Inadvertent Wish

Copyright oggbashan January 2022

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

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My girlfriend Sandra was standing beside her bed watching me struggle futilely. She was giggling.

"You shouldn't have wished for it, Alan. I'm enjoying it, even if you aren't."

I couldn't reply. I was gagged.

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Last Saturday night we had returned to my London flat after attending an engagement party. We were both drunk and the cold air during the four-hundred-yard walk had made our condition worse. We weren't ready for bed even though it was the early morning. Sandra often stays in my flat whenever we go to an event in London.

Sandra had borrowed my laptop to check her emails. She called me over to look at a video clip one of her girlfriends had sent her. It was a video of a man having sex with two curvaceous black women. The friend had said:

"He looks like your ex-boyfriend Greg. I don't think he is, but he could almost be a twin."

He wasn't Greg but the likeness was uncanny. Sandra and I had met again about three months after she dumped him, or as she had put it 'escaped from him'. He had been a controlling bastard and frequently used bondage on Sandra. She wouldn't have objected if he had observed a safe word or action, but he didn't. He would let her decide on those but then wait a long time after she wanted the bondage to end.

She had chosen me as a complete contrast to Greg. I was happy to let her do whatever she wanted to do when she wanted. We too did bondage, but it was mutual. Sometimes she would be tied up; sometimes I would be. But both of us observed safe words and actions meticulously. We trusted each other.

Sandra and I had been aware of each other all our lives. My parents were shopkeepers in the village convenience store and Post Office. Sandra and her parents had been in the shop several times a week. I went to university a year before she went to an agricultural college. At Christmas in my first year, I helped out in the shop. The next Christmas my mother was recovering from a hip operation and Sandra had helped in the shop too.

Sandra worked for the next two Christmases too and we found that we enjoyed working together, but Greg was her boyfriend at the time. We were never more than fellow workers who liked each other. Sandra would sometimes moan about Greg but with no specifics. If she had said exactly what Greg was doing to her, I might have beaten him up.

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On that website we had been looking at last weekend there were other suggested videos in a sidebar. We looked at some of them idly until Sandra clicked on one. It showed a cross-dressed man being tied up by a woman and then being left to struggle helplessly on a bed as she walked away.

That was when I said something stupid. My excuse was that I was drunk but the consequences? I had said:

"I wish I knew what that is like? He seems to be enjoying it."

At the time Sandra didn't comment. But she remembered it.

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On the following Saturday morning I had driven to Sandra's parents' farmhouse in the country about sixty miles from London.

Her parents were borrowing my flat on Saturday night because they were going to London show in the West End to celebrate a wedding anniversary. They would milk the cattle on Saturday morning. I would help with the cattle on Saturday evening and Sunday morning. I wouldn't have to do much. There were other farmworkers. I might be needed to gather up the dairy cows and shepherd them to the milking parlour.

After the evening meal we had both showered and were looking forward to an evening and night of uninterrupted sex in Sandra's large four poster bed. But as we got ready for bed Sandra reminded me of what I had said last Saturday.

"Alan? Remember that video? You said you wished to know what it would be like to be cross-dressed and tied up helpless? Now you are going to find out."

I might have protested but Sandra's kiss distracted me. I hadn't noticed before but there were female clothes spread across her bed. Within minutes Sandra had spread a large towel across the bed and was shaving my legs. She was very gentle. I wasn't worried. That hair would grow back soon. She cleaned my legs with a wet flannel and then dried them.

She eased a pair of blue satin panties up followed by sheer pantyhose. I hadn't appreciated how sexy pantyhose could be on hairless legs. She got me to stand up before fitting a long open bottomed corselette over my body. She stuffed the bra cups with rolled panties before closing the zip.

"There you are, Alan. You have some shape. But you need to be transformed still."

Sandra pulled a long white slip down my body, followed by a calf length blue sheath dress. It was a tight fit, especially getting my hands and arms in the long sleeves. The last time I remembered Sandra wearing it had been in the first couple of weeks after we became girlfriend and boyfriend. She was on a diet because she had gained weight while with Greg because of comfort eating.

At the time I had been slightly frustrated because it covered so much of her. It was high-necked, sleeved, and the skirt was tight around her thighs before splaying below her knees. It was lined with blue silk. Inside it I felt it slither against my skin and it clamped my thighs together.

"Your hands don't look right. Gloves will cover them."

Sandra added elbow-length white satin gloves. They buckled at the wrists. Once they were buckled there was no way I could get them off.

"You are partly cross-dressed, Alan, but you wanted bondage as well. Lie on the bed."

Sandra produced a bundle of old pantyhose she had been saving to stuff a cushion. She tied one pair around my waist and wrists. Another pair went below the fake bust and tied my elbows. I couldn't move my arms from my sides.

She added more pantyhose around my ankles, and pushing the dress up, above my knees. She pulled the dress down to over that tie.

"So far so good, Alan, but before we go any further, we need a safe word and action. OK?"

I nodded. I was too excited to speak. I had never seen Sandra this controlling in our previous bondage sessions.

"The safe word is 'cow'. You can use that anytime we're together. Unless you say it now, in a few minutes you won't be able to. Do you want to say it, Alan?"

I shook my head. Sandra sat on the bed beside me. Her hand stroked my cheek.

"What does it feel like, so far?" She asked.

"You know I liked our previous bondage sessions, Sandra. I enjoyed being helpless and giving control to you because I trust you. I enjoyed being your victim. But this is different. I'm wearing some of your underwear, hugged by the corselette, and held tightly by your dress. It almost feels as if I have penetrated you fully, or that you have surrounded me completely. I'm inside Sandra far more than I have ever been, and it feels fantastic."

"You don't feel as if you want to be a woman?"

"No Sandra. I feel as if I have surrendered to you, and you have tied me up inside your clothes. I'm still a heterosexual man who has been captured and forced inside you."

"OK. The permanent safe action is to raise both legs, hold them in the air until you count to three, lower them again and repeat twice more. Got that?"

"Yes, Sandra."

"Do it now. Show me."

I raised and lowered my legs three times.

"Well done, Alan. From now on you won't be able to use the safe word."

Sandra moved to sit at the edge of the bed. Before I knew what she intended, she had pulled off her panties and stuffed then in my mouth. They were normal white cotton maxi panties with so much material that she had to push them deeper with her fingers. She picked up a silk scarf from the bed, knotted it in the middle and pushed the knot after the panties before tying the scarf around my head. I tried to speak through the gag. There was too much tightly secured in my mouth to make more than a quiet grunt.

Sandra folded another silk scarf into a triangle and covered my head with it normally. She crossed it under my chin and tied it at the back before pushing the end of the triangle behind the knot. She pulled at the two sides framing my face until just my nose and some of my eyes were visible. I was blinkered and could only see straight ahead of me.

"There, Alan. You are now almost completely confined in women's clothing. You can't get free, you can't speak, and you can't see much. If I do this...?"

Sandra picked up another scarf and repeated the tying process but the other way around. My face was sheathed in silk, smelling Sandra's perfume. I was aware of some light but couldn't see anything. Sandra straddled my chest and moved up before she dragged her skirt over my face. My head was inside her black waist slip, her heavy lined skirt, and squeezed by her nylon covered thighs. The light had gone because Sandra's skirt and slip had engulfed my head.

Sandra pulled my head forward. Through the silk scarf I was aware that my nose was against her naked sex. I shook my head slightly. If Sandra moved another inch I would be suffocated by her sex. With my mouth stuffed and gagged I couldn't bite her. If her juices soaked the silk scarf over my face that too might impede my breathing. I thought briefly about using the safe action, but I relaxed. I trusted Sandra. She wouldn't go too far.

Her fingers came under her skirt and spread her lower lips before they closed over my nose. I couldn't breathe at all.

"There you are, Alan," Sandra said. "You're completely trapped in my clothes and now drowning in my sex."

Even before she finished that sentence, she had pulled back so I could breathe.

She lifted herself off me. I could see light again. Sandra removed the now damp scarf over my face.

"I have a souvenir of Greg that I'm going to use now. He wanted me to wear it. I wouldn't but he did - once. One morning I left when he was still in bed, and I put the box in my overnight bag. I didn't want to wear it for Greg. That was the first sign that I was rebelling against Greg's control. Two weeks later I had left him forever. The items in the box should fit you."

There had been a white box on the bed that I had noticed but didn't know what it was for. Sandra opened it and held one of the contents up so I could see it. It was a female mask in latex.

Sandra heaved me up to a sitting position. As I moved the dress tightened even more around me. She fitted the mask to my face and closed the zip at the back. She held up a hand mirror so I could see the effect. It was a realistic face, with lipstick, eyeshadow etc. I was looking through small eye holes. There were holes under the nose so I could breathe but the lips were closed. If I hadn't been already gagged, the mask would have gagged me. As it was, it pushed the knotted scarf further between my lips. It looked odd because the upper part was just pinkish plastic, and I seemed to be bald.

Sandra pulled something else out of the box. She put double-sided tape on the mask across my forehead, the top of my head and around the back of my head. She lifted up a blonde wig with shoulder length hair. She stuck that to the double-sided tape and then brushed it.

She brought back the mirror. Apart from a total lack of expression my head looked female. She moved the mirror so I could see my whole body, sheathed in her dress and tightly bound.

Sandra was standing beside her bed watching me struggle futilely. She was giggling.

"You shouldn't have wished for it, Alan. I'm enjoying it, even if you aren't."

I couldn't reply. I was gagged.

"I'm now going to do what the woman did in the video -- walk away and leave you struggling to free yourself from your tight bondage as a cross-dressed man looking like a woman. Don't forget to struggle, Alan."

Sandra climbed off the bed, stood looking at me for a few seconds and then walked away out of my sight.

"If you need to, Alan, you could use the safe action. I will still be able to see it. But until then, do some struggling..."

I tried. I writhed and wriggled on the bed. But there was no way I could get even a hand free. Sandra's bondage was too effective. I whimpered into the mask, the only noises I could make. But I was aware that I was fully erect. This bondage had aroused me to levels I had never experienced without being sheathed in Sandra.

As I wriggled, I was aware that I was at the point of ejaculation but never quite there. I was in ecstasy for minutes. Being trapped inside Sandra's clothes and her victim was the most arousing experience I had ever had without actual sex, and better even than some of that.

"I hope you are enjoying that, Alan. I am. Having a man totally controlled inside my dress and other clothes is fantastic, I wish I could have done it to Greg. I would have like to have seen him as helpless as you are. But if I had trapped Greg? I wouldn't have let him go. I would have walked out of his flat leaving him helpless. But I won't do that to you. I love you. I assume you are as frustrated that you can't get at me as I am that I can't get at you."

I nodded. It felt odd that the blonde hair moved around my shoulders.

"I think I know what to do. Please lift your backside."

I pushed with my feet and arched my back. Sandra knelt beside me on the bed. She grabbed the hem of the dress and pulled it up inside out. The skirt covered my hands and arms up to my elbows. It was tight around them. Sandra pulled the pantyhose down to the tie around my thighs, followed by the satin panties. She rolled the corselette upwards and my erection sprung up. Sandra heaved her skirt up and impaled herself on me.

I groaned into my gag as Sandra squeezed and began to move. She picked up the silk scarf that had been across my face and pressed it over my eyes and nose. I was back into darkness very aware that I was sheathed in Sandra. Because I couldn't see, all my consciousness was on what Sandra's sex was doing. She gradually increased her rhythm. I writhed under her, too well aware that I couldn't do anything to her, just enjoy what she was doing to me.

I groaned into my gag, trying to hold on until Sandra was as excited as me. I succeeded. She started moaning loudly and I could feel that her thighs, clamped around me, were getting very warm. She threw her head back and started squealing loudly. I was pleased we were alone in the house. Sandra's noises would have wakened the dead. Just before she passed her peak her muscles squeezed, and I couldn't hold back any more. I was panting through my nose as her body slumped over me. We were both exhausted. I wanted to hold her. I couldn't. But Sandra hugged me, adding to the restraints I already had. She had claimed me as her cross-dressed bound victim.

About half an hour later Sandra eased herself off me before gradually removing the wig, the mask, the scarf gagging me, and her now-sodden panties that had stuffed my mouth. She stripped her upper body and gave me two naked breasts to suck and lick.

My mouth was full of a breast when Sandra said:

"I'm sorry, Alan. I forgot to tell you. I intended too but I was too excited with what we were about to do."

I might have asked what she was talking about, but her breast was gagging me -- a very nice gag.

"It should have told you and asked you to agree. It's too late now. I set up a video camera and recorded everything."

I pushed her breast out with my tongue.

"What! You didn't?"

"I'm sorry, Alan. I did. Just before we started, I pressed the remote. I should have said something then, but I was distracted."

"You can't share it..."

"We won't. It is on a memory card and the camera isn't connected to anything. I'll take the card out now."

Sandra got off me, stood on the bed and moved a slit in the four-poster bed's canopy. I hadn't noticed but there had been a small lens poking through. She took out the memory card and replaced it with another before she turned the camera off.

"I had thought that you, no, we, would like a record to look at later. But no one else. Last time you were here you left your old laptop because it didn't have Wi-Fi and could only connect to the internet by ethernet cable. Since that won't connect, we can look at it with no danger of anyone else seeing it. I'll get that laptop."

Sandra started to climb off the bed.

"Sandra? Before you go, could you please remove my bonds. I'm not desperate yet, but I will need the toilet soon."

Sandra stroked my cheek before kissing me.

"OK, Alan, I will. I can't leave you trussed up in my dress for ever."

It took her about a quarter of an hour to release me. I went to the toilet while she went downstairs to get my old laptop. I thought. If Sandra had asked if I minded being recorded, just for us and no one else? I would probably have agreed. I couldn't be mad at her because we were both too excited. I dressed myself back in my normal clothes. I thought Sandra was being a long time. She returned with the laptop tucked under one arm and two cups of coffee.

I set up the laptop on Sandra's dressing table, plugging it into the mains because the old battery wouldn't hold a charge for long. It had the USB card reader, but the temperamental Wi-Fi dongle was back in my flat. Sandra plugged the mains driven computer speakers from her PC into the laptop.

We waited while the file on the memory card was copied to the laptop.

We had finished our coffee before the video was ready to play. We sat side by side on the bed as it started. I was surprised just how arousing both of us felt that watching the video was. Last weekend, when I had made my stupid remark, I hadn't appreciated just how exciting being bound as a cross-dressed female could be.

Even watching the video was nearly as sexy as the actual action had been. Sandra moved from beside me to sitting on my lap, rubbing her legs over my erection. She had to stop the video several times for us to kiss and cuddle.

When the video had finished Sandra started to put the clothes, she had used on me into a laundry basket. She stopped and held up the corselette.

"I bought this a couple of weeks after I had left Greg," she said. "I was beginning to lose weight. I wore it on our first few dates, with the blue dress. I didn't really need it then, but I had been wearing constricting underwear to make Greg's access more difficult. I wonder..."

Sandra put the corselette into the laundry basket and went to her chest of drawers and rummaged.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. She turned to face me.

"Alan? Are you as exhausted as I am?"

"Probably. That was great but I'm not sure I could do much more tonight."

"OK. I have an idea for sleeping tonight. Go and get ready for bed."

I didn't know what she meant, but I went. I got into bed as Sandra used the bathroom. She came back about ten minutes later.

"Alan? The corselette gave me ideas. When I was with Greg, I was at least a stone heavier than I am now. One of the reasons my friend sent me that video is that Greg likes what he calls curvy women i.e., overweight ones. The two black women in that video would have been Greg's ideal female shape. So was I. As I began to rebel, I started to lose weight. At my fattest I needed a serious control garment. I had two but had to replace them as I shrunk until I didn't need them anymore. I should have got rid of them, but they cost so much I was reluctant to."

"And?"

Sandra has stopped talking and was looking at me as if assessing me.

"Alan, you aren't much larger than me. that is why I could truss you up in my slip and blue dress. When I was at my fattest, I was inches more than you are everywhere. I had a thought about my old large corselette."