All the lonely people Pt. 01

The thought came to Mrs Lix as she was driving home. The radio was playing "Eleanor Rigby". "All the lonely people, where do they all come from?" warbled a mop-topped Macca.

"There are." She said to herself, thinking of the people that she knew. Lots of single women, with just their vibe for company. A lot of them were happier that way, but still...

She said nothing to me though. Instead, she went to see her best friend, Karen. She and Karen go back years. They met at school, and Karen developed a reputation as an uninhibited, vivacious and popular girl. A wild child. A some time groupie, who was rumoured to have got skin to skin with quite a few talented and well known people, she now worked occasionally as a dominatrix. She and Mrs Lix could talk about anything.

Now Karen listened patiently as she explained her idea. She broke into a smile.

"That's such a hoot!" she said. "I know women that would pay a lot of money for something like that. If I didn't have Phil, I know I'd be interested. Hell! I might be interested anyway."

"How much money are we talking about?" asked Mrs Lix.

Karen named a figure.

"Per day?" asked Mrs Lix.

"Nah. Per hour." said Karen.

Mrs Lix did some calculating. "But that's..."

Her voiced trailed off. "Do you think you could put the word out, discreetly? In exchange for a share of the loot?"

Karen nodded. "I know quite a few people that would be interested I think." She nodded to herself thoughtfully, in her mind going through a list of the people she knew, selecting, rejecting. "When were you thinking of doing this?"

"I thought in a couple of weeks" said Mrs Lix. "Would that be enough time?"

==============

It's a special day! Wooo! I'm on a promise! Mrs Lix is going to treat me to some lixnix time.

It's probably worth explaining what Lixnix are. Put simply, you cut a hole in a pair of panties, and sew a ring gag into them. The happy sub is gagged with this gag/panties combo, and the gag is locked behind their head. This turns them into a sort of human sex toy, locked to the wearers crotch, until the wearer chooses to release them. It certainly works for me, and Mrs Lix likes to be licked. We make them for other people by arrangement, and we found that there's lots of scope for variety. One recent order was for a pair of underpants with the gag positioned over where the anus would be. Not my thing, but we're happy to provide something that helps others fulfil their fantasies.

And that's what we're doing today. I'm going to spend some time "being" her panties, I have a day off from my day job, and she's currently in the bath. It's a fine late morning in early Autumn, and I'm lying on my back, on a long low wooden box that we call "the coffin" with my hands fastened to a belt around my waist. It's comfortable enough, but I can't get my hands free. I did have a pretty impressive erection earlier, but with nothing much happening right now, that's subsided. Now I wait.

Then, after a while I hear the gurgle of water as she pulls the plug. A few minutes later she walks into the room, towelling her hair. Her skin is shiny with moisture and she rubs a towel over her body. Then she walks over to me. I get a fine view of her as she leans over me. She is smiling a lopsided smile.

"Ready?" she asks.

"Mmmm hmmm" I say, and she takes the nix out of her underwear drawer. She tells me to open my mouth, and inserts the gag. She pulls the straps tight around the back of my neck and buckles them. She shows me the small silver padlock, and reaches behind me. I hear a click. Now even if I could free my hands, I couldn't get loose. Not that I want to.

Normally when we do this, I lie on my belly on the bed, while she lies back, with her upper body propped up by pillows. I worry about having her full weight on me but she's thought of that. She's a talented seamstress, and now she brings out a big firm cushion. She's cut a head and neck shaped hole in it so it's now a sort of "C" shape. She fits this around my head. Then she walks out of the room, only to return moments later with what looks like the back of a directors chair. A broad strip of beige fabric with lengths of wood at either end.

"It's the back of a directors chair," she tells me. "I thought I'd need a backrest. Didn't you see the tubes?"

Tubes? No. I shook my head.

"Well you really should pay more attention," she scolds.

She'd screwed two metal tubes at an angle to the side of the coffin. She now put the wooden poles through them.

So now my face has become the seat of a chair as well. Mmmm. My cock stiffens at the realisation. Objectification is such a turn on.

She stands astride me, and lifts a leg, threading it through a leg hole. Her other leg follows suit, then as she lowers herself down, she pulls the nix up. Soon enough, she's sitting down and my face is snug against her. I have a fine view up her front. almost too close to focus, I can see the smooth satin front of the nix. Her face is partly hidden by her perky breasts. The inside of her thighs frame my vision to the left and right. They're still damp. She smells of soap with just a little of her natural womanly odour. I can feel her weight, but it's fairly comfortable. The cushion has helped to spread the load. She twists around and unfastens my hands. I scratch where I'd become itchy, then caress her buttocks.

I stick my tongue out, through the hole but she tells me not to and I stop. I do as I'm told when I'm in this position. Usually. Occasionally I can be a bit bratty, because I want her to punish me, but something in her tone tells me this is not the time for such antics. I stop kneading her buns too, laying my hands over my abdomen instead. Meanwhile she completely ignores me while she gets on with her post-bath routine. She dries her hair with a hairdryer, sending sporadic washes of warm air down to me. I love this stuff as much as I like the actual oral. A panties eye view of a woman just going about her normal business. While she wafts the hairdryer around, I relax and go towards sub-space.

After switching off the hairdryer, she brushes her hair. Long, and currently dyed a vivid purple. She has laid out some clothes on the bed next to the coffin and she gets dressed.

She puts on a bra backwards, hooking it at the front, then sliding it around to face the right way. She pulls it up, lifting her breasts, and pulls the straps up over her shoulders. The bra matches the nix. White satin, embellished with frothy lace. I'm part of a set. Then a suspender belt. This too is put on backwards and fastened then slid around to face the right way. She pulls the straps down, which pulls the front of the belt down too, causing the lace to brush against my upturned face.

Now she lifts her right leg and pulls up a stocking, which she hooks up to the fasteners on the belt. The leg comes back down and she repeats the process with her left leg.

She looks down at me and smiles.

"Are you OK down there?" she asks. I nod my head as best as I can. She finds this hilarious. "Do that again," she commands me. and laughs again.

A lacy satin slip comes next. She pulls it over her head, putting her arms through the thin straps and letting it slide liquidly down her body. Now all I can see is the front of her panties, and the inside of the slip. I can see through the satin fabric. It's like looking through frosted glass. She's become a shadow, a silhouette. I feel her shift her body and pick something up from the bed. This too goes over her head and is pulled down. A dress. Light and summery, and long enough to reach her knees. It's just got much darker, and has completely limited my view to the inside of her skirts.

More movement, then stillness. I'm still too. If she tells me to, I will start to pleasure her in any way I can, but she's not yet cancelled her command.

This then is my world for now. I have no idea what she's doing, although I can guess. I don't think she's applying make-up. She'd be moving around more, reaching for blusher, moving a hand mirror around. There's none of that. She might be reading a book, or her kindle. She might be playing some game on her tablet or surfing the internet. Once or twice she mutters something, but otherwise the only sound I can hear is the gurgling and burbling of her insides. Probably not a book then. I'd have heard the pages turn. Then I hear music and voices. Ah. She's watching videos. Youtube or something. Children laughing. A dog barking - a high pitched yip. More laughter. An American voice - woman, adult telling the children that she's got it all on her phone. More silence. Now I hear a ping. She has a text message. I hear and feel her tap out a reply, and this is followed by several more texts and responses. Good thing whoever it was didn't phone. I just would have had to misbehave and let my tongue loose.

Then suddenly, the skirt of the dress and the slip are pulled up. I squint and blink in the sudden daylight. Yes she's holding her tablet, which is now showing the familiar black and green layout of a porn site we like to watch sometimes.

"Get licking." she tells me. And I do.

She wriggles and gasps. Not from pleasure. It's just really ticklish at first. This subsides after a short while though, and I settle into a rhythm. She pulls the slip and dress back down, and my horizons narrow once again. I suppose she's watching porn. Between that and my tongue and nose bumping and rubbing away at her clit, things are starting to happen. This turns me on too, and my hands reach down to my erect and bobbing manhood.

Nope. She doesn't want me doing that. She fastens my hands to my sides again without saying a word. All the while things have been building. She's started to move her hips in time with my rhythm and I feel her hands on my head, through the dress and slip, controlling me, moving me, pulling and pushing. And suddenly she thrusts her pelvis forward and gasps. The taste and feel on my tongue changes. It has a metallic tang now. It's become more slippery too. My saliva is being supplemented by her juices.

She settles back in her seat with a sigh and I stop licking. There's a minute or so of stillness, then she puts her hands behind my head and pulls me close, grinding herself against me. Round two. I stick my tongue back in and carry on.

This happens twice more, then she seems satisfied. I expect her to free my arms now, and let me come, and indeed, she once again lifts up her skirts, but instead of releasing me, she puts a blindfold over my eyes. More stillness. this time in blackness. I think she's texting again. Yup. There's a response straight away.

And then.... The doorbell chimes.