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From: Adam Smith <adamapple@bigfoot.com>
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 27 Dec 2000 15:04:26 PST
Subject: {ASSM} New Story: A New Year, part 1 (of 3) Femdom, NC, TG
Date: Thu, 28 Dec 2000 09:10:04 -0500
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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

    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.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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