Sunday, September 2, 2012

Oh Boy - Thinking Again!

Must  say - Belinda gets me to thinking.  Can't say I'm surprised by the fact that there's a larger percentage of you guys in the middle aged bracket happy with how you are - let's face it - you're still enjoying sex - and the idea of giving it up for 'something' else?  Ugh!  Us older guys have got realistic enough to accept the fact that we are what we are?

But I had to take issue with that statement that we love some feminine things?  Close examination of myself, says that this is completely wrong.  I'm a male submissive seeking 'punishment'.  Being punished takes one form - to be dressed-- and to act -- like a female.  Now, somewhere, I read that it's human nature to wear the clothes of the powerful - and this has always puzzled me - I want to be humiliated by being made to wear powerful clothes?

There's something daft in there somewhere.  The only reasoning I can come up with is the fact that the clothes that I'm forced to wear are either those of the subservient class (Maids or sluts) - with a major exception being a wedding gown.  In that case I can only say that I DO love white wedding gowns and the thought of wearing one STILL makes me weak in the knees - but like I say?  I'm daft to begin with.

But I know that I'm mainly correct.  We've recently been watching re-runs of the "Prime Suspect" series with Helen Mirren.  She always wears tailored skirt suits with 'V' necked blouses - usually silk I think.  I admire her looks a LOT.   But do I ever think of being dressed in a tailored skirt and blouse?  Don't think so.

I was a prolific writer.  Published more than 100 short stories and over 60 novelettes.  Can't remember them all - but am pretty damn positive that I was never made to wear clothes similar to the women that dommed me.  So maybe my punishment is to be forced into a different 'class'?

So - like I say, Belinda?  You got me thinking again.

BTW?  Hi Mandee.  Long time - huh?

Here's one of my shorter stories.  I discovered it when I put my last book of short stories together for publication.  It was originally one of my custom stories that I did for an excellent customer (Michelle) who liked big women.  (I used to write them - not for publication - but Michelle gave me permission, so don't think she'd object).  A wee bit different than my normal.  Hope that you enjoy it.


THIRTY HOURS CAN CHANGE A GUY


I remember laughing when I read somewhere that God gave man a brain and a prick – but only enough blood to run one at a time.  I'm not laughing now.
I had a raging hardon that night – you know, the ones that won't go away and you're out of your mind needing a piece of ass SO bad – but not about to waste your urge into your fist?  That's how it was.
I'd called Sheila, my last port of call if I wanted any action from her – she's so goddam tiny for Chrissake – maybe smaller than me even – but my very first call when the mood is on me – she's the best little procuress you'll ever want to meet.  She's got no acting talent at all, but I'm able to pull a little commercial for her now and then, maybe even a one liner in some play that I know is gonna float like a rock – but she gets around.  I mean it – she has got me some of the finest pieces of ass that I could ever dream of.  Like her, they're usually stage struck and dealing with a talent agent like me?  Drop their panties in a rush. I especially like the big blondes.  Gives me a great rush when they put out.
Anyway, I'd called her and, naturally, she wasn't there.  I left a message in hopes that she'd check her answering machine – all those star-struck broads are always checking their machines – just in case some big agent has called with a starring role – you know, dumb bitches.  Then, I started working through my little black book – but was not having any luck to speak of.  I went and poured myself a hefty drink.  I'd already had one or two so there was no chance I'd be driving that night – it would have to be a taxi – I got too many DUI's in my file as it is.
The clock had just struck nine, and I'd just poured my bourbon over the ice when my phone rang.  I hurried over and picked it up.
"Mr Dean?  Mike?"  It was Sheila!
"Yeah!  Get my message sweetie?"
"No Mr. Dean.  What message?"
"Ah shit!  I was hoping you could fix me up for tonight – there's a commercial spot coming up next week and I thought – well, you know.  You scratch my back?  I scratch yours."
Her voice brightened.  "Ooooh!  Lovely!  I do love the money from commercials – they keep me going until a big role comes along.  But Mr. Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm calling from the bar 'Gerry's'' just round the corner from you?  I've got a girl here   . ." she tittered.  "Well, I say girl, but you know . ."
"No, I don't know.  What the Christ you talkin' about?"
"Well, she's kinda big – and kinda mannish . ."
"Jesus Sheila!  I don't dig dykes!  What're you wasting my time for?"  I was getting furious.
"I didn't say she was a dyke, Mr, Dean.  She hasn't come on to me, at least not yet.  It's just . ."
"Just what!  Will you spit it out?" I snapped.
"She was telling me how she liked . ." she was searching for words now . ." smaller men, and I happened to mention that you often liked the company of big women.  She wanted to get in touch with you."
 My erection must have grown by at least an inch.  Okay, don't laugh.  My dick may be small, but it's in perfect proportion to my body – and it WORKS!  Well, maybe it doesn't really thrill a lot of the women I hump – but if they want an active stage career?  They sure as hell better be able to act like they're thrilled out of their goddam minds while I'm banging them – and the feeling of power I always get when I'm on top of a really BIG broad?  Incredible!.
"Ah Sheila, you little doll!" I breathed into the phone.  "Sorry if I yelled at you."
"But Mr. Dean?  I'm just not sure if she's really your type – kinda tough and crude."
"Think I can't handle her?" I laughed.  "I may be small, but I work out (Okay, I lied).  She gives me any of that tough broad shit?  I'll knock her on her ass!"
I looked at my watch.  "Let me grab a quick shave.  Why don't you buy the both of you a drink and put it on my tab.  I'll be down there in fifteen minutes, tops."
She started to interrupt me while I said this, but must have thought better of it.  When I'd finished, she said tentatively.  "Mike?  She doesn't know I'm calling you right at this moment.  I'm doing it secretly, because I'm not really sure you'll like  . ."
"Sheila?  Listen to me!  I'll be down there in fifteen minutes . ."
"Mike!  I'm sorry.  I have to leave.  And Cindy wants to come up to your place!  I just didn't want to send her up without warning you . ."
"Christ Sheila, why didn't you SAY so!  Give her directions and send her up!" I yelled.  "Tell her I'll ring her in from the front door when she buzzes me.  Tell her to give me fifteen minutes, okay?"
"Okay Mr. Dean.  But Mike?"
"WHAT?"
"Don't say I didn't try and warn you.  Bye."  She hung up. 
I had a strange feeling – almost as if the little bitch was laughing to herself, but my hardon was taking all of my attention at that particular moment.  I let out a happy curse and hung up myself, but as I rushed into the bathroom I had a strange premonition . . . . but ignored it of course.
I realized that I was in no shape to go out drinking and hell, why should I?  Big broad visiting me likes small men.  Me small and  like BIG woman!  Why bother going out when willing snatch is coming to your door of its own accord, huh?  Tell me that.
I shaved quickly – didn't have time to shower.  Applied a little Klein aftershave, then changed in to my very best Armani silk pajamas and cool dressing gown.  Even put on my fleece lined slippers.  Readied the bar with an ice bucket and booze – some mixes. You know the routine, right?  The buzzer sounded.  "Yeah?"  I breathed sexily into the intercom.
"Gonna open the fuckin' door or breathe in my ear all night?" A deep voice said.
I coughed.  "Cindy?"
"Nah, it's fuckin Santa Clause!  Open the fuckin' door!"
She scared me.  Right off the bat, she scared me.  I actually started to pant with fright and although my finger was right on the buzzer to activate the lock, I paused.  Maybe I should make up some excuse?
"Would you HURRY up!" she snarled – and my finger pressed the buzzer.
I knew it wouldn't do any good to pretend I wasn't home now. I thought desperately that if I didn't answer the door she might think she didn't know the apartment number – but hell, the buzzer at the entry had my apartment number right beside it – and I'd answered on the intercom.  I'd just have to tell her that something had come up – a dead grandmother or something.  I thought it best to open the door – at least make it look as if I was welcoming her.
She was coming down the hallway as I opened the door – a damn fine looking woman was my first impression and my erection, that had gone pretty flaccid, jumped into action again.
I don't know what I'd been expecting – some travesty of a man.  Big and brawny, short haircut – dark hair probably.  Man's watch.  Flat shoes – you know the drill.
Okay, I've always been a sucker for big women, and she more than filled that description.  Had to be well over six feet  - even without the spike heels she wore.  Was wearing a floral dress too – full skirt.  Sleeveless top.  Blonde hair curling around her face.  Perfectly proportioned woman.  Her tits had to be humungous – but on her?  They simply looked great!  She was even carrying a big handbag – and who ever heard of a bull dyke carrying a handbag, huh?
"Hi – you little cutie!" she called when she was still about ten feet away.  "Wow!  I guess your friend Sheila was dead on!  Mmmm!" 
Right away, I was reminded of my initial fear.  She was in proportion all right – even her voice was big – but she was coming down the hall at me like a goddam destroyer – and I felt like nothing else than a  tiny rowboat!
I tried a smile – a brave one.  "Cindy?  I'm sorry – but something's come up.  I can't  . . ."
I wasn't prepared for her.  Expected her to slow down.  Expected her to listen to me for Chrissake!  Was stupid enough to inwardly expect some of the deference that Sheila's friends normally gave me.  No, I got nothing like I expected.  Found myself letting out a frightened squeal as she literally picked me up into a pair of strong arms and crushed me in a warm embrace.  Then her hand was on my erection.  She laughed. "Wow!  I didn't know they came this small!  But I can see what you mean when you say that something's come UP!"  She roared with laughter, swept me into my apartment and kicked the door shut behind her.
I was still up in the air, easily held by her in one arm as she surveyed my place.  "Oh – what a lovely place you have here!" she said.  "Do all the housework yourself?"
"No Cindy.  I have a girl comes in . . But please, if you'll put me down?  Maybe I can pour you a drink?"
It was as if I hadn't spoken.  "Where you keep your beer?" she growled.  "Got a thirst!"
"In the fridge over there in the kitchen." I said, pointing with my head – my arms were still pinned to my side.
In what seemed like three strides she'd carried me to the fridge.  She opened the door so that everything inside rattled, pulled out a bottle of beer, put it on a counter, shut the fridge door, opened the bottle – and inhaled the contents in one big gulp.  Belched loudly.  "That's better!" she said – and threw the bottle into the box where I keep recyclables.  Then, I was being carried back into my sitting room.  There, she cradled me in her arms, then simply sat down into one of my easy chairs with a crash.  "You were saying?" she asked.
"About what, Cindy?" I replied.
"About something coming up, you silly little bimbo!" she giggled.
"Oh yes!  I'm sorry.  My grandmother just died . ."
"Aw!  What a shame!  Gotta go there right away.  That it?"
"Yes.  You see . ."
"I'll let you go – in a minute or two."  Her huge hand was now resting gently on my erection and my prick jerked.  She kissed me, firmly on the lips and my prick jerked some more.  "Mmmm" she hummed, pulling her head back. "You like big strong women, huh?  Sheila said you did."
I could only stare up at her, dazed as her hand gently stroked my groin, then her hand went away and untied my robe sash, so that it fell open. "Love your jammies – but aren't they awfully masculine?" she said in a high pitched voice, imitating a fairy.  "And I don't think the color's right at all!  Pink would be a LOT better!" she continued, unbuttoning the jacket of my pajamas.  "And you're so soft and smooth!" she said, caressing my front.  "Not much in the way of tits though, huh?"  Then she was gently tugging my pajama pants down.  "And look at this pretty little rosebud here!" she giggled, giving my erection a feather light touch, before pulling my pants back up into place again.
"Please Cindy?  Please stop," I pleaded almost weeping at being treated in this way.
"Mike!  That IS your name, huh?" she asked.
"Yes.  Why?"
"Just wondered.  Thought you sounded more like a Michelle there.  Please Cindy – stop!" she mocked me. "You make me SO randy when you talk like a girl!  Go on.  Ask me to stop again. Nice and soft – just like a girl.  C'mon!"
"No!" I said indignantly.
"Hey!  Ask me nice?  I might leave you alone.  Okay?"  Her hand was on my prick again.
"Promise?" I said softly.
"Sure doll.  I promise." She kissed me.
"Please stop Cindy," I said as girlishly as I could.
"Stop what?"
"Treating me like a girl."
"But?  You're soft and smooth like a girl.  Your underarms are all shaved and . ."
"They are NOT!" I replied vehemently.
"Ah well, that can be fixed later on.  But as I was saying?  You feel like a girl – and act like a girl – you even smell like a girl – and what's your name again?"
"MIKE!"
Her hand tightened painfully around my upper arm and squeezed.  "Sorry doll – didn't hear you.  What's your name again?"  She squeezed some more – it was very painful.
"Michelle," I said.
"You gonna be my girl Michelle?"  her grip on my arm had eased a little, but was still there.
"Oh yes," I said submissively – and her hand moved away.
She kissed me again, then "You know Michelle?  I can guess what's making it difficult for you to accept being my girl.  Wanna know what it is?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
"It's this tiny matchstick prick of yours," she said, taking my erection between her thumb and forefinger. "Takes your mind off things.  Well I've got an idea . ."  With that, she began to massage me slowly and gently. "Do you like this?" she breathed.
"Yes," I breathed back, honestly.
"Mmmm.  Thought you might," she said – and kissed me again, this time forcing her tongue down into my mouth while speeding up the rhythm of her caressing fingers.  I let out some muffled squeaks of protest, but under her assault, grew weak – then finally succumbed, ejaculating all over the front of my pajamas.
"Now look what you've done, you silly little thing.  Gone and made yourself all squishy!" she cooed.  "But where's your bedroom sweet thing?  Let's go and get you changed, huh?"
With that, she picked me up under one arm and carried me back out of the sitting room and down the hall until she found my bedroom.  "So where do you keep your lingerie?" she asked.
"I don't have any lingerie Cindy!" I wailed.  "I'm a guy for Chrissake!"
By this time, I was face down and I'd lost  my pajama jacket, my robe and even my slippers:  was totally unready for the way she twirled me around and gave me a few hard spanks on my practically unprotected rear.  "That language is NOT ladylike!" she yelled.  "Won't have my girls spouting off bad language!  Now, you sorry?"  With that, she gave me another spank.
"Yes Cindy," I cried – some tears rolling down my cheeks.   "I'm sorry."
"That's better,  Sorry I had to punish you – but it was for your own good.  What would my friends think of you if they heard you talking like that?  They'd think you were some kind of slut"  She paused. "Now what's all this nonsense about a pretty little thing like you not having any sexy lingerie?"
"I'm sorry Cindy.  I don't HAVE any lingerie.  I'm sorry!" I wept – openly crying now.
"Well, let's just have a look-see," she said and, still holding me carelessly under one arm, opened up my sliding closet doors.  She muttered impatiently then swore.  Carried me over to my chest of drawers and started pulling out each drawer in turn, getting angrier and angrier as each drawer just revealed male clothing.  She started chucking out the contents all over the floor.  Then she let out a whoop!  "What's this?  You lying to me girlie?"  And she was holding up a pair of lime green satin baby dolls, trimmed with white lace.
"No Cindy!  I wasn't lying – honest!  They belong to an old girlfriend of mine that used to sleep over now and then.  She hasn't been to see me in a long time and I'd forgotten I even had them – honest!  They'd be far too big for me!  Just look at them!"  I was panting with fear.
"Well, put them on anyway!  Better than nothing.  But the next time I come visit?  You'd better be dressed properly and ready for me!"
"Oh, I will!  I WILL!" I jabbered quickly sliding my pajama pants off and putting on the top and bottoms of the baby dolls as quickly as I could.  She started to laugh.  "Yeah!  Gotta admit it – they're kinda big for you.  Next time I see you in nice girly clothes?  They'd better fit!"
Then once again, I was swept up off my feet and cradled in her arms, with her smiling down at me and gently tickling my cheek with a large finger.   "I'm really sorry for laughing at you Michelle – I know how hurt a girl can get when her guy laughs at her – but you really don't look that awful.  Just wait.  Get a little lipstick and a touch of mascara – maybe a little blush on you?  You'll look like a million, baby – so lets see what Cindy can do for you, huh?"
And then, sitting on her knee, I was made up – with the cosmetics she'd just mentioned – but it wasn't that that transfixed me – it was the humungous dildo she'd pulled out of her bag when she'd been getting the cosmetics out and laid on the couch beside us.  She saw me looking at it.
"Isn't it a beaut? " she said.  "Best prick I've ever had.  You're gonna just LOVE it."
"Please Cindy?" I said weakly.
"No.  You're just gonna have to wait for a little while darling!  Can't get it just yet.  I know you're thrilled to bits.  Just can't keep your eyes off it, can you?"
She'd deliberately misunderstood me, I thought but was I going to point this out?  NOT! And she was absolutely correct in one regard – I couldn't stop looking at it.  It was HUGE.   Almost 'U' shaped.  "Fits inside me – custom built.  Makes me just orgasm all OVER the place," she giggled.  "But before we can have any fun?  I have to explain the facts of life to you.  Just so's you don't make any more mistakes.  Got it?"
I could only stare at the obscene thing, so she dandled me on her knee.  "First thing Michelle?  I don't care if you want to pretend you're a guy in front of other people.  But around me?  You're gonna be my girl.  Got it?"
I knew enough to nod.
"Good.  That means that when I come visit you?  You'll be dressed proper.  Pretty baby dolls – and I just love  the idea of you wearing those little shorty matching peignoirs.  High heels?  Naturally.  Make up – same.  And I want your lipstick always to be really, really RED!  None of that fashionable earth tone shit that a lot of you girls seem to like.  Lots of it too!  Same goes for your nail polish – it had better match those red lips of yours.  Perfume?  Absolutely.  I like Elizabeth Taylor's White Shoulders.  Get your hair done – shave under your arms.  That's about it.  Any questions?"
I shook my head. She gave me a wide smile.
"Good.  Now down on your knees Michelle.  That's a girl!"
Kneeling down on the carpet made me feel even smaller in comparison with her, but when she stood up and felt up underneath her skirt and pulled her panties down and off, it became even more noticeable and I could feel the heat coming from her – and smell the strong musky female odor she was already giving off as she put the dildo up under her skirt and adjusted it up into position.
"AAAAH!" she sighed, and her eyes glazed a little.  Then she lifted her skirts to show the huge thing projecting up from her groin.  She took it in her hand and pointed it at me.  "Time to say hello to BIG Cindy, Michelle.  Why don't you give him a BIG kiss, huh?"  And the tip of the dildo was practically in my face!
I was too slow.  "A little more enthusiasm Michelle – if you please?" she said, giving me a cuff on the back of the head, then pulling my head in towards her.  I gave it a tentative little kiss.  Damned if the ugly thing didn't feel warm – almost like real flesh.
"That's better – but take him in your mouth now, darling.  Get these ruby red lips of yours on it.  YESSS!  That's a girl!"
Then, she had a hold of me by the ears!  Pulling my head DOWN!  Pushing it UP – then down, then up – and over and over again.  Her scent got overpowering – and then it totally enveloped me – and I knew she'd orgasmed!
"Oh OH OH Oh OH !" she yelled.  "You give SUCH a great blow job! My little doll – with the mouth like a vacuum cleaner!"  With that, she reached under her skirt and tugged the dildo out from herself.  "Now?  Clean me off with your educated tongue – girlie!" she commanded, and draped her skirt down over my head, while pulling my face right into her pussy.
I almost fainted with a combination of the smell  and the heat.  Knelt there, helpless, in my frilly baby dolls and makeup while the giantess undulated and screamed under the control of my tongue – licking up her cum. It tasted kinda salty – with a hint of pepper?  I don't know.  But she wasn't satisfied until I'd cleaned her off completely.  Then she pulled her skirt up, inserted her dildo and, with eyes squinting, looked into mine said.  "That was GREAT doll – let's do it again!"
Submissively, I started opening my mouth but she reached into her handbag and pulled something out.  "Here doll, " she said.  "Before we do?  Fix your lipstick – put LOTS on!  I want to see Big Cindy coated with it before the night's over!"
And, kneeling submissively in front of this huge dominatrix, I used the compact mirror she'd given me and carefully applied a thick coating of bright red to my lips.  Seconds later, my lips were sliding down the huge thing while she panted and undulated above me.  This time, she demanded that I make happy little sounds all the time – and when she yanked my head back?  God help me if I didn't smile back at her.
I must have fallen asleep after that one.  The combination of the booze I'd imbibed earlier on, being masturbated – then having to perform fellatio on such a demanding partner?  Was too much for me, I guess.
I woke with a start.  She was looking down at me as I laid there in my crumpled feminine pajamas, my makeup smeared and my eyes bleary.
"Not bad Michelle!  For a beginner?  You weren't bad at all.  But you haven't forgotten how to  be ready for me, the next time I come to visit – have you?"
I had absolutely NO idea of what she was talking about – but some sense of self preservation made me nod.
She smiled. "Let's do it again, huh?"
She took me to bed after we'd done it a few more times. I lay there, exhausted, nestled in her big arm, while she caressed the top of my baby dolls.  "Now, tomorrow doll?  I want you to go buy a few pairs of pretty baby dolls, matching peignoirs – and at least two pairs of high heel slippers.  Buy the perfume I told you about – and get some makeup.  That's what you'll wear every night from now on.  Okay?"
I was exhausted and certainly not about to create any problems for myself.  "Yes Cindy.  Okay," I said obediently.  She nodded, and I fell asleep.
She was gone the following morning and I'd absolutely no memory of her wakening me while she'd got ready to leave.  To tell the truth?  I woke up feeling very warm and comfortable.  Then I saw it – her huge dildo lying on the bedside table  Beside it was a note;  Nervously, I opened it:
Hi doll:
Thought I'd leave Big Cindy with you – give you a chance to get to know each other better.  You could maybe give him a wash?  Get all your lipstick marks off him?  But once you DO get him clean?  Don't be a naughty girl and start in to kissing him all over again!
But just thought I'd mention it.  Tonight, when I come to visit?  How'd you like to answer the door (wearing your new baby dolls?) and cuddling Big Cindy at the same time – and I'd really like to see you with him in your mouth when I come in through the door.  How's about it, huh?
Cindy
Terrified suddenly, I jumped out of bed, tore off my offending nightwear and threw it in a corner then went and showered, scrubbing my face clear of the goddam makeup.  Got dressed and made a bowl of cereal for myself.  Sat and pondered what my next plan of action was going to be.  Came to the conclusion that the only course of action I had was to call the cops for protection.  It was going to be embarrassing, that was a certainty – but I couldn't run away.  I needed my business to support me.  Not only that, I was kinda strapped for ready cash, and even though my credit card wasn't close to being maxed out I was in no position to rely on it for any length of time..
I had just finished washing and drying the ugly dildo when the phone rang.  I almost didn't answer it, frightened that it might be Cindy, but it quickly dawned on me that there was no way I could leave calls unanswered – a message machine is okay once in a while – but in my business, personal contact is everything.  It was Sheila.
"Hi Mike!" she said cheerily.  "Have a good time last night?"
She sounded a lot more confident, less deferential, than usual.  "None of your goddam business!" I snapped.
She actually made a reproving tutt-tutt sound over the phone!  "Now why do I have the feeling that Cindy wouldn't like to hear language like that from you, huh?  She was just saying a half hour ago, what a little doll you were!"
I found myself coughing nervously. "Ha Ha Sheila!  Cindy was such a character!  How did you come to meet her?  She's not an actress, is she?"
Sheila let out a laugh.  "Actress?  That big horse?  No, she's a cop!"
"A cop?"  I gasped.  "What are you doing with a cop?"
"Well, if you must know?  She's in Vice – and it seems that they've been looking into my background . ."
"Your background?  What in hell's name are you talking about?"
"Well?  To tell the truth, you're not the only guy I do favors for.  I mean, I'm not a madam for goodness sake – just help lonely guys find dates.  Nothing much more than that – but anyway, Cindy showed up and started asking me a bunch of questions . ."
"And you told her about ME?  You stupid bitch!" I yelled.
"Mike?  What will Cindy say if I tell her I called you up to see if you needed a hand to do some shopping – and you swore at me?"
I swallowed – hard.  "Shopping?  What are you talking about?"
There was nothing meek about Sheila now.  Far from it.  She giggled.  "Shopping?  I just thought you might need some help – if you were gonna buy anything you weren't used to buying . . know what I mean?"
She knew! Knew what Cindy had demanded of me!  And ditsy little Sheila was laughing at me!
"Don't know what you mean Sheila – and I got to go.  See yah!"  I growled and put the phone down, but as I did so, heard her laugh and say "Suit yourself, sweetie"
I was in a dither – I couldn't call the cops now, could I?  Cindy WAS one, for Chrissake!  Suppose she found out – and she probably would!  Oh shit!  Not only that – had she told Sheila about what had happened last night?  Probably had, by the sound of Sheila's voice.  Maybe I should call her back?  Maybe offer her a bigger part next time around? I started to sweat and decided that I had to get out of the apartment.  Locked up and went and got my car – just to drive around for a while and see if I could get my head back together.
I was driving along a deserted stretch of road.  Certainly wasn't close to speeding, but will admit that my mind wasn't on my driving.  Almost put the car off the road when lights came on in my rear view mirror and a  WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP ! of a siren came through loud and clear.  Then a magnified voice.  "PULL OVER SIR!  IF YOU PERSIST IN TRYING TO EVADE US WE WILL SHOOT!"  I hadn't even seen the cop car behind me.  God knows how long they'd been there – but what was this shit about shooting?  Quickly, I pulled over on to the soft shoulder.
I saw the two huge cops get out of their car and approach, one on each side of my car.  Then I realized that Cindy was the one coming down my passenger side – and another big woman – a brunette – was coming at me.  I rolled down my window.  "Yes officer?" I said.
"License and registration sir." she said sternly.
Nervously, I pulled out my wallet and took my license out.  Got my registration out from the console.  Passed both to her.  She studied them for a second then handed them back.  "Did you know that trying to evade a police officer is a felony sir?"
"Officer?  I don't know what you're talking about!"  I tried to be firm, but my voice was trembling.
"Get outta the car!" she snarled.  "You realize you've got outstanding warrants?  Outta there!"  She yanked my door open, grabbed me by the collar and hauled me out. "Take the position!" she snapped.
I didn't know what she meant, but found myself, legs apart and leaning forward onto my car.  She started frisking me, but her hands were very slow and suggestive – practically caressing my breasts, sliding up and down the inside of my thighs.
"Am I mistaken or did you say you were a man?" she cooed suddenly.  "You feel so nice and soft.  Don't work out much, do you?"
"Please stop, officer." I said weakly.
"Want me to stop this and start processing your papers?  DUI'S and outstanding warrants?  Trying to evade us when we put the lights on you?  That what you want, huh?  Do some jail time with some big, hairy, studs?"
"No sir.  Please."
"Or?  Would you rather please me, huh?  Cindy swears that you have a very soft mouth?  Give great head?"
When I started to cry, she pulled me back upright and turned me around.  Opened the passenger door to my car and gently pushed me back to sit in it. "Here you are girlie.  Why don't you make yourself pretty for me, while I get ready, huh?" and she handed me a lipstick tube and a compact.
While I applied my lipstick, she undid the front of her pants and inserted a dildo into herself..  "Finished?" she asked as I closed the compact.  I nodded.
Cindy had never said a word the whole time.  Now she leaned over the opened car door and watched me intently as I worked my mouth up and down on her partners dildo.
Both women laughed uproariously as I gagged when some sort of ejaculate streamed out of the false penis into my mouth.  "Swallow it honey.  May as well learn now," were the first words Cindy spoke.  But they weren't the last.
Her partner took my keys and drove away in my car – it was to be impounded, I was told.  Then Cindy put a pair of plastic restraint cuffs on me and threw me in the back of her car.  At that point, she started to speak again.
"You've been a very naughty girl Michelle.  You know that, don't you?  Weren't gonna do what I asked you to do, were you?"
"I was thinking about it," I whined.
"Bullshit!  You were looking for ways out, weren't you.  Admit it!"
"Yes Cindy, I was.  I'm sorry."
"That's better!  Tell the truth and shame the devil, that's what I always say.  But now you have a choice to make.  Do I take you to the station and process you?  DUI'S.  Outstanding warrants.  Attempts to evade arrest.  Consorting with a known prostitute ring?  OR?" She paused.
"Or what, Cindy?" I asked meekly.
"Start behaving!  Be my girl.  Make up your mind.  What's it gonna be?"
"Be your girl?"
"Positive?"
"Yes."
Okay Michelle.  Time to put up or shut up.  Kneel up on the seat there.."
The restraints made it awkward and it took me a little while, and I didn't see what she was doing behind me.  But then her hands were around my waist, and she was undoing my pants!  Then she yanked them, and my underpants down! 
"Now lean forward onto your hands as much as you can," she said and, as I did so, I suddenly felt her work some glop into my asshole. It wasn't until that moment that I knew what she had in mind.
"NO!" I screamed, but her arms were around my waist, forcing me into the position she wanted, and the tip of her dildo was entering me – slowly, but inexorably.
"Shut UP Michelle," she laughed.  "If you relax – you'll learn to enjoy this.  I'm only using a smaller dildo on you just now – just breaking you in so's you'll enjoy Big Cindy later on!"
And there, in broad daylight, she humped me – and even though a few cars drove by in both directions, I don't know if anyone saw anything amiss.  The dildo hurt for a while, but then became  - not pleasant – but not altogether terrible.  To my shame, I started to undulate under her and, squealing loudly, ejaculated all over my shirt front.
She withdrew from me shortly after that and then after she'd removed her dildo and rearranged her uniform, flipped me over so that I was lying on my back.  Carelessly, she tidied me up a little, pulling my clothes back into position, then she propped me in a sitting position.  In the glass windows I could see a faint reflection – and I was a MESS!  Hair all over the place, lipstick smeared all over my mouth.  Tear tracks down my cheeks.  Then Looking down, I could see the front of my shirt, with the stain of my semen already drying into a crinkled mess.
Cindy didn't say much, just drove.  She pulled into a small strip mall and pulled up in front of "Helen's Beauty Salon" and stopped the car.  Came around and opened my door – then simply reached in, grabbed me, and carrying me with one arm, took me into the beauty shop.
"Hi girls!"  She boomed out.  "Meet Michelle.  May not look like it just now – but she'll be pretty when you're done with her, right?"
The big blonde working on a customer's hair smiled.  "Of course Cindy."  She turned to three young girls, all wearing blue satin smocks.  "Okay girls – get to work!"  Giggling, they put down their magazines and approached me.
"Hi Michelle!" the said in chorus. Then one of them spoke to Cindy.  "What have you been doing to this poor thing?  His shirt's all icky  . ."
"And his lipsticks all messed up." Another chimed in.
"C'mon honey, we'll get you all fixed up.  Just wait and see!" the third one said. as the three of them surrounded me – and basically shepherded me away from the front door, down into the beauty shop proper. 
"Please?" I whispered as soon as we were far enough away from Cindy.  "I don't really want this."
"That's because you've no idea how pretty you'll be when we're finished with you.  Right girls?" one said.
And the other two giggled their assent as they easily overcame my weak attempt to break away from them. "Oh stop it, you little weakling.  Want us to spank you?"  One would say and another would add – "Oh don't spank him.  Little sissies cry and we'll have a terrible time making him pretty if his eyes are all red and swollen."
One did put me over her knees and gave me a few sharp swats because I made an objection to wearing a bra and panties.  By that time, I'd lost all of my hair, except that on top of my head – and a little patch of pubic hair – that had been dyed pink – and trimmed into the shape of a heart (And how they'd teased me at the size of my penis!).  They'd brought a few bras in from a boutique next door and made me try them on until one seemed to fit better than the rest.  Then they'd used it to position the breast forms that Cindy had seemingly picked out for me – and then affixed them to my hairless chest with a special adhesive.
Two of them then held me down while the third masturbated me into her hand – they didn't want me deforming the looks of my new panties with an erection – then, she made me lick her hand clean.  I started to cry about having to wear the bra and panties then (though to be honest, I was just crying at the total humiliation I was undergoing) and was promptly laid over a pair of knees and after being warned that if I cried any more?  I'd REALLY get something to cry for.  From then on, I was a good little girl.
At least, that was what they called me. That – or Michelle – as I went from one transforming routine to the next.  My pony tail chopped off, and my hair permed into a bouffant pouffe (and blonde at that).  My eyebrows plucked and flared.  My ears pierced – FOUR times on each ear?
The pedicure hurt – no question about it – but I finished up with five tiny rubies on each foot –a perfect match to the acrylic talons on my fingers.
And, as I sat under the hair dryer next to some other girls (real ones) in my bra and panties under the blue satin smock, and leafed through an old issue of Cosmopolitan, there wasn't the slightest hint that the rather petulant looking girl looking back at me from the mirror had ever thought that she was a man.
After that, they took me in front of a makeup station and trained me on the application of cosmetics – creaming off each and every one of my aborted attempts until they were satisfied that I could apply makeup like a veteran.  Then, the rollers were taken off my head, and my hair was brushed out.  They were not teasing me now about being Michelle.  I WAS Michelle, and there was no denying it. A rather pretty little, fluffy, blonde with pouting, kissable, lips.
And, if you're dressed like a girl – and LOOK like a girl?  How'd you think you're gonna act when you're led into a boutique to buy clothes, huh?  Like macho man?  Like a STUD?  Forget it dear.  You're going to act just like I did – a soft, compliant, girl.
The salesgirl assigned to me knew of course, but she was nice.  Honestly.  I knew I had to pick out baby dolls – and truthfully?  I was pathetically keen to do this – scared of Cindy, the way I was.  But I had a little difficulty in buying the concept of a whole wardrobe.  Probably fussed a little too much as the girl finally put a comforting arm around my shoulder and led me to stand in front of a mirror.
"Michelle?" she said, kindly enough.  "What kind of clothes do you think you should be wearing?"
I sighed.  She was right.  Bought some pretty lingerie, some skirts, blouses, dresses.  What was the point in fighting it?  I was puzzled by one outfit she pressed on me – scarlet satin dress, tight to the body, very revealing at the bust line.  With it, she strongly  recommended that I wear a pair of bun-enhancing  briefs. "You have a very natural protruding backside," she said tactfully "But this should help a little."
Frankly?  I thought it looked kinda sluttish – but I'd pretty well given up on complaining that day.  All it seemed to get me was a sore ass.  So, from somewhere, my credit card appeared.  I blanched when I saw the total that had been charged for my makeover and my new wardrobe, but signed anyway.
I should say that I was embarrassed when Sheila appeared, smirking, to be the one who drove me home – but I wasn't.  I was too damned humiliated out – if you know what I mean – so her taunting compliments about my pretty dress and shoes – and handbag, fell on deaf ears.  She seemed a little put out when I didn't thank her for helping me take the bags of clothes I'd bought that day up to my apartment.  Suggested that she come in for a drink, but I still had enough machismo left in me to stare her down, so she turned away. "See you later, sweetie," she smirked.
"Not if I can help it – bitch!" I snapped.
She turned around and came to stand in front of me.  "Michelle?  That language of yours?  Not nice!"  And then, with lightning speed, she slapped me.  I rocked back on my heels, too shocked even to cry and, before I knew it – she was kissing me on the cheek – one of those air kisses that women love.
"Now this is the proper way for girls to say hello and goodbye Michelle.  Got it?"
Dumbly, my cheek smarting from the slap, I nodded.
"Very good! Now let's do it properly!"
I simply stared at her, not sure of what to do.
"Your turn to kiss me – girly!" she smiled, supremely confident of her power over me now.
I approached her slowly as she grinned at me  We embraced each other lightly. "Bye Sheila.  Thanks so much for helping me today," I whispered girlishly  as our cheeks touched.
"Oh, you're welcome Michelle. I'm always happy to help a girlfriend out," she said.  Then she burst out laughing as she walked away.
Inside my apartment, I looked at the girl in the mirror.  Nice summer frock.  Bouffant, blonde hairdo.  She attempted a not very successful smile at me, but her pretty eyes looked kinda scared.  I went and laid down and had a nap.  Woke up just after seven o'clock.  Knew what I'd better do.
I was ready when the buzzer rang.  "Who's this?" I whispered seductively.
"Cindy.. Gonna let me in, sweetheart?" she cooed.
"Naturally, darling,"  I said – and pressed the Entry key.
I opened the front door to my apartment just a little so that I could peek through.  Then, waiting for her in my prettiest, laciest, pinkest, baby dolls and matching shorty peignoir, I waited for her – BIG Cindy  cradled in my arms and the tip of him just tantalizing my crimson lips as I waited for my lover to appear.
It didn't take her long.  The only thing?  She had four big women with her – all of whom I'd screwed before, at one time or another.  Some of them were carrying boxes or suitcases.  I couldn't figure why.  Then I saw something that made my blood run cold. Sheila was there as well!  Once Cindy pushed the door open fully, they all let out yells of delight.
"Oh Cindy!  She's a cutie!"
"Isn't she pretty!"
"Would you just look at those baby dolls!  They're so darling!"
Cindy hadn't seen me since leaving me at Helen's shop that afternoon.  She smiled and came forward. "Now, aren't you the prettiest girl!"  she said and gently pulled Big Cindy away from my lips and kissed me. "Want Big Cindy right now, don't you Michelle?" she asked.
I swallowed nervously.  "Oh yes Cindy.  That would be lovely."
"Well, you're just going to have to wait for a little while.  I've been boasting about your soft luscious mouth to all my friends here.  Right guys?"
My eyes had been too focused on Cindy while this had been going on but now, as they chorused out "Yeahs!" I saw that they were all in the process of attaching dildos to themselves!
"What are all those suitcases for, darling?" I asked Cindy as much from wanting to change the subject as genuine curiosity.
"Oh, did I forget to tell you?  Sheila's agreed to come and help you with your agency.  She's agreed to let you be her Administrative Assistant – her secretary!  Isn't that NICE of her?  This way you can make her coffee, run errands – that kind of thing during the day!"
"But  . . But . .But . ." I stammered.
"Oh, you can show her how grateful you are later.  But know what?"
I shook my head.
"She's bought you the prettiest, sexiest, little maid's uniform – so's you can be her lady's maid on days when you're not too busy – or weekends when she throws a party!  Doesn't that sound like fun?"
She didn't wait for an answer. Just picked me up and sat me on her hip as all the tall women faced us, their dildos jutting out at me. "Okay, luscious lips?" she said.  "Who do you want to service first, huh? Look at how eager they all are!"
And, down on my knees, I gave them all blow jobs – and after a whispered warning from Sheila, smiled and made happy noises as my mouth slid up and down their shafts.  Gagged at the first jet of ejaculate, but managed to swallow it with a smile.  They were all very impressed with my expertise at putting on my lipstick as I made my lips up between each blow job.
Then, they all decided to play cards.  After I served them drinks, they forced me under the table on my hands and knees.  There, I had to service Big Cindy and then lick Cindy clean.  There was a storm of protest from the others at this favoritism – so I had to push my tongue into their moist vaginas as well.  By the sounds from above me, the smell of their cum, and the way their bodies moved up and down onto my tongue, they seemed to have a great time.
Finally, they were finished.  I breathed a thankful sigh.
In the meantime, Sheila had moved her stuff into MY bedroom.  She came and got me and took me in there.  On the bed lay my crimson satin dress and some jet black lingerie.
"Why don't you go and get cleaned up, put on fresh makeup,  and put on that outfit? Okay?  But call me before you put the dress on, okay?"
"Okay Sheila," I said obediently.
"No, no Michelle?  From now on, especially in front of other people?  I think you should call me 'Mistress'  Don't you agree?"
"Yes Mistress," I said meekly – and couldn't help myself.  Took the sides of my shorty robe in my hands and made a little curtsey.
"Delightful!  You are going to be a wonderful little maid, I can tell!  So you won't forget to call me once you've got your lingerie on?"
"No Mistress" I said, and curtsied again.
"Good girl!" she said, and patted me on the cheek, then left.
I washed my face and tidied up my hair.  Then I put on my lingerie. To tell the truth?  It felt nice.  I was already learning the discomfort that breasts can create if you don't wear a bra and seeing my brand new breasts cupped inside lacy black bra cups? Well, I'd be lying if I didn't say I felt a little pride. Then my lacy, matching panties – followed by the garter belt, my beautiful slip – then my stockings. Then I combed my hair again, and put on my makeup – and a touch of perfume.
A pretty girl smiled back at me from the mirror.  Her eyes didn't look quite so scared now.  The worst was over, surely, I thought.  I went and opened the door a little.  One of the big blondes was just coming out of the bathroom.  "Would you tell Mistress Sheila that I'm ready?" I asked her softly.
"Sure doll.  No problem," she said.
I shut the door again.  A minute or so later, I heard Sheila's voice through the door.  "Got your shoes on, Michelle?"
"No Mistress."
"Well get them on, huh?"
"Yes Mistress."
After I put on my high heels, I opened the door. When she came into the room, she was followed by all of the guys – and then I noticed – she was wearing a dildo!
"Knew she'd look great in her undies," she said to her followers.
"But why have her in heels Sheila?" somebody asked.
"When she was 'Mike' she always seemed to want to bang broads bigger than her. I want to see what the attraction is – and without her heels?  She'd be smaller than me.  Okay sweet thing – let's party, huh?" she said and came and kissed me.
I DID struggle and cry and plead, but she was too strong for me.  Her dildo wasn't as big as the one that Cindy had used on me earlier and after a while, I managed to relax.  Can't say I enjoyed the embarrassment of lying there, face down, being humped in front of a bunch of gloating women – but it wasn't too awful, if you know what I mean. She put a condom over me, so that when I ejaculated I wouldn't spoil my undies.
The clock struck two and I hoped that we were finished for the night – but that was too much to hope for.  After I freshened myself up again, Sheila helped me into the crimson dress.  Then, I found myself being escorted down into the dark parking lot and we all piled into Cindy's big SUV. It was awkward walking in the dress – it was so tight – but it was kinda nice when they all whistled at me when I got into the car and my dress rode up and showed the pretty lace trim on my slip. I also had to put up with a lot of roaming hands during the trip, but to tell the truth?  It was nice to be wanted.
We drove up to a darkened building.  Cindy spoke through a grill in a side door, and we all went in to a dark room, before the door was closed behind us.  Then another door opened into lights, music, the clinking of glasses and lots of laughter. A neon sign was blinking "Sally's Sissy Shop!"
I finally took in what I was seeing.  There were a lot of big women walking about – some of them with dildos erect – and lots of pretty, dainty girls – all wearing crimson dresses, just like mine!" In one corner, I saw three tall women standing with drinks in their hands, chatting away quite the thing, while kneeling in front of them, three crimson dressed girls were giving them blow jobs!
A large busty woman was heading towards us. "Cindy!  I've been waiting for you all night!  This must be Michelle!"  She came and hugged me until my bones ached.  "I've been telling my customers about you – and some of them just can't wait!" she said to me.  "So why don't you get that cute little ass down onto the floor?  Charge two hundred for a blow job – and three hundred for taking it up the ass. Just keep your takings in your bra, I'll get my cut afterwards."
I suddenly realized.  The girls in the crimson dresses?  Weren't girls at all – they were just like ME.
"But Cindy!" I wailed.  "I'm YOUR girl! Why'd you want me to do this – act like a slut?"
She had the grace to look embarrassed. "Well doll, your apartment is a long way from my beat – and to tell the truth?  I don't know if I want to be banging Sheila's maid.  But I drop by here about three times a week – so that's the only nights you'll have to come here.  And anyway?  The money you make here'll help make up for what you lose when Sheila takes over your business. You'll be wanting to buy a whole lot of pretty clothes too, won't you?  Make sense?"
I was just staring at her in shock when a strong arm encircled my waist.  A large brunette was standing beside me. "Hi soft lips Michelle.  I've heard SO much about you," she cooed as she effortlessly lifted me down a few stairs. "Why don't I buy you a drink, sweetie?"
I looked at the clock.  Exactly three o'clock.  Had it only been thirty hours? I cuddled into her side and nuzzled her neck.  "Can I have a Margarita?" I whispered into her ear.
The end


5 comments:

alexvyaz said...

I love this wonderful story!
It's my fantasy when all the female rule and all the males are sissies in the plot. ;)
Thank you for the new story.

Anonymous said...

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Sonya

belinda said...

Looked over my last post and Bea's and Carrie's comments. I do think I have a tendency to over-emphasize the femme side of cd fantasies and ignore the forced side. My own feeling is that forced femme fantasies contain conflicting elements. One element is the allure of things feminine. The boys in these stories are easily feminized generally. Why? Well we could say they are weak, but I think it is not a stretch to say that at some level they want to be feminized. At the same time feminization is not chosen. It is forced by a powerful female,with humiliation and reduction in status. This element of these stories I associate with a term I recently learned, femmephobia, the cultural disparagement of things thought to be feminine, particularly very girly clothes and activities. The types of clothing most often introduced in forced femme fiction. So for me the forced femme fantasy has a contradiction at its core. "I want to be feminized. I don't want to be feminized." So logically I reject the premises of these stories, but they still excite me.

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