Thangaiku Theriyaamal Amma Magalai Oothen
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Living The Life free porn video
God damn, this is a rush! This stuff turns me on something fierce! It
makes my nipples hard, puts a flush on my cheeks, and even under my
corset and panties it also makes my dick hard too. No, not hard enough
to tent those panties out but you can definitely tell that I'm turned
on. Of course, the man kneeling in front of me can tell that as well
and that turns him on even more and that, of course, turns me on even
more and... well, you get the picture.
I never would've guessed that I'd have found so many men out here who
wanted to be topped by a tranny girl like me. Yet, the mere mention
that I've got "something special" between my legs in addition to having
a good set of tits on my chest and I had guys lining up for the
privilege. That took some getting used to.
Oh, I knew there were guys who had a "thing" for girly boys like me. My
lover, correction, my ex lover, had found enough of those. But the ones
she found were crude and insulting fools who I wanted no part of
otherwise. She'd found them in a desire to break me. She'd brought
them home to "do" me and "do" me they did. She figured that enough of
this and I'd be convinced I was a worthless "thing." Yeah, she misread
me alright. Misread me completely.
During that time I also knew that there were at least some guys out
there who were both interested in trannys and could respect them too.
Steve was one such man. Sweet, sexy Steve. Turned out that once my
mistress had forced a set of titties on me (yeah, forced - she didn't
ask me if I wanted such a thing. She just drugged me and found a
surgeon to do the job) good ol' Stevie boy couldn't keep his hands off
my tits and couldn't keep his hands off of me, period. So I knew there
were some men out there who I'd enjoy being with.
But I thought they'd want me to stay in the submissive femme role.
Silly me. Almost as soon as I got out here to the Bay Area and began
checking out the scene I found that I was wrong. So very wrong! Almost
all the guys who started cozying up to me wanted me to be the aggressor.
They wanted me to roll them over on their bellies and start plowing. I
never expected this. But I learned. Quickly, did I learn. I also
learned to separate the guys who had an interest in tranny girls from
the tranny chasers.
Personally, I don't have much use for the tranny chasers. They're too
damn closeted for my tastes. They don't have the balls to admit they're
gay - or even bi. Instead, they want to pretend they're with a woman -
who just happens to have a dick. Too many issues there, thank you very
much. Oh, they'll do - as clients - but not for social needs. And not
for personal needs. I want a man who's comfortable with himself and
isn't afraid to say he likes cock. Those type of men work best for me.
But the tranny chasers work too - if properly generous.
That was something else I quickly discovered once I'd moved here. It
only took a couple of nights up in San Francisco at the Tranny Shack
before I found that some men had one hand on their wallets as they were
trying to get their other hand on my titties. That, and they'd pay good
money for even a brief few minutes of my attentions. Initially I was
very much put off by this. I wasn't a prostitute and nor was I a whore.
A slut? Yes! You betcha! But nothing more than that. Well, over
time, I began to reconsider all that.
First off, the bottom dropped out of the IT sector here in the Bay Area.
As the new girl at the company which had hired me, sight unseen, from
Back East, I was soon let go from their shop. I also realized that I
didn't have to do anything sexual with these men. By that I mean I
didn't have to have sex with them. Oh, I could bring them to the edge
of things, play around with their cock and balls, wag my cock in front
of their open mouths and even shake my bared titties at them - but I
didn't have to do more than that and yet they'd still pay for it. I
learned this from some of the other T-girl friends I came to know who
had already discovered this fact for themselves. Some of them had
gotten themselves set up in the various "houses" in the Bay Area and
began running a really brisk business from men who'd pay their money to
kneel before a shemale.
One of them, Suzy Tease is her out 'n about name and Goddess Sabrina is
her pro name, invited me along to sit in on one of her sessions. That
turned out hotter than I ever imagined. I knew she'd set it that way
but even so, I was still really turned on by it and didn't much care if
this particular client was a ringer.
She'd chosen well as the client was absolutely gorgeous. Six foot
something, 260lbs of pure muscle, hung like horse, submissive as all get
out, a deep fetish for T-girls and also utterly, utterly closeted. He
was pretty typical of a lot of tranny chasers in this. He'd realized he
was bi and had a thing for "chicks with dicks" only after he'd already
gotten married, bought the house, and popped out a couple of kids as
well. He had a nice, high paying job with a law firm in San Jose and
both his wife and his family were too uptight to cotton to the idea that
their darling, perfect, straight laced, macho man, liked to be dressed
up as a cheerleader and then bent over a shemale's lap with his skirt
hiked up so she could spank him and he could start squirming around
until he felt her cock harden beneath him. Yet, that was exactly what
he liked and, if done right, he would even manage to "wet his panties"
as a result.
I couldn't believe it when I first saw this man submit to Goddess
Sabrina this way. Something bit me watching it. I felt a real strong
burning inside me as I watched her put this man through his paces. For
one thing, it was all I could do not to fall on that boy's dick once
Sabrina had "accidentally" worked it loose from his panties as she'd
bent him over. She'd been doing the whole tease routine (and you
wondered how she got her regular name?) with this guy for about half an
hour before she decided to "punish" him for being "bad" by putting him
over her knees. Damn, he had a cute ass. What sent him over was her
caressing that cute ass after she'd spanked it nice and cherry red and
then began talking dirty to him.
She talked to him about how I was there to help. How I was there to
make further use of his ass. How I was a hot shemale like herself and
how I wanted to take out my cock from my panties, line up my shaft with
his rosebud, and jam my meat into his ass. That was enough for him.
All that teasing, all that spanking, all that caressing, and just the
fantasy of being done by a shemale sent this stud right over. That big
beautiful cock of his began pumping out his cum for all he was worth.
He made a beautiful mess on his Goddess' latex skirt. Of course, he
then had to lick it all clean. And then he had to kneel before me,
worship my feet, and apologize for cumming without permission. Yeah, I
was turned on alright. I was also hooked.
After she'd dismissed mister studmuffin, Suzy turned to me (no Goddess
stuff between us girls) and started playing with the fire she'd set in
me. Soon enough I was down on my knees with my face buried between her
latex clad thighs and working my lips up and down her cute little cock.
She'd been on the juice long enough that her pretty little bit of meat
never really got hard enough to fuck with but it did get turgid enough
for me to wrap my lips around it and make her coo with pleasure. She
eventually laid me on my back, brought her lips to my shaft for just
long enough to get me hard and get me wrapped, and then she moved
forward and sank herself back down on it. She was using me as a human
dildo and this was the first time I'd had my cock inside anyone in over
two years. I'd almost forgotten what it was like to be the one doing
fucking. Almost forgot. Odd how some things come right back to you!
Shortly, I'd rolled Suzy over on _her back and began giving it to her
but good. Oh yeah, I was hooked. We laughed about how well she'd set
me up - and then we fucked some more.
I figured that if this was what could happen in a session then I'd be a
fool if I didn't at least check it out. Also, at $250 an hour - cash -
the money was a sweet enticement indeed. So, in short order I was once
again at a new job as the "new girl." This time though, it wasn't my
Java programming skills that was earning me my keep.
Suzy started me off slow. She knew I didn't know squat when it came to
handling men as a pro domme so she had me pair with her as she ran
through some sessions with her other clients. She ran a house of her
own up off of Mars street (yes, there is a Mars street in San Francisco
dearie - it's right next to Saturn street and also next to Uranus
street) just up from the Castro. She'd been looking for a new girl like
me to replace one of her other girls she wasn't happy with. It turns
out this one girl had been getting a bit too physical with her clients.
Not that they minded this at all but such things inevitably would bring
too much heat down on the house so out she had to go. Now that I was
the new girl to replace her, Suzy had a bunch of her clients lined up
for me already.
It was fascinating stuff. I soon learned that not all of the men who
sought this out were as scrumptious as that first stud muffin. Some
were downright repulsive. They were however, all clean (house rules)
and all very well behaved. Suzy, being the good Madame that she was,
insisted on that and kept a couple of beefy gay boys at hand to keep
things in hand. So, I felt very secure exploring this new side of my
existence and damn if it wasn't a whole lot of fun!
My wardrobe that I'd brought with me from Back East was nice enough, and
it certainly had served me well in the business world, but I soon
realized (i.e. when Suzy had gone through my closet long before my first
day on the job) that it wasn't up to par for a newly created shemale
femme domme. So, that meant it was time for some shopping! I know, a
heavy burden to bear! I'd already known about Dark Garden and Madame S.
but now I was able to head over there to do more than just window shop.
I couldn't afford much to start with at first so I kept it pretty basic.
But with Suzy's help I soon was kitted out appropriately to be a little
sex kitten and bitch goddess all rolled into one.
Those first few sessions with Suzy were a real eye opener. I got to see
how much planning Suzy put into them and how she set it up make sure the
client got what he wanted, what he needed, and got it in just the exact
amount of time he'd paid for. Usually this was just an hour long
session. Sometimes it went for two hours but those were pretty rare.
Suzy told me of the few clients she'd had who'd paid for an entire
weekend and had her travel with them off to Vegas or New York to be
their arm candy and showpiece Mistress for some event. That was
expensive stuff and very, very rare. I've not gotten so lucky. Yet.
In time though, Suzy and I both felt comfortable enough with my progress
that she let me run my own sessions. At first she was my helper.
Eventually though, I no longer needed that support and was off on my
own. That was work, at times, but it could also be a lot of fun. Yes,
some of the things the clients wanted could be strange or, after a few
such sessions, could get repetitive. But the money was excellent. Even
with the "house fee" Suzy got, the money was still superb. Far better
than what I had made punching at my keyboard working for that software
house.
Soon my wardrobe had expanded to luscious proportions. Damn, did I ever
have fun with that. Lotsa and lotsa silky things, nylon stuff for days,
corsets, teddies, bustiers, panties galore, and - of course - shoes.
Lots and lots of shoes. Glorious shoes. High heel heaven! Open toed
sandals, platform heels, boots, stilettos - you name it. Most I bought
for myself to use at work. Some I bought for myself to wear
specifically anywhere but work. Some of my footwear collection was
bought for me by some of my clients. That could also be fun.
One man in particular was very fun with that. His needs were specific
and they were simple and they were exact. He would be dressed as a
little schoolgirl (of a specific school) and be kneeling for me as I
entered the room. The beautiful five inch stiletto heels he wanted me
to wear would be placed neatly in front of him, waiting for me to step
my Cuban heeled stocking clad feet into. The rest of my outfit would be
just as specific, just as simple and just as exact. Aside from it
always being Cuban heeled stockings, it also had to be a black lace
garter belt with a pink rose embroidered on the front center, no panties
(of course), all under a very strict and tight black wool knee length
skirt, and finished off with a white, starched, full sleeved blouse.
Oddly enough, while he specified that my hair be bound up in a bun, my
breasts should not be bound in any way and that I was to be bra-less
under my shirt. A pair of "birth control" glasses (birth control
because they were so damn ugly) would complete my outfit.
He was the naughty little schoolgirl who needed to be thrashed by her
headmistress. I would slip into persona even faster than I slipped into
those stilettos. I'm not a bitch in my normal life but I sure can play
one when the money's right! Soon I'd be pacing around this bratty
little schoolgirl, my heels making a delightful clicking noise with each
step I took on the hardwood floor. I'd punctuate those steps by tapping
a length of bamboo cane into my palm or upon my skirt clad thigh.
It was a real trip to watch this man immerse himself in his fantasy as I
walked around him and went there with him. Soon his girlish defiance
would melt into a caricature of a petulant teen and then into a scared
little girl who was soon begging not to be punished. All to no avail
however. At the right point, after enough pacing and berating, I would
soon have this nasty little girl bent over my desk for a proper
thrashing! This to was detailed and exact. I'd have this "schoolgirl"
bent over the side of the desk (we had a room fully set up as a
classroom, another as a nursery, another for "doctor's examinations,"
another as a corporate office, two rooms set up as a sissy dressing room
and, of course, the requisite dungeon space as well) such that I was
standing beside him as his head was on the desktop and his face mere
inches away from my crotch - close enough to see the outlines of my "un-
girl-like bulge."
I'd make a wonderfully drawn out process of raising his little
schoolgirl skirt and then make an even bigger deal out of just how much
of a slut he was for not wearing any panties! With one hand laced into
his hair and holding his face in place, I'd then begin to cane his cute
little ass for all the "wrongs" he done. He was quite experienced at
this and not only did he have a high pain threshold but he also had a
rather leathery ass from all the other thrashings he'd gotten over the
years. This meant I could continue canning his butt for some time. It
took some practice on my part to time it right and to gauge how he was
holding up but I usually could do so pretty accurately by watching his
body's reactions and listening to how short his breaths were becoming.
His babbling apologies for being such a bad girl were usually not the
thing to go by as he liked being able to cry that way.
Finally though, I'd relent and fold his skirt back down over his ass,
stripped as it now was. Then I'd have him kneel before the overstuffed
chair next to my desk as I "examined" the "filthy smut" he was "caught"
reading in the girl's locker room. This was all part of the scene and
it was usually an issue of one of those gay skin mags. The title varied
from session to session but it was always one which had lots of big
cocks to admire. I'll have to admit, a number of the men in those
magazines had some truly nice pieces of meat to admire!
As I would "examine" this "smut" I'd become aroused by it all. I'd take
off my glasses, "examine" some more, and then begin unbuttoning my
blouse - button by slowly undone button. Soon I'd be so hot and
bothered from looking at that smut that I'd have my skirt hiked up such
that I could get at my stiffening cock - what's this! The headmistress
has a cock! Oh no! - and as I'd pull on it, my nasty little schoolgirl
slut would creep forward off of her knees and begin nuzzling my oh-so-
sexy stilettos. I would sit there with my legs crossed and oh-so-
casually dangled one foot in front of his face. He'd become transfixed
on my shoes and soon would be lavishing himself upon them with a gusto.
I'd put aside the "smut" and begin taunting him with my heels. I get
such a rush when I do this.
Soon I'd have one foot pressing the point of its shoe into his balls as
he wanked himself under his skirt while I had my other foot up by his
face. He'd be holding onto my ankle oh-so-delicately as I allowed him
to lick my shoe all over and suck on its stiletto heel. The peak of all
this would come when I'd shift feet so that he was now sucking on the
shoe that had some of his precum smeared on it. As he did this I'd pull
on my cock and taunt him that he was a nasty cum sucking pussyboy
cocksucker slut. That was enough. That sent him right over. Every
time. Every. Time.
I'd wait for a few seconds as his orgasm would roll through him before I
then pushed him off of my heels. There'd usually be some of his cum
splashed upon the shoe I'd on his balls. So, as my bad little
schoolgirl slut would lay there at my feet she'd get to lick that off of
my shoes once again. Then, with my stilettos nice and shiny clean once
again, our scene would be at an end. I'd have him get back into his
original kneeling position and then I'd step out of those heels just as
I'd stepped into them. With that, I'd then leave the room. As part of
the scene's end he would take care of cleaning everything he'd made a
mess of. He'd then pack it away in his case - including my shoes - and
be off with himself.
Like I said, this can be great fun.
Some of my other clients just want to play dress-up with no SM involved.
They just want an hour or so of getting to be "one of the girls" as we
sit down with all the make-up laid out and the different outfits they
are to wear. Those scenes can be pretty light and fun. There are also
the harder scenes I do down in the dungeon room. Those can get real
nasty and darkly verbal. But even there, they really are just a slap
and a tickle compared to the real stuff. The stuff that I've already
done or was already done to me. There's much in the leather/ SM/ fetish
world that I do not do with my clients. I separate that so that I have
some SM left for me. SM which isn't associated with the business or
with any of my clients. Keeping that separation keeps it real and keeps
it fresh.
Fresh as in like the man I have here in front of me. He's handsome
enough and muscular enough. He's not some huge buffed out runway model
stud but he's tight enough and good looking enough that few would throw
him out of bed. Beyond his looks though it is his attitude. He loves
tranny girls like me. He's very, very bi and very out with that. No
closets for this boy. He's also kinky and submissive - and that's two
things I like in my men. Don't get me wrong - two other things I like
in my men is that they be kinky and dominant! But not him. He's not
one of the men who I like to rule me and sweep me off my feet. I've a
couple of those and they do a fine job of putting me in my place when
I've the itch that needs to be scratched that way. For the other times
though, there's my pussyboy here.
That's our play name for him. He likes to be objectified in our play
and "used" both physically and sexually. That is more than fine by me!
He is pliable to my desires without being some limp dishrag of a "do me"
queen. That's the reason he's gotten this far and that's why he's
wearing my collar. We "clicked" together so well that it just felt
right for him to give himself to me that way. I like that. So does he.
He's now part of my growing household.
Right now, he's part of me. Effectively at least. Or at least joined
with me. I've just spent the past hour working him up. And working him
down to. I may be feminized and have a nice smooth and womanly
musculature but I can still throw a flogger hard enough and well enough
for it to count and he's gotten pretty well counted tonight! His back
is nice and red and marked up. I love the feeling I get from swinging
my floggers. They're very different from my singletails. Those things
are more like scalpels to my floggers being like flexible baseball bats.
The singletails cut while the floggers thud and for a man with a nice
meaty back like my man's, the thudding is wonderfully sexy.
After good strong beating, I took him down from the St. Andrews and had
him kneel before me as I snapped a bunch of clothespins on his nipples
and around his pecs. Then I had him put his face down there between my
nylon clad thighs. Pussyboy is a wonderful cocksucker. He good at it
and he also enjoys it so very much. That's a good thing for it takes me
some time to get nice and hard. Even being on as a light a dose of
hormones as I am will tend to do that. But my pussyboy is persistent
for he knows that by being so he is pleasing me and that once I'd hard
enough there's other things to do with my cock aside from sucking on it
- and that's what came next.
Popping his lips off my shaft, I had pussyboy clamber up into the sling
and I shackled him into it. Once I popped his buttplug out, he didn't
remain empty for long as I soon slid myself into him in its place. His
sigh of pleasure and the way his eyes start to roll back into his head
as I fit myself into him is something that always touches my soul.
Aside from the pure carnal pleasure my fucking him gives me I also know
the connection it gives him and that's one of the reason we're so close.
Working myself into position, I begin to slowly draw out the fucking.
We both love this and are enjoying the rewards that come with having
worked up to it so well. I lean forward over him and begin to slowly
remove the clothespins on his chest. Each one that I pop off makes it
own little zinging addition to the wonderful sensations already swirling
around his body. For his part, he begins to caress my breasts and
nipples. I've left just enough slack in his bindings for him to do
that. I do love having my tits played with.
After a good long while of this, I begin to pick up the pace of my
fucking my man. I always have to choose my heels carefully for this as
I put a lot of pressure on them as I buck into him. Breaking a heel now
could be dangerous!
Soon though I'm holding on to his thighs and slamming into his ass. The
impacts from my pounding him are shaking his entire body as he lays
there in the sling and they make my tits bounce and sway along with the
rhythm. With just the last clips left on his nipples he's soon begging
me for permission to cum. I've trained him that well that he'll keep
himself at that edge until I tell him to go over it. He usually doesn't
have long to wait.
After enough pounding and bouncing and tweaking of my nipples, I'm there
too. I tell him to start working his cock and he takes one hand off of
my tits and wraps it around his shaft to start pulling on that. I pause
for a second, lean in, take hold of those two remaining clothespins and
bring my painted lips to his mouth. His breath is ragged as his eyes
heavy with lust, as our mine. My tongue parts his lips and buries
itself deep in his mouth. He yields his mouth to my tongue just as he
has his ass to my cock. I pop those clothespins off of his nipples and
suck his moaning cry deep into myself.
Coming up for air, I rear back and begin really pounding his sweet ass.
His hand is a blur as he pounds his cock. "Now, my pussyboy. Now. Cum
for me now!" I tell him through my clenched teeth as I too roll over the
top. Our climax is so sweet. So deep. So powerful. I love making
love to my man like this.
Falling forward onto him, I rest upon his chest and lazily come back to
earth from my climax. I love feeling my cock still inside him,
listening to his heart beat as he too comes back to earth, and using my
hand to idly finger his cum that was spattered onto his chest. Usually,
there's enough for me to rub onto my tits and coat my nipples. He has
to be ginger in licking them clean as they become quite sensitive once
I've climaxed. Yes, this is living the life indeed.
As good as this life is, I'm not quite ready to set up a "house" of my
own. I've seen the administrative headaches that Suzy goes through
keeping her house up and running - us girls can be a real handful at
times! No, the household I'm in the process of setting up consists more
of a group house with my immediate partners. So far there's pussyboy
here, he is my primary, and there's also slutgirl, she's my secondary
and is also a real girl - pussy and all - who enjoys a tranny girl like
me about as much as I enjoy lapping on her sweet, sweet pussy. That is,
after I've singletailed her back and ass long enough to get that pussy
nice and wet. Then there's pussygirl.
Pussygirl is a first for me. I didn't think I'd be attracted enough to
the idea of having a tranny girl like me around. We're a solitary lot
in many ways. I certainly didn't think I'd cotton to idea of feminizing
a man down the path similar to the one I was forced down. But there's
something tremendously arousing to me about the idea of a man
sacrificing so much of his masculinity to my dominance and control. I'm
not sure where this will wind up or how far it will go. I'm certainly
not being cruel or deceptive like my ex was with me. Pussygirl is a
consenting and equal partner in every step of his feminization.
So far it's just been the normal hormone routine along with some strict
dieting and even stricter corseting. I'll admit that it is tremendously
useful having a live-in domestic like pussygirl. The house is spotless
and she's become a pretty good cook, albeit under pussyboy's help as
he's an excellent cook. Right now I'm not sure which of my three
submissives has the better deal.
Pussyboy, being my primary, has the closest access to my heart but he
has no exclusive access to my cock. He has to share that with slutgirl
and, occasionally, with pussygirl. For her part, slutgirl now has two
tranny girls to hang with and play with along with pussyboy's full-on
masculinity when she's of a mind to it. For her part, pussygirl is
living her dreams of being dominated full-time, being a service
submissive, and being feminized in a detailed and loving manner as well.
For my part, I'm just living the life. I'd no idea that my being
sissified and winding up with a nice set of tits would serve me so well.
Especially once I took back my life and lived it on my terms once again.
I do still think of my ex, every now and then, and wonder how she's
getting on. It's been a few years now. From what friends I still have
back there, and from my more recent friends who've traveled through
there, I've learned that my ex has now gotten even fatter and more
miserable since I left. Pity. I guess she really threw herself into
her job once I was gone. It also seems that dear old Steve is no longer
with her either.
We actually crossed paths a year or so ago. He was out here for a
vacation and had found my listing on Goddess Sabrina's website. He
recognized me straight away. Actually, I don't know whether it was that
he recognized my face or recognized my tits, he always loved my tits.
In any event, that meeting was a tad strained, but we did catch up with
each other and how our lives had changed. He left my ex within a month
or two of my having cut out. She'd gotten even worse and more
vindictive. As I wasn't there, she had only him to take it out on. Oh
well, poor Steve. I was even flattered when he made a pass at me. But
I demurred. Too much had changed and to much water had flowed under
that bridge. I was also a very different person now. I think that may
have been what turned him on so much. I've gotten able to tell with
some men. The feeling I was getting from him was that he wanted me to
be the one holding his ankles up. Well, such things are better left in
the past.
So, we bid our goodbyes and parted at that. He went home to his life
and me, I went back to living my life - living the life. And let me
tell you, for a tranny girl like me, with tits like mine, in this city,
and with my kinks? Hell, living the life is good!
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