The Spring Formal: A Fantasy

When I showed up at Mr. & Mrs. Del Vecchio's house the night of the Spring Formal, they seemed rather surprised to see me. I had been away at college for the last eight months but fully expected that the Del Vecchios would have known that I'd be by to pick up Vickie, their daughter, for the big dance. She and I had dated all throughout high school and I had promised her long ago that I'd take her to this dance when she was a Senior, despite me graduating a year ahead of her.

Mrs. Del Vecchio disappeared upstairs for a bit while Mr. Del Vecchio regaled me with stories of cleaning his gutters. When Vickie came downstairs, she looked like something out of a storybook. She wore a long, yellow dress. Her hair was up with ringlets playing at the side of her beautiful face. She wore opera gloves with a corsage on her wrist. This gave me pause as I looked at the corsage I was holding in my hands for her.

Something seemed different about Vickie. When I left her in the Fall, she still seemed like an innocent. This new Vickie had a harder edge about her. I could tell by the steely look in her eyes and the set of her jaw. She noticed the corsage and rolled her eyes ever-so-slightly before saying, "Looks like my ride is here. I was wondering if you'd show up. Otherwise, I'd be driving myself to the dance."

Mrs. and Mr. Del Vecchio exchanged some awkward pleasantries with me before Vickie grabbed her wrap and started to leave. The Del Vecchios started for their camera but Vickie told them that she wasn't in the mood for pictures. "Though, I will take your camera," she said, liberating it from her mother.

Vickie stood by the door of my car, waiting for me to open the door for her, apparently. I did so, though she gave me a reproachful glare as if I hadn't done it fast enough.

She remained rather quiet despite my attempts at conversation and she outright refused to give me a hello kiss. It took a while before she was ready to talk.

"I wondered if you'd have the guts to show up," she said. "I don't know if you're crazy or stupid or both."

I had no idea what she was talking about. It was as if she had had a conversation with me sometime in the past that I couldn't recall. She seemed like she was in such a bad mood, though, I didn't want to set her off. I assumed that she had to be PMSing and knew that I was in for a long night.

---

Coming back to my old high school definitely felt strange. I was so beyond this place. Yet, there I was with my old high school sweetheart and all of the other kids who were one year younger than me. But, there was someone else there that stood out like a sore thumb.

Standing up as we came in, he stood a little over six-feet tall and had the face of a man, not a boy. Something in the way he held himself betrayed that he was uncomfortable wearing a suit. He was smiling broadly when we walked in and I looked behind me to see if he was looking at someone back there. Rather, he held open his arms and Vickie ran to him, greeting him with a big hug and an open-mouthed kiss that took me aback.

I was stopped, dead in my tracks. I felt a hand on my elbow. It was Deana, Vickie's best friend and coworker. I had always shared a mutual dislike with her. She lead me over to Vickie and her, uh, friend. I was hoping for Deana to introduce this man as her own boyfriend.

"Mike," Deanna said, her voice dripping with disdain, "this is Anthony."

The big man offered me his hand and shook it firmly. He pulled me close to him during the handshake and said quietly, "I've heard a lot about you. I'm glad you showed up."

Perplexed, Anthony took a seat with Vickie to one side and Deana to the other. The three of them were thick as thieves. I sat across from them at our little table and wondered what the hell was going on.

Anthony reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a flask which he used to freshen the girls' drinks, along with his own. He tipped it toward me, to offer me whatever it was, but I declined. I had never seen Vickie or Deanna ever drink before; they had both been ardent members of S.A.D. (Students Against Drinking) when last I saw them. Now they were guzzling their spiked soft drinks and going back to Anthony for more.

Vickie was a little tipsy when she and Anthony left for the dance floor. It was so loud in the hall that I couldn't hear anything that they said and now I strained to hear Deanna as she yelled across the table to me.

I only managed to hear snatches of what she said. I tried hard to catch everything but only came away with, "both of us," "more than enough," "a month after you left," "finally satisfied," and what sounded like, "truckload." She leaned back after her tirade with a self-satisfied grin on her face. She looked like a lioness who had been batting around her food and now was enjoying the damage she had inflicted.

I felt absolutely helpless as I sat and watched Vickie and Anthony out on the dance floor. She was grinding against him and he was grinding right back in a lurid display. Even though she was dancing with another man, my feelings of lust overcame my sense of jealousy. Vickie had never been overly sexual with me. She was raised Catholic and always hesitant to go further than "first base" with me. I wheedled and whined enough to get a few hand jobs from her and even rubbed my finger along her vagina (only on the outside) once. The thing she loved to do, now that I thought about it, was grind up against me. She would give herself fabric burn from her jeans as she rubbed herself to orgasm against my leg in my parents' basement.

I watched now as she ground her pelvis against Anthony and knew that she had gone much farther with him. There wasn't a doubt. And, from what Deanna had said, it sounded like Anthony had gone as far with her as well. Deanna had once had a crush on me but I wasn't able to reciprocate since I couldn't stand her. Ever since then she had played the vicious flirt with me, always being inappropriate around anyone I was going out with. She had gotten her claws into Vickie shortly before I left for college and it looked like this new relationship with Anthony was her doing.

I don't know why I didn't just storm out of there. This was humiliating beyond measure. Yet, I was riveted. I don't know if it was some kind of masochistic drive that kept me there but I needed to see what would happen and felt, somewhere, that this was all justified. I had left Vickie and Deana seemed to swoop in while I was away and turned her into... this.

When Anthony and Vickie returned to the table, they were both visibly winded and aroused. The lump in Anthony's trousers was almost as big as the lump in my throat that I tried hard to swallow. "Let's go," Anthony said and the four of us left the hall. Vickie led us straight to my car.

"You drive," Anthony told me. He and Vickie got into the back seat while Deanna sat next to me. Deanna started giving me directions. In my rear view mirror I watched as Anthony and Vickie started making out. Her hand went to the front of his trousers immediately and she began rubbing him through the material of his pants the way she used to do to me only months before.

What happened next had never happened between us. Vickie fished Anthony's cock out of his pants, her hands still in her elbow-length gloves, before she hunched over to take it into her mouth. Deanna looked from that scene to my face before telling me that I should keep my eyes on the road at least half of the time. "Plus, there'll be plenty of time to watch Vickie sucking on Anthony later."

Without quite knowing where I was going (but somehow listening to where Deanna told me to turn), the four of us ended up at the luxurious Hilton Hotel near the convention center a few cities over. Anthony already had a room reserved, though I was the one who ended up putting it on my credit card as we checked in. While I waited for the clerk to process my paperwork, Deanna, Vickie, and Anthony stood nearby; his beefy arms around the pair of them as they whispered and laughed together. Vickie's hair, still piled high on her head, had begun to come unraveled a bit, thanks to Anthony holding her mouth down over his cock in my backseat.

The threesome stayed as thick as thieves as we took the interminable elevator ride up to our suite. As soon as we entered, Anthony produced his flask again and filled two of the glasses atop the mini-bar for Deanna and Vickie. He dry swallowed a blue pill while the two gulped their drinks like the unsophisticated teens they were before Anthony told them, "All right girls, it's show time."

Without further provocation, they both fell to their knees, their formal dresses billowing out around them. Deanna and Vickie began kissing passionately in a flurry of hair, hands, and tongues. Soon their dresses were off of them and they were pressing their bare breasts together. Anthony was obviously enjoying the show as he reached into his pants and unleashed his aroused member. He began stroking himself with one hand, his flask in the other, as Vickie and Deanna topped onto their sides in a heap of Sybaritic passion.

I couldn't help but get turned on, too, as I saw Deanna putting her hand under Vickie's skirt and hearing my "date" squeal with delight.

"Oh, man. I've got to put my dick in one of you," Anthony moaned as he stroked himself. "Get Vicki ready to fuck," he told Deanna. Then he added, "Get him to help."

Deanna lead Vicki to the room's king-size bed and stripped her completely. I couldn't think of a time before this that I had ever seen Vickie undressed all the way. She laid the tipsy Vickie onto the bed and helped Vickie hold her legs up high over her head. Addressing me, Deanna said, "Get over here and lick this whole for Anthony's pole."

A chance to lick Vickie's pussy--no matter what the circumstances--was something I had always wanted. I kneeled between Vickie's legs, Deanna next to me, and leaned over to taste Vickie's pussy.

"No!" Deanna yelled and pushed my head away from Vickie. "You're not to touch there! Vickie is a virgin and no one is to touch her there. You never got that, did you? You were always trying to get in there and that will never happen. That's sacred. You need to lick here," she said, indicating the pink rosebud of Vickie's anus. "This is the only place we enter her."

I was hesitant to put my tongue anywhere near that spot and this showed as I slowly moved my head back down near to Vickie's sex. As I stuck out the tip of my tongue, Deanna grabbed the back of my head and pushed me into Vickie's tight anus. Vickie squealed again, and I realized that this was where Deanna had been playing a few minutes before.

"That's it," Deanna hissed in my ear. "Lick her good. This is the first time you've ever made her feel good. And do you know why you're licking there? You're getting her nice and ready for Anthony's dick. He's got a real man's dick, not that little excuse that you have between your legs. Vickie told me all about it. She told me about all the times you tried to finger her and when you tried to get her to 'kiss your penis,'" she guffawed. The hard-on in my pants was quickly shrinking, horrified by the idea of Vickie sharing any and all intimate details of our past with Deanna.

I continued to lick and lick. I could feel Vickie's anus grasping at my tongue as she wriggled and cooed on the bed. I then felt Anthony's presence on my other side and could see the shadow of his hand stroking his dick. I'd never been so close to another man's penis and knowing that he would be putting it where I was licking... and in my "girlfriend"... was freaking me out. What disturbed me even more was the feel of Deanna's hand loosening my belt and lowering my trousers.

"You need to get him away from there," Anthony moaned. "Now!"

Deanna pulled me away in time for Anthony to push his cock into Vickie's wet anus. She gasped and he grunted as he began pumping her tender tush full of him. I watched in fascination and horror as Anthony did what I only had done in my wildest masturbatory fantasies. Vickie mewled like a cat in heat, her painted nails clawing at his back as he thrusted in and out of her.

Deanna held me tightly and from her breathing I could tell she was excited about what she was seeing. She reached down behind me and I felt a finger invade me. I tried to pull away but she wrapped her other arm around my neck and hissed, "Stay still!" She was choking me slightly as she pushed a finger inside of me. It hurt and I felt incredibly awkward with her doing this to me. She began pushing her finger in and out of me in time with Anthony's thrusts into Vickie. I couldn't believe, however, that I felt my penis getting hard again despite my horror and this whole scene.

As Anthony got closer to climax, Deanna seemed to insert another finger, and another, until it felt like I was about to be torn apart below. As she did this, Deanna whispered into my ear, "Yes... yes... look at how he fucks her. I love watching him take her. The only thing I like more is when he fucks me, too. When he goes back and forth between us, seeing how long he can go before he cums. And whenever I get his cum, Vickie cleans me out. Your 'girlfriend' has a talented tongue. Oh, here it is!"

As if on cue, Anthony's body tensed and he emitted a low howl as his whole body began to shake. "Oh, shit!" he screamed as he emptied his load into Vickie. I felt Deanna's fingers tense in time with Anthony, as if channeling his orgasm into me.

Anthony withdrew his cock from Vickie's bum and took a seat in a nearby chair. He was breathing heavily and simply nodded at Deanna. "Now it's time to earn your keep," she said to me. She pulled her fingers out of my bottom and, oddly, I almost wanted them back in me. "Your job is to clean Vickie up," she said as she pushed against my back. I fell to my hands (already on my knees) and crawled the remaining few inches to the bed where I kneeled and put my mouth near her now stretched-out anus. Anthony's cum was spread across the entrance and slowly dripped down the tender slope of Vickie's ass.

As I steeled myself before beginning my work, I watched Deanna crawl between Anthony's legs and clean off his spunk-covered, still-hard cock with her tongue. His head lolled back as she licked from cock-head to balls and back again.

I could smell the strong scent of Anthony's spunk before my nose even got close to Vickie's asshole. It smelled like anchovies -- like sea salt and something else. It tasted worse. I tried to suck in the spunk without tasting it but that was difficult. I slurped it into my mouth and swallowed as quickly as I could. The closer I got to Vickie's asshole the warmer the spunk and the less-disgusting it was. I finally locked my lips over Vickie's anus and began to suck. I couldn't believe how much spunk Anthony had put into her. The harder I sucked, the more Vickie began to moan. Giving her pleasure was a unique side-benefit of this obscene task.

Vickie's moans were suddenly muffled. Looking up, I watched Deanna continue to settle her vagina over Vickie's mouth. Deanna caught me watching and yelled, "Get back to work!"

I went back to sucking and licking Vickie's ass clean as Deanna rode my 'girlfriend's' face. I thought back to how Vickie had been grossed out by the girl-on-girl scenes of Tony Scott's THE HUNGER; and now she was bringing Deanna to a screaming orgasm. It didn't take long for Deanna to climax, her body shuddering as Vickie got her off.

I felt a hand on the back of my head as Anthony pulled me away from Vickie and said, "Let's see how you did." He pushed a thick finger inside of her and examined it after he pulled it out. "Looks clean. Good job." He patted my head like a dog before he moved up onto the bed to lay with Deanna and Vickie (who finally lowered her legs).

The tang of Anthony's cum still filled my mouth. I sat on the floor as the three of them relaxed. Anthony off-handedly tweaked Vickie's nipples as he asked, "Is this everything you wanted your Spring Formal to be?"

Vickie nodded vigorously. "This was perfect," she said.

---

I sat patiently as the three of them kissed and cuddled. Eventually, Vickie got up and put her dress back on. Offhandedly, Deanna told me to get ready to leave.

Driving Vickie home, she didn't say anything to me until we were just a few miles from her house. "I'm glad that you agreed to do this."

"Agreed?" I said, my voice cracking. "What do you mean, 'agreed'?!"

Haughtily she countered, "I described everything that you would be required to do in my letter."

I gave her a blank look. "Letter?"

"The one I sent two weeks ago," she chided.

"Vickie, did you send it to my school address?"

She nodded.

"I was in Germany for the last month and came straight from the airport to your place after getting my tux," I reminded her.

She sat, stunned, for several minutes. She looked out the window without saying anything, watching the lights of the houses we passed until we got to her parent's place.

I got out of the car and opened her door for her.

After she got out, she stood in the moonlight, a queer look on her face. She reached up and kissed me, the taste of Deanna still on her lips. "You did a great job," she said. "When you go back to school, read my letter and let me know what you think of my letter. If you agree to my terms, I think that there are a lot of fun things on the horizon... for both of us."

I stood and watched her go inside before I started the long drive back to school. I wondered what door I had just entered and if I would be up to continuing down this path.

More Fun Images

The British Look

Helena Bonham Carter

I love bad girls.

Bizarre but Oddly Sexy

More Sexy Dolls

Little Voodoo Dolly

Most of my fantasies are pretty run of the mill. And I know this. Humiliation, feminization, cuckolding, foot sucking, blah blah blah. It's all typical stuff. There are very few areas where I would think that I'm breaking new ground. It's a rarity when I even begin to entertain other fetish arenas. Though, every once in a while, something will pop into my head where I think, "Wow, where did that come from?" Even on those occasions, I find that I've been "scooped" and that someone's already fantasized about it before. But that's really to be expected. As I alluded to a few posts ago, certain things are pretty universal when it comes to male fantasies.

• The ability to stop time so you can undress women and have your way with them.
• X-Ray Glasses
• Psychic powers ("The highest society glamour girls were his to claim...")
• The living doll

Essentially, all of those could be seen as being related. They're science fiction and all put women at a disadvantage. Objectifying them. And some men want to be objectified, too. Helpless.

I thought about this the other day when an image popped into my head of a story for "SDI" -- Sex Dolls International. A group that provides women to men that are "programmed" with certain key words that will turn them into mindless drones. I pictured a friend of mine (who shall remain nameless) with pigtails in her hair and her arms held up like a marionette.

I'm not sure if I'll entertain this fantasy much more, or expand it as a story. I did go so far as to look up some other fun fetish tales involving people being turned into sex dolls. Most of these also involve feminization. Enjoy!

• A Room For Winter
• Blow Up Doll
• Paul the Slave Girl
• Dream Doll
• I'm Your Doll

For other robot stories visit Mind Control Stories

Phone Whore

I was a phone whore.

My wife at the time (now ex) suggested that I become a phone sex operator. I don't know why she did this -- it was completely out of character for her -- unless it might have been to give me an outlet for my sexual deviance. Maybe if I got off on the phone sex enough I'd leave her the hell alone and stop "bothering" her with the need for any kind of love and/or affection.

Regardless of her intention, I looked into it and found a job. Male phone sex operators are fairly rare and with good reason.

The way it worked was that I set up a schedule with an agency. They would forward calls during a certain time period to my home phone (this was in an era before cell phones were as popular) and I would get an automated operator asking if I was available to take a call. If so, I accepted and was connected.

Usually, the callers were on a "party line" which had all of two people on it -- the caller and me. Getting a one-on-one call was a rarity, most likely because they cost more. The cheap bastards...

Guys who called the "party line" probably expected to eavesdrop on an ongoing male orgy. What they got was me. A bored twentysomething who had never had a bisexual experience (at that time) and would rather have been watching a movie than trying to extract a conversation. Barely any of the guys that called were willing to talk. They were, however, willing to listen. I would try to get a response from them -- a "hello" even -- and, if that didn't work, I'd start riffing by myself. Thinking of all the things that a male phone whore should/would/could say. I pretended like I was watching a man-on-man film and would describe the action or I'd put myself into the situation. I'd describe the last guy I picked up at a rest stop and fucked. Something, anything, to fill the time.

I started calling other phone sex lines to see how the operators handled it. They all had an unfair advantage, though, as I actually talked to them. A talking customer is definitely a lot easier than a mute one. Even if the talk is crazy. Listening is a lot simpler than making shit up when you're not in the mood.

I noticed that I was putting more money on my credit cards than I was making at my phone sex job. I was becoming an addict. It was a bizarre situation. I was getting the attention that I craved from my wife but I was paying for it -- and not getting paid for it.

In the three months that I worked for the phone sex line, I only had one good customer. He called me up and spoke to me! He was wearing panties and that was one thing I could actually relate to. Alas, I managed to "talk him off" too fast. He orgasmed after only a few minutes of chat, thus becoming my first and only client to cum from my voice (that I was aware of). This gave me great satisfaction but made all of the other calls pale in comparison. Where were the panty boys when I was sitting, listening to white noise on the phone line imagining some guy on the other end with his cock out, disappointed in the lack of action.

I still frequent phone sex lines -- I have one particular operator that I find incredibly arousing with her vast imagination. A few times I've talked her into allowing me to be the operator while she's the listener. That's been fun. It's not something I can, or want to, do often but, with the right person, it can be a highly charged experience.

Undressing Scarlett

Video was removed

Thank goodness that technology is catching up with our adolescent "X-Ray Glasses" fantasies.

Re-Education: A Fantasy

He awoke, groggy, the feeling of unnatural sleep still holding him down and he began to feel an immediate malaise. As quickly, he realized that he had no idea where he was. He discovered that more than sleep kept him immobile. With his limited strength, he struggled against for cuffs that secured his wrists and angles. He would have shouted for help were it not for the gag in his mouth. He would have looked about except that something opaque covered his eyes.

He tried to cast his mind back to grab hold of his last solid memory. He could go no further than standing at a urinal in his company's bathroom. He would not be able to come up with more, for that was the moment when a pair of rough, thick hands held a chloroform-soaked rag to his mouth and nose.

The hands belonged to Charles, who now sat watching the inane struggle of Michael against his bonds. Charles held back a chuckle. The plan had gone perfectly. After Michael fell easily into unconsciousness, it took little effort for Charles to drag the helpless weakling out of the restroom and into the waiting van outside wher Angela waited anxiously.

It would be a few days until he saw Angela again and the two of them took this opportunity to say farewell and celebrate their successful abduction with a heated fuck in the back of Charley's van, right next to the prone body of Angela's husband.

Once he awakened, Michael was moved to a chair. This could have happened earlier but this was a good way to demonstrate Charley's strength as he lifted the now naked Michael. Charley's muscles rippled, though it would be a bit more time before Michael would see the full extent of Charley's physical prowess. The blindfold removed from behind, Michael sat before a television set. The image of Angela filled the screen. She was addressing the camera and, it seemed, looking right into Michael's eyes.

"Hello, Michael," she said icily. Beautiful Angela was not a woman to be trifled with. He knew her tone but couldn't fathom what might have made her angry. She was so angry that she appeared to be shaking. Her head was moving up and down almost imperceptibly.

"I found your magazines. You know the ones," she continued. "I should have known, and I think I did, really. I think, deep dow, that I knew you weren't a real man. Just a sissy trying to be a man. That's probably why I had to find a real man... Meet Charley," she said as the camera zoomed out.

Angela hadn't been shaking with anger. Rather, she had been slowly riding Charley's cock while she spoke. He was under her and she nwo moved farther up and down the large man's cock. His face was visible and he smiled before his eyes rolled back in his head the from the pleasure Angela provided him.

"Charley is standing behind you right now. We talked it over and decided that I'll stay married to you, Michael, but there will be changes. Charley is going to be the new man of the house since you're simply not a man. I will now only please Charley, or anyone he wishes me to please. And you, my dear, will have the same role."

"You're going to spend some time with Charley and his friends until he's satisfied that you'll be able to follow directions. I'll check in with him from time to time to make sure you're being a good girl. Don't worry about work, dear. I talked to your boss and he's fully abreast of the situation. Your job will be waiting, though your duties will include a bit more. You'll figure out exactly what I mean once Charley has you admitting to yourself just how much you crave cock. By the end of the week, you won't know how you lived without it."

Michael continued to watch his wife ride Charley until they came to a screaming conclusion. The video continued as Angela got off of Charley and licked his cock clean. While she sucked his now-limp (but significantly larger) cock, another man came out from behind the camera and positioned himself behind her. Charley could be heard saying, "Go ahead, Kevin, fuck her ass."

Angela yelped as Kevin drove his cock into a location that Angela had never let her husband enter, no matter how much he begged.

The tape kept going as Michael watched helplessly, seeing Kevin deposit his load in Angela's shapely bottom. The picture faded to black after zooming in on a final close-up of Angela's mouth wrapped around Charley's revitalized tool.

Michael was startled when a voice came from behind him (despite Angela's warning). "You're going to be sucking me just like that before tonight is over. Are you ready for your first lesson?"

Michael shook his head but was in no position to protest. His chair was turned around and he faced Charley in the flesh. The large man was clad in a work shirt and boots with his erect cock sticking out of his jeans. He unsnapped the leather band that kept Michael's gag in. When he removed the gag, Michael was amazed by its girth and shape -- it was a side, short, dildo, now dripping with Michael's slobber.

"Looks like you're sucking cock already. Angie thought that'd be a good way to start you out." Charley smirked and ran his thumb over Michael's lips. "That mouth is going to look so good around my cock. But first, I think you should feel what a real cock is like."

Charley pulled Michael's right wrist strap until his hand brushed Charley's cock. "You know you want to touch my cock, you fucking sissy. Angie showed me your magazine collection. All those stories about guys sucking each other. Well, I'll never suck you off but you'll do it for me. You're gonna take my load down your throat and up your ass. I can tell just by looking at you that this is turning you on."

Shamefaced, Michael realized that Charley was right. His cock was hard. How could he be aroused by this crude behemoth? How could finding out that his wife was putting out for Charley and his friends be a turn on? Or did Charley really know something? Without even realizing it, Michael had grasped Charley's hard cock and was rhythmically stroking it.

"How many cocks have you stroked, bitch?" Charley asked.

Without taking his eyes off of Charley's meat in his hands he replied, "Two. Mine and yours."

"Make that one bitch. You don't have a cock," Charley corrected, "just a defored clitoris. You're practically a girl with that bump between your legs and I'm going to treat you that way. You're going to that thing as a clit and that hole as your pussy. Are we clear?"

"Yes."

"That's 'Yes, Sir,' faggot. You'll only refer to me as 'Sir,' 'Daddy,' or 'Master.' Are we clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl. You're doing fine with your first cock, honey. You stroke it very well."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Do you want to taste it?" Charley asked. Fear gripped Michael. He was suddenly torn. If he said the first thing that came into his head it would have been, "Yes, yes, oh god yes" but this reaction shocked him. He didn't want that cock anywhere near him, especially his mouth, but doing so would have fulfilled countless fantasies that Michael wouldn't admit to. How many times had he stroked his... clitty... and thought about how it'd feel to have a man pumping his cock in and out of his mouth? He couldn't admit it. He shook his head silently, no.

SMACK Michael felt Charley's open palm against his face, leaving a stinging hot mark. "Don't fucking lie to me, bitch." SMACK Another blow fell on the other cheek. Tear ran from Michael's eyes yet, inexplicably, his hand remained on Charley's member, still stroking.

"I'm going to ask you again. This time I want the truth. Do you want to suck my cock?"

Michael couldn't look into Charley's eyes. He could only stare at the cock -- now at mouth level. He licked his lips and nodded assent.

"Say it," Charley commanded.

He gulped and, in a quiet voice, admitted to Charley and himself, "I want to suck your cock."

"Louder, bitch. Make me believe it."

"I... I want to suck your cock."

"Who are you talking to?"

"Sir... I want to suck your cock, Sir."

"I don't care what you want, bitch. So you're going to have to beg me."

"Sir, may I suck your cock?"

"No. I simply don't believe you. I don't believe you really want to."

Without thinking, Michael blurted out, "Oh, but I do, Sir, Please. Please let me suck it!"

Smiling, victorious, Charley continued, "Why should I?"

The answer bubbled up deep from within Michael's psyche, "I should hope to please you, Sir, to take your load, to give you pleasure." It was almost as if Michael were outside of himself, not believing that that these words and sentiments were genuinely his. Or was he simply still to scared to admit it?

"Who do you belong to?" Charley asked.

"You, Sir."

"Whose cock do you serve?"

"Yours, Sir.

"What will you do for me?"

"Anything, Sir."

"Anything?"

"Yes, Sir, anything." It was all true.

"Now, sissy, tell me what you want."

"To please you, Sir."

"Did you get that?"

This last question confused Michael, especially as it didn't seem to be directed at him.

A door to the right of them opened. "Got it!" came a voice, followed by the person who owned it. It was Kevin, video camera in hand.

"Good," said Charley and the two high-fived. "Sissy, you'll remember Kevin from the video earlier."

"Your wife has a great ass," Kevin confided. "I love fucking her, and so does my girlfriend, Melanie." Turning back to the door Kevin shouted, "Melanie, come on out and meet Michael!"

Stepping from the shadowy confines of Kevin's studio, Melanie said, "Shouldn't 'She' have a better name than 'sissy,' 'faggot,' or 'Michael?' I mean, if you want me to turn her into more of a girl, she should have a girl name." Melanie sashayed in, her long legs exposed under her cut-off jeans and the light catching on the diamond in her belly button.

Melanie stalked around Michael and Charley; Michael's hand still stroking the hard dick of his master.

"Hmmm... 'Michelle' is too obvious. I think something more girlie would help take away the rest of her tiny amount of masculinity." Eying some take-out garbage in the trash, Melanie exclaimed, "I've got it!"

Taking out her lipstick, Melanie stood between Michael and the two men. She turned and stepped away, revealing Michael's new name, written gin scarlet across his forehead. "Boys, meet 'Wendy.'"

"Hello, Wendy," the two men said in unison.

Unsure, Michael/Wendy stammered, "Hello."

Now, where were we?" Kevin asked, framing up his next shot via his camera's viewfinder.

"We were about to see Wendy suck her first cock," said Charley.

"And now she knows she's got an audience," laughed Melanie, who pulled up a chair next to Wendy as to not miss a stroke. "I've never seen someone's first time, except, I guess, when I watched Angela go down on a girl... but I did a bit more than just watch," she giggled.

"Guide me in, Wendy. Take your first lick."

Still fearful of his own desires, Michael/Wendy licked Charley's cock with trepidation. He felt the silky skin and tasted the acrid salty taste of Charley's precum.

"Keep licking, girl, lick it like a lollipop," Kevin encouraged behind the lens.

Playing a bit to his audience, Wendy gave Charley an over-stylized long lick, her tongue swirling around the bulbous head of Charley's cock. Melanie nearly broke out in applause at the sight of Wendy relishing her new role.

Moaning, Charley encouraged her, "Suck it you bitch, suck it. You were born to suck cock, girl, and you know it now. Embrace it. Take it. This is your birthday present."

Taking Charley into his mouth, Melanie whispered into Wendy's ear, "We're hear to raise you, to train you to be the sissy you were meant to be. I'm going to teach you how to dress and be a lady. Charley's going to teach you how to please a man. Kevin's going to document everything and probably take a few turns at your mouth and pussy, too."

To Be Continued

Open-Minded Wet Nurse

The local free magazine hosts a wide variety of interesting personal ads. The one that caught my eye a few weeks back started with the line, "Open-Minded Wet Nurse."

A woman was renting out her lactation ability. A visit to the URL provided, along with a few phone calls, shed some more light on the offer. The woman, Mistress Sue, also provides a wide array of other fetish fulfillment but her "hook" is her continued lactation.

Having never tasted breast milk, I was incredibly curious. Moreover, I had some great conversations with Mistress Sue. Though she's a professional Dominatrix, she didn't put on the typical airs that so many unprofessional professionals tend to do. No "bow, yield, kneel!" from the word go. Instead, we talked like two rational human beings, discussing our likes, dislikes, and curiosities.

---

When we met, Mistress Sue wore a lovely red outfit of lace. A bustier, thigh high stockings, garters, and panties. She welcomed me with a hug and a whisper in my ear, "There's Mommy's little slut."

My knees melted a bit at her words while other parts of me stiffened significantly. She helped me out of my clothes and into a pair of pink panties. "Oh, she's such a cute little girl," she cooed, rubbing her long fingernails over the silky drawers.

Mommy laid me down on a king-sized bed. The room was darkened, lit only by candles. I could smell the soft scene of her skin, feeling the warmth of her fingers as she pulled my testicles out from the panties and attached a set of electrodes. She sat next to me, her fingers toying with my nipples, sending ripples of desire through me along with a slow, low current of energy that built. She kept her eyes locked to mine, breathing in time with me as I began to feel the prick of electricity build to what felt like a steady thump against the underside of my cock, as if it were a metronome.

The way she looked down at me, it felt like she was the only person in the world. She filled my field of vision. She lowered the intensity of the electricity before lifting one of her breasts out of her bustier.

"Is my baby hungry?" she asked. I nodded, unable to speak, so excited by the idea of what might occur next.

She lowered her breast to above my mouth and, squeezing on either side, sprayed a thin stream of warm, sweet milk onto my waiting tongue. It was wonderful. I felt it run down my tongue and I savored the taste all along its path. She sprayed again and then put her nipple into my mouth. I sucked and suckled, trying to find the way to get her milk from her breast. I worked her breast as best I could until I finally found a way to get the milk out with the pressure of my mouth.

Mommy began satisfying my thirst, my hunger, my lust, with her delicious breast milk. I could feel it dripping down my tongue and I swallowed. She took the breast away and I nearly cried like an infant until she replaced it with her other breast. She switched off several more times, allowing me to suckle at her teats for a good long while.

I won't say that I was satisfied when she took her breast away for the last time because I don't think that I could ever be sated from that. I wanted to do it all night long. But, she had different things in mind.

She put a pacifier in my mouth before moving to the foot of the bed. I stared up at the ceiling as she busied herself. She tugged down my panties before she lifted up my legs. She told me to hold them up and I complied. Cool wetness fell over my exposed bunghole, followed soon by a gloved finger.

I moaned around the pacified as she entered into me with one finger and then two. I looked down to see her smiling as she manipulated my opening. She pushed my legs higher and replaced her fingers with the head of a strap-on dildo.

"Mommy's baby needs to be fucked," she taunted before pushing into me. She fucked me deeply, moving up close and resting her body on my erection. As she moved in and out of me, the friction from her flesh on my cock was wonderful. It felt like I was being fucked from behind and stroked from the front.

She looked down at me, fucking me, on top of me, and told me, "I want my little slut to make a mess on Mommy's belly." With those words and the pressure/pleasure below, I was over the edge. With each pump of me, she was pumping cum out of my cock and onto her flesh. "Oh, you're making Mommy all sticky," she moaned, feeling the warm wetness between us.

She spread the wetness of my cum over her now-bare breasts and stomach, her cock still inside of me. She slowly slid out before removing the condom on the rubber cock and moving up next to me. She removed the pacifier from my mouth and replaced it with the dildo, allowing me to suck on it while she stroked my hair. When she was satisfied with that, she took the cock out of my mouth and allowed me to feed a little more on the milk from her breasts. As I suckled, she hummed quietly, making me feel completely safe, comfortable, and at ease.

Martian Girl

Yet another photo.