My New Life 8 free porn video

My New Life, 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. My New Life (and how I came to accept it). Part 8 On Thursday, Lisa, my mistress, goddess, was due to arrive at 6 pm. I stopped working on the translation at 4 pm and began to get ready for her arrival. Stepping out of the short, blue denim skirt that I now wore around the house while working, I sat on the end of my bed and unclipped my stockings. I hadn't always been into crossdressing, it was something that Lisa had asked me to do for her. And, while I had felt foolish and embarrassed to begin with, it was something that I was then embracing. My friend Elaine had helped there. I was horrified when she had discovered my secret but, although shocked at first, Elaine quickly encouraged me to accept it. She had even been such a great friend to go shopping with me to get the things Lisa had ordered me to purchase. After taking a shower, where I shaved face extra close, as well as my underarms and the pubic area around my chastity cage, I dried myself off on a big fluffy towel. And I have to admit that even the feeling of a soft towel against my now perfectly hairless skin felt wonderful. In the past I would never have thought that such a simple thing could feel so good but, now that Lisa had instructed me to stay hairless at all times, I realized what a delightful sensation I had been missing out on all my life. Sitting on the edge of the bath I opened the bottle of moisturizer and squeezed a blob into my hand. This was another delight I had been missing out on before, the cool feel as the cream is first spread over your naked skin. Followed by the amazing sensation as your hands glide effortlessly over smooth flesh and work the cream in. Lisa had told me to buy this cream, it was her favorite. And I loved also. There was a smell of Mangos to the cream. Not a really strong smell, nothing overpowering. But a lovely soft, fruity smell that was most appealing. I also loved that, with my skin moisturized, my flesh would tingle and, if it were possible, felt even more sensitive than before. Back in the bedroom, I had already laid out the clothes I would be wearing for Lisa arrival. I had selected the beautiful silver-grey waist-nipper and matching panties. The waist-nipper looked so alluring with a shine to the material and a tantalizing covering of black lace. It looked so soft and fragile but, the heavy boning and strong lacing at the rear said otherwise. I had never worn such a garment before but I was sure that, when Lisa saw it, she would whole-heartedly approve. I just hoped that I could remember how I was supposed to put it on. I dropped my towel on the bed and stepped into the full cut silver-grey panties that matched the nipper. There was a black lace panel at each side that mirrored the lace on the waist-nipper. The panties slipped effortlessly up my lustrously smooth legs and sent a shiver of excitement through my body. I picked up the waist-nipper and, after checking that the lacing was loose, I wrapped it around my waist. There were five steel clasps at the front and, breathing in, I was able to clip the clasps into place. After pulling the nipper up slightly, so that the waist of the garment was aligned with my waist, I took hold of the lacing as I had been told. Sucking in my stomach as much as I could, I pulled on the lacing and felt the nipper begin to contract around me. Several times the lacing slipped and all my efforts seemed to be for nothing. Finally, I figured out what I was doing wrong. I was supposed to sort of cross the lacing as I pulled my waist in. that way the lacing was almost locked against itself until you could either pull it in some more or tie it off. Pulling on the lacing three times I was certainly feeling the constriction of the waist-nipper. I held the lacing firmly in my right hand and checked myself in the mirror. There was definitely a waistline being formed by the nipper. Not a woman's waistline, not the classic wasp-waist, but a clear waistline all the same. Turning with my back to the mirror I could see that there was still a good inch and a half gap between the sides of the nipper. Well if women can take it, I thought looking at the gap, I was sure that I could. With my back to the mirror I took hold of the lacing in both hands and, pulling as hard as I could while pushing my arms outward, I felt the nipper pull even tighter around my waist. Again, I looked over my shoulder at my reflection in the mirror. There was still a small gap, but my waist now had a very distinctive appearance. A distinctive female appearance. I did the first knot at the rear of my waist then, turning to face the mirror and feeling very proud of myself for being able to pull myself in by what must have been three or four inches. The excess lacing was quickly wrapped around my new waistline a couple of times before being tied off at the rear. I was unable to resist the temptation to put my hands on my new hips and, smiling broadly at my reflection, I tilted my hips side to side. The waist-nipper was tight, very tight, but it felt magnificent. The stocking came next, and the lady at the store had selected them to match my waist-nipper. They were gunmetal grey with a tiny hint of silver in the dark seams and around the lace tops. Taking the first stocking in my fingertips I rolled it down into a doughnut shape and, so very carefully, slipped it over my toes before smoothing it up my leg. The stockings were a silk/lycra mix, super smooth and glossy. As the first stocking glided up my naked flesh I felt every pore of my skin tingle. It was like an electric charge dancing on my skin as it went up my leg, stirred in my loins before racing to my brain. A tiny sigh escaped from between my lips as I delighted in the caress of the stocking against my skin. I had never worn this type of stocking before but, after feeling how they made my legs feel at that moment, I knew that I would be buying more of them. Yes, they cast a bit more than everyday nylons, but they felt sensational. Standing up I tucked the six suspender straps through the waistband of my pantie. In the mirror, I could see that the seems were slightly out of line so, carefully lowering the stocking one at a time, I drew them back up until the seems were perfect in the center of my legs. On a whim, I went up on my toes, checking out my own bum and legs again. But then I didn't have to just stand on my toes anymore, Elaine had helped me pick out a beautiful pair of black, high heeled court shoes. Sitting down on the bed for a moment I slipped the shoes on. Even while still seated the very act of putting on my new shoes made my legs feel totally different. No longer were my feet flat to the floor, now my legs felt much longer, and only my toes seemed to be touching. Standing up cautiously I walked slowly back to the mirror. When I bought the shoes, Elaine had told me to practice as much as I could in them. She had told me that if I really wanted to look my best for my mistress, (her word not mine) then I should practice, practice, practice. "Nothing gives the game away quicker that it's a man in drag than if he can't walk in heels," Elaine had jokingly told me. What she didn't tell me was how damn painful it was to learn to walk in high heels. And I am not talking niggling aches here. My first time in high heel was an ankle-breaking, tendon-snapping, sinew-stretching nightmare that left me feeling as if I would be crippled for life. And yes, I agree, men are wimps when it comes to high heels. Sure, we love the look of them on a woman, but learning to wear them and walk in them is a whole different subject. Despite the pain from crushed toes, and the fear of turning over an ankle and breaking it, I pushed myself to walk in the things. The first day was just learning to get around without falling. After which I allowed myself the well-earned reward of sitting with my tortured feet in a bowl of hot water while I watched TV. The second day was spent learning to walk correctly and not clumping around in my high heel like some disastrous drag act. And, after another day of torture, I was beginning to get the hang of walking with one heel directly in front of the other. Men walk with their feet splayed, toes pointed outwards and heel shoulder-width apart. And it looks anything but lady-like. But when a woman walks, and especially in high heels, she keeps her heels inline and uses her hips to take up the difference in the length of her stride. That's part of the reason why a woman rolls her hips as she walks. And it was odd, even though I was a man. I was also a man that, until very recently had never even thought about wearing women's clothes and shoes. But if I was going to be dressing up for my goddess, then I was going to do it right. That meant thinking about what I should be doing, thinking about how my body should be held and moved. Then practicing until my body moved as my brain told it to. Up until I had met Lisa, and she had put me into women's clothing, I would never have thought about moving in such a way that I was more ladylike. Yet now, after buying all those things, the lingerie, the dresses, and the shoes, I genuinely wanted to be as ladylike as possible. Of course, there was an ulterior motive behind all of my efforts. I wanted to make love to Lisa at the weekend, and all weekend. And I was sure that if I could impress her with all my hard work, I was bound to get my reward. Trying my best not to get too narcissistic as I admired how shapely my bottom was with heels on, I went back to the bed and picked up the stretchy black tube dress Elaine had helped me pick. It was a simple Jersey dress but stretchy so I knew it would show off my new shapely waistline to it's best effect. The top looked more like a t-shirt with three-quarter sleeves and rounded neckline, but the lower part would cling to my hips and tights and it was just long enough to cover my stocking tops even when I bent over. I had thought about getting a really short dress. But Elaine had advised that it would look tarty. "If you are going to dress like a woman, then dress like a woman and not a slag," Elain had hissed in my ear at the dress shop. She was right of course and, as I slipped the dress over my head and shimmied it down over my nipped in waist and past my now shapelier bottom, I could see in the mirror what a wonderful pleasing profile it gave me. I smoothed the dress down my thighs, double checking that the dress was smooth over my bottom and stocking tops. I took hold of the hem, tugging it down a little then smoothed out the front. If I say so myself, ignoring my lack of breasts or idea anything womanly above the waist, my lower half looked very feminine. Several times I turned around to admire myself in the mirror, then turned several times more. In the end, I had to drag myself away from the temptation caused by my reflection. There were still things to do before Lisa arrived and time was already pressing. Walking downstairs was still a problem for me but, once on an even surface again, I walked quickly to the kitchen to check on dinner. After that, I made one last inspection of the ground floor. I had spent most of the morning cleaning up and doing my ironing and such like. I just wanted to make sure everything was perfect for Lisa's visit. Once again, I felt a small stirring in my chastity cage. I knew what it was, what was causing it. It was the sound of my own heels clicking on the wooden floor as I walked around my house. I had always loved that sound, that rhythmic click, click, click of a woman in heels. Something about it had always stirred me. But now it was me making that sound, it was my heels clicking with every step, and yet I still couldn't help but become turned on by the sound. I went around the living room, inspecting every surface for dust and happily found none. I went from chair to sofa and then on to the other chair as I picked up the cushions, fluffed them and picked off some imaginer lint before placing them back in their places. In fact, I went around doing all sorts of unnecessary things just so I could practice in my high heels. The truth was, I was honestly beginning to enjoy the feel of walking in heels. And more than that, I loved the way the suspenders tugged on my stocking and brushed against my thigh with every step I took. And now with the added thrill of a tight skirt over my bottom and gently pressing my legs together, I felt like I was in heaven. There was only one thing that could make it feel better. And that was if Lisa was pleased with all my efforts. Then she could take her chastity cage off me and we could make love. I was in the kitchen checking on dinner again when I heard a soft knocking at the door. I looked over at the clock, it was six twenty. Lisa was late, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was here. Tossing aside the oven clothe I had been using I walked quickly to the front door, my heels clicking noisily as I made my way to greet my goddess. I didn't even check to see if it was one of the neighbors I just swung the door open. "Hello Lisa," I said, beaming a big smile at her. "Sorry I am a little late sweetheart. The traffic was..." She didn't finish. Rather Lisa stopped, her mouth fell open for a second, then she stepped back a pace as she looked me up and down. "Well look at you darling. You really have been putting your time to good use." She stepped in and. After dropping her bag, reached out and took hold of my hands. Lisa held my hand up and out from my body as she again looked me over. "Oh darling, you look lovely. And look at that waist. Turn around for me, that a good girl." And I did. I turned around on the spot for her, radiating from her praise of my efforts while ignoring that she was again calling me a girl. "I knew that you would have a nice bum with a pair of heels," Lisa said as she cupped my buttocks with her hands. Lisa stopped me from turning any further. I had my back to her and I jumped a little as she pinched my buttock. Then she stepped in behind me. Her left arm going around my waist to hold me close to her right hand reached down and began stroking my thigh. At the same time her head came up behind mine and she rested her cheek on my shoulder as her lips nuzzled my neck and earlobe. God, I loved this woman, I thought as she kissed my neck. My legs felt unexpectedly weak, my head was spinning and my breath quickening. I was swooning like a schoolgirl under her touch, and I loved it. "Has my girlfriend missed me," Lisa whispered in my ear between kisses. Her breathe was hot, aroused and energized. Her arms were holding me tightly while at the same moment exploring my body through the thin fabric of my dress. I was breathing heavily, drawing in the sweet smell of her breath and fragrance of her perfume. My knees weakened as she pressed her hand between my legs, stroking her fingers up and down my inner thighs before unexpectedly grabbing hold of my chastity cage. I nearly collapsed when she did that and an involuntary groan escaped past my lips. Her hand was still holding my chastity cage as her fingers gently squeezed my yearning balls. "I bet somebody's missed me," Lisa tease as she again cupped my caged manhood. I was lost between pleasure and frustration. I felt weak and helpless in her ar Her breath on my neck and earlobe was driving me into a world of blissful torment and I didn't want it to stop. "Please Mistress. May I kiss you?" I begged breathlessly. She released her hold on me, allowing me to turn towards her. But as I did Lisa swiftly brought her hands up and held my face. With one hand on each of my cheeks, she pulled my head to her and placed her lips firmly against mine. I felt the pressure of her kiss increasing. Her tongue darted out and into my mouth. She pushed me back against the wall, pinning my body with her own as the passion of her kiss became feverish. Her right legs pressed between mine and she began rubbing her crotch against my thigh. At first, it was just a gentle motion but, as her hands were taking from my cheeks, she reached down and took hold of my hand, her fingers lacing themselves between mine as she gripped them tightly. In one rapid motion, Lisa clasped my hands vigorously and forced my arms over my head. She pinned my hands there as she began thrusting her sex against my legs. All the time her mouth was squashed against mine, her lips crushing mine as her tongue forced its way into my mouth and toyed with my tongue. "Did you miss me my darling little Dee?" Lisa asked, her tone demanding an answer. "Yes mistress," I gasped between the endless assaults on my mouth by hers. "Have you been a good girl for me Dee?" "Yes, mistress." "And you're going to be a good girl for me this weekend? Aren't you?" "Yes, mistress." "Are you going to thank me for letting you buy such pretty things, aren't you?" "Yes, mistress." "And you're going to model them for me, aren't you?" "Yes, mistress." "Going to show me what a pretty girl you can be for me, aren't you?" Her sex began pressing harder against my thigh with each question. "You want to be pretty for me, don't you Dee?" "Yes, mistress." "Tell me then." "I want to look pretty for you mistress." "Tell me again what you want Dee." "I want to be my mistress" pretty girlfriend." "Mmm, I know you do my darling Dee." She changed her handhold on me, pressing my palms together and lacing my fingers in such a way that she could hold them helpless with just one hand. Her free hand then went directly to my waist. "That feels tight darling. Is it?" "Yes, mistress." "It feels really tight. Why did you make it so tight Dee? Tell me." "I wanted to look pretty for you mistress." "And you will always look pretty for me, won't you sweetheart?" "Yes, mistress." "Tell what you will do." "I will always look pretty for you mistress. Always." Lisa let out a long, low moan. Her body stiffened then began to tremble. Her breathing was ragged and, just for a few seconds, her grip on me slackened. But as quickly as her strength ebbed away, it returned with renewed vigor. Her lips pressed to mine again and her tongue once more began to dance between our mouths. I felt her free hand slip down my thigh before it went under my skirt. In second Lisa had my cage manhood in her hand as she commenced to toy with it. "Have you been a good girl for me Dee?" Lisa asked huskily. "Yes, mistress." "Tell the truth now Dee. I can't have my girlfriend lie to me. Have you been a good girl? Or did you try and get it off." For a long moment, I was silent. I swallowed hard and my legs began to tremble. "I'm sorry mistress but I did try to get it off once." "Just the once Dee?" Lisa said, pulling her head back so she could look me directly in the eyes. "Be honest now Dee." "Yes mistress, it was just the once. Honestly. I tried but couldn't get it off. It's too tight." "I know it's tight sweetheart," Lisa smiled wickedly. "And now you know why it is tight." She again began pressing her crotch against my thigh as she rubbed herself against me. "But it was very naughty of you to try Dee." "Sorry mistress. I won't do it again." "Maybe, maybe not," Lisa said with a singsong tone as she thrust her sex against my thigh. "I won't mistress. I promise." "But you promised before Dee. And then you were very naughty and tried to take back your gift to me." Lisa groaned as her body trembled against me. "And what happens, what happens Dee, to naught, girl. To, ah, very, mmmm naughty girls, mmmmmm." Her whole body went tense. She was breathless and drawn tighter than a bowstring. The thrusting of her hips became sporadic, sometimes several in quick succession, other times just long slow strokes as she began groaning constantly. "Tell me what happens to naughty girl Dee," Lisa demanded anxiously. "They get punished, mistress." "Yes Dee, yes, yes, yes." My words must have been the trigger Lisa was waiting for. She reached her climax almost as soon as I said them. Her grip on my fingers became so tight it was painful. Her hand went from under my skirt to around my waist where she clasped her shaking body hard into mine. Her hips went into spasm, giving several rapid thrusts accompanied by loud satisfied moans, then slow gentle rubbing as she cooed softly before the rapid thrusting started again. Lisa was spent. She let go of her hold on me and nearly fell to the floor as she did. I had to support her by the arm as we walked into the living room. She was still panting softly as she sat down on the sofa, and she had that glow she always got after her orgasm. She slumped back on the sofa, her eyes half closed and a satisfied smile playing on her lips. Her hand reached out towards me as she looked up. "Come here sweetheart and sit with me for a little while. I need a cuddle after that." I happily complied with her request, placing one arm around her neck while my other went around her waist. "Mmmm. That feels nice Dee darling," Lisa cooed blissfully. Then she looked up at me with a wick little grin on her face. "But remind me to never drive with jingling balls inside myself again." "You never did? Did you?" I asked jokingly. Lisa gave a wiggle of her hips and moaned softly as she did. Later, after Lisa had pulled herself together, she went upstairs to, shall we say, extract those frustrating balls. I was in the kitchen when she came back down. She walked up behind me and, running her hand over my bottom again, said. "Something smells nice." "Thank you mistress," I blushed. "It's just that moisturizer you told me to get." Lisa snacked my bum playfully. "No silly, I meant the food." "Oh that," I giggled. "My slow-cooked savory beef rib. Didn't I make this for you once before Ms. Lisa." "No. I don't think so," Lisa said, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind as she nuzzled into my neck again. "Oh well. It must have been for one of my other mistresses," I said teasing her. Lisa's arms tightened around my waist as she bit on my earlobe till I yelped for her to stop. Still holding my earlobe between her teeth, she said. "There better not be another mistress. You're my girlfriend, my slave, and don't you forget it. Clear." "All right, pax, I give," I said jokingly. Lisa released her grip around my waist and spun me round to face her. With very little effort on her part, she pushed me backward till I was pinning against the countertop. Her arm came up and wrapped around my neck as she looked deep into my eyes. "I know you have given yourself to me as my slave, and I love you for that. And I know that me wanting you as my girlfriend is hard for you to get used to. But that you are willing to try only makes me love you more Dee." We kissed. Not a heated, passionate kiss. A long, slow, tender kiss. A kiss where you felt as if you were melting into the other person. A kiss that you never wanted to end and were it felt so complete and satisfying that it said more than any words could of how deeply two people loved each other. It was the sound of the rice steamer buzzing that brought an end to that kiss. Neither of us wanted the kiss to end but, fearing that dinner might be spoilt, I forced myself to break away for Lisa's kiss. "That's dinner ready Ms. Lisa," I said softly. "I know," Lisa replied and began kissing me again. "Why don't you take a seat at the table and I'll bring you a glass of wine," I said, coming up for air again. Eventually, Lisa released me from her embrace and went through to the dining room while I got on with the dinner. I had already opened a bottle of red wine, which was breathing while I cooked dinner. I poured Lisa a glass and carried it into the dining room for her. "Dee," Lisa said slowly, taking the wine from me. "I never said how nice you look." "Thank you, mistress," I smiled, my cheeks reddening slightly as I did. "No, I really mean it, sweetheart," she said, returning my smile. "And just look at your waist. I know you've got something on, a corset maybe?" "No it's a waist-nipper mistress," I corrected her. "I know," she said between sips of wine. "I felt it when I put my arms around you. It feels very tight darling. But the effect is just lovely. And look at your shoes. I am surprised you have learned to walk in them so well so soon." "I have been practicing every day mistress," I said. "They were not easy to get the hang of but I guess I just have to keep practicing." "Dee darling. You can drop the mistress for tonight," Lisa said. "Tonight I just want you to be my girlfriend all right." "All right mist,,, I mean all right Lisa." "That's better. Tonight, we can be just girlfriends and you can show me all you nice girly thing. Deal?" Lisa said with a beaming grin on her face. "Deal," I said. "Now I have to get the dinner out or it will be ruined." As I turned and walked back into the kitchen I heard Lisa give a wolf- whistle. "And look at that sexy bum. Work it girl." "Hey cheeky," I admonished Lisa. But then I could not resist the temptation of walking away from her with the most exaggerated swinging of my hips that I could manage which made my high heel click noisily on the tiled floor. Lisa sat at the dining room table, drinking her wine and watching me. Every now and then she would offer some advice on the way I moved or my mannerisms. She, of course, was correct in the things she told me, as I still moved very much like a man in drag. Women don't just bend over if they drop something on the floor. And they sure as hell don't plant their feet a should width apart as they do so. No, women stand feet together, bent their knee and squat down. They also use their free hand to hold their skirt under their bottoms so that no one can see up their skirt. Women don't bend over when setting the table, they stand side on and do a little bob as they place the plate down. They don't stand with their legs apart and when they sit they keep their knees together and cross their legs at the ankle. And these are just a few of a hundred or more things that women do, and that I was doing wrong. Don't misunderstand, Lisa wasn't criticizing me to be picky, she just wanted me to look better. She often complimented me on the things I did correctly. And she many times complimented me my selection of dress to wear, my much-improved body shape, and my feminine manner. Lisa especially liked my stockings, saying how she loved the way the hint of silver in the seams, caught the light as I moved. I would never have thought it but, being complimented on looking and acting more feminine might have upset me in the past, but hearing those things from Lisa, in a way, it made me feel proud of myself. Perhaps Lisa had been right, perhaps I was a real submissive and she knew it long before I did. What do know was that I liked having a hairless body and the feel of lingerie caressing it. I like the feel of a tight skirt around my legs and the way it pulled snug around my emphasized bottom. I loved the feel of silk stockings on my legs and the way the suspenders tugged as I walked. And I was positively radiating joy when Lisa complimented my choice of heels and how quickly I had mastered walking in them. I carried the serving bowls of savory beef ribs and rice through to the dining room and set them on the table, remembering to do that little bob, a very slight bend of the knees, as I positioned them. After taking my seat I offered Lisa more wine. At first, she didn't take any, rather she sat, her chin resting on her hand, as she stared at me. It was one her looks, a deep, meaningful stares where you could just about make out the sounds of the cogs turning in her head. "You know Dee," she began finally. "I am so happy seeing all the effort you have put in." "I just wanted to please you Mis,,, I mean Lisa." "I know you did, and you have," she went on. "I can't get over how good your body looks and, that cute behind of yours is a knockout. And you really went all out with those shoes, they make your legs look so good that I am envious. But, I have told you many times, I want you to be my male-girlfriend." "I am trying Lisa," I protested weakly. I was really disappointed. Everything I had done that week, I thought, had been a waste. But Lisa soon reassured me that was not the case. "Dee sweetheart, you have made a fantastic effort. And you look sensational," she said enthusiastically. "But you know what would make you look even better." I shook my head without speaking. "I think you look a hundred percent better if you had breast and some makeup on," she said. "You know every time I look at you I realize how nice your face is. You've got lovely eyes and a good shape to your brows. Mind you they could do with a little extra shaping. You've got a small nose. Which is lucky as a lot of guys have big noses and they take much more to hide them with makeup. And your cheekbones are like a girl's. And I mean that as a compliment." "I don't know Lisa. Makeup." "Oh, I know, I know. Men are afraid of makeup. They get all scared that it is somehow permanent. Or that it would take too long to get it off if they are found out. But sweetheart, with the right makeup, not too much like some slapper, but something elegant, something that enhances your bone structure, you could easily pass and nobody would be any the wiser." "I don't know," I said hesitantly. "Makeup sound like a big step to me. And breasts, I just don't know." "Well I do know sweetheart," Lisa went on. She went right through dinner, telling how much better I would look and how I could easily pass. Lisa never nagged, but she did repeatedly tell me how she would love to see me like that. All the time she was either touching my hand or playing with my knee and thigh. Clearly, the idea excited her. Clearly, she genuinely wanted to experiment with me in makeup. I was reluctant to begin with but, seeing how much Lisa wanted us to do this, I couldn't see the harm. After all, everything we had done, everything she had asked me to do, had been exciting, different, and very thrilling. "I might give it a go," I said finally. "But I have a few conditions." "You know I could just say I am your mistress and you are the slave so, if I want you in makeup then that is the way it will be," Lisa said sharply. Then she softened her tone and added. "But I want you to feel good about this. I want you to feel how wonderful it is to be a girl and be my girlfriend. So, you tell me your conditions and I will tell you if I accept them." "I'll let you make me up but just this once and only if I like it. Secondly, promise that you won't make me look silly. I don't want to end up looking like a clown or some tart on the street." "Sweetheart, do I look like someone that would have some tart or a clown as my girlfriend?" "Well, no." "No, I wouldn't," she smiled reassuringly. "I accept your terms and I promise you will love how makeup makes you look. But, and this is a condition of my own and is non-negotiable. If you look good, which I know you will, then you have to let me get you some bras so we can see about you having a nice bust to go with that sweet tushy of yours." "I've already got some bras," I admitted nervously. "Really," Lisa gushed, surprised. "Then why aren't you wearing one. It would give you a much nicer figure." "Because I've got nothing to put in a bra," I said pointing at my flat chest. "Oh, sweetheart. I felt that foundation garment you have got on just now. When I put my arms around I can feel it under your dress. Well, if you can wear that you can easily wear a bra and find something to fill it." She was silent for a short while before adding. "You know this week, well I was thinking about us being together again and well, I sort of went to Molly's shop and bought something really sexy for tonight. Trust me sweetheart, you're going to love me in it. But, that wasn't my point, my point was, while I was at Molly's, I saw that she has started stocking a new type of breast form. And, after seeing them, I couldn't help but think how nice you would look with them. Best of all, they are a new design that makes them, how should I put it, more exciting, more, interesting, for the wearer. "How so?" "Not telling," Lisa giggled. "But, after I do your makeup, and after you admit that you look much better with makeup, for this weekend you can just stuff socks in your bra. But next weekend I am going to buy you a pair of breast forms. A little gift from me to my girlfriend." The conversation for the remainder of dinner, and all through washing up, went along these lines. Yet despite me pressing Lisa several times about these breast forms, she said nothing else other than how I would find wearing them exciting and very kinky. After cleaning up Lisa had me sit at the table. She went into the living room and, from her overnight bag, she fished out her makeup bag. Lisa had me take the top of my dress and push it down over my shoulders. Then, sitting in the chair next to, but facing me, she began pulling various items out of her makeup bag. Getting herself sorted Lisa held up a pair of tweezers and, looking at me all very serious she said, "Now this is going to hurt you a lot more than it will me." "Shouldn't that be the other way around?" I replied nervously. "No," Lisa grinned her wicked grin as she pushed my head back a little to get the light. "Now be a good girl and don't fidget." With that, she took her tweezers, grabbed hold of an eyebrow hair and pulled. "Ouch." "Baby." "Never mind baby. That bloody hurt. Ouch. You just did it again." "I know," Lisa giggled. "Well just be more, woo. Lisa." "Don't be silly," Lisa grinned again. "All us girls do it and we don't make a fuss about it like you are." As she spoke she grabbed another hair and yanked it out. "Lisa," I hissed through my teeth. "Look sweetheart you've got a good shape to your face but, dear god, your eyebrows are a sight. So, sit back, grit your teeth, but sit still." I did my best. For what seemed like an eternity I did my best. In the end, Lisa was happy with the results but I felt like she had ripped half my brows off. And my eyes were watering so much that I need a tissue. Lisa just stood back and admired her work with a satisfied smile on her face. "That's going to look much better." "Can I see?" I asked, reaching for the small makeup mirror she had left on the table. "Not until I'm finished," Lisa said snatching the mirror away. "I don't want you peeking until it's the finished article." There was little point in arguing with Lisa, so I didn't bother. Instead, I sat back and allowed her to get on with the task at hand. Firstly, Lisa opened a small bottle of foundation cream. She applied some to a sponge and, with the sponge, she began dabbing the cream over my face. It felt slightly wet when first applied but, as it dried, it sort of tightened on my skin. Not in an unpleasant, but it defiantly felt like my skin was a little tighter than before. While Lisa was doing all of this I couldn't help but think about the main character in the book I was translating. Matteo, the protagonist, wanted all his life to become a girl. Therefore, whenever he got the chance he would dress in girl's clothes and put on his makeup. The strange thing was, I don't think that I had ever had a wish to be a girl but, dressing up for Lisa and now letting her make me up, I was beginning to understand why Matteo loved it so much. Anybody that has shaved their body and felt the thrill of feminine clothes against their bodies knows what a delightful feeling it is. And, after wearing feminine clothes for a while, you begin to realize just how uncomfortable men's clothes are. Lisa had finished with the foundation and looked satisfied with the result. She stood back a moment, checking that she had covered my face and neck correctly and that she had shaded my nose and cheekbones to bring them out to best effect. Then she put the foundation aside and selected an eyebrow pencil. After the pencil, Lisa picked up a small case with several shades of eyeshadow. She told me to close my eyes and, while she began rubbing the shadows on my eyelids, asked me what I was thinking about. I began telling her about the book I was translating. About how Matteo wanted to change into a girl. About his cross-dressing and makeup. How he had been caught by his father and thrown out of the house so, the only way he could support himself, was to become a transvestite prostitute. In many ways, Matteo's was a sad story. But it did show that he had a real inner strength and would do whatever it took to become a girl. I had got to the part in the book where Matteo was living full time as a girl, even if he didn't have the working parts as it was. He was then calling himself Giacinta, which is Italian for Hyacinth. And he had started taking hormones. That was as far as I had gotten. "That sounds like an interesting book," Lisa said as she worked on my eyelids. "It is," I replied, feeling strangely relaxed about having her make my face up. "It's not like some of the other books we'll be translating. Some of them are pretty hard-core erotica, all bondage and sadomasochism and the like. But this one is really emotive, tragic at times and at other really tender and moving." "What's the chance of getting a sneaky look at it?" Lisa asked. "It sounds like a fascinating story." "I suppose I could print out an extra copy for you," I said. "I usually print out three proofreading copies. One for myself and two for the girls in the office. But nobody would know if I print out an extra one." "Good, I think I might like it from what you've told me," Lisa said. She stepped back saying. "Open your eyes a minute and let me have a look at you." I did, and she examined her work carefully. Lisa gave a slight nod as she set the eyeshadow aside. "You know this might come out better than I had hoped." Next, she did my mascara which was followed by an eyeliner. Then Lisa added some powder to my cheeks and finally lipstick. In all Lisa had spent about thirty minutes on my makeup and, I can honestly say, I really wanted to see the results. Yes, it felt strange having makeup on. There was that slight tightness of the skin, the smooth if somewhat greasy feel to my lips and the soft perfumed smell of the makeup that filled my nostrils with every breathe I took. Yet, despite these new and strange feelings, I wanted to see what I looked like. Lisa seemed pleased, in fact, she told me repeatedly how happy she was with the way it had turned out. But, being told is one thing, seeing for myself, that would be the real test. Before Lisa would let me go upstairs to have a look in the big mirror in the bedroom, she took out her comb and began messing with my hair. At the time I didn't have long hair so there wasn't much for Lisa to work with. Even so, she brushed it back this way and that, teased it as best she could, before standing back once more and, with an approving smile, said. "Come on then sweetheart, I want you to see the new you." She took my hand and lead the way upstairs. "All right," Lisa said, positioning me with my back to mirror. "Just remember that we're going to have do something about your hair." With that, I was allowed to turn around and see myself. For a long time, all I could do was just stare at my reflection. It was me, but not me, if you understand me. I am not going to claim that there was a beautiful woman staring back at me, there wasn't, but there wasn't a man staring at me either. I had been told before that I had small features. I had even been told that my face was boyish. But what Lisa had done, and I honestly could not believe it, was take those small, boyish features, and she had turned them into an attractive woman that totally hid the man underneath. "Is that really me?" was all I could say. And yes, I could see my lips moving in the mirror, but still, I didn't believe that the reflection was mine. My face appeared velvety, with a light brown shade highlighting my cheekbones against the light tan of the foundation. My eyes had been given an almost feline appearance and Lisa had applied three shades from honey to coffee and finally a smoky color. And my lips looked fuller and voluptuous with a careful application of a deep red lipstick. Lisa stood beside me. Her arm around my nipped-in waist. "I knew that you would look good Dee, but hell, you look better than I had hoped." With that, Lisa turned my head towards her and kissed me. And, with lipstick on, even her kiss felt different. It felt softer, more intermit, and somehow more tender. We turned to face each other, our lips never parting, as we embraced. I felt Lisa's hand slip down past my waist as she gripped my bottom, pushing me towards her and lifting me at the same time. She pressed her lips tightly to mine, her tongue probing between their strange smoothness as she invaded my mouth. "I am so happy that I've got a pretty girlfriend Dee," Lisa said huskily between kisses. "And you do want to be pretty for me, don't you Dee?" "Yes Lisa," was all I could say. I was pretty. I couldn't believe it but I really was. Perhaps not supermodel pretty but, looking the way I did then, I was pretty enough to fool anybody that didn't know I was a man. As Lisa's kisses became more intense her hands were all over my body. One minute her hand was on my bottom, the next, around my waist and then she was holding the back of my head as she pressed my lips to hers. Moments later Lisa grabbed hold of my hair, holding my head still as she smothered my mouth with her own. "Undress me darling," Lisa said hoarsely as she pressed her body to mine and ground her sex against my groin. Lisa didn't have to tell me twice. I reached behind her and found the tab of her zip. Slowly I began pulling in down. As her dress came open Lisa stepped back a fraction and allowed her dress to fall to the floor. Under her dress, Lisa wore an all-black lacy lingerie set. Her bra, suspender belt, and panties were black, as were her stockings. They were also nearly transparent. With her dress crumpled on the floor, Lisa took her arms from around my neck, lowered them, and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties. She shimmied out of her panties, smiling invitingly at me the whole time. Taking my hand, she led me toward the bed but, while she sat down on the edge of the bed, she placed her hand on my shoulder and gently pressed me so that I was kneeling before her. "I want my pretty girlfriend to show me how good she is with her tongue," Lisa cooed as she guided my face to her sex. Placing my face between her tights I kissed her sex gently. Lisa laid back on the bed and sighed as my red lips pressed against her delicate folds. I began kissing up and down the tender skin either side of her folds as Lisa lifted her sex to me and placed her hand on my head. For a while I just teased her, sometimes kissing and sometimes licking but always avoiding her sex. Lisa was moaning quietly then, as her breathing became more uneven, she lifted her legs onto my shoulders, crossing her feet behind my back. "You're such a pretty girl Dee," Lisa sighed, taking hold of my hair and pressing my face to her sex. "Be a good girl and press your painted lips to my sex. Make me cum with your painted lips." As my face was pressed to her sex my nose was filled with her musky aroma. Her sex was wet, dripping almost as my tongue snaked out and parted her inner folds. Reaching under Lisa's legs I stretched my arms up and took hold of her nipples. I began rubbing them tenderly, rolling them between finger and thumb. Then, as her nipples hardened, I pinched them. Lisa arched her back off the bed and let out a loud groan so I pinched them harder at the same moment as I sucked her clitoris between my teeth and gently nipped it. Lisa forced my face to her sex as she rocked her hips, rubbing her hot inner folds against my mouth. Her breathing was ragged, and she gasped one rapid breath after the other. Her thighs locked around my neck as her fingers gripped the bed covers in tightly balled fists. For a second she lay back on the bed, her body still and limp. Then, as a long, drawn-out moan escaped from her throat, Lisa's body became as taut as a bowstring. Tremors rippled through her body and Lisa beat he fist on the bed in time with the grunts of pleasure that came from her throat. Lisa's orgasm washed over her like stormy waves washing over a beach. She cried out loud as her back arched, lifting her head off the covers. For a second it felt as if her whole body was wrapped tightly around my head and I could hear her grunting as each wave of her climax washed over her. She was trembling, shuddering, and thrusting her hips against my face all at the same moment. When finally, her orgasm lapsed, Lisa fell back on the bed and let out a long, deep sigh. She toyed with my hair, cooing softly to herself, yet still holding me to her sex with her strong thighs. "That was so beautiful sweetheart," Lisa sighed. "And you look so pretty Dee. I want to feel your lovely painted lips on my sex again. Do me again Dee. Be a good girl and do me again." What choice did I have? What choice would anybody have when a beautiful woman wants you to show her how much you love her? So, I turned my attention back to her sex and began licking, kissing and sometimes nibbling on her clitoris. I suppose it's really a male ego thing. We all like to think of ourselves as great lovers. And, if we are, then the only way to prove that is by how much satisfaction was can give to a woman. Any man can just jump on a woman and get himself off, that's easy. But to give a woman pleasure, I mean really give her an orgasm that reaches into her very core, that love, skill, and a willingness to dedicate yourself to the woman you are with. That night I spent an hour or more between Lisa's thighs. And in that time, she had several orgasms, some major and others a rapid series of smaller yet equally satisfying ones. And, while I was securely locked in a chastity cage, I felt a great inner satisfaction in knowing that I had given her so much pleasure. It wasn't as if I felt nothing, I did. But not in the way some might think of as sexual. True, I could not, and did not, get any sexual relief myself. The damn cage made sure that could not feel anything other than a tightness each time I came close to getting erect. But I did get satisfaction from knowing that I was controlling Lisa's enjoyment. I could tease her, I could speed things up, or slow them down. I could, and did, several times take her to the edge of orgasm, only to move away from her sex and clitoris for a short while. After she had cooled down a bit I would again go back to sex and once more begin lifting her to an orgasm. I know Lisa loved to tease me when we had sex. I also know how much she loved to take me to edge and hold me there for what seemed like an eternity. But, as I was discovering, she liked to be edged herself. Lisa liked it when I teased her, loved it when I would push close to the very brink of orgasm, without letting her tip over into the joy she genuinely wanted: even needed. Much later, and after multiple orgasms, we lay together in bed. We kissed tenderly and embraced each other, fearing that to break that embrace might somehow obliterate the love we felt for each other. But, in the end, Lisa was beginning to fall asleep in my arms. Whether she was too tired from work and her journey down, or she was exhausted from the orgasms I had given her, but she was falling asleep even as we kissed. We were both still dressed in our lingerie and I am sure that my face, my makeup, was a mess. But sleep seemed to be the right thing at the time. Lisa turned over, pulling my left arm under neither her to use as a pillow. She reached back and pulled me close, having me spoon in behind her as she made herself comfortable. Then she took my right hand, which was resting on her hip, and gently placed it between her legs so that my hand was cupping her sex. Lisa moaned softly as my hand pressed tenderly against her slightly swollen sex. "I love feeling your hand on my sex," Lisa sighed, turning her head so that I might kiss her cheek. Then she snuggled down in bed and, placing her hand over mine, she pressed my hand more tightly to her sex. "Lisa," I said slowly. I knew she was tired and didn't want to press the matter too hard, but I had to ask. "Lisa. What about me? I've been locked up for a week." "Now Dee my sweet," Lisa began. "That's a lie. It's only been four days. Now I know it's new to you but please darling, don't start complaining just because you have to stay locked up when I am not with you. And besides, you already told me that you tried to get out. That was very naughty sweetheart, very naughty. And you will have to be punished for that." "Punished? Why?" I groaned. "I couldn't get out so didn't do anything wrong." "You tried," Lisa corrected me firmly. Then, in a softer tone, she added. "You gave your erections to me. You gave your orgasms to me. That is the greatest thing any man can give to the woman he loves. Then you wanted to take them back. That's not nice, courteous or polite. No Dee, it was very naughty of you to even try and take back your gift and that's why you have to be punished. But, I will give you a choice. You get to pick your own doom if you like. Either I can give you a very sound spanking, which I know you really hate. Or, you can spend some time in very strict bondage, day or so should do it. Or, you can spend another week in chastity. You pick." With that, Lisa drifted off to sleep and left me to ponder my options. To be continued. To all of you that have been so kind to write in with your views, we very much thank you. To those of you that have not, please feel free to let us know what you think of the story as we always look forward to reading your comments. Please remember however that this is a true story and, while we enjoy some suggestions that have been made. Trust me, Lisa has never been short of wicked little ideas she wants to try out on me. So please don't put any more into her head. Love to everyone, Dee.