Vicious Beach - Perfect Choice

"Ask me again slut," she whispered.

"Please Mistress," he asked. "May I have a pair of lace thong panties? "

"Do you want to be my pretty little femme?" she asked.

"Yes Mistress," he moaned, her subtle manipulations easing his confession.

She knew he was close to orgasm, and with a few more strokes he would be cumming in her hand. She withdrew her hand slowly, looking down with smug satisfaction at his throbbing erection.

"You see my dear," she said softly, "I can also bring you great pleasure. If you would like more pleasure I suggest you remain obedient. Because I will only treat you as well as your behavior dictates. Understood?"

"Yes Mistress," Troy replied. The dull ache of pain had not yet subsided, but it was slowly giving way to the pleasant stimulation she had administered. Her sudden act of compassion had stirred something within him, and it seemed that despite his best efforts he was completely at her mercy. He could only stare at her wondering why he suddenly felt quite at ease with it.

She noticed the way he looked at her and struggled not to lose her composure; instead she just smiled a bit and took him softly by the hand. "Come with me sweetie, lets make you pretty."

He followed behind her obediently, walking as she had instructed him. She led him down the stairs, unable to get the picture of his face out of his head. The way he looked at her was as if he had never seen her before, the conflicting emotions she caused within him not allowing him to think clearly, leaving him open to her direction. The less he protested the better.

"Would you please grab the glasses and the pitcher on the bar?" she asked as they passed them.

Troy picked up the heavy glass pitcher full of orange juice and vodka, which smelled more like vodka than juice, and the delicate stemware careful not to spill any of the screwdriver on the carpet. He walked slowly towards her, the decreased speed amplifying his pronounced feminine gait. She pointed down the hall towards the bathroom and he could feel his face reddening as he passed her, her hand falling lightly on the small of his back ushering him inside.

"Set them down on the vanity and pour one for the both of us," she told him. "I'll be with you momentarily."

She opened the door to her bedroom and flicked on the radio, the XM radio filling the entire master suite with the soft sound of a jazz trumpet. The smooth melody drifted slowly over her, relaxing her tension and washing away the anger that had filled her moments ago. She didn't like the violence but it was a necessary evil to get him to submit. She preferred using her sexuality to entice him so much more, and she thoroughly enjoyed the spankings, but when she had the overwhelming urges to hurt him it took all her strength to step back from the edge. She took a deep, cleansing breath and joined Troy in the bathroom.

"Before we begin," she said as she entered, "I want you to tell me what, if anything, you are allergic to."

"Nothing Mistress," he replied.

"Very good." She smiled and picked up the two full glasses of vodka and orange juice, offering the one with the pink straw to Troy. "To the pleasure of submission, for you and for me," she toasted, a vicious smile adorning her lips.

"To the pleasure of submission," Troy repeated, "for you and for me." He took a slurp, stifling a cough as the harsh alcohol hit the back of his throat.

"Finish it sweetie," she commanded tilting the bottom of the glass with the riding crop. She watched with glee as he sucked down the entire glass, leaving not a drop. She took it from him when he had finished and pointed him toward the large glass shower in the back of the bathroom. "

I want you to clean yourself, but use only cold water. You'll find a bar of soap and a loofa on the shelf in there. You have five minutes."

"Yes Mistress," Troy replied, quickly bending over to remove his shoes. He scurried into the shower and turned the gold knob marked "C'. Shockingly frigid water descended on him from five different shower heads, the hard needles of spray, one above his head, two just below his chest and two more at his hips, feeling like thousands of tiny icicles on his flesh. He turned around, trying to relieve the agony on his testicles, but he nearly screamed aloud when the water made contact with the raw flesh of his buttocks. He turned around again, backing up as far as he could but the shallow area afforded him little relief. He reached for the soap and began to lather up.

She watched his antics with a quiet curiosity, knowing what would happen, but not knowing what his reaction would be. She had adjusted the spray, usually at a soft spray, to the hard needles he felt after she had finished with her shower. He was in obvious pain but he seemed to be willing himself through it. Another good sign, she thought to herself. She grabbed a large bath towel from the linen closet and laid it flat on the floor at the entrance to the shower room.

She had made a point of it to turn up the central air before she went back upstairs and when he exited his well maintained body was tense and shivering. The water dripped from his body and the sight of him wet and naked sent a shiver through her own body, but not because of the cold.

"Just stand on the towel and let me have a look at you femme," she said trying not to reveal her lust. She tapped at his shrunken genitals, laughing softly at his wrinkled balls pulled tightly to his crotch, his penis limp and ineffective above them. "Turn around, bend over and spread your legs."

Troy obeyed, still shivering, feeling less and less comfortable as each second passed.

"Wider little girl," she said, tapping the inside of his thighs with the crop. "Put your feet all the way to edge of the towel."

He shuddered as he spread his legs even farther, dreading what unspeakable plan she had for him.

"That's better," she said stepping out of the way of the camera, mounted in the mirror above her sink. "Now tell me, are you ready to become my sissified little femme?

"Yes Mistress," Troy replied, unwittingly staring, albeit upside down, into the mirror behind him.

"And do you promise to do what I tell you, to serve me, to please me..."

"Yes Mistress."

"Do you give yourself to me, body, mind and soul, forgoing any other sexual pleasure but what I allow?"

"Yes Mistress."

"If you break any of these promises, do you understand that you will be punished by whatever means I see fit?"

"Yes Mistress."

"And do you also understand that if at anytime you wish our relationship to end you may do so by leaving me the way I found you?"

"Yes Mistress."

"Do you wish to leave now femme?"

"No Mistress."

"I'm glad to hear that," she sighed. "Now I want you to pick a safe word."

"Mistress?" he asked, confused.

"A word that you can say that will let me know when you've had enough and don't feel like you can possibly continue..." she explained. "But not a word like 'stop', 'please' or any other word that can be uttered in the throes of passion. Understand?"

"Yes Mistress, I thin...AAHH!"

She swatted him sternly across his right buttock, his wet skin accenting the force of the blow.

"A simple 'Yes Mistress' will do," she said. "Or 'Whatever you desire Mistress' unless I ask you a question that requires a specific answer. Understood?"

"Yes Mistress."

"Good. Now tell me what have you decided?"

"Whatever you desire Mistress."

"That's good femme, you're learning." She smiled broadly knowing immediately what she would use. No other word would seem quite right, and it was a word she had already used to describe him. "Your safe word will be 'perfect'."

"Yes Mistress." The word sounded just right to Troy, although he hoped to never use it.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way I think we can begin." She said laying the crop on the marble counter.

She picked up a cordless trimmer from its base and turned it on, its frantic buzz making her wish for something else entirely. But that would have to wait. "Ready, my sweet?" she asked.

"Y..y..yes Mistress," Troy stammered.

She placed the razor on his right thigh, the goose pimples on his skin raising the moist hair precisely as she pulled the trimmer up the length of his thigh leaving a path of short stubble in its wake. She did not expect to shave him clean, only remove the bulk of the hair before removing it entirely with a few bottles of depilatory cream. But that was later. Right now she was enjoying shaving up and down the crack of his ass, letting the head of the trimmer linger behind his balls and over the tightly puckered asshole. When she had finished with his lower body she commanded him to turn around and stand up, but keep his legs spread. She ran the razor down his chest and stomach, pausing briefly above his pubic hair, leaving it until last. She finished quickly, moving with practiced ease and then went to work on his still withered genitals.

She took his penis in her hand forcing it back between his spread legs, pressing it against his balls firmly with her palm. She then began to shave around the base of his cock, leaving a small strip of hair the width of his penis right above it. She then cut across the top of it leaving about two inches of it left and followed that by raising the guard and trimming the strip of pubic hair, leaving slightly longer than the rest. She released him and stepped back admiring her work for just a moment before lifting his penis and holding it to his stomach, effectively pulling his testicles forward. She buzzed his balls slowly, feeling the unique sensation bound to stimulate him. It had its desired effect and when she released his penis it bobbed out in front of him, a tell-tale sign of arousal.

"You've enjoyed that I see," she teased.

"Yes Mistress," he answered fearfully.

"Don't worry sweetie," she said smiling, "I don't expect you to maintain discipline when I'm holding your penis specifically. Even the most pure little priss wouldn't be able to resist their mistress' touch. Go rinse yourself off now, and be thorough, because for every stray piece of hair I find on you, you'll get five strokes from my riding crop."

Troy retreated to the shower again, once again at the mercy of the cold needles of water. His erection ebbed quickly under the onslaught of frigid liquid yet he could only move slowly, terrified at the prospect of feeling the sharp bite of the crop again. He knew he was destined for failure but he wanted to keep the pain to a minimum as he was sure this was not the last test he would have to pass. He heard her call his name after about five minutes and he turned the water off reluctantly, even though he was once again shivering uncontrollably.

"Let's see how we did," she said as she opened a towel in front of him directing him to step into it.

She dried him off roughly, squeezing and twisting him this way and that until his body was reasonably dry. She did not touch his head choosing instead to pull his hair back into a loose ponytail with a bright yellow scrunchie. When she had finished she spread the towel on the cold tile floor and directed him to pick off any stray hairs.

Troy knelt in front of her and set about his task thankfully only finding four.

"That's twenty you owe me girlie," she said sternly. "Would you like them now or later?"

"Whatever you desire Mistress," he answered.

"I think they can wait," she said, adding, "I have more important things to do right now. Step on the towel and assume the same position as before."

"Yes Mistress."

Once he had bent over in front of her she dabbed a small amount of petroleum jelly on her index finger and applied it to the rim of his anus explaining, "This is to protect you from any of the cream from going inside you, I can tell you that it is not a feeling that you would want to experience. Therefore keep still and I'll do my best not to let that happen."

Troy felt her applying the tingling cream to his ankles thighs and buttocks, the acrid smell of the depilatory raising the bile in his throat. When she stood him up it squashed between his buttocks, and suddenly began to grow warmer. He realized now how much it would've burned had it been inside of him. The cream he noticed was two different colors, white around his legs and torso and a deep green around his groin and buttocks. She explained that one was for his bikini line where the hair is notoriously tougher. He nodded in acknowledgement, the realization of the feminine context of her words making his own catch in his throat.

"There now all finished," she exclaimed, obviously excited. "I think you'll be very happy with the results. After a few minutes you're going to step into the bathtub and I'll clean you off and then I'll shave your balls. Sound like fun?"

"Yes Mistress," he lied, not excited at all about having a razor that close to his crotch.

"That's correct missy, because they're no longer yours anyway, they're mine."

She emphasized her point by playfully bouncing them in her hand, and drumming on them rhythmically with her fingers.

"Yes Mistress," he conceded.

"And so is this." She grabbed his penis with her other hand gently stroking it. "And I'll do with them as I see fit. So from now on if I catch you touching them without my permission I have a special punishment that I know you won't enjoy."

"Yes Mistress."

"I'm going to run the water in the bath and I want you to remember the last time you jerked off," she said, "because it was the last time you'll be doing it without wearing panties and I don't want you to forget it."

Troy didn't have to think hard. It had been yesterday morning in the shower. He had been thinking about Heidi, his hot young personal assistant, with her flawless tits and the ass that didn't quit. Only twenty-four with blond hair, deep blue eyes and face made for portraits he thought about her often but had never made a move, as it would be career suicide. But he had fantasized about her more than once. And now it seemed he would never be able to again?

"Mistress?" he called.

"What is it sweetie?"

"What did you mean 'the last time without wearing panties'?"

"Exactly what I said," she replied. "You're not to touch your girl-cock or your sac without a pair of panties on. Unless of course you are washing them or you're tucking them between your legs to use the toilet. Understand?"

"Yes Mistress," he replied, regretful and sad.

"But once you've cum in your panties," she said, "you'll be begging me to do it again. I promise. Sweet little femmes like you always do."

"Yes Mistress." Troy replied, the resignation in his voice that of a person who has just heard an indisputable fact

"The water's ready, come over here." she called to him, her eyebrows wrinkled into a thoughtful arch.

Troy climbed into the tub, warm water up to his ankles. He was having a hard time coping with the fact that he would never be able to masturbate again when he felt her hand encircle his cock again, caressing him with long, deliberate strokes.

"Unless of course you'd rather have me do it for you, hmm?" she teased.

"What...whatever you desire Mistress..." he moaned.

"I think I can't wait to watch you cum in your pretty little panties, I think that when you cum in your panties you're going to wish you had done it sooner, I think that after you've cum in your panties that's the only way you'll ever want to cum...ever...again..."

A tiny bead of pre-cum glistened on the tip of Troy's penis when she released him, falling uselessly into the flow of water at his feet.

"Did I give you permission to let your girl-cock drip bitch?" she said angrily.

"No Mistress."

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm sorry Mistress, I'm a bad girl and I deserve to be punished."

"You still have a little bit of slut in you that comes out whenever I talk about your panties," she observed. She began wiping his legs with a warm washcloth, removing the cream from his calf along with the remains of his hair. "I bet you've even worn a pair before haven't you?"

"Wha..No Mistress!"

"C'mon, I know you're lying," she coaxed, "What color were they?" She continued to clean him, now almost finished with both legs.

"Mistress, please..." he pleaded.

"What color were they?" she repeated. "Black, or maybe red....pink perhaps?"

"I...didn't...I...I never..."

"Yes you did sweetie," she said, "and my guess is you liked it so much that it scared the shit out of you. Maybe an animal print then? A cute little pair of leopard print bikini briefs?"

"...." Troy was stunned that she could know his secret, right down to the leopard print pattern.

"That's it isn't it?!" she exclaimed. "I knew you were a femme. Tell me how it happened..."

"Mistress..." he begged, "please don't make me..."

"Would you rather I tell you what I think?" she asked. "Because I have a theory as to how it happened...stop me if I say something wrong. A girl you know, not a girlfriend, just a cute young co-ed in college goes back to your room one night, we'll call her Jenny, unless you want to tell me her name?"

"April," he said softly, "her name was April."

"April," she continued, "leaves early the next morning and unable to find her panties, leaves without them. How am I doing so far?"

"Exactly right Mistress."

"Right. So anyway you find them twisted in between your sheets and unsure of what to do with them you put them in your underwear drawer. So all week you see them in there and have to move them every morning when you get dressed. And every morning you get aroused just by touching them. April takes you aside one day after class and asks you if you found her panties and you lie telling her you haven't seen them. But you can tell she knows you're lying when she says 'Right, if you do come across them just keep them' then she says, 'besides they'd probably look pretty cute on you anyhow.' You blush and she laughs, not knowing that her innocent flirtation has just made your cock jump in your pants..... Should I stop now or would you like me to keep going?"

"Whatever you desire Mistress," Troy replied, remembering distinctly what April had said that day. "Let me know how they fit cutie..."

He had walked the rest of the way back to his suite with a raging hard-on.

"You go back to your room," she continued, "your erection so hard it feels like it will bust through your boxers. You try to get the image of April in her panties out of your head the rest of the day, but to no avail. You masturbate in the shower that night but you still can't shake the image. Except now she's naked and you're wearing the panties. You pull out the panties to throw them away, when you catch your reflection in the mirror, for a brief moment seeing them on you."

"Mistress," Troy pleaded, "please stop."

"Why my sweet?" she asked, "am I far off?"

"No Mistress," he answered, tears filling his eyes, "I never told anyone about that, ever. And hearing you describe it so...precisely...is humiliating."

"And why do you think that is?"

"I, I don't know Mistress."

"It's because you want to express your desires but you've spent so much time repressing them that your mind refuses to accept what your body feels."

She smiled at him, trying to ease his tension. "Humiliation will give way to acceptance in time, I assure you."

"Yes Mistress."

"Now tell me what happened after you put April's panties on," she said, "and I want you to paint me a vivid picture... don't leave anything out."

"I laid them on the bed, staring at them for about five minutes, nervous and excited at the same time. I took my towel off and hung it on a hook in my closet now totally naked. I told myself that I would only put them on for a second and then take them right off. Just one quick peek and then it was done."