Femdom Fantasies

by Matthew © 2009

I’m a guy. A man. So sometimes, on occasion when I’m surfing the Internet I look at porn. Well, okay, maybe more than sometimes. A lot. Like I said, I’m a guy. And there is a lot to look at. You can find stuff that caters to ANY conceivable fetish that you have…

I was looking for something…something different. Something to appease the dark and twisted desire demon deep inside…something out of the mainstream. You would think that the subject of Female Domination would be out of the mainstream, but there seems to be quite a bit of it out there. So many Mistresses, so alike. How many leather wearing Ladies holding whips posing in front of wooden frames do you need to see before you get bored? And you’ll see a lot. All promising a painful playtime. So long as you pay. And pay. Not for me. No, I want something more…deeper…more personal…something like…Hypnosis?

There are Dominants who promise to Hypnotize, to steal your will, to bind you in chains that no key can possibly unlock, to control you in ways in which you don’t realize until it is too late. Could this be what will finally grab my desire and hold it? So tempting. And again so many to choose. Assuming I had the choice. Magical Sorceresses, Silver-tongued Sirens, Seductive Dominas all with flashy websites and flashy promises of Knowing Just What You Need.  So I tried them all. Well, at least all the free samples I could get!

Quickly I realized that there were basically two types of Hypnotic Dominants. Let’s just call them the “real” and the “fake”. Now, the fake ones are those who see it as a sideline, just another facet of their business. Their business being primarily talking on the phone to some guy with his dick in his hand and smacking some Bad Businessman on the ass with a ruler during his lunch break. She will talk a good script but talk is all it is. No effort. No training. Not for me. The real ones are the ones who actually study and understand Hypnosis. Why some even have actual degrees in it! And they understand psychology. And they understand the male psyche in particular. Which does not require a degree. She will craft a trance, boy let me tell you! With music and sounds and sexy voices. I have gotten lost in some of those… …um, anyway. But even among the “real” Hypnotic Dominants there are two types. Let’s just call them: “Those in it for the money” and “Those in it for the love of Hypnosis”. Just between you and me, I think I prefer the latter.

So it would seem I still had a choice to make, even among the “for the money” Dommes there were some very appealing, dare I even say Hypnotic alternatives.

But then I stumbled upon Her site.

I don’t even remember how I found her site. Must have been a link from a link from somewhere else, but there I was. Simple, homespun almost. No flashy graphics or animations. No music or sexy come-ons. Just a simple welcome to the page of Miss–well, I can’t give her name really. I mean I want to. I really do. But I just…can’t. But I can say it’s an ordinary name. As She is, to all appearances an ordinary Woman. And we all know how appearances can be. Deceiving that is. But she is the opposite of deceiving. In fact, she is the most direct and uncomplicated Woman I would ever meet. Did I say meet? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves…

Anyhow, there I was. At Her website. As I said it was different from all the others, simple and plain. No, “WeLcOmE to the Lair of MisTReSs ExOtIcaLuxus owner of Your Mind!!!11” And so I went in. Inside was equally as plain with just a simple menu and a picture. A picture of Her. At first glance she looked quite ordinary, the typical “girl next door” but as you looked at her picture you began to notice things… Like her hair, shoulder-length and brown the kind of brown that reminds you of soft autumn leaves, and how it frames her face, open and plain but with a spray of freckles across her nose that gave her a mischievous air. And her eyes, just what do you call that color? And her lips, how can a smile be an invitation and a warning at the same time? She was dressed not in any exotic costume of leather or rubber, no fishnet nor whip. Just an ordinary blouse and knee length skirt. Yet on Her they managed to both convey a sense of mature competence and display a, well, “killer” figure.

Once I tore myself from Her photo I explored the rest of the website. Which did not take long. The only menu items on the site lead to three things. There was a short section of her philosophy, an audio file to listen to and a page with a link to send Her a message.

Now Her philosophy was again simple and direct. She believes that Women were meant to rule over men. Completely. Women are desired, and men do the desiring. Men pursue Women, because they need to, and deep down they need to put themselves under the rule of a Woman. She was looking for a particular man to rule over and serve Her. In order for her to find that man she would use Hypnosis to entrance and train men, until She found the One.

Again, this was not like anything I expected after reading so many other Hypnodomme sites. This was something, well, raw and real, not like “buy my programs, then buy some more”. This was, thrilling in a way. Could She actually be serious? What happens to the men she entrances and trains and doesn’t keep? And what would it feel like to be entranced and trained by Her? At that point my penis really wanted to know.

the next menu item led me to a page with a link to download an mp3 file. There was a warning that this file contained powerful hypnotic programming and would cause irrevocable changes to any male who listened to it. Now I have heard THAT before and come out whole so I certainly was not going to believe that at face value. But somehow this warning coupled with the seriousness of the rest of the site made me pause and think, what if? Well, what if? What if it COULD do what She says it will do? What would that feel like? Is THAT the experience I have been searching for? Is it? or Isn’t it? So I downloaded the file. It took a while, it was rather large. Too big to be just a sample. Was She really giving away a full-length induction for free? I began to think that maybe, maybe this was all a clever ruse. A joke. A trap to lure unsuspecting suckers into another “pay per worship” Domina business plan. I would not fall for that!  Well, I would find out soon enough.

Finally with the download done, I pulled out my headphones and arranged a spot on the couch so I could lie down and listen.  Then I started up the mp3 and waited. And waited. I checked the screen, no it was playing; but no sound. Nothing. It WAS a joke after all! Wait, there was…something. Very faint, a whisper…words…just at the edge of my hearing…but there…words…but I can’t quite make them out. And, also a tone or tones, like a hum, did I just notice that, or was it there before? There IS something in this file after all, but what? No welcome? No explanation? No Induction? What is this? Might as well listen, I don’t really feel like getting up now anyway…

I became aware of music, I didn’t really notice it start, but all of the sudden it was just there. Sweet and mellow, violins and maybe a flute and It sounded like, like I was on one of those inflatable rafts floating aimlessly on a small pond on a sunny Summer day. Floating and drifting, gently bobbing on the water as the clouds passed lazily by…floating…drifting as the bright sun chased the breezes across the meadow…   ……. ……

“…Three…becoming aware of your surroundings…Four, eyes open now, stretching your arms and legs….And, FIVE, fully Awake and ready to start your new life! Knowing what you must do…

So yeah, I immediately went back to Her site and clicked on that last menu item. The link to send Her a message. I really had no idea why I was sending Her a message and I had no idea what I was going to say; but it didn’t really matter did it?

The End
Or, Just the beginning?

by Shallara (c) 2009
In tribute to Lady Julia
(continued from part three)

Ariella slowly drifted back to consciousness, delicious thoughts of the dungeon she had just ‘visited’ and her spanking experiences turning over in her mind. Shallara never hurt her; Ariella preferred to think of it as heavy stimulation. She always came out of a spanking feeling aroused and alive and with a closer bond than ever to Shallara.

Sometimes the spanking were pure pleasure; she loved those most intimate ones, draped across Shallara’s knee on the warm leather couch in front of the fire. Shallara would caress her bottom between strokes, playing her fingernails around the patterns that the hand smacks left. The arousal would grow slowly and surely, and as the spanking progressed, she would often feel Shallara’s massaging hands probing between her moist thighs. And it always ended in long cuddles, creamy liqueurs and a feeling of love and well being.

On other occasions, Shallara would play the domme; sometimes a teacher, sometimes an assertive matron…or whatever the mood drove her to try. The role play excited them both, and the sexual excitement came as much from the play as the punishments that Shallara laid on. She found it humiliating and arousing to be bent over, sometimes over a chair, sometimes with hands on her knees, and made to offer her bottom in such an unconditional way. She could sense her private parts on display, open and vulnerable, and aware that she was unable to hide the swelling and dampness that always occurred. There was that ever present element of arousal, the stickiness between her thighs, the dewiness on her lips, and that feeling that her breasts were on fire and wanting to burst out from their skin.

Although playful and exuberant, Shallara hated to hurt her. There were times when Shallara thought she had over-played a stroke, and Ariella loved the compassion and attention that would follow: gentle massaging of a soothing cream into the offending welt, kisses and apologies. She often joked afterward that Shallara was really too soft, kind and compassionate to really be her domme.

So it was with surprise, that as Ariella tuned in more closely to the voices in the entrance hall, she heard Shallara saying: “I thought you weren’t meant to come back, Tim ? What are you doing here? “.

“May I come in please? I have to speak to you. ”

Shallara felt less than pleased. She had just been leading Ariella down into a wonderful trance, and this interruption was really unwelcome. Seeing who was now standing there, Shallara felt acid.

Tim stepped through the door and had a flashback to his thoughts when he had last entered the apartment. When he had last stepped through this door, he had challenged himself to get Shallara in bed within two weeks. He had left impotent and with an invisible restraint around his crotch. That target now seemed very remote, and in fact was at the back of his mind. It was his sexual freedom he wanted. Tim remembered the padded trestle he had seen in the sitting area on his last visit, and his mind had been churning over the possibilities. Maybe, just maybe, she would accept his offer?

He half expected that she would respond mockingly; more likely that she would reject his suggestion out of hand. In fact he was a bit stunned at what did come back to him: “Tim, are you sure you are prepared to be spanked? Do you know how much that hurts? Actually….I don’t think you are man enough to take it from me!”.

There was a low murmur from someone with a male voice. Ariella could only pick up the trailing words: “……but if I do, then it is all over? I get my libido back? I don’t need to get yours or Mrs Stern’s permission anymore?”.

“Agreed, Tim. But the right hand ring stays on. You are never going to abuse women again…”

The voices trailed off as she heard Shallara take the man into a spare room that led off the entrance lobby. Ariella got up and walked over to the liquor cabinet to pour herself a Baileys. It was creamy and sweet, just right for her mood. The fire flickered in the hearth reminding her of the dungeon dream she had just had. She sat and waited for Shallara to rejoin her, her lips caressing the glass’s rim, savoring the drops of nectar that seemed to trickle down the edges. Her tongue darting in occasionally to lick at the creamy contents. As she waited Enya played on, and her existence had merely seemed to drift from a sleeping dream to a waking dream.

Ariella turned to the doorway as she heard Shallara enter. Shallara’s fingers came up to her lips, indicating her to remain silent. Then she was gone. A few moments later, Shallara came back through the door leading a man by the elbow. He was naked; Ariella wanted to giggle as she caught sight of his semi erect member which seemed to point the way ahead. A red silk cloth was wound around his eyes in a blindfold, and his breathing seemed heavy. Well built, not too much flab – Ariella’s mind did somersaults as she tried to figure out what was going on. Shallara’s fingers remained on her own lips, urging her to remain silent.

Reaching the center of the room, Shallara stopped, and whispered in the man’s ear. He stood erect, hands at his sides, his mouth deadpan. Shallara moved quickly over to the padded trestle in the corner, and brought it back to the center of the room, placing in front of the blindfolded man.

“Bend over this trestle Tim…..are you sure you really want to go through with this?”. The man reached forward, feeling for where the trestle was and then bent forward. “Grip the front legs, Tom…..spread your legs as wide as they go…make them touch the back legs…there you go!”

Ariella could sense the sexual tension. The semi-flaccid member had sprung upright, and seemed to be stabbing at the underside of the padded trestle. Shallara glided back to the wall unit in the corner of the room. In the one hand she had a whippy little cane they had purchased once at an adult shop. It stung like crazy and left angry red wheals; in the other, her favorite little strap. About two inches wide, eighteen inches long, it ended in two tails. In skilled hands, it was versatile – it could sting, it could bruise, it could burnish, it could bite! She seemed to be breathing deeply; a look had entered her eyes that Ariella had never seen. She paced around the bent and blindfolded man, rubbing his back lightly, caressing his buttocks.

Time stood still. The bent over man shifted uncomfortably. Shallara looked around, and cast one of her impish smiles Ariella’s way. Suddenly she was gone. When she came back into the room, she was carrying the wooden spoon and a baking tray. The silence prevailed, and she barely acknowledged Ariella’s presence. Shallara bent down gracefully, her knees together, and placed the baking tray directly beneath the man’s hanging head.

She stood in front of him, and gently took hold of handful of his hair, pulling his head up. “Open your mouth, Tim…”. A measured pause as she played out the drama. Even sitting 5 feet away, her feet curled up under her, Ariella could start to smell the musty scents wafting off these these two players. “It’s a bite stick, Tim…..now close your teeth around it. …..You have to grip it tightly Tim. If you drop it ……you will walk out of this room, and never see me again. And don’t…do not, under any circumstance, leave go of the trestle legs in front of you! Do you understand Tim ? This is going to hurt you. Hurt you more than you have ever experienced! You are going to wish that you had never asked me to do this to you! But you have, and you know what?” “Shallara’s voice seemed to get huskier with each sentence. It was as if she was battling to control herself. “ I am going to enjoy it. It excites me Tim. I know how you feel about women, and on behalf of each of those ladies out there who you have ever put down, I am gong to whip your scraggly butt with a cane. I am gong to watch you jiggle it Tim. And I am going to get off on it!”

Ariella watched her closely. Her excitement was evident; it was lust, and for the first time, she saw the latent sadistic streak in her Domme. Until now it had always been about control, and power with some sensuality and rough play thrown in. But this time it was something different. This man had brought the animal out in her, and she was hot. Ariella found her own feelings starting to build. She desperately wanted to play with herself, but she knew she had to keep absolutely still, to keep undetected.

Ariella stepped back and watched. The head seemed to droop, but the stick stayed grasped in his mouth. “You did say no more than six, didn’t you Tim ?”. The nod was almost imperceptible. “So if we aim for around 5..or maybe just a touch more, that works for you?”. Shallara picked up the cane from the coffee table. She held it lightly in her fingers, almost like a violinist gripping her bow. Her red painted nails seemed to be set off against the ash white cane. And with a slight flick of her wrist, she sent it searing across the man’s bottom. The man yelped and jerked his bottom in. But the bite-stick stayed gripped between his teeth.

Shallara paced around him, He could not see her, but her presence was obvious. She was breathing deeply, and flicking the cane rhythmically. The next three strokes were delivered in quick succession. It was as if a thick red crayon had been used to draw a line of pain, joining his two bottom cheeks. His hands stoically grasped the front legs, but he seemed to be doing a dance with his pelvis. He looked silly as he waved his bottom around, trying desperately to find some relief. His penis flopped around under the trestle, any vestiges of an erection long gone.

He jerked as her fingers traced the lines. The welts stood out from his skin, white in the center, a multi-colored red on either side. She massaged his bottom gently, and lent forward to whisper in his ear, “Hurts’ doesn’t it ? mmmm…..I like that. It excites me to see you like this, Tim. I am all hot…and it is you who has done it.” Her body heat had seemed to release the scent of her perfume. Chanel No 5 flooded his senses. The warmth from the fire; this closeness of this vibrant and spunky woman. The blood flooded back into his penis. “…and we are still within the limit Tim. I have only given you 4 strokes…should we carry on? Don’t forget the bite stick, Tim !…and don’t leave hold of the legs of the trestle. I will tell you when we you can leave go.”

Shallara took up her position again. Like that violin lead, her balance slightly back on her right leg, the cane at the ready….then that delicate flick of the write again. She played the proffered bottom like a musical instrument. The crack as the whippy rod met his tensed buttocks. She watched it vibrate against the trestle. The cheeks vibrating open and closed in desperate attempt to find some relief. But at last he settled. “Don’t drop it, big boy” she whispered huskily, “we’re still under six……”. The pause hung in the air….”if I give you another half, I am still within the limit, aren’t I ? Just nod, your had, don’t say anything. Or…you can walk away right now?”

They waited for his response. At last it came…..a slight nod. The wooden spoon trembled in his mouth. “The reward will be worth it, Timmy, don’t drop it…how bad can half a stroke really be? Think about what we discussed, Tim…picture it in your mind. And if you agree, push your bottom out. Offer yourself to me Tim.”

As if by magic, the cane seemed to have been replaced in Shallara’s hand by the strap. She sensuously dragged it through her left hand, fingering the supple leather, twisting the tongues backwards and forwards. Without warning, she raised it and brought it crashing down across the left check of the upturned bottom. The strap’s tongues snaked in-between the tender thigh flesh, kissing the highly sensitive skin. Exquisite agony as the one tongue licked at the top of his scrotum. The other caressed the perineum with a scorching flash.

Time stood still for Ariella. But it could only have been a fraction of a second later that Tim groaned uncontrollably, and ejaculated the bite-stick from his mouth, the spoon clattered down onto the baking tray at his feet. He writhed in a climax of pain, pounding his hips into the padded trestle. His penis jabbed backwards and forwards uncontrollably. His hands shot around to clasp and caress his backside. Slowly he stood up.

“You dropped it !”, Shallara accused him. “It was only half a stroke…I didn’t even touch your right cheek!”

Tim tore off the red silk blindfold and spun around. His eyes found Ariella’s and a flush of red streaked up into his cheeks. “What the …who is this? ..what is she doing here ? You …!”.

“You dropped it Tim…you lost the bet”, Shallara reiterated. “Better go and get dressed and be on your way like a good boy.” Ariella watched silently as Shallara escorted him out. As he exited the front door, she saw Shallara hand him something. “Perhaps I will see you again Timmy, once you have taken in the lessons on this CD. I would suggest listening twice a day, as soon as you wake up and before you go to bed. And Timmy, cold cream will do wonders for your welts!”.

He walked away furious and uptight. His backside hurt like crazy and the area between his legs where the strap had caught, stung remorselessly. But even worse, he felt humiliated and double-crossed. He was just about to drop the CD, but the writing caught his attention. If this was the way into her pants, maybe he had better listen. On it, there were two lines: “Hypnosis: The joys of submission” and “Red Silk by Lady Julia”. Maybe…..maybe….

by Matthew © 2009

(continued from part two)

Caller ID is a modern marvel. It lets you know which calls you can ignore…and which ones are very important…

“Hello…”

“Hello Matthew.”

“Susan. Hi.” For some strange reason, I am very excited to hear her on the line. Strange reason? Actually there was nothing strange about it at all…

“Are you busy?”

“Not for you.”

“That’s what I like to hear. I have some good news. The movers came this morning and delivered my furniture and quite a few boxes…”

“That IS good news.” Isn’t it?

“And so I was wondering if you would like to help me this afternoon…moving a few things…”

“I’d love to…”

“Good. So I’ll expect you, say, in about an hour…”

“I’ll be there…”

“Excellent! I really appreciate how helpful you are, Matthew.”

“I…well, it’s my pleasure…”

“I like to hear that too. See you soon.”

And with that, Susan was gone. Leaving me feeling…well, very excited. I get to help Her again. That’s a good thing. Isn’t it? It feels good, so it must be good. Right? What I didn’t think about is why. Why does she have such an effect on me?

I arrived at Susan’s house within an hour. What I didn’t notice was that there was a few extra cars parked on the street near her house. What I did notice was the mountain of moving boxes piled in the garage as well as furniture. This was going to be fun… Susan met me at the door wearing jeans and a turtleneck sweater. It (her sweater, that is) looked very soft and cozy. Her hair was pulled back and she was wearing glasses…giving her the effect of a School teacher on her day off.

“Come in, Matthew. I’m so glad you came.”

“How could I refuse?” How COULD I refuse??

“You can’t.” (Susan is teasing me here, I think, isn’t she?) “But anyhow, I really appreciate how helpful you’ve been. I know I keep saying that, but I really do.”

“And I keep saying, ‘It’s my pleasure”…because, well, it is…” It is. I feel good helping and being helpful to her… And I feel happy knowing that I am pleasing her. Which is important. Isn’t it?

“Well, let’s get you changed so we can get started.” Susan led me down the hallway to the smaller room I had painted a few days earlier. I noticed the doors of all the other rooms were closed

“Changed? But I…” We went in the room and Susan closed the door behind us.

“Yes. I think that while you are here helping you should be wearing a uniform. Have you forgotten already?”

“A superhero. how could I forget?”

“Yes, but I’m afraid you won’t be my superhero today. Here, put this on.” Susan opened the closet and pulled out a green unitard on a hanger. She stood there and watched as I stripped naked and put the unitard on just like she had shown me before. It should be an odd thing for a guy to just take off all his clothes in front of a woman he didn’t really know all that well. And slip into a Lycra unitard. Shouldn’t it? But I did it. Because Susan wanted me to. So that makes it all right…right? When I had it on, I turned so she could do up the zipper. She ran the zipper up my back and the unitard tightened around me…especially tight in some places…

“And now for the padlock. Matthew?” A question. She’s asking me if it’s okay for her to lock the zipper of my unitard. Locking me in it. Is it okay? What if I say no? What do I want? Do I really have a choice?

“Yes.”

For such a tiny padlock the ‘click’ seemed especially loud. “Thank you, Matthew.” Susan was thanking me…for what? For agreeing? For letting her put me in this position? “For putting your trust in me.” Susan must be a mind reader. “Now, just one more thing.” Susan turned me so I was facing her. “I think it would be easier if you were down on your knees for this.” Susan put her hands on my shoulders and gently pressed down until I was on my knees before her. She then produced a bit of Lycra fabric that matched my unitard. it was a…

“Now for the hood. I’m just going to slip this on you, then we can get the others…”

“Others?” There are others?

“You didn’t expect to move all that furniture by yourself, did you Matthew?”

“But…others…I thought…” I thought I was Susan’s superhero. Her ONLY superhero. There can’t be others! There just can’t. And if there were others, they would see me like this…I can’t let other guys see me like this Can I?

“You thought what?”

“That I was…the only…there can’t be others…”

“This isn’t about you, Matthew. I think you’re being very selfish.” Susan was disappointed. Disappointed in me.

“But…I…we…I thought we…”

“Have an exclusive relationship? I’m not your Wife, Matthew. Or your girlfriend. Or your lover. I’m not yours at all. Am I?” Yes, very disappointed.

“No.” But I thought…I’m her superhero…I am. Me.

“Why are you here?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you here, Matthew? Here. Now. With me.”

“Because-to help you.”

“Why?”

“Because–because I want to.” I like doing things for her. I like to make her happy…

“You chose to be here. To be helpful to me. because you want to.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t force you to be here. You’re here because you choose to be here…why? Because you want to please me, and make me happy. Is that right, Matthew?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think you are pleasing me now?”

“I’m sorry.” I’m stupid and selfish…Susan’s displeasure is like a heavy weight pressing on my chest. I feel bad…physically bad…sick…that I am displeasing Susan so much.

“You are here today to give me your service. That’s one of your “S” words, Matthew. It pleases you to give me your service, you said so yourself. And it pleases me to accept your service. THAT is the basis of our relationship. Whether it progresses beyond that depends on our choices…”

“Choices?”

“Yes, Matthew. Remember, you are here by choice. You may leave any time. Just say the word, and I’ll unlock your unitard, you can change and go. It’s up to you. And it is MY choice when you will be invited over to be ‘helpful’. OR EVEN IF YOU WILL BE INVITED. And it will be MY choice to take our relationship beyond what it is now. I had hopes for you, Matthew; from the moment I saw you wandering aimlessly around the mall, I thought that you might be the kind of man I am looking for. And so far, you have been doing very well. Until now, that is…”

What? ‘The kind of man I am looking for?’ Me? What kind? What do I have to do? How can I get Susan to want me? She did want me, right? Until now…

“How…what do I do to…fix this…?”

“It’s very simple, Matthew. You just have to choose.”

“I want…I want to stay.”

“Good. And I choose to accept your service– for today. Now, as I was trying to explain, this Lycra hood will cover your face so that you will be anonymous. The others are dressed the same. The identity of the others is none of your business, and yours isn’t to them. It is not important who you are. It is only important what you are here to do.” Susan drew the Lycra cloth down over my head. “Now stand up and let’s look.” I stood up and we looked in the mirror on the closet door. I could see surprisingly well through the fabric of the hood; I was looking at someone that was no longer me. My features were obscured–I was now just an anonymous male in green Lycra from head to toe. It was very strange…but…also exciting too…!

“For the rest of the day, you are no longer Matthew. You are now simply a man giving me his service. I will be calling you by the color of your unitard, ‘green’. The others will be ‘blue’ and ‘red’. And I think, for today, that I would like you to address me as ‘Mistress’. Okay?”

“I think so.”

“You THINK so? I THINK you can CHOOSE a better answer than that, ‘green’.”

“Oh. Yes…ah…Mistress…” I think Susan…Mistress…is angry with me. I’ve gone from her disappointment to displeasure and now anger. And the afternoon has just begun. I don’t like it. I make a mental vow from now on to always stay on Susan’s good side. As soon as I can find out what side that is. But I think it’s better to say as little as possible for now…before I get into even more trouble.

“Let’s go.” Susan…Mistress led me back out into the hallway. She opened the doors to two of the other rooms and led the others; ‘red’ and ‘blue’ out into the hallway.

“Now, the three of you will be helping me move my furniture into the house today. Naturally I will be telling you what goes where and how I want things handled. Some of the pieces will require you to work together. I expect you all to follow instructions and cooperate with each other. But, please don’t chat amongst yourselves- you are here to work, not to make friends. I would prefer that the three of you know as little as possible about each other. Who you are is none of each others business. Only I know who each of you are, and that’s how I want it to stay. Will you do this for me?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Three voices said in unison. I’m pretty sure one of them was mine. But really, I had absolutely no desire to get to know ‘red’ or ‘blue’. I don’t even want to look at them. I don’t want to share Susan…Mistress with anyone else. I’m her superhero. Me. But…I want…I need to make her happy. I choose to. And I’ll show her that she should choose me. I’ll work hard and do whatever she wants. Because it’s important to please her. And to make her happy. That’s right, isn’t it? I think it is.

Mistress led us out of the house and across the front yard towards the garage. I was glad that Susan…Mistress told us to wear our sneakers with our unitards. It could be pretty tricky moving the furniture in just our stocking feet. It just goes to show how thoughtful she is.

“What if someone sees us?” A voice said. One of the others…

“That’s not important, is it?” Mistress Susan reassured us. “Even if someone did see you, they wouldn’t be able to tell who you are, could they? So there is nothing to worry about.” That makes a lot of sense. If anyone did happen by and saw us, all they would see is three males working. Being helpful. So what if we are wearing these unitards? It is what Susan…Mistress…Mistress Susan wants us to wear. They are our uniforms that help us give Mistress our service. When we wear them we are no longer selfish individuals; we are simply males here to give her our service. Our identities are protected…our identities are…gone. Our hoods…our masks shield our identities and take away our individuality. Our features are gone. Our faces…our names…gone…no longer important… What is important?

I was Matthew…I am…

I am ‘green’. I am here to give her my service. That is what is important.

The rest of the afternoon was given in service. Mistress directed us and we moved her furniture. It did not take very long, we worked hard and we worked together to get her house filled with her furniture. Tables, chairs, lamps, sofas. All of it. We worked quickly without any extraneous chatter or joking around. Because she wanted it that way. It is important to do what she wants. Because it is important to please her and make her happy…

Finally we were finished and we assembled in the living room. “Thank you all for your help today. I really appreciate it. My house feels so much better to me now that it has my furniture in it. I am very proud of you all, and all your hard work. I know there are still all those boxes with the rest of my belongings. That will have to wait for another time. I hope I can count on you all to help me…” Mistress was happy. She was proud of me. Of us. We basked in her praise and knowing that I…we had pleased her, my unitard got very tight… It is important to please Mistress. It feels good to make her happy.

“Of course, Mistress.” Who said that? One of us? Or all of us?

“Excellent! You are all so very helpful. Again, I really appreciate all you have done for me. Thank you all very much.”

“Thank You, Mistress.”

“It’s my…our pleasure…”

“Anytime you need us…”

“Please follow me…” Mistress lead us back down the hallway. She stopped in front of the smaller spare room. “‘Green’, please wait for me in here.” I walked into the room and Mistress closed the door behind me. I was now alone. Alone to wait. There was now furniture in the room but it seemed appropriate to wait kneeling on a small rug facing the door. Yes. That is how I should wait. Wait for Mistress. Wait for Susan. Wait for Susan…Mistress to come and…what? That is not important. When she comes she will tell me. She wants me to wait. So I will wait. That is what’s important. Because pleasing her is important.

Hours pass…or is it just minutes? Days? I can’t tell. But it is not important. I am waiting. Waiting for her. Because she asked me to. Because she wants me to. Because I choose to. Finally I feel her presence outside the door. It’s Her!! The door opens and she enters the room.. Susan…Mistress…Mistress Susan. Susan Mistress. It feels so good that she is finally here. It feels so good to see her. The sunshine of her smile warms me. “Thank you so much for waiting.” The melody of her voice caresses me like a warm blanket. The sight of her, her Womanliness excites me and I ache and throb for her…

“Thank you so much for your service today, ‘green’. You worked very hard and was very helpful.”

“It is my pleasure to give you my service. Mistress.”

“Yes I can see that. Your unitard shows me just how much you enjoy serving. That is one of the reasons why I want you to wear it. So that the relationship between your service to me and your pleasure will be on display. There is no way for you to be able to hide it. And I must say…I enjoy having that effect on you. And the others…” Mistress was standing over me now. She bent down and gave me a kiss on my forehead. I felt the warmth of the kiss pass through my mask and spread all throughout my body. “Good job today, ‘green’. You have certainly earned your reward…” A reward. From Mistress. From Susan. From Mistress Susan. A reward for my service. My service is my pleasure. My reward…My reward will be my pleasure… She will… Mistress will grant me pleasure… If I ached for her before, it is nothing compared to how I ache now.

“But… I need to talk to Matthew…” Susan pulled the hood from my head. “Hello, Matthew”. Without my mask the lights seemed bright and harsh. And cold.

“Oh…Ah…Susan…?”

“Yes, Susan. Welcome back.”

“I…uh…”

“‘Green’ was very good today. He made me happy. He earned a reward. But you, on the other hand…”

“I’m sorry. I was selfish…I…”

“You disappointed me earlier, Matthew. I don’t like that.”

“I’ll do anything. Whatever you want…”

“Yes you will. But that’s not the point. You will already do whatever I want. I think you need to be punished.”

“Punished?”

“Yes. I think you need to really recognize that your behavior was wrong. And that you should accept responsibility for it.”

Susan looked down on me, an expectant look on her face. I had to respond somehow. I had to make things right. I had to choose my words carefully. I had to choose…to choose…

“I apologize for my behavior earlier. I was acting very selfishly. I put my own pleasure ahead of my service to you. I do not deserve any reward. I deserve punishment instead.”

“So you choose punishment instead of reward, Matthew?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a good choice, Matthew. I am glad you chose to accept your responsibility. I will give you your punishment.”

“Thank you.”

“Now I will be sending you home soon. I was going to give you all a few days rest before starting on the moving boxes. But I want you here at eight o’clock tomorrow morning ready to work. Okay?

“Yes, Mis…Susan…Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. That is not your punishment.” Susan reached down and grabbed me by my erection. After all that I was still throbbing and aching for her… “When you get home you will think about me, won’t you?”

“Ah, gurgle…”

“This is ‘off limits’, understand? You are not to touch. Not until I give you my permission. Is that clear?”

“Yes.” I croaked.

“Good.” I heard/felt a click at the back of my neck, and a rush of cool air and release of tension down my back. “Please get dressed and go.” Susan left the room, leaving me alone. I got dressed, walked out of the room and outside. I did not see Susan. Or anyone else. Susan did not walk me to my car. She did not see me off with a kiss and a squeeze of my…yet it felt as if…felt as if she was still holding me…still holding me tightly in her grasp….

I drove home very carefully…

I didn’t get much sleep that night….

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

The next morning saw me on Susan’s doorstep at eight o’ clock. Susan let me in. She was wearing her pink terrycloth robe. With all the furniture the atmosphere in her house seemed different. The echoes were muted, there were things where there should be, like a real kitchen table and chairs. If felt..right.

“Good morning, Matthew. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Uh yes. I’m…ready. Ready to help.”

“Good. And how was your evening? Did you follow my instructions?”

“I…yes…didn’t get much sleep…”

“Oh? That’s too bad. Well I suppose that was to be expected. Tell me, just what were my instructions?”

“Oh, ah…that I was not to touch…touch myself, until you give me permission.”

“Yes. That’s right. Do you think that was enough punishment?”

Oh boy. Somehow I sense that this is a question to which there is no good answer. “I…uh…no?”

“So you choose a further punishment for your behavior yesterday?”

“I…yes. Yes I do.” I think this is a safe choice. I hope.

“Very well. But it will have to wait. I have an appointment this morning. I need to get dressed.”

“Ah. Yes. I think…I think I need to get changed as well…”

“That’s right, Matthew.” Susan flashed me a smile. I was very grateful for it. Maybe, maybe I can win her approval back. If I make the right choices…

I glanced at the kitchen table. “Let me just take care of those dishes for you…”

That brought another smile from Susan. “Very thoughtful, Matthew. But not until after you get changed, okay?”

“Ah, yes. Of course.”

“Please go to the guest bedroom. You’ll find your uniform for today. Get yourself changed and I’ll meet you back here in the kitchen.”

Off I went, down the hall to the guest bedroom. The room I painted…it seems long ago now. Now the room had furniture. I opened the closet and there on a hanger, waiting for me was yet another unitard. This one was black and had a large “S” printed on the chest. Already ready. I took off my pants and shirt and hung them in the closet. Socks and underwear went on a shelf. I slipped into the unitard, my uniform. My uniform to become Susan’s superhero. My uniform for serving Susan. Unlike the unitards Susan had me wear before, this one had two zippers, the regular one and one in the crotch. That would be…that will be convenient. I hope. But I still had to deal with the main zipper, the one that goes up my back. At least that’s what it’s supposed to do. I have to find some way to get it zipped. To be dressed for Susan. So she will be proud of me. But..How? The answer was hanging in the closet. What if…What if I took a clothes hanger, and hooked the zipper tab–and used the hanger as a handle to pull the zipper up? That should work. It has to work…and amazingly enough, it did work! Of course it took some struggle, some twisting and turning, but I managed to do it. Susan will be happy. Happy with me. Now I was changed. Dressed in my unitard. Changed into Susan’s superhero. No longer just Matthew. No longer… But there was something else…something missing. I noticed, on top of the dresser, there was something. Actually two somethings. Small somethings. Padlocks. Susan would want me to…She would want me to…choose. I looked at the padlocks, they were identical. They were both open, but there were no keys. The keys must be with Susan. She would be holding them. The keys will be safe. I picked up one of the padlocks. It should be, it should be easy to just…behind my neck…work the shank through the zipper pull and the ring…and close the padlock. It should be easy. It should be. I just have to choose. Just choose. Choose.

“Click!” That was loud. Now the zipper was locked. I didn’t have the key to unlock it. I was locked in my unitard until Susan lets me out. I am changed. I chose. To be helpful to Susan. Because that’s what she wants. And it’s important to please her and make her happy. Isn’t that…isn’t that…right? I think it is. I picked up the second padlock and took it with me to the kitchen. Just in case Susan wants it…

Back in the kitchen I was very helpful and washed the dishes from Susan’s breakfast. Then I dried them. Then I put them away. If I had stopped to think about it, I probably should have been very self-conscious. Wearing a unitard. A locked unitard. And doing manual labor for a woman that I still didn’t know very well. Here in her house. Making myself vulnerable to her. Allowing her…allowing her to put me in situations where I am giving up control. And putting her in control. Was this what I wanted when I offered to carry her bags that day in the mall? But…I chose this, didn’t I? That’s what Susan would say. She did not force me, did she?

In fact, I didn’t think about those things. At least consciously. What I was thinking about is pleasing Susan and making her happy. Being her superhero. And, in fact, I was feeling increasingly comfortable wearing a unitard and being locked in it, for her. Because wearing it shows that I am here to help and give her my service. And it is what she wants. And I want to please her. And…and…and… Choices. Choose. Surrender. I did that…didn’t I? Have I already gone too far, or…not far enough?

The muffled click of heels told me that Susan was approaching. Suddenly I realized that any doubts I had would not be able to stand up to her presence. Once I saw her or even heard her voice my need would overwhelm everything else. She knows that. She MUST know that. I can’t resist her. I don’t even want to. I choose not to.

“Oh good, you’re all dressed! Let me see!” I had made Susan happy. I stood still as Susan circled me and looked me over. “Mmmm.” She tugged on the padlock at the back of my neck. “Nice and secure. Thank you, Matthew.”

“I, uh, well…” I related how I figured out how to do up my zipper. And as for the padlock… “…it seemed like the thing to do..”

“Yes. That’s good. That was a good choice, Matthew.”

“I…Uh…Thank you.”

“I had this unitard made up especially for you.”

“Uh. Yeah. “S”. S for superhero.”

“Mmmm. Yes. But also “S” for service.”

“That too.” Of course. I should have seen that…

“And I can see you like wearing it…!” Susan laughed.

“Ah…Uh…” “S” for saluting.

“I’m sure you noticed, that this one has a zipper in the crotch. So you’ll be able to use the bathroom without needing to take the unitard off or even needing me to unlock it. That would come in handy, say if you were wearing it for a long period of time.”

“Ah, yes…very…practical…” Call me crazy, but somehow I think Susan will have no trouble finding ways to keep me in this unitard for long periods of time. But that’s okay, isn’t it?

“Why don’t you give me a demonstration?”

“What…? Unzip it…here?”

“Yes, Matthew. Right here. Right now, please.” There was definitely a warning in Susan’s voice…

“I, Uh…” I was feeling very embarrassed. Of course Susan has seen me…all of me…but… What choice did I have, really? So I unzipped the crotch zipper and…

“Well, you certainly ARE very excited to be here helping me. Thank you, Matthew.”

“I…uh…well…” Make that extremely embarrassed.

“Now, I have something else I would like you to wear for me while you’re here today…if you don’t mind…”

“Yes, of course. I’d be glad to…” Another hood?

“I haven’t told you what it is yet. Have you already made your choice?”

“I…oh…” Uh-Oh…

It finally sunk in that Susan had with her a small notepad and a velvet pouch. She opened the pouch and spread the contents on the kitchen table. Clear plastic rings of various sizes…some plastic pins and another piece of clear plastic that had holes in it and was shaped like a tube but also not vaguely shaped like an…oh… I’ve seen these…on the Internet…!

“I’m sure you know what this is…”

“I…well, I’ve seen…on the Internet…”

“I’m not surprised. It seems to be quite a common fantasy among men like you…”

“I…oh…uh…” Huh? Men like…like me? But…but I… Wait. This means Susan wants me to… “You want me to…wear…this…uh?”

“Chastity Device. It’s a CB-3000. And, yes, I would appreciate it if you would wear it for me today…”

“I…um…” I can choose. I could say no. I could leave. I could just end this and go home. I could… But of course I can’t. “I’ll…I’ll do it…”

“Wonderful, Matthew! Thank you very much. I think this will be a good learning experience. For you.”

“Learning…experience…?”

“Yes. Think about our discussion yesterday. Why do YOU think I would like you to wear this chastity device?”

“To…in order to…” Why? I thought about what we discussed yesterday. My behavior. Punishment? Pleasure? Then a thought hit me. “To remind me. To remind me not to be selfish. Not to put my personal pleasure ahead of giving you my service…”

“Yes, Matthew. That’s it exactly! You have admitted to me how much you enjoy being helpful. How your service gives you pleasure. And, because of your unitard, that is something you cannot hide. And you have admitted how selfish that pleasure has made you. So by wearing this chastity device you will be reminded to focus on your service and not on your own pleasure. And by choosing to agree to wear it will show me that you understand what is important. I think that makes sense, don’t you?”

“It…that…I think…that makes sense…” It seems to make sense. But I thought…I thought a guy would have to wear one of those things so he wouldn’t be able to cheat. Of if he already did cheat. Or if he… But when you think about it, I guess it IS kind of like I am cheating. It’s like I have been using Susan for my own pleasure. And that is wrong. Thinking of myself, my own pleasure when I should be thinking about being helpful. Because being helpful and making Susan happy is what’s important. Isn’t that right?

“Good. I’m glad you agree, Matthew. Now let’s try it on, and I’ll give you your assignment for today. Then I have to get to my appointment.”

“Uh…yes. okay.”

Susan went to the freezer and pulled out one of those flexible cold packs that you might use on an injury and handed it to me. “Here, this ought to reduce the ’swelling’.” It was all too effective. “Now this ring will go behind your testicles, and the tube part…and the pin…” Susan next handed me the various parts and luckily enough I was able to get them assembled on me without too much difficulty. Luckily I was pretty numb at this point. Yes. How lucky for me…!

“I see you brought that second padlock with you. That was a good choice, Matthew.” Yes. How extremely lucky for me. “I’m sure you must have guessed that the two padlocks are part of a set. I only need one key to unlock either or both of them. Isn’t that convenient?”

“Oh, yes. Very…convenient.” How lucky can one guy get?

“So, we just need to put the second padlock through the hole on the pin there and then…Matthew?”

“Ah…” Another choice. I have a choice, don’t I? Or do I? It seems that Susan is leading me down a one-way street and there are no U-turns allowed. But…I’m not, I’m not really unhappy that this is happening am I? I mean, I shouldn’t…be letting her do this to me, should I? I should be…I should be…a man? And yet…deep down I know that this, this is…this is what I want. Helping Susan. Pleasing her and making her happy. That is what is important. That is…MY pleasure.

“Yes.”

“Click!”

“Thank you, Matthew. For putting your trust in me, again.”

I couldn’t say anything. But I felt, I felt the enormity of the situation. It hit me suddenly like a weight pressing on my shoulders. Or, to be more precise, a weight pulling downward between my legs. I was suddenly VERY aware of my penis and the situation it was now in. It had shrugged off the cold and was now trying to force it’s way out of it’s plastic prison. Naturally to no avail. I felt it squeezed in it’s confinement, closed in on all sides as if…as if it was being held tightly in Susan’s hand. In her inescapable grasp.

“I really appreciate you doing this for me.” Susan then kissed me on the cheek. “Oh! My lipstick. let me…” She moved to wipe it off, then her thumb hesitated. “On second thought, I think I’ll just leave it…” I felt the heat from her kiss linger on my cheek. Her lipstick…

“Ah!” My penis…so accustomed to ’saluting’ for Susan was finding it difficult to adapt to it’s new surroundings.

“Oh, does it hurt?” I sense Susan is not all that concerned…

“Uh, its…It’s okay…I’ll manage…”

“Good. But perhaps it’s best if you put it away for now. Though I must admit it does look cute– all snugly secured in there.”

“Ah…” That’s not…not helping. I zipped up the unitard’s crotch. Perhaps ‘things’ will calm down…

“Now, Matthew…” Thankfully Susan changed the subject. She flipped through some pages on her notepad. “What I want today is for you to go through the moving boxes in the garage. When I packed them I marked them according to what’s inside. You will be looking for all the ones marked with the number ‘nine’. There should be…there should be nine of them. Nine boxes of ‘nine’. Bring them in and put them in that room that will be my office. Okay? Now I’ve got to get to my appointment. But I’ll be back in a few hours…”

“Absolutely. I’ll…I’ll get right on it.” Of course I will. What else was I going to do? I should have thought of something better to say. But it was kind of hard to think right now. My situation has me…completely off balance. Or more accurately, the situation that Susan has me in. If I didn’t know better…I’d say that Susan is doing this on purpose. Wait. Of course Susan IS doing this on purpose! And it’s working…

Susan left. I set off for the garage to start my task for the day. Halfway out the door I realized that there was a possibility that someone…who happened to be passing by…and happened to look down the driveway at just the right time and at just the right angle, just might possibly see me. See a man wearing a black Lycra unitard with a large “S” on his chest and an odd CB-3000 shaped bulge in his… Uh oh. I ran as fast as I could. Which was not all that fast because something was weighing me down. Something between my legs. Something that I am wearing for Susan. Because she wants me to. Because… Great. Now I’m REALLY aware of it…!

Moving boxes. Each one has a number written on it. 1, 3, 8, 4, 6…There’s a nine. There’s… They’re not together. The boxes are totally random. I’m going to have to go through the whole pile to find all the ‘nines’. I’m going to have to…be helpful. “Ah! this thing is…tight…”

If that wasn’t punishment, I don’t want to know what is. It took me hours. Moving all the boxes around to find all the ‘nine’ boxes. All nine of them. Carrying them one by one from the garage to the house. While avoiding being seen. At least I hope no one saw me. And each time I brought a box into her house I would have to pass by at least one mirror. And I would see in my refection, my situation. The unitard I am wearing for her. The padlock. The CB-3000. And…and the mark of her lipstick on my cheek. It must be my imagination but it seems to be getting darker, more visible. Shouldn’t it be fading? What is happening to me? Shouldn’t I be… Shouldn’t I be having second thoughts? Or even third thoughts? What is important? Susan is important. Doing this task for Susan…making her happy… That is what’s important. Isn’t that right? That’s what I think.

I heard some familiar music coming from Susan’s guest bedroom. My cellphone. Who could be calling me? I hesitated to answer it. What if, what if by talking on the phone someone could tell what I was wearing? What I am doing? What would they think? What if…? The number calling seemed unfamiliar. I answered anyway.

“Uh, hello?”

“Oh, good. Hello Matthew”

“Ah. Susan. Hello.” It’s Susan…!

“Are you busy?”

“Ah, yes. Actually I found all the boxes you wanted and I’m just about done bringing them in.”

“Very good! Gold star for you, My superhero!”

“Ah!…ow…” Sometimes I wish her praise didn’t affect me so much. Like when I’m wearing this…thing…on me…

“Oh, are you okay?”

“Uh, I’m fine…I’m okay…” You know I think Susan knows full well what would happen to me wearing this CB-3000…

“Listen, Matthew. I’ll be home soon. And I was thinking about lunch…”

“Well, I could…I’m sure I could make something….”

“Oh, really? That would be very good of you, Matthew. Very thoughtful.”

“It would be my…I’d be glad to.”

“I’ll certainly be looking forward to it. See you soon…”

“I’ll be here…” As If I’d be going anywhere? Like this?

Now, what to make for lunch? I’m a pretty good cook, if I DO say so myself, but…given the situation…MY situation, I think I should choose something simple. Like soup. That’s pretty easy. You just need to open a can. And of course heat it up. And cheese. On bread. In the toaster. I think I’ll call it a ‘grilled cheese sandwich’. I got to work. I was so busy being helpful that I didn’t even hear Susan arrive until she came through the door…”

“Hello, Matthew. Mmmm, something smells wonderful.”

“Oh, Susan. Thank you. It’s not much…”

“No, it looks great! I can’t wait to eat. It’s very nice to come home to find a nice meal waiting for me. Thank you, Matthew.”

“Oh, I …my pleasure…” I wish it was my pleasure, but right now my pleasure is…a little cramped…

“So, shall we eat here in the kitchen, or would you like to eat in the living room again?”

“I think…I’d like…the living room…”

“Hmmm, okay. You can put our lunch on that tray and bring it in, I’ll find something for us to drink.”

I brought the soup and sandwiches on a tray into the living room and put it on the table which was now next to Susan’s chair. I found the cushions I had sat on before and arranged them for me to sit on. So I could sit at Susan’s feet. Because that is where I choose to sit. Susan came in with some iced tea and sat down in her chair. I took my place on the cushions below her. She lifted her feet up and offered them to me. No words were necessary. I removed her shoes and placed them to the side. Susan lowered her stocking feet and rested them on my leg. I was once again serving as Susan’s footrest. It felt…right. She handed me a plate and we enjoyed our lunch…

“Mmmm. Delicious, Matthew.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s so nice to be able to sit here like this, have a meal and just relax and enjoy ourselves…”

“Yes…” Actually, while it was great to be sitting here with Susan like this, I wasn’t what you would call relaxed. Susan sank back in her chair and I could feel the tension drain out of her. And I could feel her silky stocking feet resting on my leg. So close. So close to the part of me that was certainly not relaxed, but was in fact, cramped and a bit uncomfortable. And it was taking what little willpower I had left not to look, not to stare at them…her stocking feet…my weakness…!

“So, Matthew, I hope you didn’t have too much trouble finding all the boxes…”

“No…not really…” Yes, I actually lied to Susan.

“The movers just piled them haphazardly. And I wanted them arranged so all the numbers were together.”

“Well, actually I…l figured that. So when I was finding all the ‘number nine’ boxes I arranged all the other boxes so their numbers were all together too. I thought that it would make things easier…for us later…”

“Really, Matthew?” Susan smiled. “That’s wonderful. That was very thoughtful of you. Thinking of your fellow helpers like that…”

“Well, yes, I…” I guess I was. Not so selfish after all…

“Good for you, Matthew. This was a positive ‘learning experience’ for you as I had hoped. I think you deserve a reward. I’d like to give you one, if you’ll accept it…”

“I…well, yes. Absolutely!” A reward, from Susan. Finally! How could I choose to refuse it?

“But, there is still the matter of your punishment. You remember, from this morning. I believe you asked for a further punishment for your behavior yesterday. Didn’t you?”

“Um…” Did I? But that was so long ago…Surely Susan would let this pass…? “Well, I guess I might have…”

“What WILL I do with you, My superhero…?”

Of course, I wanted to say, ‘anything you want’, but I said nothing as Susan sat there thinking… Finally she came to some sort of decision and stood up.

“Come…” Susan held out her hand to me. I took it and rose. Susan then led me by the hand over to the sofa and we sat down together. It felt unfamiliar yet nice sitting there with her holding hands, it was as if we were actually a couple. It struck me then that in the time we had known each other and with all that has happened, we had yet to be really intimate. Of course Susan has seen all there is of me to see, and had learned many of my secrets and my weakness. Yet there was one line we hadn’t crossed… Suddenly images popped into my head of Susan and I, in each others arms, making out like teenagers with our hands roaming and groping each other. It was powerful, primal and exciting. Perhaps a little too exciting…!

“OW!…” Damn. This thing…

“Oops! Just think of it as a little reminder. So that you’ll remember what’s important…”

“Believe me. I do. I was…I was thinking about you…” I could feel Susan’s eyes on me, studying my face, looking for…looking for something…

“I’m glad you agreed to wear that CB-3000 for me today, Matthew. I really think it was good for you. And I really appreciate it.”

“I…It was…” Well I can’t really say it was ‘my pleasure’, can I?

“And I see you didn’t wipe my lipstick off your cheek…”

“I, uh…” How could I? After she marked me like that? I can still feel it…

“Let me give you another one. As your reward…” Susan pulled me closer. She was going to kiss me again. Her lips would be on me, maybe even on my lips…maybe even we would…

Susan left her mark on my other cheek. The hot sweetness of her kiss spread all over my body. I didn’t need a mirror to know that this lipstick mark would be as visible as the first…

“I…ah, ow…”

“My poor superhero…”

“It’s…okay, I’ll manage…”

“But I hate to see you suffer. Hmm. Suffer. ‘S’ ”

“Yeah.” Great. One of those ‘S’ words. But I can stand it for Susan. I can. If I choose to. Because I know what’s important. But…of course if Susan was truly concerned about my ’suffering’ she could easily end it if she chose to. And grant me pleasure. If she chose to. But..but that’s HER choice. For me, what’s important is making her happy. Even if…even if I have to suffer somewhat. Because my service to her comes before my pleasure. No, it IS my pleasure. That’s right. Isn’t it? Yes. I believe it is. That’s…that’s why I am…why I agreed to wear the CB-3000 locked on my penis. To remind me what is important. Service. ‘S’ Being Susan’s superhero…

“…Just one more task for today, Matthew…”

“Oh, yes…”

“I just need you to bring in the things from my car. Bring them in and put them on my desk. Meanwhile, I’ll take care of our lunch dishes.”

“But I can…”

“I know.”

And I knew better than to press the issue. I went out to Susan’s car. She had a new computer. With a new monitor, printer and all the accessories. I brought them in to her new office-slash-library room and put them on the desk.

“Would you…I’d be happy to set it up for you…”

“Very kind of you, Matthew. But I’ll take care of it. Besides, it’s about time you got going…”

“Ah…yes…” Again I knew better than to press the issue. Even though leaving Susan was not something I wanted to do. I still have some helpfulness left in me. I still… But, it’s not about me, is it…?

“Here.” Susan gave me a small velvet pouch. “Hold out your hand…” Susan then placed a tiny key in my palm. ‘My’ key…? “Go get yourself changed.”

So I did. I went down to the guest bedroom. And I changed. Back into just Matthew. It felt sad. Unlocking myself. Peeling of my unitard, my uniform. Even taking off the CB-3000. Why was it sad? How could I feel uncomfortable in my own clothes? What’s happening to me? What is important? I hung my unitard back in the closet and put the padlocks and the CB-3000 in its velvet pouch on top of the dresser. I miss them already.

Susan was already done unpacking her new computer. No doubt she will have it up and online very soon. “My company gives all us department heads computers to use at home. It’s the very latest. The young man from our IT department was quite helpful…”

“Very nice…” Yes, I’m sure he was. And I’m jealous. But…

“I can even do video conferencing at home with the built-in webcam.”

“Good…”

“Do you have a webcam, Matthew?”

“No. Ah, I don’t.”

“Well, the nice young man was thoughtful enough to give me some extra ones. Just in case…”

“Wow. Excellent….” I’m not surprised, am I? Susan does inspire us to be helpful. (Though I still wish I was the only one. But I’m trying…)

“And I’ll be able to check up on you when you’re at home. Maybe have a chat as well.”

“I…that would be nice…” It would, wouldn’t it? Having Susan checking up on me at home…

Susan walked me out to my car. I got in, put my new webcam on the passenger seat and rolled down the window.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me today, Matthew. I really appreciate all your help.”

“Thank you.”

Susan then leaned in and gave me another kiss on my cheek.

“When you get home…you’ll set up your new webcam. Okay?”

“Oh, ah, of course.”

“And don’t forget to wash your face!” That brought a giggle from Susan, and from me as well. Then she turned serious.

“And as for this…” The now familiar feeling of her hand on me. “I’ll let you know…”

I drove home very carefully.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

Later that evening the telephone rang.

“Hello-”

“Hello, Matthew.”

“Susan. Hello.”

“Are you busy?”

“Not at all…”

“Good. I was hoping to try out the webcams. Sort of a test run.”

“Sure, let my just sign in…”

“Very good. See you soon!”

I got online and signed in. Soon I was connected and was looking at a picture of a familiar room. Suddenly the view shifted and turned and I was looking at Susan. I felt a warm tingly feeling just seeing her. Even though it had only been a few hours…

“Hello, Matthew. Can you see me okay?”

“Yes. Fine. You look…you look great!”

“Thank you. I can see you too.”

“Good…”

“Now let’s try…” The view shifted again. And suddenly I was looking at a foot. Then another. Silky stocking feet with sexy toenail polish. Susans feet! “How’s this? is it coming in clear?”

“Oh, goog. urgle.”

“What’s that?

“Oh, it’s fine…”

“Good I’m glad. I know how much you like to see them… And I noticed how you avoided looking at my feet during lunch. I thought you might enjoy seeing them now…”

“I…oh…yeah…”

“Now let’s check the resolution on your end. Stand up and take off your clothes.”

“Oh…I…”

“Now, please…”

“My. You ARE excited to see my stocking feet. Thank you, Matthew.”

“I…uh…”

“Now take your clothes and spread them out on the floor in front of you.”

“Okay…”

“And now I want you to kneel. Get on your knees. And tilt your webcam so I can see you…”

“I…okay…” What is Susan planning?…Is she…?

“Now look at my sexy stocking feet. See my toes wiggle. You like that don’t you?”

“Agg…!”

“Yes you do. You can’t resist. You don’t want to….”

“Ogg…!”

“Imagine my feet on you. Stroking you. Sliding all over. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Gah…!”

“Go ahead, Matthew. I give you my permission. Look at my feet and stroke…!”

“Ah gggg…”

If I had been capable of rational thought at that moment I would have been humiliated. Or at least I should have been. Right? But I was too far gone. I AM too far gone. Because there is only one thing that is important. And that is…

“Very good, Matthew…that’s it…now do it…do it for me… For me…!”

………….

When I regained my senses, I could hear Susan laughing. At me? Or, with me? Does it matter?

“Thank you, Matthew. That was quite a show. I really enjoyed it.”

“Oh. Ah….I’m not really sure what just happened. But I think I enjoyed it too.”

“Oh, you did.”

“Yes…”

“Now just one last thing…”

“Oh…?”

“You need to do some laundry…”

by Shallara (c) 2009
In tribute to Lady Julia

(continued from part two)

An introduction to penalties

Ariella loved playing backgammon with Shallara. She usually lost, but the thrill of the game and Shallara’s company excited her. She had grown to accept herself as the submissive in their relationship, and she would now have it no other way. Plumpish, without being too overweight, Ariella was a cheerful person, who seemed to bring out Shallara’s kinky and assertive personality.

It was Shallara who had introduced her to the game. She vividly remembered the day it had happened. Shallara had shown her how to lay out the board and how to move the stones. It had been fun and then there had been an exciting rush to see who get there stones off the board first. And in her first game, she pipped Shallara to the post. Well, it was all the luck of the dice, and she couldn’t see how it was possible to stack the odds in any player’s favor.

Shallara had gone out to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate before the second game. She returned, not only with two mugs, but with a large wooden spoon. “A bit big to stir the chocolate with that!”, had been Ariella’s comment. “It’s not for the chocolate, silly, it’s for the penalties!” came the retort. Ariella looked at her quizzically, but she soon got her answers. A few things very quickly became abundantly clear to Ariella: backgammon was not a game of chance; Shallara was an expert at manipulating the odds in her favor; and a penalty, received whenever anyone’s stones were knocked of the board and onto the bar, resulted in a painful smack with spoon on the bum.

Time and time again, Ariella found herself bent over and holding her knees, while Shallara popped her on her bum with the spoon. At first she hesitated; it was embarrassing to have to poke her bum out for the spanks. She felt embarrassed and self conscious, and as the number she received mounted, it became harder and harder to offer herself up. “It’s the rules, pet…you have no option”, she was chided. Lumping it, she would bend and take it. Her hands seemed to be on springs, flipping back to rub her bottom after each smack. Shallara watched with amusement as the red rings began to paint a lovely red pattern on the milky white skin, and each new addition brought a new tone of ‘ouch’ from Ariella. She did have the pleasure of returning the favor a few times, but by the end of the game, her bottom was a deep crimson, bright circles of glowing pain tattooed onto the chubby cheeks.

Let the game begin

But this time, Shallara had said there would be no physical pain inflicted by the victor. And the proposal for penalties seemed to have been watered down to the point of being ridiculous! Each penalty would oblige the holder of the bumped stone to drink half a glass of water and neither player was allowed to go to the bathroom to relieve herself until five minutes after all her penalties were paid. Shallara was likely to win; she usually did. And that submissive streak in her allowed her to agree to almost anything Shallara proposed.

And so it was that she found herself kneeling on the on the floor at Shallara’s apartment, while Shallara sat in comfort on the sofa. Under Shallara’s direction, she had pulled the coffee table out into the center of the room in front of the sofa, and they were using it as the games table for the backgammon board.

The dice rolled and with long slender fingers, Shallara moved her stones, knocking another two pieces off the board and onto the bar. She tapped the board impatiently with fire-engine red nails. In a takeoff of a authoritarian domme, she assertively instructed her : “Drink again, girl !”. Ariella reached down to her side and poured a glass of water, downing it in three long gulps. She could feel the pressure starting to build up in her bladder, but she knew the rules that she had agreed to. With a final roll, Shallara finished the game, leaving Ariella with six stones on the board.

Cheerfully, Shallara tapped the board as she tripped out of the room on her way to the bathroom. She had her own penalties to relieve herself of ! And it was then that the hidden severity of the penalties struck Ariella with full force. As she heard the toilet flush, her own bladder rapidly began to complain. The water seeped through her body, making her fuller and fuller. With intense discomfort she drank the last three glasses of water, and settled won to wait the mandated 5 minutes before she too could go and relieve herself. The pressure had moved beyond her bladder, right down to that point behind her sex from which it cried to be released. The minutes seemed to take for ever to pass, and with only two minutes behind her, the discomfort seemed unbearable.

Shallara returned and sat on the couch, sipping a glass of red wine, smiling at her discomfort. “Having fun yet, Pet ?’ she asked, as Ariella shifted around. “Please Shallara, you have to let me go !”. The plea sounded desperate, but fell on deaf ears, and the minutes ticked on. At last she felt that she had reached her limit. “Shallara, please you have to let me out……I can’t hold it anymore”

A look of mock concern crossed Shallara’s grinning face. “Two more minutes to go my love….I am sure you can do that just for me ?”

A trip down the stairs

Ariella sat on the couch resting her head on Shallara’s shoulder. The game and discomfort behind her, she felt warm, protected and relaxed. Shallara’s mesmerizing voice seemed to be taking her down a flight of steps to a far away world. The hypnotic melodies from Enya’s Orinoco Flow’s resonated in her mind, taking her deeper and deeper. Shallara’s gentle fingers massaged her wrist and seemed to lead her into the dungeon. It all seemed so right and not terrifying at all.

Torches flamed on the walls, infusing the room with their earthy, smoky scents. A fire blazed in the hearth, making her cheeks feel flushed and alive. The stone floor clean and cool under her feet, and her toes, with their nails gleaming red, tested their dark, clean hardness. Chunky wooden frames of different shapes and size, all fitted out with black iron rings were spread out around the dungeon, a padded spanking bench sitting at it’s center.

And in the distant background, in another world, Ariella heard a doorbell chime. She barely felt Shallara disengage herself and gently lay her back against the couch. Shallara was talking to someone in the distance, but it all seemed so unimportant as she looked around and visually explored this playground to which her Lady Shallara had brought her. With everything feeling so safe and secure, Ariella felt herself drifting off into the dreamy world of dungeons and spanking benches that she flowed from her subconscious mind, waiting to be rejoined by her Lady Shallara.

(to be continued)

~ ~ ~

Do you have a case you would like Shallara to treat? If so, drop a short note to Shallara at ymail dot com and let her know what the issue you want dealt with, and what your recommended therapy might be. You might just find it written up on the Femdom Fantasies site !

by Shallara (c) 2009

A tribute to Lady Julia

(continued from part one)

Tim Sharpe stood outside the apartment door and knocked hesitantly. He glanced around self consciously, hoping that he would not be seen by any of the other tenants entering their own apartments. Well dressed in a dark business suit, tall and well built, he exuded confidence. Like any executive, he had a sense of self that seemed to fill up the space around him, so the casual observer would have wondered at the timid knock. He hesitated, chewing slightly on his lower lip, and knocked harder. The plush carpets seemed to soak up the sound of the knock, but he was rewarded when the door opened partially to let him in.

His trepidation was not without cause. Tim’s drive into the management ranks seemed unstoppable only a day ago. But now it all seemed to be crashing down on him. He broke into a cold sweat every time he thought back to the meeting that he had been called into with the Human Resources Vice president, Cheryl Stern yesterday. The meeting had been held in her office and at her instigation. The tone was very somber – charges of harassment had been leveled at Tim by two of his female subordinates. Tim was well known to be a misogynist. He frequently put down his female staff, and was barely civil to them, so he was not really surprised that one of them had complained. It was the seriousness with which it was being treated that shocked him !

He was stunned by the option that Cheryl Stern laid out for him: he could either fight the charges in a tribunal, or he could take a course of sensitivity training, at his own expense, with a therapist called Shallara. Tim had snorted, and blustered, but realized that he had no option.

He now stepped through the door into Shallara’s apartment, just a bit puzzled that this meeting was taking place in an apartment rather than in consulting rooms. As the door opened wider, and as he took in the scene, he wondered at the setup. He walked through the entrance lobby into a luxuriously furnished sitting room. The walls were a rich creamy color, and the cream carpets felt soft underfoot. A fire burned in the hearth, casting dancing red patterns on the wall. Crystal light fittings glittered on the walls, and cream colored, silky curtains looped across the window. One end of the room was taken up by a custom-fitted oak bookshelf with cupboards at one end. His eyes took in and widened as he spied the leather covered trestle resting at the one end of the bookshelf, underneath which a small wooden case sat. A large cage, perhaps three foot square stood in the other corner, but he couldn’t figure out what on earth it could be for.

And as heavy an impact as the opulent room made on him, it was the lady that had opened the door that quickly made his heart pound. He felt dry mouthed and suddenly large and clumsy, as she reached out to shake his hand. Short blonde spiky crowned a lithe, but short, body. Her fire-engine red lipstick stood out against a fair, flawless complexion. He seemed to be drawn into her eyes, as reached out to take her extended hand. A simple gold chain snaked around her wrist. His eyes took in her cream business suit, the cleavage, and strayed down to her feet. Red toenails peeked out from the strappy silver sandals.

As a slightly amused smile played on her lips, he struggled to regain his equilibrium. A jolt of testosterone seemed to hit him as he recovered, and a thought flashed through his mind that this couldn’t be all bad. A grin crossed his face. In a flash he had mentally undressed her, and he decided that this would be his next conquest. Silently he made a bet with himself that within two weeks, he would have his way with her in bed.

Tim found himself being taken by the hand and led across to the couch. He sat stiffly as she walked across to a cabinet and took a crystal glass, into which she dropped a couple of pieces of shaved ice. Her hands mesmerized him as she picked up a decanter and poured a tot over the ice. Barely a word had been spoken and he felt his hands becoming clammy and edgy.

But the mood changed very quickly as Shallara moved back and sat on the couch beside him. She handed over the glass and he savored the aromatic smell that drifted up. Tim fancied himself as a Scotch connoisseur, and as the first drops of the golden liquid touched his tongue, he recognized the unmistakable taste of a Laphroaig pure malt. And as the warmth of the fire reached him, a sense of comfort suddenly seemed to overcome him. In just a few moments he found himself easily chatting to this enigmatic lady that perched on the edge of the couch next to him.

As they talked, he found that it was her that seemed to be leading the conversation. The warmth of the fire in the hearth, the gentle fuzziness in his head brought on by the alcohol and her rhythmic tones, seemed to be taking him down somewhere he had never been before. A feeling of well-being and relaxation seemed to overcome Tim, and the physical closeness of this stunning therapist seemed to feel so right. A self satisfied smile played on his mind as he mentally scored this conquest. He had barely had to exert himself in charming her, and here she was, all but sitting on his lap !

Her sultry voice whispered into his ear. It seemed to be speaking to his very inner soul. It was even more intoxicating than the malt that had helped put him into this state. He felt her take the tumbler from his relaxed fingers, and moments later he felt her fiddling gently with his little finger. So intimate and it all felt so right. And as she reached across and lightly lifted his left hand, he could smell her seductive scent that seemed to drift off her neck. Her voice whispered on and on, seeming to say the same things over and over again. But he didn’t want it to stop. His whole consciousness seemed to open up and absorb her every message.

All too soon, it seemed to be over. As Shallara brought him out of his reverie, she saw Tim look down at his hands. A puzzled look came over his face as he looked at the two silver rings, one on each of his pinkies. He looked across to her for an explanation; she gave him a wicked grin. “You can’t take them off, you know? The one on your right will be with you for the rest of your life. Deep, deep down in your subconscious, it is now linked to an imaginary band that circles your balls. If EVER you speak down to a lady again, you will come to regret it”.

The feeling that he had experience just moments before vanished. A fire flamed in his eyes. “You bitch, you…”. Tim found himself doubled over in pain as the ring he could never see tightened around his scrotum. He looked up, confused and scared. “Are you OK Tim ? Apologize. Tim, and it will all be ok” he heard her say through the mist of pain. She sound so concerned, so compassionate. A few minutes later, after an apology that had seemed to stick in his throat, Tim found himself wondering how she could be so compassionate, yet so dispassionate at the same time. As he was guided to the door, he felt surprised at how quickly the pain and discomfort had dissipated as soon as the apology was made.

Emboldened, and remembering the bet he had made with himself, he turned to Shallara. Staring deep into his eyes, he thrust off the humiliation of the previous moments, and drew on seemingly endless reserves of self confidence. “When can I see you again? Perhaps a candle lit dinner this evening? I know this really romantic restaurant”. Shallara’s laugh seemed to chill him to the bone. “Tim, you won’t be seeing me again! You wouldn’t be of any use to me anyway!” She watched as he flushed. “You have seen what the ring on your right hand does. I forgot to explain the ring on your left. It’s like the opposite of a wedding band. I call it a chastity band. For as long as you are wearing it, you will not be able to have an erection. And remember, like the ring on your right hand – you are unable to remove them.”

The blood drained from his face. In a stuttering voice, he started to beg and plead for her to take it off. Shallara’s grin grew even wider. “There is one way to get it taken off – on a temporary basis, Tim. But you will always have to go and get it put back on. You can’t survive for more than a day without it Tim, without that dreadful pain you felt earlier returning. Remember that pain Tim ?….that one when you were rude to me ? The only person who can remove it for you, for that short sexual relief that you will soon come to need Tim, to dream about, to crave Tim, is….”

Shallara gave a dramatic pause as she let the information sink in’ “Who is it? You?”, he asked. He felt winded, as if he had just finished a marathon. His world had seemed to have collapsed around him. “It’s worse than that Tim, It’s not me”. She felt the heat flooding up between her thighs as she relished the moment of dominance. Most of her sessions had one of the magic moments, when it all came together, when she had her subject humbled and humiliated in a delightful way. It created a rush of sexual excitement that made her want to escape to some privacy and relive the moment while she pleasured herself physically.

“It’s Cheryl Stern, Tim, your HR VP. She is an old friend of mine, so I am sure she will give me updates on how you are doing with your female colleagues….and of course, an update on how often you request your chastity ring to be removed will always be fun to get ! We have an arrangement that whenever you ask, she will let me know. You won’t even be able to play with yourself Tom, without me knowing it !” She watched him close the door behind him, and pad down the corridor to face the reality that lay before him. It worse than the tribunal he had been offered – it was the reality of a female controlled life. And one in which his every orgasm would be monitored and reported. With a hold over him like that, life would never be the same – at office or at home.

Walking across to her bureau, Shallara sat down and rhythmically squeezed her thighs a few times, relishing the warm feelings and dampness. She flicked through the rest of the appointments she had booked for the week. Like Tim’s had been, the entries were simple: A symptom and a recommended therapy. The cases looked typical: from chauvinism to cheating, from bitchiness to pornography addiction. And in each case Shallara knew that the consultation would leave her feeling empowered and just a little …. aroused.

~

Do you have a case you would like Shallara to treat? If so, drop a short note to Shallara at ymail dot com and let her know what the issue you want dealt with, and what your recommended therapy might be. You might just find it written up on the Femdom Fantasies site !

by Matthew © 2009

(Continued from Part One)

A few days later…

The telephone woke me at the crack of eight AM. Well I HAD been up late working in my studio…

“Hello…”

“Hello Matthew.”

“Susan. Hi.”

“Are you busy?”

“Ah. Well…” Actually I was in the middle of a something…but…

“I was thinking that you might like to help me with a little painting project today…”

“I’d be happy to…” Like I could refuse?

“Good. I’ll expect you in an hour.”

——————————————————————————-

An hour later found me standing on Susan’s doorstep. Susan opened the door dressed in an old sweatshirt, blue jeans and a sunny smile.

“Ah, right on time. I really appreciate you helping me with this. I think we can get a lot done today.”

“I–it’s my pleasure.”

“Mmmm. Well, I think we’ll start in the smaller room.”

We went to the smaller of the two empty rooms. Susan had assembled drop cloths, brushes, rollers, paint trays, sanding blocks and of course buckets of paint in a neat stack in the middle of the room.

“I think this room will be sort of a home office-slash-library.” Susan explained. “I’ve decided on this color for the walls, and this for the trim.”

“That will be nice. It looks like there’s no holes to Spackle. And not too much sanding to do either. We can pretty much just paint.” I held up the duffel bag I brought with me. “I brought some grubby clothes to paint in. I didn’t want to get my good clothes all dirty like last time…”

“Aw, but you looked so cute in my robe! But actually, I had something else in mind.”

“Oh?”

“I was thinking a coverall might be appropriate…”

“Coverall? Oh, like what professional painters wear.”

“Something like that…” Susan opened the closet door and pulled out a garment on a hanger. It WAS a one-piece suit, but not at all like what I was picturing in my mind. I had been thinking of a cotton overall like a mechanic or painter would wear over his clothes. But this suit had feet. And it was black and shiny, like Lycra and would be very tight…a unitard! Well, I suppose technically you COULD call it a coverall…

“No…” Was my immediate thought. “Is that…a coverall? I couldn’t…”

“Well of course you can. It will stretch to fit you. I think it would be very practical for you to wear while painting.”

“Oh..uh…”

“Here.” Susan held it out to me and my hand automatically took it. “Go try it on. I want to see what you look like in it.”

So I went down the hall to the bathroom, took off all my clothes and proceeded to try and slip into this…unitard…

“The zipper goes in back.” Susan’s voice came from behind me. “I thought you might need some help.”

“I seem to be stuck…my legs…” Susan took the unitard from me, turned it around and proceeded to demonstrate.

“You roll up the legs like this…put your feet in first…then work the legs up…it’s like putting on pantyhose…”

“Oh…” Suddenly the room was very warm. Must be something with the thermostat. “But I never…”

“Oh, really?” Somehow she didn’t believe me. “…It’s okay, I understand. Now…ready to try this? Hmmm, I think you should take off your underwear first, it will look better…”

“I…don’t suppose it’s worth trying to argue…”

“No, it isn’t…”

I slipped off my boxer briefs and stood naked in front of her.

“Now. We roll up the legs, stick your feet in down to the end…work the legs up to the waist…pull the body up…now put your arms in the sleeves…” Susan helped me into the unitard. She stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Now you just do up the zipper…”

I felt really odd and awkward, wearing this…thing…and my arms flailed behind me as I tried to work the zipper up my back… “Can’t seem…to…reach…”

“Here, let me…” I turned so that Susan could do the zip. With the zipper fully up, the unitard was even tighter. It was an odd feeling being covered in tight Lycra from my neck down to my toes… “There now. Let’s see how you look.” Susan put her hands on my shoulders and steered me so that we could both look into the mirror. “Hmmm, not too bad…”

My first thought was that I wasn’t in as good a shape as I had been telling myself. This tight Lycra really shows off everything. My second thought was that…Uh-oh, this tight Lycra REALLY shows off everything! My third thought was that, hey, I actually look sort of good. My fourth thought was that…Uh-oh. Back to my second thought…

“Like a superhero.” Did I say that out loud?

“Oh, I like that! My own personal superhero. To help me whenever I need him…” There goes Susan’s smile again…

Did I mention the tight Lycra showing off everything? And the thermostat malfunction? Somehow the suit was getting tighter…at least part of it was…

“It looks like you enjoy wearing this ‘coverall’. I knew it would be a good idea….”

“Ah, well…I didn’t mean…I…uh…”

“It’s okay. It’s like a tribute, really. Showing me how much you enjoy helping.”

“Well, sure…I…”

“Why don’t we get started on the painting…”

“Ah, good…” That will help take my mind off…things…

Back to the room we went.

“You should be all set. I’ve got some errands to run so I’ll just get out of your way. I should be back around lunchtime so I’ll check up on you then. Sound good?”

“Oh. Ah, sure. I should be able to put a dent into this by then.” Actually I was expecting Susan to stay and for us to paint together. But…

“Great! I really appreciate this, Matthew.”

“I’m happy to help…”

“Yes, I can see that…” And with a laugh, Susan was gone.

So I set to work. Painting. Because she wanted me to. Dressed in this unitard. Because she wanted me to. All by myself. Alone in her house. Being helpful. Being her superhero. Wanting to make her happy. Wanting to please her. Wanting to make her smile. Wanting to hear her praise. Wanting to hear her say my name… So much for working taking my mind off ‘things’. So far my labors and my situation have been working to keep me erect, instead of letting it go down. ‘Tribute’ indeed…!

After a while I took a little break (just a little one) to let some paint dry. I looked around just a bit for my clothes but they were not in the bathroom or anywhere else nearby. Do I need to mention that I did not dare look in what I assumed was Susan’s bedroom? Susan must have put mt clothes somewhere so they would be out of the way. That must be it. Without my wallet and keys, I really couldn’t leave. And I certainly wouldn’t go out in public dressed like this. Not that I wanted to leave, or had anywhere I needed to go. But still…I was amazed at how Susan had maneuvered me into this predicament.

Around one o’ clock Susan returned.

“I see you did get quite a bit done! This is excellent! Good Job!”

“Thank you…” Hearing those words from her made me feel really good; made everything worthwhile.

“Just a few spots to touch up, here…and here…and then the rest of course…you might even be done by this evening…”

“I’ll try my best.”

Susan walked over to where a paintbrush rested in a tray and picked it up. She then came over to me and painted a large “S” on my chest. It tickled. “Now it’s official. You are MY superhero.”

“I…uh…well…” I guess that proves you can’t blush furiously, have a throbbing erection and think of anything to say all at the same time. Just not enough blood.

“I picked up some sandwiches at the Deli. Let’s break for lunch.”

“Goo…good.” I gulped.

We sat again in the living room. Susan in her chair, I sat cross-legged on a cushion below. Eating our sandwiches and drinking Iced tea. Chatting about the area; things to do, places to go, ordinary stuff. Yes, very ordinary. Except for the fact that she was dressed normally and I was wearing a black Lycra unitard with a big “S” painted on my chest. And she was sitting in a chair and I was sitting on a cushion on the floor beneath her. And she was resting her sneaker-clad feet on my leg, casually using me as a sort of footstool. As if that was the most normal thing in the World for her to do. Quite ordinary. And…quite nice…!

“You know, Matthew, I believe you still owe me something…”

“Um, I do?” What could it be?

“Yes, from last time.” She tapped my thigh with her left foot. “Remember?”

“Uh?” Her foot was moving closer…and my penis was doing it’s best to meet it halfway…

“You didn’t kiss this one.”

“Oh…I…”

“But it’s okay, I’ll forgive you for now. I think it’s best if you finish up your painting before it’s time for you to go. I’ll collect on it some other time…”

“Oh…Uh, Thank you.” Wait. What just happened?

Susan then got up and collected the remnants of our lunch. “I’ve got a few chores to do myself. So I’ll let you get back to your painting.”

“Ah, yes…” That’s all well and good, provided I can stand up in this condition. ‘Tribute’ indeed!

So…back to work I went. Painting. Being helpful. Being her superhero… Susan was busy too; doing what, I don’t know. I suppose if it’s something I need to know about, she would let me know when the time comes…right?

It took me all afternoon but finally the walls and trim had their fresh coat of paint. I cleaned the brushes and tidied up.

“This has been a big help to me, Matthew. I can’t thank you enough!”

“I–I’m glad to help.” Why did I feel like I should be thanking her?

“This will look great with the furniture…my desk…and the bookshelves…I think I’ll need even more bookshelves…”

Even I could see where this was going…being helpful…being helpful…

“Well, let’s get you changed, it’s about time for you to go.”

“Oh, okay…” so back down the hall to the bathroom we went. We paused at the bathroom door.

“Wait a sec, let me get the zipper.” Susan reached behind me and unzipped the unitard. I felt the cool air on my back and a release of tension. Well, not everywhere…! “Okay, in you go..” I went into the bathroom alone and found my clothes waiting for me in a neat pile. I slipped off the unitard and put my own clothes back on. To tell you the truth, it felt a bit strange to be wearing them again. I put the unitard back on it’s hanger and left it hanging on the back of the bathroom door.

Susan again walked me out to my car. I got in and rolled down the window.

“I think tomorrow we need to start early. I would like you to be here at six ‘o clock, if you don’t mind…”

“Six…oh, ah….sure…” That will be fun.

“Even though I’m not officially taking over yet, I have to attend an early meeting at work and I want to get you all set up before I go.”

“No problem. I’ll be here…”

“Great! I really appreciate how helpful you’ve been, Matthew. My superhero.”

“Oh, I…yes…I’m glad to do it…”

“I know.” Susan leaned into my car and kissed me on the cheek. Just like last time. And she reached in and gave the erection tenting my pants a squeeze. Just like last time. But this time she didn’t let go.

“Now Matthew, I want you to THINK about me when you get home, understand?”

“Oog.”

“And when you are THINKING about me, I want you to be on your knees. Okay?

“Nngh.”

“Good. See you bright and early!”

“Brearly!”

After a few minutes I realized she had gone. Funny it still felt like she was holding my… I drove home carefully and when I got there I did some thinking. About Susan. On my knees…

———————————————————————————

At six AM Susan answered her door wearing her pink terrycloth robe and fuzzy slippers.

“Good Morning Matthew. Did you have a nice evening?”

“Oh, uh…yes…”

“I’ll bet. Come in. Did you have breakfast?”

“Not really…didn’t get much time…”

“Good. then you can make something for both of us. I usually have toast, cereal and some fruit. And be a dear and start the coffee. It’s all set up, you just need to push the button.”

“Sure. Got it.”

“I’m just going to take a shower and get dressed. be back in a bit…”

I went into the kitchen and was helpful. Coffee. Toast. Cereal bowls. Cereal. I found a grapefruit and cut it in half. Soon everything was ready and laid out on the counter. Finally I heard the click of heels as Susan appeared, transformed into the picture of a successful business woman. She was wearing a suit with a skirt just below the knee, that had a slit that showed just a bit of thigh as she moved. (Legs…what color is her hose? Black? Off black? Charcoal? Or…? Will there be a quiz?) Even her face seemed to have an air of increased authority and polish. It took me a minute to realize that was due to her skillfully applied makeup…

We ate breakfast standing up at the counter. It will be nice to finally be able to move furniture in here… When we were done I did the dishes. Being helpful.

“Now I think the other room will be a spare bedroom. For when I have guests…”

We walked down to the larger empty room. Susan had already arranged the painting supplies and also….

“Take this. Let’s get you changed.” Susan held out a unitard to me. This one was blue. I took it. I walked down to the bathroom, took off all my clothes and slipped it on, just as she showed me yesterday. I noticed that this one had a little loop of fabric at the neck next to the zipper, with a little ‘D’ ring in it. What could that be for? I went back to where Susan was waiting.

“I still can’t seem to get the zipper…” How DO women deal with those?

“Here, let me.” I turned to give Susan access to my back. She ran the zipper up to my neck and stopped. But her hands didn’t leave. She was doing something else–I felt her hands manipulating something…then I heard a sharp ‘click’…! “There! All secured!”

“A…a padlock?” My hands felt around the back of my neck.

“Uh huh. Why? Is there a problem?” Obviously she didn’t think so.

“I..uh..well…”

“Just think of it as me watching over you when I’m not here…okay?”

“Ah…I guess…it’s okay…” The way she said it, it seems to makes sense…doesn’t it?

“Now we still have to make you official.” Susan walked over to one of the paint cans and opened it. She carefully dipped a brush in and came over to where I was standing. She then painted a large ‘S’ on my chest, like yesterday. It tickled. “My helpful superhero.”

“Glad to be of service!” I saluted. Why did I do that?

“Yes I can see that!” Susan laughed. I seem to be ’saluting’ in more ways than one…oh well… “Mmmm. ‘Service’ and ’saluting’ also begin with ‘S’, don’t they?”

“Ah, yes they do.”

“Can you think of any other appropriate words that begin with “S’, Matthew?”

“Well…I…”

“Why don’t you think about it? I’ve got to go attend this meeting. But I should be back around lunchtime. I’m thinking about picking up some chicken. would you like that?”

“Whatever you want…”

“I know. But I’m asking YOU. Would YOU like that?”

“Yes. Please. Thank you.”

“Good. Well, I’ll let you get started. I’ve got to be going too. I really appreciate all your help, Matthew.”

“I guess I’m just super-helpful.” I had to laugh.

“Well you’re certainly dressed for the part!” And with a click of her heels Susan was gone.

And so I spent all morning prepping and painting. Alone. In Susan’s house. Being helpful. Being her superhero. Wearing a blue unitard with a big ‘S’ painted on my chest. Being super-helpful. My clothes are gone (I checked), My wallet. Keys and cellphone too. But I don’t need them. I have nowhere to go, nothing else to do but be helpful. Because that’s what she wants. And I want to please her. Because I’m her superhero. And I’m wearing the costume to prove it. Locked on with a small padlock. Because she wants it that way. Because I’m her superhero…Because…Because…Because I’m hers…

Superhero. Superhero…super…service…saluting. Saluting. Service. Submissive. Submit. Susan. “S”. Susan’s Superhero. Superhero serving Susan. Superhero saluting Susan. Sexy Superhero Salutes, Serves Susan. Submissive Superhero Serves Susan. Sweet, stupendous, special, sophisticated. So many words beginning with ‘S’.

Did I miss one? Sultry, single, soul, shrine, shop, shoes, sweat, silly, suck, swallow, saint, sorrow. Sassy, spectacular, score, style, symbolic, spoil. What else…?

Shortly after one PM Susan returned. “I see my superhero is making progress. Good job Matthew!”

“Ah, thank you.”

“Ready for Lunch? Or do you need…a little ‘break’ first?”

“Ah, yes…I could…well…I could really use the bathroom…” After all this time, could you blame me?

Susan just looked at me expectantly.

“Um, if you could just unlock the unitard, please. So I can use the bathroom. Please.”

“Certainly, Matthew. All you have to do is ask. Come here.” I went over to Susan and turned around, giving her access to my back. I felt her unlock the padlock and felt the release of tension as she pulled the zipper down. “There. Off you go.”

I felt like a Schoolboy who had to beg his Teacher for a bathroom pass. How did it happen that Susan has taken such control over me? I shouldn’t have allowed her to do this to me, right? A grown man having his clothes taken away–having to wear a unitard (locked!!)–and having to ask permission to go to the bathroom! This is not what I wanted…is it?

Or…is it?

I used the bathroom and went to find Susan. She was in the kitchen unpacking our Lunch.

“Ready for Lunch, Matthew?”

“Ah, yes…except…”

“Do you need help? With your zipper?”

“Uh…yes…I guess so.”

“You guess so? Aren’t you sure?” Susan sensed my confliction. “Don’t you like being my helpful superhero?”

“Yes. Yes I do.” Yes I do.

“So?”

“Will you please help me with my zipper?”

“Certainly. All you have to do is ask. Come here.” I went over to Susan and offered my back to her. I felt her slowly ease the unitard’s zipper up my back, sealing me in, the unitard getting tighter and tighter…until… “Shall I lock it, Matthew?”

“Yes. Please.” The sound of the padlock clicking shut reverberated around the empty kitchen.

“Now will my helpful superhero carry our plates, while I get the drinks?”

“Yes, of course.”

Once again we ate in the living room. Once again Susan sat in her chair, and I sat at her feet on a cushion on the floor. Well, technically, under her feet as she had slipped off the heels she had worn to her meeting and was resting her pantyhose clad feet on my Lycra clad thigh. Once again I was a helpful footrest. Once again it felt nice. I kept glancing at her toes as they randomly wiggled as Susan’s feet casually rested on my leg. Looking at the shine of her toenail polish as it gleamed through the film of nylon… Soft shiny silky sexy…

“Huh?”

“I asked if you thought you’d be finished painting that room today…”

“Oh. Uh, yes. I think so.”

“Good. I really appreciate how helpful you’ve been. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done.”

“I’m…I’m glad I could help. Anytime.” Once again I wanted to thank HER for letting me help!

“So what were you thinking about just now?”

“Uh, me? I was just…” This chicken must be spicier than I thought. I feel hot…

“Was it my stocking feet?”

“I…Uh…” No, not the chicken, it must me the thermostat again…

“Superheroes don’t lie. Do they, Matthew?”

“No they don’t.” I had to agree with that.

“So, MY superhero can’t lie to me. Can he?”

“No.” I had to confess. “I…I was thinking about your…your stocking feet…”

“So you DO like pantyhose after all…Interesting…”

“Well, that is…I…um…” I don’t think it’s possible for me to blush any redder than this…!

Suddenly her stocking feet were in my lap. “Every superhero has his weakness.” Silky soles slid sinuously and seized my throbbing Lycra-clad erection. “And I think I have found yours…!”

I was completely helpless as her soft silky soles massaged my manhood (my my!) Insistently urging me closer and closer to eruption….until….She stopped.

“Surrender. My superhero.”

“Surrender… I…surrender.” Spent but not satisfied, I slumped to the floor.

Susan stood over me and lifted up her left foot. She then placed her nlyoned sole on my face, over my mouth. I kissed it.

“I accept your surrender, my superhero. Your debt is now paid.”

“Ah…gurgle…” I think I said ‘thank you’.

“But you still have a job to finish. Superheroes always finish what they start. Isn’t that right, Matthew?”

To tell you the truth, I don’t know how I managed to finish painting. But I did. It must have made for a funny sight seeing me painting, dressed in that blue unitard with a big ‘S’ painted on my chest and a suspicious stain on my…well… But finally I was done. And Susan was pleased….

“You have been such a big help, Matthew…I really can’t thank you enough…”

“I’m glad you like it…”

“Yes, well, just a few spots to touch up…but…. Overall, good job.”

“Thank you, I can stay longer…if…”

“No. It’s time you got going. I have plans… ”

“Ah, well okay…” What? Plans? Susan?

“I’ve taken up your entire day as it is…”

“It’s no problem…glad to help…” Plans?

“Yes. Well. I will be calling on my superhero to help me again. Soon.”

“Great.” I tried to hide my disappointment. What plans could she have? Without me? Her superhero? But she wants me to come back…She wants me…

“Let’s get you changed.” Susan unlocked my unitard and pulled down the zipper. I went down to the bathroom, my clothes were waiting for me and I took a brief shower and changed. Again it felt strange to be wearing my ‘normal’ clothes again. To think just a few minutes ago I was wearing a unitard…and it was locked!

Susan again walked me out to my car. I was dying to ask her what her plans were (plans that don’t involve me!) but I couldn’t.

“Again, I can’t thank you enough for all your help, Matthew…”

“I…Ah, well it was my pleasure.” Actually, now that I think about it, she COULD have thanked me for my help…she came really close too! And it really WOULD have been my pleasure…!

“The movers will be here soon with the rest of my things. So there will be plenty of opportunity for my superhero to help me.”

“I’m looking forward to it…” Looking forward to more manual labor? Am I crazy?

“Oh, I’m sure you are!” Susan’s smile melted me. Well, not ALL of me…!

Susan then kissed me on both my cheeks, and my forehead too! And her hand found it’s way to the tent in my pants.

“When you get home.” She gave me a squeeze.

I drove home VERY carefully…

END PART TWO

by Shallara (c) 2009

In tribute to Lady Julia

Shallara lay back in the salon chair, relaxing as Ariella massaged her damp scalp. She had been letting Ariella do her hair for years now and had developed a close friendship, one that bordered on the intimate. Sensuous, soft fingertips rhythmically massaged her hairline, moving ever so slowly down to her temples. Exotic oriental music played quietly in the background, and she felt herself drifting deeper and deeper. The wild flower scents from the shampoos seemed to overcome her senses, feminine, sensual and exotic.

She barely noticed that Ariella’s voice seemed to be changing. The idle chatter had been replaced by something more focused, more directed. She felt voices in her head leading her through a maze of passages and arches, until she emerged into a sunny courtyard. Somewhere, deep inside, as she continued to drift off, she heard Ariella’s gentle voice urging her to: “sleep for me now”

The private courtyard was surrounded on all sides by sandy colored, flat roofed building. Large arches and deep, shady verandas looked out onto the harsh sunlit area. A crystal clear pool dominated the center of the courtyard, with nubile women playfully splashing each other as they frolicked under the blazing sun. The eunuch, leading Shallara was huge. He had baggy white linen knee length pantaloons, and a broad red cloth sash crossed his chest, covering his pendulous male breasts, before wrapping around his huge waist. A red turban on his head sat on his head, with a large red gem clip holding it together.   He led Shallara to a padded table lying in the shade of exotic broad leafed palms and gently pressed her down and onto her back.

Her dream became even more sensual and erotic as felt herself being prepared for her first night in the harem. Girls wearing bright silks skits and tops massaged her, rubbing oils and lotions into her silky skin. Her nails were cleaned, polished and buffed; exfoliant was applied to her arms and legs and vigorously rubbed of. Her skin felt clean and alive. Her hands and feet tingled, and a deep warmth suffused her breasts. Shallara felt her thighs being gently eased apart, and offered no resistance as she felt a cool, aromatic cream being applied to her pubis before the hair was gently scraped away, for she knew that this was the way of the Sultan’s harem.

But all too soon, it was over. Shallara seemed to snap back to reality as Ariella moved her chair upright and began to blow dry her hair. Ariella’s bubbly chatter had started again, and Shallara struggled to retain fragments of her dream as it started to fade rapidly into the past. Uncomfortable, she squirmed in the chair as she tried to reposition her skirt which seemed to have ridden too high up her thighs.

Not too soon, Shallara had bid Ariella farewell and arrived back in her apartment. She needed to use the bathroom, and her panties were damp and gave off a telling, musty odor. As she undressed in front of the mirror, she admired her spunky new hairstyle. Her blond hair was short and spiky. Ariella had done well! Shallara remembered clearly the instructions she had given her, for she had rehearsed them in her head a number of times. “Ariella, I need a change . I want to look sassy and spunky – like a tomboy! I don’t just want to look good – I want to excite both males and females. Cut what you have to, to make this happen!”

And as Shallara looked at herself in the mirror, slowly peeling off her underwear, a look of bemusement crossed her face, followed by a wide grin. Staring back at her was a freshly shaved pubis, the skin smooth and silky. A temporary tattoo had been rubbed onto the mound; a fresh red rosebud curved it’s way gracefully up to her lower belly. The dream came flooding back to her consciousness, as she once again remembered the gentle scraping, the scent of shaving cream, and the gentle application of soothing oils. A wicked smile flashed across her face. They had an evening of backgammon planned…just wait Ariella, I know how to get you back!

Do you have a case you would like Shallara to treat? If so, drop a short note to Shallara at ymail dot com and let her know what the issue you want dealt with, and what your recommended therapy might be. You might just find it written up on the Femdom Fantasies site !

by Matthew © 2009

Part I

“Excuse me, are you busy?”

I turned, expecting to see a woman holding a clipboard- those mall survey people can be very persistent. Instead I saw a woman burdened down with shopping bags. She was about my age, and while she was not supermodel pretty (Who is? Well, besides supermodels) or a bikini contest contestant (ditto), she was very pleasant looking, and exuded an air of…well, I guess you could say confidence. And authority.

“Um, no, not really…”

“I guess I went a bit overboard with my shopping…these are starting to get heavy…”

I am still not entirely sure why, but I felt like I needed to help her. So I offered to carry her bags. “Here, let me help.”

“Thank you. I just need to make one more stop, to buy some pantyhose. I hope you don’t mind…”

Actually I had been just wandering the mall and I really did not have any plans. “It’s okay, I’m not in a hurry…”

“Good. It’s just over here.” She set off with me in tow. Carrying all her bags. We ended up in front of a store, the kind that guys wistfully pass but rarely ever go in. Especially on their own. She marched right in but I hesitated on the threshold of this unknown territory. She noticed.

“C’mon, it’s okay. You’re with me.”

So I followed her past racks and displays of lingerie and other mysterious things until we reached the hosiery display.

“I’m starting a new job, you see. And I want to look professional. To make the right impression.”

You would think that I would be feeling very self-conscious by now, standing in a Lingerie store, by a hosiery rack holding the shopping bags of a woman I did not even know. Well, you’re right. I didn’t sign up to be a pack animal. I felt foolish, but…at the same time I felt something else; it felt kind of nice to be able to help her, she was after all counting on me now to carry her bags. And I was being given a peek into a world I knew little about.

“…Now nude of course, and black. Off black?…or Charcoal…or this?”

Huh? Was she asking me?

She was holding up some samples of gauzy material. “What do you think? Which color says ‘The Boss’ to you?”

Something was wrong with the stores heating system, all of the sudden it was very hot. “I, uh, well, they’re all black…they all look the same to me. I really…”

“Oh, you’re blushing!” She interrupted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would affect you so much. I just wanted a male opinion.”

“No, it’s okay! I’m not…bothered, I like them…” I tried to save face.

“You like pantyhose?” She gave me an impish grin.

“Well, that is on women…you know…it makes their legs look nice…and…” This is not going well.

“So, which are your favorite colors?”

“Ah, well, you know…colors… I like, well…” I tried to remember what little I had seen in fashion magazines. “I like when women wear colors that match their outfits…”

“Go on.” She pressed. Boy, they really need to fix the heat in here…

“And fishnets are nice…”

“All guys LIKE it when we wear fishnets. But they don’t really ‘go’ for the office.”

“Yeah…I mean, no. You’re right.” Great. Now she must think I’m a pervert sex maniac.

“Well, I think I’ll get these, for now.” She decided. “I’ve taken up too much of your time already. I shouldn’t keep you from what you were doing.”

“No, really, it’s okay. I had nothing to do.”

We went to check out.

Now I’m not a mind reader, but I knew exactly what the sales clerk was thinking. Seeing me burdened down with shopping bags, standing by as ’she’ made her purchase the clerk thought: “My what a well-trained guy he is.” I just know it. And, part of me was offended. But, part of me sort of liked it…

Finally we left the mall, and found her car, which, of course, was at the opposite end of the parking lot from mine. She opened the trunk and I put her bags in. It felt good to finally put them down. It felt good to have done my ‘good deed’ for the day. And, it actually felt bad that it was now over.

“Oh, where are my manners.” She extended her hand. “I’m Susan.” Her hand was soft and warm and her grip was firm. It felt nice.

“Oh, right! I’m Matthew.”

“Listen, you’ve been a big help to me. But I feel really awful taking up so much of your time. You probably had plans and I ruined them…”

“No, really…it’s okay. I really had nothing planned.”

“You sure? It must have been quite a shock to have someone approach you ‘out of the blue’ and ask for help…”

“Well, yes.” I laughed. “I certainly don’t get random women come up to me every day and ask for my help. But…to tell you the truth, I kind of liked it…um…you know, being able to be a ‘good Samaritan’, and all…”

“Uh huh…” She cocked her head quizzically.

“No, really. It was my pleasure.” Why did I feel the need to defend myself? “I really didn’t have anything to do this afternoon…”

“Okay. Well, I’m glad I didn’t ruin your afternoon.” She thought for a moment. “If you’re still not busy…no, I couldn’t impose…”

“What is it?”

“Well, Matthew, I could really use your help…”

__________________________________________________________________________________

The directions she gave me were good ones. I made it to her house just a few minutes after she did. It wasn’t very far from the mall, and it’s not too far from my own home. She was new to the area, and was actually still in the process of moving in. The house was a neat bungalow, older, and well-kept.

“…a dear old couple, he kept a workshop of some kind in the garage…Unfortunately they left behind some, I don’t know what…and the trash men won’t take it from the garage. They say it needs to be on the curb. So if you could just move it from the garage out to the curb…”

I looked over the rusty bits of metal, dirty wood and barrels of, to put it in technical terms: ’stuff’. Man stuff. This is a job for a man. “Sure, no problem. I can do it for you.”

She smiled. “Wonderful! This will be a big help! I’ve got the movers coming next week with the rest of my things, and I need room to store them until I figure out where to put them in the house. Why don’t I let you get started and I’ll go make some tea…”

I suppose at this point I should have wondered just what I had got myself into and why. I just met her and now here I am moving this crap (another technical term) from out of her garage to the curb. She probably could have just bribed the trash guys to do it. Or paid some neighborhood kid. But I didn’t wonder about any of those things. I just thought about what a great smile she gave me when I offered to help her. I thought about how nice helping her makes me feel. And I thought about how pleased she will be when I am done. She will be pleased with ME. And that’s important, isn’t it? Besides, moving this stuff is really no big deal…

It actually didn’t take long. But it did make me sweaty. And very dirty. When I was done I walked from the garage to the back door of the house following where she had gone after she left me. I hesitated on the porch, I couldn’t just barge in, after all. So I knocked. After a bit the door opened and Susan was there.

“Um, I’m all done…”

“Great! I was just trying on a few things, to see what they look like together. give me a minute and I’ll come take a look…”

So I stood there on the porch while she got ready. Ready for her inspection.

In no time she was back, wearing a dress. A dress which was conservative yet feminine. Good for the office, I guess. And pumps with ankle straps, and it looked like she was even wearing some of the pantyhose I ‘helped’ her buy.

“You look nice.” I always know the right thing to say.

“Thanks. It’s hard to get that balance, you know. Between being feminine and business-like. You guys have it easy…”

“I dunno. I gave up the corporate rat race years ago. Now I work from home. Well, actually not my home, but my studio. It’s a whole separate building. I set my own hours and work when inspiration hits…”

“Leaving you plenty of free time for being helpful…”

A smarter man than I would have seen that coming.

“Let’s take a look at the garage.”

As I had hoped, she was quite pleased with my efforts, and I was quite pleased with her praise.

“Matthew, this is such a big help. Now when the movers come, there will be somewhere to put my things until I’m ready to move them into the house..”

“Glad I could help.”

“Now we can have that tea. Follow me…”

So I did. I followed behind as she lead the way back to her house. Her heels making a very pleasantly feminine ‘click’ on the walkway as we went. When we got to the porch, she opened the door and turned to let me in. Suddenly, a frown appeared on her face.

“Oh, dear. This won’t do. Your clothes are filthy.”

“Yeah, it was a bit dirty…”

“I can’t let you into the house like that. You’ll have to take them off.”

“What, here?”

“Of course. wait here. I’ll get you a robe…”

Susan went inside. I waited on the porch. She returned a few minutes later with a terrycloth robe. Naturally it was pink.

“You can wear this while I wash your clothes. They ought to be done by the time we finish our tea.”

Of course she expected me to strip right there on the porch. I hesitated.

“C’mon. no one is watching…”

That wasn’t entirely true. She was watching. But it was unlikely that anyone passing by would be able to see anything. So I took off my shirt and pants, put on the robe, and pulled off my shoes, socks and underwear. Susan took my clothes from me and finally let me inside. The house was as neat and well maintained on the inside as it was on the outside, but was sparsely decorated. In fact, it was mostly empty, not surprising since most of her belongings had yet to arrive.

“Why don’t you jump in the shower for a minute. It’s just down the hall. I’ll bring the tea into the living room and see about your clothes…”

I followed where she had indicated, found the bathroom and jumped in the shower. Soon I was clean, toweled off, and back in the pink robe. I made my way back towards the kitchen and found Susan in the living room.

“Everything OK? I started the washer when I heard the shower go off. it shouldn’t be long. Come sit down and have your tea.”

“Yeah, great.”

At this point there was only one chair in the room, and naturally Susan was in it. She had arranged some cushions on the floor for me to sit on. Which I did. We sat sipping our tea and eating cookies, her in her chair, and me sitting on a cushion on the floor at her feet. If this was a sign, I didn’t recognize it at the time.

“I guess you can’t wait for all your stuff to get here. So you can decorate.”

“Well, yes. But there’s so much to do beforehand. It’s kind of nice not having all those things in the way. For instance, there’s a couple of rooms that are totally empty.”

“I noticed.” I noticed.

“It would be really great to get those rooms painted before my things arrive.”

“That’s a good idea.” I noticed.

“I know exactly what I want done. It’s just a matter of doing the work. And with the rooms empty, it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

A buzzer from somewhere beyond the kitchen called for attention.

“Time for the dryer, be back in a sec.”

Susan got up, stepped over me and clicked out to the laundry. After a few minutes the click of her heels returned and she sat back in the chair. A look of pain briefly shot across her face.

“It’s not my clothes, is it?”

“No, it’s these heels. It’s going to take a while before they’re broken in.” She reached down and rubbed the toe area of her right foot.

“They look nice.”

“Thank you, they’re a bit higher than I normally wear for work, but I think they will give me some added authority.”

“Ah, for your new job”

“Yes, I transferred here to the home office. I’ll be heading my own department.”

She was still rubbing the toe of her shoe– and since she was still in some discomfort, and since I was closer…

“Here, let me help…”

“Oh, would you?”

I took her foot in my hands and she sank back into the chair. I unbuckled the ankle strap and slid her shoe off. Her toes wiggled gratefully after being freed from their confinement as I carefully laid her shoe off to the side. I repeated the procedure with her left shoe. My hands then began to rub and caress her silky soles and toes and all of the sudden the room became very quiet, the only sounds being the soft hissing of my hands working over her nylon covered feet. Everything else just faded away and became unimportant. Being here, dressed in her pink bathrobe, sitting at her feet, giving her a foot massage, it just seemed…right.

I was grateful for the generous folds of her bathrobe, because it hid my now throbbing erection. Or so I thought.

“Tell me what you’re thinking now.” Susan purred.

“I would like to kiss your foot.” Ha! I said that without thinking. Well, without using my brain.

“Go ahead. You have my permission.”

Something passed between us then, something powerful and permanent. It was as if we crossed some sort of boundary and we both knew there was no going back. There would be no question now who is in charge. Who would lead and who would follow. It was now fully out in the open and we– I, could never pretend otherwise.

I pressed my lips to the sole of her right foot and inhaled the musky sweetness. My head swam and a buzzing sound filled my ears.

My clothes were finally dry.

When I was dressed, Susan walked me out to the driveway, to my car. I got in, and rolled down the window.

“You were a big help today, I really appreciate it.”

“I–it was my pleasure. Anytime.”

“I’ll let you know about the painting project, it will probably be in a day or two. So keep your schedule open.” She laughed.

“Painting. I…Of course, I’d be happy to.”

“Good.” Susan then leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. She reached down to the erection tenting my pants and gave it a brief squeeze. “You’ll think about me when you get home, won’t you?”

“I will.” I groaned.

And I did.

*To be continued*

by mosthandysub © 2009

We connected frequently online. Goddess Vivienne is a very experienced Mistress. There was no doubt, from our conversations online that she was expert at controlling her submissives. Our chats went for hours, lasting long into the night. It’s common on CB to say you know someone from “the inside out.” I felt that way about Goddess Vivienne. We connected over the span of many months.

I learned much about my need to be submissive and to be controlled by a powerful woman. We had many “scenes” online. I followed her directions exactly and reported the results and my feelings to her. I wondered if we would ever meet in person and for me to be allowed the honor of serving her.

Although we had never met, or even spoken to each other by phone, we did live relatively close to each other. It was knowing how close we were in reality that made the anonymity of connecting online that much more exciting.

From the start, I harbored thoughts of serving Goddess Vivienne in person. To be able to see her standing in front of me, while I kneeled to serve her as She saw fit.

As I usually do, I logged onto the system first thing in the morning to check my email and sometimes to see who might be up early enough to be lurking on one of the CB channels. As I logged on, I could see the message flash that “Mail is waiting.” I typed the commands to get into the mail system and found “One message waiting.” The message was short but filled the screen.

_slave…

The time has come for you to prove your ability to serve me. I will allow you the honor of serving in my “clinic.” You will follow my instructions precisely. Any deviation from my explicit directions will result in immediate and irrevocable dismissal. You may NEVER have another opportunity to meet or serve me.

I will meet you this evening at the Hotel Washington. you will have no difficulty in identifying me, as I will be in the hotel’s bar, wearing a red carnation in my hair with long fingernails to match. I will have no difficulty in identifying you, because at precisely 6 PM you will be the man on his knees, kissing and licking my high heeled shoes. You will continue until told explicitly to stop. You will not utter a word unless asked a question or told to speak.

You will wear regular street clothes, but will wear no underwear. You will have your large butt plug inserted.

Goddess Vivienne_

My heart sunk into the pit of my stomach. Could this be true? Is she really allowing me the honor and priviledge of meeting her. The thought was at the same time, frightening, daunting and very exciting. Isn’t this what I’ve wanted all along, but, will I be the slave I am in my fantasies. Certainly the pain and discomfort I’ve experienced at her hand online could not compare to what I will experience with her in person. I had the day to think about it.

My productivity at work that day was clearly not up to par. My concentration was non-existent. I could think of nothing but what lay in store for me that evening. I would finally be meeting my Goddess and experiencing, first hand, her expert domination skills.

Throughout the day, I thought about the scene that awaited me. The timing, it appeared, was selected for maximum humiliation, Happy Hour! How would I be able to get on my knees in a room full of people to kiss my Goddess’ shoes? How long would she keep me there? There was little doubt I would find the courage to do it, to experience a meeting with Goddess Vivienne. Will it really be that easy to find her in such a crowded room? What if by chance there were more than two women wearing red flowers in their hair? Long red fingernails aren’t THAT uncommon among professional women. What would I do? What did she have in mind to do with/to me? Would I actually be given the opportunity to see and serve in her “clinic?” These thoughts, and more, swirled around my head all day. I could think of nothing else.

Just before I left to go to the hotel I retrieved the butt plug I had been instructed to keep available in my office by Goddess Vivienne. Many times, after meeting her online during the day, I was instructed to insert the plug and keep it in throughout the day, usually until we can meet again online in the evening. I used a small bit of lube to insert the plug while in the bathroom. The plug is large enough to cause considerable discomfort when being inserted but I tolerate it pretty well once it is in. When inserted, it is a constant reminder of my submissive status.

I drove the short distance to the hotel, parked, and entered the hotel bar at about 5:45PM. The bar was full with its usual happy hour crowd. I surveyed the room looking for the woman with the red carnation in her hair and equally red long fingernails. My heart almost came through my chest as I spotted a red carnation in blond hair at the bar. I was thankful that I could only find one flower in the crowd. I stood and looked closely to see if I could spy the trademark long, red fingernails. Suddenly, she raised her glass to her lips and her magnificent nails came into view. She was everything I had imagined her to be. She was wearing a flowing flowered silk dress, almost conservative. There was nothing very revealing about her dress but it was clearly one of the more beautiful dresses in the room. Even from my distant viewpoint, I could sense her elegant, aristocratic aura. She may not have been the most beautiful woman in the room but she certainly had the greatest “presence.” That feeling that fills a room when you can’t mistake the fact that someone is there. Some call it charisma, some call it aura, but whatever it is, it is unmistakable.

I glanced at my watch and it was 5:50. I still had 10 minutes to think about meeting her. I was to kneel at her feet and kiss her shoes. I spotted the shoes I was to kiss. They were classic black pumps with what appeared to be 4 inch heels. While I had certainly performed this subservient task before, I had never done so in a public place. Never in front of strangers. I didn’t have a lot of time to think about what would happen, it was already very close to 6PM.

My heart beat faster and harder as I made my way across the room. She was sipping a drink and looking out at the crowd at no one in particular. My digital watch said 5:59 as I stood in front of her and caught her eye. Without looking around, or trying to think about what any of the other customers would think, I dropped to my knees and took her right shoe in my hands. I kissed the toe of the shoe and licked along the sides to the heel. As I reached the heel, I looked up to see her looking at me with a satisfied smile on her lips. I continued to lick the shoe and took the heel into my mouth and sucked on it. I avoided looking at anyone and focused on my task, hoping to please my Goddess. Silently, she moved her left foot into a position that made it apparent she expected me to do the same thing to that one before I would be allowed any recognition by her. I performed the same submissive task on her left shoe. When the heel was being sucked she said one word, “up.” I released her foot and immediately stood up in front of her. She looked into my eyes with a smile and spoke the words I longed to hear, “very good slave.”

She got up from her stool at the bar and started to walk to an empty table in the back of the room. As she turned towards the table, she looked down on the floor at a leather carrying bag and said, “My bag.” It was instinct that made me understand that she expected me to pick up the bag and follow her to the table.

“Sit,” she said, as we reached the table. She immediately explained that she expected me to come to H\her “clinic,” but that I would have to do something before we could leave. I was to drink 5 glasses of water. By my estimation, it probably amounted to about 2 liters of water. She said the sooner I finished the water the sooner we could leave and get on with the evening’s activities.

While we sat and I drank the water, I felt increasingly uncomfortable as the water filled my stomach and the butt plug irritated my ass. We made small talk while she waited for me to finish, occasionally glancing at her nails, inspecting them, almost admiring them. As soon as I had gulped the last of the water, she rose from the table and said, “Follow me.” Glancing at the bag I had put on the floor, it was obvious I was to carry it out.

We walked through the room to the exit. I couldn’t help but notice some of the looks we received as I walked behind her. We walked across the parking lot to the far corner where she parked her red Mercedes 280 sports car. As she reached the car, she stopped and turned to face me. Reaching for the bag I was carrying she took it and opened it up. Without saying anything, she reached in and retrieved two leather cuffs which she fastened around my wrists. Next, she took out a leather collar, about 2 inches wide and fastened it around my neck. The collar had a number of “D” rings attached around it. She told me to put my hands behind my neck and, with small padlocks, locked the wrist cuffs to the “D” rings on the collar. She told me it was important that I be blindfolded while on the way to her clinic. A full leather hood was placed over my head and secured in the back and around the neck. “Now,” she said, “get into the car.” I heard her open the door and guide me into the passenger’s seat. It was a bit awkward, but I managed to sit comfortably into the seat, as comfortable as I could bound the way I was and with a butt plug.

The trip to her clinic was uneventful. She said very little. My heart continued to beat harder and faster as I thought about what awaited me in her clinic. The trip could not have been longer than about 20 minutes. I had no idea which direction from the hotel she went or where I might be. The car stopped and I could hear and feel her get out and come around to my side of the car. The door was opened and she said, “Out!” I struggled to my feet with a bit of support from her. She grabbed my extended elbow and led me up a few steps through a door. Once inside we walked a bit turning here and there as I sensed we were going through some doors. All at once we stopped.

She released my elbow and moved behind me to unfasten my hands from the collar. She removed the hood. I stood in the middle of a “white” room. Everything in the room was white. I quickly looked around to see what I could identify as bondage equipment, but unlike other “dungeons” I had been in, everything in this room was white. While it had the same feeling of a “dungeon” the whiteness of the room gave it a very special quality. Differences in the room were identified as differences in texture. The lighting created special effects with the shadows. Before I could do or think of anything, I heard the command, “Strip! Put your clothes on that hook,” as She pointed to a hook on the far wall of the room. As I began to take off my shirt and pants, she left the room. It only took a few seconds to be naked and standing in the middle of Goddess’ room. I stood in the middle, in the position I had been instructed to assume, legs spread shoulder width, hands behind my neck, eyes cast down to the floor. It seemed like hours before Goddess Vivienne entered the room again. She had changed her attire. She was dressed to contrast completely with the room I had desired to be in for so long. She was wearing a black corset with garters attached to black seamed stockings and continued to wear the black high heeled pumps I had so devotingly kissed and licked just minutes before. The sight of her made my cock stand up immediately. She did not let this go unnoticed, as she said, “Mmmm…so you must be pleased with my clinic!” It was not a direct question so I maintained my silence.

She walked around me, inspecting her slave. My hands were fastened to the collar again. I heard her say, “No sense in wasting time, lets get started. I like to see my slaves in dilemmas. That’s what we’re going to do today. I’d like to see how you deal with this dilemma.” It was about this time, that I began to notice the pressure building in my bladder. She had given me no indication or opportunity to ask to be allowed to urinate and I knew better than to talk without explicit instructions. I would have to hold it until she allowed me the opportunity to talk to her.

She moved me to a pole in the middle of the room. She walked over to one of the walls and retrieved a number of items I could not identify. She knelt down beside me and put leather cuffs, similar to those on my wrists around my ankles. Using padlocks, she fastened the cuffs to rings in the floor, securing my legs in position, separated about 3 feet. Next, she went behind me and grabbed my balls around the top of my scrotum. She gave them a firm pull which made me moan. Because of her instructions not to cum for the last week, my balls were very full and achy. I felt her fasten a parachute ball stretcher to the top of my scrotum. It pinched my skin a little but I knew it was on firmly when she pulled on the ring attached to the chains.

Going to the other wall she obtained a number of other items and returned to stand behind me. I felt her reach to touch the butt plug and heard her say, “Very good.” The butt plug was removed, not too gently and immediately replaced with another one about the same size. I heard the sound of her squeezing a rubber bulb and immediately felt the butt plug expand in my ass. She continued to pump it up until I thought it would explode in my ass, but she stopped just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore. She continued to make arrangements behind me. I couldn’t see exactly what she was doing but I knew it had something to do with the pole behind me. In my peripheral vision, I could see her hanging a rubber bag on the pole. The tube coming out of the bag had some kind of device on it with a wire coming out of it. The tube was attached to the butt plug firmly in place in my ass. She reached down and connected something, a chain or rope, to the ring on the parachute harness and attached the wire to a device on the rope. Suddenly, I felt a strong pulling on my balls. The pull grew stronger and stronger until I was forced to bend my knees in a crouch position to keep my balls from being pulled from my body, or so I thought. The pull on my balls continued as she fastened the rope to a ring in the floor directly beneath my balls and between the rings fastening my feet to the floor. As she released the rope attached to my balls the pull on them stopped and I realized that a warm fluid was filling my ass. She stood and came to my front. Looking me in the eyes, she told me that I could stop the flow of liquid into my ass by simply pulling the rope on my balls. So, that was the dilemma she mentioned. I could receive an enema or punish my balls. The force required to keep the liquid from flowing was significant. The position I was in did not allow me to stand up fully, so I had to maintain a semi-crouched position.

Goddess Vivienne stood in front of me and began to feel my stomach just above my cock. “Mmmm…a bit loated?…Arent’ we?” “Yes, Mistress,” I answered. “I’ll allow you to empty your bladder when your ass if full!”

She then left the room and left me to my dilemma. My bladder was beginning to hurt. I couldn’t make up my mind if it was better to be pulling on my balls, or to have the enema. After what seemed like an eternity, I realized I needed desperately to urinate and succumbed to the full enema by crouching down and releasing the tension on my balls. My stomach filled up immediately with the enema. I began to have cramps. I pulled on my balls to stop the flow but it did no good. It was done. I had retained all the fluid. I felt completely full between my bladder and the enema.

Goddess returned to the room to find the enema bag empty. She told me how pleased she was that I accepted it so well. I watched as she walked over to a rack filled with various whips and paddles. She selected a crop and returned to stand behind me. She spoke into my ear saying, “You’ve done very well. I will now reward you with a cropping. After you’ve received 20 lashes from my crop, I will allow you to empty yourself. Do you understand?” “Yes, Mistress,” I replied. “You will count each stroke as it is delivered. Any miscount will result in me starting from the beginning.”

She began to strike me in earnest as I counted each stroke. The combination of being full of liquid from both sides and the pull on my balls every time I jumped from the strokes was more punishment than I had ever experienced before.

When the final stroke had been delivered, she stroked my ass and told me how well I had received my punishment. She knelt down to release my bonds from the floor rings and pointed to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, I emptied my body into the toilet. My ass was hot from the whipping but the feeling of release was great.

When I was done, I returned to find her sitting on a chair in the middle of the room. On the floor in front of her lay a mirror. She told me to kneel in front of her with the mirror between my legs. She then asked me if I wanted the privilege of cumming. I replied if it was her pleasure I would very much like to cum.

She released my right hand from my collar and told me to hold it out. As I did, she filled my palm with Ben Gay. “OK…you may masturbate until you cum…but…you must cum on the mirror.”

I began to stroke my cock. I felt the heat of the Ben Gay as it entered the pores of my cock. It only took a few seconds for me to cum in large spurts onto the mirror.

I looked up and saw her smiling. “Very good, slave. You may now lick up your mess.” As I bent down to lick up my cum, I could feel the heat in my cock build. Watching myself lick my own cum I thought of the humiliation of licking my Mistress’ shoes in the bar and now licking my cum in front of her.

When I was done, she released all my bonds and told me to get dressed. The hood was again placed over my head and I was led again to her car and driven back to the hotel.

After parking in the same area of the parking lot, She reached over, and released me from the hood.

“Good nite, slave,” she said, “I’ll be in touch!”

by kurius © 2009
Kurius’ blog

Sally wasn’t interested in seeing any one in this phase of her life, all she wanted to do was spend time with friends and enjoy the peace of mind and freedom of not having to worry about someone else’s feelings on a relationship level. The last three months had been a blessing as she was able to go where she wanted whenever she had the urge and spend as much time there as she could. This afternoon Sally was doing just that, she was enjoying an afternoon drinking a cup of coffee at her favorite local coffee shop with her best friend Pam. The two met here every Tuesday to catch up on the latest stuff going on in their lives. Pam was a divorced mother of three children, two in college and one in the Army. Sally had never married but has had a few long term relationships that always ended the same way. The men in her life would start out being the greatest guy in the world, attractive, money in the bank account, driving expensive cars and always buying her gifts. They would each shower her with affection and take her to fancy restaurants and on elaborate vacations. Then after a year or so, or just as football season started the relationship always turned to one of dependency and need. The guy would always want Sally to be available for them and expect her to understand when a ball game, or fishing trip or even a golf game took them away at a moment’s notice when Sally had events planned for the two of them. The last guy she was with was the last straw in her typical relationship, the next guy would need to be dedicated and devoted to her.

Pam knew Sally always had a wild streak in her from when they were college together, that was why her relationships never lasted. She couldn’t settle down and become a a traditional “housewife”. Even though that is what all the guys she had been with over the years wanted. Now Pam was trying to get Sally to find an average guy that would treat her the way a woman is supposed to be treated. After all that is what Pam had finally found after 20 years of marriage and a difficult divorce. Pam has been dating Joel for the last 6 months and the relationship was centered around her, Pam told Sally the things she has planned for him and those ideas have definitely intrigued Sally, it’s just that she also knows Pam is a talker not one to take action.

While, Sally was drifting off in her thoughts Pam suddenly whispered in her ear. “See that guy over there? The one that looks like he could shed a few pounds and the receding hair line? You know he’s been coming in here the last three weeks, he orders a coffee and then sits down behind us.” Sally really hadn’t noticed the guy before but now that Pam was pointing him out, Sally shook her head. “No, I didn’t realize that. I guess he must like you Pam.” Pam gave Sally a soft punch in the arm and whispered in her ear again. “Bull. Mary behind the counter said that he asked if she knew your name last week after we left.”

Sally turned her head toward the barista Mary and lifted her head slightly nodding toward the guy who just got his coffee and moved to a table and chair behind Pam and Sally. Mary smiled and shook her head yes. Sally smiled and looked toward the guy who sat down to read the daily newspaper. He wasn’t the most attractive guy and probably never had been, but average was a definite description of him. Heck Sally was probably best described as plain or average lately. After turning 40 her youthful appearance and attractiveness was fading away. When Sally turned back, Pam continued with what Mary had told her. “The funniest thing is, the guy buys a No flavor Latte each weak, he tastes the drink once or twice and then puts the cup down and doesn’t drink any more. All he does is looks over the newspaper every few minutes and checks us out.”

Sally gave Pam a look as if she was crazy. “Well, that is a little strange isn’t it?” Pam asked. Sally responded by glancing over her shoulder at the guy again, then shrugging her shoulders. “Not really, he seems harmless enough.” Sally thought the man was obviously someone who was not 100% confident in himself, though at one point in time he must have been a very proud man.

Pam went on to other topics about her two kids in college always needing money and her son in the Army never keeping in touch. About 30 minutes later Pam said her good byes for the week and was off to meet Joel for dinner. “Perhaps tonight is when I introduce Joel to the wild me!” Pam said as she leaned over the table and smiled at Sally as she walked toward the door.

Sally was in no hurry to get home and it was still too early to go for dinner. Her curiosity got the best of her though about the conversation that they had about the guy sitting at the other table. Sally thought about going over to him and introducing herself, maybe even inviting him out to dinner, then she thought better of it and didn’t want to seem to forward or even desperate. Instead she got up from the table and glanced back at the guy and smiled as he looked up at her and gave him a quick wink. She turned her head toward the door before she could see his reaction, but she knew he had a smile on his face as big as the Cheshire Cat. Sally walked out to her car with a bounce in her step and sense of pride knowing that she was still attractive to men.

Steve was still recovering from his latest break up with his third relationship since the divorce from his wife after 23 years of marriage. He was not used to living on his own and every time he broke up with a woman he put a few pounds back on and that is what he was in the process of doing now. It also didn’t help his self esteem that his hair was receding at about the same pace as his weight was gaining. On top of all his worries and concerns about how his life was headed, last Friday was his 50th birthday. He felt even more depressed as he looked at his retirement situation and realized that his plans where falling apart as the stock market seemed to be crumbling. The only real satisfaction that Steve found in life recently was the simple joy of walking into this coffee shop and being able to see two pretty middle aged women talking and enjoying life.

He wasn’t looking for a new relationship, the last one fell apart too easily as the woman he was with would always complain about her kids and them needing a father, not some guy that only came over for dinner and sex. Steve had no desire to be a father to teenagers again, he had a hard enough time raising his own two. Both of whom where now married and with kids of their own. So Steve ended the relationship by simply agreeing with the woman and walking out of the house. That was when he had walked into the coffee shop the first time and saw Sally and Pam. He noticed that neither one of them had a ring on their finger, though in today’s culture that really didn’t mean anything, or it could mean everything.

Steve hadn’t planned to come by the coffee shop this week, but for some reason he was pulled here. He wanted to see if Sally and Pam met again this week. He saw the long haired blonde and thought she must have been a knock out when she was younger. For a more mature woman she was definitely pleasing to the eye. Last week Steve even went so far to ask the barista if she knew the long blondes name. Mary told him all she could about the two women, which wasn’t much, but enough to fill in some blanks for Steve. He couldn’t resist looking Sally and getting a glimpse of her whenever she would turn her head his way. She obviously had great self esteem and would dress casually, she didn’t look like she was after a man, or perhaps she was in a relationship.

As Steve sat down at his table he noticed that Pam was whispering to Sally and then Sally quickly glanced toward him. He put his head into his paper in just enough time so Sally wouldn’t see him watching her. About thirty minutes later Pam left and Sally was sitting by herself reading a magazine. She glanced over toward him once but he had again put his head back to his reading. Sally finally got up to leave turning her head toward him and smiling and then suddenly there it was… a wink, she winked at him. Steve couldn’t help but smile but Sally didn’t see the joy she had given Steve by simply acknowledging him as she did. The rest of the night Steve was in a great mood. Now he couldn’t wait until next Tuesday to see if Sally would acknowledge him again.

Several weeks had passed since Steve and Sally first acknowledged each others existence in the coffee shop and each Tuesday since the two would exchange a pleasant hello. Sally learned Steve’s name from Mary and also that Steve showed up on Saturday mornings to read the paper and sip at a latte he never finished.

Today was Saturday and the morning was gray and raining slightly, so Sally decided to go to the coffee shop for a cup of coffee and go over the travel section of the paper as she has been trying to plan a vacation for the last week. When she arrived she grabbed a cup of coffee and started to move to her usual table. She hesitated and then moved to the table that Steve used when he came in. Why she decided to do that this morning was not clear in her mind, but she thought she would take things one moment at a time.

Steve showed up at his usual time, this morning he was in an old pair jeans and a t-shirt that didn’t make him very attractive, but he wasn’t planning on picking up a woman this morning either.  He ordered his usual plain latte with whole milk and then moved toward the table he came to consider his spot. When he turned to the table he saw that Sally was sitting there. He was surprised to see her there on Saturday and at his table.  She looked up as he looked for another table and said; “There’s an open chair here if you care to join me this morning.”  He hesitated for a second and then smiled. “Sure, if you don’t mind the company.”  He said moving toward the chair opposite her.

Sally couldn’t believe it, she made the first move. All she could think about was if this was the right thing to do. Her brain didn’t take too long to override her emotions as she extended her hand in a feminine gesture for a hand shake. “I’m Sally, we’ve seen each other around her for a few months but never really talk.” Steve took her hand and gently touched her finger tips in acknowledging her femininity and then released his hand a few moments later.

“Good to meet you Sally, I’m Steve. I believe it has been a few months. What brings you out here on a rainy Saturday?” Steve glanced at the section of the paper Sally was reading. “Planning to leave for a more hospitable climate?” She glanced down at the paper. “Yes, I’m planning my vacation that I want to take this year.”

The two engaged in light conversation exchanging small bits of information about each other. They definitely where compatible at the base level of interests. They shared likes in science fiction books and movies, both liked to just disengage from society in the evening instead of being active in the social scene. Overall they both enjoyed the conversation.

“Sally, I hope this is not too forward, but do you have plans for dinner this evening?”  He wasn’t sure where that question came from, he just asked.  She looked at him for a few seconds without answering, thinking about his appearance and apparently how much older he was to her. “I would love to go to dinner tonight.”  She wasn’t looking for a long term relationship anyway and what harm could one dinner date be with a new friend.

He smiled at her acceptance and they set the location and time where they would meet.  She was surprised at his choice of the restaurant, it was one of the more reputable Steak Houses in town and a bit pricey, but they both discussed that neither one of them was looking for a long term relationship as they had both been burned out by all of the drama and the expectations that their partners had put on them.
The evening came quickly enough and Sally arrived at the restaurant about five minutes early as the traffic was lighter than she expected. Steve arrived right on time and was driving a late model Mini Cooper, Chili Pepper Red, with white racing stripes down the hood of the car. He obviously took pride in the car as it was still looking like new. He got out of the car though and she could tell he could stand to lose a few pounds since his clothes where wearing a bit tight.  She didn’t care so much about that though since they were meeting as just friends.

It wasn’t until after the main course was served and the conversation turned to how they both viewed relationships that she started to change her mind about her future and a relationship with a man. She wasn’t quite sure, but it must have been something that he said which triggered old memories and ideas.  She decided that to get what she was looking for in a relationship that perhaps it was her needs that needed to be put first, but only if the man is willing to commit to that idea and see it through.

Steve could see in her face that she was deep in thought about the conversation as they discussed how all relationships turned toward the man becoming dependent on the woman and ultimately started to fall apart, as his world both at work and home become prevalent in their lives.  He remarked that it would be interesting to see a relationship where that wasn’t allowed to happen or even one where the woman’s wants, needs and desires became the focal point. That was when he saw a slight smile cross Sally’s deep red painted lips and a her eyebrows lifted in consideration of what he just said. The rest of the dinner was focused on the idea of finding the right person to commit to such an idea. The two stayed at the restaurant longer than they should have talking about various likes and dislikes, such as sports teams, colors, clothing styles, and their friends. As they were getting ready to leave, he picked up the check and without looking at the price, slid his credit card into the booklet and placed it back on the table.   She did see a slight bit of hesitancy on his part as he did that, she noticed all through the evening that his self confidence was not extremely weak but it was definitely shaken.

She took his hand as the they waited for the waitress to return with the bill and in his hand she placed a small piece of paper. “Don’t open that until you get home. I’ve enjoyed this night so much, thank you for becoming a friend.” Steve glanced at the folded piece of paper and then moved it to his pants pocket.   He walked her to her car, a new model Lexus convertible and he opened the door for her, something very few men had done for her over the years.  She smiled and kissed him on the cheek, thanking him once again for the nice evening.

As she drove off, her mind wondered toward the idea she had in the restaurant about a man being devoted to her. A relationship where she could determine its future, one where she was the center of attention and yet one where the man felt comfortable and wanted to be no where else but with her. Her vision turned to one where Steve could be that man, she would use his lack of confidence as a guide. A guide to rebuild that confidence, making him into the man she knew he wanted to be. The other things she would need to concentrate on with him would be his weight. She would have to get him to start exercising again, and to change his wardrobe into a more appealing set of clothes. What would she have to change though? “I would have to be more direct in what I expect and want in the relationship. I’ll need to be seductive and desirable, perhaps we can both start going to the gym together. He will definitely need to learn how to take care of the small things in the relationship, the stuff that will make me happy even though the typical guy would never admit he would do for his woman.”  She realized she was talking to herself as she pulled into her driveway with a smile on her face and excitement building in her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Yes, that is what I want. And Steve will be that man, he just doesn’t know it yet.” This time she knew she was talking out loud. “Time to formulate a plan.”

Steve watched her drive off toward the east, and then he walked to his car, concerned about how well the evening went.   He didn’t feel confident that he gave Sally the best impression of him that he could. Of course she gave him a smile and a peck on the cheek at the end of the evening, that was good manners. “What a fool I am. I should have invited her out to coffee and we could have spent more time together,” he said to himself as he climbed into his car and drove north toward his apartment.   He got home quickly and as he emptied his pockets onto the kitchen table he saw the little folded piece of paper she had given to him at the restaurant. He opened the note and read “Steve, this note is to say thanks for the wonderful evening tonight. I enjoyed your company. I look forward to seeing you soon. Sally1234@mail.com ~ You friend, Sally.”

Steve read the note again, making sure he understood the intent of the relationship was to be friends, after all that is what he wanted. Wasn’t it?   He found in Sally everything that he had been looking for in a woman. They shared the same ideas and liked the same things from movies, to books and even their ideas on relationships.  He decided at that moment that he would be willing to build a stronger friendship with her and see where it led. He folded the note back up and put it in his wallet. The first thing he needed to do was start losing weight and change his appearance. Though he would do those things, he did realize that she didn’t appear to be concerned about those two things, but he still wanted to do what he could to impress her more, if he could. Now if he could just get his self confidence back.

The next few days he started to work out, though not much. He got up in the morning and did 25 sit ups and 25 push ups, and walked for 20 minutes on the treadmill at his apartment. That was a piece of equipment that was used to sitting around and collecting dust instead of being used. Tuesday afternoon couldn’t get here soon enough.  He headed to the coffee shop at his usual time and he noticed that Pam was sitting alone at the table she usually shared with Sally. He didn’t say anything but the look on his face showed definite disappointment that she wasn’t there. He ordered his usual latte and sat at his table reading the paper. He took a couple of sips from his coffee and then sat it down and forgot about it. Pam looked over to Steve a few times over the next 20 minutes watching as he kept looking at the door.

Finally after 30 minutes her cell phone rang and he new it was Sally. Pam took out a note pad from her purse and started writing a short note. Then she continued drinking her cappuccino and reading a fashion magazine, when she was done she went over to his table and passed him the note she had written while talking to Sally on the phone. “Sally, asked me to give you this. She had a few errands to run and wasn’t able to make it this afternoon. She told me that she had a great time Saturday night at dinner and was hoping to see you this afternoon but she just can’t make it.”  She smiled at him and then left the coffee shop.

He read the note that Pam had written for Sally. “Steve, I enjoyed our time together and looked forward to seeing you this afternoon over coffee. Sorry, I missed you. Stop by this address:  1601 Main Street, Apartment 601C,  Friday at 8pm. Don’t forget the wine, we are having fish. It’s my turn to treat for dinner.” Steve smiled at reading the note, she was direct in her note and was definitely showing her interest in him, obviously she was interested in him for who he was as a person, not for what he looked like.

Pam called Sally as soon as she was in her car. “He was definitely sad when he walked in and didn’t see you sitting there, it was all over his face. The whole time he sat there all he could do was look at the door wanting you to walk in.” Sally giggled into the phone as if she where back in high school. “Good. Thanks for helping me out on this. He is really a sweet guy, the kind of guy we both should have hooked up with out of college instead of who we did.”

“I hope you know what your getting into her Sally, are you sure that Steve is the kind of guy that can be molded into what you are wanting?” she said in an inquisitive tone. “No as a matter of fact, I’m not even certain this is what I’m wanting, but the tells where there and neither one of us is getting any younger. We both know what doomed all of our relationships before. So perhaps we will both look at this as the change we both need. Isn’t this the approach you are using with Joel?” Sally was anxious to know if this idea will work, and it was apparent in her voice.

“Joel is taking to my control like a fish to water. He needs to have someone that is willing to guide him and not put up with his old nature when he reverts back to being the typical male around the house.” Pam’s pride in her control over Joel was obvious in how her tone changed.

“Thanks again for passing the note Pam, you are a great friend, I’ll let you know how things go, maybe you’ll have to wait until Tuesday to find out.” “Hmmmm., I hope so Sally. Bye dear I hope you don’t burn the fish.” Pam hung up the phone as she pulled into her driveway.

Steve couldn’t keep his mind off having dinner with Sally the rest of the week. He searched the internet to find what kind of wine went best with fish. The search for the right wine led him to a simple answer yet one he would not have known. He left work on Friday and headed to the local wine shop where he picked out a Blanc de Blanc Champagne that was recommended for most fish. After picking up the champagne he stopped by the flower shop and picked up a dozen yellow roses to signify his desire for a strong friendship with her. He wasn’t confident about how the evening would go, but he wanted to put his best foot forward.

He arrived at 1601 Main Street, definitely a very nice location in downtown for people to live. He walked into the foyer and went to the elevator and pushed the button for the sixth floor, he was 10 minutes early and not sure if he should go straight to her apartment or wait until exactly 8pm. He didn’t have to worry about making that decision, for as the elevator door opened 601C was right there in front of the elevator and Sally was standing there with the door open.

“I saw you pull into the parking lot across the street. Come on in Steve, put the champagne in the ice and there is a vase for the flowers on the bar. Make sure you put those in the center of the coffee table, like a good boy.”  She was nervous being so straightforward with a man, but if this was going to work she had to show confidence and start the evening out the way she pictured the evening in her mind.  He stepped into her home, impressed with how clean and detailed all of her furniture was in relation to the décor.  She shut the door behind them and walked into an adjacent room from her living room.

“Nice place you have Sally, it is definitely very attractive, and may I say so are you this evening.”  He couldn’t believe what just came out of his mouth. He compared the woman he was having dinner with to furniture. “Oh you are so sweet Steve. Thanks for the roses. I’ll be out in a few minutes, make yourself comfortable.”

Sally came out of her bedroom a few minutes late, in a light summer dress, that was white with a small yellow flower pattern, she wasn’t wearing any shoes and her hair was flowing down to her shoulders. “Steve, be a dear and get the champagne glasses out of the china cabinet over there, ” she said as she walked to the kitchen to finish cooking dinner. She normally would never have asked her company to do anything in preparation for a meal, but again tonight had to be different, she had to set the tone of her expectations for the evening and potentially the future.

Steve, wasn’t quite sure what to make of this younger woman being so straight orward all of sudden.  She was definitely not like any of the other women he had known. The others would never had stood at the door waiting for him, they would have shown how pleased they were at receiving roses and they would have placed them in a vase themselves. Now he was getting champagne glasses out of the cabinet for her. He was interested to see how well he liked this strength in a woman. Of course his self confidence was low enough lately that he didn’t have the nerve to say no, but then how do you say no to such simple requests when you are trying to please and impress a woman you are attracted to.

Dinner was cooked to perfection and the champagne definitely complimented the fish very well. The two engaged in small talk over dinner talking about their weeks activities. The only part of the dinner of any significance was how she watched him take his first bite and his reaction.  She watched as he tentatively moved the fish to his mouth and she teased him by saying; “Don’t worry sweetie, it’s not going to bite you. Enjoy the meal, I hope this will be the first of many together.”

When they finished dinner and the plates needed to be cleared, she took the next gamble in preparing the two for what was to come. “Be a dear and clear the plates Steve, the dishwasher is next to the sink on the left hand side, it looks like a regular double cabinet. I need to go freshen up a bit.” Again he was a bit taken aback by her request, but how could he refuse, after all the meal was great and so was the company. “Sure thing Sally, anything for you, especially after such an awesome feast,” he said as he cleared the table.

“Don’t start the dishwasher, that can wait till later, there are a couple wine coolers in the fridge, get those and meet me out on the balcony, sweetie,” she called from her bed room.

Steve put the dishes in the dishwasher and grabbed two wine coolers from the fridge.  As he left the kitchen to go to the balcony he glanced in her bedroom and saw her naked back side as she was getting ready for the rest of the evening. He must have stopped for a few seconds as she looked at him through the mirror. “Now what are you looking at? Get to the balcony like a good boy, I’ll be out in a moment.”

He was now fighting to adjust his hard-on as he sat the wine coolers on the table on the balcony. He adjusted himself and then waited for her once again to come out and spend time with him. She came out in a pair of white shorts and loose light weight blouse that when the light hit it just right he could see the outline of her breasts and aroused nipple.

“Thanks for getting the dishes ready Steve, you have been such a great help this evening. Isn’t this a beautiful night to enjoy out here? Especially with such great company,” she said in a playful tone. “Yes, it has been a great evening, thanks for dinner and especially the company, I am glad I could help out,” he stated as he looked out over the center of the city from Sally’s balcony.

After a few minutes of no discussion, she asked, “What are your plans for tomorrow, sweetie? Anything exciting?.” He  thought for a few seconds and then replied “Let’s see, wash and wax my car, clean the apartment and go grocery shopping. Yep a very fun filled and exciting Saturday.” He smiled as he told her his plans.

“So stuff you can put of till Sunday. I’d like you to spend time with me tomorrow, we’ll go up to the mountains to go hiking and have a picnic.” She was making a statement rather than asking.  He looked at her as she stared at him waiting for his response. She pouted her lips together while he hesitated to answer. “Don’t you want to spend time with me?” she asked innocently.

“Of course I do, and the things I have to do can wait. If we are spending time together tomorrow, I need to get going.” he replied. “Oh. You don’t have to go. Spend the night here, so we can leave early. The guest bedroom is always prepared. This way I also know right where you are.  Plus you have been drinking, so driving is not allowed.”

She could feel his hesitancy and sensed a bit of doubt about how far she was pushing her plan. “Well, if you say so. I don’t  have a fresh set of clothes with me, though.”  She got up from her chair and grabbed his hand, guiding him to the guest bedroom.

“Strip.” she ordered.  He looked at her with shock on his face. “Excuse me?” he questioned rather confused.

“Strip your clothes off, all of them and hand them to me. The laundry needs to be done anyway and you can wash these with my stuff. Don’t stand there, hurry up, I want to get them started so the drier can be started before we go to sleep.”

He was still hesitant, he wasn‘t comfortable getting naked in front of her, especially with the way his body was out of shape.   She went over to the closet in the room and took a light silk robe of a hanger and tossed it to him. “Don’t worry sweetie, be a good boy and put this robe on. I’ve seen grown men naked before, I won’t be shocked with anything you show me.” She was pushing the envelope, but if her idea was going to work she needed to let him know that she accepted him for who he was as a man not for his physical appearance.

He stripped down and then put the robe on. “The washer is in the room on the other side of the kitchen. Put your clothes in there, shut the washer door, and pull the knob out. Then you can watch TV in the living room until the washer stops. Just put the clothes in the dryer and start it for sixty minutes, then head to bed.” She stated her directions clearly. As she finished she kissed him on the forehead.   As she went to her bedroom she added, “Sweet dreams Steve, this has been a great evening, I’m looking forward to what tomorrow brings.”

He stood in the guest room in shock.  She had just told him what to do, how to do it, and when. The hard-on was visible to her as it made the robe around his groin stick out like a tent.  She obviously ignored his excitement as she kissed him on the forehead. All he could do was pick up his clothes and head to the wash room. As he bent down to get his clothes he said to her. “Thanks for such a great evening, see you in the morning.”   He then did as she instructed.

All he could think of while watching cable news on TV waiting for the clothes to wash, was this entire experience was nothing like he had experienced with a woman before.   He enjoyed how she was being so direct, though at times he thought she was a bit abrupt.  Being a bit abrupt could be tamed though, and he was sure that in time, she would learn how to ask for him to do things for her. The clothes finished about 20 minutes later and he put them in the dryer. On the way to the guest room, he was hoping that her door would be open, but it wasn’t. He thought about going in there and initiating the sex, which he knew they both wanted, but he wasn’t willing to blow the potential of a good relationship on one night’s sex. He went to the guest room hoping that he was doing all the right things, especially now that he decided that his needs and wants would not always be first.

Tomorrow would be an interesting challenge and learning experience for them both.

To be continued…