The Domme Upstairs

"I thought so too."

"So . . ." she asked excitedly, "your first time with him . . . what was it like?"

"Short," I chuckled, thinking back. "But I suppose that was kind of my fault."

"How so? Tell me all about it, and don't leave out a fucking thing."

"Well . . . I remember it was the night I told him about the walks I was taking."

"Walks?"

"Late-night walks."

"Ahh," she smiled, knowingly.

"I'd go to parks, sometimes the ball-field or the cemetery . . . I'd usually just have on a pair of cut offs and a muscle-shirt or something, it was summer so it was still warm at night."

"Sounds pretty normal to me . . ."

"Yeah, I guess it does. But once I'd get to the place, I'd take off the shorts and stash them somewhere and walk in just the panties."

"Ooo, that's kinky . . . I like it. Go on. What was the thrill? Walking around in public like that?"

I nodded, "And the chance that I might get caught, and that's what I was telling the shrink about. I had a weird fantasy stuck in my head and I wanted to know what he thought it meant."

"What was it? Getting jumped by the high-school football team or something? I know that was mine . . . "

"No . . . just one man."

"Just one . . . and what does this one man do to you, when you're out on your little walk in the park?"

"He catches me. There are no lights in the cemetery, it's almost pitch black, which is why I liked to walk there. I never do get a good look at the guy standing in front of me, it's just a big dark shape. I used to imagine he was a cop or a security guard or something, and he'd arrest me for trespassing and threaten to take me in . . . or something like that."

"How would you get out of it?"

"It varied over time . . . sometimes I'd have to give him a blowjob, which I had never done before, and sometimes it would be more aggressive, violent even."

"How violent were you imagining?"

"Bent over a tombstone with my panties stuffed in my mouth kind of violent."

"And this is what you're telling the shrink . . . "

"Yeah, and he's being real quiet . . . just sitting there in his chair by the fireplace with his legs crossed and writing in his little notepad. And I'm telling him that I've been taking more and more walks, and how I can't stop myself from thinking about it. I remember walking over to him I wanted to be closer to the fire . . . it was chilly in there wearing just panties and a shirt, so I sat down in front of the fire and kept talking. It got quiet all of the sudden, and when I looked up at him in his chair I could see had a huge hard on in his pants, and he was staring at me. I knew right then and there that he wanted me . . . and I decided to give myself to him."

Kristen nodded slowly, listening intently as I went on, "I tried to give him a blowjob, but it never got that far, but I remember wanting to, probably more than I've ever wanted anything."

"What stopped you?"

"He did. I reached up and grabbed him through his pants . . . and I sorta skooched over so I was sitting on the floor between his legs. I took down his fly and reached inside . . . and that was the first time I'd ever laid hands on a guy that way. I was jerking him off and was about to take it out when he grabbed me by the hair with one hand put the other on the hand I was jerking him off with. I thought this was his way of slowing things down. But then he told me to open my mouth . . . so I did, and he came in his pants and all over my hand about three seconds later."

Kristen chuckled, delighted. "That's fucking hilarious . . . Your parents catch you with women's underwear, send you to a shrink, and you end up wearing them while you give your therapist a hand-job on their dime."

I smiled, feeling relaxed and happy perhaps for the first time since we sat down. I also felt unburdened, like a huge weight had been lifted after confessing something so personal and condemning.

Kristen reached out and placed a hand on me as she looked into my eyes intently. "Thank you for sharing that . . . I think it's extremely sexy when boys experiment with their feminine side, and if we're going to be friends then I think it's important that you feel comfortable expressing that side of yourself around me. I only wish I could get Mason to loosen up a little that way, but he's an alpha at heart, and that's how I like him which is why we have an open relationship so I can get what I want elsewhere."

"And he doesn't mind?"

"Are you kidding? He's fucking thrilled because it's not him! I'm hoping that maybe that's something you'd be interested in exploring with me."

As for me . . . I was equally thrilled that she was at least giving me the option.

"Well?" she asked coyly. "What do you say?"

I said the only thing I could say, "Yes."

"Good boy," she said, rising from the recliner until she really was towering over me. She glanced around my apartment briefly and asked if I had plans that evening.

"No, not really."

"Good. Why don't you light some of these candles . . . have a drink or two . . . slip into something sexy, and I'll be back in a couple of hours. I just need Mason to do something for me first."

I sat in my apartment for the next two hours listening to the sounds of Kristen's footsteps back and forth across her apartment above me. I put on a t-shirt and a pair of little blue boy-short panties, but felt too subconscious sitting there dressed that way, so after an hour I put on a black satin robe over top of them. It was almost two hours to the minute when I heard her apartment door close followed by the sound of her footsteps coming down the stairs. I greeted her at the door and quickly closed it once she was inside, knowing that the old lady across the hall was probably shuffling across her apartment so she could get a look at what was going on through her peep-hole. Kristen had changed into in pair of shiny black tights and a purple hoodie, and she looked amazing. She was barefoot, and her toe-nails were painted bright red like her lips. In her hands she held a little pink gift bag stuffed with white tissue paper, which she held out to me.

"For me?" I asked, a little taken aback.

"Yep."

"You really shouldn't have . . . "

She grinned and said, "You have no idea."

I set the bag down on the coffee table and when I turned around I saw that she was frowning at me. She held out a finger and wagged it at what I was wearing. "What's this all about?" Without waiting for my response she stepped up close to me and looked up at me intensely, her eyes locked on mine. I felt a short tug at my waistline and my robe fell open, and then Kristen gently slipped it off of my shoulders and let it fall until it pooled around my feet. She slid one hand down my stomach and stopped on my hip where she gave me a playful pat. "That's better. I thought I saw some beer in your fridge earlier, why don't you be a good sport and grab us a couple."

She watched me walk out of the living-room and into the kitchen, I knew because I could feel the heat of her stare on my ass, and when I returned she'd flopped down onto the recliner and was reaching for the t.v remote. "You've got cable, right?"

"Sure," I said, handing her one of the cold bottles and taking mine to the sofa.

She turned on my t.v. and changed the channel over to the fireplace channel before setting the remote down and opening the bottle. Then she leaned back in the recliner and used one of her bare feet to nudge the gift bag closer to me. "Relax . . . drink your beer . . . open your present."

I looked at the bag suspiciously, almost afraid to touch it. "What is it?"

"Just a little something from me . . . and Mason, actually."

"From your boyfriend?!?" I asked, incredulously.

"Of course! Like I told you before, we don't keep secrets, that's not how it works."

"But . . . what did you tell him? I mean, does he know . . . "

" . . . that you're sitting here with me in sexy little panties? Of course he does . . . and he's thrilled."

"Thrilled?!?" I said, nearly choking.

"Sure! Are you kidding? I believe his exact words were . . . better him than me. "

It was beyond surreal . . . the idea that I'd be sitting there with Kristen while her boyfriend was likely sitting directly above us. But the biggest revelation was yet to come. I set my beer down and reluctantly picked up the gift bag, I rested it on my lap and gingerly removed the white tissue paper billowing from the bag and looked inside. The first thing I saw staring back at me was a tall rectangular box with the picture of a massive cock printed on it. She laughed at the expression on my face and told me to take it out. It was heavier than I expected, and I saw two little bottles sitting in the bottom of the bag. One of them was a bottle of cherry flavored lube, and the other was black with a white cap and no label so I couldn't tell what was in it. I wasn't particularly worried about those though; I was far more concerned about the huge boxed dildo I was holding.

"You look surprised . . ." she commented, pleased by my reaction.

"I am . . . did you actually go out and buy this for me?"

"No," she chuckled. "My friend works in a sex shop and she gives me this stuff all the time . . . I have a closet full of goodies upstairs. She gave me that one as a strap-on to use with Mason. But like I said earlier . . . he's just not into it. I showed it to him and he was so upset that he actually left for about an hour. That was my fault. I knew how he felt and I should have let it go, so when he came back, I promised him. As long as he allows me to have a little sissy on the side, I won't ever ask him for that kind of thing again."

Sissy on the side . . . From the moment she said it, I knew that's what I was to her. I was to be a surrogate of sorts, one whose sole responsibility was to serve as her fuck-toy, and to do all the things she'd probably rather be doing with Mason.

"Don't be shy," she said. "Take it out and have a look at it."

I set the bag down and opened the box, the head of the cock inside was peering out at me like an eye. Reaching inside, I immediately noticed how soft and life-like it felt to the touch. As I withdrew it from the box, I realized that like a real cock it might have felt soft and squishy on the outside, but the core was hard. Flexible . . . but hard. It was also equipped with a tight pair of equally soft and smooth balls as well as a suction cup base. "Well," she said, smiling as she sipped her beer, "what do you think?"

The first thing that came to my mind was, "It's big . . . " and it was, probably close to 9" and very girthy. Much larger than most of the men I'd been with, or the toys I'd used in the past. I suddenly felt excited holding it so I put it down on the coffee table and tried not to look at it.

"You know," Kristen said, picking up the toy and stroking her fingers across it as she spoke, "when you talked about those late night walks in the cemetery . . . I'm not surprised you gave your shrink a hard-on. It was a hot story . . . it certainly got my attention. And, it gave me an idea . . . a way we could get to know each other a little better."

I gulped, "It did?"

"Uh huh. Hand me that bag, would ya?"

I handed her the pink gift bag and she took the two little bottles out of it and set them on my coffee table. Then she reached beside her to where my robe was still laying on the floor and removed the belt. "Come over here," she said quietly. "I want to give you something . . . a little present between friends."

I just sat there, staring at her like an idiot, afraid to move.

Kristen pointed to the floor at her feet and repeated herself, this time in a less playful tone. "Come . . . over . . . here."

I rose from the sofa and stood in front of her, my heart pounding in my chest. She made a twirly gesture with her finger and I reluctantly turned my back to her. Using the belt from my robe she tied my wrists together tightly before turning me back around to face her. My cock was hard in my panties and when she turned me around it was inches from her face. I couldn't help it . . . the vulnerability I felt just standing there was exciting enough on its own, but being tied up had taken it to the next level, awakening my submissive side. She took hold of the hem of my t-shirt and tugged it downwards, urging me to first kneel, then sit on the living-room floor at her feet.

"So tell me more about this cemetery . . . did anyone ever actually catch you there?" Kristen asked as she picked up the dildo and drizzled some cherry flavored lube on it

"No . . . well the police almost caught me one time, but it was foggy and I got away."

"Hmmm, that might have been fun, eh? Bent over a tombstone in handcuffs while they fuck you from both ends . . ."

Kristen spread her legs apart, draping one over the arm of the chair and wrapping the other around me and pulling me close until she was able to hook her ankles and trap me there with my face mere inches from her lap. She grabbed the back of my hair with her left hand and placed the base of the dildo against her crotch. "Okay . . . let's pretend I just caught you in the cemetery . . . and I promise to untie you and let you go if you suck my cock."

When I opened my mouth to speak she pushed my head down and made me take it into mouth. "There you go . . . that's a good boy."

I couldn't believe how strong she was. She had a vice-like grip on me with her legs and she'd pulled me in so close that I couldn't raise my head up high enough to get the dildo out of my mouth. It filled my mouth nearly to the point of entering my throat, which would have probably sent me into a panic but she seemed to sense this, and she kept me just behind the threshold of choking.

"You look great with a cock in your mouth . . ." she teased. "I can tell you've done this before."

She began pumping my head faster and continued on until I began letting out little involuntary groans as I struggled to keep up with her. "Do you need a break?"

In between thrusts I tried to nod and managed to say "Mmm hmm!"

"Too fucking bad," she said, continuing to pump my head. "You should of thought of that before you went out dressed like you wanted some cock in you. I'm not stopping till I cum."

I moaned and squirmed and struggled but it only made her pump faster. I couldn't pull away or stand or resist her. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, and I was sweating from the effort. "Okay slut," she said finally, "are you ready for it?"

"Mmm hmm," I choked.

Though I couldn't see it through the tears, Kristen picked up the second little bottle, the black one with no label, and removed the cap. "Here's it comes," she said.

She relaxed her legs slightly and pulled my head off of the dildo in a hanging web of spit and lube, yanking my head back even further until my mouth was open, she quickly dumped the contents of the bottle into my mouth and then shoved my head back down on the dildo. I could instantly tell that the contents had been cum. Though it was barely room temperature, there was no mistaking it. Kristen continued to pump my face, letting out a long moan as she began to rotate her hips on the recliner.

"Swallow it, slut," she commanded. "This isn't over until you swallow."

I did, and when she was satisfied that I had, she released her grip on me and used one foot to nudge me off balance so I flopped down on my side where I lay panting and gasping for breath.

When I finally caught my wind, I looked up to see her smiling down at me as she finished her beer. "Now," she said, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Kristen untied me and we sat talking into the night. Strangely, the intensely intimate sex act we'd shared had the curious effect of completely removing the nervousness I'd previously felt around her. It was surreal, sitting with her in my living room by candlelight with a crackling fireplace playing on the television, dressed in panties with her boyfriend's cum fresh in my belly, and a nine inch rubber cock sitting on my coffee table. Normally, our roles would have been reversed and it would have been the female sitting there in her underwear with the taste of my cum fresh on her lips, and me basking in the afterglow of not only an orgasm, but the perception that I had conquered. Not this time. This time, I was the one who had been dominated, and the realization was a revelation for me.

She placed her feet on my lap and I was rubbing them while we talked and watched the faux flames flickering on the screen. She seemed very interested in hearing about my "firsts." Now that she knew about my first time in panties and my late night walks, she wanted to hear about the rest and was willing to share her own.

"My first handjob?" I asked, thinking back. "I guess if you don't count that time with my therapist, I was about 20?"

"Wow, that's a surprise. Why'd you wait so long?"

I shrugged, "Not sure. I guess I just never had the opportunity. Then I met this guy through a personal ad and he took me out for drinks a few times, and one night he kind of guilted me into it."

"Oh," she smiled, "the old . . . I paid for your drinks, now you owe me routine?"

"Pretty much. Do you remember yours?"

She laughed, "Oh God yes . . . Timmy Bateman, 7th grade, after school in the gymnasium equipment room. He got cum all over his pants and had to ride the bus home with his coat on his lap. How about your first blowjob?"

"Giving one?"

She nodded.

"Same guy as my first handjob, and I did it for the same reason."

"Like it?"

I shook my head, "It was awful. We had both had too much to drink and he couldn't stay hard. Then he got mad and blamed it on me."

"Did he finish at least?"

"Nope. He kicked me out of his car and made me walk home from the bar. I never heard from him again."

"Yeesh, that sounds terrible, though mine wasn't much better. So when did you first realize you were different?"

"Different how?"

"You know . . . kinky?"

"Oh . . . well I had a girlfriend in college who introduced me to the whole thing."

"How did that go down?"

"Well . . . we were fooling around in her bedroom after class one day, and she brought out a pair of handcuffs . . . I think they belonged to her parents or something . . . anyway, she had this thing about being in control. She hated not being in charge when we fooled around, and I think she must have had some bad experiences before me because she was always in charge. She was way more experienced than I was, so I was perfectly happy letting her do whatever she wanted, and never asked for more. Anyway, this one time she asked if I wanted a blowjob, and I was like, yeah of course! Why wouldn't I right? But then she says she'll only do it under two conditions . . . one, that I let her handcuff me to her bed, and two, if I'll put on a pair of her underwear."

"So . . . you did it?"

"Oh yeah, and I've been hooked ever since. The problem was that the women in my life who get off on that sort of thing have been few and far between, so I've gone without it for most of my life. Over time I realized that it's much easier to find other men who are into that kind of thing than it is to find a woman, so I began experimenting and the rest is history."

She grinned, "And now you're a total fuck-toy for men . . ."

"I guess," I shrugged."

She rubbed my thigh with her bare foot, "Don't be modest. I think it's extremely sexy, and I also think you look amazing with a cock in your mouth."

I laughed in spite of myself. "I'm not sure how to respond to that . . . thanks?"

"I mean it. Watching you was making me hot. I'd love to see you with the real thing . . ."

I said nothing, but she picked up on it immediately by the blush on my face. "You've got it on video . . . don't you?"

It wasn't really a question, she knew.