer you with his cock?"

"Yes!" I wailed hysterically. "Anything!"

"Oh, baby," she laughed, "I'm going to make you remember what you just
said. When you're crying this hard, begging me to let you have a cock up
your ass, I'll remind you. And you will, you know. Just like you did last
night."

With the steaming tub filled to the rim, she left me to soak and think.
Horrible scenarios ran through my mind, but none were anywhere near as bad
as what she'd said. What could be worse than having another man do that to
me? The whole thing was a nightmare, but that ...

The water was almost cool by the time she returned, and I was having
trouble. It was like the butt plug had already loosened my asshole, and I
was sweating as I tried to keep my bowels from emptying in the bathwater.

"Toilet!" I begged the instant the door opened.

"Oh, my! Do we have a problem, darling?" I barely noticed that she was
in makeup as wild as the night before and wearing an ebony minidress that
looked as wet and skin tight as her bodysuit had.

"I need to shit! Please!"

She giggled merrily. "We can't have that, can we? You'd have to walk
around all day smelling of your own shit!" She put a theatrically
thoughtful red nail before her thick scarlet lips. "Now let me see. What
did I do with those keys?"

I realized as she turned away that she wasn't coming back. I knew the
keys were just outside the door on an end table. And she didn't return
until she heard the forlorn wail I made fifteen minutes later as my
stretched sphincter finally released. I was straining to keep as much

of my body out of the filth as I could and crying like a lost toddler.

She clucked her tongue at me and looked disgusted. "Well, Sheila.
That's your third fuck up already, and you've only been awake an hour.
What am I going to do with you? I'm only going to be able to have you
fucked by a few men before it's more reward than punishment."

"I'm sorry! I'll behave! I swear to God I will. Please, Ellen, give
me one more chance!" I knew she was maneuvering me, but it was all I could
do.

She walked up to the side of the tub, petted my damp wig with her hand.
I looked up, pleading with my eyes. I could see right up her skirt, see
that she wasn't wearing any panties, just garters to hold up her seamed
hose. Her naked pussy pouted down at me. I remembered how it tasted. Her
searing red mouth smiled. "Anything, darling. That's what you said.
Remember? Now take a deep breath and relax."

With that, she unlocked my hands. I knew what was coming. Nausea
welled up in me as she pushed my head under the water I'd soiled. At least
she let me shower and scrub myself clean, even though I didn't feel that
way. It didn't feel like I'd ever be able to get clean. I hated her for
what she'd done - all of it, not just in the bathtub. But it was a strange
hatred, more fear than anger, if that makes sense. It didn't to me. I was
more and more convinced that I wasn't going to be able to escape her - ever. My self-confidence had been eaten away
over the past day until I doubted everything except her cunning.

Somehow, being naked was even worse than wearing the corset and teddy
had been. My hairlessness seemed all the reminder I needed. I wrapped a
towel around me to hide as much of myself as I could while I shaved my
light beard as smooth as was humanly possible. I knew the towel was a
feminine gesture, but I couldn't stand seeing myself that way.

When I finally minced out of the bathroom in my shackles, holding my
shampooed wig in my hand, she acted like nothing had ever happened. She
was chatty, in a kind of girl to girl way. She'd loaded a tray with fresh
fruit and coffee. My mouth watered as I ate my share and tried to make
light conversation. She was critical of my voice, but not in a vicious
way. As she cleared the scant meal, she told me to do my makeup like a good
girl.

I promptly tried to imitate what had been done to me several times the
day before. I'd been paying no attention, and was finding the task
overwhelming. I swallowed my fear and meekly asked for her help. I
watched her expressionless face as she approached, fearful of her
wrath, but her smile made me try to, also.

"Of course, my love. I'm so happy you asked." She pressed her soft
breasts against the back of my head as she hugged me. "I'd love to help
make you beautiful. But," she warned tenderly, "you must learn to do it
for yourself, or I'll be upset."

"I will," I vowed, relishing the feel of her chest wrapping around me.
"Uh, by the way, I think you're beautiful today." It was the most truthful
thing I'd said all day.

"Um," she purred, sliding her hands down my smooth chest, playing with
my nipples, rubbing her breasts more firmly against me. "Thank you, lover.
I knew you'd like it as much as I do."

She let her hands slide lower still, grasped my growing member in a
gentle hand. "God, you make me so hot," she whispered, staring at me via
the mirror. "You've done your lips even better than I did. Such a sweet
red pout - but you should never start with lipstick, baby. Oohh.

My cunt's dripping, thinking about how good they'd feel kissing it like
you did last night. You gave me the best orgasm I've ever had, Sheila. I
want to sixty-nine with you, lick your clit until we both cum."

"I want that, too," I panted hotly, imagining my cock in that sweltering
red mouth. I spoke what I hoped she wanted to hear. "Let me lick you
again. Let me fuck you with my tongue."

She kept me stone hard and sweaty until she'd coached me through the
whole makeover. Then she forced me into a second corset, this one red, and
let me play with myself and her heavy breasts as she stretched the laces
tighter and tighter. She warned me over and over not to cum

until she gave me permission. I had to put the breast forms in myself.
Satisfied, she pushed me to the carpet and straddled my face.

"Eat me, whore," was her final command before lowering her head toward
my big, raging clit.

It didn't take either one of us long. I couldn't wait for her to tell
me to let go. She started writhing on my face as her orgasm hit her, and
mine erupted wildly moments later. She didn't seem to mind, as she moaned
loudly, despite her mouthful, and sucked mightily. I was still lazily
licking her when she li