The Red Panties Test - Part 6 free porn video

THE RED PANTIES TEST - PART 6 Dani Sweets I tried to think of what on earth to say. All of the strain of the past few weeks and months bore down upon me. How could I possibly explain the course of events that had brought me to this place? What was I to say for myself? Who even was I now? The woman staring at me shook her head, more in sorrow than condemnation. "Seriously," said Trudie, "you can tell me." The chairs in her apartment were comfortable enough, but my seat seemed to be getting hotter by the minute. I threw my hands in the air. "I really can't." "You really can," she insisted. Her usual smile was noticeably absent, although it was ready to return, I sensed, if she could just persuade me to trust her. "I told you my story, seems only fair I get yours in return." "Yes, but you didn't ... you haven't ..." "Haven't what, Nikki?" "I ... I ..." Honestly, I didn't know what to say. I had thought I might be ready to talk, but when the crunch came, I simply couldn't. So I tried changing the subject. "So you really haven't heard from Ayla? Not at all?" Trudie's face darkened and I felt a pang of guilt for asking. I knew how sore a point this was, given how close she was to her elegant co-worker. "Nope," said the usually bubbly blonde. "I've called her, messaged her every way I know how. Nothing. It's been three days now ..." "Look, she must know it's not your fault, right?" "Well, yeah, but -" "Trudie!" The petulant voice that interrupted her came from the far end of the small apartment. "You said half an hour and it's been ages!" The last word was stretched out considerably longer than the two syllables should have allowed. "Come to bed!" "There in a minute honey!" called Trudie in response. She turned back to me with an apologetic expression. "I'm really sorry, Nikki, but -" I cut her off. "Don't be. It's really good of you to put me up, especially with ..." I gestured towards the bedroom. "I mean, it's not that I don't have a home to go to, even, it's just ..." I took a deep breath and came to a decision. "Look, I'll tell you everything in the morning, okay? I just need to sleep on things. And you need to go and ... not sleep." I mustered a grin and got a beaming smile and a typically enthusiastic hug in return. "Okay sweetie, you'll be alright on the couch?" she asked. "Sure. Am I gonna need ear plugs though?" She looked puzzled for a second, then giggled. "For the noise you mean? Yeah, gonna be plenty of that. Whether I survive the night? Whole different question ..." Trudie shook her head, her expression returning to that look of dazed wonder that I'd seen a lot of over the past couple of hours, since showing up on her doorstep. With a last wave, she headed off to the bedroom. After cleaning off my makeup and brushing my teeth, I settled myself down on the couch, admiring as I did so the feel of the satin nightie that Trudie had lent me against my smooth, hairless torso. Sleep didn't come easily, however, not with the sound effects echoing through the apartment. They didn't leave much to the imagination, and if I'd been so minded I might even have tried to keep a running count of the orgasms. When I had arrived at Trudie's door earlier that evening, asking if I could possibly stay with her for a couple of days, it hadn't been a complete surprise to find that she had company. When last I had seen her the previous week, she and Ayla had been leaving the bar to which we'd gone for my first night out in female garb. I hadn't minded. since I'd met a new friend, Emmy. And Trudie and Ayla had quite clearly hooked up with a pair of pretty young redheaded girls. It was one of those, Mikayla, who was there when I arrived. Trudie had insisted that I wasn't interrupting anything, despite some looks from Mikayla that seemed to suggest otherwise. But as the evening wore on, and the younger girl showed no sign of leaving, it gradually dawned on me that this might be more than just a casual connection. It was only when Trudie sent her new girlfriend off to bed to wait for her that I finally got the story - or part of it at least. At the bar, it had been Mikayla and her lookalike friend Vonda who, noticing Ayla's frequent glances, had come over to introduce themselves. It became clear pretty quickly that they were interested in the two women sexually. That delighted Ayla, who couldn't believe her luck. Trudie, on the other hand, with no previous interest in her own sex, did her best to politely decline the offer. But a combination of the girls' persuasiveness and Trudie's reluctance to ruin her friend's big opportunity led her to "go along for the ride." I didn't get the details of the ride. But clearly Trudie had way more fun than she was expecting. And the surprising sequel was that she and Mikayla had been pretty much inseparable since. Even when Trudie was at work, the redhead came to see her at the lingerie store - and walked away with a good deal of heavily discounted apparel, which she subsequently took great delight in modelling for her new flame. This despite a habit of dressing in sweatshirts and jeans, and never previously having owned anything that could be described as lingerie. "She's sexy, she's fun, she makes me laugh," Trudie explained. "And I make her laugh too. And the sex, Nikki, oh my God ..." She gave an embarrassed grin and shivered deliciously. "I mean, I'm not going to turn or anything, I still like the idea of being fucked. But with her ... I never knew I could come so much!" And yet, because nothing can ever be straightforward, there was a catch. Ayla too had been captivated by Vonda. But the young redhead, unlike her friend, had no interest in anything beyond that. As far as she was concerned, it was strictly a one-night stand. When Ayla realised that her affections were not being reciprocated, she was devastated. And the fact that her previously straight friend was somehow now in a relationship with Mikayla just rubbed salt into the wounds. Trudie tried getting Mikayla to talk Vonda into at least seeing Ayla again. But Mikayla refused. Vonda liked to fuck around she said, and that was that. And now Ayla was not talking to Trudie and hadn't come to work for the past few days either. I was genuinely sorry about that. But, as the lovemaking in the bedroom stretched well into the small hours of the morning, I reflected that Trudie was not exactly getting the rough end of the pineapple. Whereas I ... After a few short hours' sleep, I was awoken by the sounds of yet more sex. Shaking my head in a combination of irritation and admiration, I got up, made a pot of coffee, and was on my second cup by the time Trudie emerged. She looked exhausted, yet at the same time she positively glowed with the aftereffects of her latest climaxes. We munched on some croissants and chatted idly for a while. But I could see she was waiting for me to open up, and I knew it was something I had to get off my chest. I had been bottling things up for too long, and I needed to unburden myself about all of it - not just what had happened over the last few traumatic days. Eventually, I called a halt to the casual conversation. "Trudie, I don't think I can stand any more of your patience! You can be really annoying that way, you know?" I smiled to rob the words of any offence. "You want the story, right?" She laughed. "Oh, I was about to start threatening you if you didn't open up soon!" Her expression grew a little more serious. "If you're ready though?" I put my cup down, stood up and walked behind her chair. Stooping down, I kissed her on the top of her head. "You're a darling. Nearly ready. I just need to put my face on first." It was strange, but it just didn't feel right not having any makeup on. Or, more especially, going without shaving my (fortunately) light and patchy stubble. Before last night, and aside from our fateful night out, Trudie had only ever seen me as Emile. Yet it was not just that I'd spent the past few days as Nikki. I really wanted to talk to her girl to girl. My new proficiency with makeup meant that it didn't take me long to get myself looking the way I wanted. I rummaged in the suitcase I'd brought and found a floral blouse and a denim skirt. I hadn't had room for a lot of footwear, but my favourite wedge-heeled sandals worked perfectly well, showing off my brightly painted toenails. I added some gold jewellery, including some pretty anklets that I'd shamelessly filched from my wife's collection. "Wow Nikki!" said Trudie admiringly when I walked back into the kitchen. She had moved to the sofa but was still in her nightwear. "You've really got the hang of this, haven't you?" She paused, then gave a mock frown. "Maybe too good though. Now I'm worried about Mikayla trading me in for a younger model ..." I laughed. "I'm not that much younger! And I don't have your ... assets." I gestured at her impressive breasts, which were on full display beneath her lacy black peignoir. It said a lot both for our relationship and my state of mind that I had not been staring at a sight which not so long ago would have had me instantly aroused. She jiggled her boobs, giggling. "True. Those aren't what she's interested in though. Not mostly, anyway." "Really? Is that what she tells you? "It's what her eyes tell me. Same way yours say you don't want me. Which is fine. But are you going to tell me who you do want? Or who wants you?" I sighed and collapsed into an armchair, kicking off my sandals and drawing my feet up under me to get comfortable. "Well ... it's complicated." So I told her exactly how complicated it was. Once I had turned the tap on, it all came flowing out of me. At some point, Mikayla came out of the bedroom and joined Trudie on the couch, sitting more on her lap than next to her. She was wearing jeans, and nothing else. But somehow neither her presence, nor her skinny body and small but shapely breasts, served as any kind of distraction. Stopping me only occasionally to ask for clarification, the two semi-naked women listened intently to my tale. I started with my brief but fateful stay in prison, and the red panties test I had failed - or, from another point of view, passed. I explained how I had been coerced (or, if I was honest, encouraged) into feminising myself to work for my stepfather-in-law, Warren. Then I talked about the role Trudie and Ayla had played in not just helping me to become Nikki but pushing me to go way further than I might have done on my own. "Not saying it's your fault or anything," I emphasised. "I'll always be so grateful for what you did. You're like Daddy, you could see something I had no idea was there. It's amazing how that can happen." I smiled fondly and my eyes twinkled as I deliberately looked from one to the other of the young women sitting across from me. The two of them grinned, a little sheepishly in Trudie's case, and shared a tender kiss. I moved on to my first night out as Nikki, and the tale of what I got up to with Emmy, the tall transsexual who had introduced me to the delights of cocksucking, courtesy of a gloryhole in a sex club right above the bar. Trudie's eyes widened as she listened to me describing my first taste of a man's dick, while Mikayla affected disinterest. But they were both hooked on the story now. I could almost feel proud about that - even if the truly painful part was still to come. Mention of Emmy also reminded me that I had thought very hard about going to her last night to seek both refuge and counsel, rather than to Trudie. But as fabulously as we had got on, she just didn't know me well enough. She had only seen the nervous crossdresser on her first public outing, trying to figure out her sexuality. She had no idea who Emile was. I had messaged her a couple of times to make it clear that I wanted to catch up with her - but after I had "worked some stuff out." That had to be the understatement of the year. It had all come to a head on my next day of work at Warren's luxury penthouse apartment. I had been going there for months to act as his personal maid and secretary, and each and every day he had forced me to dress in female clothing. But this was the first time that I had worn makeup as well - and introduced myself to him as Dominique, or Nikki for short. It had gone terribly at first. Distracted by his refusal to show any interest in my transformation, my work had suffered, and I made mistake after mistake. It was only after the pain and humiliation of a second spanking, and the arousal I felt when he was spreading a soothing lotion on my smarting buttocks, that the reaction came - but from me, not him. When he called me Nikki and began to milk (there was no other word for it) my stiff little dick, I was forced to tell him what I really wanted. I had feared all along, from the very first time he demanded that I come to work for him in a pair of red panties, that he would use me sexually. I had become obsessed about what this powerful and ruggedly handsome older man would do to me, especially as it became clear that he had criminal connections and very likely personal experience of the prison environment that had exposed my sissy tendencies. I had fixated in particular on what I was certain was his excessively large manhood. But it turned out that it was me who desired him, not the other way around. I had begged him to let me suck his cock, then exulted when he granted my wish. It had not been as huge as I had imagined. But it was still big enough. And the load that he pumped all over my face was no less impressive. I had thought then that we were on the verge of a new and exciting phase in our relationship. But how little did I know! Because the first thing he did was to send me off to answer the front door with his cum still sticking to my face and hair, while my own seeped out of my sodden panties and ran down my stocking-clad legs. And who was the visitor? None other than Jillian, Warren's stepdaughter. And, of course, my wife "Holy fuck!" exclaimed Trudie, even as Mikayla expressed her shock in similarly obscene terms. "Did she recognise you?" demanded the wide-eyed young redhead, peering at me intently through her horn-rimmed glasses. "Yep," I said. "And she was ... well, shocked would be an understatement." We had stared at one another for several seconds, before Warren's powerful voice sounded through the intercom. "Don't keep our guest waiting, Dominique, bring her up." Dominique, I noticed, not the less formal Nikki. Fear and the habit of obedience fought a brief battle, which the latter won. I opened the door wide and stood aside. Jillian hesitated, then walked inside. Her eyes raked up and down me, taking in my dishevelled, cum-stained appearance. I waited for her to ask why I looked the way I did - makeup, stockings, high heels, all of it. But to my surprise, she said nothing. After her initial consternation, she had recomposed her expression. But there was a hint of ... trepidation, perhaps? But also anticipation. As for me, my insides were in turmoil. But that was nothing new. "In here," called Warren from the lounge. I saw that he had put away the cock I had just so enthusiastically serviced, although it would not have surprised me in the slightest if he had left it hanging out of his unzipped pants. He gave an easy smile as he saw us. "Jillian, darling, so good to see you. Dominique, please take our guest's coat." I turned automatically. My wife hesitated and shot her stepfather an inquiring glance. I didn't see his reaction, but whatever she saw there made her flinch slightly. Before I could ask what was wrong, she gave a shrug and unbuttoned her coat. Underneath, she was wearing nothing but lacy black lingerie. No blouse, no skirt or pants: just underwear. It was the kind of bra, panty and suspender belt that I had taken to wearing myself. Except that where I invariably chose an opaque material, this was fully see-through, exposing the wide brown nipples of her beautiful breasts - and also the fact that she had shaved off all her pubic hair. I couldn't help but stare at her smooth slit, wondering when she had done that. In the years I had known her, she had always trimmed her bush, never defoliated it completely. But more importantly, I wondered why she was dressed this way. She was also, I noticed, wearing her highest heels. I should know, because I'd practiced in them often enough. But she generally only brought them out for special occasions ... "Here you go ... Dominique," she said, thrusting the coat at me. "Thank you, uh ..." "Ma'am," prompted Warren. I could almost hear the grin. "Ma'am," I repeated dutifully. "Good girl," he said approvingly. "Now, come and give Daddy a nice big kiss." I hesitated, but not so Jillian. She strode across the room to him, threw her arms around her stepfather's neck and kissed him. But it was not a stepdaughter's kiss. It was full on the mouth and with her lips parting to accept his tongue. As they embraced, she pressed her body into his. And his hands were not lightly resting on her waist. They were grabbing her ass, fondling her plump buttocks. I stared open-mouthed at the sight of my scantily clad wife in the arms of my employer. And not just my employer, but the man who had come all over my face just minutes ago. A man whose cock, I now realised, I had been craving for weeks. And the man who had so effortlessly put me into feminised servitude. I simply couldn't process what I was seeing. The embrace went on far past the point, in both duration and physicality, where it could be interpreted as a casual greeting. It could only say one thing about their relationship. Yet my brain baulked at the obvious conclusion. It was not just that I didn't want to believe it. I simply couldn't. Except that I had to. Even as he was kissing my wife, Warren was watching me wrestle with my altered reality. He didn't bother to disguise his amusement. When he had finished, he nodded at me, as if accepting and at the same time excusing my state of shock. "Go and get yourself cleaned up, Dominique. And you'll want to get back into your maid's apron. You'll be cooking dinner for us. And then I think we might get a few things straightened out, don't you?" I nodded automatically, but I was still in a daze. When I made no move, he raised an eyebrow and inclined his head towards the door. I hesitated - and here it was yet again. The chance to take a stand, to resist his hold over me - and perhaps whatever hold he had over my wife as well. Perhaps the last chance I might have. But there was no chance, not really. I didn't have it in me, and he knew it. And so, I realised with a sickening certainty, did Jillian as well. The look she gave me as I nodded in obedience and departed said it all. There was no disdain there, or disappointment. Just ... recognition. And I understood too in that moment that she had known about me - about how I was dressing and what I was becoming. She had certainly been surprised to find me here, that was clear. Warren must have led her to believe that I would already have left for the day. Just as I had thought she was away for a few days at a conference. But her look was not the stare of a woman shocked to find her husband dressed as a woman. Whether she had found out herself or Warren had told her, I couldn't be sure. But find out she must have done. The next few hours were painful, as much for what didn't happen as anything that did. After cleaning off Warren's spunk and repairing my makeup, I put my classic black and white French maid's outfit back on and resumed my duties. Besides wiping up the trail of cum I had left, I was required to serve pre-dinner drinks and then rustle up some food. "Surprise us," was my employer's only instruction. I had been doing the bulk of the cooking at home for months, I knew pretty well what Warren liked, and the kitchen and larder were well stocked. So it wasn't too hard to whip up some seafood pasta and a Greek salad, with a lemon syrup sponge to follow, all of which were well received. What hurt me most was the lack of any visible awkwardness. After her brief initial discomfort, Jillian seemed every bit as ready as Warren to treat me as the servant that my uniform suggested me to be. But worse than that was the intimacy, the easy familiarity she displayed with Warren. This was not a new relationship, I could see. It had been going on for months - maybe for as long as I'd been working here. Or perhaps longer. At the same time, there was nothing equal about the pairing. Jillian's attire attested to that. To come here without any outer clothing, and to leave her body on display the way it was - that spoke to her subservience. So too did her manner. At home, she had always been bright, chirpy and opinionated. I could see none of that here. She deferred to her stepfather in every regard. And yet there was no sense that she was chafing under his control. She was just a quieter, more relaxed version of her usual self. I had to accept that she willing to be whoever Warren wanted her to be, just as I had been. And that hurt, in ways that I still wasn't sure I fully understood. She even called him Daddy, just as I did. Or rather as I had done when it was just the two of us. He was strictly Sir right now. While I was working, Jillian barely acknowledged my presence, beyond thanking me for my service. Except for once. As I cleared away the main course, she gave me an appraising look. "That's a very sexy outfit you're wearing, Dominique." It was always Dominique, never Nikki. "And you look very ... pretty in it. You know, with the makeup." "Thank you, ma'am," I murmured. I had no idea how else to respond. Jillian frowned. "Ma'am. Makes me sound far too old. I think I might prefer ...." Her mouth creased into a smile. "How about ... Mistress? What do you think, Daddy?" I looked round at my employer. As so often, his expression was calm and unreadable. "I'm not sure, Jilly." It was a name that I knew she hated. Yet she seemed to have no objection to him using it. "What does our pretty young maid think?" The pretty young maid wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. But really, what was there to say? "Whatever you wish ... mistress." I turned and headed for the kitchen, so that I didn't see my wife's reaction. And so that she couldn't watch the flush spread over my face. But I could still hear Warren's chuckle. The other thing that I found difficult to accept was my lack of arousal at the sight of Jillian's near-nakedness. She was an undeniably attractive woman with a firm, young body. We had not been married all that long, and at home I still got turned on by the sight of her undressed, or even with only partially revealing clothes. While we had more or less stopped having sex while I was in the worst of my post- prison funk, more recently our lovemaking had been both regular and satisfactory, despite everything that was distracting me - and, I was now forced to accept, distracting her as well. Yet nothing about the way she currently looked was causing the slightest response .That probably had a lot to do with the strain caused by the bizarre confrontation Warren had engineered. But I sensed that it was more than that. As Emile, I loved my wife. But right now, I wasn't him. I'd already discovered, both at the gloryhole and earlier this day, how far I was prepared to go as Nikki. Not just to look and dress differently, but to do things I would never have dreamed of doing as Emile. And not just do them but find them exciting. Even now, it wasn't Jillian's newly shaved crotch that I couldn't help glancing at, but the bulge in Warren's groin. After dinner had been cleared away, the diners had repaired to the lounge and further drinks had been served, I was given the clearest possible demonstration of just how much had changed for me - and for Jillian as well. "Dominique," said Warren in a tone which suggested he was about to ask me to go and find some chocolates, "why don't you come over here and show your wife what a good little cocksucker you are." He opened his legs and pointed in between them. It was an instruction, not an invitation. And yet even so, I hesitated. I couldn't help looking at Jillian. Her expression was tense, but she raised her eyebrows as if to say "Well?" "Don't tell me you're looking for yet another spanking?" inquired her stepfather, his lips twitching into a grin. "Because we can do that too, if you like." I didn't like at all. While what had happened since my second bout of chastisement for the day had largely driven it out of my mind, my bottom was still very sore. I had spent the last few hours on my feet, unable to sit down even to eat the small plate of salad that was all my culinary responsibilities had allowed by way of dinner. As accustomed as I had become to high heels, my calves were starting to protest at the strain of standing up in them for so long. So from that one perspective at least, it was a relief to sink down to my knees on the plush carpet in the spot my employer had indicated. But in every other way, it was a torment. Not least because I was unable to restrain my eagerness to get Daddy's cock back in my mouth. I found myself slavering when I pulled the thick shaft out of his pants and couldn't help stuffing it into my mouth, relishing and yet simultaneously ashamed at the way it quickly grew to full hardness. And of course Warren noticed it too. "Wow, you really do love sucking that big dick, don't you Nikki? Jilly, why you don't come and have a feel of just how excited this is making our pretty little maid?" I moaned when I heard that, but with my mouth full of hot, throbbing man meat it probably just sounded like one more affirmation of how I felt about servicing my well-hung employer. Beside me, I could sense Jillian joining me on the floor. Then I felt her hand reach under my skirt. "Are you sure you still have your little pecker, Dominique?" she asked teasingly, failing to find it where it would usually be. "Oh, there it is!" With some difficulty, she drew my engorged cocklet out from the gaff that was keeping it tucked between my legs. "Oh my, it's so small! But so very hard too." She squeezed it and I couldn't help moaning again, both from arousal and humiliation. She had never commented on my size before. "Here," she said, "let me show you how it's done." And with that she pulled my head away and set to work on Warren's cock. She was far more active than she had ever been on the rare occasions she had given me oral pleasure. She was able to get the whole shaft into her mouth and down her throat without gagging, suggesting that she could be drawing on experience that might well predate her relationship with Warren. "Isn't she something?" asked Warren admiringly. "I think she might want my cock even more than you do, Nikki," he observed. "Though wants ... well, there's different kinds of wanting, right? Mmmm." He closed his eyes for a few seconds, savouring Jillian's enthusiastic and clearly very skilled attention to his manhood. "Right?" I nodded dutifully as he opened his eyes again and fixed me with an intent look. I didn't understand at all, but I sensed that what he was about to say would be important. Perhaps even the "straightening out" he had promised earlier. I tried to concentrate, though it was difficult with my wife busy alongside me giving her stepfather what was clearly a well practiced blowjob. And with my hand too clutched around my own less impressive erection - and trying desperately not to start stroking it. "See," continued my employer, "you're here because I wanted you to work for me. And once you realised what it involved, you started to want it too ..." There was a brief pause as he savoured the feel of his cock deep in Jillian's throat. "But I don't want you." He held up a hand, almost in a placatory gesture. "Oh, don't get me wrong. I don't mind taking advantage of how much you love my dick. You're certainly cute enough. If I'd come across a pretty little thing like you when I was behind bars ... well, I'd have been coming across you, all over you, inside you ..." I shivered at that image, even as he confirmed what I'd long suspected about how he knew of the red panties test. 'I have some ... well, friends isn't the word, call them ... associates," continued Warren, his big hand lightly resting now on Jillian's head as she continued to fellate him. "They never did get over their taste for boy pussy. They still have girlfriends who really aren't. Sometimes the same ones they were fucking in jail, sometimes new recruits. Not always willing recruits either, with some of them, not in the start anyway." He gave an ominous chuckle. "If you keep working for me, I'll be sure to invite some of those boys over. I promise they'll treat you exactly like the slut I reckon you want to be ..." If it was shivers a few seconds ago, it was full blown chills running through me as I heard that. But the word that really shocked me was the "If" with which he had started. What did that mean? "But as for me," continued Warren, "well, what I wanted was what you had." He glanced down at Jillian's bobbing head and stroked the back of her neck. "I just figured out a fun way to ... get you out of the way." So there it was, in all its Machiavellian glory. He hadn't feminised me because he wanted to hurt or humiliate me. Or to demonstrate his power over me. Or even to use me sexually - that was just a potential bonus, not the point of the exercise. He simply wanted to distract me, so I wouldn't notice he was fucking my wife. And more than that, he had found a way to demonstrate to her that I was unfit to be her husband. But there was still one more twist of the knife to come. "Now maybe you're thinking I've just forced you to do all this," said my employer. "Pretty sure you've figured out that's not true. But I could see you telling yourself some story, some fantasy about me forcing the lovely young Jillian here to dress the way she is, do what she's doing. Well, you'd be wrong. She's here because she absolutely wants to be. Because she wants to be fucked by a real man. Don't you honey?" Jillian lifted her eyes to look at her stepfather and nodded. Then, sensing more was expected, she lifted her head from his cock and said "Yeah, I like being fucked by a real man, Daddy." She glanced at me as she said that and then held my gaze as she resumed licking Warren's big, purple glans. There was no defiance there, no apology. Just a statement of fact. And the clearest possible implication too - that her husband wasn't a real man. And really, never had been. Quite apart from my current appearance, there was no way that even the old, pre-prison Emile could have competed with what her stepfather had to offer. Any further reflection on the comparison, however, was cut short when Jillian abruptly announced: "In fact, I want to be fucked right now." She stood up, unclipped her bra and stepped out of her panties, so that she was left wearing only her stockings and heels. She made to clamber onto Warren's lap, but he shot out a strong hand and caught her wrist. She voiced a wordless objection, but her stepfather ignored the moan of disappointment and fixed me with an intense look. "Feel how wet she is Nikki. Go on." I reached out a tentative hand. I had known Jillian's pussy get wet before, especially when I was licking it. But nothing like this. Her gash was absolutely sopping. As she proceeded to demonstrate by pulling free of Warren's grasp, straddling his lap and then lowering herself until she was impaled on his rampant cock. His thick shaft disappeared inside her with incredible ease, though she gave a little squawk when he reached the point of maximum insertion, and she was sitting on his lap. I watched her thigh muscles flex as she levered herself back up, then began to squat up and down on the big dick buried in her cunt. As she did so Warren brought his mouth to hers, kissing her briefly before turning his attention to her bouncing boobs. Jillian moaned as her stepfather took the best part of one of them into his mouth, Then suddenly, to both my surprise and hers, Warren was surging to his feet. Both hands moved round to grasp Jillian's ass cheeks, simultaneously lifting her and ensuring that she did not slip off his shaft. Reflexively, she gripped his waist tightly with her thighs, crossed her ankles behind his back and did the same with her hands around his neck. "What are you doing?" she inquired anxiously. He barked out a short laugh in response. "What you asked," he replied. Although Jillian was not a small woman, Warren seemed to bear her weight effortlessly. Until, that is, he reached a blank stretch of wall nearby. Pushing Jillian's back flat against it, her legs dangling, he began to fuck her vigorously, bulling his way inside her. As he crashed into her, my first thought was that the wall might give way, with all the force he was imparting. I guess though that as a building contractor, in the lawful part of his business at any rate, he would have had a good sense of how much it could take. But my next concern was for Jillian. She began to scream and flail her limbs, her body jolting with every thrust as her stepfather mercilessly piled into her with his spearing phallus. I took a step towards the two of them, with no clear idea of what I could or should do, but knowing only that she needed my help. Until I realised that she wasn't in pain. She was coming. I didn't realise it at first, because she'd never made those noises for me. Though of course how could she? I could never fuck her like that ... Her orgasms continued right up to the point that Warren grunted mightily and gave five or six convulsive thrusts, with such force that it wouldn't have surprised me if he had torn right through Jillian and punctured the wall behind her. There was just a little pause at the end of each thrust, almost like a tennis or basketball player holding the pose at the end of what they knew was a winning shot. The last one was held extra long, until finally he came down from his tiptoes and sagged just a little in the knees. But he still pinned her against the wall, and it took another minute or so for her shuddering and incoherent wails of pleasure to subside. As Jillian returned from whatever place Warren's extravagant assault had taken her, she shook her head in disbelief. "Oh fuck, Daddy, that was ... I never ... That was so ..." Unable to find the words, she brought her lips down on his and kissed him fiercely and passionately. It had surely been clear for several hours, but if there was any doubt that my marriage was over, I knew it then. "Oh god Nikki, I am so, so sorry. I mean, I can't even begin to think how you must be feeling ..." Trudie was staring at me, her eyes shining with tears. Beside her, Mikayla was looking sympathetic, but at the same time eager for the story to continue. "So what happened next?" she demand. Trudie shot an irritated glance at her girlfriend. "Nikki doesn't have to go on if it's too painful, sweetie." "No, that's okay," I said. "Honestly, I think I'm better just, you know, letting it all out. Before I have to ... well, you'll see. Anyway, so I've just watched my boss bang the brains out of my wife. And then, to cap it off ..." When Warren finally pulled Jillian away from the wall, he didn't put her on the floor, but carried her back to the couch on which she'd been sitting and lowered her down. She sprawled out, still panting from the effects of what he had just done to her. Then he turned to me. "Clean her up," he instructed. "With your tongue," he added, rather unnecessarily, since his look told me exactly what was expected. I knelt down, moving quickly in order to forestall what might be a pretty big stain on the couch. A stain which, I had no doubt, I would be responsible for removing. The task of licking another man's leavings out of my wife's cunt should have been disgusting. Well, the idea was humiliating, that was for sure. Yet far from being revolted, I somehow managed to savour the second taste of my employer's spunk. Indeed so active was my tongue that I tipped Jillian over the edge and she came once again, the sharp tang of her juices contrasting with the salty sperm I was sucking out of her pussy. She grabbed my hair and jammed my face into her hairless crotch until I had finished my task and her latest climax was finally spent. As I stood back up, Warren was waiting for me. He lifted up my skirt, to reveal my rock hard cocklet. He chuckled. "Well, Nikki, if that doesn't say it all, I'm not sure what more you need. Now you can clean me up as well - and take care of yourself at the same time." He had me kneel on a coffee table while I sucked his semi-hard cock clean, keeping my eyes looking up at him as I did so. It took only a couple of strokes for me to find my own release. Despite the beating my self-esteem had taken, and the awareness that my wife was a spectator, the orgasm was still intense, And then of course I had to lick up my own cum. When I had finished, Warren said: "Well, thank you for your services Dominique, that will be all. You can go home now. Unless you want to stay and watch us some more? I believe Jilly wants me fuck her in the ass, isn't that right sweetheart?" I swung round to look at my wife. That was not something it would even have occurred to me to ask her about, let alone do. She gave a warm smile. "That's right Daddy." I swallowed and returned my gaze to her stepfather. "Um, no thank you sir, I'll ... leave you to it." He nodded. "Okay then. Now, I'm going away for a few days, and Jilly will be coming with me. But I'll expect you back here next Thursday. If, that is, you still want the job." I stared at him for a few seconds, trying to process what I'd just heard, then dropped my head and said quietly: "I'll think about it, sir." Warren smiled. "I'm sure you will. Alright then, off you go." I started to head to the room where I kept my clothes, then stopped and looked at my wife. "Excuse me, er ... mistress. Will you be, um, coming home to pick up any clothes? You know, before your trip?" She shook her head. "Thank you for asking, Dominique, but no. I have a suitcase ready in the car. I'll be returning to my home on Wednesday. I'll decide then what I'm going to do with you." The message couldn't have been clearer - it was her home, not mine. And she would decide what was to happen to me. I bowed my head, said "Yes mistress," and headed off to change. When I was ready, I called a car and went outside to wait. It said a great deal for my state of mind that I was halfway home before I realised that I had changed back into my secretary's outfit, not my male clothing. And my wallet and keys were still in my pants back at Warren's apartment. Fortunately, I had my phone and with it the means to pay for both my ride (the driver got a bigger than usual tip for not commenting on my appearance) and anything else I might need. And the spare key in the shed let me into the house. But after a few days morosely knocking around a place that might no longer be my home, depending on the outcome of my next conversation with Jillian, I couldn't face being alone anymore. "So that's how I came to turn up on your doorstep, looking for a friendly face," I said to Trudie. "Or, um, faces," I added, acknowledging Mikayla. The young redhead shook her head. "Seriously, that is so fucked up ... You must really hate them, huh? I mean, your wife, your boss ..." I gave a deep sigh. "Hate them? Honestly, I don't know. I think I'm more angry with myself, for being so ... weak. Thing is though, I actually like being Nikki. The clothes, the makeup, even the work I was doing. Having girlfriends. Well, of a sort anyway ..." That got a smile from Trudie. "Even the work," I continued. Not saying I want to spend my whole time doing housework, but I really didn't mind all that. I mean, I was pretty good at being a lawyer, but I was never really happy ..." "But where does that leave you, Nikki?" asked Trudie. "You said you thought your marriage was over, but does Jillian agree? I mean I'm assuming she can't just come out and say that she's moving in with her stepfather, right?" I gave a mirthless chuckle. "Yeah, that would certainly make for some interesting conversations with her mother ..." One of the many things I didn't know was how my mother-in-law would react to the news that her handsome new husband was fucking her daughter - assuming she ever found out. Debra was a wealthy and powerful woman and there would have to be at least social consequences for offending her so badly. She might even take it out on me, especially if she learnt anything about my strange and compliant role in Warren's affair. "Anyway," I continued, "I don't know what Jillian has in mind, or even what she thinks she really can decide. Or what going back to work for Warren would mean." "Well, just because you've started your life one way, doesn't have to mean you're stuck like that," observed Mikayla, glancing sideways at Trudie, who grinned back at her. "You can be who you want to be." I nodded. "You're right. I'm just not quite sure right now who I even am - or who wants me." I hugged my legs into my chest and let out a deep breath. "But I guess I'll find out soon enough ..." ************* [To be continued in Part 7] I would love to hear what you think about this story!!! Please send me an email at [email protected] Or post a review. Or even better, both!!!