The Deal free porn video

THE DEAL by Superbuilt My wife (Joan) and I made a fortune during the dot-com bubble and had the good luck to get out near the peak. Then, we managed multiply our fortune several times by getting out before the real estate bubble popped. Still in our early thirties, we have settled back and are enjoying the fruits of our labor (and good fortune!). Joan is a devoted shopper, and has very good taste, and occasionally, if she is in the right mood, she will use some of our seemingly limitless funds to get me something 'pretty,' sometimes even something really sexy. While she let me know she doesn't mind me enjoying the feel of my lingerie whenever I want, she also made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that she is not a lesbian. Things went swimmingly for quite a while, but my perpetual craving to wear something feminine during our love making was clearly grinding on Joan in a way I couldn't understand. She must have married me for love because, at the time, neither of us had any money, and I had made sure she knew about my proclivities. Didn't she still love me? I would do anything for her, didn't she feel the same about me? I tried to make her understand that I didn't want to BE a woman, wearing lingerie just turned me on and I wanted to make love to her while dressed, but she made it perfectly clear: I was welcome to dress up, or we could be intimate, but not both. As time passed our love life was cooling down, although whether it was any more or less than any other couple's typically did as they aged, I can't say. One night I snuggled up to her and began kissing and caressing her in an attempt to get her in the mood, but she declined. Being refused, and tired of feeling rejected, I put on the beautiful little red babydoll set that she had given me on Valentines day, went into the bathroom, and 'took things into my own hands.' Relaxed and relieved, if not satisfied, I was still wearing it when I climbed into bed. "Is this really what you want?" she asked. "To dress like a woman all the time?" I didn't hear any of the usual disgust, just curiosity. And thank god, too. As guilty as I always felt about my crossdressing, and defensive her question made me feel I was almost said something really counterproductive. Instead, I managed to bite my tongue. "I would really love to be able to share this with you." I told her, begging her to find some middle ground with me. "Well..." she haltingly offered. "If you can resist bringing it up for a while, I promise that I'll give it some serious thought and see if I can't come up with a acceptable compromise. Now, why don't you get naked so we can snuggle." I stripped and was back in bed in seconds, snuggled up to her, imagining the posssibilities. When I finally did get to sleep, I had one vivid erotic dream after another. Joan finally pushed me out onto the floor and told me that if I couldn't stop thrashing around, I could go sleep on the couch. When she came out to the living room and awakened me in the morning, she said with a laugh that it was the best second half a night's sleep she could remember. I laughed and told her it was one of the most erotic that I could remember. "I obviously need to keep this in mind while I'm thinking about how to deal with you and your ..." she muttered to herself as she headed to the kitchen to make breakfast. I figured that if she was willing to at least consider accommodating me, I should probably be more accommodating myself, so I jumped up and headed into the kitchen right behind her, offering to make us a batch of waffles. She thought it was a great idea, and started the bacon and a pot of coffee while I was doing my thing. "You know..." she said as she stood at the stove with a grin on her face, idly pushing the bacon strips around with her tongs, "It's kind of nice, you helping out around here for a change. Maybe if I let you express your girlie side I can get some domestic help while you are enjoying ALL the things real girls 'get' to do, like cleaning up the kitchen when you're through cooking. I don't suppose you'd mind, would you?" I laughed. "I was thinking more of making love in a nightie than being a french maid, although," I admitted with a grin, "it does have a certain attraction...." She whacked my bare back with her greasy tongs, but when I turned around, she had a big smile on her face. "You're just overflowing with good ideas this morning, aren't you?" We both had a good laugh, and enjoyed our breakfast and the rest of our morning together. She seemed to be out of the house more than normal the following week, and every once in awhile I caught her giving me an odd look out the corner of her eye, sort of 'sizing me up,' but there was no mention of her offer to 'consider' things. I didn't know what to think, but I knew better than to press my luck. She may not have been accepting, but at least she was showing less rejection than ever before. Early the following Saturday morning, a week after she had agreed to give it some thought, she snuggled up to me as I slept and whispered in my ear, "would you like to be my girly-girl this morning?" I was still lost in the depths of an erotic dream and replied, "Oh yes please, mistress! What would you like me to wear?" "Mistress, huh? Are you sure you want me to decide?" "Oh yes, mistress, anything!" I mumbled. "Okay," she said, "but you might not like it!" She broke out in a loud raucous laugh that brought me out of my sleepy haze with a start. "What's so funny that you had to wake me up? I was having the most erotic dream!" I whined. "Really? What was it about?" She actually giggled. "You were my mistress and you wanted to make me be your girlie-girl," I said. "Well? What happened? Did I dress you up all pretty? Did I put you in something sexy and let your girlie side out?" Joan asked, teasing. "No! I was just telling you that I wanted you to pick out whatever you'd like me to wear, when your insane laughing woke me up, darn it! Now I'll never find out how you would have dressed me!" It was my turn to laugh. "Why don't you go take a shower, and shave very closely. Then sit down at my make-up table and see what you can do with your face. When you get back here you'll find out how I would have dressed you!" "Yes, ma'am!" I agreed enthusiastically, literally jumping from the bed. "Oh, don't get too excited. You're just going to dress in a few simple things and then help me out around the house. "After you've had a little girlie time, we'll going to sit down and I'll explain how things are going to be. And, the last time I checked I hadn't become a lesbian, so don't expect any girl on girl action, sister!" Stumbling into the bathroom in shock, I started the shower warming up while I did my business. About the time I stepped into the shower Joan stuck head in the door and said, "Use my shampoo, conditioner, and body wash." I was perfectly willing to accommodate her. I used her body wash to give myself a nice close shave in the shower, too. I dried off and sat down at her make-up table. The last time I had tried my hand, it had been my sister's make-up, and it was still the eyeliner that gave me trouble now. I applied and removed it several times before I managed to get it passable. Not great, but good enough for staying at home. The mascara and shadow were relatively easy, and went on without any real effort, but all in all, it had taken me quite a while. I re-entered the bedroom to find her fully dressed and sitting on the bed, a smile on her face. "What's the matter? Make up not as easy as you thought?" She teased. "Just beginners jitters," I replied. "I'm sure I'll do better if there's a next time." "We'll see!" she agreed. "Here. Put these on." She held out a pair of my nylon and lace panties. Before I could take them from her hand, my spring had sprung. "Oh Jesus! You're a filly today, not a stallion! Go in the bathroom and take care of that silly thing! If you're not back here in two minutes I'm going shopping, instead." Rather than induce performance anxiety, her commanding tone of voice, that stuff about being a filly, and the two-minute time limit, all worked in my favour. Her dialog just served to arouse me even more, and two minutes was twice the time I needed. When I returned to the bedroom the second time I was flaccid. Looking at my dead soldier, she said "Wow! That went well...." as she held out the panties again. After I had my panties on and my equipment tucked, she handed me a pair of tan colored tights. "If you'd shaved your legs, you could be wearing nylons," she offered. "I shouldn't have to tell you everything." I wanted to run back into the shower, but I decided not to push my luck. Unlike the makeup, I knew my way around pantyhose and tights, and had them on in a flash. Handing me a padded panty girdle I'd never seen before, she said, "This should help improve your ladylike figure." I struggled to pull the padded girdle up my legs. I'm not sure how tight they are supposed to be, but I can say for sure that there was no risk of my junk displaying itself while I was wearing it! Next she gave me a push-up bra with built-in gel padding, and helped me get situated in it. "How's that?" She asked, as she caressed my chest while adjusting the straps and getting things arranged. "Very nice!" I gasped, shivering as she brushed my nipples during her ministrations. "You know?..." she commented with a sigh, making me wonder for a second or two. "I can see how being a lesbian might be fun!" When I spun to look at her my brief flash of hope was dashed. She had a big grin on her face. She said, "NOT!" withdrew her hands, turned to the bed, and handed me a pair of white nylon ankle socks. When I put them on and folded over the frilly lace cuffs, my ankles looked like a six year old's. "This will have to do for now. If you convinced me that you can perform adequately as domestic help, maybe we'll see about that french maid's outfit... Until then, go put on the red teddy I bought you, and your red patent leather heels. Then put this on," she handed me a short, flirty sundress, "and meet me in the living room." When I entered the living room she handed me the rag she was polishing the coffee table with. "Well, don't you look cute? Go ahead and finish, then do the dusting in here, and in the dining room. I'll be back in a little while." She strode from the room without looking back. I heard the door to the garage open and close, and thought she was leaving, but as I dusted the living and dining rooms I heard it opening and closing several more times. I wasn't sure what she was doing, but she had not returned by the time I finished dusting, so I got out the vacuum cleaner and vacuumed the downstairs. As I was returning the vacuum cleaner to the closet underneath the stairs I heard her footsteps above me, coming down. "Alright!" she said. "Into the kitchen and sit down at the table." It was clearly not a request. I was surprised to see the kitchen table covered with all sorts of paraphernalia, manilla folders of documents, pens, the Velcro straps from our sleeping bags, chrome plated steel handcuffs, and even something that after a few seconds of gawking I realized could only be a chastity device. "O.K., here's the deal." She cast an appraising glance up and down my body. Her glance stopped briefly at my admittedly second rate cleavage, and then stared for a second at the very short, flirty hem of my sun dress, and my tights covered thighs, the majority of which were exposed. "I'm a real, heterosexual genetic woman. Since you clearly aren't a man, and you want to sleep with me, you are obviously a lesbian. "It should be obvious, even to you, that since I am NOT a lesbian, and we live in the same house, we must be roommates. Not bed mates, not even bedroom mates, just two people living in the same house, basic roommates. "You may address me as Mistress, and from now on I will address you as 'Nancy.' Since it's just another way of saying 'sissy,' Its the perfect way to address someone who looks and acts like a 'nancy-boy,' "I'm sure it will give you a wonderfully humiliating thrill every time a REAL woman calls you a sissy!" "Thank you, Mistress," I replied, a shiver going up my spine. "Oh! I think I'm going to like this!" Joan giggled. "Now, here's the deal: you think that you want be a girl..." I started to open my mouth to protest but she held up her hand showing me her plam: 'stop.' "Well, o.k., maybe not actually BE a girl, but be treated like one of the girls. "You swear that you're only interested in making love with women, more specifically, me, but you want to do it as a girl. I've explained repeatedly that I'm not interested in sex with another woman, and that includes a man wearing woman's clothing. Wondering where that leaves you? I'm going to help you find out. "But, I really do only want ...." She held up her hand in a 'stop' gesture again, lifting the ball gag from the assortment of things on the table with the other hand. "Are you going to behave, or does mistress need to teach the young lady not to interrupt?" She dangled the gag from her fingertip. Remaining silent, I shook my head "No!" emphatically! "Okay." she said, dropping it on the table, right in front of me. "You WILL remain silent while I'm talking!" Although her tone of voice implied that it wasn't a question, I silently nodded my assent. "Good. Now, before you interrupted me I was about to say that I am going to lead you on a 30 day journey of self discovery. "Before that train leaves the station, I want to make sure you understand, in no uncertain terms, who is the engineer and conductor, who's just a passenger. You will be riding on MY train and I will always be in charge. Put your left arm behind the chair." She picked up one of the velcro straps and strapped my wrist to the bar on the back of the chair, securely. "I will be driving, and you will be along for the ride..." she continued, picking up the handcuffs. She put one end around my right wrist and the other around the right armrest of the chair. "Your face is so red! Is this making you hot?" She reached down and caressed my smooth crotch teasingly with the palm of her hand. "Oops! Forgot! Little girl's don't show arousal that way, do they? Oh well..." She rolled my chair away from the table and told me to hook the three inch heels of my shoes over the crossbar under the chair. She then wrapped velcro straps around my ankles, crossed them over my insteps, and then ran them down around the crossbar before securing them. The restraints weren't particularly uncomfortable, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out why she had secured me the way she had. There was no way she could see my state of arousal, but it was perfectly clear to me! During the course of my housecleaning chores I had become accustomed to the padded panty girdle, and was hardly conscious of it. Now I was as aroused as I could ever remember being, and the way it was restricting my erection was painfully frustrating. I was both disappointed and aroused further when I looked down: all I could see was a perfectly smooth crotch. When I looked up she was taking a document from the manilla folder. She placed it in front of me and said, "this is a binding contract You need to read it very carefully. It makes you my girl for a period of 30 days. "This is NOT a slave contract, although upon entering into it you will become a slave to my wishes. It's more like a school enrollment, or an enlistment contract. You might want to think of yourself as a foreign exchange student, since once you sign it you will be leaving the male world and entering 'girly-space.' "You will be giving yourself over to me completely, doing exactly what I tell you, when I tell you, and there will be consequences for failing to promptly complete your assignments. "Now, there are no penises in girly-space. Having one would be an impossible distraction for you, so, as you can see, I got you a chastity device. You will wear it the entire 30 days. You are going to be a girl! Girls don't have penises, and the sooner you stop imagining that you do, the sooner you can start enjoying things the way a girl does. "That's why, each and every single itsy-bitsy time you mention your penis or your chastity, no matter how obscurely, five days will be added to the length of your stay in girly-land. "You'll also notice that the contract includes a provision for a voluntary extension. At the end of your 30 day obligation I will release you from your chastity and allow you to spend the night, one night, in MY bed with me. "And DON'T' EVEN ASK! You will NOT be wearing anything feminine! "If you fail to unequivocally express your desire to resume your duties as my male partner by eight o'clock the following morning, or, if you in any way indicated a desire to do ANYTHING or wear ANYTHING 'girly' while your chastity is removed, it will automatically extend the contract another thirty days, under the same terms and conditions. "Now, I know you, and we both know that if being girly didn't have a price, you would keep signing up, 30 days at a time, forever! With that in mind, page five of the contract contains a list of lots and lots of things that can be done to feminize someone. If you 're- enlist,' whether it's by asking to wear something after your chastity comes off, by volunteering for another thirty days, or by earning additional days by mentioning 'that which must not be named,' I get to choose anything I want from the things on the list and it will be done to you. "That means I'm going to make you more of a woman every time you mention your penis, and every time you renew the contract, until you either get off the train or you've reached the other end of the track. "After you've read the contract carefully, you can decide whether you want to enter girlie space or not. But bear in mind how harsh some of the things on the list are! You'll want to be on your best behavior, because how you behave during your girlie time will undoubtedly influence which item of feminization I choose to subject you to. "If you're a good girl I may just have your ears pierced, but a naughty girl might end up with a tramp stamp. A REALLY bad girl might just wake up and find out that the train has taken her on a one-way trip to somewhere she can never come back from... read the list carefully. I'll be back later to answer any questions you may have." She left the room, and I started reading the contract. The clever way she had secured me allowed me to use my handcuffed right hand to turned the pages as I read it. The terms were pretty much as she described them, and I didn't see any reason not to sign it until I got to page 5, and that list! It was unbelievable! The list of things she could do to me included: a legal name change, a penectomy, Achilles tendon shortening, an uncontested divorce, body piercing, branding breast implants, castration, ear piercing, electrolysis, eyelash implants Getting a tramp stamp, laser hair removal, liposuction, long term hormone implants, permanent makeup, tattooed barcoding, vocal cord shortening... There were even more, but they paled to insignificance! I was breathless. She wouldn't really do those things to the husband that she claimed she loved so, would she? After considerable thought, I realized I couldn't answer that. I never imagined that she even knew what some of those things were! I couldn't understand how she could even pretend she would do some of those things to me, much less write them down in a list! I was still staring at the list, unblinking, when she reentered the room quite a while later. She went around and slipped her warm soft hands into the cups of my bra from behind. "Well, have you read it?" she inquired as she played with my nipples. "Are you ready to sign it and become my girlie?" "You wouldn't really divorce me, or castrate me, or make me get breast implants, would you?" I blurted. She put a finger over my lips. "Shhhh... Don't worry, baby. You read the contract, right? Your first trip to girly-land is free. None of those thing can happen if you get off the train at the 'first stop.' "Of course, mentioning 'that which must not be named' would add five days, which amounts to re-enlistment, but it would only be a minor extension, so to speak, so I would probably just do something minor. You know, have your ears or your navel pierced? Or maybe have you get a beauty parlor treatment?" "But, mistress, I don't know if I could tolerate being in chastity for 30 days!" "How about if we lock your little friend up in it right now?" she said with a smile. "I'll let you try it for twelve hours. If you haven't asked me to take it off by then, we'll consider it the same as signing the contract?" "Let's make it until nine tomorrow morning. That should give me plenty of time to get a feel for it." "Okay, if you sign a couple of things now as a showing of good faith," she agreed, setting the contract aside. "Don't worry, even if you sign the contract I can't do anything with them unless you buy another ticket." "What sort of things, mistress?" She flipped through a folder and picked out a piece of paper. "Well, how about this application for a legal name change." I looked at the form she put down in front of me. She had typed "Maria Nancy Johnson" in the box for the new name. While I was reading she gushed "Just think! If you reenlist, your maiden name might end up being the same as mine, like we are sisters! And isn't it just the perfect name for a housekeeper? I mean, all my friends have maids named Maria, why not me? And of course 'Nancy' is synonymous with 'sissy'." Well, I had already decided not to sign the main contract, I would have to have been insane! And since signing it was a pre-condition to her filing the name change I didn't see any danger in it. I knew I could always change it back later anyway, so I signed the form. "See! Its so easy that even a little girl can do it!" Willies ran up my spine as she rolled my nipples between her fingers again. "Now," she was taking another form out of the folder, "here's an interesting one, an 'Application for an Uncontested Divorce,' all filled out and ready to go." She must have seen the shock on my face. "Oh, relax!" she said. "It divides everything evenly, right down the middloe. Even doing something that allowed me to file it would still leave you in better shape than if I divorced you and asked for everything, so what do you have to lose?" I feigned reluctance as I signed it, laughing to myself. She was playing into my hands, threatening me with incredibly erotic, in fact terrifyingly erotic things that were arousing the hell out of me. Next she produced a medical power of attorney that allowed her to subject me to any plastic or reconstructive surgery that she though appropriate to improve my 'girlishness.' She had actually put the term 'girlishness' on the form! The thought of giving a woman carte blanch to do anything she wanted to my body, up to and including changing my plumbing, gave me an incredible rush. I delayed signing to drag out the thrill, but I wasn't entirely acting. In reality, it had been the last straw, and as I read it, I decided, once and for all, that I would never sign the main contract. "What's the matter?" She teased. "My little Nancy girl isn't afraid of a little thing like misplacing the family jewels, is she?" While one hand continued to caresss and pinch my nipple, she removed her other hand from my bra and teasingly ran her palm up and down my flat crotch again. "It wouldn't change much, would it?!" Having tricked her into emasculating me even further, and making me even hotter in the process, I signed away the rights to my own body. "Let's adjourn to the living room. After I show you how the chastity works we can have some quality 'girl time'." She placed the handcuff key on the table in front of me and then released the Velcro strap restraining my left hand behind my back. "Bring the chastity with you," she ordered, taking the documents I had signed and striding confidently from the room as I worked on releasing the rest of my bonds. When I came into the living room she pointed to the paper towel on the coffee table and the pillow on the floor next to it and suggested that I kneel down and have 'one for the road' before we started. "Who knows when your next opportunity will be?" she said with a laugh. It didn't take long, once I got the girdle and tights pulled down to mid thigh. Once the pressure was relieved, and my future urges were properly constrained, at least in her mind, she indicated with a motion of her manicured fingers that I was to pull the tights and padded panty girdle back into place. We then sat together on the couch drinking margueritas and sharing snacks and 'quality time.' She was friendly, even charming, and although she never did anything overtly sexual, things were painfully cramped in the chastity the whole time. Around 11:00 I decided I was ready for some sleep, and needed to get away from her before I exploded! "The front guest bedroom is Nancy's room. Nancy's clothes, and other things are already in there. All the makeup you'll need is waiting for you on the make-up table, too. That is the only place Nancy is allowed to sleep, and Nancy will never ever leave her room without proper makeup! I will determined what proper makeup is, based on whatever plans I may have for her day." She gave me a squeeze and a peck on the cheek and informed me that she had put some things out on my 'new' bed for me. Deciding @to enjoy her participation as long as possible before I asked her to set me free, I headed to the guest bedroom to see what awaited me. The long white nightgown was so beautiful that it could only have been part of a very expensive bridal collection. I stripped to my bra and panties and slipped it over my head. I was almost overcome by the smell of my favorite perfume as the silken folds slid down over my head. She had sprayed her most intoxicating fragrance inside it, just for me! I laid down on the bed and savored the fragrance, and awoke with a start, realizing the room was lit by daylight coming in the windows! I sat up abruptly and looked out the window, but the overcast made it impossible to estimate the time. I looked at the clock and flopped back down on the bed in relief. Thank god! 7:45. I could play around for at least an hour and still have plenty of time before I needed to tell her to take off the chastity: I was not going to sign the contract. I lounged around in my new boudoir for an hour, playing with my new makeup and lingerie until about 8:45. Then, wanting a margin of safety, I went to seek her out. I found her in the kitchen, sipping a cup of joe. "Good morning, Nancy!" she said, a little bit too cheerfully for me. "There's coffee in the pot!" "Thanks!" I replied. "While you're at it, how about a warmup, Nancy?" she asked, indicating her cup. It was clear that she expected me to serve her. I poured myself a cup, topped hers off, and sat down next to her. "You may as well knock it off with all the Nancy stuff, I've decided not to take you up on your offer," I informed her. "What do you mean?" She seemed surprised. "I'm just letting you know that I want this thing off," I replied, indicating my trapped penis. She turned and looked up at the clock. "It's a little late for that, isn't it, NANCY? Your time was up at 9:00. And be careful what you say, NANCY! You've already earned yourself five additional days, and one 'improvement' of my choice, NANCY!" I looked at the kitchen clock in shock. It said 9:49, and I knew I was fucked! "That's not fair!" I whined. "The bedroom clock is off!" "Not my fault," she informed me. "I asked you to change all the clocks when daylight savings time changed, and you said you did. You have no one to blame but yourself. You're mine for the next 35 days, so get used to it, NANCY! "I'll lay your clothes out on your bed for you before I get dressed. When you've finished cleaning up the kitchen go get dressed and wait for me in your room. I'll be in to help you with your makeup when I'm ready." I rinsed and dried the cups, and put them away, cleaned up the coffee pot, wiped the counters and headed to my new room. When I saw the little girl's Easter dress and the huge petticoat on the bed with it, the Shirley Temple wig on my make-up table made perfect sense. Next to the wig was that damned contract with a pink post it on it. 'Sign me here, Nancy -->.' The arrow pointed to my signature line. She had already signed and dated it on hers. I contemplated not signing it, until I remembered signing the uncontested divorce, and what she said about the severity of the punishment being related to whether or not my behavior pleased her. "Yes," I realized, "for my own sake, I have to be a perfect little girl, or whatever she wants me to be, for the next thirty five days ...." I signed the contract.