It Started With Tattooed Eyeliner
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It Started With Tattooed Eyeliner (2) free porn video
It had been two weeks since I had rashly made an unfortunate decision to
have my eyes tattooed with eyeliner. My wife, Erin, had reacted with
both confusion and rage, demanding that I wear a DD padded bra to work
the next day. She had also modified my Facebook profile, changing my
name from Jerry to Jeri and using a profile picture that clearly showed
my heavy black eyeliner.
Between my embarrassment and my fear of an anger I'd never before seen
in Erin, I put up no fight at all, and braced for the worst, playing out
in my mind the scenarios for what might happen next.
But it didn't. The weekend came and went. I wore my usual clothes,
running my errands, taking care of the yard work and helping around the
house. Erin even allowed me to wear sunglasses part of the time when I
was out of the house. Twice a day, she examined my eyes and applied
petroleum jelly provided with the aftercare instructions.
There was even sex one night, with Erin delivering a blow job like she
never had before. "Funny," she said, with those whore eyes, you look
like you should be the one going down on a dick. You know, like in those
porn videos where the slut with godawful eye makeup gets face fucked by
six or eight different guys and ends up with her makeup running down her
face. But that wouldn't be a problem for you now, would it? Maybe we
should arrange a party like that for you."
I started to answer, but she slapped me hard on the cheek. Nothing more
about my eyes was said until I raised the subject a few days later,
after getting home from work on Friday.
"Are you still mad at me?"
"Not mad, exactly, but I'll adapt. So, was that orgy of self pleasure
after getting your eyes done worth it?"
I didn't answer.
"Well then, I assume it's still a turn-on. In fact, why don't you let me
in on the fun. I want to see you jerk off."
"Ewww, no!" I said.
"Jesus, how selfish can you be? You go out and get permanent makeup so
overdone that it changes everything for both you and me, just for a big
wanking party. I'm now the woman married to the freak with eyeliner. And
you won't so much as let me enjoy seeing you jerk off to it? Here, I'll
even set up a mirror so you can look at yourself while you do it. Now do
it!"
She roughly jerked my pants down - pulling the button off and breaking
the zipper, then pulling my boxers down.
I was hard.
"Yeah, just as I thought," she said. "It really is a turn-on for you.
I've never seen you so hard, in fact. And even so, it's barely long as
my finger. Give me your phone."
She reached in the pants pocket and pulled it out. "Hold it next to your
dick. Don't worry, we're not taking a picture of it. Who the hell would
want it? Oh shit, your fucking phone is longer than your dick. Well,
maybe one just for the files." She took a photo with her phone.
"Now look at your bedroom eyes in the mirror. Oh yeah! Rub that little
thing."
Erin taunted me until I spurted. We both looked at my jizz on the
carpet.
"Now you think I'm going to make you lick it up, don't you? Isn't that
what they do in all that porn you've been watching? Well, this isn't one
of your porn videos. We're not playing any scripts. Shit, are you
already getting hard again?
I was.
"Damn. You've got another load in you. Jerk it again."
"I may need some lotion or lube. It's kind of raw," I said.
"Fuck that. You're looking for sympathy because you've masturbated
yourself silly? Wait here."
She went to the work room and came back with a pair of heavy rubber
gloves. "These are the gloves you got so you wouldn't burn yourself with
the stripping compound refinishing the dresser. Put them on."
I complied.
"Now try again."
She shoved the mirror in my face. "Try harder. Get harder. I want to see
cum," she said. She kissed me softly and stroked me, then pushed my
gloved hand to my groin. "Do it."
I began to harden as she taunted me. "You think this is fun? You have no
idea how much fun you're about to have. Stroke it!"
It took well over a half hour before I managed to cum again, by which
time my dick was red and showing abrasions from the rough gloves.
"Give me the gloves," she ordered. "Put your hands on your head and stay
like that until I get back."
She walked into the bathroom and the kitchen and returned with a tube of
Tiger Balm, a roll of Saran Wrap and a roll of duct tape. She put on a
glove and squeezed a large amount of the Tiger Balm into her hand, after
which she grabbed my penis and began to rub it in. I felt like my dick
was on fire.
"Awww, does little dickie burn? She began to wrap my cock in the Saran
Wrap, sealing in the Tiger Balm. Finally, she wrapped the duct tape
around my waist and balls, sealing my entire "panty area" in it.
"I sure hope you remembered to piss before we started this, because this
little recipe needs to cook for at least an hour. You should be loving
all this - you've spurted twice and look at all this kinky stuff I'm
doing to you. Now get a wet sponge and clean off the carpet. You don't
need your clothes. You're covered.
More than two hours later, my bladder was about to burst, and I begged
her to remove the tape.
"Lie down on your back and grab the bed post. This may pull a bit," she
said.
She found the end of the tape and pulled hard on it. My eyes were
closed, but it felt as if she had ripped my scrotum out.
"That was a short piece. Here's a bigger one," she said, ripping it away
as if she were starting a lawn mower. After three more, she instructed
me to peel off the Saran Wrap.
"Ready to jerk off again?" she asked, and laughed.
"Hardly. Please, can I get dressed?"
"You can take a bath. That shit stinks. Wait, let me help you. Go into
the bathroom and wait on me." She had gone into the kitchen for a steel
wool pad. She put the gloves back on and grabbed the end of my dick in
one hand and ran water over the pad, using it to scrub me harshly.
"Now, in the shower. Leave the door open. I don't want you jerking off
again with me not looking."
She watched with folded arms and a smirk as I bathed.
"Now are you ready to go again?" she asked. "We have lube," she said,
holding up the Tiger Balm tube.
"I think not," I said.
"Maybe we need to treat your peehole from the inside," she said,
squeezing a generous amount of the Tiger Balm onto a Q-Tip. "I want to
see you cum again. Make it good, or we're going give your peehole a good
scrubbing with this."
I stroked, but nothing happened. Erin pulled up my dick and slapped my
balls hard with her other hand. I doubled over and she stretched out the
dick, holding the Q-Tip with Tiger Balm up to the end of it.
"Here comes Roto Rooter," she said, then paused. The threw the Q-Tip
into the trash. "Nah, gotta save something for later. Now go fix
dinner."
"Let me get some clothes."
"You can wear this," she said, reaching into the closet and pulling out
the Bombshell bra. "You don't need anything else. You seem to have some
shrinkage anyway."
"But it's wide open in there, and it's getting dark outside. People may
see in."
She shrugged. "You win. You can have these too." She produced my red
platform "fuck me" stiletto heels. "There, now you should be happy.
There's chicken in the fridge. Cut it into strips and make us a stir
fry. I'll be on the computer."
I put on the shoes, which I had never actually intended to wear, and
began carefully trying to keep my balance as I began work around the
kitchen. Erin appeared with her camera. She stooped and aimed it at my
feet.
"Don't worry, missy. I'm just getting a picture of your pretty feet.
Turn a bit to the right. Now, poke your right toe to the side just a
big. Got it, but eww, we've got to do something about those hairy legs.
Back to cooking! I'll be in the bedroom."
"Please."
"What?"
"I don't want us getting into trouble. My privates are showing through
two big windows, and I'm not even sure it's legal. Please let me put
some clothes on," I begged.
Erin sighed. "Wait here."
She went to the trunk where my stash of female clothes was hidden and
returned 15 minutes later holding a Daisy Duke type middriff top and a
pleated miniskirt. She threw them at my feet.
"You can put these on, then finish cooking."
I sat on the ottoman and began taking off one of the heels.
"You don't need to take those off. You need to get used to being in
them. Stand up and put your clothes on standing. No sitting or leaning."
I fell twice putting on the skirt as my heel caught in the fabric, but
eventually got both feet in. The skirt cleared my genitals by less than
two inches.
"Damn, you went not only for hooker eyes but for a hooker wardrobe as
well. There's not a single decent thing in that trunk," said Erin.
I wasn't in a position to argue, and returned to the kitchen, where I
was slicing chicken on the island. Erin returned a few minutes with the
camera.
"You're just so cute I can't help myself," she said, turning the camera
vertically to capture my full length. "You cook, I'll be in the bedroom
on the computer."
"You're not putting that on Facebook are you?"
"Why wouldn't I? Social media is about letting people know what's going
on in your life. Is this not going on in your life?"
"Yes, but ..."
"And there hasn't been an update in over a week."
"That's because you took over the account."
"Well, the least I can do is update it for you now and then. Don't worry
missy. It'll be fine."
Erin returned to the bedroom and imported the new photos into Picasa,
then logged onto my Facebook account. She saw that Shelly was also
online and sent her an instant message:
"Hey there, how are things going at work?"
"Erin?"
"Yep."
"Not too bad. Things have quieted down. Nobody's talking about the eyes
any more."
"Has any of this been a problem in terms of getting the work done?"
"Not so far. The clients think it's funny. Everybody does, actually.
Weird, but they figure it's between you and Jerry."
While Shelly was typing, Erin uploaded the first photo showing just my
feet in the hooker heels. She added the caption, "Obviously, I need some
body waxing done. Can someone give me a recommendation?"
"LMAO," typed Shelly. "You gonna leave that?"
"Sure. How else is Jeri gonna find a place for hair removal? Hold on."
She uploaded the full-length photo of me in the skirt and midriff. She
put it in a Facebook album with the heels and titled it "Help Jeri Get
Presentable." She added the text, "As you can see, my hair removal needs
are pretty extensive. Who knows a good place for a full body wax?"
She texted Shelly again. "Think that'll get the job done?"
"LOLOL, I'm not sure. Want me to share it so some of my friends can help
out?"
"You willing to do that?"
"Sure, it'll be fun. BRB."
Two minutes later, a post appeared from Shelly showing the photos. "Hey
folks, help us out here. My co-worker Jerry Andrews is obviously going
through some personal changes and needs a lot of help. He (or is it she
now?) is looking for a body waxer. I'm also thinking that he's going to
need some more appropriate clothing. Anybody have any thoughts or
advice?"
She returned to the kitchen.
"You posted something, didn't you?"
"Yep. Shelly was even kind enough to share it."
"Shelly? She's a social media addict. She must have a thousand friends
on there."
"Closer to 1800, actually."
"I've got to go look."
"You've got to serve dinner. Set the table. What goes on your Facebook
page is none of your business."
She sat at the table and made me bring her food as if I were a waiter in
a fancy restaurant. As I set her plate down, she reached under my skirt
and grabbed my raw penis between two fingers.
"Hey, that hurts!"
"It's been well over an hour since you masturbated. You ready to go
again?" She twisted it viciously, then pulled her hand away with a jerk.
"I'm ready to eat."
"I'm eating now. You eat after I'm done. Then you can clean up the
kitchen. Just stand there until I'm done, in case I need anything.
Speaking of, bring me some of that Pinot Grigio."
Once she'd eaten and had a couple of glasses of wine, she gave me
permission to eat and clean up the kitchen. "Then clean up and come into
the bedroom with me," she said.
It took about a half hour to clean up, because the stir fry had been
messy. When I got to the bedroom, Erin was once again busy on my
Facebook page.
"Look at this, your friends are being very helpful. Several recommended
body waxing places, and apparently Shelly is very popular and
thoughtful. She also asked folks to help recommend more appropriate
clothing choices for you, and she's got ..." Erin paused to count, "14
responses."
"Let me see," I said. She stood and allowed me to read, but she took the
cordless keyboard with her. "I can't have you doing anything rash.
You've done enough of that already," she said.
I read through the responses to Shelly's re-post, stopping from the one
posted by Sharon Aderhold, my firm's personnel director:
"Appropriate for what? Office would be a different matter from night
clubbing," Sharon had commented0.
Shelly had replied: "If I get a vote, he needs to load up on clothes for
the office. With those killer eyes, I think he makes a much better
female."
"You have a point," said Sharon. "Either way, I think some long, loose
skirts with some pretty tops would be nice. And some nice, conservative
3-inch pumps or something."
Erin (still posing as me) added to the thread: "That sounds great. I'm
going to see if we can get in for some waxing this weekend."
Shelly, still in the public thread, asked, "We? Is Erin going too?"
"Yes," Erin typed. "Erin wants to get a full Brazilian."
"Sexy!!!" replied Shelly.
"Never know when opportunity might knock." ;-)
And that was that, thank goodness. I slept naked again, on the living
room floor.
Lesley
- 15.11.2021
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