Choices Ch. 01

Chapter 1

The Set-Up

My little sexual, I don't know, perversions, fetishes, twists on the normal, has never been exposed, displayed, nor shared...period. It never hurts anyone or affects my interaction with daily life (though it probably has contributed to my difficulty developing relationships). It is one of the few absolute secrets I have kept from the world. I'm a sado-masochistic ass-man and I've had a submissive fascination and attraction for wearing women's undergarment for almost as long as I can remember.

It isn't only the clothes, but what they are enclosing; the primal tactile sensual ecstasy promised by that in which they are in direct contact with. It's the goal; the place for which to strive; the source of envy at my inadequacy and inability to have or possess. It's the place I yearn to immerse myself into.

I harmlessly indulge my little perversion by stealing panties from female friends and acquaintances; preferably well used panties, especially if the owners are attractive. If I go to a party, if at all possible, I check out the laundry hampers. I never go into someone's closets or bureaus. That would be going too far. It's personally easier to rationalize if it is only dirty laundry I pursue when the opportunity presents itself but it still makes me a perverted panty thief...I'm ok with that.

I've managed to collect about a dozen pair and can recall the faces and shapes of the women who wore them. I frequently wear them, nearly every day actually, and wash them when they become, shall we say, a bit crusty. I've also made some on-line purchases so I can really dress up. I have two skirts, several blouses, a few dresses, and some prosthetic breasts that I bought from a site for transvestites, but I was too paranoid to do much on line shopping. I let my hair grow past my shoulders, ostensibly as an act of general defiance, but in reality, to better fantasize. Wearing women's undergarments is as close as I ever get to dressing in public. Then it's all about my imagination when I see a beautiful woman and fantasize. It's the slightly dangerous edginess that heightens my erotic feelings. I suppose I became overconfident or, perhaps, wanted to get caught. I don't know.

I went to a New Years party at the flat of a co-worker. Cynthia is a single, very successful, attractive woman with nice size breasts, a slender waste and a slightly disproportionately wide butt that drove me to distraction. It wasn't too big, you know, not a bubble butt. She was tight and firm with legs that go all the way up but wide. The slender waste blossoming smoothly from the flared hips swaying in the clingy dresses she sometimes wore tweaked my groin and made my imagination run in some of the most bizarre directions I had ever explored. She was successful because she naturally assesses peoples body language and voice characteristics, enabling her to spot lies or misdirection.

The party was reasonably well attended and the flowing alcohol made a short line for the use of her bathroom. I really had to go and asked if she had another one I could prevail upon to her to allow me to utilize. She led me through her bedroom to her private bath where, to my joy, I saw her laundry hamper. I quickly did my business and rooted through soiled cloths. Finding a pair of hot-pink panties, I raised them to my face, inhaling the feminine odors, lightly perfumed with musky overtones. It was lovely. A noise outside the door brought me short. I stuffed them into my pocket and returned to the party.

I enjoyed particularly pleasant orgasms fantasizing with those panties and life went along fine until about four months later. I won the lottery. One would think that would solve a lot of issues and, of course, it did. I owed nobody anything and if I wanted something, it was no issue. Naturally, I chose to retire and, to my surprise, Cynthia volunteered to have a celebration party at her flat. I volunteered to pay for catering and clean-up afterwards (after all, I just hit it big) and the date was set.

The party was a success. There was, once again, an opportunity (not unintentional) to use her private bathroom and thus check out her soiled undies. Right on top sat a pair of bright red panties. I couldn't believe my luck. They were quite obviously well used. The entire crotch was stiff with dried body fluids and there were long, brown skid marks along gusset. I couldn't help myself. It seemed highly unlikely that I would continue associating with my former co-workers, so I snatched them.

They went into my pocket. I couldn't keep my hand from them. It was always migrating to my pocket. Continuous fondling of the satiny panties totally distracted me for the rest of the evening. Pathetic and sick, isn't it?

That night I slobbered all over those panties, licking them nearly clean in the process. I imagined my nose in her pussy and my tongue in her ass for hours. I finally, and quite suddenly, shot my load clear to my chin. It was fantastic.

Two days later Cynthia called and invited me to her flat to settle the party bills. Once again, I couldn't help myself. I wore those panties. The thought of being right there conversing with the beautiful Cynthia (with whom I had zero chance) while her satiny panties that had caressed her pussy and ass just a short time past were clinging to my raging cock was simply irresistible.

She greeted me at the door wearing a thin, clinging, red nylon strap dress and medium black heels. She looked very hot. I had some trouble keeping my eyes someplace safe. I was also acutely aware of her panties covering my semi-erect cock.

We settled our business and I was about stand to leave when she said;

Please wait, I think I have another issue to discuss. It's in your interest to sit and hear something. Something I have discovered about you...A dirty...perverted...little...secret."

"I am, by nature," she continued, "a rather methodical person, so, after the New Years party, I noticed something rather curious. I specifically noted that the last thing I threw into the hamper was a blouse...the hamper had been ruffled...jostled...as if being searched. As I sifted through the clothes, I found my pink panties were on gone. Since you were the only other person in that room that evening, it could only have been you. You stole my panties, didn't you?"

Total body blush. My breathe stopped cold. My insides felt as if they had shrunk to nothing; a humiliated, truly gutless, dizzying, hollow pit.

"Did you enjoy them?"

I swallowed hard.

"At first I was disgusted." She continued. "But after a bit of consideration, I decided to do a bit of research to find out more about your little...perversion. It was very, shall we say, enlightening. As I learned, I reflected on your general behavior, recognizing a number of situation dependent behavior and character traits and deduced additional probable sexually motivated behaviors and deviations in which you likely indulge. I was very...very...thorough. It was during my research that I decided to set you up. As soon as I had that thought I became aroused. It confused me at first, but I soon realized that I wanted you under my will. I wanted to watch you writhe in embarrassed pain...begging for my attention. At your party I deliberately left those red panties in full view, with absolute certainty that you wouldn't be able to pass them up. "

She moved close to me, face to face her feminine scent filling my senses. Her breath gently wafted over my neck. "I think you and I are going to need to talk...a great deal."

She turned and moved away, slowly pacing the room.

"Considering the time and effort you forced me to spend, plus the fact that you stole from me, it seems that I am entitled to answers. I think you had better answer any question I ask with absolute detailed truth or I'll call the cops. That will bring reporters that are desperate for some kind of copy...they'll love this and make such noise about your thievery that you won't be able to go into public without someone pointing at you, laughing. Plus, you'll be classified as a sexual predator. We both know it's harmless but that isn't the point. It may only be your word against mine, but people don't want the truth. They always want to believe the worst, so, the truth doesn't really matter now, does it?

Remember...I have done my homework. You will need to convince me you are being truthful. I will have the truth from you... all of it. If I feel you are lying, I call the police. I will ask...you will answer. Agreed?

What could I do? I nodded a yes, dropping my gaze to my feet.

Standing just inches in front of me, with two fingers under my chin lifting my eyes to hers, "I would hear you say it!" she demanded.

"Yes...I agree" I responded quietly.

"Good," she said with a wry smile. "Now tell me...did you masturbate with my panties."

I was burning with embarrassment, "Yes." I couldn't believe it...my cock was rapidly swelling; the satiny panties sliding sensuously against my growing tool.

"What did you do with them?"

"I wore them over my face for your scent, then stuffed the crotch in my mouth."

"Did the taste excite you?"

"Yes"

"Then what?"

"I fantasized that you made me eat your ass until I finally ejaculated."

"Interesting." she continued. "I wore them for five days and I wasn't very thorough when I cleaned myself. I masturbated in them daily. I repeatedly soaked the entire crotch with cum. The last day I peed through them and set them aside to dry...and you sucked them up. My...you certainly are a potty-mouth little panty-perv, aren't you?"

"Yes" I answered dropping my gaze to the floor.

"Do you have a panty collection?"

"Yes."

"How often do you wear them?"

"Nearly every day"

"Does your little sissy-clit get all hard when you wear women's clothes?" she asked, pitching her voice and enunciation as if asking an infant.

"Yes." I responded, the heat of my humiliation burning red from my body, my cock now grossly deforming the smooth front profile of the shiny panties.

"And does your pussy-ass twitch and squeeze while you play with yourself?"

"Yes."

"Are you wearing panties now?"

Oh shit!! They're hers I couldn't answer. My crimson face was answer enough.

"Well, well. You're a little panty-sissy-perv too, aren't you?"

"Yes." I whispered, again blushing furiously, the humiliation making my head swim.

She moved behind my seat and bent down speaking in a relaxed, confident soft voice:

"Did you do any dating in high school?"

"No, not really.

"Details!" she demanded.

"I was always too tongue-tied and self conscience in school. I would watch for opportunities, ,,for some way to socially approach a girl, but, because of my own insecurities the process always wound up taking so long that they, inevitably, were with some other guy."

"What about now?"

"I don't do much socializing with the opposite or even same sex, outside my fantasies. I go out and do things, but always as part of the general group. I don't have anyone specific."

"So then, how do you, shall we say, amuse yourself?"

"I've managed to accumulate some under things on-line and, as you seem to have discovered, by stealing. I dress up and usually abuse myself until I finish it off by hand. The fantasies are sometimes bizarre."

"What kind of abuses are we talking about?"

"Ball-stretching, genital binding, self-paddling, nipple clamping, scrotum clips; but usually nothing applied severely. One time I used a curved carpet needle to pierce my scrotum."

"Hmmm."

She stood; quiet for a moment.

"Stand up."

She came to stand in front of me.

"Loosen your belt."

I was taken aback. What does she want?

Blushing furiously, butterflies warring in my stomach, I could only bring myself to diddle my belt buckle.

"I want to see." And she deftly un-did the buckle, unhooked my pants, undid my fly and let them drop to my ankles.

My humiliation was absolute. The one thing I couldn't tell anyone was fully exposed; literally as well as figuratively in all it's panty-stretching glory.

She slowly circled me, smiling. I could see the realization that the panties barely covering my raging erection were hers. Her smile became smug and calculating. My entire body was flushed the color of my/her panties in total humiliation.

"Get on your knees; hands behind you." I went down.

She came to stand a few feet in front of me. Turning, she began to slowly hike up her skirt exposing her over-ripe panty covered ass.

"Chin up."

As I lifted my face, her glorious seat of dreams flooding my vision, she bent over, backed herself up to me and planted my nose on the deep cleft of her ass; her panties conforming to her shape as my nose pressed against her anus. She wiggled her butt until my mouth was pushing the panties against her asshole. My dick was screaming for attention.

"Open your potty mouth." she demanded.

She let one rip directly into my mouth. It was forceful enough to fill my mouth and push well up into my nose. I nearly gagged at the taste of it but quickly suppressed the reflex. My cock was raging hard at the degradation of it all.

She grabbed my head, pulling me hard into her ass and ripped another. I was dizzy with sexual excitement and sensation overload.

She stepped away dropping her dress and turned toward me, gazing at my crotch.

"I think it is clearly evident that you are tremendously turned on, isn't it?"

It was pointedly evident.

"Yes." I acknowledged.

She smoothly hiked her dress up again and slowly removed her panties, letting Her dress drape down before exposing anything. She held them up, holding them open so I could see the inside. There were significant skid-marks, obvious pee stains and the entire crotch was thickly wet. Mute testament of her arousal.

"See how thoughtful I am? I prepared these just for you. Does this excite you too?"

"Yes." I sighed softly, eyes focussed longingly at her panties.

She held them against my nostrils.

"Smell them."

I breathed deep her musky sexually charged body odors. The sensual experience was nearly overwhelming.

"Do you want to taste them?"

"Please." I breathed huskily.

She draped her panties over my head, positioning them over my nose. Her scent was intoxicating. I could feel her wetness over the entire crotch. Rich female odors overlaying the smells of pee and the scent of her ass drove crotch-straining need to my entire body. I quivered in total sensual excitement.

Open your mouth.

As I complied, she pushed the shit stain onto my tongue, rubbing it thoroughly over my taste-buds. Pushing deeply into my throat eliciting a little gag. My hard penis was twitching, begging to be stimulated, precum darkening the red panties. I was absolutely lost to her. At that moment, I wanted it no other way.

"Do you like my well used panties?"

I mumbled through the fabric in my mouth.

"I'll assume that was a yes."

Pulling the panties from my mouth, she turned, slowly pacing the room.

"Do you think you are ready for the things I want to do to you?"

My God, this can't be happening. I never, in my wildest dreams, actually believed an opportunity like this would ever be presented to me.

"Yes." I whispered.

"You don't even know my intentions yet you yield. I will give you time to thoroughly consider this. I will leave for two hours. If this truly be your choice then you will go to the guest bathroom and prepare yourself per the written instructions you will find there."

She retrieved a purse and sweater from the closet and walked out the door.

The Note:

If you want to serve me, you must understand that your submission is complete. There is no argument. There is no arbitration. There is no option.

Know this. I want to hurt you; a little at a time for a long, long time. I want to humiliate you; make you do degrading things; disgusting things. Every inch of your body is mine. Every opening is subject to my desire, inspection, probing, or special attention.

You may wish to look at this as an experiment in human behavior. I have a curious sexual itch to scratch and an unquenchable need to know. It will arouse me to keep you aroused as I do things to you; to deny you or reward you as pleases me. It is a sexual need for me to use sexual desire to push you into willing submission; willing compliance with increasingly obscene and bizarre acts; an accomplice to your own subjugation and abuse; begging for it.

I will be sexually monogamous with you. I will not disfigure you but I will give you exquisite pain.

Please me; be exquisitely, if painfully, rewarded. Displease me; be painfully punished.

This is the proverbial point of no return.

You will shower.

Clean yourself inside and out.

Use the depilatory on all of your body except your head.

Shave twice.

Dress in the clothes I have laid out in the guest room.

Kneel by the front door and wait until I return.

We will speak about the future then.

Or:

Since you openly answered my questions, you can go. I will no longer acknowledge you. You will no longer exist to me and my secrecy is inviolate.

It's your choice.

I looked around room. Enema equipment, depilatory and other feminine accoutrements needed to fulfill her will were all there.

It's my choice. Step blindly into sexually driven submissive oblivion or return to lonely fantasy-filled self abuse. I had to consciously slow my breathing. I was becoming dizzy, the world spun in excited anticipation. My cock was outrageously stiff. I desperately wanted to touch my hard cock, but I just couldn't. If I were to cum now I would run out the door in panic.

As I finished that thought, I realized it was acknowledgement that I already made my choice...now execute!

Applying the depilatory was, basically, a rite of passage. As I spread the cream over my body the pit in my stomach made my head swim again. This is it. I closed my eyes and drove forward.

Precisely ninety minutes after she left, the key in her door signaled her return. I was on my knees, dressed in a prosthetic breast-filled bra, open-bottom girdle with garter straps, her used panties, nylons, and high heeled shoes. My hair was, I thought, arranged artfully over my bare shoulders.

The pit in my stomach was nearly debilitating. My cock was bulging of the front of the shear nylon panties, testament to my impending exposure; my girdle constricting my torso in erotic confinement. The nylons felt slinky against the panties as I knelt.

The door opened.

She walked to the couch depositing her package and removed her dress, dropping it to the floor: not bothering to acknowledge my presence. She wore a black lightly-boned, red trimmed corset that barely contained her ample, but not over-large breasts, dark gray nylons held by the corset straps, and matching black panties. She removed a medium vibrating dildo and a pin-pong paddle from one of the bags, sat down on the couch and said "Come."

I crawled to her feet.

"You are mine. Your goal in life is to please me. You are my personal servant; my slave; my object, my what ever I want you to be. My satisfaction is your life. You will assist me to eat, bath, dress, pee, shit, fart, or anything else that comes to my mind. You will follow me wherever I go in this apartment, performing your function and doing my bidding without hesitation. While serving me, you will dress only in women's underclothes. I will take great pleasure in correcting any errors you may make and I assure you, I will be sure to arrange many mistakes. In fact, you must make amends for stealing my panties.

She maneuvered the vibrator into her panties against her pussy and directed me over her lap. She began gently caressing my panty-covered ass; deftly tracing the crack with her fingers until she came to my scrotum. She grasped a hand full of skin and cloth, squeezing, her nails digging into the sensitive panty covered region, pulling and twisting. I squirmed on her lap. My cock was raging hard. I was desperate for direct stimulation, pushing my satin-imprisoned member into her lap. My efforts were rewarded with a sharp crack as the paddle smacked against my butt.