A Touch Of Mink

I had no perception of how much time passed. I focused only on the sopping-wet cunt under my tongue and the huge, hot phallus in my ass. Sable shrieked and shuddered through I don't know how many orgasms. Nothing compared to the sudden flood of Derek's cum gushing into my nether parts. I came spontaneously, without even touching my limp little dick. My vision blurred. I felt faint. There was an intense roar in my ears. My whole existence turned upside-down, then faded to black.

When I awoke, Sable and I were alone in bed. She observed me intently, tenderly stroking my head with her long nails.

"There now," she cooed. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Sensing the irony of her words, she laughed softly.

I was devastated. I looked away, unable to meet her gaze. She placed two fingers under my chin and turned my face toward hers.

"You know what I meant."

I thought I did. My humiliation was complete. Before, I hadn't been much of a man. She had sought fulfillment in the arms – and loins - of other men. Now, I couldn't get it up at all. She had finally tired of the charade. I had beenfucked by one of my wife's lovers while she watched. Watched? She had dressed me in her own provocative fuckwear,orchestrated my debasement, then delighted in viewing the act up close and personal. My ass still burned from the reaming I had taken. My balls ached more now than they had before I came. Even my jaw was sore from having been stretched as much as it had.

This had to be our 'curtain call'; her way of telling me it was over between us, that she was leaving me for Derek or one of her other boy toys. I was crushed. On the one hand, I would suck it up, gather together as much dignity as I could, let her go and give her an equitable settlement. On the other hand… how could I go on without her? Even if she didn't leave right away, how could I livewith her, knowing what she had already done to me and was preparing to do? How could I face her?

Loving her as much as I did, how could I not?

For some perverted reason, my experience with Derek made me feel closer to my wife than ever before. If there was onlysome way to salvage our relationship! Making me feel less of a man had always been part of our games that gave pleasure to us both. I hadnever felt less of a man than at that moment, so what did I have to lose? I would do anything; humble myself, debase myself, lick her booted feet….

Her panting roused me from my reverie. I realized I had been lightly playing with her genital piercings while lost in thought. My unwitting ministrations had had the appropriate, though unintended effect. Sable's eyes were glazed over. She was tense, fidgeting, panting; all signs of her growing arousal. Ignoring the ache in my jaw, I lowered my face to her snatch and let my tongue take over for my finger.

I knew her 'triggers' so well; the pierced, hyper-sensitive clit, the 'triangle' piercing that set the nerve bundle behind her clit on fire, her G-spot, her super-sensitive pierced nipples. She even adored having me invade her rear with a finger while I was assaulting her pussy. I hit them all with my tongue, lips and fingertips, alternating between 'slow and gentle' and 'frenzied and hard'. I brought her close, then backed off. I did it again, then again. I took her right to the edge a fourth time, then held her there for what seemed like hours, not allowing her release. At the same time, I was toying with the puckered entrance to her nether region with one finger, teasing her with delights just beyond her reach. I knewI was getting incredibly aroused, regardless of my limp dick. This time, I was gonna make herbeg for it. Of course, that wasn't her nature.

"Youbitch," she hissed, almost incoherently. Do menow!"

With that, she jabbed one long, taloned finger into my ass. The effect was electrifying. I came immediately, lurching forward, jamming my mouth and tongue deeply into her pussy while jamming my own finger into her ass. Her back arched off the bed. Her scream started soft and low, rapidly rising in pitch and crescendo until it shook the walls. She thrashed back and forth frantically, screaming like there was no tomorrow. She just keptcoming! One hand clutched the sheet tightly. The other pounded my ass spasmodically with that single, marvelous digit. If I hadn't been so stretched out the night before, that talon would have ripped me to shreds. As it was….

It took a long, long time for us to come down from that one. Sable grabbed my head in both hands, pulled me next to her, and held me tightly, still gasping for air.

"I'm not even gonna ask what brought that on," Sable gasped. "Just… thank you. That wasthe best ever."

Damn straight! Would any of your stallions pay as much attention to your pleasure? Would they even try?

She became aware of the wet spot on the sheet beneath her thighs. She reached down with one hand and swiped up a wad of creamy white goo. The look on her face was one of pure enchantment.

"You came?" she inquired. "Just from me fucking your ass?"

"That," I admitted, "and the thrill of makingyou cum like a house on fire."

She held her palm up to my face.

"Lick it up," she commanded. "Make it nice and clean."

With slow, soft laps, I cleaned every trace of cum from her hand, then cleaned up the remains of the spot on the sheet. The gentle touch of her nails stroking my scalp was all the reward I needed.

When I had completed my task, I cuddled up next to her once more.

"You are one in a million," she intoned, shaking her head in amazement. Then, her features adopted a more serious expression.

"Sugar, we have to talk," she began carefully. "Actually, I have a confession to make. Our whole relationship…"

Uh-oh. Don't say it. Quick, think of something before she drops the hammer! I gently placed one finger to her lips, halting her in mid-sentence.

"Stop," I blurted out. "I know what you were going to say. I will agree to whatever you want to do. I love you that much."

"Youknow?" she asked incredulously. "How? We were so careful not to let you find out, not to upset you, until we weresure…"

This train wreck is leaving the track in a hurry. I've got to act fast.

"I just know, OK? I'm notstupid. I've seen it coming for a while now. It won't be easy – for either of us – but I can still make you happy. I just proved that. I want what you want, and will do whatever it takes, as long as we love each otherand stay together."

Sable sighed deeply and shook her head in disbelief. She kissed me passionately, grinding her pussy into my crotch. Even with such an overt, intense stimulus, my little cock remained limp as a noodle.Traitor! OK, Bud; I'll find some way to make this work without your help. My lover released our lip lock. Her eyes gleamed and she had the most bewitching, seductive smile I had seen in a long time. There might be a chance for us yet….

"That is such a relief!" my lover intoned earnestly. "I was really worried how this might turn out. It could have been so… well, never mind. OK, Baby, we will work through this –together. You are right; itwon't be easy for either of us, but especially for you. I'm sure you realize there will have to be some big,big changes in our relationship. I have some ideas that will make the best of it – forboth of us. In fact, if you just give it a chance, it might bethe best ever. I don't want to go into too much detail right now. The whole thing might be too overwhelming for you to take all at once. I promise: if you trust me,believe in me, and do what I want you to do,however hard it may be to accept, we will be together for a long, long time."

YESSSSSSS!!!!! The tenor of her words confirmed, in my mind, she would be 'entertaining' more than ever. I could not yet tell how my level of participation would change. Would it be more, or less? At least she was not going to leave me - yet. We could move forward from there.

Sable didn't waste any time initiating her 'changes'. First, she shaved my body baby-smooth – even the baby-fine, thinning blonde hair on my head. A lacy double-D-cup bra filled with foam falsies, bikini panties, stockings and ultra-high heels became a daily fixture in my sartorial splendor. Instead of a garter belt, my stockings were affixed to the garters of a steel-boned lace-up corset. As a final reminder of my new status, she required me to use and enema bag and nozzle to flush my 'pussy' clean and sweet every morning, then fill myself with a large, lubricated butt plug.

In the past, I had never made any secret of my appreciation for Sable's style. Drama was her special gift, one she had no qualms about flaunting in the vanilla world around us. Her makeup had always been the perfect sultry, seductive compliment to her hair, clothing, and body. She decreed that would be one more thing we would share.

"You've always been so complimentary of my 'look', Sugar," my winsome wife purred appreciatively. "I guess all those 'understated' White girls bore you to death, huh? Well, guess what? Now you have the chance to get up close and personal with what makes me, me. I'm gonna make it my personal mission to makemy style,your style."

Sauce for the goose….

It became difficult to read my wife's true emotions. She developed almost a schizoid attitude towards me. At times, she seemed affectionate enough. She addressed me with terms of endearment like "Baby", "Sugar", and "Honey", just as she always had. It felt subtly different, though, as if she related to me in a different way. At other times, she was like a complete stranger – or perceived me as one. She demanded changes in my behavior and attitude, driving me to become more and more feminine in movement, speech and attitude with each passing day.

Did I say acomplete stranger? I may have misspoken. There had beenanother facet to my wife's personality once, one that sent a cold chill down my spine. During her 'working girl' days, certain of her regulars had wanted, needed more than a blowjob or quick, anonymous fuck. For them, there had beenMistress Diabolique. Early in our relationship, before she had retired from The Life, I had had occasion to meet that Queen Bitch – and had never forgotten her.

***

I had been with my lover all afternoon. It had been one of those magic times in any relationship when both just knew it wasright. We had spent the time holding hands, touching, kissing, gazing into each other's eyes. Evening was approaching when Sable told me she had a 'session' that night and had to get ready for it. I knew what that meant.

As my lover had become more comfortable with me, she had become more and more open about her life and profession, to the point of revealing her dominatrix alter ego. Even so, she had gone to great lengths to exclude me from that part of her life. I felt that was wrong, that we should be able to shareeverything. I had never had experience with that scene and was fascinated with the prospect. This time, I asked if I could stay with her while she prepared for the scene. She started to speak, then hesitated. I could tell she was torn between her deepening feelings for me and fear of… what, I could not tell. Finally, she acquiesced.

"Just be cool about it, 'kay?" she had admonished. "This shit isintense. Iget intense to psyche myself up for it. It isn't about us; it's about the scene. Remember that."

I sat spellbound as she transformed herself into the Leather Bitch Diabolique. I hate to admit it now, but that was one of the most intensely arousing moments of my life. If she had favored an overdone look before, it seemed a daytime look compared to the intensely-heavy makeup she applied for that night's 'date'. I have never, before or since, been as rock-hard as I was as I beheld her in all her leather-clad glory. I didn't realize she was getting herhead into that extreme role, even as she adorned her body and painted her face. In effect, she had become a completely different person in more than just appearance.

With reluctance, I realized I had to say good night and leave her to her appointed work. I made the mistake of spontaneously embracing her from behind and kissing the side of her face, as I had dozens of times before when leaving her. The force of the resulting blow bounced me off the opposite wall. She pounced on me in an instant, raining blows down on me with her flogger. The impact of her profanity-laced invective, screamed in my face from inches away, was even more hurtful.

"How dare you touch me without first asking permission?" she had shrieked insanely. "Whatever possessed a sniveling worm like you to eventhink I desired a show of endearment, as though you were myequal?" At that moment, I was genuinely afraid of her. Somehow, I broke free of her and fled.

I had stayed away from Sable for a whole month, making no attempt to contact her. The physical blows had healed quickly. The blow to my ego was a different story. I wasn't sure which hurt more; that, or the long, lonely time without her. At last,she had soughtme out, confronting me face-to-face. She had apologized profusely, tears streaming down her cheeks. It had all been part of her 'game face', she reiterated, and had nothing to do with us personally. She reminded me she had warned me how intense Domination was for her; that was why she hadn't wanted me around during those times. She would make it up to me, and more, if I would just,please, find it in my heart to forgive her…. To prove her intentions, she gave up hooking and moved in with me. We were married soon after. I hadn't seen 'Diabolique' since – but never forgot her.

***

I believed I was seeing her now. She addressed me as "Pussy Boy", just as she had that Saturday night when she had had Derek take my 'cherry'. The words had a cold, peremptory edge to them, just as they would have had for her submissive supplicants years before. This taskmistress brooked neither disobedience nor disrespect. She demanded my most sincere effort and accepted nothing less. I shuddered at the thought 'Diabolique' had returned, and that our re–defined relationship would now be modeled along those lines. Was this all a new and decidedly darker version of the same game we had always played? Was it a game at all? Which persona was reality? Which was affectation? Was there a difference? The scariest question of all was: did Idread the prospect – orembrace it?

The changeswere difficult to accept. Oh, I could accept her demand to feminize me – but so quickly, so completely? It was a trial to have to make such a radical change seemingly overnight. Her words haunted me:It is going to happen anyway. If you resist, you will just make it hurt more. In this new context, they took on a much more sinister connotation. I surrendered myself to her ministrations and worked as hard as I could to please her, make her desires my new reality. I sensed a profound loss of that special emotional intimacy we had once enjoyed. I felt her slipping away from me – perhaps into the embrace of another? A promise is a promise; if this is what it took to keep her love – even a pale semblance of it….

I had just crossed the living room floor for the umpteenth time, trying to master the art of walking gracefully in six-inch heels. She had always made it look so effortless. I had found out it was anything but.

"Do it again, Pussy Boy," she barked. "That don't work for me. Keep your head up, back straight, shoulders back. Roll that boo-tay for me. Y'all shouldflow like a wave on th' ocean."

It just wasn't coming. I was trying so hard to do it right, to please her. The whole thing was all so frustrating!

"Yes, Mistress," I muttered.

"What did you say?"

"Yes Mistress," I said with more conviction.

Silence. Then, she was on me in a flash. She placed both hands atop my shoulders and pushed down, hard. My knees hit the bare, hardwood floor with athump. I rested the palms of my hands on my stockinged thighs and stared at the floor, not daring to move. She cupped my chin in her right hand and lifted my head, until my eyes met hers. The cold glint I saw there belied the bemused smile on her lips.

"Say it again," she intoned slowly, with conviction, "like you mean it."

"Yes,Mistress Diabolique," I replied, with all the sincerity I could muster. "I am sorry I displease you. I will work harder to get it right."

She continued to behold me, silently. Her steely stare and hard countenance made me feel small, like a laboratory specimen. When she spoke, it was with a soft, matter-of-fact conviction that chilled me to the bone.

"Good. Weunderstand each other. Now, understandthis. You aregoing to learn how to walk in heels. You aregoing to learn how to move, sit, speak, act in every way like a woman. You aregoing to become feminine in every way possible. When I tell you to do something, you aregoing to complyimmediately. When I address you, you aregoing to respond: 'Yes, Mistress,' just as you did before. Do you understand me, Pussy Boy?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"And you will obey my every command, satisfy my every desire, indulge my every whim?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good boy! You have pleased your mistress. Now, please her again. Eat my pussy!"

"Yes, Mistress."

***

From that day on, she dressed, acted, lived the part of 'Mistress Diabolique'. It was deeply disturbing – and compelling – to behold the leather bitch again in all her glory. My body felt crushed within the constricting embrace of the corset. I was dangerously unsteady on my skyscraper stilts at first. Mistress drove me, hour after hour, day after day, teaching me how to balance myself and take shorter, surer steps, placing the heel of my lead foot in line with the toe of my trailing foot. If she perceived me giving anything less than my absolute best effort, I tasted her lash and suffered her verbal abuse.

Make no mistake; ithurt to walk in those extreme skyscraper stilts all day. Mistress introduced me toOxycontin to relieve the pain. Oh, yeah! It did a lot more than that. I felt like I was floating across the room. My taskmistress showed me how swiveling my hips, as women do, was not only a natural result of walking in heels, it actually made the process smoother, more graceful-looking. She even set up a full-length mirror in the living room to make it possible for me to see myself as I practiced in my towering heels.

We worked at it all day, every day. 'Sable' came out to play at night. She entertained her other men frequently. I was 'on loan' to her from Mistress. Instead of being the wimp husband tied to a chair, watching, I was the heavily-made-up slut in corset, stockings and heels who sucked Sable's lovers to full erection again and again, cleaned their cocks and her pussy after each use, then was fucked into a stupor.

Through it all, I cooperated without complaint. I felt the part, too. By that time, my nipples were really sensitive and fully erect. The chest area around my nipples had become fleshy and distended, too. Sable looked on appreciatively, calling me her little cum sponge, noting what a good little fuck toy I was becoming, and what a thrill it was to watch me blossom into a sordid little slut. You know what? I began tobelieve it.

By the last Thursday of the month, my body was adjusting to the crushing constriction of the corset. I was noticeably steadier in my footing, too. Watching myself strut back and forth across the room, I could actually see myself moving like a woman. My hips swayed without conscious effort!