“Wh- but, I just heard her grandfather died! I was offering condolence.”
“Oh, um, my bad… But! my ex’s grandmother died (at some point) and he needs some cheering up. There’s really only one good way to cheer a guy up, y’know.”
“I guess…”
“Good! So you won’t mind if I follow through on giving him that blowjob I promised. It would be wrong to jerk him around in his time of grief, just because of a misunderstanding on my part.”
“I-”
“K, bye!”
[Previous]
Honey! Is dinner ready so soon?
No? Why am I naked? Oh, that. Yes, I know I said I was going to wear that sexy new bikini you got me. And I totally did! It fit, great, babe! And it looked amazing, right Simon?
See, your little brother agrees. Aww, I’m sorry you didn’t get to see me in it. Another time. When you aren’t being so offensively jealous and controlling, not to mention sexist. Yes, I told your kid brother all about how you didn’t want me sharing pictures of my own body. And how unfair I thought it was that he got to be topless all the time, even in public, while I have to cover my nipples and areolas with these little triangles of fabric as some sort of ritual sacrifice to the gods of modesty. Well Simon totally backed me up. But in fact he thought it was also unfair that I got to see his pecs all the time while I hide mine from him. And honey, you know how much I admire your little brother’s physique, so I couldn’t really say he was wrong, mmmm.
Hmm? Oh yes, sorry, I was just appreciating his pecs again. So I took my top off to make us even. Baby, don’t be like that. The micro swim top barely covered anything anyway. See, Simon agrees.
Well but in the interest of fairness I had to point out that even his speedo briefs covered way more than my thong bottoms. So I gave him a wedgie! And slapped his ass. I admit that was a bit too far. I’m sorry. So I let him spank me in repentance. But he spanked me really hard! Several times. You so did, Simon! I screamed so loud I bet even my husband heard. See?
Well, I was angry and we horsed around a bit. In a fit of rage, I pulled down his swimsuit. I wasn’t thinking! And then I got really distracted. But you can’t really blame him for being so hard after all the commotion. It’s a natural response. And you can’t really blame me for being so transfixed. I couldn’t believe it was so big! So I just nodded when he said it was only fair that I let him pull down my bottoms. It’s true enough. And so here we are, naked. But I am his big sister (in law) and he is my kid brother (in law) so it’s not a big deal. Brothers and sisters shouldn’t have to have shame or secrets between them. Just calm down. I told you jealousy is not a good look. And it’s a bad example to set for your brother.
The straw in my pussy? Oh, um, I mean, in fairness…yes, I have an explanation! It’s just, I saw his cock and he hasn’t seen yours since you were kids. He was just curious how he was growing. And they say you need to encourage young men, so I was just…giving a visual example…of what it looks like when you and I fuck…
My little brother asked to see her new piercing
“Did it have to be that…revealing?! It’s just your belly button.”
Well you can’t really appreciate it without context. If I sent a close-up, it could be anyone’s navel piercing. I’m sure he’s seen one before. He wanted to see my piercing, not just a piercing.
“I guess, but, I mean, your boobs were even hanging out!”
Don’t be so jealous. It’s not a good look. Besides, if I show cleavage people see way more of the tops of my boobs. Your younger brother has witnessed that tons of times. The bottoms of my breasts are not more sacred just because they see less sunlight.
“I’m not sure I agr-”
Plus it’s a sexist double standard! I see your little brother flaunting his whole, muscular chest any time he comes by to use the pool. It’s not any less hot, trust me. But society says one is okay and one is not!
“I’m sorry! I don’t mean to be sexist. I just- like, why pull down your pants?”
To show the line of my hip, duh! I want a picture of how this piercing looks on my body. God, you are so dense. Oh! He wants to come over for dinner and to use the pool. I’m going to change into that new bikini you got me. Yes, the sexy one that’s way more revealing than that photo I sent. Yes, I know you meant it to be worn in private. But I need to break you of this jealousy streak. If you’re like this with your young brother imagine what you’ll be like in front of age-appropriate men? Now go and start making us dinner, okay?
[Next]
You’ve accepted it, now show your friends what it means to be a woman
I had always been really disgusted with girls who let their boyfriends walk all over them.
“Men are trash! Girls deserve better. Don’t let any man tell you what to do or wear, ever!”
I was berating my friend Rina after she told me her boyfriend didn’t want her going out in her sexy zero-suit Samus outfit. She acted sheepish but also very annoyed.
“Not all of us can be stone-cold ice queens, Ali! And I know it seems dumb to you, but it can be nice to have a guy who cares enough to be protective of you. I don’t always like it, but usually when he tells me what to do, I just feel warm, knowing he loves me. And it can be a relief to not always have to fight…to not always have to think.”
“Not think!?” I was furious. “You better think or men will enslave you and call it kindness.”
Weeks later, I was in a sexy dress, waiting for a blind date Rina had set up. I know, I know. But she hadn’t spoken to me for a long time and had practically begged me to go out with this guy, Rahm. She said he was exactly what I needed. I had been lonely…not to mention sex starved. I agreed. Rina got the biggest grin on her face – almost maniacal, really – and hugged me. So here I was, wearing the skimpy halter dress she had foisted on me. It slit open at the center of my chest so I couldn’t even wear a bra! I’d tried to refuse but she’d already told him I’d be wearing it so he could recognize me. Bluh. I wanted to run away from the restaurant. This was dumb. Besides, he was 10 minutes late! What a jerk!
Five more minutes later…
“Ali. You waited. Good.”
Really? Not even an apology?! Rahm was cute, at least. Nice clothes, too. No fashion-challenged slob here, unlike most men. I decided to give him one more chance.
When the waitress came back Rahm ordered first. Steak, rare. Then he ordered salmon and salad for me. LOL. What kind of moron alpha male trick was this?
“Thanks, but I’ll take the swiss burger with fries, actually.”
He gave the waitress a meaningful look She scurried away. Weird. But we chatted for a while and it was pleasant. He didn’t ask me much about myself but at least he was an interesting guy. Intelligent, too. I was a little impressed.
The room was so cold, though. I wondered how obvious my erect nipple were under the thin fabric of Rina’s dress. This thought sent a thrill through my body that did nothing to help the situation.
Then our food came. Steak…and salmon.
“This isn’t what I ordered!”
“Oh, um, but the gentleman. I mean, should I-”
“It’s fine, darling. Don’t fret your pretty little head. We don’t want to waste this good food. Isn’t that right, Ali?”
I couldn’t really argue with that. I hated it but he made sense; I despised all the food waste in the US. “Yes, I’m sorry, it looks very good.” The nervous waitress left us alone.
“No need to distress the help, Ali. Besides, you’ll like the salmon. I wouldn’t have ordered it for you if it wasn’t good.”
I guess that made sense, too. I never ate fish and assumed I didn’t like it, but shouldn’t I at least give it a chance? How did Rahm keep saying and doing so many things I disapproved of while I just kept conceding? My brain felt…fogged, around him, warm. I started eating the salmon. It was…actually really good. And I felt so much better and more energized eating a side salad instead of a ton of fries, which always left me feeling heavy and sluggish. I hated to admit it, but-
“Thank you for making me try this. I never would have given it a chance if you hadn’t been so forceful.”
“Of course. I find a forceful hand is best when guiding errant girls.”
“Ha!” I laughed aloud. Why did I feel so good? Why did I find Rahm so funny? Sure, he was smart and attractive and charming, but wasn’t something off?
I never open my legs for a guy on the first date! I told Rahm that as I stood in his bedroom, passively letting him turn me around, untie the strap of my dress, pull the fabric down, expose my breasts…
“I would never dream of asking you to compromise your principles. Ali. But I do need to get that dress back. Rina made me swear to reclaim it as soon as possible. She’d be very cross if I failed to do so.”
“But!” I gasped as Rahm slid the dress down my legs, leaving me in just black lace panties and heels. I didn’t even try to cover myself with my arms. It seemed wrong to hide what this man had uncovered. “W-what will I wear home?”
“Rina is coming for the dress in the morning. I’ll ask her to bring you a change of clothes, too. Do you mind waiting?”
“N-no, I guess that’s fine.” I stuttered, looking down and away. What else could I do, get in an Uber naked? Not that the thought wasn’t a little thrilling… What the hell was my deal tonight?! Also, I, found myself not wanting to leave Rahm’s apartment at all…
“Good. Now get down on your knees. You can keep your legs together, don’t worry. You need to learn how to give me a blow job before I consider fucking you, anyway. Got it?”
“Yes.” I replied, lowering to my knees instinctively.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes…sir.”
“Good girl.”
The next morning Rahm made me answer the door when Rina knocked. I still had my panties on, but that was it besides my mussed hair and the dried cum on my face (and on my chest, I suddenly remembered with a twinge). I was mortified but I also found I couldn’t disobey this man. Rina smirked evilly while handing me the change of clothes and taking her dress back.
“Well, well, not the high and mighty ice queen anymore, are we? I set you up on one date with the most dominant, misogynistic man I knew and here you are just hours later.” She reached out her right hand and caressed my cheek. Feeling the crusted cum, she retracted her fingers and sniffed them, smiling. “I see Rahm was able to train you just as he said he would. I must admit I wasn’t sure even he could make you bow so quickly. You know they call him the Feminist Breaker? Quite a track record. I shouldn’t have doubted he’d draw out the submissive slut in you.” Rina rested her fingers on my cheek again and slid them down my neck, to my chest, over the curve of a breast and finally pausing to casually play with my hardening nipple. “Welcome to the club. Now I must get back to my man. He has no idea the sort of ‘help’ you needed. I think you should probably go and attend to your man as well, don’t you?” I nodded, dumbly. “Good girl.”
I saw Rahm often over the next several months. After a few weeks of blow jobs and hand jobs, he even let me open my legs for him. After I begged him for it, that is.
He also told me if I was good I could eventually help him train other girls to be his fuck toys. I liked that idea a lot. I was so much happier after learning my place: beneath dominant men. I wanted to share my revelation.
So imagine my joy when he told me I’d get to help him break my old friend Rina and defile her until her jealous boyfriend didn’t want her anymore?
see part one
It had been a year since the Halloween party where your brutish coworker had dressed as Boba Fett and preyed on your girlfriend’s intense dedication to staying in cosplay character. He convinced Slave Leia that her terrorist actions against a sovereign ruler of the former Republic, Jaba the Hutt, could sink the rebellion’s credibility. If the rebels took out sovereign rulers over personal vendettas, could they really be trusted as the torch bearers of democracy? So your girlfriend had agreed to go off with your bully, to an empty bedroom, and begin “proper slave training.” Beaten down by your coworker and told by your girl that, as Han Solo, you were too weak and blind from carbonite hibernation sickness to save her, you sat in the living room, miserable and anxious. You wondered what they were doing and drank yourself into unconsciousness. In the morning your girlfriend woke you up and made you drive her home.
Since then, you had both mostly pretended it didn’t happen. The one talk had been brief. “I’m sorry I got carried away, baby! You know how I am about staying in character! Besides, he just like made me dance and follow commands. Mostly getting him drinks. Being his footstool while he watched TV was the worst of it.” “Um, what kind of dances?” “Nothing! Just like cage dancer stuff. I didn’t strip! I mean, I did sorta give him a lap-dance…But! I told him he had to follow club rules: no touching the girls; they touch you, not vice versa.” You weren’t quite sure that was better but chose to be willfully ignorant and to believe in your girlfriend as hard as you could. You adored her and thinking on your doubts hurt.
She began going to more conventions than ever before. She’d always put a lot of effort into her characters and costumes, engaging in various LARPs and narrative improvs. Usually as a badass female warrior from fantasy or scifi. Nothing too femme or revealing. Yet now all of her costumes were skimpy and she seemed to have singled out every fictional slave girl character, from Star Trek to Mad Max to Elder Scrolls to Gor. You used to go with her when work permitted but now you couldn’t bear it, making weak excuses. She didn’t push you hard to change your mind.
You coworker, “Boba,” wasn’t nearly as reticent about the subject of the party. The next work day after that fateful Halloween party he had come right up to your desk and thanked you for telling him all about your girlfriend’s hot costume idea. “Without you I never would have tried this silly LARP stuff you nerds are always going on about. It was dumb but I can’t say it wasn’t fun. Your girlfriend was really dedicated to her part. Got down on her knees like a real slave and went to work, you know? And it wouldn’t have been possible without your cowardly, weakened Solo. Props, man!” Your only advantage over your bully coworker had been the girlfriend he lusted after and couldn’t have. Then you’d foolishly bragged and gave him the last advantage. You felt so dispirited that when he asked to have you reassigned under him, you didn’t argue. Occasionally he sent you home with a gift “for the Missus.” A few were the new slave costumes she’d go on to wear. All contained long notes she didn’t let you see. Sometimes your new boss was out on work trips the same weekends your girlfriend was at conventions. Weird coincidences, surely.
Friends tried to get you to break up with your girlfriend but you wouldn’t hear them. Nothing was wrong. Eventually your bestie couldn’t take it anymore and made you sit down and click through a gallery he’d compiled. It had posts and photos from various convention message boards. At first you just saw your girlfriend in her barely-there slave outfits. You’d seen that. Maybe not while being hugged so tight by other cosplayers and sweaty nerds, but whatever. She was good at what she did. Screenshots of her posts showed her building up her characters and looking for “slave trainers” and “slave owners” to play with. That made sense, too, really. You couldn’t be a slave by yourself. Cryptic references to how “Master” wanted her trained properly were just artistic flourishes, probably. More photos now showed her holding a sign saying “Train Me! Will work 4 orders.” And other cosplayers holding her leash while she leaned against them devotedly or kneeled at their feet. Some of the men looked a bit like your boss but they wore masks. Those made you feel weird. Surely it was paranoia, though, right? Another photo showed her beaming as various men and women wrote on her exposed skin in sharpie. Clicking through you saw “grope me” on her lower back, “cosplay = consent” on her stomach and “dumb slave” on her forehead. She looked so happy.
“You know, I get that it seems bad. I appreciate that you care, I do, but I love and trust my girlfriend. It’s just roleplay. Fantasy isn’t cheating.”
Your bestie left in disgust. You got a buzz on your phone. Bully boss wanted you to work late again, on Halloween. You sighed and texted your girlfriend that you’d have to be very late to the party. She said it was okay. Such a sweetie.
When 5PM rolled around on the 31st and Slave Leia showed in your office, you were confused but delighted. “Hey there Baby! I told you I have to work late. I’m so glad to see you, though! Wait…weren’t we going as
Hephaestus and Venus?” Your girlfriend bit her lip nervously and looked down. “Well, I mean, you couldn’t make it until who knows when…and I got a different offer…and you know I love having someone to LARP with, right?”
That’s when your boss emerged from his office, dressed as Boba Fett again, helmet in hand. “Slave! Do not speak to the riffraff unless I say you can.” “I’m so sorry, Master Fett! It won’t happen again! I’ve been training so hard to be a good slave. Please don’t tell Jabba!” He grabbed her chain leash, jerking it hard. “Hmph, we will see how trained you are. Though I do hope you have some Princess left in you for me to break.” She cooed. “And you, minion! Check that work in triplicate. Make a single mistake and there’ll be hell to pay. You may come watch me in action once you are done. Understood? Good. Now slave, show me your pleasure that I deign to be seen with you.” Your girlfriend went on tiptoe and you watched in horror as she kissed your bully deeply, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning her nearly naked body fully against his.
It was such a hot plan. you’d been gunning for your friend’s wife for so long. When he suggested a wife swap for a night, you jumped on it immediately. Sadly his wife didn’t do the same when you got back to her bedroom. She looked skeptical. By the time she got it fully erect, she started laughing. It really hurt when she pulled out her phone. Was she going to take shame pictures? This was a nightmare. Wait, no, it was a nightmare when you realized she had facetimed your wife, who was in the middle of sucking off your best friend, in your marital bed. She picked up without letting his, apparently huge, cock out of her mouth.
“Bitch! I got screwed on this deal! And not in a good way.”
Your wife took a break, jerking him in one hand. “Sorry, baby, but you see what I have to deal with there. I couldn’t let this offer pass me by after the stories you told. But, like, why don’t you just come over? I doubt your husband would mind a second, would you?”
Off to the side: “Hell no!”
“Mmm, that’s more like it. But what do we do with small wonder over here?”
“Leave him. But keep the connection open. I want him to watch.”
“Naughty! Okay, cuck, don’t cum on my phone. If you do, you never get to watch again. Got it?”
You may be getting married cunt, but that only means that you’ll get to serve two superiors! I’ll still drop by to check on you quite often… Now, give daddy a blow
Sara couldn’t quite tell why she was so nervous, really. But the thought of her father walking her down that aisle and giving her away made her so terrified. Was it just existential dread of an unknown future, she wondered? No, that wasn’t it. Was it the idea of a man giving her like property to another man that she found untenable? No, Sara realized with a guilty shudder, that concept still gave her a naughty thrill. So what was wrong!?
*knock* *knock*
“Come in! … Oh, Dad!”
“Baby, you look all afluster. Did my little doll get her head turned around again thinking too many thoughts at once? Tell me what’s wrong.”
God, she hated the way her father babied her! She had a Masters in Engineering! She wasn’t a doll! Yet…whenever her father talked down to her, she found her brain practically melted. She always ended up with her head in Daddy’s lap as he petted her hair and told her what to do. It was so…comforting.
Sara squirmed. “D-daddy. I- I’m scared. Of just walking down the aisle with you. But…I don’t know why.”
She found it hard to be coherent around him. Later she’d be resentful and think all the things she wanted tell her father. Tell him off, sometimes.
“Shh, baby girl, don’t strain yourself. It’s natural for a girl to feel attached to her father and fear abandonment. But I’m not really ‘giving you away.’ I’ll always be your Daddy.”
He hugged her and held her in embrace. It felt warm.
“Thanks. It’s nice to hear. I knew that, I guess. But something still feels weird. I feel like in closing this chapter I’m leaving something undone. Something I can’t ever get back. It feels…not like you’re abandoning me, but like I’m betraying you. I’m sorry, it doesn’t make sense.”
She blushed, feeling like a silly girl. She both loved and hated Daddy so much. He made her feel like such a dimwit.
“Doll, of course it makes sense. No, don’t try to guess why. Just listen. Relax that tired girl brain. Doesn’t that feel nice? Now, you feel that way because in consummating your relationship with your husband you fear that you are sexually betraying your first man, your father.”
“Oh. That does- feel right, actually. Psychology is so weird. I’m glad you studied it and not me, Daddy.”
Sara went on tiptoe and gave her father a chaste kiss on the lips.
“Brains are complicated. Your machines are dumb little bimbo girls by comparison.”
“Ha! I’ll have to tell that to my lab manager, Mindy. She’ll be pissed. You are so smart and funny, Daddy. Thank you.” Later Sara would also be fuming about this line. But somehow in the moment she always found Daddy so charming and right. Then she’d repeat his outrageous claims to others with anger and a shame that burned between her legs.
By now he was rubbing her scalp, fingers running through his daughter’s long blonde hair. She’d hated bleaching it, but somehow her Daddy always managed to convince her. Just like the boob job…even her fiance had objected, but Sara still found herself at the appointment with Daddy holding her hand and waiting for the plastic surgeon to ‘improve’ her. Just as then, her brain was out of focus, malleable to Daddy’s words and his touch.
She was relaxed and not jittery now, but she couldn’t think straight either.
“Doll, this is all natural. You feel guilty because you never consummated with your first man. Never showed Daddy your loyalty and fidelity.”
“Um, uh, yeah. Mmmm, yes, that feels good. Like, umm, Freud, right? Mmmm. E-uh-lektra complex? Ohhhhh, yes! I just, uh, need to, mmm, get over it, right?”
He began rubbing her bare shoulders with strong hands. It felt amazing.
“Shhh, no, silly little girl. Don’t think. You’re too dumb. If you just push your feelings aside you’ll never resolve them. Right?”
“Mmmmmm, oh? Yeah. Of course. Sorry I was stupid, Daddy.”
Fingers were brushing against the top of Sara’s dress and a little under the fabric. She wanted those hands on her breasts, whoever’s they were.
“It’s not your fault, baby. You’re just a bimbo dolly, after all, right?”
“Mmmm, yes? Yes.”
“Tell me what you are.”
“Dolly is a bimbo? A stupid girl?”
“Good. So listen up, silly bimbo. The only way for Daddy’s dolly to get over these feelings of betrayal is to consummate with her Daddy first. Obviously.”
“Oh, right. Um, like, duh.”
“So I’m going to take out doll’s artificial tits. They’re mine anyway, since I bought them.. And my daughter is going to love it.”
Sara loved it. She needed it.
“Yesssss, mmmmm. Touch my tits. Explore what you made and then had remade, Daddy. My whole body is yours but especially my tits. I’m so sorry I didn’t offer them to you sooner. I’ve been such a dumb and bad daughter.”
“Shhh, don’t fret. You are doing the right thing now. Daddy will guide you. Okay, now dolly bimbo is going to get on her knees and suck her father’s cock. She will be grateful that Daddy is agreeing to help her.”
Sara complied immediately. This felt so right even if she couldn’t think to comprehend why.
“Thank you, Daddy. I feel so much better.”
“Of course, baby. Now shut up that cute mouth with your father’s cock. Mmm, that’s a good girl. Now as you suck on me I’ll tell you about how a good girl serves two men: her husband and her Daddy.”
As soon as he came in her mouth, your wife told you, “honey, don’t say that watching him didn’t make you feel dwarfed. You just have to admit it … and offer him our marital bed.”
Why had I ever made such a bet? It was just the heat of the moment. I’d gotten in some silly argument with this stranger at a party. My wife was annoyed but I wouldn’t back down. Eventually it devolved into literally comparing dicks. His was, very big. I told him I didn’t care how big his cock was, no man could make me feel small. Love and sex are about more than size, I told him. My wife had laughed. I glared at her.
“Oh, come on. It’s not everything but you have to admit it helps.”
My pride was besieged from all sides! I refused to concede the point. He said he’d prove it to me. I said nothing could move me and so agreed to any terms he might have. Stupid. He said he’d prove to me that a big cock could make me feel like the smaller man in regards to sex. If he could do that, he said, I’d have to allow him to try to best me at love, too. Deal!
It was then he turned to my wife and asked her to be his assistant with his demonstrations. She was taken aback at first, but soon she got an evil smirk on her face and looked at me. “Any chance to prove this smug bastard wrong.”
I was too proud to back out as I realized what he intended. He guided my wife to a secluded side room away from others at the party. I followed awkwardly, hearing the whispers of my friends and colleagues wondering why this other man was leading my wife by the hand.
“Okay, so your wife is going to service me. If you can watch the whole things and still honestly say you feel like a superior or even equal man, then you win. I will do whatever you wish.”
“Just leave us alone.”
“Deal. But if you do feel a bit…diminished, you have to let me prove that I’m the bigger man in love, too. Cede your marital bed to me for…a month. After that month, we’ll see who she loves more.” Deal.
He instructed her to take off his clothes. My wife complied with gusto. He laid down and ordered her to start playing with his massive cock. She gasped as she got her hands around it. She continued making approving sounds as she worked it to full erection. “Oh my god, babe! I can barely fit my fingers around it! And it’s so long! You must feel so small already. Your cock is nothing like this. It’s a whole different breed!”
I felt sick. “Just finish it.”
“Mmmm, but not with your hands, with your mouth.”
My wife bit her lip. She was pretty good at blowjobs. Even so as she worked it in her mouth she could only fit it halfway in. Fuck.
As soon as he came in her mouth, my wife told me, “honey, don’t say that watching him didn’t make you feel dwarfed. You just have to admit it … and offer him our marital bed.”
I was working in an office during summer break from college. It was sort of an internship, but I actually got paid. It was a lot of fun and felt like some good job experience. I was basically a secretary but I got to manage a few people too and they were talking about a real job after I graduated. So I wasn’t worried when my boss called me into his office, until I saw the dour look on his face.
“Please close the door. This is a little sensitive. No, don’t sit.”
I stood awkwardly in front of my older boss as he looked me up and down in my black skinny jeans, black silk dress shirt, plugs and bleached hair. My boss was a bit of a silver fox. His attention made me shiver.
“You know how we monitor the internet traffic of our employees.”
“Wha-…N-no, sir.” I stumbled over my words, blushing.
“It’s in the handbook you agreed to be bound by when you started. You really should read it. There’s lots of…liberties we can take.”
“Oh?”
“Yes…well, more to the point, IT sent word you’d been spending more and more time going to non-work sites. No worries, they don’t see the specifics. It all gets flagged by the system and obfuscated, but I was sent the list to review. Standard practice. I expected Facebook, Twitter, porn. Unimportant stuff we don’t care about. But it seems you’ve been spending hours each day browsing transgender sites. MTF, specifically. Instructional, supportive, some…lewd.”
“I’m so terribly sorry, sir! It won’t happen again! I was still getting my work done, I swear! It was for a friend!”
“Hush, hush. No, no, quiet your hysterics. I’m not firing you. You’ve made me realize that our health insurance doesn’t cover gender transition, or whatever you call it. I’m in talks with HR to get that fixed. Would you like that?”
“Ummm, yes sir, but I’m a temp employee. I don’t get benefits. And I’ll be back in school soon.”
“Yes, about that. Well, what’s more important, being a girl or being a college graduate?”
He had me there. I was quivering. From anticipation, fear, confusion, eroticism. “A g-girl, sir?”
“Good! Glad to hear. No one cares if an airhead secretary finished college. So how about you drop out and come be my assistant full time? Then you can start taking hormones immediately. Don’t even bother to officially drop, actually. Failing out of college will get you so much more in the proper mindset for your new life.” I just nodded, dumbstruck. Some part of my mind screamed at the degradation and sexism, but my libido had teamed up with my gender euphoria and was firmly in control.
“You know I like you, right?” my boss continued. “How much I’ve come to depend on you? It would be cruel to leave me now. I know we were grooming you for ‘better’ things but I think you’ll agree that the real best thing for a dumb bimbo like you isn’t to be a manager but rather my secretary”
I nodded, mouth slightly agape, drooling.
“I’m so glad you understand! I normally like cute young girls as my secretaries. When I got you I was initially disappointed. And then worried at how much I…enjoyed having you serve me. It didn’t help what a pretty thing you were. I felt very confused since I don’t like guys. Plus, the other upper managers teased me, y’know? ‘Roy, how’s that assistant treating you? Is it true men are better at giving head?’“
“I’m, uh, sorry, sir. I should have, um, told you sooner?”
“Yes, you should have. Trust your boss. I can’t help if I don’t know the truth. Well, the important thing is I know you’re a girl now and I can rest easy. I don’t have to feel weird about wanting to plow you. Uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to sexually harass you.”
“Oh, um, no offense taken. It’s…a little flattering.”
“Just like a girl! You know how many girl secretaries I’ve had that eagerly jumped on my cock?”
“No?”
“Me neither! A dozen? Most of them, in any case. By the end. Girls like powerful, older men. They like being put in their place. Do you?”
God, how did he have me so spot-on? I was just about to cream my panties.
“…yes, sir.”
“See, you’re such a good girl! Who could argue with that? Idiots.”
Tears were forming in my eyes. “*sniff* thank you, sir.”
“What should I call you? Do you have a new name picked out?”
I nodded and spoke meekly, “K-Kendra, sir.”
“Kendra! Lovely name. I’ll get HR on that. Now, Kendra, you’ll get more hours and the chance for overtime, but you’ll make less per hour, of course.”
“Wh-what? But why?”
“Silly girl. Women make less than men. You want to be a woman, right?”
I nodded, dazed.
“Good! Plus it will offset the cost of adding trans coverage to our health plan. Just think of all the supposed men we could be paying 22% less! Sure, there will be migration in the opposite direction, too, but I think our misogynist culture will keep most of them away. And draw your lot like a moth to the flames”
Fuck! He had my number. I was squirming.
“Well I can see I have you intrigued. Show me that big clitty of yours. Yes…now! Mmm, not bad. Though I suspect no one ever mistook it for a real cock. Not just that it’s a bit small for a cock, but everything about you. It just doesn’t add up that you could be anything but a girl.”
Tears were falling down my face as I stood before my boss with my erect clit out. “yes, sir.”
“Mmmm, now strip for me. You want it, right? Good. Now take off all your clothes. Let me see your slutty girl body. Wow, what a perfect canvas for a new girl to start from. I can’t wait to watch it develop. Okay, now I’m going to suck that clit. You’re not to fuck anyone with your clit, anymore, you understand?”
I nodded.
“Good girl. Now only use this pussy back here. If you decide to shrink that clitty and get another pussy, then you can get fucked there, too. But be a good girl. No topping.”
I whimpered as he sucked me. Eventually I was wracked with an orgasm and he let my juices fall all over my stomach and chest.
“Just rub that in. Yes, use your hands. It’ll dry eventually and then you can get dressed. You’ll smell of sex all day, like a proper slut.”
Then he started fucking my ass (um, pussy?). He rubbed some of my own lubrication in there. I moaned with abandon in his office, wondering who could hear.
“Now about those stock boys you manage. I know you like supervising people, but it just isn’t seemly for a good girl like you to be ordering men around. Even if they are just teenage layabouts. It would damage their morale. But, I’m not a cruel man. And I’ve overhead that they like you; in fact, they want to get you in a dress and bend you over as I am. Clever boys. So I’ll let you still work with them. It’s just that the only commands you can give them will be mine. Any input you have for them will be more of a…suggestion. As men, young and immature though they may be, you are to respect their greater aptitude for logic and critical thinking. If they countermand or question you, thank them for their input. If they try anything…well, understand it’s good for morale. Got it?”
“Y-yes, sir! Fuck! How are you so good at this?”
“Thanks, Kendra. I have decades of experience bringing impressionable young girls to heel. Now, we’ll send out an office-wide email Monday congratulating you on your new position, letting people know about your name and pronouns, and letting everyone know that if they need anything at all that you are here to help anyone in any way you can. Sound good?”
“Fuck! Ahhh. Yes, sir!”
“You might want to apologize to the stock boys for ever putting yourself over them. I’ll set up a meeting, okay?”
“Yes! Mmmmmm.”
“Mind if I cum in you?”
“Please! P-please, sir! Give me your cum!”
“Good girl.”
Your wife Kimi loved
you and only wanted to help. She saw the way you were still traumatized by
memories of your high school bully, even after all these years. To be fair, he
had done some wild shit to you: encouraging you to john the wrestling team just
to torment you daily with brutal take-downs, pantsing you at a pep rally and encouraging
the cheerleaders to mock your small pecker (a couple had improvised a cheer),
getting you drunk and writing “dick slut” on your forehead in sharpie, the
list went on. It affected your confidence…even in bed. She figured if you could
just meet Adan as an adult, the fear would dissipate. Either he’d have matured
and apologize profusely or he’d be some immature man-child and would thus not
be worth fearing.
What your wife didn’t anticipate was that he’d act very
contrite and agree to go home with her to apologize to you ASAP, only to then convince
her to fuck him in your marital bed long before you arrived from work. Though
Adan had enough stamina to fuck her until you came back and found them. From the living room you
heard her moaning and calling out about how much bigger, better and harder he
was.
It was all the “apologetic” stories he’d told her about bullying you that
had done her in. He sounded so ashamed as he detailed hurting and humiliating her husband. Kimi couldn’t understand it, but hearing about you being mistreated drover her libido wild. She asked for more stories, more details. By the time he’d gotten to kicking your ribs in while you
writhed on the locker room floor after a good beating and how he’d then pissed
all over you and left you there with no change of clothes, well, by then her panties were soaked and she was writhing quite
a bit herself. Your old bully noticed and looked Kimi square in the eye, telling her to show him her tits. Entranced, she quickly nodded and pulled her top
down. The rest flowed naturally from there.
You burst into the room with no plan, just pure adrenaline.
“I’m! So! Sorry! Babe!” Your wife cried out to the cadence
of his thrusts.
“Get off of her!”
“Is that what you want, Kimi? You want me to stop fucking
you because your sissy, limp-dicked husband says so?”
Kimi moaned out while Adan insulted you and then looked
sheepishly your way. “No, M-master.” Then she lowered her head and whispered, “I’m
sorry.”
That was pretty much the end of your marriage, as you
watched your high school bully Adan cum unprotected in your wife’s pussy. She whimpered
and told him what a superior fuck he was and how this one afternoon of passion
had been better than years of sex with you. You heard that a lot in the coming
weeks. It seemed he needed a place to stay and Kimi quickly volunteered your
bed. They both got a thrill out of you watching their fuck sessions,
humiliated. To be fair, you were largely humiliated by how hard it got you.
One night your wife asked you to present your hands. She
took your wedding ring and gave it to Adan. He just laughed and pulled hers
off, too, throwing them in the trash. “I own you, bitch, but I don’t need a
ring to prove it.” She melted into his arms.
Adan soon had you running all his errands and serving him
like a maid. A slutty maid. He even got you an outfit to match (on your credit
card). Sometimes he’d call you home for lunch, while Kimi was at work, to suck
him off. He trained you into a good BJ queen. He’d also make you play
fluffer to him in between rounds fucking your wife. Kimi loved that. You all
did.
You slept in the guest room, of course. You didn’t see Kimi
much. Certainly not in a sexual or even romantic context. To your wife you were
basically just Adan’s toy and a live-in maid. Occasionally Adan would come in
late and make you suck him off. It was amazing he could still get hard, let
alone blow such large loads down your throat. After a few months he moved on to
fucking your ass, both late at night and during your special lunches. You hadn’t
been allowed to come for a long time when he suddenly wrapped his fingers around your
cock while fucking you from behind. “That’s a good boy. You have a nice little
dicklet. You like that? Yeah? Come for me. Now.” You came on cue, exactly when he
asked.
One week Kimi had to go out of town on business. Adan fucked
your holes savagely and sent photos to your (supposed) wife. Yet…he also fell
asleep in your new bed, spooning you. That made you feel tingly. You realized
your trauma from Adan’s high school beatings had washed away at some point
during the months he’d spend stealing your wife and domming you. Strange but
true.
Adan started calling on you more often for lunch meet-ups. And he started kissing you. His kisses were sweet and passionate. Whenever Kimi was away for a night he slept with you or called you to the master bed. He told you to stop calling him Master, though. “That’s Kimi’s thing. Just call me Adan. Or Daddy.” He winked.
Seven months after this crazy mess had started, Kimi (still technically your wife), had another business night away. Adan ordered you to meet him at a
fancy restaurant for dinner. Your treat. Getting tipsy on cheap table wine and
giggling at his dumb jokes, you wondered if he liked you too? Surely not. He
just wanted a nice meal and a hole to fuck. That’s when he pulled out a small box
and presented it to you. Your stomach was in free fall. You opened it. It was your
wife’s wedding band. You just looked at him. He opened his palm and revealed
your wedding band before slipping it on his ring finger. He took Kimi’s and
placed it in front of your finger. “Will you?”
Tears in your eyes, you reached across the table and pulled
him by the lapels to your lips. Scattered nosy onlookers cheered, soon joined
by everyone. Sitting back with a big grin, Adan finished putting the ring on
your finger.
ProblemCollectionLove 