This is an original work of erotic fiction. It employs intensely graphic sexual descriptions and explicit sexual language, and is intended only for an adult audience. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by sexually explicit situations, then please do not read this story.

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@Copyright 2009 by Don.Key12. Unlimited redistribution permitted, as long as this original author copyright notice remains attached.





It had been quite a while since Michele had permitted me to have sex with her. She had always been a control freak about when and how we would have sex, so much so that it was very infrequent, never spontaneous and always felt forced. So much for romance! She always had some excuse: too tired, too sore, too late at night, not in the mood, headache. The list was long and distinguished.

So, it was a surprise to me when she matter-of-factly stated, after dinner, that we would be having sex later on that evening. She said it with that kind of fake smile that should have tipped me off as to what was to come. Well-motivated but blissfully ignorant, I hurried my way through kitchen clean-up, and hustled to get the kids off to bed for the evening. Then, I headed to the bedroom to get ready.

I did a quick shave, floss and brush, then put on my pajama bottoms and lay down on the bed, awaiting Michele's arrival. She strolled into the room, took one look at me, and said, "You're not dressed for bed. Don't look at me like that. You need to get ready for bed before I'm ready to do anything with you."

She went into her closet, and came out carrying a shopping bag from Dillard's. She dropped the bag on the bed and commanded, "It's time you got ready for bed. Get out of those pajamas. Call me when you're done. Do it, or there is going to be nothing tonight, or for a long time to come." Quite a threat, I thought to myself. She turned her back on me and marched out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

I wondered what was so special about the contents of the bag that she had to demand that I had to do what she said or else. I dumped the bag out onto the bed, and was totally blown away by what I saw.

You see, Michele had known about a secret fetish of mine. I made the mistake of telling her about it, and now it looked like I was getting called on it. She knew that I had a thing for women in feminine clothes, silky stockings and sexy underwear. However, she was mostly a cotton panties kind of woman, so my desires remained mostly unfulfilled. But here, on the bed, I saw black stockings, a black garter belt and a black silk short nightie. I thought to myself, it might be interesting if Michele were to wear these for me. But, she would never.... And where was what I was supposed to wear? Then I came to my senses, and realized that I was the one who was expected to wear these things to bed tonight, not her.

I sat there and thought about it for a minute. If I don't do this, then there will be hell to pay, since this is one of her mind-made-up activities. She must have had this all planned out for some time, and, in her my-way-or-no-way attitude, she will INSIST on it happening. If I do it, then she won't be upset, won't make a scene, and she may even have sex with me. If I don't do what she said, then I might as well grab my pillow and go sleep on the couch for the foreseeable future. What a demeaning choice to make: either give in and be her little bitch slave, or push back and create what would likely be a long lasting, nasty argument. Unfortunately, she knew that my little fetish would eventually tip the scales in her favor. I gave in. If I only could have known the whole story.

I took the garter belt up into my hand. It was one that was almost like an open bottom girdle, with heavy spandex material and four garters. I slipped it over my legs and pulled it up to my waist. It felt firm and tight against my hips and tummy. Then, I took a stocking and rolled it, as I had done with a previous girlfriend who indulged me from time to time. I pulled the stocking up, inching the top over my thigh. What a strange sensation to feel the silky nylon against my leg! I hooked the stocking top to the garters, and proceeded to put the other one on as well.

Finally, I pulled the nightie up over my head and down. It was like a slip, very silky and sheer, and I could see the outline of the garter belt through the filmy fabric. The nightie was short and did not quite cover the stocking tops. I turned to look at myself in the mirror built into the headboard, and saw this strange sight of a man in black silk looking back at me. I started to get aroused. I was a bit embarrassed by being so turned on by this scene. I wondered what she was going to say about my boner when she returned.

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and Michele called out, "Are you ready yet? You better be, because I'm coming in!" She burst into the room, and I saw that she had also changed, She was wearing a white tee shirt and a pair of plaid boxers. I guessed that the scenario to be played out tonight was that she was the man, and I was not. Good guess.

She saw me standing there, observed my now-obvious state of arousal, and said sarcastically, "Cute, very cute. I see you like your new nightgown." She came up next to me, and gave me a push on the chest to position me down onto the bed. She got on top of me, straddling me with her legs. She stroked my chest, then grabbed my nipples through the silky fabric and gave them a little twist. Then, she reached back and rubbed my nylon-covered thighs, and worked her way up to my exposed crotch.

I will spare the details of some brutal but not very long-lasting sex. She rode me, came very quickly, then got off me and went to sit in the recliner near the bed. I was still hard and unfulfilled from her short, violent, self-serving actions. Still breathing a little hard, she panted, "Now I want to see you come for me. Start doing yourself, and don't stop until you come. Do it, NOW!"

I reluctantly obeyed. I needed relief. Here I was, in nylons and a garter belt, masturbating. I was having trouble focusing, and was losing my erection. I worried that I couldn't finish the job, so I concentrated even harder. Unfortunately, I didn't notice her reach down by the chair and pick up a camera. I had almost come. I saw the flash and heard the click, and knew at once that I was caught on film in this compromising position. I looked up, and she shot another, then quickly got up and left the room. She returned in a minute to witness my failure to complete her order, my completely limp member a testament to my total embarrassment.

"Out of those clothes, now!" she commanded. I was at least thankful for that. I quickly unfastened the nylons and rolled them down, then stepped out of the garter belt. Then, pulling the silk nightie over my head, and sat down naked on the bed. I crawled under the covers as she scooped up the clothes and put them away in her closet somewhere. She returned to bed, and turned out the light without saying another word.

The incident was not discussed the next morning or even in the days following. It was as if she wanted to pretend it never happened. I know I did. It was several days later when, around bedtime, she went into the bedroom and came out in a few minutes, saying, "Come on, it's time for bed. Turn off the TV and the light and come, now."

I walked into the bedroom and immediately saw the nylons, garter belt and nightie laid out on the bed. "You know what to do, so get started," she instructed. I immediately objected, since the previous time had ended with no pleasure and plenty of embarrassment.

"No, no way. I'm not doing this again. You can just forget it," I stated emphatically.

She must have expected my objection, because the next thing she did was pull out a color print photo of me from the last time, in all my glory. "OK, have it your way, but copies of this get emailed to your boss and friends at work bright and early tomorrow morning. It's a pretty good photo, don't you think? Nice and clear, no shadows or blurring. It's you alright, and you look mighty guilty."

I looked at the photo, at her and her determined expression, and then back to the bed. After a minute of thought, I came to the inevitable conclusion: the worst was already done, so what could happen to make it even worse? So, I reluctantly stripped off my shirt, pants and underwear, and sat on the bed. I re-dressed myself like I did that night a week ago, but this time feeling less excited by it and instead dreading what might happen next.

We had the same sort of quick and brutal sex that happened the week before. However, since she now had her blackmail photos, she skipped the pictures part and just demanded that I get in bed, still wearing the outfit. She cleaned up and crawled into bed, again turning out the light without a single word. I waited until she was asleep to carefully get up and get out of the "costume" and into my pajamas.

The next few days were also similar to the last time. No mention of anything unusual, just day-to-day boring logistical conversation. However, there was this sixth sense in me that kept saying that there was more to come, that she wasn't yet done with her plan.

Michele had told me earlier in the week that we were going to a friend's Halloween party on Saturday. Our plan was that we were to be the President (a warlock) and the First Lady (a witch), and wear Bill and Hillary masks that she bought at the fun shop. She told me to go and drop the kids off at the sitter's. When I returned, I saw "that evil look" on her face that told me that I had been tricked into yet another trap. Oh, God, what was it going to be this time?

I followed her into the bedroom. On the bed, laid out next to the two Halloween masks, were my dark blue pinstripe suit, white shirt and red tie. Also, there was a long black raw silk dress with a full skirt, along with some black lingerie and black nylons. "Go on, start getting dressed. We don't want to be late," she ordered. She went into her closet, undressed and came out in a pair of men's tighty-whitey briefs and a tee-shirt. I had gotten out of my street clothes and was picking up the white dress shirt. "Oh, no you don't!" she ordered, as she plucked the white shirt from my hands and began to put it on. "Come on, get going! You know what to do," she urged. She continued dressing, putting on the pants, then sat down and added black socks and a pair of her man-looking shoes.

Well, now I knew exactly what she wanted me to do. But, I couldn't go to a Halloween party dressed as a woman! Especially Hillary! I started to walk out of the bedroom, when she stopped me cold with her sharp attack. "You HAVE to do this! These are my ORDERS! If you don't, then those photos I took of you get sent to everyone you know, even your Mom."

So, this is how it was going to be? Blackmailed for her control? I was really angry, but I also knew I was beaten, since she held the trump card: that terrible photo of me playing with myself while wearing nylons. I couldn't live if that ever got out at work. So, I thought to myself, how badly could it go at this party? I probably didn't know anyone at the party (it was with her friends from work), and I was going to wear a mask, and it was Halloween, so maybe it might be OK....

Given the choices and possible outcomes, I caved in. I took off my underwear and sat on the bed. I thought about the times when she demanded that I put on the garter belt and nylons if I wanted sex. I now understood that those events were just pre-planned as "training" runs for me, leading up to this next level. What a conniving bitch!

I looked down at the clothes. I now noticed the bra as well. So, this was going to be a complete dress-up? She stormed over to me, impatient at my lack of progress. "Come on, or we'll be late! Stand up!" she ordered. I stood, and she took the bra and held it out, opened. "Come on, put your arms in and I'll fasten you." She slipped the bra over my shoulders, and did the clasp in back. It felt weird to feel the band and straps. She took two pair of my white athletic socks, rolled them into balls, and stuffed them into the cups. The bra cups were foam, and held their shape.

Then she picked up the garter belt. It was about ten inches long, with hooks up the front. She handed it to me and said, "Pull it on, all the way up!" I bent over and stepped into it. I pulled it up and over my bottom and up to my waist, and it really fit tight. "A little more, pull!" she demanded. It now stopped about two inches above my waist, but the bottom was still slightly above my crotch. She started at the bottom hook, and fastened them all the way up, making the garment an even a tighter fit. "Now, sit and put on the stockings!" This part she knew I could do myself. She watched as I rolled them, slipped them around my toes, the unrolled them all the way up my legs. I fastened the garter tabs and stood.

Then, she picked up the long dress, bunched it up, and said, "Arms up!" She placed it over my head, and I cooperated (what else could I do?) by working my arms into the half-sleeves. She pulled it down, working it over my torso and hips. She turned me around, then zipped the long zipper all the way from my butt to my neck. It fit really tight at the waist, and over my now-curvy chest. There was a built-in petticoat of sorts that made the full skirt poof out a bit. The petticoat felt kind of funny against the tops of my thighs and my bottom, since she had not provided (or permitted) any underwear. I thought to my self that I was going "commando", but I'll bet that not many commandos went like this.

"Now, for the pièce de résistance," she crowed victoriously. She handed me a box, and told me to sit. I opened the box, and saw a pair of high heels with ankle straps. They looked huge, big enough to fit my feet. I struggled to bend over enough to get them on and buckle the straps. "Now, stand up and walk for me, and try not to fall down." I stood, took a couple for wavering steps, and stopped. "Fine, that will do fine. Now wait while I tie my tie, and then we will go."

She grabbed the masks from the bed, and motioned for me to follow her out to the car. I sat in the passenger seat, of course. Not a word was said while we drove the short distance to her friend's house. I was somewhat surprised by the view, my legs, in nylons, poking out from under a black silk dress. I also wondered if I had the guts to even get out of the car once we arrived.

We parked on the street, and she got out. I did not. She cam around to the passenger door, and opened it up. "Time to get out and join the party. You're the First Lady, start acting like it." She reached in to the back seat, and grabbed a witch's hat, with a round brim and pointy top. She handed me the Hillary mask, which I thankfully put on. I followed the mask with the hat. As she closed the passenger side door, I saw my reflection in the glass and didn't recognize myself. Good. I may get through this yet.

She put her Bill mask on as we walked to the front door. A ring of the doorbell, and we were inside. I looked around, and saw that I did know a few of the people there, at least the ones not wearing masks. Everyone got a big laugh out of our pair of costumes, especially the ones who must have thought, as I did, that the real Hillary really was a witch. As we walked to the kitchen, I felt funny trying to maneuver in the shoes, but I didn't fall at least. I noticed that several of the women there seemed a bit "dikey".

Her friend, Barb, recognized Michele and gave her a big hug. She looked at me, thought for a minute, and then grinned widely. "So, this must be the First Lady, Mr. President. Come here, dear, and let me have a look at you." I didn't move, so she took a couple of steps and had her arms around me in a big hug. I could feel her hand, now around my back, examining the bra. Busted, I thought to myself. Then she moved her hand down my back, feeling the tightness of the high-waist garter belt. She went even lower, now feeling the bottom of the garter belt through the dress fabric. She tucked a finger under the garter strap and followed it down my thigh to where it attached to the stocking top. She turned to Michele, showing off her finger under the garter strap, and said to her, in a decidedly evil and memorable voice, "Oh, you are so, so, very, very BAD!" Then Barb turned to me, and repeated, "And YOU, You are so, so, very, very BAD!" I somehow knew I would hear from Barb again later.

We got a drink, and walked back to the living room. There we ran into a couple that I did not know, but immediately felt some kinship with. She was dressed as a football player (her size made it look convincing) and her husband was in a similar predicament as I was. He was dressed in a cheerleader uniform, complete with short pleated skirt and tan tights. The women began to chat, and I took him aside and said, "How'd you get talked into this?"

He waited a minute, then finally realized that we could probably be friends based on our similar situations, and replied, "I was blackmailed. How about you?"

I shook my head and said, "Yep. Same thing. She has photos. I had no choice but to give into this, whatever it is."

"I'm Dave," he said, "and I'm glad to meet you. Hey, look over there. That's Carl. He was blackmailed as well." I followed his gaze and saw, at the far end of the room, a guy in a classic French maid uniform, complete with the little white apron and cap. I motioned to Dave to follow me as I walked over to meet him.

"Hi, I'm Bob," I said to Carl. Dave here tells me that we all have the same problem."

Carl replied, "Yes, I got caught spanking the monkey on hidden camera, and she has threatened to send the video to XTube and a link to everyone at work if I didn't come to this Halloween party with her. I looked around the room and found the last victim, dressed as Snow White, with a Disney mask on an otherwise male body. I began to feel both less embarrassed and more angry, since now it was clear that this was a contest of sorts between these women, to see who could successfully deliver a husband in girl clothes to this party. I also noticed that, aside from us four men in costume, there were no other men at the party. Maybe no other husbands were successfully blackmailed.

Just then, a little bell rang, and Barb, the hostess, announced, "It's time, ladies, for our Halloween beauty contest. Now, our finalists need to all line up here, in front of the fireplace. Come on now, get with it!" Michele came over to me quickly and said, "Get on up there now, and don't embarrass me. Get into character! You need to WIN!." She took me by the arm and dragged me to the front of the room. The other wives were doing the same with their "finalists". The wives took positions behind us, as if to prevent our escape.

Barb and another woman began their inspection of the candidates. They asked Snow White to turn around once, slowly. Then they asked Carl, the maid, to do the same. Then they asked us all to walk, single file, over to the bar and back. Dave started the procession, and we all fell into line. After we showed ourselves off to the "judges", we were back in line, in front of our spouses, in front of the fireplace. Then Barb announced that Snow White and the maid could sit down, and the final vote was now between Dave and me. Barb approached Dave, and Dave's wife, the football player, reached around him from behind and lifted the front of his pleated skirt to reveal the matching red cheer panties underneath. There was an unmistakable bulge showing in his privates. The audience ooh'd and ahh'd at the sight of this. Barb gave his crotch a little pat with her hand, and said, "Nice, very nice."
I watched all of this with amazement, and then the horror set in as I realized I was next, and that I wasn't wearing any underwear! I started to move away, and both Michele and the football player grabbed me, one by each arm, and said, "Stay put! The judging is still in progress!"

That's when it happened. Michele reached around me, and pulled the skirt of my dress about half-way up my thigh. It was high enough to reveal that I was wearing stockings and garters. The crowd started to call out and laugh. "Wow, look at that! What a sight!" Encouraged by the cat-calls, Michele then pulled the hem of the dress the rest of the way up, all the way to my waist. Everyone could see my privates, plus the garter belt and stockings.

"We have a winner!" Barb announced boisterously. Thankfully, Michele let my dress drop back down to my knees. Barb approached with a crown, and placed it on top of the brim of my witch's hat. Everyone applauded, and Barb said, "Take the walk." Michele gave me a shove, and started me on my way down the gauntlet. Several women slapped or pinched my bottom as I walked by quickly, trying to get to the relative safety of the kitchen. Michele followed a few steps behind.

"You did well. I'm happy that we won. Can I get you a drink?" she said proudly. She's always on her best behavior just after she has won a competition, no matter how she won or how someone else had to lose.

I replied, "No thanks, I just need to get out of here, now." She gave me that "look" of disgust and disappointment. But, she could see I as close to losing it. So, she relented and said, "OK, just let me say my goodbyes to the girls, and I'll be right back." She headed back off to the living room. I turned and headed for the back door, and bumped right into Barb.

"There you are, our winner!" She exclaimed. "Now just where do you think you're going so fast?" I averted her eyes and tried to go around her. It was tough to balance in the heels, and I was already feeling weak from the ordeal. "Now, just a minute. Let me just get one more good look at you." Instead of stepping back, she moved up right next to me, and took the witch's hat off. She handed me a Zorro mask, and said, "Here put this on instead. Hurry, while no one's here. I did as she asked, and put the hat back on, not knowing where this was going, but happy to be rid of that stupid, hot mask.

Then she pulled my head to hers, and gave me a strong kiss. I struggled to break away, but she used her other hand to grope me through the dress. She was surprised that I wasn't excited by her. "Oh, you're not having much fun, are you?" she cooed. "I want so much for everyone to have fun at my party." She kissed me again, this time with a lot of tongue. He hand went up under the skirt now, and she cupped my balls. I couldn't help myself, and became hard immediately. "Now, now, that's better," she said.

She pushed me up against the wall and grinded herself into me, kissing again. Then, I heard an "Ahem!" from off to the side, and we both looked over to see Michele standing there, watching this whole scene. I thought she was about to get really angry at me or Barb or both of us, and I started to explain how it wasn't my fault. But instead, she just smiled one of her fake smiles at us. "Well?" Barb asked to her. Michele just nodded her head twice, indicating a "yes."

Barb led me by the hand, down the hall to the end. She opened the door, and it was her master bedroom. She led me in, shut the door, and locked it. Clearly, the nod from Michele was some sort of permission, which was granted of course. She turned to me and said, in a sweet voice, "I've always like both boys and girls, and I've often wondered how it would feel to have the best of both. When Michele told me about you and how she managed to "train" you, I couldn't wait to meet you. So, here we are."

I felt bewildered at this. How could Michele have shared my secrets with another? She saw this and explained further. "It was my idea for the party. We all got together, and everyone agreed that as host, I would get the winner of the costume contest. That would be you."

She look me over again with what I thought was a hungry stare, then said, "Why don't you head to the bathroom and freshen up before we get started? I'm sure you could use a short break. But, the clothes stay on. Got it?" It was like I was in some sort of dream, but her suggestion made sense, and I acted on it. I opened the door she indicated, and went in. After struggling a bit with the dress, I managed to sit down and relieve myself. Afterwards, I used a washcloth to wash my privates. Knowing what was to come, I figured I would avoid being chastised or even punished for not being presentable. After a quick rinse with mouthwash, I exited the bathroom and found Barb standing there with her hand out.

"Here, take these, you're going to need them," she directed. I looked into her palm and saw two pills, and recognized them both. One was Viagra, and the other was Cialis.

"Are you sure, both of them?" I questioned. She reassured me that they worked differently (one short term, the other longer) and could be taken together. "What about Michele?" I asked, not understanding fully what was in store.

"Oh, she claimed the runner up, the cheerleader, but ended up with the football player as well. The three of them will be busy for a while, so just relax and take your little helpers," she explained. "My turn to freshen up. Make yourself comfortable. I'll be out in a few minutes."

She went into the bathroom, and I thought that it was my chance to get away. I ran for the door, and found it to be a deadbolt lock (!), with the key nowhere in sight. I started snooping in her dresser drawers to find the key. Her taste in lingerie was definitely different than Michele's. It was lacy and sexy, rather than cotton and drab.

Next, I started going through the nightstands. Nothing unusual in the first night stand, but the second, although not holding the door key, did have some adult toys, including fur-lined cuffs and a fairly large vibrator. Before I could finish searching the second nightstand, I heard her call out that she was ready and would be out shortly. I silently pushed the drawer back in, and stood away from the bed.

Barb came out wearing a short black silk chemise and black hose. She spun around and said, "Michele told me all about your thing for pantyhose, so I thought I would motivate you by wearing this." She pulled up the hem of the chemise and showed the pantyhose, and how she had carefully removed the crotch. "See, all ready to play. Are you?"

She took me by the arm (a big woman, she was still my size even with me still in heels and her in stocking feet) and led me to the bed, guiding me to lie down on my back. She sat down on my knees, her legs straddling mine, our hose-covered legs sliding against each other. She pushed the dress up to my waist, and cupped my balls in her large hands. "Oh, good, I see things are coming alive. Let's get our motors going." With that, she scooted up my chest and placed her crotch squarely on my mouth. "Eat me, make me come!" she ordered.

I began, and she was at least merciful, not placing her whole weight upon me. Instead, she was crouching, and working herself back and forth in rhythm with my work. She started to breath really hard, and then began grabbing and squeezing her breasts. After just a minute more, I could feel her start to tense up, and then she froze. She cramped up, exclaiming, 'Oh, God, Oh, Oh, Oh!" and I could feel a trickle of her wetness cover my face. She came all over me. It was exciting. I was hard.

After a minute or so to catch her breath, she rolled off of me and hugged me, like we were lovers or something. She took another minute, and then began petting the inside of my thigh, up to my privates. The combination of the pills and the excitement ensured my stiffness. " I need you to be mine, surrender totally. Do you understand?" she queried. I nodded in agreement, most of the blood now drained from my brain. Now with my consent, she began her ritual. She helped me out of the dress, and that was a big relief. I was beginning to get overheated from it, and welcomed the coolness on my skin. The bra came off next, and I was beginning to feel more like a man.

"Now lay back, close your eyes, and relax. I'll be done soon," she said soothingly. I did as she asked. "Listen, do you hear that?" she whispered. In the next room, I could hear a man's voice crying out in agony, and two women's voices laughing. She continued, "You're the lucky winner tonight. As runner-up, our cheerleader is really getting a work-over, I imagine. They borrowed my TENS e-stim unit. No telling how many times they're going to MAKE him come."

I felt a sheepskin strap around one wrist, then the other. I opened my eyes, and she said in a soft, soothing voice, "Relax, surrender, you're mine." I kept looking into her eyes as she fastened each wrist strap to a snap link and nylon rope, and pulled the rope until my arms were extended partially above my head. Not too much, and it didn't hurt. "Are you OK? I'm being gentle," she advised.

Next, a similar sheepskin strap, a little wider and longer, was fastened around both ankles at once, and attached to a rope coming from under the center of the bed. She snugged this up as well, and repeated, "Still OK?" I nodded in agreement.

This wasn't so bad, I thought to myself. She seemed to care about my comfort, and the straps were not too tight and didn't hurt. She continued on with her mantra, "There, we're done. I just want you to enjoy the freedom of being totally helpless and under my complete control. You can let yourself go, since it is all in my hands." And with that, she mounted me and began to ride. I could feel our hose rubbing together on each stroke. She continued, slowly but completely, taking my whole length in and out. She paused for a moment and pulled the black chemise over her head, exposing her rather large and clearly excited breasts. She began to ride again, but this time was also cupping and squeezing her breasts in rhythm. She quickened the pace, and then stopped and leaned over on top of me. I could feel her cramping up and clamping on my peter. After a minute, she recovered and rolled off.

While that was stimulating, it wasn't enough to make me come, and I was still standing like a flagpole in the breeze. She caught me looking at it, and said, "Don't worry, we are far from done yet. And from the sounds of it, neither are they." In the next room, I could hear the cheerleader crying out in a panting voice, "No, no, no, stop, please, no, more, I, can't, please, no, stop, Ohhhhhhhhhhh!"

"Have you ever seen one of those in action?" she asked. "They are really effective." I replied that I had experienced it once, while mostly drugged, and recalled that it was quite effective indeed. She went on to explain, "If the electrodes are placed right, the low setting produces a pleasant vibration that causes the prostate to engorge with fluid. Then, the prep level, with its mild pain, produces muscular tension and adrenalin flow. Once the patient is sufficiently excited, the high-level pulse cramps the stomach and groin muscles and forces the ejaculation. In the right hands, it can be quite dramatic." She sounded like a doctor, and I wondered if she was the one that assisted my wife with my incident. I decided to ask.

"Were you the one, with Michele, when she drugged me and milked me?" I asked bluntly.

"Yes, I was. In fact, I find myself recalling it pleasantly from time to time. I enjoyed that very much, especially the part where you were wearing the garter belt and hose. I figured that you must have put those on before you passed out, so you were definitely a willing participant. I also recall that I was gentle with you, and chose to use my small diameter anal probe. Consider yourself lucky. They borrowed a 2 incher for the poor guy next door, and it must have hurt like hell to take that."

The small talk had distracted me enough that I had lost some of my stiffness. She fondled me, and said, "Don't worry, I have just the thing!" She stood, and reached into the bottom drawer of her nightstand. Out came what I recognized as a penis pump, and a loop of surgical tubing. She slipped the loop over the head of my penis and ran it to the base. Then she started to place the clear plastic tube over my penis. "Don't worry," she said. It won't hurt, and you will be AMAZED at what this thing can do."

She fitted it closely to my crotch, and the tube felt so big compared to my penis. It felt weird when she began to pump on the bulb and the suction started to take hold. She coached herself, saying, "Slowly now. We don't want to hurry this. Going slow produces minimum discomfort and also maximum results. It takes time for the blood to flow into every last tiny vessel in your penis, and forcing it just won't do."

I saw my penis through the clear plastic, growing stiff and bigger. She did as she said, going slowly, about one pump every ten or fifteen seconds. This went on for several minutes, while she continued her encouraging patter, "See, see how big you're getting? Isn't that nice? Aren't you proud?"

I looked, and the tube, which before seemed so big compared to my penis, was now almost filled. Inspecting her handiwork, I found that although my length looked only a little longer than normal, my girth was HUGE! She reached down, tightened the surgical tube loop around the base of my penis, and pressed the relief valve on the pump. She took off the cylinder, and proudly remarked about her accomplishment, "Wow, you really got big! I am really, really going to enjoy this!"

She reached into her nightstand and took out a large vibrator. She coated it with K-Y and turned it on. She turned to me and said, "I'll never be able to take you if I'm not ready. Lay back and enjoy watching me get ready." With that, she slipped the vibrator in, and began to work it slowing in and out. We locked eyes as she pushed it in further and further. She continued to work it, and began to breathe heavily. "Now, now you'll fit. Are you ready?" she asked. She took some K-Y and spread it across the tip and shaft of my cock and then climbed on top of me. She wrapped one hand around the shaft of my cock (it DID really feel huge) and guided me to her opening. She worked herself back and forth until the head popped into her, then slowly slipped down, all the way down me until our crotches touched. "Oh, God! I'm sooo fulllll!" she cried out.

She rode and rode, coming three or four times, only pausing for a moment before continuing on. With the loop tightly around my base, I was staying hard, but getting a little numb. It was exciting to see my big cock going in and out of her. At last, she looked like she was about done. She kissed me and said, "You've been good, so I will give you a special treat." She got off me, and quickly undid the ankle and wrist straps. "Stand!" she commanded. I stood, my tool still at attention. She bent over the bed, exposing her pantyhose clad ass to me. Her pussy was as red as a dark cherry. "Take it! Finish me off!" she demanded.

She spread a little, and reached a hand under her to guide me in. I felt the head pop in again, just like before. She pushed back on me, taking me without my even moving an inch. "Pound me, you bitch! Ring my bell!" I did exactly as she asked, and was not gentle at all. I was hitting her hard with my lower stomach, and felt the garter belt slap her bottom. She started going crazy, squirming and twisting around my cock, and calling out nonsense words. She came in one big convulsion, slipping off my cock and onto the bed, continuing to convulse and cramp for what seemed like two minutes. I took the opportunity to remove the loop from my cock. I went soft quickly, and after a short prickly feeling, I felt about normal again, just a little sore.

I climbed onto the bed and covered her with the sheet, since she was still shivering a bit. I lay there for about a half hour, next to her, before she finally opened her eyes and spoke. "You're a good guy, I like you. Can't you tell?" she laughed. "Don't worry, we're done for the night. I can't take any more, but the good thing is I am completely satisfied. Thank you. What's your name?"

So, now were on a first name basis. I told her I was Bob, but she didn't volunteer hers, even though I knew it was Barb. We laid there for a few more minutes, then we heard a bed creaking noise coming from the next room. She smiled at me and said, in a slightly evil voice, "Come, come with me. Let's go see what's going on. Come on, it's my house, my party. They won't mind."

I was still wearing the nylons and garter belt, but nothing else. "Here, put this on," she motioned, handling me the black chemise she was wearing earlier. Why not, I thought. It's been a strange night, so why not? The chemise was short, not even covering my stocking tops, and I felt my privates exposed a bit, too. She got it immediately, and went to her dresser. She pulled out a black control brief, handed it to me, and said, "Here, this will help you feel more dressed. It's a little snug on me, so it should work for you." She was about my size, and she was right, it fit well, not too tight. She slapped my bottom, then felt the smoothness of the brief through the silky chemise, and said, "Come on, my dearie, let's go investigate."

She led the way. The door to the next room was locked, but she reached above the door jamb and found a small screwdriver. She unlocked the door, and slowly opened it up. We saw the woman who came in the football player costume still in the numbered jersey, minus the pants. We also saw Michele, still dressed in the man's white shirt, but also without pants. They were on the bed, 69'ing each other, and were so into it that they didn't even notice the door opening. We saw the cheerleader curled up on the floor, still wearing the short pleated skirt and tight top, with his tights ripped open at the crotch and a large butt plug in his rear. There were wires leading from him to a box with several buttons and dials. His hands and feet were bound together at the wrists and ankles. He seemed to be asleep, probably exhausted. Poor guy, the runner up. That could have been me!

Our hostess let out a loud and authoritative; "Ahem!" and the two women looked up. "Recess is over. Back to school. Show me what you've learned," she said sternly. The women sheepishly got untangled and out of bed, pulling down their shirts to cover themselves. At first, Michele didn't recognize me, since I was standing almost directly behind our hostess. Once she did, she burst out with, "What's HE doing here?"

"Silence!" Barb said with a commanding authority. "He is my property, at least for tonight. You two will do as I command, now! Show me what you've learned!"

Michele gave me an evil look that said that I was going to pay for this intrusion later, but I already knew that. She and the other woman went over to the cheerleader, who was still asleep. They rolled him over, then lifted his skirt and pulled down his tan tights. They checked to see that the two electrode pads affixed to areas just above his groin were still stuck on well, and the wire leads still attached. Then they applied a little lubricant from a tube to the black ring around the base of his cock, and check the wire lead on that, too.

"Good, good, "the teacher said. "Always check your connections before you begin, or you will be unsuccessful in getting the results you seek. Go on."

They pulled his tights back up, and rolled him onto his stomach. He stirred slightly, but did not awaken. They lifted his skirt, and checked that the anal probe was still firmly in place and the wire still connected. It did look huge, just like Barb had said earlier.
"Wake him up!" The teacher demanded. Michele took a jar of what had to be smelling salts, opened it, and passed it near his nose. He immediately awoke, but was disoriented at first.

"On your knees, now, girl!" I heard Michele command. "Now! Right NOW! or it will not go well for you!" Clearly worn down by previous activity, he did not even look up, but instead just slowly pushed himself up into a bent-over kneel. The other woman placed a small bowl under him, apparently in anticipation of what was to come.

Michele picked up the box, threw a switch and turned a dial. He let out a soft moan. We waited for about five minutes, as his moaning got more frequent and he started to breathe faster and shallower. Michele turned to Barb, and Barb smiled and nodded. She threw another switch, and turned two more dials, and the cheerleader cried out, "Ohhhhhhhh!" The box seemed to be producing a rhythmic pulsing at about once per second, and he was clearly getting aroused by it. He started rocking back and forth on his knees in time with the pulses.

After a few minutes of this, Michele turned again to Barb, who again smiled and nodded her agreement. There was a larger red button on the box. Michele hesitated a bit with her finger over it, then pushed it and held it down for about two seconds. The cheerleader guy immediately cramped up, and a surprisingly strong stream of cum flew out of him into the bowl. In a few seconds, she did it again, and the same thing happened. He was crying out in agony with every button push. She did it again, and again and again, until finally he was dry. Then she switched the box off, and commanded, "You may rest now. We are done for the night." He slumped down on his side, avoiding the bowl. His eyes remained closed, and he looked like he was pretending he was gone far away from there. The other woman picked up the bowl, gave it to Michele, who then brought it to Barb.

"Good, very good!" the teacher complimented. "You have passed the final exam. School is now out for the day. That is all." Barb turned around, and took me by the hand out of the room, closing the door behind her.

We re-entered the master bedroom, and she locked the door behind us. "I hope you enjoyed that little display. I wanted to show you that, just so you knew what 's going on here, and so you would feel better about what's going to happen next."

She saw the fear in my eyes, and said quickly, "No, no, you're not next for THAT treatment. He was being punished for being disobedient. You, on the other hand, have been well-behaved tonight, so you get to go to the next level."

I started wondering what the "next level" might be, when she began her explanation. "You're the lucky winner that gets to be my bride tonight. That's right, it's our wedding night, and you get to give yourself to me, completely. Now it's time to get dressed for the ceremony."

She motioned for me to get undressed. I took off the chemise and control panty, undid the hooks on my waist cincher, removed the garters from my stockings, and got down to nothing. She had opened the bottom drawer of her dresser, and pulled out a strapless long-line bra. She fastened it around me, then took a couple of peach-colored silicone breast forms and slipped them into the cups. Next she pulled out a white garter belt, very lacy, and hooked it around my waist. She handed me a pair of white nylons, which I rolled (done it before) and worked up my legs, attaching them to the garter belt. She went to the closet and pulled out a crinoline half slip, very full, and handed it over to me. I stepped in, pulled it up, then pulled the zipper on its elastic waist tight around my middle. No panties. I guessed that I wouldn't be needing them.

"My, you have big feet! She said, observing my toes in the stockings. I hope these will go on." She handed me a pair of white pumps with three inch heels. They looked huge, but when I sat on the bed to put them on, I could just barely wiggle them over my heel. I stood in them, and they were tight, but not painfully so. "Good," she remarked. "I hoped those would do. They were my late husband's, before he passed on. You don't mind, do you?" What could I say? Her husband's high heels?

She unzipped a large dress bag and took out a wedding dress. It was a strapless gown, with a full skirt that started at the waist and went to the floor. She gently rolled it a bit, and started to slip it over my head. I lifted my arms, not offering any resistance. As she fastened the back zipper and hooks, all I could think about was that poor guy, that cheerleader, who disobeyed. No, that wasn't going to be me. This was painless so far, so I wanted to keep it that way.

"Now, stand there while I make the announcement," she ordered. She left, locking the door behind her. I could hear her announcing something, knocking on doors and telling people to come out and join her in the living room.

She returned, and said, "Good. Now stay there, don't sit, while I get dressed." She went back to the dresser, and pulled out a black corset. She wrapped it around, fastened the front hooks, then motioned to me. "Here, do the laces, and don't be gentle. I want to look good for this." I proceeded to tighten the back laces, pulling hard and getting it really tight. "Good, you're good at this. I knew you were a keeper," she complimented.

She sat, and put on black stockings, fastening them to the garters on the corset. Then she stood and got a high waist girdle, pulled it on, and zipped it up. She really did look good in it, and she was turning me on. I was lost to this plan now! She put on black high heel pumps with ankle straps, then turned to me and said, "Now don't be afraid. I promise to be gentle." I wondered what she meant by that.

She took me by the hand, and led me to the living room. About half of the guests I had seen earlier were still there, including my wife and the wife of the cheerleader. No men were present. I assumed they were tied up somewhere.

Everyone applauded as we walked into the room. Barb made an announcement. "Thank you, thank you. I have had the good fortune tonight to find a new bitch, and I am here to wed. Please begin."

We stood there, in front of the group, me in white in the wedding dress, Barb in her black corset. A woman came forward, with a book that wasn't a Bible, and began a ceremonial speech. All I recall is that it ended with the words, "I now pronounce you woman and bitch. You may kiss your bitch."

With that, Barb gave me a big kiss, deep and powerful, and I got hard again. The Cialis hadn't worn off yet, I assumed. "That's enough! Now, on to the wedding bed!" Another cheer broke out as she took me by the hand, leading me back out of the living room and down the hall. Back in the master bedroom again, she re-locked the door, and said, "Nicely done. You've been good, so I will be kind, but not gentle."

She helped me with the dress, unhooking the back and sliding it over my head. I unhooked and unzipped the crinoline, and stepped out of it. She motioned for me to re-hang them in the closet, which I did.

"Now, come with me!" she ordered. I followed her into the large master bath. "Kneel!" was her command. "I am going to prepare you. Stay put! No whining!" I felt something at my anal opening, and felt it slide in, It was narrow and a little long. Then I felt a cold feeling in my lower tummy, and quite a bit of pressure. She was giving me an enema! She pumped more fluid into me until finally it must have broken through the stuff in my bowels. I felt the liquid suddenly fill me, all the way past my belly button. It was strange and scary.

At last she finished pumping fluid, and removed the device. "Head down! Cheeks up! Hold it until I command you to move!" In a couple of minutes, I was starting to cramp up. I needed desperately to release this load. She fulfilled her promise and said, "OK, you may evacuate now. Take your time, and be sure you're completely empty before you come out of here. Go!"

I cramped up a couple of times as I went to the bathroom, and had to flush three times, due to the quantity. Afterward, I used some moist wipes on the toilet back to carefully clean up, and then washed my hands well. I did not want to offend and be punished. I saw firsthand how far that might go.

I exited the bathroom, and she was waiting there. She had on a quite large strap-on dildo. She saw my reaction to it, and said, "It's our wedding night, and I'm going to take my virgin bitch for her first ride."

"Over here. On the bed. NOW!" I could see that she was getting very excited, that this was turning her on and getting her very hot. She laid on top of me, and let her whole weight press down on me as she continued to kiss me deeply. I kissed back. I was about as cranked as she was.

She whispered softly in my ear, "Normally, you would be tied up for this, so that you could not resist, but I have this feeling about you. I want you to give yourself freely to me, submit and be owned by me. I want you to ask for it."

It didn't take me long to respond. "Please, please, master. Please own me. Please take me. I am yours," I said with complete submission. That was exactly what she wanted to hear, and she smiled a broad smile and got up.

She took a condom from her drawer and fitted it onto me. "No messes on the bed," was her explanation. "Now, knees up, legs spread!" she ordered. I did as she commanded. She placed a large pillow under my bottom, raising my ass up, presumably to ease access. I was sure what was coming next. She took a tube of K-Y and started to lube my man-pussy. Then, she coated the tip and shaft of the strap-on, and wiped her hands on a washcloth she had brought.

She climbed on top of me, and held me down by my upper arms. She was a lot bigger and stronger woman than I had thought, and she had me pinned down, unable to move. We locked eyes, and I could feel the tip of the dildo touch my anus.

"Since you're a virgin, you need to do exactly what I say and you won't get hurt. First, you need to push out, like you're going to the bathroom. Don't worry, you're empty, remember?" I did as she instructed, and amazingly, she slipped right in. Way in. Oh, God! I was impaled by this huge dong!

"OK, good so far. Now, just relax, totally relax. I know it's hard, but trust me, you need to not be tense or cramped, or it will definitely hurt. Come on, now, breath, relax, get used to the size, get used to the fullness." She continued to lock eyes with me, and I fell under her spell.

Then she pulled out almost all the way, and I could feel the head of the dong just starting to exit me. She continued looking in my eyes and said, "If you want it, you need to take it. Take it, now!" I was past the point of resistance, of sanity. I thrust myself onto her dong, all the way in. That was all she needed. The pounding began.

She used all of her considerable strength to just hammer me with her tool. She was clearly enjoying this, and surprisingly, so was I. It didn't take long (mercifully) before she began to orgasm from the pounding and the sensory overload. She pulled out gently, rolled me on my side, and spooned me. I could feel her "cock" up against my bum. With her large, strong arm draped over me, she quickly fell asleep, as did I.

The next morning, I awoke to find myself alone in bed, thankfully. I quickly got out of the garter belt and stockings, and spotted a neat pile of guy clothes on the side chair. I eagerly put them on, hoping to then make a quick and discreet exit. I tried the door, and it was indeed unlocked. So far, so good.

I was quiet as I walked down the hall to the kitchen. I rounded the corner and saw Michele and Barb standing close together, arguing. Barb turned to me and said, "Your behavior last night was admirable, so I owe you a favor. Michele here has agreed to destroy all copies of any compromising photos she may have. Isn't that right, dear?"

Michele just nodded in agreement. Clearly the Alpha Male here was not her, but Barb.

I made my way to the door. Barb stopped me and gave me a big hug and a full kiss. "Any time she's not treating you right, just give me a call, and I'll take you in as my own." I gave her a hug and a last peck on the cheek, and went out the door in silence.

On the drive home, thankfully short, Michele said, "Looks like you two got along pretty well last night." I just nodded in agreement. She was clearly pissed, but was suppressing her anger because of the threat Barb made. I thought to myself, it's just as well, and she will have to stop blackmailing me now.

A week later, I was served with divorce papers.