Author’s note and disclaimer: This is a story containing non-consensual sexual acts (including cross-dressing, bondage, and other fun stuff) performed by a woman on her unwilling slave. In real life, all acts should be consensual – stories like this are only for fantasies and for fueling scenes.

Reposting this story privately or to newsgroups is acceptable, as long as you keep my name (Adam Smith) and email address (adamapple@bigfoot.com) associated with it. Posting this to any for-profit website (including any that use paid screeners, like AdultCheck) without my express written permission is forbidden.

Comments and criticisms are welcome, of course. Although I think the story stands by itself as a fun scene, I’m certainly considering writing a sequel, following our hero through the rest of the weekend. Things are only likely to get worse (or better, depending on your perspective) as the weekend progresses.

And now, your story.

 

A New Year               by: Adam Smith

 

Chapter 1 – The Trap

"Thanks, sweetie." That was Jane, the secretary in our IT department. Although I technically support other departments at the college, all of us end up helping out Jane, as well. Even if it’s not in the job description, it’s pretty hard to say "no" to your team’s secretary if you know you can fix it. After all, if she’s able to get her work done, payroll gets filed on time, vacation hours get credited properly, and we’re all happy.

Of course, the other reason I am glad to help Jane is that I’ve always had a little bit of a crush on her. Jane is a pretty blonde Midwesterner, and has that wonderful sweet way about her that some Midwesterners have -- she called everyone "sweetie" and "dear," and always had a smile ready for anyone who was nice to her. I wouldn’t call it innocence, per se – she certainly has sex appeal, and since she’d just gotten divorced, only an idiot would think of her as "virginal." But her sex appeal never came across as deliberate. She never wore mini-skirts, or low-cut blouses, but rather just had a way about her that was incredibly attractive. It was obvious that she had great breast and legs, without having to create any false cleavage or resort to any other tricks.

So why didn’t I hit on her? Well, there were a few reasons, I guess. First, she was a bit older than me – I was 27, and she’d just turned 35. Second, after the divorce (which was not a pleasant one, from what she said around the office), I wasn’t sure if she’d be open to seeing anyone. Third, she was, I thought, way out of my league. And finally, I’ve never been a fan of intra-office relationships. They can cause too many problems. So I contented myself with enjoying ogling her when she bent over to file things (she may not have worn mini-skirts, but she still showed herself off nicely in jeans and slacks), and the innocent flirting that she engaged in.

It was Friday afternoon, just before the long New Year’s weekend, and we were the last two folks around. We’ve got a pretty lax office, and between semesters, most folks work from home or take off early. It was about 4, and I’d been thinking about heading home myself, when she’d asked me to fix a problem on her computer. It was pretty simple, but the smile she gave me when I finished was worth it. She was clearly about to head out herself, and was finishing cleaning up while I was working on her machine.

"So," she said, "are you doing anything special for New Year’s Eve?"

"Nope. I’ve never been a huge New Year’s partier. The roommates are out of town, so I figured I’d get a pizza and watch the fireworks on tv. How about you?"

 

"Oh, not much," she said, as she finished putting away her files, and started towards the coffee machine. "I’ll probably get together with someone special and just enjoy the weekend." She didn’t put any special emphasis on the words "someone special," but I took it to mean that she was planning on getting laid this weekend. Some guy was going to be real lucky.

"Sounds great," I said, as I finished up. "This is fixed, now."

"Oh, you’re so great! Now we can both get out of here before 5! And – Oh!" That exclamation was made as the heel of her shoe caught on the carpet, and she tripped, sending the contents of the nearly-full coffee pot she was bringing to the office sink right into my crotch. My initial fear was cut short, as it became apparent that this was the leftover coffee from this morning, and was cold, not hot. But as I was wearing very light tan pants, it was going to be hard to hide the huge stain that was now there when I left. Worse, we’d been having a frigid winter, and I knew that even walking the seven blocks home could be a health risk with pants this soaking wet. I could feel the coffee soaking through my boxers, too.

"Oh my god! Alan, I’m so sorry!" Jane made the same connections I did, and said, "there’s no way you can walk home like that."

"Oh, it won’t be too bad," I lied (it’s hard to be mad at someone like Jane). "It’s a short walk, and I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not like I keep a change of clothes at the office."

"That’s an idea! I’ve got my gym clothes! I didn’t make it to the gym today, so they’re clean, and sweatpants should be able to stretch enough to fit you just fine."

"Oh, Jane, I couldn’t."

"Nonsense. It was my fault, after all. Change in the bathroom, and then I’ll drive you back to my place, so no one has to see you walking around in pink sweatpants. I’ll wash your clothes and make you dinner – I owe you that much." I haven’t really done much kinky stuff in my life, but there’s something intensely erotic about a beautiful woman telling you to wear her clothes, and since my pants were sopping, I knew that any reaction I had would be pretty obvious, so I grabbed her gym bag and headed to the bathroom. As I was about to go in, she called out to me. "Oh, there’s clean underwear in there, too – in case the coffee’s soaked all the way through." I thanked her and entered the bathroom.

As soon as I got my pants off, there was no doubt that I’d need to at least get rid of my boxers, which were sopping wet, even if I didn’t bother with her underwear. I couldn’t imagine her stuff fitting me, but when I opened her bag, it was obvious that although the panties (pink cotton ones – I should have known that they wouldn’t be frilly or silk for a workout, but I was still surprised) were clean, they were a bit well-worn, and although they were tight, they did fit. The sweats were a hot pink, but they also fit (although they were also somewhat tight). Looking at myself in the mirror, I blushed – although sweatpants should be gender-neutral, these were short, tight, and the sort of pink no man would ever wear. To top it off, there were little hearts on the side. I exited the bathroom, to find Jane wearing her coat, ready to go.

"Looking good, hon," she winked at me, still sounding more sweet than seductive. "You ready?"

I grabbed my coat, shut down my computer, as was ready to go. "Sure – let’s go." The walk to the car was only about a minute – although we didn’t run into anyone, I knew there were still folks on campus, and I was incredibly nervous about being seen in pink.

Jane definitely picked up on it – as soon as we got into her Saturn, she said, "don’t worry – I don’t think anyone saw you. Although," and she smiled as she turned the ignition, "you do look great in pink." I blushed a bit and brushed it off as a joke.

The ten-minute ride to her place was filled with the usual inconsequential conversation about co-workers and the like. When we got to her place, she went to toss my clothes into the washer, while I wandered around the living room. I’d never been to her place before, but it was a nice apartment – she’d obviously done well in the divorce. Nice leather sofa, some beautiful bookcases, some hanging plants, and a gorgeous fireplace. The coffee table in front of the couch was solid wood, and looked like an antique. I’d just started to look through the books when Jane came back in.

"Grab a seat on the couch, and I’ll make you a drink," she said, heading to the bar in the corner of the room. "You like rum and tonic, right?" The entire office had gone out drinking a few times, and I’d been kidded for not being a typical beer guy.

She brought my drink over and sat next to me on the couch – a bit closer than I’d expected, actually. "You know, Alan, I wasn’t kidding about how good you looked in pink. And I don’t think I’m mistaken in thinking that you like how I look, am I?"

"Um, Jane, wow. No, of course you’re not mistaken, I just didn’t think –" I stumbled. I sure hadn’t expected a come-on from someone this attractive!

She took my drink, put it on the side table, and promptly proceeded to straddle me, her jeans-clad legs grabbing my sweat-covered thighs tightly. "I didn’t invite you in to think, you know," she said, as she then leaned down and kissed me. It was one hell of a kiss, and I was hard as a rock against her by the end of it.

"Um, didn’t you have plans this weekend?" I asked, my mind mentally cursing my mouth for asking the sort of dumb question that could kill my chances then and there.

"Silly. This was my plan. You’re someone special, and I’m damned well planning on enjoying this weekend. Now," she said, sliding off of me, "let’s see how easily those sweatpants come off." She pulled them off of me, along with my shoes and socks, leaving me in only my shirt and her panties. "Wow, those panties show you off nicely," she said, referring to the fact that they were tight enough to outline almost every detail of my bulge. I started to take them off, but she stopped me. "Hold on – we’ve got plenty of time, and I kind of like how you look this way." She straddled me again, and we spent the next fifteen minutes or so kissing, necking, and dry-humping on that couch. I was so completely aroused by this point, I was sure I’d burst a hole in her panties any second.

"Mmm," she muttered, as she nibbled lightly on my neck. "Listen, I want to take this further, but I need to make something clear – after my ex, I’ve needed to be the one in control of a relationship. I have trust issues, and this is our first time. I’d feel a lot more secure if I could make sure I knew where your hands were at all time. Would you be okay with that?"

I was near-deliriously horny by this point, and willing to agree to just about anything. "Of course." I’d never been tied up, but for Jane, I was willing to start.

"Great – you take off your shirt, while I grab the cuffs from the bedroom." By the time I had my shirt and undershirt off, she was back, with a small plastic bag. She reached in and pulled out a pair of leather wrist cuffs. Each one was strapped on to one of my wrists, and she then clipped them together with the metal studs on them. I was sure that I could probably get them apart, but I was also sure that although my hands were effectively tied together, they could still move around. I pointed this out to her.

"Oh, I’ve got a solution for that," she said. She wandered around behind me, leaned down, and started nibbling on my ear. "Now, lover, this should keep your hands busy, she whispered," as I felt her place something around my neck. Before I could react, she clipped my wrist cuffs to it, and I realized that I was now wearing a collar, and my hands were locked in place, behind my head.

"Um, Jane? I’m not too sure about this."

"Oh don’t worry," she said, as she came around to the front of the couch again. "I can tell that you’re still having fun," she said, looking meaningfully at my still-hard cock bulging against her panties. "And if you ever want me to stop, just say so." She straddled me again, and after another five minutes of kissing, I’d all but forgotten about the collar. My dick, rubbing against her groin (she was still wearing her jeans from work, although the blouse had come off by this point), was as hard as it had ever been, and I was desperate to get inside of her.

She obviously felt the same way, or so I thought. "I think we need to move on to the next stage of things," she said, pulling back from a kiss. I agreed, of course, and she had me stand up and walk around behind the couch. "I’m going to go change into something a bit more appropriate." I smiled, just trying to guess what sort of lingerie she might have. Now, I’m just going to make sure you don’t wander off anywhere. Before I could react, she’d kneeled down and strapped my feet to the couch. "Let’s give your little friend some breathing room," she said, pulling the panties down to my knees. "I’ll be back in a jif," she said, heading into the bedroom behind me.

As I stood there, twiddling my toes through the carpet, I started to get a bit concerned. I had let this gorgeous woman secure my hands to my neck, and put a collar on me, and tie my feet! I could understand her control issues, but it didn’t seem very normal for a woman to own a collar, and as I looked at the restraints on my feet, it was obvious that the straps were permanently attached to the couch, not something that a typical divorced secretary is expected to have! My dick started to soften with the waiting and the anxiety.

Chapter 2 – Getting Dressed Up

Although only a couple of minutes passed, they felt like an eternity. Then I heard the bedroom door open behind me, and she came out, stopping about a foot behind me to the right. "Well, how do I look?" I turned my head, as was amazed – Jane was wearing some sort of skin-tight bodysuit, apparently made out of black Spandex. It was obvious that her body was every bit as good as had been hinted at by her work clothes, as her curves were all shown off perfectly and it was also obvious that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath the suit. The only other items of clothing on her were a pair of black high-heeled boots going nearly up to her knees, a pair of black rubber gloves, and a studded collar around her neck, one I’d guess matched the one I was wearing (I hadn’t had a chance to look at it before she put it on me). She had redone her lipstick, and was now wearing a dark red that made her look even sexier. She was also carrying another plastic bag, although I wasn’t really paying attention to it at the time.

My mouth just dropped open – I’d expected a pink teddy, or something. I was speechless. "I guess I’ll take that as a sign of approval," she said, nodding over at my penis, which had quickly hardened to it’s full length again. She hugged me from behind, and started playing with my cock.

"Jane, I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out." It’s not like I’m an earlier cummer, but after this much stimulation, it wouldn’t take much to get me off.

"Well, we surely have to do something about that," she said, reaching into the bag. I can’t have you cumming on this nice couch, can I?" She reached around me again, and placed a pare of panties on the end of my cock. They were blue panties this time. "These were the panties I wore at the office today," she whispered in my ear, as she started to rub the panties (which were more than a little damp, as she’d also been wearing them we were on the couch), up and down my shaft. "So you’ve managed to get your dick into two pairs of my panties already."

After only a few more seconds of rubbing, I was ready to cum, and she obviously felt my body start to contract, as she move the panties so that my dick was pointing into the rear of the panties. That orgasm was one of the best of my life, and certainly better than anything I thought I could get from a hand job. I couldn’t believe how much I spurted there – the panties were barely able to contain them all, and I knew that after a couple of minutes, my cum would soak through.

So did Jane, I’m sure. "Wow, Alan," she said, still holding me from behind. "That was impressive." As she talked, she took her hands away, and I heard her reach into the bag for something. "There’s only one problem."

"What’s that," I asked, trying to regain my breath.

"Well, these panties are dirty, and I just used the last of my detergent on your pants."

"Oh," I said, still a bit confused and attempting to think clearly after that incredible orgasm. "Well, I’m sure that afterwards, I can –" Before I could get any further, she shoved something soft in my mouth. "Mmpth," I said, as she reached around me with her other hand and places something – tape! – across my mouth. By the time I realized what happened, I had her panties, soaked with my cum, in my mouth.

"Oh, that’s so sweet of you! Only the nicest guys would offer to do a woman’s laundry. And you must be enjoying it, since you’re not asking me to stop," she said, clearly realizing that I couldn’t ask a damned thing.

She leaned down and pulled my panties back up, covering my now limp penis. "Now, let’s finish getting you dressed," she said. I heard her rummaging through the bag again, getting more stuff out. As she emptied it out (behind me, so I couldn’t see any of it), she continued talking.

"You know, I can’t believe how easy this was. I mean, how could you fall for that stuff about ‘trust issues’? Getting you immobilized doesn’t haven anything to do with my ex – it was just so I could own you." I’d never heard her voice as harsh as this, and I certainly never had associated her sweet personality with someone who would talk about owning someone.

"I’ve seen you ogling me at the office. You’re just one of those guys who uses people. I was there to fuel whatever fantasy life you had. If you’d asked me out or something, I might not have been as upset, or even if I just thought you were shy, but you just enjoyed staring and using me for your masturbation fantasies." I tried protesting, but my mouth was full, and any attempt to talk only resulted in more of my own cum getting on my tongue. "So I decided that I was going to have to use you for my sexual pleasure, just like you used me." I hardly felt that some mild fantasies were the same as this, but I wasn’t in any position to say.

As she talked, she wrapped a skirt around me. It was a plain grey one, loose, and going to just above my knees. I was less surprised, by this point, at the skirt itself, than I was at the fact that it wasn’t tight or made of leather. I felt her doing something to my feet, and on looking down, I saw her placing cotton balls between each toe. She looked up at me and smiled. "I’m just going to make your toes nice and pretty. And I’d recommend keeping them still – otherwise I might paint other parts of your body." She gave my ass a swat as she said the last.

"This stuff should dry pretty quickly," she said, while she was painting my toes. "Of course, your toes won’t look all dainty, since I don’t have the time to give you a full pedicure, but they’ll look better." I could see that the color she was using was a bright red. She told me to not to wiggle my toes for five minutes, while the polish tried, and then she moved the bag around to the front of the couch, and kneeled on the couch facing me.

"Well, while that’s drying, let’s work on your face!" What? She reached into the bag, but instead of pulling out a makeup kit, she had two long pieces of wire. She attached each one to the collar, and then attached them to studs on the couch. My neck was now immobilized. She then took out a larger collar, and wrapped it around the smaller one (and my neck and hands), so I couldn’t even nod my head without starting to choke. "Now that you can hold still, let’s get to work." She pulled out the makeup kit that I’d expected before, and proceeded to put mascara, eye shadow (blue, from what I could see), eyeliner, and foundation on my face. She covered my cheeks with blush. She then frowned as she got to my mouth.

"Well, I hope you’re done with your laundry! It’s time to work on your lips. It’s okay if you gasp a bit when I take the tape off, but I expect you to remain silent!" She then ripped the tape off – it didn’t hurt that much, thankfully – and pulled the panties (soaking wet, but only with my saliva) out of my mouth. I gasped for air, and attempted to plead my case.

"Jane, I-". She grabbed my chin with her hand and squeezed my cheeks.

"No no no! What did I tell you, sweetie?" Perhaps the most disturbing thing about this entire evening was that Jane still had that sweet Midwestern voice. Keep quiet. All that stuff I told you about how we could stop as soon as you told me so was just a lie, anyway, so don’t waste your breath." Still holding my chin in her gloved hand, she reached down and picked up some sort of lip pencil. Although I know there are all sorts of weird types of makeup women use, I had still been expecting a traditional tube of lipstick. After she outlined my lips with the pencil, she got a brush out and painted them. I couldn’t see the color as she did it. In fact, I was distracted by her lycra-covered breasts rubbing up against me as she applied the makeup. I wasn’t getting aroused again, but I was starting to feel a stirring again.

"That looks perfect," Jane said, as she put the makeup away. "This isn’t my favorite color of lipstick, but this style goes on dry – it won’t smear or rub off for hours!" Oh, joy. She took off the large choke collar (but not the wires holding the bondage collar in place), and held up a mirror for me to see. I looked ridiculous, of course. My eyelashes, always long, now looked ludicrous, thanks to the mascara. My face looked darker with the foundation and blush, and my eyes had a light blue shadow above them. But the worst was my lips. The color she used wasn’t one of the sophisticated but sexy styles that I’d seen her wearing to the office. It was a bright red, the color of a maraschino cherry.

"Jane, please! This is ridiculous!"

"Dammit, Alan!" This was the first time she’d really raised her voice all night, and it startled me. She sighed, again grasping my chin and squeezing my cheeks. "If there’s one thing that really frustrates me about guys, it’s that they only think about themselves. You’ve gone and had your orgasm, and now you aren’t even worrying about making me happy." While she was saying this, she had reached behind me with her other hand, and I felt a strap on the back of my head. "Much as I’d love to put your mouth to good use on me, I’m afraid I’ll have to do this instead."

As I started to ask her what she was talking about, I felt her shove something in my mouth. Unlike the panties, this was solid. I felt her adjust the strap, and I realized that she had placed a ball gag on me. I’d seen them on the internet, but never even seen one in real life before.

"There. That should keep you from talking, although I’m afraid I’ll still have to punish you." This wasn’t punishment enough? "That gag shouldn’t be too big for your mouth, and it’s one that has airholes in it, so you should be fine." In fact, it felt more like plastic than like the hard rubber things I’d seen on websites. Airholes or not, I still couldn’t make any sound more articulate than a grunt. Jane unclipped the wires from my collar, so I could now move my neck, at least.

"Now," said Jane, as she hopped of the couch, with the much emptier bag in hand, "we need to come up with your punishment." I had a feeling that I’d have "earned" the punishment no matter what I did, just as I was now certain that everything from the spilled coffee to the pink sweatpants to making me come before she did was planned.

"But before we worry about your punishment, let’s check out your nails. She crouched down and lightly touched my toes. "Yup, all dry!" Jane then slid one of the bolts that my leg was attached to up about two inches, forcing my foot off the ground. She then slid a high-heeled sandal onto my foot. It was slit so my bright red toes were still visible. She then did the same with the other foot. I watched as she slid the bolt, to see if there was any chance of my lifting my feet out of the restraints, but I saw that she had to press something on the bolt to slide it up. When she had the other shoe on me, she strapped both to my ankles (no chance of slipping them off) and stepped back to admire her work.

"Well, aren’t you just perfectly feminine?" She paused, looking over me. "Actually, we need to do something about that hair." She started rummaging through the bag again, and I figured that she was looking for a wig.

Then I heard a buzzing, and realized what she was talking about – she was shaving my legs with an electric razor! She was thorough, shaving my calves and lower legs until they were nearly perfectly smooth. "We’ll take care of the last of the stubble later," she said. She didn’t shave above my knees, probably because the skirt covered everything else. But she did get back in front of me, using the razor to shave off all of my chest hair! I’m not the hairiest guy in the world, but I felt strange not having any hair at all on my chest.

"Well, I think that looks just about perfect." I was tied up, with my arms bound to a collar, wearing a skirt, panties, and high-heeled shoes (which combined with being unable to move my arms, made it hard to catch my balance), with red-painted toenails, garish makeup, and a ballgag, and Jane called it "perfect!"

I heard a click and there was a flash of bright light. I was disoriented for a second, but then I realized what she was doing – she was taking pictures! She stepped to the side to get a profile shot, than took one focusing on my feet. She finally stepped around in front of the couch and took some more pictures of me. The camera was a digital camera – in fact, I remember Jane asking me for advice on which model to buy! She leaned in, kissed me on the cheek, and said (as she headed back into the bedroom), "I’ll be back in a minute! I just need to load these up to my website."

She didn’t have to say anything else – I could read the implicit threat there – if I tried to do anything (not that I could, tied up as I was), she had blackmail material on me. I’d seen the makeup job, and I knew that anyone who knew me would be able to recognize me in the photographs. I could only stand there and wait, trying not to fall over, as she uploaded the pictures. I had no idea what Jane had planned for me, but I knew that this was already going to be the most unforgettable weekend of my life.

Chapter 3 – The Long Night

"Well, that’s done, anyway." I jumped when I heard Jane’s voice. She hadn’t shut the bedroom door, and the carpet was soft enough to absorb the sound of her footsteps. "Now, we need to start thinking about your punishment for that little burst of backtalk."

She reached around me from behind and started rubbing me all over with her hands, while rubbing her breasts against me. I noticed that she’d taken the glove off her right hand, although her left was still in rubber. She gently squeezed my cock through the skirt, and when she felt it hardening again, said, "well, I’m glad to see you’re still enjoying yourself. Let’s see if you’ll be as happy when I put on your next piece of clothing."

Before I could begin to wonder what that might be, she came around to the front of the couch and crouched in front of me, so that our faces were at the same level. She bent her head down and sucked on my left nipple, gently biting it. Although I’d occasionally had lovers who would play with my nipples, I’d never had this sort of sensation, and the newly shaved skin was extra sensitive. While I moaned in ecstasy, however, I felt a sharp pain – she had placed a nipple clamp on me! It was attached to a chain, and even as she lowered her head to the other nipple, and I did my best not to let her get it hard, I knew exactly what would happen. Sure enough, in no time at all, I had a pair of nipple clamps on me, with a chain connecting them. The pain wasn’t excruciating, but I could see that there were screws attached to the clamps, and I knew that she could tighten them anytime she wanted to.

"There! Didn’t you start to get curious when I didn’t put a bra or something on you? I think these are so much sexier!" Jane snapped another photo. "Now, I don’t think I’ll tighten these now, but if you’re not a good boy, I may have to play with them later." She gently kissed my now extra-sensitive nipples, and then stood back up, in front of the couch. "Of course, you talked out of turn twice, so I need to come up with some other punishment for you, too."

She reached out and grabbed the chain connecting the two clamps. The pain intensified, and she pulled on them, causing me to completely lose my balance (thanks to those high-heeled shoes), and fall over the top of the sofa. While I was still disoriented, Jane attached the chain to a hook on the edge of the couch, and I was immobilized. She then unattached my left hand from the collar on my neck, and stretched it out to my left, where she reattached the cuff to yet another hook. After repeating this action with my right hand, I was completely tied down. On the plus side, since I was now resting my weight on the top of the couch, the shoes were no longer hurting my calves.

Jane walked around behind me. I had a pretty good idea of what was coming next. The heels and the angle at which I was strapped down meant that my butt was sticking high into the air, and given all her talk of punishment, I figured she was planning on spanking me.

Her words soon proved me right. "Aw, isn’t that cute – your cute little butt is just sticking up into the air, practically begging for a little swat." She lightly smacked me as she said this. She flipped up the skirt, and pulled down the panties. "How many spankings do you think you deserve? Five? Ten? Oh, let’s just go for an even twenty."

I hadn’t been spanked since I was a kid. I figured it couldn’t be that bad, and the first few weren’t. The first five or so were with her bare hand, and although the stung, they weren’t too bad. The next five were with the hand in the rubber glove, and I swear she was also swinging harder, because those five hurt like hell. My ass felt like it was on fire by the tenth swat.

"Well, that’s a good start, but those swats are hurting my hands. And your ass just isn’t getting red enough. Let’s see if I can’t improve things for the final ten." The next swing hurt more than the first ten combined. I had no idea what she was using, but it felt like a paddle. Each swing was progressively harder than the last, and by the twentieth, I was on the verge of tears, and I was wondering what the hell she was using. When she walked around to the front of the couch and sat on the coffee table, I saw – it was a hairbrush, with a solid wooden handle. "It’s one of the few toys I can leave out when my parents come to visit," she giggled, as she ran it through her hair.

Jane spread her legs, so I could see the outline of her lips, and the small damp spot that had leaked through the lycra. "Now, we’ve got a problem. I brought you back to amuse me, but I was expecting a few orgasms out of you. But you had to talk out of turn, which means your mouth is out of commission. And you went and wasted your penis before I even got started! So we need to find a way to make me happy."

She pulled yet another item out of the bag. It was a contraption of straps and buckles. I couldn’t figure out what it was for, but she expertly strapped it on herself, and although there were some extra straps hanging by the side, there was now a large buckle right over her clitoris.

"This is a slightly modified belt for strap-ons. The first modification is this buckle, which allows me to swap different dildos onto the end. I’ll show you the other modification later." A dildo? This was too much – I’d never had as much as a finger stuck up my ass. Now I was having visions of something as large as my forearm shoved up it. I’m sure Jane saw the fear in my eyes, because she took her time rummaging through her bag of toys, before finally pulling out what turned out to be a surprisingly small black dildo – no more than four or five inches, I’d guess. The term "anti-climatic" came to mind, but I wasn’t planning on letting Jane hear that, even when I could speak again.

"Don’t worry. I’ve got bigger ones, but I wanted to warm you up with this one, first." Jane stood up, and showed me the back of the dildo, which had a pair of bumps on it that she explained would rub against her clit through the bodysuit. She then clicked it into place. It looked a hell of a lot more ominous sticking out from her like that. Then she walked behind me, and I the next thing I felt was something cool being rubbed on my ass. It felt great at first, since my ass was still stinging from the spankings, but she then started slipping the lube into my asshole, inserting first one, then two of her gloved fingers. It didn’t really hurt, but it definitely felt uncomfortable.

Then she slammed into me. I didn’t think that such a short dildo could hurt so much, but I just hadn’t been prepared for having something inserted in my asshole like that. Jane thrusted in and out of me for a while, actually pulling all the way out and reinserting herself each time. Then, as she started to get more excited, she simply leaned into me, keeping the dildo inside of me and just wiggling her hips to get herself more stimulated. While she was doing this, she also started nibbling on my ears and neck, and lightly flicking both my nipples and the clamps. Between the various pleasurable and painful sensations, I was completely disoriented.

Eventually, I heard and felt Jane start to shudder, and she clearer reached an orgasm. She slumped on me for a few minutes, idly toying with my nipples. Then she murmured, "thanks, lover. I guess you were able to get me off without using your dick or mouth. Now it’s time I show you the other modification I made to the strap-on belt." I felt her reach back and do something, and then she slowly backed away. As she backed away, I felt the dildo stay inside of me!

"You see, there are extra straps on this belt, so I can use it to strap the dildo inside someone, too." As she said this, Jane reached around my waist and attached two of the straps together. She then flicked the base of the dildo a few times, making me quiver. As she tightened the straps, she grabbed my cock, which was now rock hard, thanks to the prostate stimulation she had been giving me. "Well, looks like your penis is finally ready for some action again. A little too late, though. You won’t be using it again tonight."

Jane then walked around to the front of the couch. She thrust her crotch, now fully soaked through with her juices, right at my nose. "See how worked up you got me, lover?" As she said this, she grabbed my hair and all but ground my nose into her wet spot. Her smell was intoxicating, which only made my immobilization more frustrating.

Jane walked around the couch again, taking more pictures with that camera. She pulled the panties up and flipped the skirt down between shots, so she had pictures of me in plenty of different poses now. After uploading them, she came back into the room, and without warning, pulled off the nipple clamps. My initial relief vanished quickly, as the blood rushing in made my nipples feel like they were on fire. Jane either didn’t notice, or didn’t care, as she removed my arm buckles from the sofa and reattached them to each other. She then did the same with my ankle cuffs, attaching them to each other. With the shoes I was wearing, standing up was almost impossible.

It turns out it wasn’t necessary, either. "Now," Jane said, as I tried not to trip, "It’s been a long evening, and since we’ve got a full day tomorrow, we need to put you to bed now."

She reached over and attached something to my collar. "Since you’re dressed like my bitch, and since you just got fucked like a bitch, you need to be walking like one." Hearing her use such harsh words in that sweet Midwestern voice of hers was almost surreal. Although crawling was harder than I’d expected, with my hands and feet so close together, I was able to crawl into the bedroom that she led me to with the leash. She led me into the bathroom, and finally let me stand up so I could piss before bed.

Jane then tied me down to the bed. Instead of attaching my cuffs directly to the bolts in the bed, she was nice enough to attach the cuffs to nearly-taut pieces of rope, which gave me a few inches of movement. After securing my legs to the bed and removing the shoes, Jane crawled up and straddled me, resting right on my rock-hard cock. Her weight also placed more pressure on the plug that was still in my butt. She smiled sweetly down at me.

"Now, sweetie, let’s go over a few ground rules for the night. First, I will remove your gag in a second, because it won’t be easy to get to sleep with it in your mouth. I don’t expect you say a word, however, unless you want to spend the night wearing those nipple clamps again!"

I shook my head vehemently.

"Good. Second, yes, you will be wearing the dildo all night. Don’t worry – it’ll soon feel like a part of you. And finally, sleep well. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day. I intend to put your mouth to work doing all the things it couldn’t do tonight." With that, she leaned forward (deliberately grinding her groin into mine even more), removed the gag, and left the room, leaving me alone in the dark, wondering what else she could possibly have planned for me.

 

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