Fate
- 3 years ago
- 20
- 0
My Fate free porn video
Oh dear!
Remember the self-confident, virile, young, up-and-coming business executive, with the trophy wife, you were, or were pretending to be, on your wedding day?
Look at you now!
An emasculated, sissy faggot locked in chastity, made up like a pretty girl, dressed in stockings,and high heels and panties, prostrate and helpless before one of your wife’s lovers, as he pumps your mouth full of his residual cum after he has pumped her to delirium!
You thought, when you true on your first pair of stockings and panties, that it was just an innocent curiosity. You kept doing it, taking it further and further each time. But like an alcoholic, or habitual gambler, you “knew” you could give it up at any time and would go on to leave the model life of a successful business man.
Before long you found yourself, like a d**g addict, needing a bigger hit each time. You started taking bigger risks - wearing stockings and lingerie under your well-cut power-suit; buying make-up, wigs; jewellery and wandering out at night dressed as a woman; going to gay clubs out of town dressed as a woman, pushing into new levels of risk and sluttiness each time.
Then one day, sitting at a bar, after a few drinks you find yourself talking to a well built, virile man, a little older than you. He flirts with you. You are enjoying the game and tell yourself it’s harmless.
Next he has his strong, warm, manly gently hand caressing your pantyhose sheathed thigh and knee. You find it surprisingly pleasant and allow it to continue as you have a few more drinks. After all, it’s a bit of harmless play and innocent curiosity andyou are in control of the situation.
Next his had is up your skirt, softly caressing your tucked, and now swelling, “clitty” through you pantyhose and panties. The his mouth engulfs yours as he gently pulls you head back and the thrusts his tongue into you mouth.
Suddenly you are powerless to resist this powerful and compelling seduction. You are aware others are watching but can do nothing. You feel him remove your chiffon scarf from around your neck as he uses it to gently, but firmly bind your rusts behind your back.
He gently, but firmly, pushes you to your stockinged knees. You half- heartedly resist but, you know it’s pointless. You don’t have the assertiveness or the will power to do so. Next you find you head being pulled towards his crotch. Before you know it his swelling manhood is being thrust into your lipsticked mouth.
This is completely uncharted waters for you - something you were certain you’d never do. The smell of his manhood; the throbbing cock in your mouth - you find it somewhat repulsive, and a few times you nearly choke to the,point of regurgitation.
But you know you can’t stop it. And the helpless emasculation and humiliation, together the the quintessentially feminine nature of your situation leaves you also feeling intensely aroused.
Suddenly you feel a pulsing spurt, as his load empties in my mouth. He withdraws and holds your mouth shut, instructing you to swallow, as he shakes his still swollen member to empty out any residual cum over your face, your wig and your peach satin blouse.
As he tucks his cock back inside his trousers you are left kneeling helplessly and vulerable, there before him; your hands still bound behind you.
You are aware of others in the bar - gay men; lesbians; a few curious groups of straight females - all focused on you. It’s humiliating but intensely arousing.
Suddenly he placed his hands under you arms and pulls you to your feet. Your hands still immobilised behind you, he resumes caressing your pantyhose covered thighs and your swelling “clitty” tucked, now somewhat uncomfortably, between you legs.
You are so aroused that you begin to shoot you sissy load almost immediately into you panties and pantyhose as you become totally weak at the knees and collapse weekly, and helplessly into his other arm.
Suddenly it is all over. You are spent and exhausted, standing there in a tight black satin mini skirt, pantyhose, high heels, - his cum all over your face an blouse; yours soaking you panties and pantyhose - your hands still bound helplessly behind you as you lean limply into the powerful man that has just conquered you.
As he anties the scarf that has immobilised your hands behind you, you catch your breath and start to look around. All eyes in the bar are on you. Everyone has just witnessed your abject defeat and surrender; your comprehensive emasculation.
Your load spent, the situation is no longer as arousing as it seemed st the time.
Suddenly you see yourself not as the sexily attractive woman you dressed up to be, but, as everyone else sees your - a man dressed up in women’s clothes, who has just been used as a sexual plaything by another man.
You contrast this with the cognitive self-image you have created for yourself. You feel repulsed by what you have just done; by how you look. You see yourself as a sissy; a faggot!
You run from the bar through the street still crowded with vanilla partygoers. You are overcome with self-consciousness; your face and your clothes still visibly coverd in a mans cum; you, an obvious man in womens clothing; your own cum starting to dribble from your crotch down you stockinged legs. You run as fast as you can in your heels to your car and drive homes quickly as you can.
You lie awake all night thinking about it; trying to rationalise what happened. You convince yourself that your feeling of revulsion confirms that you are not gay. Maybe this event will help you stop the crossdressing.
For a few weeks after, you resist your stash of women’s clothing. You tell yourself that you’ve shaken the habit.
Then, one night alone at home, you feel bored. A little frisky!
Just like one drink can’t do any harm with an alcoholic, just dressing one more time to relieve the loneliness; the sexual tension built up over a few weeks of abstinence; and the boom, can’t hurt.
Can it?
You find yourself reliving that night. Aroused by the sexual intensity, the girlyness; the sissiness and the humiliation of it. And the intense and nauseating feeling of worthlessness and shame when you have ejaculated into your panties.
You thought that when you married and settled into married life and regular sexual activity with your wife it would all stop and go away.
I’d didn’t.
Instead, you find yourself preferring sex with your wife whilst she is dressed. You try to hide that you are more aroused by her clothes than her naked body. You pass it off as a little hapless kinkiness.
Eventually, you start trying on her clothes when she is not around.
Your “business trips” become more frequent, because you dressing opportunities have become more restricted.
You sex life with your wife becomes almost non existent.
One day you come home and find your wife in bed with another. You feign anger, but you know who is at fault.
During the deep, soul-searching conversation that follows, she tells you that if you had been a “real man”, capable of satisfying her sexually, this would not have happened.
Nervously, you ask you what she meant by “if you had been a ‘real’ man”.
She tells you that she has seen the transvestite pornography on your computer; that she has found the signs of your wearing her clothes and the she has found your suitcase with your sissy maids’ uniforms and other women’s clothes and “kinky gear”.
She knows that many of your our-of-town business trips had nothing to do with business. She goes to her cupboards and produces copies of your emails lining up meetings with other sissies and transvestites; professional mistresses and even men. They detail some of the degrading acts you have taken part in.
Your face burned with humiliation. Suddenly, it is you that occupies the moral low ground. You have been cuckolded but have nowhere to move.
Your stomach is knotted with nauseous anxiety and your thoughts overcome with self-conscious humiliation. You know your life will never be the same again, but you don’t know where this is headed.
Suddenly, you find yourself going to work everyday wearing stockings or pantyhose and frilly sissy panties, together with a permanently locked heavy steel chastity belt under your power suit. You try to maintain your familiar confident and assertive personality at work. But you know you are no longer the man you once thought you were.
The stockings or pantyhose, panties and the ever frustrating steel chastity belt leave you feeling self-conscious of the emasculated sissy that lurks beneath the masculine facade.
You know that you cannot go out and enjoy a drink with your work buddies. You have to go home as soon as your working day is finished and change into a stain maids uniform, frill petticoats and stilettos, apply your makeup and do as she commands.
You know that she will regularly invite male company, and that you must sit there in your stockings, heels and panties, playing frustratedly with your chastity device whilst your trophy wife is consumed by another man; whilst she mocks you in front of him, about what a pathetic sissy loser you are; about how her male company is providing her with the real sexual fulfilment you were incapable of giving her.
So here you sit in your stockings and heels, frustrated, degraded, emasculated and humiliated as her lover pumps his cum into your mouth and over you face.
You wonder where it all went wrong. When did you pass the point of no return?Or were you always destined to be a cock-sucking sissy cuckold?
It doesn’t really matter. You are here. You have accepted what you have become - what you are. Make the most it. It’s better than thing it and pretending to be what you are not and can never be.
Remember the self-confident, virile, young, up-and-coming business executive, with the trophy wife, you were, or were pretending to be, on your wedding day?
Look at you now!
An emasculated, sissy faggot locked in chastity, made up like a pretty girl, dressed in stockings,and high heels and panties, prostrate and helpless before one of your wife’s lovers, as he pumps your mouth full of his residual cum after he has pumped her to delirium!
You thought, when you true on your first pair of stockings and panties, that it was just an innocent curiosity. You kept doing it, taking it further and further each time. But like an alcoholic, or habitual gambler, you “knew” you could give it up at any time and would go on to leave the model life of a successful business man.
Before long you found yourself, like a d**g addict, needing a bigger hit each time. You started taking bigger risks - wearing stockings and lingerie under your well-cut power-suit; buying make-up, wigs; jewellery and wandering out at night dressed as a woman; going to gay clubs out of town dressed as a woman, pushing into new levels of risk and sluttiness each time.
Then one day, sitting at a bar, after a few drinks you find yourself talking to a well built, virile man, a little older than you. He flirts with you. You are enjoying the game and tell yourself it’s harmless.
Next he has his strong, warm, manly gently hand caressing your pantyhose sheathed thigh and knee. You find it surprisingly pleasant and allow it to continue as you have a few more drinks. After all, it’s a bit of harmless play and innocent curiosity andyou are in control of the situation.
Next his had is up your skirt, softly caressing your tucked, and now swelling, “clitty” through you pantyhose and panties. The his mouth engulfs yours as he gently pulls you head back and the thrusts his tongue into you mouth.
Suddenly you are powerless to resist this powerful and compelling seduction. You are aware others are watching but can do nothing. You feel him remove your chiffon scarf from around your neck as he uses it to gently, but firmly bind your rusts behind your back.
He gently, but firmly, pushes you to your stockinged knees. You half- heartedly resist but, you know it’s pointless. You don’t have the assertiveness or the will power to do so. Next you find you head being pulled towards his crotch. Before you know it his swelling manhood is being thrust into your lipsticked mouth.
This is completely uncharted waters for you - something you were certain you’d never do. The smell of his manhood; the throbbing cock in your mouth - you find it somewhat repulsive, and a few times you nearly choke to the,point of regurgitation.
But you know you can’t stop it. And the helpless emasculation and humiliation, together the the quintessentially feminine nature of your situation leaves you also feeling intensely aroused.
Suddenly you feel a pulsing spurt, as his load empties in my mouth. He withdraws and holds your mouth shut, instructing you to swallow, as he shakes his still swollen member to empty out any residual cum over your face, your wig and your peach satin blouse.
As he tucks his cock back inside his trousers you are left kneeling helplessly and vulerable, there before him; your hands still bound behind you.
You are aware of others in the bar - gay men; lesbians; a few curious groups of straight females - all focused on you. It’s humiliating but intensely arousing.
Suddenly he placed his hands under you arms and pulls you to your feet. Your hands still immobilised behind you, he resumes caressing your pantyhose covered thighs and your swelling “clitty” tucked, now somewhat uncomfortably, between you legs.
You are so aroused that you begin to shoot you sissy load almost immediately into you panties and pantyhose as you become totally weak at the knees and collapse weekly, and helplessly into his other arm.
Suddenly it is all over. You are spent and exhausted, standing there in a tight black satin mini skirt, pantyhose, high heels, - his cum all over your face an blouse; yours soaking you panties and pantyhose - your hands still bound helplessly behind you as you lean limply into the powerful man that has just conquered you.
As he anties the scarf that has immobilised your hands behind you, you catch your breath and start to look around. All eyes in the bar are on you. Everyone has just witnessed your abject defeat and surrender; your comprehensive emasculation.
Your load spent, the situation is no longer as arousing as it seemed st the time.
Suddenly you see yourself not as the sexily attractive woman you dressed up to be, but, as everyone else sees your - a man dressed up in women’s clothes, who has just been used as a sexual plaything by another man.
You contrast this with the cognitive self-image you have created for yourself. You feel repulsed by what you have just done; by how you look. You see yourself as a sissy; a faggot!
You run from the bar through the street still crowded with vanilla partygoers. You are overcome with self-consciousness; your face and your clothes still visibly coverd in a mans cum; you, an obvious man in womens clothing; your own cum starting to dribble from your crotch down you stockinged legs. You run as fast as you can in your heels to your car and drive homes quickly as you can.
You lie awake all night thinking about it; trying to rationalise what happened. You convince yourself that your feeling of revulsion confirms that you are not gay. Maybe this event will help you stop the crossdressing.
For a few weeks after, you resist your stash of women’s clothing. You tell yourself that you’ve shaken the habit.
Then, one night alone at home, you feel bored. A little frisky!
Just like one drink can’t do any harm with an alcoholic, just dressing one more time to relieve the loneliness; the sexual tension built up over a few weeks of abstinence; and the boom, can’t hurt.
Can it?
You find yourself reliving that night. Aroused by the sexual intensity, the girlyness; the sissiness and the humiliation of it. And the intense and nauseating feeling of worthlessness and shame when you have ejaculated into your panties.
You thought that when you married and settled into married life and regular sexual activity with your wife it would all stop and go away.
I’d didn’t.
Instead, you find yourself preferring sex with your wife whilst she is dressed. You try to hide that you are more aroused by her clothes than her naked body. You pass it off as a little hapless kinkiness.
Eventually, you start trying on her clothes when she is not around.
Your “business trips” become more frequent, because you dressing opportunities have become more restricted.
You sex life with your wife becomes almost non existent.
One day you come home and find your wife in bed with another. You feign anger, but you know who is at fault.
During the deep, soul-searching conversation that follows, she tells you that if you had been a “real man”, capable of satisfying her sexually, this would not have happened.
Nervously, you ask you what she meant by “if you had been a ‘real’ man”.
She tells you that she has seen the transvestite pornography on your computer; that she has found the signs of your wearing her clothes and the she has found your suitcase with your sissy maids’ uniforms and other women’s clothes and “kinky gear”.
She knows that many of your our-of-town business trips had nothing to do with business. She goes to her cupboards and produces copies of your emails lining up meetings with other sissies and transvestites; professional mistresses and even men. They detail some of the degrading acts you have taken part in.
Your face burned with humiliation. Suddenly, it is you that occupies the moral low ground. You have been cuckolded but have nowhere to move.
Your stomach is knotted with nauseous anxiety and your thoughts overcome with self-conscious humiliation. You know your life will never be the same again, but you don’t know where this is headed.
Suddenly, you find yourself going to work everyday wearing stockings or pantyhose and frilly sissy panties, together with a permanently locked heavy steel chastity belt under your power suit. You try to maintain your familiar confident and assertive personality at work. But you know you are no longer the man you once thought you were.
The stockings or pantyhose, panties and the ever frustrating steel chastity belt leave you feeling self-conscious of the emasculated sissy that lurks beneath the masculine facade.
You know that you cannot go out and enjoy a drink with your work buddies. You have to go home as soon as your working day is finished and change into a stain maids uniform, frill petticoats and stilettos, apply your makeup and do as she commands.
You know that she will regularly invite male company, and that you must sit there in your stockings, heels and panties, playing frustratedly with your chastity device whilst your trophy wife is consumed by another man; whilst she mocks you in front of him, about what a pathetic sissy loser you are; about how her male company is providing her with the real sexual fulfilment you were incapable of giving her.
So here you sit in your stockings and heels, frustrated, degraded, emasculated and humiliated as her lover pumps his cum into your mouth and over you face.
You wonder where it all went wrong. When did you pass the point of no return?Or were you always destined to be a cock-sucking sissy cuckold?
It doesn’t really matter. You are here. You have accepted what you have become - what you are. Make the most it. It’s better than thing it and pretending to be what you are not and can never be.
Tamera
- 24.11.2020
- 13
- 0
