Dream Date

Goddamn, she was gorgeous. Dark hair that curled away like that of a '60s go-go dancer just as it touched her pale shoulders. Thick, pink lips that seemed to be permanently kissing the air. A shimmering gold dress that sparkled in the lights from the dance floor and the spotlights above the bar. It hugged her too-good-to-be-true curves like the mountainside hugged a mile of dangerous road.

She walked over when she noticed I was staring at her. I say walked, but it was more a slink, as if she were a cat and I was the mouse she would soon be devouring skin, muscle, and bones.

“You're watching me,” she said, and I made no effort to lie.

I nodded.

“You're thinking about what it would be like to take me home, to have sex with me.” I nodded again.

“You're very forward,” I said, words finally breaking free from the prison of my mouth.

“I'm just very honest,” she corrected me. “Or am I wrong? Are you not wondering about how it would feel to have yourself inside me?”

“Wow,” I said. “Don't know that I've ever been asked that.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Are you or are you not thinking of how our bodies would feel together, the sweet, sweaty, sloppy sounds of lovers serenading us while we give in to pure animal lust?”

“Wow,” I said again. I made a fist with each hand at my side and popped my knuckles. “You're really, really forward. You just put it right out there, don't you?”

She smiled. “My name is Elena.”

“I'm Terrance. Nice to meet you.”

“Well, Terrance, I have a proposition for you now that all that is out of the way.”

I could practically feel my pants tighten at the thought of screwing her. She was the kind of woman I could only dream about, and yet, here she was, basically throwing herself at me.

“Okay.”

She smiled again. “You've got quite the silver tongue, don't you?” I laughed. “Sorry, I'm just not used to this.”

She took a seat beside me on a bar stool, then she reached for my hand. “As it is, you're not really my type, but you seem to want me pretty strongly. And as I've got a stone that makes wishes come true, I'm open to you becoming my dream date if you are.” I cocked my eyebrow at her. “What?”

Her smile flattened. “Maybe I read you wrong after all,” she said.

I grabbed her hand gently. “Oh, no. Trust me. I'm very interested. But I'm just not keeping up with what you're saying. Something about a stone that makes wishes come true.” It was my turn to smile. “Don't get me wrong. I want to play. I just want to know what game we're playing first. That's all.”

“Here,” she said, cupping her hands together between us. In the bowl of her palms there was an egg-shaped, flat stone with a sort of rainbow coloring streaked across its surface. “Take my hands.”

I did as she said. Weird or not, she was fucking gorgeous and I wanted to take her home regardless. It was pretty clear to me that every guy in the club did, judging by the way they were giving me subtle nods through the noise and smoke-machine air of the bar area.

Gripping her hands snugly, I felt the stone between our palms. It was cool and smooth and felt like one of the rocks kids might pick up on a family vacation to the mountains. Just a normal rock polished and painted to sell to an easy mark. Then she let go, leaving the stone in my hand.

“Repeat after me, Terrance. I want to be Elena St. Martin's dream date, her ideal lover.” Okay, I thought. I'll play along if it gets me what I want. So I said it. “I want to be Elena St. Martin's dream date, her ideal lover.”

Elena nodded and opened my fingers, taking back the stone. She smiled again, but more seductively this time, and I blushed.

“Very cute,” she said. “Come home with me.”

I nodded. She took my hand and pulled me from the club to the door. I followed, wanting nothing more than to find a place to be alone with her. She led me to her car, a maroon Lexus, opened the passenger door for me, then closed it when I was inside, and came around to join me inside the plush, leather cockpit of the vehicle.

“It's about an hour to my house. I hope that's okay.”

“Lovely,” I said dreamily. “Not a problem.”

She cranked up the car and the AC hit me like a winter storm. Her hand gripped my thigh. “You're more aggressive than most girls I know,” I said. “And I think I'm learning to like that.”

“Good. I know what I want. And I think you'll be just my type.” “I certainly hope so,” I said.

“Listen, trip is pretty boring, and it's okay if you want to relax before we get home and have to be active again. Besides, the cool air combined with the Baroque piano always helps me rest. Give your eyes a rest if you want. I promise to wake you before anything exciting happens.”

And, just like that, before I knew it, I was dozing off and on, waking every few minutes to take in new scenery whiz by outside the passenger window. She talked about her job, art historian for post-Renaissance paintings. She talked about her love of leather clothing. She talked about eating Vegan.

She talked about why she preferred Rachmaninoff to Bach. Hell, she could have talked about anything and I would have hung on each word. As she spoke she occasionally reached over to touch my leg, and I felt my heart race with each touch.

When the Lexus finally came to a stop and shut off, I opened my eyes again, feeling rested. Something slow and mournful still played on the radio, and she told me who it was, but I didn't recognize the composer.

“He wrote it after his lover died,” Elena said. “It's painful and beautiful all at the same time, like love is supposed to be.”

“It's really pretty,” I said. “I never heard it before.”

“Well,” she said. “It doesn't make the best of collections like 'Air on a G String' or 'Ode to Joy.' I consider it underground classical. It's something I can listen to the way the artsy moderns listen to new progressive music on the Internet.”

“You're kind of amazing. You know that, right?” I said.

“Thank you. You're kind of interesting yourself.”

As I spoke, I noticed by voice was cracking a bit, most like from the cold air in her car. Nothing a little hot sex wouldn't warm up.

Taking a moment to fully view the house, I noticed quickly it was more mansion than mere house. It looked to be three stories high and about seven rooms wide judging by the windows I could see. I realized Elena was completely out of league, and the thought gave me pause. I wondered if I should just have her drive me back to the club instead and call the whole evening off before I did something to show her just how outclassed I was.

“Wow,” I said instead.

“My father's money. He wanted to give me money rather than time, so I accepted it.” “I'm sorry.”

“Love hurts,” she said. “One gets used to it.”

She opened her door and got out. I started to open my own, but she said to wait and “Let me get that for you.” Then she came over to my side and helped me out, taking my hand in her own. Without separating our hands she guided me from her car to the front door. She led me inside and I marveled at the size of the foyer. Twin stairways circled both walls like a scene from a 1930s aristocratic drama. A chandelier worth more than my annual salary hung above me, glistening from the tiny lights all over it.

“Holy shit,” I muttered.

“Holy shit indeed,” she said. “Welcome to my embarrassingly huge home.”

She closed the door behind her, then walked close to me, stopping directly in front of me. We looked eye to eye, and I could have sworn she had been shorter than that, but then again, I had pounded a lot of liquor during the evening. She grabbed my shoulders and stepped forward, pushing me backward toward the wall. She kept pushing until the wall stopped me, then she stepped even closer. Without a word she leaned in and pressed her lips again my own, then parted them, then her tongue found mine, and we grunted softly as she kissed.

She broke off the kiss only long enough to pull my shirt up and over my head and toss it in the floor beside us. Then she dove back against my mouth with hers and pulled my face as close to hers as it could be without us become one face. With my face all but stuck to hers, her other hand roamed over my back and ass and then to my stomach and chest. She grabbed my chest and squeezed, and I realized that I really needed to get back to the gym. I was getting soft and a little flabbier than I thought.

Her hand left the back of my head but her mouth kept our faces locked together, softly moaning against each other's breath. I felt my belt unfasten, then my pants being unbuttoned. They were pulled wide and left to slide down my hips and legs into the floor. I stepped out of them without breaking off the kiss, and it dawn up me that I was down to my boxers and socks, but she was still fully dressed.

I reached behind her to unzip her dress but she pulled my hands away.

“No,” she said. “Not yet.”

And I instead wrapped my hands around her waist and pulled her into a hug.

Before I knew it, my boxers joined my pants on the marble foyer floor, then my socks.

I was completely naked before this goddess, pressed against the wall, being ravaged by her mouth and tongue. She pulled away finally.

“You're amazing,” she said. “Perfect.”

I looked up into her eyes and wondered if her heels had somehow made her taller than me with my socks and shoes off.

I started to speak, but she pressed her finger to my lips and shook her head. I stopped.

She kissed my neck, then her hands danced lightly across my stomach, crossed my waist, and continued to my crotch. I braced for her hand to wrap around my cock, but instead I felt her gently massage my thick tangle of curls and then against what was instead a smooth, flat crotch.

No. Not smooth, I realized as her finger touched a part of me that ignited something in my spine I'd never felt before. It spread through my nerves and I shuddered and moaned.

“Perfect,” she said again.

“What's wrong with me?” I asked, knowing I should be concerned that my dick was suddenly gone.

“Nothing's wrong with you, my pet,” she said, looking down at me, then returning to kiss my neck. The finger between my legs stroked against my skin, then parted that skin and teased the length of the slit it had revealed by its touch.

“Oh,” I said. “That's...” She did it again. “Different.” “You'll find that a lot's different, love.” “What happened to me?”

“Are you afraid?” she asked.

I thought deeply before answering. I should be terribly afraid, I realized, but if I had to face the truth, I wasn't that concerned. I was definitely curious as to what had happened. After all, dicks didn't suddenly become pussies every day. But I wasn't afraid.

She kissed my neck again, sucking softly. I moaned, letting the warmth wash from my neck to my shoulders and arms and across my chest and stomach and even deep into my new vagina.

“I'm not afraid,” I said.

“Do you trust me?”

“I trust you.”

Her finger disappeared slowly inside me again, then her thumb played with what I assumed must be my clitoris. My legs shook and wanted to give out but I didn't want to fall into the floor out of her hand. Her free hand gripped what I now knew was a sizable woman's breast on my chest, and she leaned down to kiss my nipple gently.

The electric feeling in my spine returned, and I really did almost melt into the floor, but I somehow found the strength to will my legs to stand steady.

“What happened to me?” I repeated, suddenly aware Elena hadn't actually answered my question.

“You made a wish,” she said.

“I made a wish,” I echoed, almost in a trance thanks to her touch. “You wished to be Elena St. Martin's dream date, her ideal lover.” “But—”

“And now you are exactly that, just as you wished.” “Just as I wished.”

“That's right. Your wish came true.”

“My wish came true.”

“Do you want to wish yourself back to the way your were? I would gladly drive you back to the club and let you move on with your life, Terrence.”

“I could do that?”

“Certainly. If you like.”

A second finger slipped inside me and her thumb pushed hard against my clit. My breath caught in my throat.

“Or you could stay here and we could have all kinds of fun just the two of us.”

“All kinds of fun,” I said as the two fingers started to pump in and out of my new pussy. “The choice is entirely yours. But know that you didn't wish to look like my ideal lover or to have a one night stand with me. You wished to be, to become my dream date, my ideal lover. And that comes with a few surprises.”

“All kinds of fun,” I said again, my breath coming in short, quick puffs.

“For example, my ideal lover wouldn't want to be anywhere else than with me.” “With you.”

“And my ideal lover enjoys keeping me happy above all else.” “I want you to be happy.”

“Do you want to leave and go back to your old life?” she purred against my ear then nibbled the lobe tenderly. Her fingers kept up the slow, steady, deliberate motion in and out of my pussy. “Or would you rather stay here with me.”

I knew that I should be worried. I knew that my body was not mine anymore. And I knew my mind was changing too. No matter how much I knew what I needed to do—run as fast and as far away as I could—I knew equally what I wanted to do—stay with Elena and be her lover, even if, especially if, that meant throwing away all I had been in my life up to the moment I wished upon her magic stone.

“I want...” I started.

“Yes?” she asked, her breath warm in my ear.

“I want...”

She quickened the pace, then after a few pumps, then pinched my clit hard.

“Oh, god!” I moaned loudly.

“What is it you want?” she asked, massaging my clit between her thumb and forefinger.

My body spasmed. My brain exploded. My nerves lit up with a million and one electric charges.

I screamed out a long line of Ooooo's.

“It's amazing, isn't it? The female orgasm,” she said. “And best of all, you can experience over and over again. Just another advantage of your new body.”

I panted, sweating and shaking against the wall, that lovely, awesome wall that kept me from falling.

“So, what is it?” she asked. “Go or stay?”

She kissed me deeply again, intertwining her fingers with mine, then pulling my arms above my head and holding them against the wall.

“You're perfect,” she said between kisses.

“I think I might love you,” I said. “I want to stay.”

In the mirror on the opposite wall I noticed our reflections, and was reminded that I was stark naked while she remained completely clothed. Elena's dark hair stood out against the gold dress. The girl she was making out with, however, was new to me. I'd never seen her before. She was a good three inches shorter than Elena, Her red hair was a sultry tangle of curls, bobbed just below her chin. Her eyes—I couldn't see the color from so far away—had the sort of smoldering gaze of a Noir film fatale. Her skin was almost as pale as Elena's, but with noticeable freckles, even from that far away.

“Why is it so easy to choose?” I asked.

“It's who you are.” She stroked my face. “Now.”

As she spoke, she spun me around so I faced the wall, then pushed me against it again, my boobs smashed against the cool marble that covered the walls. She placed my hands above my head, flat on the marble.

“Leave them there,” she said, and I nodded.

Then she raked her fingers down my back and up again, no doubt leaving pink rows behind them. After a moment she pulled away.

“Elena?” I asked, but the only response I received was a loud swat on as ass. I cried out, and she kissed my back then smacked my ass again.

“Shush,” she whispered as I cried out again. “Or I'll have to punish you.”

For some reason, her words made me want her even more. There was a wet heat I could practically smell rising from between my legs. I had never been in to pain or this kind of kinky role play before, but just the thought of being punished by Elena turned me on in a way that felt hot, that felt new, that felt... right. Damn my new cravings. I wanted to push her, to make her punish me. I wanted...

Smack! Another hard slap. I knew my ass must be turning red.

Then she reached between my legs and teased my slit.

“Nice,” she said. “You're positively dripping with excitement, aren't you?”

I blushed, my cheeks rising to the same red tone that no doubt matched my ass.

“Admit it. You love being a girl. You love being my girl. You love submitting to my control, giving in to my will, letting me do with your body what I want.”

“Elena...”

“Call me, Ma'am,” she said.

“Elena?”

She shoved me harder against the wall, so much so I had to turn my face to keep my nose from bruising.

“Call. Me. Ma'am.”

“Ma'am?”

She relaxed her grip but still kept me pinned to the wall. “Isn't that better?” “Yes, ma'am,” I said. “I do love it. I admit it. But I don't understand it.”

She didn't answer. Instead she took my hand and pulled me into an embrace. Then she let me to a room with a high ceiling and stained wooden walls. Two antique sofas sat in the center facing each other, and the other furniture was two large chests against the far wall.

Elena motioned to the sofa closest to me and said, “Have a seat, my dear.”

I did as she suggested, growing increasingly comfortable in my nakedness. I was hers to enjoy and if she chose to remain fully clothed, that was her prerogative. As for me, I simply waited, remaining ready to please her.

She walked to one of the chests, unlocked it, then opened it. She pulled a roughly two-foot long piece of black leather from it, then, leaving the top open, returned to me.

“Turn to the side and face away,” she instructed.

I did as I was told, and she pulled my arms behind my back and pushed them close together. “Clasp your hands together.”

I twined my fingers together, making a single mass of my hands. She slid the leather sleeve over my hands, then pulled it up to my elbows and all the way up to just below my shoulders. Fit snug in the bottom of the sleeve, I found that I couldn't unclasp my hands. As long as the sleeve was in place they would remain useless and together.

Elena wrapped a strap under my left arm and over my shoulder, buckling it tightly to the a section of the sleeve itself. Not content to do just that, she did the same to my right arm and shoulder. To check her work, she pulled at the bottom of the sleeve and found it to be secure and not coming off without having the straps unbuckled.

“Just one last thing,” she said, and I felt my elbows touch behind him, pushing out my boobs almost obscenely, then felt another strap tightened around them, locking them together. “Perfect.” “Ma'am?” I asked.

“Yes, Terrence?”

“It's a little uncomfortable.”

She nodded. “And it will become increasingly so,” she said. “But that's okay. That's the way it's supposed to feel. You do want to suffer a little for me, don't you?”

And I did. I knew I did.

To help me further accept that truth, she wrapped her arms around my waist and slid one hand between my thighs, then inside me. Just one finger, but the touch was enough to make me quiver. She stroked my clit, then rubbed her moist finger across my bare stomach and it left a noticeable trail of my desire glistening across my skin.

“Open up,” she said, and I did. She pushed her finger into my mouth and I closed my lips around it and sucked it clean. I tasted amazing. She tasted amazing with my juices on her finger.

She got up from the sofa and returned to the chest. When she came back to me, she held a black collar about an inch wide.

“Every pet needs a collar,” she said, sitting beside me and encircling my neck with the thick piece of leather. It had a D-ring in the front and back. She fastened it, but not so tightly I couldn't breathe.

“Okay?” she asked. 

I nodded. 

“Good girl.”

Then she showed me another thin strap of leather and moved to the other side of the sofa, taking a seat behind me. I felt her tie one end of the strip to the top of the sleeve, and then my collar was tugged against my neck as she tied the other end to the D-ring in the back of the collar.

“That out to do it,” she said.

Returning to the chest, this time she retrieved a sleeve about three feet long. It had three buckles and straps on the top half and metal rings on the bottom half. She draped it across the crook of her arm, then reached into the chest again and pulled out a second sleeve just like it. This too she lay across her arm.

“Not quite yet,” she said.

She walked to the sofa and laid both sleeves on the cloth beside me.

“I'll be right back,” she said.

I simply waited as she wanted me too. She was gone for about five minutes, or so it felt, and when she returned she held a pair of black stockings.

“For me?” I asked.

“They'll look lovely on these perfect legs,” she said, answering indirectly.

“Yes, ma'am,” I said.

She bunched one into a ball and then started at the toes of my right foot, then slid the wispy nylon up my calf, then over my thigh and finally in place. When it was fully on, she fidgeted with it to make sure the seam was straight behind me. Then she did the same with my left foot, left calf, and left leg.

“Simply breathtaking,” she said.

I blushed. I couldn't deny how the luxuriant feel of turned me on. I feared I might gush all over the expensive sofa.

“Now...” she said, and grabbed one of the long, leather sleeves. She slid the thing easily up my leg thanks to the smooth stockings, then readjusted the seams as best she could. She then slid the second on in place and smiled at me hungrily. She lay me onto my back, increasing the discomfort in my arms and shoulders, but her happy grin made it easier to bear.

She bent my leg and fished the strap from the top of the sleeve around my leg and through the corresponding loop, then cinched it as tight as she could and buckled it in place. She did the same with the middle and lowest straps, and when she was finished one of my legs had become little more than a stump ending at the knee.

“Ma'am?” I asked again, coming to realize just how much I was putting myself at Elena's mercy. When she finished the other knee, I knew I would be essentially helpless, save for the ability to cry out for help, and even that seemed impossible thanks to the deep feelings I had to please her.

“Do you trust me, Terrence? Don't you want to make me happy?” I nodded. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Well, the more helpless you become the happiest I am, my love. You see, When you wished to become my ideal lover, you took on all the quirks and attitudes and kinks I look for in a playmate. As a dominant, I yearn for a true submissive. As a bit of a sadist, nothing makes me happier than a sweet, little pet who is willing to endure pain for me.”

“Pain, ma'am?”

She nodded. “Yes, love. Pain.”

“How much pain?”

“Are you afraid, little one?”

“Yes, ma'am. A little.”

“That's good. I also enjoy your fear.”

As we spoke, she fastened the second leg sleeve in place and soon I found myself with two stumps for legs and my arms secured behind me.

Leaving me on the sofa she returned again to the chest. This time she returned with two V-shaped pieces of black material. She leaned close to my face and motioned for me to open wide. As I did, she slipped one of the Vs in my mouth and between my upper and lower teeth. When she removed her hand from inside my mouth, I tried to bite down and discovered that the rigid thing forced that side of my mouth open. She easily shoved the second V in place on the other side and secured my mouth wide open. If I had been at her mercy before, I knew now my helplessness was complete. If she wanted to she could poison me at her leisure and there wasn't a damn thing I could to stop her.

“Perfect,” she said again and to draw attention to how vulnerable and exposed I was to her, she ran her finger in a circle inside my mouth, even rubbing it along the edge of my teeth for good measure. I could only feel its invasion.

“Now, about that name of yours, I don't think Terrence is going to cut it anymore. What do you think of Delia or Amber, or maybe Claudette. You'll need something sweet and oh-so-very girly, of course.

“Eh-eh,” I said, it being about the only sound I could make with my mouth forced open. “Shush now, love.”

“Perhaps Babette. Or maybe Frieda. Or Genevieve.” She scrunched up her face in thought. “Maybe Jolene. No, sounds like some kind of truck stop slut. What about Lily or Penelope?”

I wanted to tell her it didn't matter to me, that whatever she wanted for me would be fine. But in my bonds, I could say or do nothing.

“Violet. Hmm. Maybe. Vivian. No. I think we'll stick with Claudette. That's fancy and girly and has a certain kind of old-school class to it. What do you think, Claudette?”

I mumbled my agreement and nodded.

“Are you comfortable, Claudette?”

I shook my head.

“Good then,” she said. “Now that you're not going anywhere, I need to share a secret with you.” She sat on the other sofa, facing me and crossed her legs. I struggled against my bonds and grunted. She evidently loved the sounds of my helplessness, and each wiggle and sound elicited a smile from her.

“I'm not like most girls,” she said while I continued to struggle. “You see, when I first found this wonderful little stone of mine, I experimented around with it. I was a man, a woman, several types of animals, even a few curious mixtures of these. And I learned something about myself.” She uncrossed her legs and stood up.

“I learned who and what I wanted to be.”

She walked the small expanse of floor between us, then helped me down from the sofa to the floor on my knees. After that, she leaned me forward until my face touched the floor and my ass jutted out behind me, placing both my pussy and ass on display and free to accept any abuse or attention Elena might deign to provide.

“I was born Emil Waterson. Yes, I was a man, like you were. And when I found my wishing stone, I tried everything under the sun. I spend a year as a woman. Hell, I have two children who are older than me now who have magically forgotten I exist. I've been young and old. And I learned that what I liked best was to be as womanly as I could without losing that part of me that was essentially male.”

She raised her dress and lifted it over her shoulders to drop it onto the floor beside me. Her pink lace panties betrayed a large bulge.

“I only wear loose, flowing dresses and skirts for a very good reason,” she said. “I never could e satisfied with a life without my dick, and so I simply wished myself to be every inch a woman, outside of that one change. Incidentally, I do believe that's why I prefer submissive little girls like you, Claudette, because I still want to and need to have my cock serviced.”

She inched down her panties just enough to set the monster dick free. I gasped and felt my breath catch in my throat. I panicked at the thought that she would fuck me with that beast. It dwarfed the one I had possessed just a few hours earlier by a good two inches long and at least another inch in girth. I scooted as best I could toward the safety of the couch, if there was safety at all to be found.

“Are you surprised, Claudette?”

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled, drool running from the corner of my mouth onto the floor.

“You should be. You're a virgin, Claudette. You've only had my fingers inside you, but you haven't yet experienced anything like this. I imagine when I pop your cherry, you'll hurt a bit and you'll bleed a bit too. But it'll all be okay. I won't hurt you more than you can handle. And I promise you'd have as much pleasure as you do pain.”

I shuddered. She knelt beside me and stroked my ass, taking time to linger between my cheeks and toy with my asshole. I shook without being able to stop myself.

“It's okay, Claudette. You'll enjoy giving yourself to me, sweetie. Besides, there's nothing you could do about it anyway. You're completely powerless to do anything to stop me.”

Her finger traced from my asshole to the bottom edge of my labia. Then inside.

I moaned.

“That's better. This should help relax you a little.”

She pinched my clit and I yelped.

“Are you ready, my dear, or would you rather even now have me set your free and drive you back to the club to go back to your old life as Terrence?”

While I wasn't ready, I certainly didn't want to go back either. I wanted to make her happy, even if it scared me.

“Nothing to say? So perfect for me. I could certainly grow to fall in love with you, Claudette.” I blushed again, the heat rising in my cheeks.

I craned my neck to look back at her just in time to see her smack my ass with her open palm.

I screamed unintelligibly.

She whacked me again.

Spit and drool drizzled from my open mouth as I cried out again.

Ten slaps. She paced them with enough time between each to maximize the sting just as the previous one was starting to fade. I yelped and yelled and cried and drooled enough to wet my face as it lay in the small puddle I created.

“Now you're ready, Claudette,” she said and she positioned herself behind me. I whimpered as the tip of her cock touched my labia. My body pulsed and shuddered when she slowly parted my nether lips and entered just enough for the head to rest inside me. She gripped my hips and latched her fingers on my skin like it was a handrail on a roller coaster.

My mind searched for words to describe the sensation as she shoved that monstrous cock inside me, filling me so completely I felt as if she had been molded to match the inside of my pussy. I wondered briefly if that too wasn't part of my wish. In becoming her ideal lover, had I wished myself into being an absolutely perfect fit for her dick?

But the thought was rushed away, replaced by shortness of breath and the electricity in my nerves again as she pulled back, out of me until just the head remained inside. Then she slammed her pelvis against my ass again.

I grunted and moaned loudly.

She thrust again. She didn't stop. I lost count of the numbers of times she pounded me, each time her cock rubbing my clit along its length and then back again. After barely a minute, I had my second female orgasm. But still she kept going. After five minutes I wondered if the wishing stone had granted her the kind of stamina that was unnatural for the average man.

I came again, howling nonsense through my securely open mouth.

After another minute, she pulled out and helped me sit up on my knees again. Her erection remained as long and large as it had been when I first saw it. It hadn't faded at all. She rested her hands on my ears and pulled my face toward the throbbing member. I shook my head vigorously, but she slapped me and told me to be a good girl, that I deserved a taste of that new pussy of mine.

She pulled until the tip pushed into my mouth and rested on my tongue. I dared not move my tongue, terrified that the beast would continue its descent. As I gasped for breath though, my tongue rubbed against the underside, and it bounced against the roof of my mouth.

“That's a good girl,” Elena said. “Use your tongue. Think about how you liked it and do the same thing.”

Her hands left my ears and tenderly moved to the back of my head. My eyes grew wide with fear and started to water as I begged her not to go further. But she only smiled and pulled my further and further, slowly and deliberately, onto her cock.

When my lips touched the skin at the base I couldn't breathe. Not only that, I also felt like I might throw up. Only the obstacle in my mouth and throat kept me from doing that. Rather than choking me to death she pulled out enough to let me breathe.

“We'll work on deep throating later, and believe me, you'll get to be very good at it, Claudette, but for now, let's just let you finish what I assume is your first time getting fucked in the mouth.”

She pushed inside again. Pulled out to the tip. Then in. Out. Holding my head still, she thrust her cock in and out of my mouth like she had done with my pussy. It grew warm and thicker and started to throb a little.

“Almost time now,” she said, not stopping.

Continuing to pump my face, she gazed down at me, smiling with a warmth that settled my fear. I locked my eyes onto hers and I let the love I saw there settle into my chest. I matched my breathing to hers. I grunted softly with each thrust, giving her the sounds of being taken by her. I struggled against my armbinder and my leg sleeves to pretend to try to futilely break free.

“Oh, yes,” she said, pumping harder and deeper into my mouth. Then she held me still. Her cock lurched to life against the top of my throat. Time seemed to stop. I closed my eyes.

Warm, sticky semen spurted into my throat. What couldn't make it there returned to my mouth and spilled out of my open lips. I drooled cum onto my breasts. She pulled out and tilted back my head to let it run down my throat since it was difficult to swallow with my mouth forced open. I forced what liquid I could down and let the rest just slide at its own pace.

“My perfect Claudette,” she said. “Can you walk on your knees?”

I tried, found that I could move forward, albeit slowly, and I nodded.

“Good girl. Come here,” she said, motioning to the chest that was still locked, the one she hadn't gotten the bondage gear out of. It took a minute of so, but I made it to her, and she smiled and petted my hair.

She unlocked and opened the chest. Inside was a red pillow that filled the entire bottom. On one end was a smaller pillow with gold trim.

I looked up at her and shook my head.

“Not even for me, Claudette?”

I shook my head.

“What if it's what I want?”

I widened my eyes, arching my brows to beg her not to lock me in the chest.

“What if you don't have a choice and it doesn't matter?”

I grunted loudly.

She laughed. Then she lifted me as if I weighed nothing and laid me gently inside the chest on the pillow, careful to rest my head on the smaller one.

“Comfy?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“That's good, my love,” she said as she closed the lid. The last sounds I heard other than my own breathing was the snap as the latches were fastened and then the faint click-clack of her heels as she walked away.

And there I waited in the dark, bound with my legs useless and my arms secure behind me, with my mouth locked open—with no recourse but to be totally dependent on her whims regarding when she might want to take me out and play with me again.