Role Model Switch

Immediately I felt his hesitation, as I knew it would; he pulled back, his dick grew softer where it lay nestled in the wide wet furrow between my legs. But I was determined, I would [train] him.

'You are such a hypocrite.' I told him.

'What?'

'You're more than happy for me to swallow your cum, but no way you'll do the same.'

'Come on. That's different.'

'How?' I asked. 'You kiss me after covering your face with my pussy juice and expect me to like it.'

'You do!'

'Now, yes. But it took some getting used to. Now it's your turn to be trained.'

'No way!'

'Trust me,' I said as I stood and left the room. 'You have no choice.' It was time to push things.

'Where you going?'

'Patience!' I called back.

I come back with a surprise behind my back. 'Close your eyes,' I command, before I got to work opening him up again; an easy task now that he is trained and ready, two fingers slipped in immediately, then three, then the surprise - a butt plug.

'Oooh!' said Salinger.

But it has ridges, each section larger than the last. I push the second bulb in.

'What the?!'

I pump slowly, letting that second bulb pop in and out.

'Shit, that feels good.'

I gently push bulb three in, and work it in and out like the second - stretching him, loosening him, stimulating him. Then the fourth, the largest. It takes some work but we get it into the sound of Salinger's whimpering pleasure. At least I hope its pleasure. His ass stretched so large as it slipped over that last ridge that even I got scared. No way was I going to pump him with that. So I left him like that while I went to the bathroom to clean up, taking all the toys and tools with me to dump in the basin for Salinger to wash later.

'Hey, Naomi? What gives?' came Salinger's plaintiff voice from the bedroom after a short while. 'You can't just leave me like this.'

'Yes I can.'

'But this thing is really pushing.'

'I know.' I reply.

'Seriously, I think I need to go.'

'I know.'

'What do you mean you know?' he called back.

'I read that the pressure also triggers your large intestine to move whatever is still higher up inside you. And, as I said before, I need you properly clean.'

'Oh.... For what?'

I came back out of the bathroom then and, ignoring his question, admired my handy work; his sphincter was pulsing slowly as he instinctively fought to hold it closed, then I would see it expand hugely against the black latex ball of the plug as the next push reflex overcame him.

'Off you go then, Slave,' I said, as I un-cuffed him and pointed to the bathroom. 'And don't forget to clean all the toys in the basin. And use the douche again, deep and thorough.'

From the flow of water, grunting noises and spot inspections I knew that he was being thorough. But when he came out of the bathroom a good twenty minutes later I still admonished him for being naked.

'Where are your stockings, slave?'

'I was...'

'Put them on again. And what about your plug?'

'It's...'

'Fetch!' I commanded.

When he returned I had him do his downward dog on the bed while roughly re-lubing and plugging him; both of us surprised how easily it slipped in this time.

'Ok, now get dressed.' I said. 'It's time to go shopping.'

'Shopping? Seriously?'

'Yes, shopping.'

But as he stood up the plug just popped out, followed by a blob of clear lube. Jesus, he was stretched. He would have to go without. Looking around I spotted one of my thongs and remembered some more of Tristan's advice; his ass, as stretched, cleaned and stimulated as it was, was going to leak substantially more water and lube. I fetched me a thong panty liner from the bathroom, loaded the black knickers and handed them to him.

I laugh as he stands before me, naked except for the suspender belt, pre-cum dribbled stockings and a thong failing to cover his bits; his ripe plum sticking out the top and his left nut hanging out to one side. But it needed more; I wanted Salinger to feel constantly sexually exposed and vulnerable, like a teenager wearing a low cut top for the first time over her new breasts. I thought for a moment then reached for our collection of toys two retrieve two hinged stainless steel cock rings. The slightly larger one I clamped around his shaft, right at the base behind his scrotum such that it pushed his balls forward - I had to work fast, once erect I would never get it closed. The second I then clamped around his scrotum above his balls; such that the weight of the ring pulled his balls down and his erection forward. There would be no hiding of any erections.

'Ok, you can put your trousers on now,' I say, handing him his white cotton summer slacks and a tight t-shirt, wondering if his hosiery will be visible through the fabric in the sunlight. I then reach for my own dress, discarded earlier beside the bed, and slip it over my head, making sure he notices my own lack of any undergarments.

'Where are we going?' he asks as we head out the door, the faint metal "ting" of his cock rings striking together audible with every step.

'Need to know, Slave,' I answer, picking up the pace to catch the bus approaching from down the street. I reach it first, his clear erectile discomfort slowing him considerably. I skip up the stairs in front of him, enjoying the feeling of his eyes searching up my legs.

I move to four seats facing each other near the front of the bus and point him to the window seat facing forward.

'I can't,' he says.

'Sit,' I command.

He leant forward to whisper in my ear, 'I think I popped a leak stepping up.'

I chuckle. 'Now you know what it's like to have a period. Now trust the panty-liner and sit!'

He lowers himself carefully. I sit opposite him, making sure my dress falls high on my thighs. Then I slip off my sandals and place my bare feet on his seat between his legs, causing him to increase his man spread. An inch of movement of my knees is all I estimate is required to flash him; something I do every time I judge nobody looking my way. It's hard, my legs are clearly getting attention. But it works, his bulge visibly expands before my eyes. A quick nudge and squeeze with my naked foot and I feel and see his erection slip out from under the thong beneath the thin cotton of his trousers, pushing upward, creating the tell tale tent of his trouser front, with the added ridges of his cock rings clearly visible. It is not long before a tiny patch of dark wet appears at his tip.

At the next stop we are joined by two early thirties ladies on a mission to shop. The one next to Salinger gets quickly distracted by my thighs; whether out of appreciation, contempt or jealousy, I do not know. The lady beside me, however, is staring at Salinger's unhindered bulge and surreptitiously trying to get her companion to do the same. The smile shared between them when she finally notices says it all. What fun!

I now have no hesitation to slip my knees wider again for Salinger's probing eyes. Once he's had another good look I place my hands on his knees and lean forward, running my fingers up his thighs, my right hand ending directly over his bulge under the blazing gaze of our neighbors. I squeeze. 'Come Slave,' I say as his patch grows bigger. 'Next stop is ours.' I then get up and nudge my way passed the open mouthed ladies and their shopping.

Our destination was Frunkle's, a quality fetish shop in the heart of Frankfurt where a network of artisans in leather, steel, glass, wood, latex, cloth, and engineering will custom make any deviant item your imagination can conjure.

But I wanted to drag out the pleasure of seeing Salinger's public discomfort; to see how many people notice his bulge and to enjoy their reaction. And ladies, we notice! And we enjoy it. How many of you did a double take as we walked toward you through the boutiques and department stores that morning? How many of you did I catch turning back to double check? And smiling as you did so. Oh what fun! And what fun to finally see a man as the piece of prime rump in the meat market. Meat that never got a moments respite as I was sure to tease him vertical with a well placed caress, flirt, flash up my skirt or guide of his hand between my legs; and this seldom in the safety of a change room.

The best was the look on his face when I wanted to try on a beautiful dusty-blue knitted dress made from the softest Angora rabbit wool that I spotted in a small boutique. However, with the owner busy with the occupant of the sole change room I handed Salinger my bag, slipped my own dress off over my head and stood a moment birthday-suit naked in the aisle in front of Salinger before carefully slipping into the sheath of adorably soft wool. It felt wonderful! 100,000 filaments of the softest angora wool simultaneously caressing every inch of my naked body. I could feel my breasts pushing the ribbing of the knitted fabric apart, my nipples getting hard to the feel of the conditioned air leaked through the gaps.

'Nice!' said Salinger behind me.

I turned to find a mirror.

'Your ass looks amazing in that.'

And I could feel it, my behind, breasts, thighs, waist and mons pushing against the fabric that breathed cool opulence over me with every step. The daylight streaming in next to the mirror showed why - there was nothing left to the imagination. Christ! my body looked better with the dress on than naked.

'Sold,' I said. 'Let's go.'

I walked to the register to await the owner still futsing over the other client at the change room. But the look on her face was worth it when I asked her for a pair of scissors to snip the label and she looked around in confusion trying to figure out exactly when and where I had managed to get into her dress.

Thereafter we did coffee to celebrate the purchase and show it off, followed by the final goal of Frunkle's.

'Ms. Naomi!' exclaimed the proprietor as we entered. 'Welcome back! You look wonderful. That dress!'

Salinger's jaw drops, shocked that I am known in such an establishment.

'Thank you, Frunkle. An impulse purchase; I am so glad you approve. Is it ready?'

'Oh yes!' said Frunkle, reaching behind him toward a large matt black cardboard box with a matching satin ribbon tied around it. 'And may I say what a wicked piece of work it is.'

I turn to Salinger. 'Slave, go explore.' Then I reach with itching fingers for the bow. The ribbon falls away, but Salinger hesitates. 'Now! Go!'

Reluctantly he walks off, with Frunkle and me admiring his sharply defined butt cheeks beneath the thin cotton of his trousers.

'Have you got him wearing a suspender?' asks Frunkle. The outline of which was clearly a bit more visible than I had expected.

'And a thong,' I say.

'Oh, you wicked, wonderful woman!' says Frunkle, returning his attention to the box. 'Such a lucky man.'

He pauses briefly, looks directly at me, raises the lid and lifts the black velvet carry-bag draped over the contents.

And there it was, my own design; a made to measure pair of shiny Ferrari-red latex knickers fitted with a double ended inflatable dildo. Frunkle very ceremoniously slipped on a pair of white cotton gloves, then lifted the creation from the box, like he was presenting the crown jewels. The inward pointing part of the dildo, "my" end, was shaped more like a plug, while the outward facing section, my big red "dick", was modeled directly after one of the most beautiful monster cocks I had ever seen in porn. A solid latex L shaped core connected both parts, each branch curved slightly upward toward the other; the shorter base of the L for my plug, the longer section for my cock and with the elbow of the L passed through and was fixed to the crotch of the knickers with considerable reinforcement.

My hands reached up, wanting it, fingers curling around each of the two hard ends. Wow, even deflated it was big.

'Let me demonstrate,' said Frunkle.

He lifted the pump bulb from the box. From the one end snaked a short tube that ended in a small brass valve. This he plugged into a hole at the base of the L while I held it.

'This plug is also the control,' he explained. 'One click forward or back will control which half you inflate. Unplugging will not deflate it; for that you have to push on either of these two buttons hidden under the surface. Here try it,' he said, offering me the bulb.

I pumped and immediately saw the tight red latex sheath covering my plug's core begin to expand before my eyes. My own inner sheath responded immediately, opening, craving to feel this plug grow inside me.

Frunkle laughed, 'Yeah, makes me want to have a vagina too.'

How did he notice!?

'And to deflate?' I asked as distraction, pushing on the small bump beside the valve closest to my plug. I immediately hear the slight hiss of releasing air. 'Absolutely wonderful, Frunkle. But what about my special touch?' I ask turning the toy over to look inside the panties at the very base of my plug. 'Ah, interesting,' I said, inspecting the tube protruding from there. 'I wonder how well that's going to work?'

'No idea,' said Frunkle, 'but I want a full report after you've road tested it, you hear! But here, take a look at this,' he added, twisting a monitor around on his desk for me to see a grainy security feed coming from one of the back rooms of his establishment. I recognized the dungeon, with its racks, crucifixion crosses, cages, clamps and array of dummies dressed in the most creative array of bondage and fetish gear. But off to one side one of the dummies appeared to be moving.

'Oh my God! It isn't?'

'Afraid it is, my Dear.'

It was Salinger, carefully positioned behind a cage so anybody entering would not notice him immediately, his eyes glued to a screen showing bondage clips in a loop, his fly open, his erection gently held in his slowly stroking right hand.

'Looks like your slave needs some discipline,' said Frunkle.

'Excuse me a moment,' I said, heading toward the dungeon, pulling a riding crop from an umbrella stand as I went.

Entering the room quietly I moved slowly, crouched low till I made it around the cage then jumped up and flicking Salinger on the end of his dick with the crop in one quick movement.

'Fucking HELL!' he screamed.

'Busted! You cheat!'

'Christ, that hurts!'

I could just make out the sound of Frunkle's howling laughter coming down the passageway.

'Move!' I said, pointing to the door with the crop. 'You know the rules.'

Salinger made to put his dick away. 'No! Leave that out. You'll need it.'

'What?'

'Move!'

I directed him to another of the side rooms. A tiny one with a large display window open to a small side street. Frunkle kept a relatively tame display in the window visible all day, but behind it he had cleverly placed a pain of one-way glass, and at 10:30 every night a timer would switch off the lights in the window while simultaneously switching on the spotlights in the room behind the glass, instantly making visible his prized collection of custom made skin tight latex fetish costumes. A display that he regularly and lovingly re-created with the pride and skill of a Broadway set designer. But of the one-way glass Salinger knew nothing; all he saw was latex, glass and the street scene beyond it.

'Up against the glass with you.' I said.

'I've still --'

'Drop the pants and hands against the glass.'

'Naomi! People can see.'

'Silence!' I commanded, as I whipped his ass sharply. 'Ten lashes, and every word is an extra lash. The longer we take the more chance somebody will see you. Do you have friends in this area?'

'Yes.'

'Eleven!' I said, giving him another whack, then reaching for his cheek to stroke the welt that was already starting to form on either side of his suspender straps. Then, too slow things down, I moved my hand between his legs to take a handful of his ringed balls and tug them back toward me. 'I think next time I will need to attached a leash to this thing,' I said.

'That thing has got to be huge inside you by now,' I said.

But Salinger was smart enough by now not to answer. Instead I felt his body suddenly stiffen. I looked up and laughed, a young couple had stopped at the window. American tourists by the looks of it, feeling naughty and anonymously safe away from home. They pointed and laughed at one of the larger hand crafted glass dildos that floated on the glass shelf between us. I gave Salinger's balls and now suddenly very limp dick an extra fondle to stop him thinking and figuring out the one-way glass, then I stepped back for his next hard whack. He squealed. Ooops, I thought, that one really was a bit too hard.

I quickly, and a bit more gently, finished off the remaining eight lashes while the couple continued to hover outside. I then stepped back to take a quick photo of Salinger's welts as further leverage before telling Salinger to pull up his pants and meet me out front.

'Enjoy the show?' I asked Frunkle, as I got to the till and pointed to the monitor.

'I wasn't the only one,' he said, laughing. 'You know that you can see through that glass if something is standing up close enough to it?'

'Oh!' was all I could come up with as I placed the riding crop onto the box containing my new toy. 'Looks like I will need the crop as well.'

On the bus ride home Salinger preferred to stand. When we got home I told him to undress, and to give himself another good clean inside and out.

I took the opportunity to closer inspect my new purchase, to give it a thorough clean and to test putting it on. The last bit of which, the little custom tube, was a bit tricky, but a bit of stimulation and a squeeze of lube and I quickly got the hang of it.

Hearing Salinger finish up I put the toy back in its velvet bag, placed it in my handbag and had Salinger join in the bedroom, where I treated him by rubbing oil into his still red butt cheeks and down between his legs, while playing some porn on the flatscreen. Then I made him do the same to me; but longer: A two hour full body massage interspersed by a fondling of his bits whenever my mood or the decline in his erection so moved me.

'You know, I am actually getting hungry,' I said, as he finished up my massage. 'Let's go try out this new place I found.'

'Food? Now? Seriously.'

'Are you questioning me, Slave?'

'Come on, Naomi,' begged Salinger. 'My balls are seriously starting to hurt. You've kept me aroused for hours with no release. The pressure is building.'

'I know, Darling. That's the idea. But don't worry, you won't regret it.' I paused, winked at him, then added, 'The restaurant is excellent.' And with that I hopped out of bed and pulled him into the bathroom to gave us both a quick rinse to remove the oil.

Once back in the bedroom I had one last preparation before we could get dressed. 'Bend over,' I said to Salinger, pointing to the padded armrest of the settee we had in the corner of the bedroom next to my dressing table. 'Not a word!' I quickly interjected, as he looked to complain.

While he got into position I retrieved two beautiful large green enamel Chinese Geisha balls from a small drawer in the dressing table and reached again for the bottle of lube. As prepared as he was it did not take long before I saw his sphincter wink closed as his ass drew the last of the balls inside and I heard the first gentle chime of the balls coming together inside him.

'Oh, man, that's weird!' said Salinger. 'I can feel them, actually hear them ring through my body!'

'Good, now get dressed!' I said pointing to the clothes I had laid out for us.

For me I chose a white silk blouse and a short, heavily pleated dark grey woolen skirt highlighted with a royal blue tartan check. This I wore over a suspender belt and matching blue stockings. My feet I slipped into a pair of high heeled black leather ankle boots to match the handbag containing my arsenal. Think sophisticated fashion editor inspired by slutty catholic schoolgirl.