Sep 22, 2009
Big thanks to the fine folks at Sugasm for including my story, Sissy Hubby, in this week's picks!
The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #174? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.
This Week’s Picks
Dressing Room Voyeur
“I caught his gaze this time, on purpose.”
It’s Always the Quiet Ones…
“So grabbing her hips, I pulled her in for a kiss.”
Behind Closed Doors
“Others had watched, she beat me, brought me to tears, held me and then began to untie me.”
The Mouse Drama
Let the Rain Come
Sep 18, 2009
My wife and I had been trying to get pregnant to no avail. I had grown up in a really toxic area and had the sinking feeling that my swimmers weren't treading water.
I had been putting off this appointment for months. It's not that I detest doctors or office visits; I simply can't stand the whole "referral process" that requires me to see my regular doctor, knowing that he needs to send me to a specialist but has to set up on official referral. Such a crock. It's a waste of my time, the doctor's time, and everyone's money.
I had expected a simple "jerk into a cup" kind of appointment with the specialist, Dr. Lan. What I got was something quite different.
We started with a series of questions. He wasn't shy asking about how often I masturbate, the frequency of sex with my wife, and when both things had last occurred.
You would think that I would be fine admitting how frequently I jerk off but it still caught in my throat; the Catholic guilt runs deep. "Three times a week," I croaked and mentally added, "More, if I can." As for sex, after sixteen months of trying my wife seemed to put sex on indefinite hiatus. It had been two months since we'd last "engaged in copulation" (as the doctor put it).
He nodded to each of my responses and marked my chart.
His questions exhausted, I thought that now was the time for the cup and squirt. Far from it. He rolled his chair over next to the padded, paper-covered table on which I sat and cuffed my arm to take my blood pressure. I could smell his cologne, it was a nice counterpoint to the typical medical office odor.
He tore off the cuff when he was done and, like every doctor or nurse I've ever had, didn't tell me the results.
And then began the part of the exam that I had never before experienced at a doctor's office. He had me stand up and take off my shirt. While I did that he retrieved a tape measurer. He unspooled it and wrapped it around my chest with my arms down. Getting the number of inches he marked these on a chart next to a line drawing of a figure. He repeated the process around my stomach, around my shoulders, along one arm and then the other.
Initially I felt like I was being measured for a suit but quickly I found that Dr. Lan was being far more thorough in his assessment. Up and down my arm, even noting the length of my fingers.
He requested that I remove my pants as well and, once I was finished, he began unspooling the tape measurer down my legs, his fingers brushing under my buttocks.
He told me to turn around so he could do the same for the front. I was hesitant to do so as I found myself with the beginnings of a hard-on. I hoped that he wouldn't notice, that he'd be too involved with my legs to not look at the bulge in my underpants.
All the way up and down my legs he worked, the warmth of his hands a welcome presence in the cool of the examination room. He knelt down as he took his myriad measurements, his head even with my crotch. Though I tried not to, it was then that I started thinking about Dr. Lan in sexual terms.
When standing he was a half a head taller than me. Handsome, with an strikingly handsome face. Far thinner than me, he was still muscular and, noting that his white coat was opened, I wondered what he might look like naked. I tried to shake these thoughts from my head as they continued to make my erection more prevalent.
Dr. Lan had me turn around again and walk across the room to watch the way my hips worked, checking for any kind of dysplasia. I caught my reflection in one of the many mirrored surfaces of the room, feeling ridiculous stripped down to my whity-tighties tented out with a hard-on. Worse, after walking away from him I had to walk back, I could feel my dick bobbing in my underpants and hoped that he didn't notice it.
If he did, there was no reaction. Instead, he asked me to repeat my walk a few times before he had me walk in place. While I did so, he put his hands on my hips, pushing his fingers along my joints. Finally he let me stop and marked more notations on my chart. I tried to spy what all he was writing but couldn't make heads or tails of it. He got back up and, putting down his pen, donned a pair of rubber gloves.
"I need you to remove your underwear," he said. I felt my heart jump. As I lowered my underpants I half-expected to hear a cartoon sound effect, "Sproing!"
My "one-eyed snake" stared Dr. Lan in the face. Ignoring it, he reached underneath and grabbed onto my testicles. "Turn to the right and cough," he instructed. His hand felt wonderful on my balls. I wanted him to tug on them. I coughed for him and he had me repeat this a few times.
"I'm going to take your temperature," he said, getting up and going to his cabinet. I sat on the exam table, the paper crinkling under my ass. As he returned with a thermometer he said, "I prefer to do it rectally."
I shrugged and got off of the table to turn around for him. "Reach back and spread your cheeks for me," he said. As I did I felt the cool of lubrication being applied to my sphincter. This gentle rubbing was all too quickly interrupted by the intrusion of the thermometer sliding inside of me. I stood there in this awkward position, my erection pressed between my body and the exam table and my hand spreading my ass cheeks for what seemed like an eternity, all the while one of his hands rested on my lower back.
His watch beeped and he took out the thermometer. He read it and put it aside before he began sliding his fingers gently inside of me. He slid them in deep until he began gently prodding my prostate gland. My cock jumped at his touch.
His fingers seemed to linger longer than maybe they should have as they continued to press against my prostate. I felt a tingle in my loins, the kind that comes with urination or orgasm, that "loss of control" sensation. I tried my best to resist it.
"Very good," he said, removing his gloves with a snap behind me.
"Please get up on the table," he instructed as he disposed of his gloves and donned a new pair.
I lay back on the table, my legs hanging off the edge and my cock waving.
Standing next to me, Dr. Lan looked down, a small white plastic cup in his hand, and said, "I need a sample of your sperm so I can test the motility. There are a few ways we can do this; you can manipulate yourself, I can give you a prostate massage, or I can give a prostate massage and manipulate you at the same time."
I gulped and wondered if he could be serious about his offer. Rather than repeating what he said I merely indicated, "The last one, please."
"In that case, I'd prefer if you kept your eyes closed." He reached into a drawer underneath the exam table and brought out some gauze. He unrolled a bit and placed it over my eyes. I lifted my head and he began wrapping the gauze around it until he was satisfied that I couldn't see. I could still make out shapes and shadows but only through a white curtain.
After adding some more lubrication to his gloves, Dr. Lan reached down between my legs and to insert a finger inside of me again. This time he found my prostate immediately and began rubbing it softly. Meanwhile, he wrapped the fingers of his other hand around my cock and began stroking me. His firm, sure grasp made me moan before I could even realize what I was doing.
I could hear the sound of lubrication squelching in my bottom as he began moving his finger in and out of me in time with his hand pumping my cock. It felt so good as he expertly jerked my cock.
"What do you usually think about when you masturbate?" he asked me. The question startled and embarrassed me. Moreover, it perplexed me. Did he want the truth or did he want to hear something that would please him? What would make him happiest to hear? Why was he asking? Was this turning him on too? Did he want to know so that he could fulfill my turn-on?
These questions flew through my mind while my mouth quietly uttered, "Sucking cock."
Again, I couldn't believe that I had admitted this to anyone, much less this stoic physician. My body seemed to be in revolt. I wasn't saying or doing what I thought was right, only what, apparently, was necessary. This became completely evident as I reached my hand out to where I thought the front of his slacks should be.
I found his cock tenting his pants and gently rubbed my palm against it. He felt huge and rock hard. I hoped that I wasn't stroking his otoscope. His reaction made it clear that I wasn't. He pushed himself against my hand and I felt the wonderful upward curve of his cock filling my fingers.
"Would it make it easier to ejaculate if you were holding that?" he asked.
He stopped stroking me and I heard the sound of his belt and zipper being undone, his pants falling to the floor with a jangle of keys and change. He put his hand back on me and I reached again for his cock, fumbling in the dark until my fingers found him and wrapped around him.
His cock felt wonderful, so hot and hard. I could feel the tendrils of pubic hair as my fist went down his length and the dribble of precum as I moved back up him again. I licked my lips and began jerking his cock in time with the way he stroked mine. "Tighter," he said. I obliged, tightening my grip on his manhood. He groaned in appreciation and I squeezed even more, so tight that it was difficult to stroke him completely. He helped by pumping his cock into my fist.
His cock was like a living relief map. I could feel the veins throbbing in my hand. He groaned again, I looked up at his face, trying to gauge his reaction but was unable to see anything but a blurry shadow through the gauze.
He plunged his fingers in deeper inside of me and I knew that I was going to cum soon. I felt him pushing me farther along, taking me to that place I love to go. Needing him there with me, I pumped him harder, faster.
His manipulation put me over the edge. I felt hot drops of spunk landing on my stomach. They were quickly joined by more on my chest as Dr. Lan began cumming. My hand was wrapped around him so tightly that I could feel the cum moving under my thumb as he drained himself onto me.
I didn't want to take my hand off of him. I wanted more of him. I could feel his pulse pounding in my hand. He slowly removed his fingers from inside of me and took his hand off my cock. I did the same for him. He ran the plastic cup along my belly, collecting some of my ejaculate.
"That should be enough for testing," he said, the zip of his pants loud in my ear. "Though, we may need to take another sample if the lab can't process this."
I felt him wiping me off with a wet towel, cleaning himself off of me, before he cut away the gauze over my eyes. I felt like proclaiming, "I can see!" but ruled that a little melodramatic. By the time I sat up on the table he looked as if nothing had happened.
He made one more mark on my chart before off-handedly saying that I'd have my results back in two weeks and to make a follow-up appointment at the front desk before leaving me to re-dress alone in the exam room. I made my appointment and knew I wouldn't mind spending the money on my co-pay the next time I came around.
Sep 15, 2009
I know. I know all about it.
I didn't tell you but I set up a "nanny cam" to keep an eye on the maid service. Things just kept getting out of order in my things -- panties out of place, earrings misplaced. I thought we were being ripped off. To say that I was surprised when I reviewed the tape and saw you dressed up in my things, well, that's a bit of an understatement.
Now hush, darling. It's okay. I'm not mad. If anything, I'm happy. It's something that can bring us closer together. If I'm angry about anything it's only that you never trusted me enough to tell me. I can forgive you.
Yes, honey, I'm happy to have finally found out your "little secret." But it's not so little to you, is it? How long have you been sneaking into my underwear drawer? From the day we moved in together? And before that? How long have you been dressing up pretty?
All these years. It makes you feel good, doesn't it? Yes, guilty, but good. You don't have to feel that way anymore, baby. You're safe here with me. And I'm going to help you. I'm going to make you the prettiest girl you can be.
Yes, I'm going to enjoy dressing you up, darling. I'll help turn you into my sweet sissy. Oh, too soon? You're not a sissy? Surely you jest. I saw you mincing around in my slip, feeling your chest, primping your hair. And I saw just how hot it made you. If you don't remember I can show you the tape. It's quite enlightening.
No? You'll have to take my word for it, then. But don't try to kid a kidder. You may not think of yourself this way but you're a sissy, my dear. Do you need proof? I can provide that. Let me just get out of these.... Now, here. These are my favorite panties. See how nice they look? The black lace? The satin material? See how it shines in the light? Very pretty, yes? And how badly do you want to feel these on your body? Yes, that's what I thought. Oh, I can see a little bulge there in your pants. Yes, it's quite evident how much you want to wear these.
Go head, baby. Take off your pants. Oh yes, you definitely like the idea of my panties. Yes, the underwear too. You won't be wearing boy underwear again, darling. I've thrown all of those hideous briefs and boxers away, and I donated nearly all of your clothes to charity. You'll find your closet restocked with far more darling outfits. What? You mean that isn't what you want; to be a full-time sissy? Well, I'm sorry dear but that's what I want and I don't think you have much say in it... unless you want that tape being shared. No? That's what I thought.
Now, put on these panties. There you are. Oh, I see that you're inflating again, filling them out nicely. Yes, you look so pretty in those. How do you feel? Scared, yes, I'm sure. It's going to be a big change for you. But a needed change, though. It's time for you to live in your own skin.
Here's a new outfit that I bought you, darling. Go ahead, open it up. Do you like it? Yes, I thought you would. Try it on, I can't wait to see how it looks.
Oh, how pretty! Oh yes, I knew I had your size right. And that color. Oh, it brings out your eyes. Do you want to take a look? Close the door and you can use my full-length mirror on the back. Oh, yes, there she is. There's my pretty girl. Mmm, it's hard to keep my hand off of you. The material feels so nice and you just look so cute! Doesn't this feel better than sneaking around and stuffing yourself into my clothes? This is your own outfit, hon. All yours, pretty girl, and you can dress this way around me any time... in fact, I insist on it.
I think what's going to make you look even better is a nice pair of stockings. Yes, black to match your outfit. Have a seat. Here you are. I know that you know how to put these on. Show me. Oh, good. You do that very well. These stay up by themselves but something tells me you'd like garters... why be a girl without all the accoutrements? We'll have to go shopping for those soon, maybe this weekend.
And now, the shoes. I know you haven't fit your feet into my shoes. I bought you your very own pair. Let me just slip these on and... Oh, Cinderella. The shoe fits! Now the other one. Oh, I'm so glad these work because I bought quite a few from the same retailer. They specialize in, um, special girls like you...
Let me take your hand and help you stand up. How's that? You're a little shaky but not bad. Walk across the room for me, darling. Oh, have you worn high heels before? No? You're a natural! The shifting of your weight and the shimmy in your hips. Oh, you are yummy. Walk back to me. Oh yes. I like the way your legs cross in front of each other. Very nice. And the way you point your toes!
Sit down here at my make-up table and let me spruce you up just a bit. I want to be sure that you look good for our evening out.
What? Oh yes, of course we'll be going out. I want to show you off! That retailer, who sold me the shoes, they were thrilled to have a new customer. They let me know about a party that's happening just a few miles away from their shop. You'd be surprised at how many events there are in our city for sissys. I'm going to take you out and introduce you to your new life, sweetheart.
There. Your face is perfect and your hair looks divine. I'm just going to put this choker on you. Yes, I know it's a bit tight but this will let everyone know that you're mine, darling. And you are mine. All mine. My sissy, all dressed up and ready to meet the world. Now, hurry up, let's not be late to the party!
Sep 7, 2009
Big thanks to the folks at Sugasm for including my story, Shopping Day, in the latest group of goodies.
The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #173? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.
This Week’s Picks
A Hot Fuck in a Parking Lot
“We got more daring and soon clothes were a hindrance to our insistent hands.”
I Think I’d Rather Misbehave
“I bet the secret thrill of this has your cock already climbing to attention.”
“He says something, small talk, and I stutter something back, lost in the blue depths of his eyes.”
Yet Another Reason You Should Buy a Vibrator
Sep 1, 2009
We spent Saturday afternoon downtown doing some shopping. Having gone without breakfast, one of our first stops was at the local deli to pick up a few sandwiches. I fetched the food while Daddy took a seat.
As I set the tray down, he took my hand in his, pressing the rubber dingus into my palm. When it touched my skin, I’m sure I gasped. Its length was barely concealed by our hands. “Go into the Ladies Room and put that in, girl,” he instructed.
I nodded, taking the buttplug and hurrying off. I could feel his eyes on me the whole way. I had a spring in my step, excited to serve my Daddy.
The restroom was a single stall, allowing me some privacy as I slicked up the plug—pink jelly about five inches long—with the lube I always kept in my purse. I raised my skirt, lowered my underwear, and bent over the sink before sinking it home in my bottom. No matter how often Daddy had me full like this, I always felt invaded. Though it was relatively skinny, about the size of my middle finger, it felt far larger as it entered me.
My body adjusted to the plug, accommodating its girth. I could feel my pussy get wet as much from being opened as doing it for my Daddy.
I teetered back to my seat, feeling the plug working deeper into me as I moved. Daddy gave me a wry grin but didn’t say anything else about it while we ate. The day was going to prove interesting, trying to hold in the plug and concentrate as we did our shopping.
With great effort I kept my legs together as I stood and waited for Daddy in every shop. My instructions were clear: I would stand by the entrance of the shop, looking cute and keeping my hands to myself. I rocked gently on my heels, feeling the plug slowly fucking me and thinking the whole time, “This is Daddy’s finger inside of me.” No one would have suspected that I was working myself up at every stop, the plug nestled between my cheeks under my flowered skirt. I didn’t look at all like the slut I felt like. I resembled any other college girl in the campus town in my sandals and peasant blouse. Only the black choker around my neck stood in any contrast to the noveau hippy fashion I enjoyed (and Daddy enjoyed, too).
Daddy and I found one another the summer before. He was a regular customer at the video store where I worked as a tape jockey. Something about the way he carried himself set him apart from the rest of the maddening crowd. I began keeping an eye on the movies that he rented and would secret them back to my apartment after he returned them. There were no usual blockbusters and new releases to be found. Instead, I witnessed some very unusual tales of troubled people that invariably worked out issues through spanking, bondage, and other kinky things. My mind kept returning to these images and themes whenever I masturbated.
I don’t know how he found out or if he was only guessing when he returned a tape one day and caught my eye only to say, “Enjoy.” Maybe I heard him wrong. I never did ask. Instead, I couldn’t wait to take the tape home with me that night and see what new pleasures awaited. It was the story of a man who hires a new secretary. He finds her work ethic lacking and corrects her with a spanking. “This is what he wants to do to me,” I thought, watching the man in the film redden the girl’s bottom. And, moreover, that’s what I wanted done to me.
“I enjoyed that movie,” I said, the next time I saw him.
“I thought you might,” he said, nodding knowingly. He asked me about my next night off and told me when and where we’d meet. He wasn’t shy. Rather than asking if I wanted to serve him, he simply laid out some ground rules and expectations. Within hours, I was on my kneeling before him for the first time. That night I gave up who I was when I was with him. Ever since then, he’s been “Daddy” and I’ve been “girl.” His girl.
Every minute that went by while we shopped, I found myself getting more aroused. Things came to a fever pitch when we went to a store that had a second story. Going up the stairs with Daddy behind me, he put his hand on the base of the plug and pushed it deeper as he followed. I almost orgasmed right there. And, as it was, I had to stop and catch my breath as Daddy browsed the antiques. I was positively dripping with desire but knew that Daddy wouldn’t do anything about it until he saw fit. Nothing I could do would sway him from his plans for today, especially since I knew that this torture was all part of what he had in mind.
Daddy liked making me mad with desire and he knew just how to do it. It wasn’t easy for him, I’m sure, as I didn’t come to our relationship with a list of turn-ons. I’d never served anyone before. It was all new to me. He was patient, pushing me in new directions all the time, seeing what worked and what didn’t. Fortunately, nearly everything he did turned me on including things that I never would have considered even a year before. It’d only been in the last few months that Daddy had begun exploring my bottom.
Again, I never thought I’d allow anyone to enter me back there and perish the thought that I’d enjoy it. I didn’t enjoy it… I loved it. Feeling Daddy’s toys, fingers, or cock inside of me elevated me to another plane. I never fathomed that such sensations existed or that the key to them rested inside my back door. Daddy knew this and used it to his full advantage. On those rare occasions where Daddy allowed me a choice as to how he would fuck me, I found myself begging for him to take me from behind.
Finally, Daddy was done with his shopping. I carried the bags back to the car, walking awkwardly. Throughout the day it felt like the plug grew three sizes.
Now came the hard part, sitting in the car as Daddy drove us home, the vibrations from the road finding their way through me via the plug, the pressure of sitting driving me crazy. I had thoughts of Daddy telling me to spread my legs and masturbating for him right there. I would have loved that, true, but what I really wanted was to feel his cock inside of me.
Back at our apartment, Daddy didn’t waste any time, thank goodness. After setting down the bags, Daddy told me to stay bent over. I reached for my toes and felt my skirt go up over my back and my panties lowered down past my knees.
“Oh, look at this,” he said to no one in particular. “My girl’s panties are soaking wet. Did she have an accident? It couldn’t be that she got so excited by having her ass open for me all day, could it?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I said, my voice muffled by my position.
“Let’s see just how wet she is,” he said, sliding at least two fingers into my sopping pussy. I shuddered around him, my knees growing weak as I felt him deep inside of me. “Oh yes, she is very wet. It must have been so difficult for a slut like her to be so aroused and not touch herself today,” he said, teasingly.
I could only moan in reply. I was powerless now. Everything began and ended with my sex. I existed as two holes, both of them filled by Daddy.
He put his thumb on the plug, pushing it in as he fucked my pussy with his fingers. They felt good, but what I really wanted was his cock.
“Please Daddy,” I sputtered, “Please fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me.”
“What’s that?” he asked, his fingers pumping harder. “Do you need something?”
“Yes, Sir. Please, Daddy. I need your cock.”
“How do you need it?”
I didn’t know what kind of answer he wanted to hear. I only knew how I needed him.
“In my ass, Daddy. I need you to fuck my ass. Please?” I begged, pushing back into his hand, my hips bucking.
“Oh, she does need it badly, doesn’t she?”
He freed my bottom from the plug. As soon as I was out, I missed it. I felt a gaping need, like I had been made hollow.
Without warning I felt the hot head of his cock against me. “This cock here? Is this what you need?”
“Yes, Daddy! Yes!” I screamed, my voice strained with desperate lust.
“Show me how much you want it,” he said. “Push back onto it. Fuck yourself with my cock.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. Even with the lack of leverage in the way I was bent over, I strained and found my bottom opening to take him inside, made easier by being stretched all damn day long.
I was hollow no more. He filled me, wonderfully and completely. I skewered myself on his manhood, feeling him, far larger than the plug and all the more satisfying.
I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead as I struggled to take all of him inside of me. I couldn’t get the leverage I needed to slam myself onto him, to fuck myself properly. I found myself whining, wanting to stand up and brace myself against the wall and fuck him properly. It was delicious torture and he knew it. Daddy didn’t do anything he didn’t mean, especially when it came to torturing me.
Finally, I fit every bit of him inside of me. Then I began the arduous task of getting him out before pushing back once again.
The feather-light touch of his fingers on my hips made me gasp. He grasped me around the waist after I had gone nearly his entire length. He pulled me back onto him, rough, fast, and with all of the authority I had ceded to him as his girl. I was his and he reminded me of this fact every time he plunged his cock deep into my behind.
Then came my favorite part, the moment I never could have even imagined biologically possible. Though Daddy was fucking my ass, the motion and the emotion became such that I felt an orgasm building inside of me. It didn’t come from my clit, like most of my orgasms in my “previous life”, life before Daddy, had been. These felt like they came from somewhere outside of me, entering my body through every pore.
Daddy grunted, his fingers digging into my skin. I knew I’d be bruised by nightfall. I wanted those marks. I relished every one for they were a sign that I had provided pleasure to my Daddy.
As quickly as I slid that plug into my bottom all those hours before came the orgasm that nearly knocked me off my feet. I shuddered, my body spasming around him. This brought him, too, to completion.
No matter how many times it happened, I could never quite get used to the sensation of Daddy’s cock cumming inside of my behind. It was a mix of warmth and wetness that felt like an alien life taking root.
I never wanted the fucking to end; always feeling a little sad after Daddy slowly slid his softening cock from out of me. Again, I felt a little hollow, though Daddy’s seed inside of me tempered that feeling well enough that I didn’t beg for the plug to go back in this time.
Sweaty and exhausted, Daddy and I showered before he allowed me to see everything he bought during the day. I must have been on his mind as much as he was on mine as everything he bought had been presents for me! But nothing could top the present he had given me by allowing me to be his.