Bride in white lingerie and stockings spreads legs.
To get the background for this story, you should read my first story - Little Beat Off Boy. For those that haven't read it, basically it tells how I met my girlfriend and she made me beat off for her. I should tell you that Jean is about 5' 8" and very athletic. She has 34 C breasts, long brown hair and a nice tight athletic body with an ass that won't quit. I'm also about 5'8", 140 lbs. with a swimmers build. This story starts where my previous story ends.
When I woke up the next day, I could barely look Jean in the eye. I tried to put my cloths on as fast as possible and leave, but she would have none of that. She insisted that I stay for breakfast. Since it was a Saturday and I didn't have to work, I stayed. Jean was quite a good cook. We had a great breakfast and talked for several hours. Although I started to feel more at ease, I was still conscious of the fact that the night before I had beat off on to her leg and been made to lick it off. She never mentioned it and I was too embarrassed to say anything.
When I finally did have to leave, Jean gave me her phone number and said that I should call her...unless I was free that night. I told her I was free and made plans to pick her up at 7:00 for a movie.
Over the next few weeks we went out almost every night, but all of our dates ended the same way - I had too much to drink and spent the night at her house. She would come to bed, see my little hard-on and make me beat off, and then lick it up. I was starting to think that I would never have sex with her. I tried everything I could think of - getting her drunk, long massages, make out sessions. We would always end up the same way - my hand wrapped around my little dick, beating off on her leg and me kneeling down and licking her leg clean.
Finally, one night I had way too much to drink. I started blubbering about wanting sex. Jean said "I'm sorry, I just don't feel like having sex with you. Look, you're a nice guy and I enjoy our time together. Why do you want to ruin it by having sex? Besides, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but with that little four inch dick of yours, I'm not sure I would feel anything." She giggled when she told me that and even though I was humiliated, I couldn't think of anything to say. I had another drink, which was a big mistake, and the last thing I remember was crying on her shoulder while she put her arm around my shoulders and said "Come on over to mommy. That's a good little boy. Mommy doesn't like to see her little boy sad. That's right, play with your little thing. Make it squirt like a big boy!"
I don't know if I ever did squirt, but in the morning I woke up with a king-size hangover. I looked over and Jean was not in the room so I started to get up to find her and almost fell over when I looked down. Sometime during the night, she had put diapers and rubber pants on me. I immediately tried to take them off and noticed that there was a wire that ran through the rubber pants with a lock on it. I pulled on the lock to no avail and finally gave up.
I went down stairs and confronted Jean by asking her what she thought she was doing. She looked at me and said, "If you are going to act like a little boy, you are going to be treated like a little boy. You cried like a little baby, squirted your nasty stuff all over last night and then fell asleep before you cleaned it up. I'm not your maid and I'm not going to clean up after you. Further, I'm going to teach you a lesson starting right now."
I was so shocked, I couldn't respond. I just stared at her while she continued, "When you are dressed as a baby, you don't walk, talk, or do anything a baby wouldn't do. I'll allow you three words - peepee, poopoo and mess. When you have to do one of the three, you can let me know." When I asked her what mess was, she said, "A mess is what you make when you squirt your little load. You can pee and poop when you need to, but if I ever catch you making a mess without my permission, I can't begin to tell you how sorry you will be."
I thought for a minute and then decided that this was the final draw. She had made me beat off like a little boy and lick it up off of her leg, but this was too much. When I told her so, she said, "You are free to leave any time." I was so mad, I walked right out the door. As soon as I was out the door, I realized what a mistake I had made. It was 10:00 A.M. and there were people out and about in her neighborhood. I was standing there in a diaper and rubber pants with people staring and laughing.
(tale # 13) get full text ... Bride in white lingerie and stockings spreads legs.
Latex boots and nylon stockings gal.
We managed to get up in time to catch the tail end of the evening meal. It seemed strange to be sitting across from Heather and Cassie again, twenty-four hours after meeting them, and be on such different terms of intimacy. All four of us were playing footsie under the table and exchanging delighted, sparkle-eyed, grins above it as we ate and talked. It felt wonderful. There was a joyous free and easy flow of affection and sexual play among us. Annie and I were somewhat concerned at first about how the other people in the camp would react to our unusual bond but Heather and Cassie assured us that these were very tolerant people regarding relationships and this proved to be true. Later, the only comments we heard simply reflected the fact that we were viewed as a quartet without any negative implications.
While we were eating, the low throbbing sound of drums began to emanate from the woods, some distance away. Cassie and Heather explained that dancing around a bonfire to the beat of drums was a regular feature of these gatherings. Annie and I were both less than feverous with enthusiasm but it was clear that our two companions were eagerly anticipating the event so we quickly finished eating and joined them in finding the path that led to the constant thumping beat that called to us out of the gathering dark. As we got closer I felt the sonorous pounding quickening my blood and deepening my breath, touching something buried within.
They'd neglected to mention that most of the dancers danced naked so it was a bit of a shock for me when the bonfire came into sight and we saw the flashing forms of a number of naked men and women circling around it, moving to the insistant pounding cadence of the handmade Native American style drums. Heather and Cassie pulled off their dresses as soon as we reached the circle of people watching the dancers. Annie wasn't far behind. I however, chose to remain with the other spectators.
Heather was the hairiest woman among them. I enjoyed watching her dance. She seemed to melt easily into the intoxicating rhythm, oblivious to the wild swinging of her breasts. I was enthralled by the shifting views of her hairiness revealed by the fire's wavering light.
Cassie was more sedate, less absorbed. I enjoyed watching her too. Her hairiness, I realized, was almost as extensive as Heather's but much lighter, more subtle. Annie, my darling wife, was her usual spritely self and danced with quick joyful leaps. I saw that the three of them maintained an awareness of each other through playful touches and glances.
After observing the variety of movements and soaking up the primal excitement of the drums I found the courage to shuck off my t-shirt and cut-offs and join the exultant throng. The three women quickly noticed my presence and each greeted me with a smile or pat. It was a new experience in a weekend crammed with fascinating new experiences. I would never have imagined how exhilarated I could feel dancing naked with a bunch of other naked people around a fire in the woods to the solid hammering pulse of drums.
We danced for almost six hours, taking occasional breaks to sit on the grass with the spectators and other weary dancers. Finally Cassie announced that she'd had enough. I was ready to go too but both Heather and Annie were caught up in the fever of the dance.
"You guys go back to the tent and we'll show up when we show up, okay?" Annie said.
So Cassie and I put on our clothes and fumbled our way along the pitch black path. "We should have brought flashlights," Cassie grumbled irritably, at one point. For the most part, however, we were silent. I sensed that she was absorbed in her own thoughts and I didn't feel much like talking myself. I felt physically tired and yet light-hearted. When we got back to the tent we lit the propane lantern only long enough to take off our clothes again and arrange the bedclothes. There was an inexplicable tension between us that nibbled at the back of my mind but didn't capture my full attention. I just assumed that something was bothering her. After seeing that she was settled I shut off the lantern and lay down a couple of feet away.
(tale # 14) get full text ... Latex boots and nylon stockings gal.
Jill kelly shyla foxx.
My visitors arrived on time and before they started on their tasks I offered them a drink. Bill sat silently at the table while Stan seemed to hover about. I soon realised his purpose when he began to stroke my backside as I prepared their drinks. He told me how nice I looked and mentioned my cleavage letting his fingers trace along the edge of my blouse. My bra showed slightly and both men agreed how much more sexy it made it look. I didn’t protest when Bill stood and joined him – now they played with one tit each.
“All our friends that share our interest would be quite upset and jealous if they knew we were showing you the delights of spanking - I feel quite guilty about keeping you a secret,” commented Stan.
“You actually have a local group – and do you all get together and talk about it?” I was shocked and surprised at his comment.
“Yes, of course, we know a few women locally who indulge with us but sometimes we have to hire a willing girl if we want to enjoy our pastime. It’s not very often we meet someone like you.”
I was disturbed and asked, “Have you discussed me with them?”
“No, of course not – but they would be more nervous of you! They are very careful and wary not to attract any scandal. Have you considered the added excitement of being chastised in front of others?”
I was always amazed on how he asked the most intimate questions making them sound quite normal. When I answered no he sighed and thought it a pity saying how much more intense to excitement was and how it’s a chance to try other things. The thought intrigued me and as we talked and sipped our drinks and they played with my tits I found myself getting aroused imagining strangers witnessing me being spanked.
“So do these other men live around here?” I asked trying to sound mildly curious.
“All very near, yes,” Stan answered.
(tale # 15) get full text ... Jill kelly shyla foxx.
Ripe blonde nude outdoor.
I stood naked in the iron cage in the living room. My wrists cuffed to the heavy black bars above my head. Two maids—real Thai maids, not Mistresses—went about their business. What did they think of this? I could not tell. They would occasionally give me a curious glance, but spoke only to themselves in whispers.
My wait was longer than usual, but eventually I heard the click of Mistress’s steps as she came down the wood stairs. I had tried hard to prevent an erection in front of the maids, but the mere sound of my Mistress’s steps had my penis stirring. Then Mistress appeared.
It was not what I expected, but the effect was no less stunning. She was not wearing the fetish wear I was accustomed to. She was dressed like one of the many cute and sexy young Thai ladies I saw every day in Bangkok. She had on a rather short, simple skirt of light material and a white knit cotton spaghetti-strapped top that left just a hint of skin exposed between her top and skirt. Fleshed colored hose, a gold anklet on her right ankle, and open-toed white heels finished the effect that hovered between innocence and sexy seduction.
There was little innocent about her manner as she reached behind my head and pressed my face against the cage’s bars. She said, “I have a surprise for you tonight. We are going to a private little party. A couple of friends of mine invited me over. I have not seen them since I started this new line of work. I would not want to miss seeing them, but of course I did not want to cancel our session. You are coming with”.
Mistress managed to get my already rock hard penis into a harness and inserted a plug into my anus. The plug could vibrate at the command of a remote control, which Mistress placed in her purse. On the drive over I learned that her two friends had gone to school together with Mistress at the university. One had graduated with Mistress and was now working in an office. The other was still finishing her last year of studies. Of course I was ordered to follow my Mistress’s every command. She ordered me to act like her new foreign boyfriend until she told me otherwise.
When we arrived only Miss Tan, the student, was home. Miss Buu, the office worker, had called in and was stuck in traffic. She would be arriving home soon. Miss Tan was adorable looking. She had just gotten back from studying, and was still dressed in her university uniform white blouse and black skirt. Like many of the modern students, her blouse was very tight over her small, firm breasts, and her skirt was very short. She was barefoot, but I could picture her lovely feet in any one of the many pairs of shoes that were left just outside the apartment’s door.
Miss Tan brought Mistress and me a beer. We sat chatting, getting acquainted and waiting for Miss Buu to return home. Miss Tan sat opposite me. Her short skirt had ridden high up her thighs, but like all Thai ladies I had ever noticed she somehow sat modestly, not exposing herself. She was not exposed, but my imagination was running wild.
As we engaged in the usual getting to know you chitchat, Mistress would occasionally engage the vibrator’s remote. She did it, inevitably, while I was speaking. My voice would crack, as I tried to adjust to the sensation. I wondered what Miss Tan made of it.
We had almost finished our first beers when Miss Buu arrived. She, too, was remarkably cute. She was dressed in a short, but suitable for an office, gray skirt, a light blue blouse and black hose. I could not help staring as she slipped off her black pumps at the doorway and revealed her perfect little feet, with the hose’s reinforced toes and heels. Mistress, knowing how much I loved feet, knew exactly what I was thinking. Just as she was introducing me as her “special” boyfriend Henry she turned the vibrator on high. I somehow expected that, and was able to return Miss Buu’s greeting without undue embarrassment.
(tale # 16) get full text ... Ripe blonde nude outdoor.
Dressed in pantyhoses.
Christine looked at herself in the mirror. Her pretty face was the color of creme, her tears streaming around the gentle curve of her chin and dripping onto the porcelain sink. Why was she made to suffer so much humiliation, she thought to herself. Before she had a chance to answer herself mentally, however, the bathroom door burst open and James strode in.
"You cheating cunt," James shouted, "I'm not finished talking to you! Did you think you'd get away with it forever?" His broad shoulders heaved with anxiety, and his charcoal-black hair hung in his face, a few strands plastered to his brow by the spreading perspiration.
"James, please! I don't know what you're talking about!"
"The fuck you don't! I -saw- you out my window, you with your piss-colored cotton shirt laying next to you, your black skirt up around your slutting hips, and your pretty fucking pink panties around your fucking ankle!" His face was turning crimson, and his eyes bore into hers like daggers. "You were letting that nigger guy pound your pussy, right out in the open where I could see!"
At this, she could feel her dam of hatred burst. "I don't know what the -fuck- you're talking about, Jimmy! I've been in classes all day, and the only time I've had to fuck -anyone- was you at lunchtime!" She stopped to take a frantic breath, matching James's stare as she continued, her grey-green eyes burning holes into his. "If you think I would -ever- be a little whore like that to anyone but you, then you can go fuck yourself!"
Before James could respond, she pushed past him and ran out of the bathroom, out of their dorm room, and down the hall. She was only acutely aware of the tears that were streaming down her face as she pushed past the few people who were chumming around the building's exit. She ran for what seemed like hours, crossing the commons and not stopping until she reached the edge of the far fields. Finally, exhausted both mentally and physically, she sat down at one of the few picnic benches nearby, lowered her head onto the formica surface, and sobbed into her arms.
Only a few moments later, she could hear someone approaching from behind. Not about to take any chances, she tensed herself for the impending attack. She kept her head in her arms, listening to the soft footsteps as they neared her... Slower, slower still, and finally stopped. She swallowed back a lump in her throat, and nearly lost her mind when she felt a hand grasp her shoulder. Screaming, she leapt up as though a tiger on the offensive, lashing out with a hard slap. "Don't you touch me!"
The figure recoiled as the smack resounded over the empty field. "Ow, Jesus! It's me!" he cried out, but to no avail, as she was drawing her hand back for another slap. He managed to grab her wrist before she could launch her attack, and forced her head up to look at him. As their eyes made contact, he shouted again. "It's me! It's Pete! Get ahold of yourself, doll!"
Realizing that it's not her boyfriend, her rage turns to vulnerability as she wraps her arms around him, sobbing freely into his chest. He almost laughes as she does this, not quite knowing how to react. Choking back his natural reaction, he lets his arms fall freely around her, holding her against him. "Shh... It's alright. Whatever happens, I'm here now."
(tale # 17) get full text ... Dressed in pantyhoses.
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