Metalogue Pt. 03

(After the previous episode's backstory, Pt. 03 picks up at the conclusion of Pt. 01. Like "Prologue," the Metalogue series is written from the point-of-view of a man who desires to be feminized, then pegged by his wife. It can be read as part of a wider story arc which begins with "Prologue" and passes through the Her Story series and the Metalogue series. When completed, an "Epilogue" will complete this wider arc. All nine episodes feature voluntary male feminization and male sexual submission, and readers who have a problem with those subjects are urged to look elsewhere)

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So anyway . . . that's how I happened to find myself at this point in my life, locked in chastity and kneeling at the feet of my wife.

Finally revealed to me, her "mystery cock" hung mere inches from my face, and my first impression frankly was one of immense relief. While amazingly lifelike, the plastic dick in no way measured up to some of the monsters I'd seen offered for sale on the internet, and that alone was cause to literally thank God for small favors!

In truth, my wife's new plastic strap-on might have even been a bit smaller in both length and girth than what my own modest member attains when fully engorged - a state of being I could feel my poor caged clitty even now desperately attempting to achieve within the confines of its pink plastic prison.

As my eyes focused on a vein on the right side of the dildo, my man pussy throbbed madly against the large stainless steel butt plug lodged inside it. While I wildly speculated as to exactly how that "vein" might feel inside my mouth, a wide-spread hand swooped in from behind me to firmly grasp my head from the rear. Fingers locked tightly into the roots of my newly waved hair to immobilize my face directly in front of the beige plastic penis.

Momentarily fixed in both time and space, my stunned eyes could only watch in what seemed to be slow motion as another set of fingers on a disembodied right hand emerged from the left to inexorably tip that lifelike dick toward my painted lips. Locking on to it, my eyes must have surely crossed as they attempted to follow the bulging head's steady approach toward my mouth. Panic shot though me when I thought I'd lost sight of it, but maybe a microsecond later an electric jolt shot through my entire being when it first touched my lipstick.

"No!" I howled, but the rest of my body wasn't listening. Some deeply buried instinct bid my lips embrace its glans with a passionate kiss, then lock themselves tightly around it. Sucking madly while my tongue danced around its plastic frenulum, I felt my eager lips open wider to entice it further inside. I loudly slurped the plastic dick up against the roof of my mouth where it seemed to root about in earnest, begging my tongue to caress it and explore its length in greater detail.

Mewling now like a baby, I felt fingers from another hand tightly weave their way through my hair as both hands locked my mouth solidly around the questing cock. A thumb and forefinger, seemingly from nowhere, began kneading my cheeks and lips, first pinching my mouth tightly into an elongated "O" around my surprisingly tender invader, then pinning it tightly within the warmth of my oral cavity. The finger and thumb then slowly began to move toward each other, then back, aggressively forcing the inside walls of my cheeks into a milking motion around the plastic fantastic intruder within my mouth.

I heard myself moaning uncontrollably while that magic thumb and forefinger continued to exercise my cheeks around the dildo, and upon hearing her voice, I reconnected to the knowledge that it was my wife conducting this symphony. Directing pressure from her other hand and fingers, she firmly guided my mouth and its painted lips further and further up her strap-on's shaft. "Oh my God, that's so beautiful; it's really a shame we're not filming this," she offered in encouragement. "I just knew you'd be great doing this!"

Hearing her encouraging voice spurred me on. Eyes now watering, a great wavering groan escaped my lips as her cock entered my throat and tripped my gag reflex. Fighting for survival now with all the klaxons sounding, I somehow willed myself into the state of total submission I'd visualized so many times before. Remembering a suggestion to yawn, I surprised even myself as my body rallied behind me to permit the bulging glans free passage down my waiting throat. Tears of joy mingled with tears of terror as her other hand rejoined its mate and began pumping my head forward and back on her now-ceaseless dick. God! I was now deep throating her!

What seemed like hours were more likely measured in seconds while her strap-on ravaged my throat, then I felt fingers from both hands firmly grasped my ears like jug handles. One final frenetic pull completely impaled my face upon her plastic dick while every part of me wanted more. Choking now, I felt I could barely breathe as my mouth and face were forced tightly into the strap-on's harness. Like a litter of nursing pups, I excitedly pawed at her perineum to a chorus of frantic whines and whimpers while the nylon lace of her basque pressed tightly into my hair and forehead. A sudden violent shudder rocked us both, and my wife abruptly shoved me away with what could only be described as a totally disembodied howl.

A great stillness, broken only by my still-desperate gasps for air, followed as total euphoria descended upon my body while it lay in a tattered heap at her feet. Some might find it too embarrassing to admit, but for me at that moment, even between the gasps and the occasional cough, the only thing on my mind was triumph. With the help of my wife, I had conquered my fears and experienced fabulous things. Although discarded at her feet and still wheezing, a great pride swelled up inside for a job well done . . .

"My God, have you done this before?" my wife asked, her almost hysterical laughter breaking the silence as she bent over my crumpled body. "I don't know why I should be surprised, given your already demonstrated talents for pussy eating! I guess this just proves there's no end to your talents, is there?"

She turned my head so my tear-stained, bleary eyes could see the marks my bright red lippy had smeared on her faux dick and balls. "See that?" she exclaimed out of pure pride. "Damn!" Petting and stroking me in an incredibly tender and loving way, she couldn't help but giggle just thinking of the sheer magnitude of what we'd experienced. "Not too shabby for a couple newbies, don'tcha think?" she asked, holding up her cock to further inspect its lipstick stains. "Kinda like the marks left by our ram's marking harness, isn't it? Looks like we're going to need a longer dip stick if we ever hope to find your low-water mark, dear!"

My legs were still shaking when she gathered me into her arms like a spent rag doll and pulled me to my feet. "You really are some kind of fucking marvel, aren't you? Were you aware you just gave me one hell of a God-damned orgasm, too? All through that shit, I could feel you right on the other side of that fucking harness dividing us, but it always felt like that was really me inside of you! Or were you inside of me? Oh, shit . . . I don't even know what I do know now! I just know it was so, so damn hot to look down at my crotch and see all that beautiful hair! We're not cutting that anytime soon, fuck no! Just seeing how it covered my dick . . . yeah, that's right, motherfucker! That was MY fucking dick inside your cocksucking mouth, for Christ's sake! I just loved every second of it!"

She fought to restore a semblance of composure to her usual buttoned-down decorum. "The most overused word in the English language right now is 'awesome,'" she said, "but it's pure understatement when I say, Lil Bit, THAT WAS JUST FUCKING AWESOME!"

I continued to cough and gasp for breath, and she quickly turned solicitous toward my needs. "Shit! Are you all right? Do you need anything right now? Need a drink?" "Yes, please," I gasped. "Just water." She raced off to the sink to bring me back a glass. I drank in great gulps, and she reached across to tenderly wipe the dribbles running down my chin. As she did, I reached out to place my hand on that bulge beneath the blue silk. It felt so real, I thought, and I attempted to compare it to my own, only to feel the solid chastity tube which encased it. I returned to her dick, this time dropping beneath her nightie to expose it to my eyes. Seeing it for the first time at something other than pointblank range, I thought it looked beautiful as I nestled it within my hand. "Still want to continue or have you had enough for tonight?" she asked.

"No, I'm through settling for half measures," I answered, my hand continuing to fondle the inert piece of plastic between her legs. "I want it all."

"Me, too," she said simply. "You're the doctor." Reaching for the bright red lipstick, she attempted to give my smeared mouth a hurried touch-up but gave it up as a lost cause, turning instead to my ravaged hair

"One thing I'd like first, though, is some more of that fuckin' sherry," she said. "Where's your glass?" I motioned toward the nightstand, and she returned with both glasses filled more than just a bit higher than fashionable.

"This is some seriously good shit," she exclaimed. "Based on our performance so far, I'd say we should give some thought to a third tap in the bathroom - 'Hot,' 'Cold,' and 'Sherry.' You might have known there was a damn good reason Shakespeare's characters were always swilling it - now, come sit on the bed with me, Lil Bit."

Her stainless steel placeholder moved up against my prostate once again as its handle and my butt cheeks settled together into the mattress, and my clitty strained in its cage as my wife snuggled up next to me. "Feeling a lot better about this now, aren't you? Well, to be truthful, me too . . ."

She wrapped an arm tightly about my body. "I love you completely," she whispered in my ear. "You do finally realize that now, don't you, dumbass? Are there any fucking doubts? How did Sally Bowles put it? Some about not exactly planning to white-slave you to Africa when I'm done with you? I warned you before that I'm a greedy bitch. I always have been. You're a treasure I discovered after others passed up their chances, and I have zero plans to share you with anyone. Ever!"

She focused another of those long looks at me. "From the very beginning, I've thought this was all batshit crazy," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "You almost had me fooled into believing I was running this show, but for some time now I've suspected it's always been your famous imagination at the bottom of everything we do."

"I guess so," I admitted, "but it took you to make it all happen."

Our glasses touched, then she shifted vocal gears, dropping back into her familiar "just-the-facts" voice. "I'm sure you've already given this next step a lot of thought, especially considering all the years you've stewed over it. How exactly have you always pictured your 'first time' anyway, hmmmm?"

Her intense stare bore a hole clear through me, leaving me extremely uncomfortable until her infectious laughter began anew.

"What's it going to be your first time, dear? You tell me, Mr. Decision Maker! Missionary? Or have you always pictured yourself on elbows and knees getting that ass filled doggy-style?"