Dominate
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I’m going to get arrested one of these goddamn days, and it’s going to be your goddamn fault. Not that I could actually tell you that, but this is getting dangerous. Every day I have to pull over and get out of my boxer shorts and slip into the pink panties you make me wear, of late. I could just wear them at work, but I’m not running the risk of getting caught. I’d never live that down. Who the hell ever heard of a prison guard who wears pink panties to work?
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I should never have gotten you that leather outfit you wanted. You’ve become unstoppable. Granted, I married you because you were strong woman and would make sure everything was taken care of. But you need help! You are the worst control freak I have ever even heard of. Nothing moves in our house, anymore, without your express seal of approval, and God help the things you don't approve of. Your megalomania has even spread to our sex life. How is it that I became your little bitch? Well, I need to stow this rebellious talk. I’m almost home. I’m really not in the mood to fight tonight. Work was rough and I really need to calm down. Fat chance, but it’s worth a shot.
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No sooner do I get in the door than you start. With a huff, and a small regret that I don't get a ‘welcome home’ kiss anymore, I slog my way to the bedroom to get changed. Offhandedly, I wish the kids would come home. I see now why you scheduled them all for summer camp the same two weeks. I really have to pay more attention when you seem to be doing something nice.
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I strip out of my uniform and into my new uniform. I hate to admit it, and I don't think I’m going to, but I kind of like this mini skirt. It would be cool for guys to have some sort of choice in what they wear. Not that I’m turning fag, or anything, but those Scottish guys wear that kilt thing, and they seem plenty happy. Not that this is anything close to a kilt, mind you. This spandex mini skirt was very tight. I guess that’s what you girls mean when you speak of panty lines. This thong thing is annoying, too. I don't remember my asshole needing anal floss before. This is really your thing, now? UGH!!
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I report to you, on my knees of course, in today’s ensemble. A tight black mini skirt, thong panties in red with a matching Demi-bra, white see through top and black chunky heels. I present my face for make up. You take not a second in deciding to paste me up like a clown tonight. I look like a fifteen-year-old whore. Not that that’s a bad thing, but geeze. You are really going to take me out in public like this? The blonde wig is pretty, though.
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You, graciously, allow me to lick some dinner from a dog bowl on the floor. As always, you forgot to warn me not to mess up my make up. I knew the spanking was coming, but I didn’t expect you to use my own belt on my poor ass. I also didn’t expect to weep like a little girl, either, but I did. Your momentary look of concern was just enough to reassure me that this is all just a game. I was quite happily relieved that I wouldn’t have to kill you and hide the body, and then the cold ‘Mistress’ face slid back into place.
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Being a bad girl, who needs watching constantly, I am forced to kneel at your feet as you finish making yourself beautiful. Remind me, once the kids are home, to thank you for being ‘kind enough’ to show me how to suck your dildo, and then make me do it. I can’t tell you how valuable a skill that will be in later life. NOT!! Although, I am getting better at it. As I kneel at your feet, I can’t help doing a wonderful job on the plastic prick you have strapped to your waist. I grab your hips and force the latex man down my throat. And look, I didn’t even throw up this time. The roughness in my throat, though, is giving me a gravely voice. I think a few of the ‘girls’ at the prison suspect something is up. I sincerely hope, for your sake, that I don't get a reputation. I promise you, you won’t live through that.
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Finally, you deem yourself ready. I must say you look hot. That little party dress you got from Frederick’s is stunning. Your breasts are very well represented in it. Remind me to speak to you about that later. I have a sneaking suspicion that, in addition to your invisible bra, you have on invisible panties too. Am I right? Right hell, I’m positively right. I wonder were we are going. You just said we were going to the bar. I know you aren’t thinking of taking me to a bar around here. Not dressed like this, you aren’t. I’ll keep my mouth shut for now and wait to see what you have in mind.
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The bar, thankfully, is almost a hundred miles from where we live. Probably less, I wasn’t watching the odometer, but close. That’s a good thing. At least you haven’t lost your head completely over this shit. I mean fun’s fun, and this is fun, but you have been pushing the envelope with a bulldozer, my dear. I do my damnedest to walk like a lady into the bar. My feet still hurt in these shoes. Was it really necessary to see blood before you let me stop learning to walk in them the other night?
Just before the door, you stop me and tell me to bend way over. God only knows what you have in mind now. I hear the eeeeerch of the zipper on my skirt and begin to panic. I almost call it all off when I feel you move aside my panties and press something up my tight bunghole. To my surprise, though, you stand in front of me and fix me, all while I still feel full. I look at you with large question marks in my eyes. You smile and pat me on the head. You don’t bother to explain, but lead me into the bar by the hand.
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Where, on God’s green Earth, did you find this place? I see nothing but women here. That’s okay, I’ve heard of lesbian bars before. No big deal. This is not a lesbian bar. That woman needed a closer shave. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach that I have been set up. You planned this shit all along, didn’t you? You probably enrolled the kids in camps that only would keep them away for the same two weeks, didn’t you? This is bad, this is very, very...bad.
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You send me to the bar for drinks. The bartender just gives me a smirk and goes off to take care of a real female customer. I wait patiently, well almost. Thank God you let me bring cigarettes. I would probably tear this guy’s head off without one right now. I need to act like a lady, though. You are expecting that, and I’m not in the mood for another spanking.
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I order the drinks in a hushed tone of voice. Damn, this shit is really starting to rub off on me. Oh well, when in Sodom and Gomorra.... When I return to the table, however, I find all the chairs full. Lovely, I see how this is going to go. I place your drink in front of you and stand off to the side while you chat with women you obviously already know. I’ll ask how later.
A sissy bar, where the hell did you find this place? No, let me guess, you found this on the web, right next to the other femdoms you seem to know. My, my, this is quite an interesting collection of ‘girls’. All shapes, sizes and ages, mostly in a gruesome Halloween version of Shirley Temple. A man in his mid forties makes his way over from the bar with that certain twinkle in his eye. Lovely...
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“I’m Shelly,” he speaks in not much more than a whisper. “What’s your name?”
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Without thinking, I answer, “Harry.” The poor little girl looks disappointed. I try to cover with an apologetic smile. She seems to perk up a bit and toddles, yes toddles, over to one of the women at the table with you. She stands for a second then does the Impatient Dance until the woman notices her.
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“I have to potty, Mommy,” she says in her best ‘little girl voice’. “Can I take my new friend to the potty with me?”
Okay, first of all, who elected me ‘new friend’? Secondly, who said I had to potty? Unfortunately, I seem to have been overruled someplace. The forty-year-old girl grabs me by the hand and leads me to the bathroom at a skip. This is starting to get on my nerves, ever so slightly. It was an interesting experiment, but I think it’s time to go. Shelly almost knocks two other ‘girls’ into the wall in her excitement to show me the potty.
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The bathroom is straight out of a construction worker’s nightmare. The walls are pink. The window is covered in lace curtains and there is a painting of Shirley Temple on the wall. Well, at least that explains that. Shelly takes off her dress, well before I finish surveying the room, and hangs it on a hook on the wall. Astounded, I notice two other girls in just their panties and shoes.
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“Quick, quick, take off your pretty clothes. You don't want to get dirty, do you?” she fusses at me. “The Mommies all are watching. You don't want to get spanked, do you?’
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He looked so odd in panties, make up and an unmistakably male body. My brain just can’t make the connection. I stare and shake my head to try to force the image to compute. She decides to be helpful and starts to unbutton my top. Oh what the hell. I let her take the blouse and hustle me out of the skirt. I stand there, in just my panties and bra, completely not believing that I’m doing this at all.
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“ I just love to be bad in the bathroom,” she confesses with an actual giggle. Shelly has a small wet spot forming in her, newly tented, panties. Without warning, she drops to her knees and fishes my cock out of my panties. I cringe inward and try to shoo her off, but she is quick to slurp me into her mouth. It’s rather obvious that I’m not the first playmate that she has ‘been bad’ with. But I must say, this is some pretty good head.
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I stumble back to lean on the sink as Shelly swallows me whole. My cock swells in this guy’s mouth. His tongue licks at my ball sack as he crams me deep into his throat. Just as I feel the tide rise in my balls, she slips me out and teases my head with her tongue. Not that I’m really paying close attention, or at least telling myself that I’m not, but my fingers aren’t as nimble at this whore’s tongue. If I could only reconcile the fact that those panties contain a cock...Enough, I need to cum.
“Put it back in your throat,” I whisper with a sexy rasp in my voice.
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“Say please,” She teases.
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“Please,” I ask, flatly.
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“Noooo, silly. Ask me nice.”
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Nice, hell. I’m about to grab your head and fuck it like a blow up doll. You’d probably enjoy that very much, but I’m not so sure your owner would. I play it cool and go along with the game.
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“Okay. Please honey? Please swallow Sissy’s big, stiff prick? I need to cum, baby. I need to empty my balls in your tight throat. Please? I’ll let you try on my mini skirt. I saw you looking at it. I know you want to.” Well, that worked. My cock feels like it’s being strangled by a boa constrictor. Damn, this is good head. I swell and pop my heavy balls into his eager mouth with a screaming sigh. I can’t help myself, I brush his hallow cheek as he finished milking my shrinking member. Fuck, that was good head.
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As promised, I help her wiggle into my skirt. It’s a bit too small, but she gets all excited that it’s so tight. We struggle to get her fat ass out of it. Warmly, I help her get back into her own dress, and don't feel a bit self-conscience about only being in a bra and panties. More girls come in and out, all in different sorts of lingerie. My favorite was the black and red merry widow with the fishnet stockings. I slip back into costume and escort my ‘new friend’ back to the Mommies table.
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Shelly runs head long into a displeased mommy. She makes the ‘girl’ peel off her panties and grab her ankles. She, and several of her friends, chastised the flabby ass they find within. In no time flat, the skin is an angry red and the poor girl, that just swallowed my sword, is in tears. Not that I’m not positive that was the very reason she sucked me off, but I’m not asking questions. This is an excellent time to be on our way, I think. Smart girl you are, you were wise not to disagree. You make your good-byes and promise to see them all in the chartroom you all hang out in.
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The ride home is quiet. I can tell you are so horny you could burst, but payback is a bitch. I now know that you set me up so that you could fit in with your new friends. That’s okay. It wasn’t so bad, fun actually, and Shelly gave great head. I’ll worry about the ‘she’s a man’ thing later. But now the game is over. If you want to hear what happened in the bathroom, you are going to have to dance to my tune. Let’s talk about what style of French Maid costume you are going to wear when you serve my Super Bowl Party.
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The end...
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