A Strange Affair


"I think you'd better come in," said the blonde-haired woman. She opened the door to the apartment fully, and stood aside as I walked through the door.

She was attractive enough -- it was hard to see why her husband would want to cheat on her. She was very tall, and made taller by her black patent leather shoes with stiletto heels. I couldn't help my eyes wandering up her stockinged legs to where her short pencil skirt covered curving thighs. Her waist was thin, and I wondered whether she was wearing a corset beneath her smart black satin blouse.

Her blonde hair was tied into a tight bun fixed in place with a black ribbon. Her makeup was perfect, and not for the first time I reflected that if my wife was so attractive, I certainly wouldn't be cheating on her.

In a way, that was exactly the matter that had brought me here. I'd suspected my wife had been cheating on me. Nothing concrete, originally, and I'd fought my doubts for months. But little things that only a husband would notice began to give her away. Eventually, I'd had to rid myself of the feeling I was paranoid and try to find the there man in our relationship.

I'd followed her here, to this building and this apartment. It wasn't difficult. My wife hadn't known I was tailing her, and she seemed almost carefree as she pressed the buzzer. I'd waited outside for an hour, letting her leave. A pint in a pub around the corner settled my nerves until I knew what I had to do. I had to confront the man who was fucking my wife.

But when I returned I realised I'd missed him. While I was in the pub, he must have slipped out past me. His wife answered the buzzer, and I told her I had something vitally important to tell her.

At the door, she had hardly seemed surprised when I blurted out my tale. Perhaps he'd cheated on her before, but I have to say she seemed almost amused as she invited me in.

She offered me a drink and I nodded. What I needed was a good stiff gin. She brought me the glass, complete with ice and lemon, and I swallowed the whole thing almost without thinking.

A mistake, as I now know. My memory is a bit fuzzy about what happened next.

What I do know is that I awoke spreadeagled on a huge bed covered in red satin sheets. A mirror on the ceiling showed me a terrible, shameful sight.

I was tied to the bedposts with wide black ribbon. I was gagged with a bundle of black material that was tied in place with another black ribbon. But I wasn't naked -- and nor was I dressed as I had been.

On my feet were black, high-heeled sandals with long thin leather straps that wound around my legs almost to my knees. They clung to the sheer black stockings which gently clung to my legs, and the open toes showed off bright red nail polish decorating my toenails. The stockings had a deep band of lace at the top, to which clasps held taught black suspenders that reached a black satin belt festooned with slender red ribbons. My waist was constricted by a matching black satin nipper garlanded with tiny red satin bows. A bra matched the ensemble -- and it was then I noticed my hairlessness. My legs, chest, armpits, and arms were all baby smooth. But to top it all, someone had shaved my balls. I could see them clearly in the mirror, poking out of a pair of crotchless black satin knickers. My dick poked through the French-cut garment.

My face was made up, with long thick fake lashes. My eyes, looking panicky and frightened, were lined with thick black kohl. Somebody had tweezed my eyebrows into thin tapering arches and accentuated them with pencil. Light blue eyeshadow seemed to make the blue in my eyes deeper and yet more innocent-looking. My lipstick was thick red carmine that shape an plumped my lips into caricatures. My whole face was powdered and foundationed, but my cheekbones had been rouged. On my head was a black bob wig.

I was doll-like and feminine. I'd always had a very slight frame, and it wasn't hard to be fooled into thinking I was a beautiful young woman. That is, if you ignored my cock and balls, on display through the peep-crotch knickers. Who had done this to me? What had happened to me? I couldn't begin to imagine. I was horrified. Wearing women's clothing? I wasn't gay!

At the exact moment that indignant thought blurted itself through my racing mind, I felt an incredible shock start inside me. I had something in my arse; and it was vibrating!

I tensed in surprise, and felt the solid filling buzz along the length of my violated passage. I lifted my hips off the bed as I tried to escape it, but I couldn't. Its shrill humming was so intense it almost hurt, but waves of pleasure burst in my abdomen, sending signals of sheer pleasure to my smooth cock and balls.

It stopped just as abruptly, and I relaxed, flopping back on the bed. Another mistake -- my own weight drove it further inside me and I'm ashamed to say I squealed with the delightful feeling.

But the respite was short as it began again. This time it started as a low, permeating throb which rose in speed and tone over a few seconds until it hit a crescendo that elicited an instant erection.

I was tied to a bed, gagged and dressed like a very expensive whore -- and I was enjoying it. Who had done this to me? How did I end up here?

The vibrator's whine died again, and I caught a breath I barely knew I'd held. I let out a moan of frustration that was muffled by the gag. Three short sharp bursts at full power grabbed my immediate attention and this time I didn't moan. I shrieked each time my prostate felt the maddening touch.

Just as I was wondering how long this would continue, I heard the click of high heels enter the room. The blonde stood over me, smiling. I wasn't entirely sure I like that smile. It reminded me of some sort of predator sizing up its trapped prey.

Her eyes wandered down my body, to where my penis twitched and danced.

"My," she said, "You're not so little, are you, girl?"

I tried to speak, but with gag in my mouth prevented me from making any sort of intelligible sound. She smiled again.

"I hope you appreciate my knickers," she said, "I didn't have my usual gag available. I was washing it after using it on your wife."

My mind reeled. My wife? Where did she fit into all this? My ignorance didn't last long.

"Yes, this afternoon she was exactly where you are. Tied up exactly like you are. And dressed in exactly those clothes. Consider yourself fortunate. She had a ball gag, while you have the privilege of being gagged with my lacy, worn knickers. It took her weeks to earn that, and here you are winning such a prize on your first visit."

I was aching to shout denials at her. My wife was no pervert. And this might be my first visit, but it was certainly going to be my last. But the woman had anticipated even that thought.

"She vowed her first time would be her last, but the little slut soon came back begging for more. Just as you will, I promise."

I shook my head, but she just laughed softly.

"We'll see, my prissy little madam. Soon you'll enjoy being fucked by my cock, just as she does. Oh, I know you thought she craved another man's cock, but the truth is she's been here all those times while I fucked her."

She removed her blouse and skirt as I watched. She was gorgeous, and her red lacy bra, knickers and suspender set framed her assets to perfection. Her black stockings whispered against mine as she lay on the bed beside me. One knee hooked over my body as she rubbed herself against me.

The sensation of my lingerie on hers was divine. I'd never felt anything so smooth and sensual against my skin. It was as though I was being stroked delicately from my toes to my chest.

I couldn't help myself. My body responded to her touch, to the feel of her stockings as they caressed mine. Her hand wandered across the waist-nipper I wore, smoothing the material and sending shivers rippling across me. I could feel the heat of her groin as I moved against my thigh.

"Yes," she whispered, "It feels good to me my sexy little whore, doesn't it? I know you're enjoying your silky knickers and the smooth bra moving on your nipples. Show me how good it feels, darling, and I might let you cum."

I was losing my reason in the delights of the lingerie. For the first time, I noticed the smell of perfume, and realised I knew the aroma. My wife wore the same scent. Her perfume was still on these soft undergarments. I was being seduced by the woman who'd bedded my wife earlier that day. And she was forcing my consent by dressing me in the same slutty expensive underwear she'd made my wife wear.

My cock was a stiff, throbbing pole that telegraphed pleasure across my entire nervous system. And as I exulted in the sensations, the humming inside me started again.

I grunted bestially, and tried to raise my hips, but the weight of her leg forced me down onto the bed. She pressed down steadily, forcing whatever the invader was even deeper into me.

"i know you love that, too," she said, "That's why I'm going to be in charge of the controls. You can rely on me to make it feel good. Soon, you'll beg me to slide a greased butt-plug into you. Just like your wife begs."

I whimpered softly, partly because of the maddening buzzing inside my rectum, but mostly because I was thinking of my wife begging this woman to thrust a wide plastic cock inside into her arse. Was she so wanton? Did she really plead for her -- what? mistress? - to anally probe her?

And it didn't stop with that image. Here was I, considering exactly the same thing. I did want this woman to keep the vibrator inside me, while she treated me as her plaything. That knowledge extinguished what was left of my masculinity. I was her submissive plaything, and would follow humbly in the footsteps of my wife into total surrender. And my submission would outstrip hers -- at least she had been allowed to keep her gender.

"You'll be my frilly plaything," the woman continued, "I'll dress you like a mincing slut and have you bend over for my strapon cock whenever I feel like fucking that tight little arse of yours. You'll soon be used to the spankings I give you as I make you ride my stiff dick."

Her hands continued to roam over my silk-clad form. I was unable to stop her, but I wouldn't have tried to even if my hands had been free. Her stroking and nearness had lit a fire in me and her words were simply fanning the blaze. I writhed in ecstasy on her bed.

"Of course, in return you'll have to service me. But I don't want that filthy male cock inside me. Oh no, you'll have to do what your wife does and bring me off with your tongue. I'll ride your face, smothering you with my wetness while you please my clitoris with your lips. I wonder whether you or your wife are better at giving me oral sex?"

She chuckled softly in my ear and nuzzled against me. Her slim hand touched the waistband of my knickers. Her fingertips slid over the flimsy front panel, seeming to vibrate themselves as the humming waves of the butt plug passed through my abdomen.

"Perhaps we should have a contest. I'll bring your wife here and find out. She and I can take turns with you. One of us sat on your face while the other fucks that pretty little hole of yours. Would you like that, my pet?"

I was stiffer and hotter than I could ever remember. Surely my wife couldn't find me attractive while I was dressed in her lingerie? Wouldn't she be horrified? Or laugh at me? Once again, the blonde woman seemed to read my mind.

"I just know she'll love you like this, as I do. You have a gorgeous figure, and make a sexy little slut. She'll want to fuck you until you cum, spurting all over yourself and her. She's such a little fucking whore, and now she' going to have a twin. You'll be our boi slave -- and you'll love every second of it."

The butt plug began a regular pulsing that took my breath away. I was being pushed towards an earth-shattering orgasm by a woman whose name I didn't even know, clad in soft undergarments she'd made my wife wear before fucking her. And now I too was being fucked. Every nerve end in my body was on fire as she softly grasped my cock. Her palm and fingers were soft and cool against my raging hardon.

"This is what you want isn't it? To cum for me, the way I made your wife cum earlier. The two of you have been fucked in that outfit today, but I won't stop there. I'll have you as my feminised slave, dressing you in silk and satin and fucking you in front of your wife until you give in to the passion and spurt hot cum over her."

She shifted her leg over me until she was touching the head of my cock with her knee. She slowly, languorously humped my leg as her manipulation of my organ grew firmer. The plastic rod inside me sang out a decadent melody as I shifted and wriggled in her power.

But there was no escaping the pleasure. Her insistent wanking was bringing me closer, and the shame of my clothing only added to my rising need.

"Are you going to cum for me now, slut? Are you going to shoot your load for me? Feel the butt plug inside you. Mmmmm, I bet you're loving it, aren't you? Loving the hard cock inside you. Think how much better it will feel when I fuck you."

I cried out in pleasure, but the gag turned it into a muffled, animal grunt. I couldn't form words any more. My grunting matched the movement of her hand as she briskly jerked my cock. Her fingers traveled the length of my cock, well lubricated by now with my slippery pre-cum. The vibrations inside me fell into the same rhythm and I realised she must have a control in her other hand. The tip of my cock slid across her silky stockings, and I couldn't take it any more.

"There were go, slut. Cum now. Cum like your wife did in those clothes, dressed like a whore for me. Cum!"

Her command was all it took. I trembled momentarily, then stiffened completely as I strained against my bonds. Her hand didn't stop, and suddenly my balls contracted. My arse tightened around the plug, which only heightened the sensations it was feeding me. I started spewing cum all over myself. I felt splatters hit my thighs, the gap between my suspender belt and corset, and my bare upper chest. I was screaming into my gag with the overwhelming pleasure of it.

"I think I'm going to enjoy fucking my little slut," the blonde woman said. And as I revelled in the feminine bliss, with the butt plug deep inside me still throbbing, I realised I was going to enjoy it too.

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by cdCindy107/17/18

my dream fantasy

This is what I dream about and wish would truly happen with me and my wife. I love the line when he wakes up dressed in sexy clothes; "I was doll-like and feminine." That's me -- I love it when my Mistressmore...

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