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My New Life 3 free porn video
My New Life 3, a story by Dee Ramone © D. Ramone 2018
My New Life is an erotic novel by D. Ramone featuring themes of chastity
and cross-dressing and descriptions of sexually explicit acts which
those of a sensitive nature may find not to their tastes. It is not
suitable for such readers nor for anyone considered a minor by the
authorities in their country of residence.
My New Life is entirely a work from Dee Ramone and any similarities to
places or people, either living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The
names of all individuals in this story have been changed to protect
their identities.
Author's note.
It is sometimes difficult to write about one's own life story, you feel
something akin to one of those dreams where you are walking naked down
the main street with the world looking at you. Perhaps that is why all
of the positive comments have been so much appreciated. Those comments,
and my very dear partner, have encouraged me to write more. D.
My New Life, and how I came to accept it. Part 3.
Driving home that Saturday afternoon, I was so annoyed with Lisa for how
she had ostensibly gone out her way to embarrass me. It was one thing
for us to play our game in private; something altogether different to
let every man and his bloody dog know about them. The fact of the matter
was, I was foaming. Lisa picked up on my mood straight away. Funny how
women do that when men just grunt as their solitary response to female
conversation: like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
After several grunts from me, Lisa gave a heavy sigh. "Alright, what's
up?"
"Up? What could possibly make you think anything was up?" I mockingly
replied.
"O, I don't know. The way you just answered right there. Your long,
angry, silence up until now. Your heavy breathing ever since we left
Molly's place. And the fact you got a face that looks like you're
sucking a lemon," Lisa said, echoing the same mocking tone I had used
toward her. "Come on. Let's hear it."
I was silent for a while, other several snorts of disdain at her
behavior. Finally, I asked. "Why did you have to go and tell everybody
what we do in our private lives."
"Because it was cheaper than taking out a full page add in the local
paper," came Lisa's sarcastic reply. "But who, exactly sweetheart, is
this everybody you think I've been telling? And, while we're at it, what
was it I supposedly told them?"
"Well that Molly for starters," I hissed.
"For starters. Molly happens to be a very dear friend. And yes, I did
tell her something about you. I told her weeks ago that I had met
somebody. I told her we were getting close, and that I thought they were
very nice. Though, I'm beginning to wonder about the last bit."
"You must have said something to her," I maintained. "How else did she
know about me wearing your panties?"
"You told her," Lisa snorted.
"I did not," I protested vehemently.
"Yes, you did," Lisa replied. "You didn't mean too, I am sure. But, when
Molly pulled her little prank. You know, looking down at you groin
before saying the size. Heavens David, the way you blushed it was
unmistakable that you were hiding a little secret down there," Lisa
began to giggle softly to herself. "You know I think Molly does that to
all the men going into her shop, it's just her way of finding out who
the crossdressers are. She pretty good at that. Picking out the
crossdressers, I mean."
"So, you didn't tell her?" I asked, in a softer and more conciliatory
tone.
"Nope, not guilty your honor."
"Well, what about what you said in the DIY store?"
"And what exactly did I say?" she said smirking.
"Well, you said, you know asking for soft rope," I stammered, unsure now
if I hadn't made the whole thing up in my own mind. "And you asked for
chain, strong chain."
"O, my, God," Lisa mocked. "Hold the front page. I mean rope. There is
only one possible use for rope; bondage. Everybody knows that you would
never use rope to tie down a tarpaulin. Or who would be insane enough
to, I don't know, use it on a boat. Let alone use it to hold the
curtains back like I have in my living room. Or did you miss that all
the times you've been to stay? But chain, that's different. That has to
be for bondage, right. You would never chain up a dog, or chain a bike
to a fence or,"
"All right," I cut her off. "You made your point."
"Have I," Lisa asked softly. Then she placed a reassuring hand on my
thigh, saying. "Sweetheart you are going to have to get over feeling
embarrassed. What we do is our business, nobody else's. and people only
suspect you're guilty of something if you look guilty. You are going to
have to learn to live your life, our lives, the way you want to live it.
And to hell with the rest of them."
"That's easy for you to say," I replied.
"It's easy to do darling," Lisa said dismissively. "David, what most
people think about what you do doesn't matter that much. As for the rest
of them, they don't matter at all."
"I wish I could be that self-confident," I said. "I care too much about
what people think of me."
"I know you do darling," Lisa said softly. She brushed my cheek with her
hand as she added. "I think that is why I fell in love with you. You do
care. You care a lot. And you care so much that you're always trying to
please people."
"Well I don't what people to think badly of me," I reasoned.
"People will only think badly of you if you behave badly toward them,"
Lisa said. "But some people only see somebody as caring as you as a
doormat. Somebody they can take advantage of."
I didn't say much after that for quite some time. But I did think about
it. However, there was something else I was thinking about also. It was
something Molly had said and I had to ask.
"Lisa, Molly said something to me that I didn't really understand," I
said slowly. "Molly said you were a 'top.' What did she mean?"
Lisa sighed and stroked my thigh again. "Ah you're so sweet at times
David," she said. "Well, how should I put this. You see sweetheart there
are three types of people in the world. There are tops, people who are
dominant, assertive and know exactly what they want. Both in the bedroom
and in life in general. Then there are the straights. Boring farts that
never have sex with the light on and who are strictly vanilla. And then
there are bottoms," Lisa smiled as she squeezed my thigh. "And that's
you darling. You hand over your control to your top, that's me, and I
make the decisions for the both of us. But being a bottom also means
that you must do as your top says. And, when the top tells you to, you
must serve them as and how they want to be served."
"You mean for sex, yes," I said meekly.
"For sex, and for everything in fact," Lisa said with her usually self-
confidence. "Why do you ask?"
I shrugged. "It was when Molly caught me looking at one of the French
Maids dresses. I said I thought you would look lovely in it. And Molly
just giggled, sort of, and said you were a top," As I spoke, I glanced
over at Lisa and saw she was grinning.
"You liked the French Maids dress, did you sweetheart?" Lisa smiled. "I
Kind of hoped that you would. So, do you think we should get you one? I
bet you'd look so cute in it."
"Get me one?" I gasped out loud, nearly running the car off the road.
"Your kidding, right. Dresses are for girls. Well, girls and sissies, I
suppose."
"And, your point is?"
"What? My point? My point is that only some sissy would wear a dress."
"O my," Lisa said softly as she looked out of the side window. "Such
indignation from a man in pretty panties."
"That's different," I snapped.
"Different? Different how?"
"Well you know," I stammered. "I'm only wearing them because I forgot
mine. And anyway, you made me wear them."
"How silly of me to forget," Lisa said in mocking tone. "I clear forgot
holding you at gunpoint while you put them on."
"Alright."
"No. Not alright," Lisa said firmly. "And besides. What is wrong in
wearing something sexy. In fact, what is wrong with me wanting you to
wear something sexy. It might be a turn on for me. Did you even stop to
think about that? And what's the harm in it? What if I did want you to
wear something like that, the maid uniform I mean, and I might, how
would that be wrong? I mean, let's face it darling, you've been wearing
panties all day and, to be honest, I haven't been able to stop thinking
about how cute you looked in them. And it's not like they could have any
ill effects on you. You haven't had to be rushed off to the hospital,
have you? No. And you're feeling ok, yes. Your cock hasn't suddenly
dropped off and your balls haven't shriveled up and rolled down your
trouser leg?
"Now you're just making fun of me," I protested meekly.
"Yes, I am," she agreed. "And you deserve it. Look David Darling, I told
you last night I want us to have a female lead relationship. And, you
agreed to that. So, if I want to see you dressed in skirts, then you
will dress in skirts. Look, it's a lot for to process all at once, but
that's just the way it is. And, I told you I would never hurt you. I
stand by that. But dressing you in nice things isn't hurting you is it?
Besides, you promised that you would do everything you could to please
me. Maybe seeing you in nice things would please me more than you
realize.
I didn't have a chance to reply to that as we had arrived home by then.
So, we emptied the boot and carried everything inside. We left the bags
in the kitchen as Lisa asked me to go upstairs with her. But it wasn't
to have sex. Instead, Lisa said as how I had been in that infernal
chastity cage for nearly twenty-four hours, and as I was new to it, she
had to check that everything was ok down there.
Lisa sat on the end of the bed and I strip off all my clothes. I was
left standing in front of her, as naked as the day I came into the
world, except for the plastic prison locked tightly around my manhood.
She took hold of the cock tube, lifted it up, turned it this way and
then that. She held my balls, gently rolling them in her hand as she
examined them.
To begin with, it was so embarrassing, making me feel like a prized
heifer at a country show. Then, as Lisa examined me more closely, and
her tender fingers touching me everywhere, caressing me almost, I slowly
began to get aroused. I felt my penis begin to grow inside of its tube
and felt the tightness of the tube as it seemed to pinch in on my cock.
My shaft grew longer, forcing the tube away from my body and dragging my
scrotum forward with it as the locking ring pulled tightly around my
balls.
"Everything looks ok," Lisa said, smiling up at me.
God, she knew exactly how to be a maddening tease. She had just been
lovingly handling my caged cock, caressing it so very tenderly that she
had given me an increasingly painful erection. Then, as she was telling
me it was ok she was lightly stroking my thighs which she knows I can't
resist.
"O my," Lisa said in feigned innocence. "I do believe somebody wants to
play."
Lisa gently took hold of my imprisoned penis. The tip of my gland was
trying to force its way out of the small slit in the end of the cock
cage, but only the very most sensitive tip of my gland could push its
way through. Lisa saw this and, while holding the cock cage firmly, she
flicked her thumb over the tip of my manhood.
I felt a shudder ripple through my body. My breathing was quickly
becoming ragged as I trembled at her touch.
She kissed the tip of the cage, her lips brushing lightly over the
tiniest exposed part of my manhood. But her kiss was not a prelude of
things to come, rather an ending to what, ever so briefly, had been.
Lisa released my cock and stood up. She went to walk out of the bedroom,
leaving me with a painful erection, but she turned bad and I saw her
crooked little smile again. I was learning quickly what that meant.
"You know sweetheart," Lisa said slowly, seductively. "I really would
love us to play together right now. But there are things to do and I
would like you to cook one of your wonderful dinners. So, I was
thinking, how would you like it if we could play, and still do the other
things?"
"I'd like that," I replied. "Anything you like is alright by me."
"Anything I like," she echoed my words thoughtfully as a soft smile came
to her lips. "I like what you said, anything I like. Alright then. You
get ready for the kitchen and I will go and get something to play with."
Lisa left the room for only a minute but, when she returned, she just
looked at me, tutted, and shook her head. I saw she was carrying the gym
bag in her hand as she walked toward me saying, "I thought you could
have remembered from this morning David darling. Pantie and an apron
only. So why are you putting your jeans on?"
"But it's only three o'clock."
Lisa dropped the bag on the bed and folded her arms as she looked
directly into my eyes. "I think I was five when I mastered the mystical
art of reading a clock. I know what the time is. I didn't know there was
a time when you decided what to wear and when. But I did hear you
correctly before. "Anything I like", that was what you said wasn't it?"
"Yes," I said timidly, reluctantly removing my jeans and standing before
her in only my lacy red panties.
"Much better," Lisa grinned. "Now sit on the end of the bed while I get
you ready."
I did as she asked and nervously watched as Lisa knelt down and opened
the gym bag. She selected two sets of leather cuffs. The first, about
four inches deep and with two buckles to close them, she fastened around
my ankles. The second set was three inches deep and with only one
buckle. Lisa fastened the ankle cuffs so that the buckles were on the
outside of my ankles. But I also noticed that the prongs of the buckles
were oddly shaped. They were not pointed, as was usual, but rather
rounded, with a small hole in them. I soon discovered why this was when
Lisa produced several small padlocks that she used to lock the buckles
closed. From the gym bag she produced some chain, rather three chains
joined together to form a large capital letter "I". Four more padlocks
were used to lock the chains to my cuffs.
I was left with my ankles chained about twelve inches apart and my
wrists about eight inches. Also, the connecting chain between them meant
I could only raise my hand to just about chest height.
Lisa had me stand up so she could fasten the apron around my waist. She
turned me around, then turned me back again.
"I do love how cute your bum looks in panties sweetheart," Lisa smiled
at me. "Call me kinky, call me a pervert, if you want. But it is cute,"
She paused for a moment, looking more serious, as she thought about
something. Looking down at the bag again, then back at me, she asked,
"I'm not sure darling. What do you think? With a gag or without a gag,"
So, saying, she picked the ball gag out of the bag and held it up before
me.
"No, that's too much. I'm not wearing some stupid bloody gag."
"That's decided then," Lisa said, her crooked smile returning.
"Lisa no," I protested firmly. "A game's a game but this is getting out
of hand. I'm not wearing a gag."
"Think you can stop me putting it on you," she grinned. "I like a
challenge."
Without warning, Lisa lunged at me. I went to fend her off but, the
chains prevented me from raising my hands. Next thing I knew she had
sidestepped me, grabbed hold of me as she swept my legs out from under
me. One second, I was stood up, the next I was flat on my back on the
bed. I attempted to twist away but somehow, I don't know how, Lisa had
flipped me on my stomach, trapping my hand beneath me, and she jumped on
my back.
In one very brief moment, Lisa was sitting on my back, her whole body
pinning me to the bed as she grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. I
shouted a protest but, seeing the red rubber gag flash in front of my
eyes, I instantly clamped my mouth shut. Lisa held the gag to my mouth,
pressing it firmly against my lips as she used my chin to hold my head
up. She let go of my hair but only so she could use that hand to pinch
my nose closed.
I couldn't breathe. I struggled, tried desperately to turn my head to
get away, but it was useless. In a very short time, I had to breathe
and, as I opened my mouth to take a breath. Lisa quickly forced the gag
between my teeth. In short order, Lisa had the straps of the gag buckled
tight and a padlock, locking the buckle closed.
The gag felt awful, and tasted worse. It was so large that Lisa really
had to force it in and, after she had, my mouth seemed to snap tightly
closed around it. It was wedged behind my teeth and, even without the
locked strap holding it in, I would have difficulty getting the thing
out again.
I tried to shout a protest, not that it would have done me any good, but
all that came out of my mouth was a loud stream of incoherent nonsense.
While shouting, or at least trying to shout, I summoned all the strength
I had jerked my body upwards. I almost managed to buck Lisa off my back:
almost.
While I couldn't see her face, I could imagine how angry she must have
been with my struggling from the tone of her voice as she to behave.
Several times Lisa told me was not letting me up until I had calmed
down. But I didn't calm down: I was too angry for that.
The next thing I felt was Lisa place one hand between my shoulder
blades, her other hand in the small of my back. There was a sudden
pressure at both points as Lisa lifted herself swiftly, spun around, and
landed back on me but this time facing my feet. She positioned herself
astride my back. Her bottom high on my shoulders and her legs trapping
my upper arms against my body. My hands were already trapped uselessly
under my stomach so there was nothing I could do, other than becoming
even more enraged, as Lisa took hold of the waistband of the panties I
had on, and slip them down.
There was a sharp stinging in my left buttock, rapidly followed by
another in the right. It was so surprising and happened with such
swiftness that my mind didn't even register the sound of the smacks.
Eventually, my brain caught up the reality and I went wild. I was angry
and being cuffed and chained. I was angry at being gagged. I was very
angry about being spanked. But most of all, above everything else, I was
angry at allowing myself to overpowered so quickly and so totally. Lisa
and I are the same height, and we were about the same eight, with me
carrying a few extra pounds at the time. But I was just plain furious
that I had let her make me so helpless so swiftly. Spurred on by my
rage, my body began heaving with every ounce strength I could muster. I
imagined myself as a wild mustang bucking violently to throw its rider.
Sadly, my efforts were more akin to a landed fish flapping uselessly in
the bottom of a boat.
Lisa proceeded to spank me. Sitting astride my back as she repeatedly
smacked my exposed rear. Between each smack Lisa told me to, either do
as I was told or, after more smacks, punishment would quickly follow.
By then I was really mad. The last time I had been spanked was by my
mother when I was five or six years old. I did much like it then and,
the intervening years had not changed my attitude.
How many time Lisa spanked me I don't rightly know. What I do know,
however, was that all the fight seemed to drain from me. My body went
limp and, I have to admit, I was crying. My buttock felt as if someone
had blowtorched them and I was pleading for Lisa to stop.
When she did, finally, she climbed off my back, stood up next to the
bed, and told me to get up. I did, but very slowly and gingerly as my
bottom was throbbing and sore beyond belief.
"Don't ever say 'no' to me again," Lisa snapped. "Do you understand?"
All I could do was nod my head meekly as I stood before her like an
errant child brought to book. I couldn't even bring myself to look at
her, I felt so thoroughly humiliated.
"As we understand each other," Lisa said. "You had better get that sweet
arse of yours into the kitchen and get cracking."
The only thing I could do was turn around and hobble my way out of the
bedroom and down to the kitchen. I do recall afterward thinking how
pathetic I must have looked, taking tiny steps on account of the chain
between my ankles, and trying to pull the panties up. A task made all
the more difficult with my wrists chained. And thinking about it, those
panties might have been all lacy and feminine but, at the time, they
felt so comforting. At the very least they hid some of the redness of my
buttocks, even if it did sting pulling them up over my abused rear.
Once in the kitchen, I tried to clean my face up a bit. But I had to
lower my face to the tissues in my hands just to wipe my eyes. I got on
with putting the groceries away, something I realized was going to take
some time with my hands and ankles restrained. Several times I tripped
and nearly fell as my stride was checked by the short hobble between my
ankles. And several times I dropped things as my hands were pulled up
short by the chain holding them down. And all I got from Lisa were
comments of, "Do be careful" or "You better not be breaking anything in
there." It like pouring fuel on a fire.
The more difficult my task was, the angrier I got, and the angrier I got
the more difficult the task became. Then to have somebody tell you to be
careful when in truth I could have happily bounced a tin of peas off
their head, or would have if I had been able to raise my hands high
enough to throw.
There I was, chained up, locked up, and very effectively gagged. So, I
made my protest known in the only way I could. Every cupboard was
allowed to slam shut. I didn't place a pan on the stove top, I tossed it
on there. I didn't put things in the sink, I dropped them from as high
as I could get my hands.
Upon reflection, I began to behave like a petulant child after being
caught. They had, I had, been punished and, unable to do anything about
the punishment, they go banging and crashing about the house.
Several times while this little melodrama was taking place I saw Lisa
out of the corner of my eye. I still couldn't bring myself to look at
her but, I did see her standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her arms
folded across her chest as she watched my smoldering tantrum. But she
never said anything. She would just come to the doorway, look at me for
a short while, then walk away.
After over an hour of this, Lisa finally came into the kitchen. She
walked over to me, asking me to stop what I was doing, and to look at
her.
I really didn't feel like looking at her just then. After what she had
done to me I really didn't feel very much. When I did finally look up
her I must have been glowering hatefully. And Lisa seemed to take a step
back, physically shaken by my stare.
For several long moments she didn't say anything and when she did, her
voice was unsteady, crackling in her throat as she spoke.
"David sweetheart," she began hesitantly. "I need you to understand
something. I really wanted us to play together. But while we might play,
for me it's not a game. This is the life I want, no, it's the life I
need. Molly was telling you the truth when she said I was a top. And if
a man is to be with me then he has to understand he must willing and
totally commit to being the bottom. He has to give himself absolutely,
over into my control. He would be a slave, my slave, in other words.
When we were getting to know each other, I thought you might be the one.
I really thought you would love me enough to be willing to give yourself
to me in the way I need somebody to give themselves. That's why I left
the bag for you to find. I didn't just forget about it. I left so I
could see your reaction. And, sorry David, but you didn't forget your
underwear. I took it out and hid it while you were working. I know I
shouldn't have been underhanded about it, but I had to find out if you
were the one, the one willing to give himself totally to me. I guess I
wrong. I'm truly sorry David, truly sorry.
After saying all of that Lisa stepped closer and kissed me on the cheek.
As she stepped back she dropped a small bunch of keys on the kitchen
table.
"I guess you just weren't the man I thought you were," she sighed
regretfully, and left.
I watched Lisa leave, turning her back on me as she walked out of the
door. My eyes then turned to the bunch of keys on the table. Quickly
hobbling over to them I snatched them up, flipping one then another
between my fingers as I tested each key in turn on the padlock holding
my wrist cuff closed. I must have tried four or five keys before I
eventually found the right one and the padlock sprang open. Only then
did I realize what Lisa had really just said. And, with the padlock
hanging loose in the buckle I stared at the empty doorway.
"Had Lisa just broken up with me?"
Hortense
- 03.07.2022
- 9
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