Tweak Chapter Six OMG Simonne Gets Titties
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Tweak - Chapter One - Another Frustrating Night At The Club free porn video
A wealthy young man and his dominant girlfriend find themselves at
loggerheads -- in a sexually charged manner of speaking. Can they find a
mutually agreeable way to break through this impasse? Perhaps they can
with the capable and deviously skillful assistance of some most unusual
friends, in some most unusual places, and in some most unusual ways.
Author's note: Although I'm posting this in serial form, I assure you,
dear reader, this humble offering consisting of eight chapters, is
complete.
"Tweak"
By: Simonne Danielle
© 2008 - 2010
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One - Another Frustrating Night at the Club
"C'mon Simon, you and Linda get your cute butts in here," Melissa called
out with the imperious aplomb for which she was so well-known and which
brooked no argument from the dozens of patrons waiting to be admitted.
A frustrated and slightly perturbed falsetto, though thoroughly feminine
baritone voice, complained from the front of the line, "Hey Melissa, how
come you always let him in ahead of everyone else?"
"Because he's cuter than you, Regina, you drag whore. And he's my very
own wannabe queen. Even if he doesn't know it yet," Melissa laughed back.
"That's one of the perks of my job. I get to choose who gets in -- and
when. So behave yourself."
"Bitch!" 'falsetto baritone' fired back.
Simon held on tightly to Linda's hand as she led the two of them past the
three dozen or so crossdressed businessmen, amateur drag queens, working
'girls', and curious straight couples anxiously waiting to be admitted.
Melissa, in her inimitable regal manner, allowed Simon and Linda breeze
past the velvet ropes without even bothering to collect the hundred dollar
entrance fee.
When Simon first began frequenting the club a few months ago he had
willingly paid the hundred dollar cover. That was the price one paid to
gain entry for one night of unequaled pleasures the very exclusive and
very private drag bar/female impersonator extravaganza/sex club provided.
Until he first came across the nightclub's quarter-page ad in the Times he
had never even heard of drag queens -- or female impersonators -- or any
of the kinky perversions he'd witnessed there since. Regardless, he found
himself irresistibly drawn to this den of iniquity like a moth to a flame.
Simon and Linda had met several weeks ago and had been dating each other
exclusively ever since. It was only after Simon began bringing Linda, his
assertive and definitely obstinate girlfriend, to the club that the
imperious hostess/sole-owner stopped charging him to enter the club.
Melissa had already become undeniably enamored with the docile and
diminutive Simon and his girlfriend Linda. She had decided that they were
to be her next 'project'.
The club was known far and wide for its no-holds-barred nights of
debauchery.
"What? No hugs and kisses for your favorite Mistress, Simon? I'm hurt!"
Melissa moaned in mock disappointment, but loud enough for anyone close by
to hear.
Simon looked embarrassed and Linda giggled a bit at his discomfort in
being singled out and so publicly chastised. He looked up into Melissa's
eyes. He had no choice but to look up. Melissa was perched high atop her
throne -- which is the only way to describe it, padded as it was in
brilliant royal blue velvet trimmed garishly with golden silk cord -- from
which she ruled the roost. It forced everyone to look up to her in homage
as they willingly and eagerly paid their cover charge.
She liked that.
Her gorgeous long and slender legs were crossed but did nothing to conceal
her petticoat, her gartered and seamed black nylons, her ruffled sissy
panties, and especially the obscene outline of her rock-hard nine inches
of tranny meat. It always got hard the minute she laid eyes on Simon.
Simon was her project du jour. And she had set a course guaranteed to
insure that Simon and his precious Linda reached their full potential.
Simon bowed his head and dutifully announced loud enough for at least
those near the front of line to hear, "I apologize, Mistress Melissa. It
was thoughtless of me."
Simon had to stand on his tip toes as he reached up, almost childlike, and
wrapped his arms around the neck of the regal-looking Mistress Melissa
before timidly pressing his lips softly against hers. Melissa wrapped a
single arm around his slender waist and pulled him roughly between her
splayed legs before forcefully shoving her tongue between his lips. He
could feel the hardness of her cock pressing urgently against his belly.
She released her hold and reached out to tweak Simon's left nipple with
enough force to make his knees buckle and cause him to gasp sharply as he
winced in obvious pain. Nipple-tweaking was the device Melissa used --
quite successfully, mind you -- to send her silent message to Simon, like
the minions who had travelled down this road before him, that she was not
to be disobeyed. In a remarkably short period she had found Simon to be
quite responsive -- in precisely the docile and submissive manner she
dictated.
With the burning pain in his nipple as a reminder Simon blushed furiously
knowing what she expected him to do in front of all these waiting patrons.
His embarrassment and humiliation was almost more than he could stand.
But he was helpless to do anything other than what this goddess -- his
goddess -- was silently demanding.
With his face burning and with his girlfriend Linda and Mistress Melissa
looking on expectantly, he delicately grasped the outer seams of his khaki
Dockers between his thumbs and forefingers and dipped into a perfect
curtsy. If he'd been wearing a sissy dress or a provocative French Maid's
uniform like the one Melissa was wearing tonight his petticoat and ruffled
panties would have been on full display for the waiting crowd to witness.
"That's much better, Simon. A much more proper greeting I think. Don't
you agree, Linda?" she laughed. "I think a submissive curtsy is always
in order. I see you've been practicing, haven't you?"
As it was, the crowd at the door went ga-ga watching Melissa so
effectively control this obviously wannabe submissive sissy. A smattering
of nervous applause could be heard. Each person in line -- boys and girls
alike -- knew it could have just as easily been one of them.
With a bit of dramatic flare Melissa reached out and patted the obscene
bulge which had grown increasingly more rigid inside Simon's khakis with
each passing second of his public humiliation. With her other hand she
continued to tweak and twist Simon's agonized nipple.
"Alright my darlings, you may enter," she giggled. "Bring me a drink will
you? Seeing you so excited, Simon, makes me thirsty."
Linda's excitement wasn't quite so obvious. There was no tell-tale bulge
showing under her jeans. To Melissa's expert eye, however, Linda's
glassy-eyed stare was a dead giveaway. Melissa's legs were still splayed
wide, though only visible to Simon's and Linda's view, as she fussed with
and fluffed her short black satin skirt and lacey white petticoat. Both
Simon and Linda had a bird's eye view of the nine inches of rock-hard meat
Melissa lovingly referred to as her clit confined as it was inside her
white nylon sissy panties.
"I only wish I could get him to kowtow to me the way he does to you,
Melissa," Linda complained.
"All you have to do is dress and act the part, bitch," Melissa suggested.
"Try wearing shorter skirts and some decent heels once in a while."
"I wear dresses all day at work!" she complained argumentatively. "When
I'm out and about I need to be comfy. Dresses at night! Way too
impractical for this girl! And you can forget about getting me into a
pair of those skyscrapers you always wear."
Laughing, Linda grabbed Simon's hand and led him towards the bar. In the
large showroom off to the left the crowd was gathering in anticipation of
the first drag show of the night. It was one of the finest female
impersonator extravaganzas anywhere and folks came from far and wide to
see it.
"C'mon Simon, the first drink's on me tonight. God, I just love watching
Melissa do her thing! Especially when she does it to you!"
"Oh I don't mind it that much, Linda," an unconvincing Simon replied,
trying desperately to regain at least a little composure. "It's kinda fun
being the center of all that attention. And seeing Melissa happy makes me
happy too," Simon shot back. Then, in an attempt to divert attention away
from his own obvious discomfort, added, "Boy, would I love to see you in
an outfit like that! Did you see those fancy panties? And that
petticoat! Would you ever look hot in a getup like hers."
"Are you kidding, Simon? I couldn't imagine anything more uncomfortable!
Can you picture what she has to go through? I mean, fussing with nylon
stockings and that silly garter belt. Way too impractical for me! And
petticoats! For heaven's sake! Petticoats in this day and age! Yuck!
So impractical! I wish you'd stop harping on that subject. It's getting
boring."
Linda wasn't kidding either. She was probably the most practical girl
Simon had ever known. Practical to a fault. Don't misunderstand. Simon
loved Linda. She was the first girl he'd dated with whom he was
comfortable enough to bring into the club. With the others he was way too
fearful they'd find his fascination with drag queens a turn-off. Or
worse, kinky and perverted.
From the beginning he'd sensed something in Linda that erased his previous
concerns with other girls. She seemed open and willing to accept just
about anything. Anything except acceding to his constant badgering that
she wear the style of clothing he was so obviously attracted to -- the
outrageously sensuous and sexy lingerie -- the sinfully short dresses and
skirts -- the tantalizingly bizarre costumes worn by all the drag queens
and many of the avant garde genetic girls who frequented the club. He was
especially captivated by the real nylon stockings held taut by purposely
visible garters and those sexy sky-high stiletto heels adorning the legs
and feet of those he so admired.
Much to Simon's constant dismay, all that finery was far too impractical
for Linda. First of all, Linda considered herself a professional woman.
She was a legal secretary. In fact she was executive secretary to the
managing partner of one of the state's largest law firms. She was
efficient and bright. And as such, she believed she should be recognized
and desired solely for her mind. She pooh-poohed the very idea that her
exceptional good looks and extremely sexy figure made her desirable in the
least. In fact, she would become downright angry, hostile even, if any
man even hinted that he was interested in anything other than her
brilliant mind and work ethic.
And god help any man who raised his voice to her above a whisper. That
was cause for instant excommunication -- an abrupt end to any further
relationship with the authoritarian Linda. Probably the inevitable
outgrowth of her three failed marriages to men who had been verbally and
physically abusive. She was determined to never allow another man to
treat her like that again.
Simon was perfect for her. Sweet, docile, compliant Simon. If it wasn't
for his constant whining about her 'practical' dress code he'd be even
more perfect. As bright and intuitive as she was it didn't take her long
to recognize his fetish for drag queens and all the impossibly impractical
costumes they wore. The first time he timidly invited her to his favorite
club -- his playground -- and she saw how easily Melissa controlled his
every thought and deed by simply tweaking one of his nipples and flashing
her panties she was jealous. It was the one area where Linda couldn't or
wouldn't compete with Melissa or any of the other queens. She refused to
wear all that bothersome lingerie and complicated outerwear. Even if it
meant less control over Simon.
Linda steadfastly insisted on dressing 'practically'. Pinstriped pencil
skirts with their tailored jackets at work. Jeans and sweat shirts
dominated her casual wear. And her lingerie! It could hardly be called
lingerie. Always the same. White, unadorned, cotton underpants and bras.
And, pantyhose of all things! Never the nylons and garter belts Simon so
desperately wanted her to wear. The 'practical' court shoes she wore at
work were no higher than an inch and a half.
She knew how her manner of dress frustrated Simon and she tried to use his
frustration to control him. Just as Melissa used her seductive manner of
dress and nipple-tweaking to control him. She knew by allowing him to
lewdly cavort with the drag queens at the club or even imitate their
swishy mannerisms in that sissy way he affected in the club he'd be horny
enough by the time they got home to give her a proper fuck.
Notwithstanding her cotton undies! It gave her some satisfaction knowing
how excited he'd always be after a night at the club.
And lately Melissa had been gaining even more control over Simon by simply
tweaking his nipples. It had become her wordless command for him to do
whatever it was she wanted him to do at the moment. Sometimes it signaled
that he should dip into a submissive curtsey like he did just a minute
ago. Other times it dictated that he should reach under her skirts and
grope her tranny meat. Whatever her wordless wishes were -- no matter how
embarrassing or humiliating -- Simon seemed to know instinctively and
complied without protest. His reward was always the same. He was always
treated to a lingering glimpse of her seductive lingerie and the treasures
that lay inside.
Linda had tried tweaking Simon's nipples. Her efforts were met with
indifference at best. Sometimes he'd complain ... "Ouch! That hurts!"
... or some other such form of disinterested rejection. But he never
reached into her clothing to grope her the way he did with Melissa or even
some of the other seductively attired queens.
At the bar one of the queens had sidled up next to Simon in that seductive
way they all seemed to have. She smiled a knowing greeting and reached
out to casually tweak his left nipple. As the bartender set down their
drinks Linda glanced over to see Simon react with Pavlovian
predictability. His hand deftly slipped under the mini skirt of the cute
little number and began groping the queen's ass. She knew it wasn't her
ass he was interested in. Or even the tranny meat hidden inside. Well,
maybe he was interested in those just a little. More than likely though,
it was the queen's silky pink panty and her satin garter straps that
intrigued Simon. Linda knew it was pink because Simon had her skirt hiked
that high.
She was more than a little green with envy but knew at the end of the
evening she'd be the one taking Simon home. Thank god it was still early.
Simon would have plenty of time to run his hand under lots of skirts. To
caress lots of asses. Even to fondle lots of sissy clits if he got really
lucky. By the time they got home he'd be dripping with anticipation.
Still, she'd keep him waiting. Tormenting him further by forcing him to
watch as she slipped into a cotton tee shirt and a pair of sweats. Her
normal nightwear. Then she'd allow him his relief. And hers, as well.
"Come, come Simon. Stop dawdling. Take Melissa her drink and don't spill
any like you did last night," a frustrated Linda ordered.
"Yes Linda. I'll be careful," he replied with docile geniality.
The queen who Simon was groping wiggled her butt and giggled. Even she
was enjoying Simon's discomfort at being ordered about. She turned
towards him and planted a soft kiss on his cheek and gently patted the
obvious bulge in his trousers as he walked away to deliver Melissa's
drink.
Linda engaged the queen in mindless conversation while Simon headed off.
She even took advantage of the cute little tart by running her own hand
under the god-awful micro mini she was barely wearing, shamelessly groping
the queen's very rampant five-inch pecker.
Oh yes, as much as she detested wearing all those sexy things Simon wanted
her to wear, she simply adored caressing a nice stiff cock encased in a
pair of silky panties -- almost as much as Simon. She'd even considered
adorning Simon in silky lingerie of his own just to take the horny edge
off him and the pressure off her. But then, she didn't own any. And she
sure wasn't about to spend her hard earned money on that silly stuff.
Linda took her sweet time bringing that very grateful queen to a
satisfying cummy conclusion. She wanted to allow Simon enough time to
bring Melissa her drink and then to run his hand under that cute maid's
uniform of hers. Yes, even Linda had to admit Melissa's uniform was cute.
And on Melissa it looked downright adorable. Linda knew Simon was
drooling at the thought of running his hand under that satin dress and
that frothy petticoat. He'd be that much more horny when she got him
home.
Linda made a quick side trip to the bathroom. She was anxious to wash all
the sticky cum off her hand. She'd seen the queens get each other off
lots of times and knew it was proper etiquette to lick up the remnants.
She'd never do that! She'd never tasted cum -- not even Simon's -- and
had no intention of doing so.
Five minutes later Linda approached Melissa's hostess station. Sure
enough, as Melissa sipped her Mai-Tai in a martini glass, the preferred
drink of most of the queens in the club, Linda saw Simon's hand buried
deep under Melissa's petticoat -- happily stroking her clit.
"Simon, if you don't stop you're gonna make me cum. My panties will get
all wet and sloppy. If you make me do that I'm gonna make you lick it all
up. Right here in front of everyone," Linda heard as she walked up to the
tail end of the steamy conversation.
Linda felt another pang of jealousy at hearing Melissa tempting Simon like
that. It was the one thing she could never get Simon to do to her. Go
down on her, that is. Their sex was always just as boring and practical
as the underwear she wore. Missionary position and decidedly vanilla.
Simon, although he would fuck Linda to get his rocks off, would never eat
her pussy. It was the one way he could exert some semblance of
independence. Until she caved in and started wearing some of the clothes
he preferred he'd never give her that exquisite pleasure.
For Simon and Linda it was their version of a Mexican standoff.
She heard Simon's heavy breathing and his squeaky whiny voice.
"God Melissa, I wish I could get Linda to wear silky things like these,"
he was moaning, not realizing Linda was within earshot.
Suddenly Melissa went rigid and her eyes rolled back in their sockets.
She was cumming! Flooding her panties just as she had predicted. And
Simon was still furiously pumping her clit. Linda could hear the squish.
"Be a good boy, Simon. Clean up the mess you've made. I don't want my
cummies running down my leg and ruining my nylons."
Linda watched as Simon began scooping up the opaque pearly goo and licked
it from his hand. Again and again and again. Linda was jealous. Simon
had never licked her after she'd cum or after he'd cum inside her.
Rather than show her jealousy, Linda put on her brave face and took her
normal assertive posture.
"Simon," she began, completely ignoring the fact that he was still licking
Melissa's cum from his hand, "if you love Melissa's clothes so much maybe
you should wear them yourself! I think you'd make a cute maid," she said
sarcastically but with a bright smile on her face.
In the back of her mind Linda was thinking just how 'practical' it would
be to have Simon mincing about the house in silky panties, or even more,
so she could control him as Melissa did. And, as an added bonus, have a
silk-encased cock to fondle whenever the urge struck. Which lately was
most of the time.
Linda's caustic suggestion was the opening Melissa had been waiting for.
"Linda! What a lovely idea. I'm sorry I didn't think of it first! Simon
-- our very own French maid!"
In fact Melissa had been thinking of little else since she'd met Simon.
She knew he'd make a lovely maid. He was so compliant and eager to serve.
With her in charge of things she could easily mold him into the perfect
maidservant. If only she could get Linda to come around -- lingerie-wise,
that is.
"You know, Simon, I have several more uniforms. And they'd fit you
perfectly. We are the same size, you know. I think my lovely pink satin
would suit you. Pink is for sissies, after all. Don't you agree, Linda?"
Melissa asked as she reached for Simon's nipple and gave it a forceful
tweak.
Simon continued groping Melissa's clit. If anything, with even more
submissive dedication. Melissa had already learned enough about Simon to
know that he was beginning to associate the painful tweaking of his
nipples with the exquisite pleasure he received from fondling her silks
and satins. Or just simply being permitted to gaze at them.
She also knew that Simon was, as she had announced to the throng waiting
to pay their admission, a wannabe queen. He was just like so many of the
other seemingly 'straight' guys who frequented the club. Chasing after
every queen in a skirt and secretly wishing they had the guts to get into
drag themselves. When Linda had so cavalierly suggested that Simon wear
the silks and satins he so desperately wanted her to wear, Melissa knew it
wouldn't be long before she had him wearing those things and carrying on
in the club with every other queen. Even more than that, she figured, it
wouldn't be long before she had Linda wearing all those pretty things as
well. Melissa did have that much power over just about everybody who
crossed her path.
"You know, Melissa, I do believe you're right," Linda giggled, enjoying
Simon's growing apprehension, even his growing excitement, over what
Melissa was cooking up. "I'd love to see Simon in a costume like yours.
Maybe then I could get him to do the things I want. I mean, a sissy maid
is supposed to obey his mistress' commands, isn't he?"
"Who knows, Linda, maybe if I can get Simon, or even you for that matter,
into some of that silky lingerie you refuse to wear he'll try reaching up
your skirt for a change -- like he does mine."
It was Linda's turn to be embarrassed. Embarrassed at Melissa's blatant
disclosure of just how much she knew about their intimate activities. Or
in their case, their lack of intimate activities. Simon and Melissa spoke
on the phone daily, after all. And Simon had obviously been talking out
of school.
Once again she elected to put on her brave face.
"Oh sure, like he'd ever crawl up between my legs and do the things most
real men love to do!" she snarled.
Melissa shot right back. "Maybe if you tried pleasing him by wearing more
provocative things," she rustled the hem of her skirt and petticoat for
emphasis, "he would. He sure loves snaking his hand under my skirts.
And the skirts of every other queen in the club."
She tweaked Simon's nipple. His right one this time. As if on cue
Simon's hand snaked up her skirt and began fondling her silk encased clit.
Melissa smiled victoriously at Linda.
Simon was learning his lessons well. And she had so much more to teach
him.
During the course of the remainder of the evening Melissa called over
several queens for private conversations. She watched with great pleasure
as, one by one, her minion socialized with Simon and Linda as they stood
at the bar.
Even though Linda kept her arm possessively around Simon's slender waist,
every now and then one of Melissa's chosen flock would stand close and
playfully tweak Simon's nipple. Simon would immediately turn away from
Linda long enough to reach under a skirt and fondle a silky pair of
panties. Fondle them long enough to cause a panty drenching eruption then
lick the gooey mess from his hand.
Each queen would smile coyly at Simon and whisper loud enough for Linda to
hear, "Oh Simon, I just love when you grope my clit. I just wish it was
your mouth instead." Then move off to make way for the next in line.
By the time 'last call' was announced Linda had counted no less than
fifteen queens who had gotten their rocks off at Simon's hand just by
tweaking his nipple. There may have been more because she had excused
herself to go pee three times.
And each time she peed she availed herself of the pleasures offered by the
several queens sharing the potty with her at the moment. She did love
feeling all those hard clits lounging so contentedly in some of the most
sexy and outrageous lingerie she'd ever seen. Not that she'd be caught
dead wearing any of it.
One or two of her potty companions even went so far as to slip a hand
inside her jeans. When they felt her cotton underpants they assaulted her
with comments like, "Yuck!" "How gross!" "What are you, some sort of
bull dyke?"
Even Simon's drag queen friends were turned off by her unfeminine manner
of dress. Despite her obviously feminine figure and appearance they
couldn't fathom why she'd dress the way she did. And they all knew how
much it turned off Simon.
Just before they headed out Linda decided to try her hand. She reached
across and tweaked Simon's nipple hoping that he'd grope her the same way.
Instead, Simon ordered one for the road and suggested they go home.
Coming Next: Chapter Two - A Wardrobe Change
As always, your comments are welcomed and appreciated.
Alma
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