A TV Fantasy free porn video

A TV FANTASY by Suzi (Johnson) Thomas CHAPTER ONE I can still remember the first time I felt the sensuous touch of panties on my body. I was about 8 years old, and my ass was sore; why that was I don't remember, but I do remember my mother's words: "Your underwear will just make you more sore; tonight you can wear a pair of my bloomers to bed. They are softer and won't hurt you." Oh, she was right on both counts - they were loose-fitting nylon panties, so much softer than my cotton pants, and they certainly didn't hurt - they felt so good next to my skin. As I lay in bed trying to sleep, I had strange feelings I couldn't identify, not unpleasant, just strange. The feel of the loose nylon all around my ass and cock, and the sweet friction each time I moved was so nice. I didn't even feel my sore butt anymore. Finally, I fell asleep. The next morning when I awoke, the strange feeling was still there, and so was something else - my first little hard-on. I was frightened, because my cock had never before felt this way. The feel of the nylon against my cock felt even better than it had the night before. I wriggled around in my bed, letting the delicious white nylon panties rub my cock more and more. Suddenly, a spasm gripped my whole young body - my first orgasm - even though at my age, nothing else happened other than a wonderful feeling. My cock returned to normal in a few minutes, and my mother came in to wake me up. She said, "Here change into your own underwear; you have to go to school. I hope my bloomers made you feel better." Oh, did they ever! That night, my mother asked me if my behind was still sore and I told her, "A little." My father overheard, and said not to turn me into a 'sissy', but fortunately my mother prevailed, and once again I pulled up her soft white panties around my body. The next morning, the same feelings and same result! As much as I would have liked to wear panties again that night, I knew that was not going to happen, and my mother didn't even ask. But that was not the end, just the beginning. The next few years seemed to be a continuous blur, as these new feelings gripped my young body. Even though I didn't know what orgasms were, I knew I liked them! I went to a Catholic grammar school and was mostly taught by nuns, but in the third grade, my teacher was Miss O'Hare, a beautiful red-head. I didn't know why she made me feel the way she did then, but I know now. She usually wore white nylon blouses that you couldn't quite see through, but you definitely knew there was some lacy stuff underneath. Her skirts were not tight, but when she bent over, I could see the lines of her panties. Knowing how they felt kept me in a constant state of horniness. Luckily, the uniform pants I wore hid my tiny hard-on, and even more luckily, the pockets were made with a smooth material that felt almost like my mom's panties against my cock. A few rubs of the pocket on my hard cock brought me to climax. But when I was about 10, I stopped this activity - why I don't know. CHAPTER TWO My mother was a domineering woman who gave my father and her children orders to be obeyed, not requests or suggestions. My father worked hard to support us and probably didn't have the energy to argue about her dominant ways. When my sister or I was bad, we got spanked with a leather belt of hers. This was usually the only time that either one of us got individual attention. It hurt, but was nice at the same time. My sister rarely got spanked, however; it was obvious that my mother much preferred her to her son. When I was about 12, these things started to finally register, and I found myself thinking about the lovely feel of those panties, and how mom loved her little girl. I knew I couldn't ask to wear her panties again, but when I was in the bathroom, I always looked to find panties in the laundry hamper. At first, I just rubbed them against my cock to get off, but then I started putting them on. All the old feelings resurfaced; my cock was bigger, but that just made the nylon feel better. Mom and Dad got divorced around this time - I guess he finally got fed up with her bitchy ways - so it was just my mom, sister and me. Mom's temper was getting shorter and shorter - it seemed like I was always in trouble. When I wasn't getting spanked, I was in the bathroom, wearing mom's panties. Finally to try to gain acceptance from mom, even though she was unaware of it, I began to try on other garments of hers. I would announce that I was going to take a bath, lock the door, and empty the hamper. Panties first - I loved how they felt - then a bra. I was thin, so I had nothing to fill up the bra with, but a couple of more pairs of panties, or socks if there were no more panties, did the trick. Then a girdle - everyone wore them back then - and stockings - there weren't any pantyhose yet. A full slip completed my costume. Each item I put on felt better and better: the straps of the bra and the elastic band around the back felt wonderful. The girdle held me in so tightly, and held the nylons firmly up around each leg. The full white slip made me feel as though I had panties surrounding my whole body. It felt like my body had become one giant cock smothered in nylon. By this time I was almost as big as mom, so all her clothes fit me just right! Only when she yelled that I should stop hogging the bathroom did I stop fantasizing about being a girl, and take my shower. Of course, I reached up under the slip and girdle, and inside the panties to jerk off first! I don't know how many months this went on, and although the thrill was still pretty much there, mom didn't have a great variety of different underwear, so neither did I. Except for when she went out to a wedding or some such affair. She had one set of black frilliest, with a lot more lace, although by today's Victoria's Secret standards, they were still pretty plain. I was old enough to baby-sit my younger sister by then, so I knew two things: when my sister went to bed, I could dress up and walk around the house, and the next day, I would be able to dress up in the black dainties! A lot of aunts and uncles were marrying then, and mom also went out occasionally, so the nights came around fairly often. Sometimes, I even put on powder, rouge and lipstick to feel more like a woman, but I knew if I ever got caught there'd be hell to pay, so those nights were more rushed. CHAPTER THREE One day when I was 12 or 13, the urge to feel other panties got overpoweringly strong. We lived in a Manhattan tenement house, and all the neighbor hung their wash on clotheslines on the roof. Summoning up all my courage, I went up there, day after day, to see the neighbor's wash - would one of the other women have their frilliest up there for me to see? And then the day arrived, when I went up there and there was a beautiful set of black underwear hanging on the line, among all the usual whites. Without thinking of the consequences, I quickly undid the clothespins on the items I wanted and ran back to the empty apartment, unseen. I shoved the underwear under my mattress as mom was due back any minute, and just made it before I heard her come in. Later, I overheard her talking with the neighbor, and their agreement that it must have been a 'pervert' who had done it. I kept those clothes for almost 6 months, before a narrow escape made me throw them away. There was a long line black bra with a little red rose between the cups, a very tight black girdle with four garters on it, black panties that were almost all lace, black stockings that fit perfectly and a black slinky slip with lace all over the top and the hem. I couldn't wear these on an everyday basis, because I couldn't carry them into and out of the bathroom without getting caught, but whenever I was alone at home, and knew I would have a long undisturbed time - on they went! And how wonderful they felt. They were much tighter than my mother's things - she was putting on a little weight and was buying larger sizes - and I first experienced something of tight lacing as my body was squeezed into 'my' outfit. It was at this time that I learned how to hook up the entire back of the long line bra. At first, I turned the bra around, hooked up the entire thing and then struggled to turn it around correctly. But my body was growing, making it ever more difficult to do this, and it just didn't seem right to get dressed incorrectly. It took weeks, but I finally managed to make my arms reach back to close each hook and eye correctly, all 10 of them. I loved the feel of being enclosed so tightly by all these sexy, delicious feeling clothes. By this time, my cock had grown to adult size, and my cock and balls were captured inside the tiny, lacy panties, and the almost strangling girdle. With the growth of my cock, the days of dry orgasms were over, and each time I wore these clothes, more and more cum stained my panties. Only when I nearly got caught by 'time to turn the mattress over' did I finally get rid of my cum-stained clothes. I also felt some guilt that I was a pervert, and I resolved not to wear women's clothes any more. As any transvestite can tell you, these feelings are not uncommon, nor is it uncommon to throw everything away, only to start all over again, when the feelings resurface. CHAPTER FOUR I wasn't really a bad kid, but it seemed like my mother got bitchier as time passed. She often said, "Why can't you be good, like your sister?" If only she knew how I dressed up and tried! One day, I was rough-housing around with my sister and broke a lamp. I knew I was in for it, because only I would get blamed. And worse still, I landed on my sister's arm and bruised it quite badly. My mother, instead of going into her usual rage, turned icy cold and dried my sister's tears. After she had been calmed down, my mother took her over to a neighbor's house to play with her friend and have dinner. She told me to strip (I was 13, and greatly embarrassed) and sit down on the kitchen chair until she returned to punish me. The most terrible visions went through my head and it seemed like hours till she got back. Finally, she opened the door, and saw me there naked. "You vile child," she yelled, "you have no idea what you put me through every day. Don't you know that girls are not rough animals like you? They are delicate and dainty! I'll show you that they are different from you!" Oh, God what did she mean? I still was getting the strap when I misbehaved, and I thought she was going to give me the all-time ass whipping. She was, but something else was going to happen first, something that would go beyond my wildest dreams of punishment. She had her leather belt out and gave me a couple of whacks on the ass to get me moving toward her bedroom. "I'll make you understand the difference between boys and girls, you little animal," she screamed. "Sit on the bed, and just do what I tell you to." Quickly, she went into her bottom bureau drawer, and took out some things. My heart went into my throat as I began to realize what was going to happen! "Put these on, right now," she said, throwing a pair of her panties at me, punctuating her words with a whack of the belt. Before I could even get excited by the feel of her panties, they were up around my waist, and my ass was whacked again. "Now this, you bastard," as a girdle came my way, hitting me in the face. I knew I better get that on right away, before she could see my now-raging hard-on. Stockings, which she fastened (believing I couldn't figure the garters out by myself!) to the girdle. Then, still whipping my sore ass, she unlocked her dresser, and took out a crinoline half slip, the kind I knew was worn under full skirts to give them body, but had never seen before. A long line bra followed and I felt terrific. Of course, I hid this as I kept yelping with each stoke of her belt. I had never been beaten so badly, and I loved every minute of it. Next, she took out a sundress that was tight through the bodice, flaring out to a full skirt and made me put it on. Finally, to complete my humiliation, she made me put on a pair of her high-heels. "Lift up your skirt, you creep, and your slip, too! I thought she would never stop beating my panty-clad ass, all the while yelling how good I had it as a boy, not like how hard it was for a woman in this world! Luckily, my back was to her so she couldn't see the bulge my cock was making, even through the tight girdle. "We have to wear all these things to look good for you pigs, and now you know how they feel, how tight they are, how uncomfortable they can be. You can just wear them all night, and do chores so you'll learn what women have to go through." She had really whipped my ass unmercifully through all this, and tears were running down my face, from a mixture of pain and joy. I couldn't believe this - my deepest, subconscious fantasy come true. I was completely dressed like a woman, in tight fitting silken garments, humiliated and beaten. "Now, you'll understand," she said as she took me into the bathroom, "we have to paint ourselves up to please you men, you'll understand it all now. Don't think you can do anything to stop me, because I'll call all your friends in to see you, if you don't obey me!" Powder, eye shadow, false eyelashes, rouge lipstick, fingernail polish - oh, how wonderful! "See what we have to go through, you animal? Now you'll learn to treat girls, especially your sister, right." Then she put my longish hair up in rollers, pulling each clump of hair tightly to torment me further. "Now, you beast, you're starting to learn. Stop your whimpering, you'll ruin your makeup!" She dragged me, stumbling back to the kitchen, and proceeded to start the whipping over from scratch. When her arms finally got tired, about an hour later, she took the rollers out of my hair. "Now go look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you sissy thing, and remember that I am the one in charge here." I half-ran, half-stumbled into the bathroom in my high-heels, which had always been inside a locked closet, and therefore, I had never worn before. When I got inside, I locked the door, looked into the mirror and saw - a beautiful girl! My eyes were a little red from tears, but I was stunned by how good I looked. I had dressed up before, and had even worn some make-up, but never had I been completely transformed into a beautiful young woman, with false eyelashes, and curly, if short, hair. I stared at the bright red lipstick and nail polish, at the smooth face powder and rouge, at the blue eye shadow. I was thrilled, unlike ever before, and the soreness of my ass mingled with my excitement. My cock called for release, and I quickly jerked off, being very careful to avoid getting cum on any of mom's frilliest! "You can just pee like that if you have to, and see how much we have to suffer," I heard her say to the closed door. By then I really did have to go, so I pulled down the girdle and panties, lifted up the crinoline and the skirt of the dress, gathering it all around me. The thought of how I looked came into my head and as soon as I finished peeing, I had another hard-on! A few minutes work took care of that, and I was ready to go out. "Well, well," my mother said sarcastically as she saw me, "don't you look pretty; maybe I should dress you this way all the time, so you'll behave better, like your sister does!" Little did she know how much I wanted that - to have my cock restrained by silken panties, to have my ass constricted by a tight girdle, to have my chest enclosed in the lovely web of a bra! The rest of that night flew by, as she kept me busy doing girl-things: washing dishes, doing laundry, scrubbing floors. And whenever I did something wrong, up went the skirt and petticoat, and across my ass whipped the belt. She commented on how often I had to go to the bathroom to 'pee'; little did she know it was to relieve my continuously aroused cock. At midnight, after 10 hours of this, she finally said, "OK, it's time for bed, my little daughter." She took me into the bathroom again, cleaned off all the make-up, and told me to take off the dress, shoes and petticoat. By that time, my cock had been wrung out, and, to tell the truth, my high-heels were killing me! Once more, she whipped me with her leather belt, as I stood in front of her as a panty-clad daughter, instead of her son. She had worked up quite a sweat, not from housework, but from the whippings she had administered. "I'm going to bathe now, you just wait there until I get out," she said. I couldn't resist peeking, however, as she went into the bathroom; the door had an old- fashioned keyhole that provided a clear look at the tub. I had never done this before, but dressed as I was, I almost felt like we were sisters. My nylon-clad feet made no noise as I walked up to the door and bent down. There she was, taking off her clothes - clothes that were just like the ones I was wearing. She took off her bra, and I wished that I had tits to fill out my bra, just like she did. She slipped off her panties, and I saw her bush for the first time. Her pussy was hidden behind her hair, but I could see and feel how different we were as my cock stood up inside my panties once again. I continued to watch her in the tub for a while, then realized I would have to jerk-off yet again, so she couldn't see how I really felt about my 'punishment'. I finished just in time, and stood in the kitchen in my panties, girdle, stockings and bra. "Take everything off, animal, it's time for your bath. Fortunately, my cock was limp, as I removed the rest of my feminine garb. She pulled me by my ear into the bathroom and said, "Get in the tub." The room smelled like perfume, and when I looked, I saw the tub filled to the top with bubbles. A real, female-scented bubble-bath. I loved it. "Don't stay in there too long; we girls never have much time to relax," was the sarcastic comment. The bubbles felt fantastic against my sore ass and cock; all too soon she yelled to get out and I did. "Now it's time for bed; your sister is staying overnight at her friends house. You'll sleep in her room. I hope that girdle hurt, you sissy; I hope you appreciate what it feels like to be a girl now. You don't have the same things real girls do so put this on. It was another bra, tighter than the one I had worn all day, almost like a corset. She stuffed it with panties and said that it would let me feel how uncomfortable it was to sleep with breasts. A new pair of panties, also tighter than before; I was thrilled. She threw a cotton nightgown at me and told me to put it on. Even the cotton felt sensual against my mostly bare skin. I had to keep the panties and bra on underneath, which, of course I didn't mind a bit! She took me into the bathroom again, scrubbed my face with a cleansing cream, and put on a facial mask that quickly hardened on my skin. "Even at night we have to do things to ourselves for you pig-men," she said. Once again, she whipped my ass, but she had forgotten to bring in her belt. This time she used the bra she had worn that day, and as the straps bit into my flesh, I became more excited than ever. She put my hair into rollers again, so I would be as uncomfortable as all women were. The thought of seeing my face in the morning, smooth from the facemask, surrounded by curls, almost made me come again. She led me into my sister's room and told me to lay face down on the bed. I did, and before I knew what was happening, first my arms, then my legs were tied to the corner posts of my sister's pink canopy bed! I had never felt so good in my life as I did restrained at each corner by a nylon stocking, with my cock and balls squeezed into the too-tight panties, feeling my fake titties underneath me. Whack! Whack! Another spanking; finally in a mixture of pleasure and pain she stopped, and I drifted off into sleep. The next morning, I awakened with still another hard-on, tied hand and foot, helpless until I was released. She came in, untied me and held me in her arms. "I'm sorry I had to do that to you, but you needed to learn a lesson." I had learned much, but not the lesson she was intending! For the first time I ever felt that my mother really loved me, and that I was accepted by her. That was the only time mom gave me petticoat punishment, but she still spanked me from time to time. I realized that I got excited from it, even though I wasn't in panties, because I know I thought back to that time. I wonder if she did, also? CHAPTER FIVE As the years passed, and I turned 18, I was really too big to wear my mother's clothes anymore. Her panties stretched at the top, and once I broke the elastic. I had to throw them away, and she always did wonder where they went. My sister was also growing up, however, and she was bigger than my mom. Some of her clothes fit me, but unfortunately she liked wearing pantyhose, so I could no longer see my panty-clad cock inside the frame of garters and stockings. I did become interested in girls, though, and suffered through the normal frustrations with them. One advantage I did have, however, was the fact that their underwear turned me on greatly, as I saw and felt new female garments whenever possible. The girls must have felt I was not as much of a danger as other guys, because I was always satisfied to rub my cock against their panty-covered pussies or between their bra-wrapped tits 'til I came! After college, I met the girl who would be my wife. We were nearly the same size, or at least close enough that I could wear her things without stretching them. She liked to wear sexy frilliest, and needless to say, so do I. Every once in a while, before we got married, I'd stay at her parents house, and be able to dress up in her and her mother's clothes. Back to the days of raiding the laundry hamper! Her mother is a pretty heavy woman, and wears firm control underwear. Once, I stayed over after a wedding when she had worn a formal gown. The girls were dead-tired, and her mother had undressed in the bathroom. She left everything thrown in there, even the gown. They went upstairs to bed, and I stretched out on the couch to sleep. In the middle of the night, I got up to pee, and saw the gown. Looking quickly in the hamper, I saw both my fianc?e's and future mother-in-law's underwear. I locked the door and began to transform myself. First, Sue's frilly black lace panties, which had three lace ruffles from side to side around the back. They felt terrific - unbelievable - on my swollen cock. Then, something I had only seen in a Sears catalog - her mother's one-piece undergarment, super control, black and very tight! It zipped up the front, and as I pulled the zipper up, I saw my flesh pushing up into the tittie-cups. I was heavier then than when I was growing up, so the excess weight filled up her bra cups as I squeezed the flesh into them. Oh, how that wonderful garment changed my shape. I could see my bulging titties, my drawn in waist and the gently sloping shape of my lower body spreading into woman-like hips. Quickly, I drew sheer black nylons over my legs and fastened the six garters. Perfect, they were even seamed, and I made sure the seams ran straight down the backs of my legs. Suddenly, I heard a knocking at the locked door. "Are you all right?" my fianc?e asked. I was wonderful squeezed into that most miraculous garment, but I told her I had an upset stomach. She asked if I needed anything - no just you back in bed I thought - but I said I would be OK in a little while. She said goodnight, and I continued. There was a half-slip, the first crinoline I had seen since the night of my petticoat punishment, which went on next. I twirled around girlishly, feeling the rough material brushing against the nylon panties and my captive cock beneath them. Finally, I put on her mother's gown. It was a dark blue floor-length dress, with ruffles and a bow to hide any bulges in the wrong places. But there were no bulges in the wrong places on me! My pulled in tit-flesh filled the padded cups, the tight bodice of the dress showed them off perfectly. My pulled in waist was down to the right size, and the slip and my flaring hips filled out the bottom of the gown beautifully. I looked better in the dress than she did, and my cock kept growing as I looked at myself in the mirror. After peeing in my gorgeous costume, I jerked off, slowly, putting my hand under the gown and slip, and inside my panties. A night to remember! My wife had remarked disgustedly that she hated transvestites when she had seen them on one of the talk shows, so except for once, I had never made love to her while wearing any women's clothing. That once came about as the result of an accident. I have been wearing men's bikini underwear, as they are the closest I can get to women's panties. They come in nylon, so they almost feel the same. But I still knew they are men's so they were not as exciting. One Saturday night, however, we were getting ready to watch a porno flick on the VCR, and I was in the shower. I had forgotten to bring in underwear, so I asked my wife to get me a pair. The lights were dim, because of our impending lovemaking, and apparently she had mixed a pair of her panties in with my bikinis. She grabbed them and handed them in to me to put on. Although these were far from her sexiest panties, they did have a little lace, and they immediately raised a hard-on that wouldn't quit. We got into bed, turned on the movie and started fooling around. My wife got really hot from the movie and was feeling me all over. Suddenly, she turned away and started crying. When I asked her what was the matter she said, "You know." I guessed I did but pretended innocence. "You are wearing my panties, does that turn you on or something?" As much as I would have liked to confess that it did, I knew how she felt and denied it. I reminded her that she had given the panties to me to wear, and I just hadn't noticed. (Not much!) Reluctantly, I took them off, and in a little while, she was back into it full speed. I had never calmed down, and that was the best night of lovemaking we had yet had. CHAPTER SIX After we had been married for a few years, we decided that our love life needed spicing up. (Had she but known what I did myself when she was not around!) We started getting into role-playing, with one of us suggesting a theme for a night's lovemaking. The first few times were fairly mild: she played a woman, who had been stood up in a bar, and I picked her up, I was a businessman having dinner alone, etc. Then I suggested that she play a whore, and although she was somewhat reluctantly willing to go along, she said that she didn't have the 'right' clothes to wear. I kidded her and said that if she wanted to play, I would buy her the outfit. She agreed, never believing that I would do so. Until that time, I hadn't purchased any feminine attire, other than an occasional nightgown I felt I could get away with buying at Christmas time. The thought of going into a store and buying women's underwear was just too embarrassing, as much as I would have loved it. A new lingerie shop had opened close to the office, and from the sexy stuff they displayed in the window; it was obvious that they catered to the fantasies of both sexes. One day when it looked like the store was crowded with both men and women, I decided to take the plunge: I would buy my wife the whore's outfit. I was like a kid in the candy store as I looked around at outfits I had only seen in porno magazines and movies. I still didn't have the courage to buy anything for myself, but I quickly decided on a red bustier with hanging garter tabs, red stockings and open crotch red panties, all in a medium size. If I were buying these for myself, I would have needed a large, so it wasn't overly embarrassing. After paying for these items, I was highly aroused, and couldn't wait for our game the next night. Sue donned the outfit nervously, still finding it difficult to believe that I had actually bought it for her myself. The bustier pushed up her tits and the garters held the stockings tightly around her luscious thighs. The thought of wearing these dainties obviously was a turn-on for her as well, and I could see the moisture on her cunt lips through the opening in the panties. Three-inch red high heels and a sexy red cocktail dress completed the outfit. She was stunning, sexy as hell in outside clothes I had seen before, but even more so since I knew what she wore beneath them. We really got into it, and before I knew it she was sitting on my face, being eaten out through the open crotch panties. The feel of her nylon-covered thighs around my head was thrilling, and the feel of the panties all over my face almost sent me over the edge. She swung her legs around and before I knew it, my cock was captured between her high-heeled feet. I reached up and pulled down the zipper of her dress, which she proceeded to remove. I looked up and saw her body enclosed in the red bustier, her pussy framed by the panties, garters and stockings and felt my cock being rubbed by her heels. After she came several times from my eager tongue, she slid down my body, driving me to new heights as her sexy underwear rubbed every inch of me. Finally, when she sensed I had really had enough teasing, she let her pussy lips engulf my cock, pumped up and down a few times and milked my juices into her. She kept whispering, "You're bad, you're bad," and she was right. But it felt so good! While we were relaxing later, I asked her what she meant when she said I was bad, and she told me that I was really bad for being with a whore, when I had a loving wife at home. She said that I deserved to be punished for what I had done. I agreed, realizing that our next role-play could lead to even better things. A couple of weeks later, I reminded her of her words, and she took a mock-serious tone saying that I needed to be punished for my actions. She said that next Saturday night would be the time for her to dish out what I deserved. I could hardly wait. The week dragged by, but I was so busy at work that I scarcely thought of her promise. By Saturday evening, it was all but forgotten - by me. Sue, on the other hand, had remembered quite well. After we had finished dinner, she leaned over and kissed me firmly, holding my head against her lips with both hands. Suddenly, she drew back one hand and slapped me hard on the cheek. "That's just for starters, you scum," she said. "Tonight, you are my slave and I'm in control!" To say the least, I was stunned - my wife had turned into someone I didn't recognize. There was a look in her eyes I had never seen before! She told me to strip, right there in the kitchen. I eagerly obeyed, anxious to see what would happen next. I stood naked before her, with my cock standing at attention. A quick slap on my rigid member startled me, and she left the room, warning me not to move. She quickly returned, carrying a pair of black silk bikini underwear. She threw them at me, saying, "I don't want to look at your miserable cock, you worm, put these on." They were fantastic - it was almost as though I were putting on a pair of panties as I pulled them up past my thighs and over my cock and balls. My cock was raging and I was ready to go at it then and there, but it was not to be. "Clean up this kitchen, you bastard, while I go take a bath." I was immediately reminded of the petticoat punishment my mother had once inflicted on me. I started to wash the dishes, clad only in the silken underwear. About a half hour later, I heard her call me into the bathroom, "Come in here, slave, I wish you to serve me." "Dry me off," she commanded. I reached down for a towel, and was rewarded with another stinging slap, this time on my silk covered ass. "Not with that, with your tongue, pig." I proceeded to lick off every drop of moisture from her body. Any lick that she thought I was enjoying brought another slap. I don't know how long it took, but she finally grabbed my cock and led me to our bedroom and the next shocking discovery. Laid out on the bed was her outfit for the night - all black and sexy. "Dress me," she commanded. First, there was a lace-up corset with cutout bra cups. She pushed me down on my knees, and I had to reach up over my head to lace her tightly into the corset. She continued to slap me as I worked to cover her beautiful body with the even more beautiful garment. She made me take the open crotch black panties in my mouth and put them on her without using my hands, all the while telling me how useless I was as a slave. She insisted that every wrinkle of the panties be removed, and using my teeth and tongue, I smoothed them on to her. She sat down and commanded, "Now the stockings." I knelt before her and rolled the sheer black hose over her calves and thighs. I had the presence of mind to fumble with the garters, pretending that I had no expertise in fastening them. Of course, each fumble was duly rewarded with another blow to my body. Finally, she told me to get her shoes from her closet, and when I opened the door, I saw the tallest pair of high heels I had ever seen - at least five inches - of shiny patent leather. I hesitated, and she said, "Like them? I bought them especially for tonight, when you are going to get what you deserve!" Before she let me put them on her, I had to lay on the floor in front of her while she used my face and head for a footstool, running her nyloned feet over my skin. At last, she ordered me to put her heels on her, without raising my eyes from the floor. Then she commanded me to lick her shoes and worship her. I did, eagerly. She tied a stocking around my neck and told me to walk like the dog I was on all fours into the kitchen so she could inspect my clean up efforts. They proved to be inadequate, of course, and I had to redo everything, clad only in my silken pants, with continual tugs on my neck stocking and slaps on my exposed ass cheeks. When the cleaning was done to her satisfaction, she pulled me down to my knees and commanded me to lick her pussy. She towered over me in her five-inch heels, and her nylon-covered thighs were twin columns on either side of my face. She drew my neck stocking between her pussy lips and up her ass crack, pulling my face closer to her cunt. I felt her panties against me as I tongued her dripping pussy and her love button. "Lick deeper, that's the only thing you have that can service a real woman!" I loved every inch of her as she continuously orgasmed over my face. When she was sated for the moment, she led me on all fours into the living room, tied my ankles together with another stocking and turned on a porno movie. I was forced to lie on the floor facing her, and she used me again as a helpless footstool. This time, however, I could feel the high heels digging into my back, sending waves of ecstasy through me. She watched the whole movie, something we had never had the restraint to do before. Several times she made me make her drinks, hobbled by the delicious stocking around my ankles. I, of course had nothing to drink. Three or four times during the movie she pulled me up to a kneeling position and forced me to eat her, commenting on how inadequate the wimpy men in the movie were, and how a real woman would train them properly. By this time, my cock was aching worse than it ever had for release, but she warned me that if I knew what was good for me, I'd better save my puny orgasm for her command. She stripped off my silken bikinis, leaving me totally naked. After the movie was over, she had me turn over on the floor, facing up. She tied another nylon stocking around my cock and balls, and she stood over me with one high-heeled foot resting lightly on my groin. "Who is the mistress, slave?" she asked. When I didn't answer quickly enough, she ground the shiny patent leather shoe more firmly into my cock and she tugged hard on my cock and neck stockings. "You are, mistress, you are," I gasped. She led me into the bathroom and tied a pair of panties around my eyes as a blindfold. She lathered up my face and proceeded to shave me again, saying, "I could feel your ugly stubble against my cunt, you shit." I knew that wasn't true, because I had shaved before dinner and never had a very heavy beard to begin with. My face was now raw from the rough shave and the next thing I felt was the burning sting of the aftershave she slapped onto me. "Now you'll learn that I am truly the mistress here," she said, and I felt the sensation of something being applied all over my crotch. I realized that it was shaving cream and I knew the next target for the razor. "Don't move, you shit, or this miserable little worm of a dick will be on the floor." Needless to say, I kept very still as she pulled my still raging cock from side to side and away from the razor. I thought that it was finally over as she removed every bit of hair from my groin and balls, but then came the unbearable agony, the wonderful pleasure/pain as she massaged aftershave lotion all over my exposed cock and balls. The red-hot fire that burned over me almost brought me to tears; I thought that the lotion had burned on my twice-shaved face, but that was nothing compared with this! After this torture, she led me still blindfolded with her panties into the bedroom. I hobbled and stumbled from my bound ankles, and she pulled and tugged on my cock and neck stockings as we went up the stairs. She shoved me down on the bed and told me to get ready to service my mistress. I was ready to quit the game at this point, and to take care of my erect cock. I tried to force her to service me, but she said, "Still a bit of fight left in you, I see." Before I could do anything, she grabbed one of my hands and using a bra, she tied me to a bedpost. The other hand quickly followed, and she then leisurely used two more bras to fasten my ankles firmly to the bottom of the bed. I was totally helpless, spread-eagled on the bed, which had been covered with silk sheets. My blindfold was rearranged so that her panties covered my head, with my eyes and mouth exposed through the leg holes. My cock and balls had the sensuous feeling of the nylon tied around them and my hands and feet were bound with her lacy bras. I knew she would never allow me to act out my transvestite fantasies with her, but the feel of all her frilly under garments restraining me was the next best thing. Meanwhile, her black sexy mistress outfit continued to inflame me, as I imagined how those very things would look on me! She sat directly on my panty-covered face and forced me to eat her yet again. I don't know how many times she came that night, but I do know it was more than ever before. It was obvious that she was really into this role! She whipped me all over my body with a bra, and I could feel the sting of the straps and under cup wires biting into my flesh. When she had finally had enough of my tongue service, she said that she was leaving for a while and not to move. As though there was a chance of that, secured as I was. I waited for her to return. I heard the clicking of her heels in the hall as she approached the bedroom, and felt one of my hands being untied and retied to the opposite bedpost. The same thing happened to one ankle, and she quickly refastened the other hand and ankle to the opposite side, leaving me still spread- eagled, but this time face down on the bed. "You think it's so wonderful, playing with your whore last time? Sticking your vile cock into her sacred woman hole?" She beat me with the red bustier I had bought her, the hanging garters cutting into my tender ass flesh and thighs. I realized that she had downed a couple of additional drinks when she had left me, and was pretty high by now. I began to be frightened, as I was totally helpless tied to the bed with my ass exposed to her whipping. I felt that I could take it though, since it was not really dangerous. Suddenly, I felt her slide a pillow underneath the middle of my body. My ass was sticking up exposed and naked to her whim. I felt her insert a lubricated finger into my virgin asshole, saying, "Do you think that feels good, you shit, something tearing into your body hole?" Actually, once I had gotten over the initial shock, it did feel OK, as my hole loosened up around her finger, which she fucked in and out, first slowly, and then more rapidly. I don't think she expected my reaction, which was a sensuous squirming around on her invading finger. She seemed to get angrier with that, and said she would teach me a lesson. A second finger joined the first and I felt myself stretching to accommodate her penetration. I squirmed more rapidly, and she reached underneath me, squeezing my balls hard to prevent the orgasm she sensed I was ready to have. "Still think it's so wonderful, having your tender hole split open?" she yelled, but to tell the truth, I did. Even during my most erotic transvestite episodes, when I was completely dressed and made up as a beautiful woman, thinking how wonderful it would be to actually be a woman, dressed in ruffles and lace, did I ever fuck myself in the ass. I was genuinely frightened now, because I realized that Sue was drunk, and I was totally helpless. She withdrew her fingers, and just when I thought it was over, I felt something even larger against my hole. I made a sound of protest that caused Sue to stuff a pair of dirty panties in my mouth as a gag. I could smell her pungent aroma and taste her pussy juice in my mouth. Now I was completely at her mercy, face down, with lacy panties gagging me, a nylon tied around my cock, fastened hand and foot with her bras to the bedposts and blinded with my panty- covered head. I felt the foreign object against my sore hole and at once I knew what it was: a large vibrator I had bought to tease and delight her with during one of our earlier scenes. The thought terrified me, as excited as I was by the feel of all her lingerie tying me down. I knew the vibrator was ten inches long and about two inches around - this monster couldn't fit up my butt. She spread my ass cheeks and reinserted her fingers, by this time I didn't know how many. She pumped in and out for a while, stretching me farther and farther. Her fingers came out, and I felt my ass being stretched as the lubricated monster entered me. "Relax and enjoy it, isn't that what they say," Sue cooed in my ear. It hurt, and for the first time I understood what it was like for a woman to be penetrated by a rock-hard cock. She pushed it into me, and probably got half of it in as my sphincter relaxed. Another hard squeeze on my balls halted the climax I felt coming, and I felt her move to insert the other side of the vibrator into her pussy, fucking both her and me. She turned on the vibrator and waves of pleasure gripped us both. I could feel her clothes all over my back, her stockings rubbing the insides of my spread legs and her high heels scraping against my thighs. When she had come yet again, she turned off the vibrator and untied my hands and ankles from the bedposts. With the vibrator still sticking out of my ass, she pushed it still deeper into me and commanded me, "Come now, you wimp, jerk yourself off, let me see your pitiful come." By this time, I had been aroused for hours, and had her bras dangling from each wrist. I moved them against my cock and balls as I pumped furiously on my cock. I had never been so excited, as my cum spurted all over my hands. Then came the final humiliation: "Lick up every drop, scumbag, the way you want me to when I blow you. Here's a drop that landed on my shoe, lick it off!" I licked my own cum from my hands, her shoes and from the silk sheets. The next morning, Sue apologized for getting drunk, saying she didn't remember much after the movie. No apologies necessary I said, as I thought to myself 'It had been the best night of my life!' CHAPTER SEVEN As our careers progressed, we were often called out of town on business. For me these usually were one-day trips, but Sue was sometimes gone for three or four days, even over an occasional weekend. When she was away, I was tormented by my transvestite fantasies. She was very particular about her clothes, and besides being heavier now, and not being able to fit her things well, I was always concerned that I would rip or stretch something beyond repair. As I had mentioned, buying women's clothing in a regular store was just too embarrassing to contemplate. The clerks in the lingerie shop I had used for our role-playing purchases knew that I bought a medium size, so I could not go there for the large or extra-large women's sizes that would fit me properly. Catalog shopping was out of the question, since I didn't know whether their delivery schedules would get my purchases into my hands or Sue's. There seemed to be no easy solution, until I happened on a mention in a transvestite magazine for a TV boutique, located on Tenth Avenue in Manhattan. Could it be that there were enough transvestites like me to support a shop of our own? When Sue announced that she was going on an extended trip the following week, I went into an internal frenzy. I began to plan a trip of my own, to Tenth Avenue. I didn't know what to expect as I waited for lunch hour the next day. I hopped right into a cab at noon, and cross-town traffic was mercifully light, not prolonging my anxiety. I located the address and walked up the flight of stairs into a whole new world. There were only a couple of people who worked there in the shop, dressed in unisex clothing that definitely leaned toward the feminine side. What really caught my eye, however, were the displays of the most feminine attire all over the walls, on racks, everywhere. One of them walked over to me and introduced himself as Lee. He said he was the owner of the boutique, and asked if I needed any help. Even though I stammered a quick, "No, thanks," he pointed out where various things were located, including a whole anteroom of shoes and wigs. Everything I could have hoped for was there: all the most frilly undergarments, dresses, makeup. . . everything! I felt free for the first time in my life to pick up and hold all the things I had always dreamed of owning, but never really thought I would have. I wandered all over the display floor, touching the sheerest, the most confining, the most wonderful items. I'm sure that I wasn't the first or the last person to have this exact reaction to the wares in the shop. Finally, realizing that I had been looking for over an hour, I selected everything I needed for a weekend's delight. I paid for my purchases, which were put into a very non-descript looking, bag and returned to the office. Sue was due to leave for a weekend conference on Friday evening, the day after tomorrow, and it was exquisite torment waiting for the hours to pass until I would be free to transform myself into my feminine side. The car came to take her to the airport, and she had to rush because we had made sweet love before she left. It was really nice, and took a little of the sexual urgency away from what was to come. I teased myself by making a drink before delving into the bag of goodies. I slowly removed each of my purchases from the bag and laid them on the bed: Two pair of black panties, one crotchless, one regular with plenty of lacy ruffles. A pair of extra-sheer red panties with lace inserts on the sides. An old fashioned black girdle with garters, open at the bottom, unlike modern panty girdles. An extra padded black long line bra, and a regular pushup bra. An ultra-sexy lace-up black bustier with six long hanging garter straps. A red all-in-one foundation that promised 'total control.' A stiff black waist cincher four inches smaller than my waist. Three pair of super sheer seamed black nylons, and two pair of nude colored hose. Two sheer peignoir sets, one white, and one my favorite black. A black maid's costume, complete with frilly white apron, neck and wrist bands. A plain blue daytime dress with a tight bodice, flaring slightly at the waist. A red satin evening gown, cut low at the neckline. Black patent leather high-heeled pumps and red open-toed evening pumps. A shoulder length blond wig. And an assortment of makeup and other goodies to allow for a complete transformation into my other side. CHAPTER EIGHT In spite of our recent lovemaking, I felt my cock beginning to stir as I looked over the wonderful assortment of dainties, basically the first complete set of attire I had possessed since my clothesline burglary, so many years before. I willed it to calm down, as I sat to begin the makeover. I decided that before trying on some of the sexier items I would first act like a real woman would in preparing to go out for a night on the town. I pulled on the regular pair of panties, and as I stood to slip them over my hips, I realized that I had been holding my breath. Exhaling, I raised them to the proper position, enclosing my cock in their silken delight. I looked behind myself and saw my ass cheeks expanding out the lace ruffles fully. I slipped my arms through the straps of the pushup bra, and reached around behind me to fasten the two hook and eyes. I adjusted my tit flesh properly so that I looked like I had very satisfactory cleavage. To add realism to the next step, I placed the blond wig on my head; how terrific the hair felt as it brushed against the tops of my bare shoulders. I had showered and shaved before Sue had left, so my smooth face was ready to be made up. A liquid foundation was the first step - the shade was perfect. It did not look at all artificial, but rather blended into my natural skin color, preventing the slightest show-through of beard. A light dusting of powder eliminated any shininess, giving me the perfect matte finish. Just a slight touch of eye shadow was needed for the look I wanted tonight, a dark eyebrow pencil to emphasize my usually light brows, and a touch of mascara. Just a light application of blush to give me a little hollow cheeked look and a bit of color. Next, a medium red lipstick to give color, shape and definition to my pale lips. I had let my nails grow beyond their normal length, anticipating the next step. Onto each finger I glued on a false nail tip that would remain on all weekend. Never before had I gone so far! Red nail polish, matched to my lipstick color, completed this stage of the preparation. I had tried to put each of these on without looking at the whole picture, concentrating on the individual parts, so that the first time I stepped back to look at the results, I saw - my mother! For the first time in my life I had been able to give my makeup the attention it deserved, and taking my time had paid off. I had always been told that I looked like mom, but had never really noticed more than a passing resemblance, until now. Memories flooded back - mom getting ready for a party and how beautiful I thought she was - my night of petticoat punishment which fully indoctrinated me into the world of cross-dressing. My cock became hard beneath my girdle and panties. I could not resist stroking it until I came, all the while staring at myself in the mirror. I was careful not to stain my clothes with cum, however, so as not to spoil the illusion. I stepped back to the bed to change my clothes from the every day outfit I wore. I stripped quickly, and stood in front of the full-length mirror in just my makeup and wig. How strange - and thrilling - it was to see a fully made-up blond woman there, with a cock and balls! I certainly couldn't recognize myself. I had decided that tomorrow was to be party night, so I decided on the blue daytime dress. To look my best under its tight bodice, I slipped my arms through the straps of the long line black bra, and reached around to fasten the hooks. It was tighter than I had thought it would be, pushing up my flesh as I hooked it from bottom to top. It pulled in my waist a little, but the waist cincher really did the trick, compressing me down another four full inches, with wonderful swelling flesh above and below. Next came the black girdle to hold in my stomach and compress my ass cheeks, then I sat down again to put on my nylons. I took my time here to make sure that the seams were perfectly straight and there were no wrinkles any where along the length of the stockings. The girdle was also tighter than I had imagined, since it was unworn, something I had never before experienced. The feeling all these clothes gave me was the usual one of sensuousness from the nylon and lace, but different because of the restricting, confining spandex that shaped me in a totally feminine way. I stepped into the four-inch high heels, and then pulled the blue dress over my head. Fastening the side zipper was no problem, as I now had a shape that was ideal for the cut of the dress. I looked once again in the mirror, twirling my skirt back and forth over my imprisoned cock, loving every minute of it. Perfect, I thought, just the way I always wanted to look. Feminine, but not tarty, just a wholesome girl next-door look. My cock cried for attention as I looked at myself. I reached my red-nailed fingers under my dress as I continued to stare at the beautiful girl in the mirror. Inside my panties, pulling out the incongruous cock so that it stood rigid below the bottom of my girdle. I slowly stoked myself to climax. The rest of the evening passed by watching television, every once in a while repairing to the makeup mirror to see if I needed a little freshening up. When I finally tired, I undressed, bringing myself to another orgasm by slowly brushing each article of clothing against my cock. I removed my makeup, showered, donned the white peignoir outfit and slept a dreamless sleep. CHAPTER NINE Next morning, I shaved quickly to remove any stubble that might mar this special day, for this would be my first day ever spent totally as a woman. I smoothed moisturizing lotion all over my face and neck, and hand cream onto my still red-tipped nails. I wore my white peignoir with a pair of my wife's high-heeled mules. I saw that I still had a way to go, as most of my purchases were geared toward the glamorous, rather than the more practical considerations of bare feet on a cold tile floor. It was our usual practice to let the house go during the week and spend a good part of Saturday doing chores. I had made sure, however, that all the outside work and shopping was done in advance, as I planned not to set foot outside the door until Monday. I also had a treat planned for Sue: she would not believe how spotless the house would be when she returned Monday. After all, I was planning to have a maid in for the day - a real French maid! I planned my makeup for the day: more whorish than the previous night. Foundation and powder first to set the stage. I had looked through some of Sue's magazines to determine the proper method for using eye shadow. I applied three different shades of blue, each slightly darker than the previous one, blending one into the next for a smoothly darkening look as the shadow rose from the eyelid upward. One disadvantage to my relative hairless body is the lack of substantial eyelashes. Full, thick, long false eyelashes were firmly glued into place. A heavier blush effect on the cheeks, then a bright red lipstick to make them really stand out from the rest of my face. I removed the medium red polish from my nails and replaced it with a matching bright red. As I waited for the polish to dry on my now-long tapered nails, I thought of what the rest of the day would bring. When my nails dried, I selected my outfit for the day and began to dress. The crotchless panties were essential for today, what else would a French maid wear? Likewise the sexy black bustier. I attached the six garters to a fresh pair of black, seamed nylons that I had drawn slowly over my legs, savoring the sensuous feel of the slick fabric against my skin. The bustier shaped me nicely, but I decided that the waist cincher was needed also to complete the job. My chest flesh was pulled together by the half cups of the bustier, which were padded on the bottom to push up and accentuate the tops of my breasts. A look in the mirror satisfied me with how my body had been redefined, but my now rigid cock pointed directly at me. I had decided that there would be no orgasm until all the chores were done, but if I let my cock rub against these clothes all day, that plan was doomed. As I slipped the maid's dress over my head, I gave some thought to that problem. The dress barely covered the cheeks of my ass, exposing the gartered tops of my stockings. I tied the lacy white apron around my waist, and put on the neck and wristbands, also of white stretchy lace material. I placed a frilly little cap on my blond tresses. My four-inch high heel black patent leather pumps slipped smoothly over my nylon covered feet completing the outfit. I looked in the mirror once more, and saw that except for the cock and balls that protruded from below the hem of the white- lace fringed miniskirt, I had truly been transformed into a super sexy French maid. An idea had come to me about how to solve that problem. I walked into the spare bedroom which had been converted into a combination sewing room/den and looked through Sue's basket of sewing materials, and found what I needed: a spool of one inch wide black elastic. I cut off a four-foot length of elastic, and tied a tight loop in the middle around the base of my engorged cock. That would prevent any orgasms, I thought. Next, I created a harness that held in my hanging scrotum, and passed the ends of the elastic between my nylon-covered thighs, pulling my balls back out of sight against my ass. Wrapping the ends around my pulled in waist, I formed another loop inside my panties and around my cock, just below the purple head, and tied the ends into a little bow. The effect was startling - my cock was pulled tightly against my stomach, out of sight, and my balls were nowhere to be seen. All that appeared through the open crotch of the panties was some bush hair, just like a woman's! The final step in my preparation was something that I had been anticipating for quite a while - ever since the night Sue and I had played mistress and slave. I took out the ten- inch vibrator, put some lubricant on the tip and lay down on the bed. Slowly, I inserted the tip of the monster into my tight asshole. Nothing had stretched it since that night, and I found that I had to rotate it while pushing it ever deeper inside myself. When Sue had done this, only half had gone up inside me, but I was determined to swallow the whole thing. It took almost 20 minutes for my almost virgin ass to accommodate the penetration, and I writhed on the bed in a mixture of pleasure and pain as the love tool moved back and forth into me, driving deeper and deeper inside with every thrust. Then the final inch disappeared within. My ass cheeks closed together, and nothing could be seen from outside. But I could feel my insides gripping the whole length of it. I rose slowly to my feet, and the strange, wonderful sensation seemed to engulf my whole body. I spent only a few minutes admiring myself in the mirror, even though the sight was worth hours. There before me stood the sexiest French maid ever. From the little lacy cap perched on my head, down past the low cut top of the dress that exposed the pushed up tops of my breasts, to my severely nipped-in waist and flaring hips, to the lacy white skirt hem, contrasting with the shiny black material of the skirt itself, to the tops of my thighs with the garter bound silken stocking tops, down finally to the high heels which gave my legs an ultra feminine look - every inch perfection. But there was work to be done! The rest of the day was devoted to the household chores appropriate to a real maid. Washing dishes and floors, doing laundry, dusting, scrubbing - the house had never looked as clean, as I enthusiastically got fully into my role. The tight garments that shaped my body made some of the tasks nearly impossible, but I was determined to finish them all. By the end of the day, I could even bend from the waist all the way down to the floor to pick something up - a task which was more difficult than it sounds since I was perched atop those towering high heels! At about two o'clock, I felt pressure inside me to relieve myself - my tied up cock and vibrator filled ass prevented me from using the bathroom. I pretended that my 'mistress' had told me that I could not do so until after all the chores had been done. The pressures mounted all afternoon as I bent and stretched to clean house. My head also told me that I needed another kind of release - orgasm - but surprisingly my cock was of almost normal proportions. The tight elastic loop had done its job, and being a woman had become natural more than urgently erotic. As I passed from room to room, I caught glimpses of my transformed self-reflected from mirrors and shiny objects throughout the house. The sexy image I saw walking had a most feminine walk as the high heeled pumps gave a rolling sway to my hips, swirling the short flared maid's from side to side above my white thighs and stocking tops. This truly was the culmination of years of dreams. It seemed at times that I had left my male self somewhere else in time and space, looking at this beautiful young woman in the sexy outfit, with her pseudo-cunt filled with a ten-inch false cock. From time to time as each chore was completed, I treated myself by pushing the button that turned on the vibrator. My whole body tingled as the massive invader throbbed within me. This would raise me to a level of sexual excitement for a while, but I then returned to the mundane duties my "mistress" had commanded be done. At five o'clock the chores were all completed, and with my insides aching for relief, I slipped off the cock loop and removed the butt plug, gathered up my skirt around me and answered nature's most urgent call. I went back into the bedroom and lay on the bed. My mind, and my now rock hard cock also begged for relief. I reinserted the vibrator into my well-stretched ass, pumping it in and out for pleasure rather than necessity this time. Memories of my night of domination by Sue flooded over me and the same tingling feeling of being fucked by the pulsating vibrator, just like woman with a throbbing cock inside her, was heightened as I rubbed my cock/clit between my upraised thighs. I prolonged this as long as possible, watching my cock/clit as it pointed toward my face, growing more and more excited. When I could feel myself reaching climax, I surrounded my cock with my red-tipped fingers, administered the final strokes, and directed the spurting streams of cum toward my ruby-red lips. I tasted the salty jism, mixed with the flavor of my lipstick, and hungered for more. As each stream reached my eager mouth, I licked and swallowed each delicious drop. Taking off my high heels, I stretched out on the bed and thought about the day's activities. I looked down at the swelling mounds of my breasts, past the hem of my skirt and my nylon-covered legs, to my stockinged feet. My now empty cunt hole still throbbed from its recent penetration as I fell into sleep, exhausted from what had gone before. CHAPTER TEN I awoke feeling slightly sore from the physical labor I had performed, and cramped from sleeping in the tight clothing I wore. I decided that a nice bubble bath would do the trick. The scented bubbles filled the air with an elegant fragrance as the hot water rose