Jemima's Tale - Part 5 free porn video

Subject: 'Jemima's Tale Part 5'{Jemimaheart}(MM tv spank anal con)[1!1] Jemima's Tale Part 5 - A true story by [email protected] +++++Part 1 - Jemima Needs a New Man Oh I really really REALLY missed having a boyfriend! All you girls out there know what I mean - nothing is ever quite the same once you've experienced what it's like to belong, sexually, to another man. Before Steve accidentally walked into my life, I'd spend endless hours fantasising about having a boyfriend of my very own, someone I could have a proper crush on and who would enjoy giving me full rein to dress up in sensual, erotic, clothes for his delight - and my own pleasure... Above all, I dreamed of having a man who would let me surrender to my need to play a traditionally feminine role in serving a full-blooded male lover. When at last my dreams turned into incredible reality, and I actually met a man who seemed to want the same things, I seized the opportunity with both hands, using our love-making to explore the boundaries where my fantasies and my sexuality met, and in the process finding myself opening up, revealing aspects of myself that I could have never known existed. Through my relationship with Steve I found out that, to totally be myself, I really did need to be with a man. Having someone to dress up for - and subsequently undress for - did seem to be necessary to make my life complete. At the age of 29 I was comfortable with the fact that some integral part of me needed to express itself as Jemima, and that part wanted a lover to daydream about, to tease and tantalise, to offer me the demands of their passion in endless, mutually desired, lust- filled sessions of sex... For Jemima there was nothing, absolutely nothing in the world that compared with the reality of lying there, curled up against your satisfied boyfriend, with your bum all sticky and tingling from a bout of his strong, eager, lovemaking. What could ever equal the mind-blowing thrill of lying spread and open beneath the man you love, giving yourself up to him, the urgent stiffness inside you linking your two bodies together even as he takes your head in his hands to kiss you, long and hard, while you feel his climax bursting into you, throbbing and squirting his seed deep into the very core of your being... Finding myself once again without anyone to let me express these deep, innermost, desires hit me hard. Really hard. Over the months, I tried to fill the gap in my life by buying more stuff. More lingerie and shoes, more porn and toys, in fact anything to distract me from the faint nagging ache of remembering. I dressed for myself, inventing stories that had me tying myself up, or spanking myself or fucking myself - all of which provided some short-term relief but seemed flat and totally inadequate compared to the illicit, heart- stopping, excitement of being in the arms of another real live human being. Although I couldn't have known it, through those frustrating, despairing times, there WAS a new relationship waiting in the wings. In a way I could never have predicted, it would take a leap in the dark, letting the aspect of me that was Jemima be opened up to new, more intense, experiences of sexual exploration and growth, before I would once more be allowed to feel the caresses of a loving male partner. +++++Part 2 - Naughty Show-Off Jemima Eventually, I started going on the internet (as one does) and seeing if there were any decent men out there who might possibly be interested in me. There seemed to be plenty of submissive girls but not that many potential suitors, apart from professionals. I didn't want to be dominated by stern women or sadistic 'tops', I wanted to be a proper girlfriend to some nice, intelligent guy who would fancy the pants off me (...often...). When it came down to it, it was nothing ventured, nothing gained, so I decided to take a chance and reveal myself in public, in a limited, controlled, manner. After much agonising I reckoned that my very favourite French Maid outfit, actually purchased on the web, would best fit the image I wanted to portray - light and frothy, sexy and girly, without being immediately explicit or over-heavy... The main item of the costume was a halter-neck apron consisting of a black satin heart-shaped piece, just wide enough to cover both my nipples, attached to the high waistband of a perky little backless black skirt, with a cute pocket made from a matching lace-edged heart, and tying at the back with a big satin black ribbon. All the edges of the garment were trimmed with flounces and flounces of soft white lace. Full, frill-backed black panties, white lace cuffs and a cute little lace cap completed the uniform. I decided to team these with a pair of sheer black thigh-length stay-ups, with stocking-tops of black lace decorated with white heart motifs, and my faithful white leather strappy stilettoes. I had such fun taking the photos! The idea that I was going to let total strangers see them excited me greatly! I took a frontal shot, with me holding the little skirt in a curtsy, then a shot from the rear, looking cutely back over my shoulder, cutely showing off the gorgeous frilled panties. Finally I took a naughty side shot, with me bending slightly forwards, panties down around my knees, stiff prick poking up from under the short apron skirt. My right hand stretched out behind me holding the feather duster temptingly suspended above my bare bum. I was quite proud of the way the last one turned out: surely there was at least one decent, red-blooded male out there who fancied the idea of making me feel his lovely hard prick pressing between those soft white cheeks? Someone who'd like to woo me, talk to me, share his thoughts and passions with me before bending me over and plunging himself inside the warm, welcoming place that lay secretly waiting for him? To be even more obvious, I made the caption on this one read "Naughty Jemima requires a real man to give her a good, regular, seeing-to!" I posted the photo set on a couple of the more upmarket tranny sites and carefully invited correspondence... +++++Part 3 - Is There Anybody Out There? The response was disappointing, to say the least. Virtually all the replies consisted of banal - verging on sub-human - offers and comments, the spelling and grammar of which were calculated to send any English teacher into the depths of despair. Although some were obviously well- meaning and genuine, it was clear to me that all the more astute TV- fancying hunks were staying well away from the internet! It seemed Jemima was condemned to a life of, literally, pleasing herself. Then, a couple of months after I'd given up all hope, I received a reply that interested me. His name was Glenn and he seemed very genuine. An American guy living in the UK, he managed maintenance services (you really couldn't make this stuff up...) for a photocopier plc based in Reading. He appeared intelligent, self-aware, very clear on what he liked and didn't like and consequently what he was looking for. He was heavily into both transvestites and bondage and, I got the impression, had had quite a lot of experience with both. Divorced "ages ago", he seemed like a nice person, sensitive, but with a strong will and well-able to distinguish between role-play fantasies of sexual power over a submissive partner and the world of real life. Aged 47, he was eighteen years older than I at the time, and this made me unsure at first - after all he was old enough to be my dad, for God's sake! - but deep down I was rather attracted by the idea that such an older, more experienced man, could be interested in me. His outlook was more 'bondage-scene' than I expected to get on with (...although I had no experience, all those straps and rings didn't do that much for me...), but I found myself enjoying and playing-up-to his world... and I just couldn't help speculating what it would be like to endure a little of his discipline, ending up, naturally, with him making wild, passionate love to me... ...so when he sent an email describing a fantasy scenario about having to chastise his young, prick-teasing girlfriend and how it ended up with him tying her up and having his way with her, I simply just couldn't resist... His e-mails made me really excited and, a good sign I thought, he could make me laugh too. His photos looked very nice, short dark hair, greying at temples, hazel eyes, clean-shaven, strong jawline, even a little dimple in his right cheek. Six foot one, 178 lbs, fit and active lifestyle, and best of all: eight inch cock (...an inch bigger than Steve's and TWO whole inches bigger than mine! - it made my stomach flip every time I thought of it..) I replied detailing some of my fantasies and told him how I had been lucky enough to turn some of them into reality. I encouraged him to elaborate on the bondage and spanking scenarios he enjoyed (...naked on all fours your leash tugs me back onto you, the studs of your cock-ring rub against my arse...) so he wrote more about his exploits, both real and imagined, and - sweetly apologising in case it gave offense - included a marvellous scenario with me as his naughty girlfriend. He wrote about tying me face-down over his office chair, wrists securely bound to knees, and giving me a well-deserved spanking with his leather belt before spinning the chair round and taking my "tied and helpless ass" from behind. Needless to say I was absolutely bowled over, masturbating feverishly as I constantly read and re-read what he would like to do to me... Did I dare take the steps to make it real? He was amusingly fascinated by my relative youth and inexperience, translating it into his writing with me basically as an naive girly craving 'a bit of rough', desperate to submit herself to some down-to- earth all-American sex and discipline. I didn't discourage this particular line of thought one bit, in fact, in return, I sent him some more photos - much naughtier ones! - one picture looking down on me from above, kneeling, my little maids cap perched cutely on my uptilted head, looking straight up into the camera: - the next with my glossy red lips parted around the large glans of my flesh-coloured dildo - just as if I were taking the photographers own prick into my mouth; - one with me licking my way down the realistically-veined shaft, - another full face shot, with my long black eyelashes lowered, I concentrate on properly sucking the thick seven- inch phallus, my daintily rouged cheek bulging in an effort to encompass its length... - another set, shot from behind, with me now positioned on hands and knees on the bed, ruffled panties pulled down round my stockinged knees showing off my smooth, round bottom, its soft furrow fully exposing the tight pink rosebud of my anus to the viewer... - and five more pictures of me blatantly enjoying the introduction of the now- moistened dildo to my rosebud and sliding it right inside... If that lot didn't whet his appetite for me, I didn't know what would! I felt incredibly naughty e-mailing such revealing pictures to my new friend, I day-dreamed about him sitting at his computer, opening my files and arranging them all across his desktop; gazing at them while his prick hardens in his jeans, demanding to be released... Quickly unzipping, he would stare at my face, at my luscious open mouth, before grabbing his swelling organ and starting to pump, imagining that he's feeding the poker-stiff shaft between the soft red lips of his sexy femail-pal... And that was that. Together, we decided on the terms of our joint fantasy encounter: I would go down to visit him at his home and the meeting would have a strictly observed structure. Glenn was insistent that once we had actually met, I would then be able to make a choice: I could pay a sexual forfeit and earn the right to enjoy his sexual favours, or we could just have dinner and simply enjoy each others company - it would be entirely up to me. If I chose the forfeit, I would present myself for discipline as Jemima, all made up and dressed in my maids finery. I would be restrained in a manner that he would decide on the day, a vibrator would be inserted into me and switched on, and it must be kept up inside me throughout the duration of the punishment. I would then receive 12 strokes on my naked buttocks with a riding crop - they would be proper strokes, firm enough to hurt, but, since I was a novice in this area, not hard enough to leave marks on my virginal flesh. If I enjoyed the experience, however, in any future encounters it would be entirely up to me if I wished to surrender myself more fully to his skills with the whip... (..my heart was going like a jackhammer when I read this, what the hell was I doing? Trouble was, this 'Story of O' stuff turned me on me as much as it frightened me...) Once the forfeit was successfully complete, and if I had been a good girl, I would then be instructed on how I was to sexually please him. A bit scared, but very excited, I agreed my fate with my exciting new admirer. +++++Part 4 - Hoping to Please a New Lover So in a nutshell, I crammed my special travel bag full of my maids outfit, Jemima's make-up, shoes and things and hopped on the train to Reading. Quite a long taxi ride from the station to his house. Nice, tree-lined area, obviously quite wealthy, all the houses having proper long driveways with big gates of wood or wrought iron. I paid the taxi driver and, feeling quite nervous and out-of-place, walked up the path between the well-kept lawns to the large, wisteria-covered 1930's-era house. The door opened as I reached it and a tall, distinguished but informal- looking man appeared, smiling at my confusion. My heart flipped - the guy I had dreamt and fantasised over constantly for weeks was actually standing right in front of me - and he was gorgeous! He had a real presence, too. Looking back I always remember the friendly twinkle in his eye as he welcomed me, first with a kiss on the lips that had me quite flustered - Steve had only kissed me when I was dressed as Jemima - and then with a much-needed glass of red wine; all at once I knew, whatever was going to happen, Jemima was going to be in for the time of her life. To break the ice, I was given a tour of the house. Glenn had inherited it from his parents, and was obviously very proud of what he'd done with it. He showed me where the bathrooms were and which bedroom was mine for the weekend. I marvelled at the equipment in his gym room, images of sexy possibilities running riot through my head - maybe one day he would be working out on me in there - and admired the large converted attics, big enough to contain an entire apartment. Although by no means rich, Glenn had obviously not been short of money for quite a while. We sat in the conservatory and chatted - I was probably a little talkative and over-enthusiastic at first, because of nerves, but he didn't seem to mind, in fact I got the impression that he found it charming. When the second bottle of Tempranillo came out, we were both at ease with each other, and he started discuss exactly what the 'rules' of our encounter were going to be. I was to present myself at the door to his 'Study' at seven o'clock that evening. There was no pressure, I had all afternoon to think it over or change my mind. If I had decided not to go any further, all I had to do was turn up dressed normally and we would go out to dinner and a few beers. On the other hand, if I arrived dressed and made-up as Jemima, (...one girly ready to accept her punishment, Headmaster...) then it meant that I had decided to accept the forfeit and agreed to submit myself to his scenario. In the latter case, however, dinner would have to be off the menu; I would only be allowed to eat whatever Glenn wished to feed me.... There really was no decision to make! At about a quarter to six, I ran a bath, went for a soak, shaved my legs, trimmed my pubes into their usual heart-shape and gave myself a REALLY thorough clean - outside and in, if you know what I mean. Cream massaged into legs and arms, a dash of perfume on wrists and throat - not to forget between my smooth white bottom-cheeks... Afterwards, feeling quite relaxed and happy under the circumstances, I floated into my room and started to get changed. God, there's nothing like putting on stockings and stepping into a pair of high-heeled women's shoes. Every girl that has done this will really know what I mean... Whatever it tugs on, deep in my heart and groin, it never fails to work, never fails to make me virtually swoon with pleasure. The coolness of the hose before it's warmed by the at of your flesh. Sliding sheer stockinged toes into the smooth curves of the shoe, fastening delicate straps above trim, exposed ankles, then standing to find your balance, your weight flowing straight down onto the tips of your toes, you feel almost weightless, transformed by four inches of slender pointing elegance beneath each long arched heel. The backs of your calves pull up tight, all the way up to your pert, pushed-out, behind, their new poised length showing off every heightened curve, every taut muscle beneath their black nylon patina... sheer heaven every time! Jemima is reborn again, in her true image, adorning her body to display to the world what she truly is: supremely sexual, provocative, erotically welcoming and filled with the desire to exult in her femininity with a caring, reciprocating, male lover. Nestled within my carefully shaved, heart-shaped pubes, framed above full lace stocking-tops, my prick is as stiff as a board and flushed with excitement. It has been so long since I enjoyed the marvellous anticipatory thrill of knowing that soon I was going to be with another man. I hope he will like me. Moreover, I hope he will want me, want me enough to let me express my need to give him all the enjoyment and pleasure I can offer. Time to put the black satin panties on, pulling them up full and tight, the white horizontal frills running charmingly across the shapely curves of my bum. My prick is deliciously stiff, snug beneath soft, enveloping, satin. I sit at the bench in front of the vanity unit, the feeling of the soft padding of the bench under my bare thighs gives me yet another reason to be glad I'm a girl. I apply my make-up for this evening as instructed, minimal and light, apart from eyeshadow in deep blue shading to almost white, dark, luscious lashes and glossy red, wet-look lipstick. Following my specific orders for the evening, and feeling deliciously sluttish, I also apply copious amounts of lipstick to each of my stiff and eager nipples. Hair back in a simple ponytail (...don't want it catching in my mouth at any crucial moments, do we...) and simple gold loops for my ears. To finish the outfit, I put on my apron. Pushing my head through the opening, I tie the ribbon at the back of my waist with a big lacy bow. Pinning the perky little cap to the top of my hair, I slide the frilled, elasticated cuffs around my wrists and Maid Jemima is ready to serve her new master. I paused to admire the effect in the mirror on the bedside table: what would jump out at Glenn when he first saw me, in the flesh? - Would it be my pouty and kissable red lips... - or the swelling promise of my naked breasts peeking out from beneath their heart-shaped satin covering... - perhaps his eyes would be drawn to my upthrust and curvaceous bum artfully displayed by the backless apron... - or maybe he would enjoy my bare white thighs smoothly descending to long nylon- sheathed limbs and delicate white stiletto heels? My naughty, excited mind started to wander; would I make him hard when he saw me? Would his cock be as nice as it looked in the photos? Would he let me taste it? I left the room before my heartbeat went into overload... +++++Part 5 - An Entrance to Remember. The lights are dimmed in the warm room, the numerous rows of bookshelves lining the walls blending into shadow. I immediately notice the real fire - something I love - the smell of the wood smoke drifting cosily through the air. Most of the furniture seemed to have been pushed back, away from the centre of the room, to make space for something on the floor. Glenn is standing there, wearing a gold-coloured towelling robe, the soft light from the flames outlining every curve of his tanned, muscular legs, his broad shoulders... my head is spinning with images (...you want him to become the second man ever to possess you, you want to take him inside you, to worship his body with the heat of your own eager flesh...) He steps forward and behind him I see the place that has been prepared for me: a thick transparent plastic sheet has been spread across the thick carpet and a king-size white quilt thrown over it. He comes towards me, good body, tanned and still muscular, although he has obviously been much more toned when younger. Even with my heels on, he is a good three inches taller than me. He is extremely sexy and I know that I am rather over-excited by the sheer actuality of his presence. I hope he likes his french maid in the flesh as much as he'd said he had on the web... "Err... I think I'm a bit nervy..." I start to say but he just leans down and kisses me lightly on the lips, a smell of cologne and male musk that makes my chest tighten. It seems such a long time since I'd been in the arms of a real live man... Smiling, he looks me up and down intently while his right hand comes up and gently cups my right breast beneath the frilled apron front. He lightly squeezes its roundness and I feel my prick stir in my panties. It's like a dream somehow come true. His left hand slips behind me, starting to ruffle and play with the layers of frills covering my behind. I want him to kiss me properly. The hand leaves my bottom, reaching round between my stockinged thighs to press the palm against the front of my panties, feeling the awakening bulge within. Instinctively I push my hips forward, breathing harder, rubbing myself against his firm, exciting fingers. He laughs quietly and seems pleased at what he sees. Steve always said he couldn't believe how responsive I was to his touch. Glenn kisses me again and I melt with relief into the genuine warmth of his passion. Pausing now, my new master tells me that it is time for him to remove my panties - a thrill of pure erotic pleasure runs through my insides as he bares me, coolly pulling the frilly knickers down around my ankles without ceremony. I step out of them without having to be told. He stands behind me and slides his hands round under the front of my apron. My breasts arch into the warmth of his palms, my nipples stiffen beneath his fingertips and I taste my own lipstick on lips suddenly grown dry. Naked from the waist down, I stand in my maids apron and watch myself allow this stranger to stroke and fondle me intimately. The fact that he is still clothed makes me feel even more on display. I am completely his creature now, a totally sexual being, defined only by the exquisite sensation of his touch. Glenn inspects me all over, reaching between my legs to cup my exposed balls, my aroused prick, lifting my ponytail to kiss the back of my neck. His hand comes to rest across the soft curves of my buttocks: "Would you like me to whip you now?" he asks, already knowing the answer. My bottom gives an involuntary shiver and I nod - if I speak I think I might burst into tears. "Tell me," he insists, making sure I remember his character in all this. "Yes, I'd like you to whip me now..." I whisper, my face burning in my shame, my exciting humiliation. Without lingering, he motions for me to get on my knees, on the floor, in front of the quilt. I watch him gather together the items that I am to wear; I am impressed - it all appears to be proper (and expensive) bondage equipment. He holds up two sets of leather shackles, each comprising a pair of cuffs linked to each other by a short chain. I decide that one cuff of each pair goes around each ankle then each corresponding wrist is secured to it by the second cuff, in effect forcing the wearer to end up bent over in a sort of sitting position (...bare arse nice and ready, waiting for its punishment...) and I immediately become all too aware that I am actually here, dressed as a french maid, kneeling in front of this naked stranger and that I am going to allow him to tie me up and spank me for his sexual gratification. "Stephanie" I murmur soundlessly, practising the safe word that I have been given, even though I have been told I won't have any need for it... Sure enough, as predicted, Glenn moves behind me, quickly fastening a cuff round each of my stockinged ankles, above the ankle strap of each shoe. He pulls the straps tight. They feel heavy and substantial through the sheer nylon and make me feel very sexy and exposed kneeling there. Glenn grabs a brown velvet cushion from the sofa and throws it onto the quilt just in front of me. A firm push between my bare shoulder blades and suddenly I fall forward landing on top of the cushion with a surprised gasp (..ooff!). I lie there on my front, slightly winded, with my prick pressing into the soft velvet, while Glenn takes the opportunity to take each of my legs and bend them back at the knee. My white stilettoes wave in the air above my bum for a few moments. He is not fooling around now: "Put your arms back behind you and try to grab hold of each ankle." Completely enthralled by his dominance, I turn my head to one side, pushing my shoulders into the quilt and reaching back obediently. Before I know it, each of my wrists is taken in turn, inserted into its waiting cuff and secured neatly to the appropriate ankle. Glenn finishes doing up the straps and lets go. Immediately I try to move, but all I can do is rock slightly from side to side on the cushion. My weight readjusts and I utter a little cry - it isn't cramped or painful, but the muscles in my back and arms know quite definitely that they are being held captive in this unusual new position. I have never felt anything like this before: my arms stretch backwards, pulling my ankles up and apart, pushing my hips open, and serving to spread my buttocks wide apart. Cool air wafts up between the naked cheeks of my bottom, gently playing over the gaping rosebud of my anus and making me distinctly glad of my earlier thoughtful application of perfume... Simply and efficiently, Glenn has rendered me completely powerless - totally restricting my movements but still allowing him total sexual access to me at all times. Laid out on the floor in front of him like this, I feel about as exposed and vulnerable as it's possible to be and suddenly become aware of my cock swelling full and hard beneath me. I shift my hips above the cushion, trying to rub myself against the soft velvet padding, shamelessly betraying my excitement to the man standing over me. He makes me wait then, for quite a while, obviously enjoying the sight of his sexy bare-bottomed maid spread invitingly before him, not only utterly helpless to prevent him doing whatever he wanted to her, but also completely enslaved by her own depraved desire for it to happen... +++++Part 6 - Jemima is Very Obedient. My new master now shows me the next part of my preparation - a vibrating butt-plug. It is a long, fairly stocky cylinder with a definite helmet- like 'glans', capped at the end with a bar designed to prevent it from disappearing inside wherever it might be introduced... a wire leading out of the base links to a simple plastic switch. The rule was to be that once I had received the plug from my master, I must retain it inside me at all times - only he is allowed to remove it, if and when he might decide to enter me (...my stomach flutters wildly just thinking about it...) Glenn makes me watch him while he takes the top off a tube of lubricant, squeezing a good palmful into his hand before applying it thickly to the business end of the plug. The plug that he is seconds away from inserting inside me. I wonder how long it actually is - eight inches? Nine? Spread wide open on the quilt, I can do nothing but give the muscles of my poor rosebud an anticipatory work-out. He disappears out of my limited angle of vision, down towards my middle... down towards the temptations of my spread-eagled backside... A lubricated finger lightly touches my exposed anus, making me jump, despite myself. Lazily, it probes and enters, swirling and pushing, pulling back and pushing in, hooking itself deep inside the warm luscious depths of my hole. It stops moving for a moment concentrating on rubbing a secret place that sends my legs trembling in their restraints. Busy fingers move up inside me, coating my muscles with warm jelly, making me rock from side to side and bringing little moans of delight from my open mouth. Their work done, the fingers are withdrawn, to be quickly replaced by the thick shaft of the plug sliding wickedly into my rectum. Accepting the bulge of the head makes me groan and twist a little at the feeling of sharpness slipping past my muscles, but the shaft continues to be unrelentingly pushed into me. It feels very far up now, a ghostly pressure anchored at the base by the clasping ring of my anus, fills the very centre of my body. Eventually the bar comes to rest, snug and sweet against my exposed perineum. The feeling of the wire poking out from between my buttocks sends a shiver of degradation running through me. Unseen hands switch the vibrator on - the noise of the motor is muted and quiet in the dim room but the sudden explosion of pulsing and buzzing inside my wriggling, uncontrollable, bottom tells a different story! The feeling grows, very arousing yet supremely unsatisfying, both at the same time. I hold it inside me obediently, my muscles resisting the growing urge to expel this artfully vibrating intruder. That's the thing I find with butt-plugs - they can creep up on you unawares, particularly if you're near to coming, so you have to watch them. Glenn lies down next to my side, his face directly in front of mine. Firmly holding the back of my head he kisses me again, his masterful tongue once more probing and exploring my hot mouth. His hazel eyes seem to be sparkling - I guess he is getting turned on. I close my eyes, partly to hide the fact that for some peculiar reason tears are welling up inside me. The strength of my emotions takes me by surprise. Minutes pass, and more minutes go by. All the time he draws out the kiss, taking his time to savour my position of helplessness, taking in my obvious receptiveness to his desires, exciting both of us with this subtle demonstration of his power. I want him to take everything I have. Finally he breaks away: "The sooner you pay the forfeit, the sooner you can have the reward..." he whispers, eyes sparkling wickedly, and I see then that he wants to have me as much as I want to be had! "Yes... yes..." is all I manage to get out, my mind overloaded with thoughts and feelings, my insides thrilled with the constant, unwavering buzz in my behind. He disappears again, momentarily, then I hear him kneeling behind me. Strong wide fingers slide into my mouth, depressing my tongue, making my jaw relax, before pushing the smooth, hard sphere of a ball-gag between my wide-open lips. The straps are pulled tight, just below my ponytail and I begin breathing noisily through my nose, my head swimming with the reality of the hard latex filling in my mouth. I realise my master has had me plugged me at both ends. Scary though it is, I have to admit the increased feeling of helplessness adds to my mounting excitement. "MMmm..." I try to speak, experimentally and quite inaudibly. For a split second I wonder just how I would get my safe word out, if I needed to, then from behind the sofa, the instrument that will be used to discipline me is produced and I can think of nothing else. Glenn brandishes a proper long leather horse crop, about a yard long, thin and whippy with a little tuft at the end. It looks like he could inflict pain with that. I start to get scared. Moving into position back between my legs, he runs the tip over my lube- smeared bum and down between my spread buttocks, tracing around the buzzing plastic cylinder jutting out of my stretched anus, burrowing under to tickle the back of my balls. I hear the long, slow swoosh of the whip and the first stroke arcs across my bottom (...OWWW!!...) with a sting that brings my head up with a snap. "MMMM!!" I manage to yell through the stiff vinyl of the gag. "Remember to keep hold of your new friend..." he reminds me, helpfully, before once again I hear the dreadful descending swoosh and... SsshhWACK! my buttocks crease with flame. I try to remember that he is taking it easy with my virginal skin, but it feels like I'm being marked for life... SssshhhWCCK! The next stroke spits more fire, sending me whimpering in my gag. I struggle in my bonds, it feels good to be held when the pain SssshhhWIICCKK! My bum throbs white-hot but my erection is trying to drill its way through both cushion and quilt into the floor. I gratefully accept my new-found master's discipline, loving him for being willing to grant me the gift of lying here helpless before his will. This experienced, strong-willed man, makes me feel so open and exposed, both physically and mentally, and I marvel at the expertise that makes me both fear and crave his next attention to my behind. SsshhhhWWACCCK! When the next cut lands the familiar impact makes me jump and the raw heat flooding through my buzzing, smarting backside actually makes my eyes start to water. I don't know if I can bear another one, but what choice do I have anyway? The vibrator keeps my cock pressed hard into the yielding softness of the pillow beneath me and I seem to discover that I am starting to daydream about Glenn kneeling in front of me, the gag in my mouth replaced by his stiff cock while he reaches over my back and continuing to use the long whip on my dancing, smarting, buttocks... Yes, on reflection, it doesn't seem to hurt all THAT badly... But the next stroke never came. I wait, opening my eyes again - I sense he is still standing behind me, but what is he waiting for? "Slight change of plan," he whispers, "I need to do something right now." Bending, I feel him bestow a single kiss on each glowing cheek of my bottom - my heart melts inside my chest once more - then I cry out through the gag as the butt-plug is roughly pulled from my rectum, leaving my poor hole bereft and empty. Just as I work out, with a muffled exclamation, what that might mean, my new master's weight pushes down on my back, between my outstretched knees, to rest heavily in the backwards cradle of my shackled arms and legs. His robe discarded, I feel his nakedness lying full length on top of me, pressing intimately against every inch of my own bare skin. Helpless to do anything except accept the weight on my shoulders and tender backside, I start to breathe heavily with excitement, feeling a hairy stomach nestling into my lower back and strong forearms sliding beneath my reversed arms, bracing themselves on the padded quilt. Sheathed in cool smooth latex, the erect cylinder of a well-aroused prick prods lustily at my splayed bottom, (...Oh my god he's going to do it...) and sure enough, hunching his body right up against my defenceless rear, my new master mounts me; no waiting, no delay, just a quick, straight lunge inside with a brisk, degrading, assumption of familiarity that brings a wail of pure excited lust from my throat. In the most intimate way possible, this man is claiming me for his own. I briefly experience the extraordinarily releasing feeling of my anus stretching open to accept his swollen, probing shaft. The slick coating on the condom, together with the lubrication from the butt-plug makes it really easy for me to take him and almost immediately it feels like his entire length (...eight solid inches right up your grateful arse...) is embedded deep inside me. He raises himself a little and I thrill at the sensation of his balls softly falling into the gap between my tender, wide-open, bumcheeks. Sometimes, when your bottom is filled right up with your man, it's difficult to know where to turn. Even if you're not spread immobile on the floor beneath him, you don't know whether to clench and squeeze tight around him, or relax and wait for him to take control, when every deep primal feeling you possess is screaming at you to (...beg him buried right inside beg him to give it to me fuck me fuck me oh fuck me my love...)... Bound and breathless beneath his not-inconsiderable weight, my mind is racing (...an inch further inside you than Steve ever was, can you feel it up there?...) I realise I have never felt so totally, overpoweringly, possessed by a man as I do now. As if in answer my zealous new lover sighs against my back: "Jesus, that is goooood..." sending tremors from his chest vibrating through my entire body; "I figured neither of us could wait any longer...", he confesses, somewhat guiltily. It was just as he had warned me. I was there purely to serve my master's needs (... just a quick ride to try the bitch out...) and at that moment he wanted to fuck. Strong hands slide under my spread-eagled front and close around the twin globes of my titties, anchoring me to his thrusting body. The man on top of me starts to work himself in and out of my burning hole, my bottom squelching at each new assault, he is stretching me with his slippy sliding glans bumping warm and hollow into the depths of my being my core... (...fucking me reaming me oh yes oh yes on top of me doing me making me...) The little part of my mind watching me rocking and moaning beneath my handsome new lover is amazed at how different it is from being fucked by Steve - Glenn is more confident and purposeful and somehow so much more intense. Our bodies locked together in sheer unconstrained lust, I feel the man above me directing my movements, making me follow his lead in the timeless, driving rhythm of sex. Shoving and back and SHOVING and back and SHOVING - with each divine sliding PUSH into me my prick is crushed into the softness of the cushion beneath me. The stimulation overlays the sheer erotic power of my complete submission to this powerful stranger (...please don't stop don't stop oh I can't...) and I feel my orgasm building between my spread thighs, my hips humping uncontrollably beneath my lover's weight... "Oh baby, yeah," he gasps in my ear and above me his body goes rigid, flattening onto my back, his loins pound against my backside and he comes... - and again it feels subtly, erotically, different from Steve, the same incredible hollowing sensation of 'bigness' releasing into me but no tell-tale wetness gradually making its presence known inside, no warm sticky outpour up between my buttocks, or oozing from my stretched and happy entrance. That said, I can still feel his love moving softly within me, flowing through me, making me whole once more and in return I grant him the heart-felt gift of my receiving... Afterwards I lie there exhausted beneath him, feeling his shaft still ramrod-stiff up inside me. I find myself idly musing on the benefits of taking mature men as lovers... I haven't come but I really don't care, instead I gradually notice that my throat hurts and my eyes seem to have filled with tears. I close them in the hope that my wonderful new love won't notice what he has wrought. +++++Part 7 - Jemima is Put Completely in His Hands We remain collapsed there on the floor together for a moment, the calm after the storm. Kissing the back of my neck, he unties my gag, allowing me to gratefully relax my aching mouth and lips. I rest there, enjoying the intimacy of his weight on me, his prick still joining us together. I am flushed and light-headed with exertion - and I haven't been doing any of the active part of the fucking! After a few minutes, he pulls out of me and I utter another little cry as he withdraws. He removes the filled condom from his softening shaft and in my depraved imagination I see him emptying the contents into his palm and instructing me to lick the salty blobs of semen from his fingers... He has to manhandle me upright again, onto my trembling knees. He unties the bow at my back and removes my apron over my head, leaving me utterly naked except for my little maids cap and cuffs, my gorgeously rouged nipples, my fine stockings and heels... I am pointedly aware that the vibrator does not seem to be being re-introduced to my behind... Finally I kneel before him again, wrists and ankles still bound, backside throbbing with sharp pangs of pleasure and heart racing excitedly in my chest. Oh, he is so tall and proud standing in the glow of the fire, his strong masculine form rearing up before me: I have given my body to this man, letting him enter and enjoy me as he would a woman. Once more I feel that familiar wonderful and scary lack of self, that urge to totally surrender, to deliver my heart and my being up to him, to worship and obey him, my new love, my own new master. He speaks, back in character again, and his words wipe out my mind once more: "Perhaps it's time to try your mouth a little..." I gaze in undisguised admiration at his beautiful cock, tight and thick in its nest of wiry dark hair, noting that, like Steve, he is circumcised. It is already semi-hard again and growing bigger, curling up against his thigh. Knowing that it is waiting for my lips sends my stomach churning with excitement, (...suck your master's cock and get him hard again...) I want to make him want to have me, I want to make him fuck me again, without a condom this time, and I want to hear him call me "baby" again as he shoots hot sperm up deep inside me. Glenn moves to position an armchair to face the high leather back of the sofa. He sits on the edge of the chair and, without questioning, I kneel on the floor beside him. Barely a foot away from my fascinated gaze, his glorious cock is erect again - it looks so big to have been inside me - and I watch enrapt as my lover reaches for a foil packet from the pile on the floor next to the chair. Our eyes meet as he carefully opens it, revealing the familiar transparent circle of strong latex - how I wish I was allowed bring him off in my mouth, I would swallow his seed so gratefully and lovingly... Watching my face, Glenn slowly rolls the sheath down over the proud veined shaft. (...This is going right up your sweet ass again, baby, but this time it's going so far up you're gonna beg and plead for mercy...) I can smell the faint fresh residue of his ejaculation blending together with something sharper - the tang of the fruit-flavoured condom - and I feel myself growing warm all over, my prick hardening uncontrollably between my kneeling thighs. My master notes my growing excitement and gently smiles. I blush with shame, knowing that my every thought and desire is wide-open to this intelligent, sensitive, man. He makes me get to my feet, and I find myself standing in front of him in the narrow gap between his chair and the sofa back. Shackled and bent over, my head is already in the perfect position hovering above his prick, my still-tender rear within easy reach of his outstretched hand. With the authority of a man who has successfully claimed his territory, he runs a cool and gentle palm over the burning cheeks of my bottom, sliding a thumb between them, caressing and massaging the crack and bumhole that now totally belong to him. He pierces me easily with two fingers while, simultaneously pushing my face into his lap from above. My excited cry is silenced with a large mouthful of latex-covered, cherry-flavoured, cock. He plays with me leisurely, while I purr with delight, throwing myself as best I can onto the thick shaft in front of me - the fruity taste is as much a novelty to me as the smooth rubbery sensation of the condom in my mouth. Funnily enough, I decide that the blatancy of it all actually enhances the sheer girliness of standing there, my lips greedily wrapped around eight inches of succulent American manhood... I find my position is making it difficult to suck properly, so reluctantly I content myself with licking and kissing the hard weapon through its protective covering. I sense Glenn understanding my predicament, for it's not long before his fingers leave my backside and firm hands raise my face from his cock. I allow myself to be turned until I am facing away from him. Suddenly he grabs me round the waist and pulls me back towards him. My arms still pulled straight down, the wrists still firmly bound to my ankles, I can do nothing but fall backwards, down onto his waiting lap. Glenn sits up straight behind me, his tanned arms locking tight round my waist to prevent me falling forwards. Leaning back against his broad muscular frame, feeling his chest hairs rub against the skin of my shoulders, I become incredibly aware of my own body, sitting there smooth and white in stockings and high heels, pert, rouged, titties protruding above his strong enfolding arms, pale, bare bumcheeks spread invitingly across their cushion of firm male thighs - I feel so different compared to this man, so much more feminine, able to offer myself, soft and yielding, up to the demanding needs of his masculinity - I shiver, knowing that the moist hard cock poking enthusiastically into the small of my back will soon be provoking a similar sensation in a place deep inside of me... My new boyfriend leans forward purposefully, still holding me firmly to him, and his erection slides its way wetly down the entire length of my bumcrack. It hovers there for a few exquisite, teasing moments before suddenly dipping right under me to spring up once more, directly and heart-stoppingly introducing itself into the wide-open entrance of my anus. (...put it in me please put it in me do it now...) "ooHH..." I moan at the feeling, my hole still fresh and tingling from its previous encounter with this potent broom-handle of a prick. This is the cue for Glenn to firmly pull my hips backwards, driving himself up into my bottom before suddenly rocking my entire body back onto him - cunningly using my own weight to sink the spreading, invading, shaft right into my arse... "AAahhh..." waves of pure emotion flood through me as he plunges all the way in. The whole gorgeous length of him fills me, snug and hard, like before - I couldn't be more open to him than this - arms held fast at my sides, hands still firmly handcuffed to ankles, legs bent naturally back round the firm platform of his thighs. Totally impaled on his rigid, penetrating, weapon, my world becomes an intense jumble of erotic sensations: - my separated bottom-cheeks nestling snugly into his lap... - the exquisite feeling of his balls resting against the delicate skin around my stretched rosebud... - the hands that now cup my breasts, thrillingly exploring their shape and weight, knowing fingers caressing the taut redness of my nipples and driving me wild... - my head resting back gratefully against the supporting strength of his left shoulder... - the luscious warmth of his cock, radiating so deep inside me... I am a girl for him, his lover and partner, sexual plaything and total slave to his mastery and desire... Looking down at my spread, dishevelled body, I see my master's right hand delving down between my legs: "I guess," he whispers in my ear, grasping the delighted column of my erection with his strong fingers, "if you work real hard, you get to have me jack you off..." His words burn through my loins like a short of pure adrenaline, and I feel myself go crazy. I start to wriggle and jerk on his knees, desperately working my hips, trying to pump myself into my lover's firm enclosing fist. His thick cock burns and pulses inside me as I jiggle and bounce, wanking myself towards a desperate, flailing orgasm, my pleasure enhanced by the realisation that I am doing all the work, literally being made to fuck myself on my master's magnificent rod. After a few exhausting minutes, his hand still grasping me round the base of my cock, I feel Glenn decide to take charge of the proceedings, making a move to raise himself up off the armchair. Levering himself up with his left hand, me still on top with his prick still deliciously anchored inside my bottom, he lifts our combined weight upwards using all the power of his thighs. I barely know what's happening, but I'm not stopping for anything (...come in my arse and make me shoot all over your hand...) my hips still jerking their away towards orgasm. Then the leather back of the sofa looms towards me and I give a little "ooff" as I am flipped forwards until my shoulders and upper arms are resting on the smooth, wide, edge. My master stands and takes me fully round the waist placing my buttocks right up into his groin, and driving into me with all his might. I wail my frightened pleasure out loud, hands and wrists dangling helplessly beneath me, most of my weight supported by the sofa back. He adjusts his grip, hands sliding down over the tops of my thighs to tightly cradle the backs of my legs - clearly aiming to gain the maximum amount of purchase from my precarious position. My quivering bottom is carefully angled against his solid, powerful thighs; I feel warm skin resting against my neglected balls and I hear myself make a noise like an animal, deep in my throat - I am literally, totally in his hands. He starts now, forcing his engorged member further inside me, where it can properly fuck the very heart of my bowels. With each unforgiving SLAP into my buttocks, the steady, devastating rhythm builds. SLAP - teetering over the back of the sofa, but at the last minute being pulled back onto the plunging, working prick... SLAP - falling forwards but my lover holds me firm - SLAP! (...OOFF! uhh...) - every thrust forcing little gasps from me, hammering my delirious prick right into the back of the leather sofa - SLAP! (...UUhh god...) - fucking me with strong, efficient movements, the head of my prick pushes roughly into the cool leather and SLAP!! - abruptly, helplessly, I come - warmth explodes through my groin and beneath my stomach, my straining member squirts a load of creamy sperm all over the sofa back. "Yeah, that's right..." comes an appreciative hiss from somewhere above my arching, wriggling, backside; SLAPP!! (...hAAhhh!) - squashing my exploding cock back against the wet leather...(...oh god I'm coming prick sliding in my come writhing on the end of his pounding, driving tool oh my love...) "Ohh baby, here it is", he warns me with a thick, urgent, whisper that sends me writhing and moaning like a madwoman. SLAPP!!!!! I feel myself grip hard around the burning, tormenting column inside me. The man ramming between my sweating, heaving buttocks clasps my haunches so tight I think my hips will crack; he shudders and jerks against me in his climax and once more I melt in shameful pride, knowing that only a layer of thin latex prevents my lover from giving my insides the heavenly, sticky coating of seed it craves and deserves... +++++Part 8 - Fringe Benefits of a New Lover Phew! - and the rest of that weekend went equally well, I'm glad to say! That evening, Glenn ordered some Chinese food in and we talked and drank and laughed till the early hours of the morning. He requested that I continue to dress as Jemima for him while we were alone and I needed no urging to comply, spending the entire evening flirting and teasing in my best violet teddiette and matching stockings. I felt so relaxed and happy, sitting beside him in front of the fire, my head on his shoulder, his hand idly playing with the taut suspenders stretching down my thighs while he told me of his life, his thoughts and his dreams. He had spanked and whipped a lot of submissive partners, and enjoyed going to S&M clubs in London and Manchester, but, he admitted, since the divorce it was rare for him to have sex with anyone, female or shemale. He wanted a bit more from someone than just pure sexual attraction. Funnily enough, he appeared to be a little like Steve in that he appreciated transvestites for their sheer erotic willingness to "play the game" and cater to his needs. I was so happy that we really seemed to be on the same wavelength on all the things that were important to me. Maybe it was because he was American, but Glenn seemed to me more empathic and emotionally aware than any man I had met so far - maybe it's all that Oprah! Later my new lover took it upon himself to undress me to the waist, spending half an hour kissing and sucking my bare titties before taking me in a knowing hand and unselfishly granting me my second delirious orgasm of the night. I was gradually gaining the impression that this guy was turning out to be someone a girl could fall heavily, head-over-heels, in love with... Later that night, we went to sleep together - like a real couple! - in his massive bed. Glenn seemed most approving of my white satin baby-doll nightie set, and, when we awoke late next day, approved even more on discovering that I had misplaced my panties during the night... I still swoon at the memory of that first morning together, - of awakening in the light of the morning to find myself snuggled against the new man in my life - my head on his chest, his arm round my waist; - of me wanking him to excited arousal while I confessed my private, dirty, fantasies of him into his ear; - of him suddenly taking control, pushing me onto my back and mounting me, missionary-style, like a woman... Our pasts discussed, no condoms came between us that morning and fifteen glorious, toe-stretching minutes later, my knees gripping his sides, I clasped him to me like my life depended on it while my lusty new boyfriend delivered his first load of creamy spunk right where it belonged - up between the quivering cheeks of my arse. I was his 'baby' again - and I loved it! Best yet, as he ejaculated into me, he reached down for my trapped, neglected prick and with a quick flick of his wrist brought me off against his warm, sweaty, stomach... and that made me wriggle my arse for him, I can tell you! I was in pure, unadulterated, sexual heaven - and I was still looking forward to giving the favourite new prick in my life a proper blow-job, later that morning... I think we went a bit mad over that first weekend together, but it really was so much fun, finding out just how much each of us excited the other. I reckon we must have fucked over half a dozen times, him actually climaxing inside me on three of those times - plus, in addition to that, I made sure I received his spunk in my mouth at least twice - I just couldn't get enough of it! It is truly incredible if you are lucky enough to meet someone who wants a great deal of the same things you want from life, someone who allows you to be yourself, who finds you sexy and whom you also find sexy as hell... I know that for me, in addition to all this, my ideal relationship just has to be crowned with the need to be with someone who genuinely enjoys asserting his maleness over me, someone with whom I can experience real, mutual, pleasure from my sexual submission to him. At the end of my blissful two days - and nights! - I caught the train back home, promising to return the next weekend, and feeling that Glenn stood a chance of being such a person for me. If somehow he found himself developing the same feelings about at me, I felt we could be the start of something special, something that had the potential to really go somewhere, if we both wanted it to. Just one week until I could be with him again... I didn't know how I was going to get through five whole days at work; it all seemed rather pointless compared to the joy of having eight inches of your new lover's cock filling your insides. I would have to settle with emailing him every night: letting him know my dirty thoughts about him, telling him again how much I had enjoyed receiving my punishment and how I longed to be put over his office chair and soundly spanked "to warm my ass up" one more time. Maybe I would ease the boredom a bit by posing for a few more pictures and sending them over to him, just to keep my new boyfriend in mind of what was in store for him once we were together again. Over the next few months, it was looking as though a lot of good, unclean fun was in store for Jemima and her new man!