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From: Mule <mule@tpe.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Bar Scene (Part II - Femdom)
Date: Fri, 23 Feb 2001 19:10:05 -0500
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Bar Scene (Femdom)


I dried off and was ushered back into the bedroom. The women
found a bra that fit well enough and got me into it. I was given
a pair of panties what were way too small for me. I could feel
them against my newly alive skin pressing in on every cell. My
penis stuck out of the top and Gwen grabbed it and shoved it over
to the side. The silk encased it like a condom. I saw a drop of
precome soak the material and spread, making that part of the
garment transparent.

"Anyone got spare panty hose?" Arlene asked.

Glenda clapped her hands, "I have just the thing. I got a run in
them when I put them on this morning." She returned in a matter
of seconds with a wadded up ball of nylon and tossed it at me.

The women laughed at me as I tried to step into it. Gwen laughed,
"No, stupid. You have to roll them up and roll them out over your
legs like a pair of big condoms." I could feel myself blush at my
blundering attempts to get dressed, however the women seemed to
be very amused by my act.

Glenda helped me roll them up. With Arlene's help, she rolled
them up my legs, one woman on each leg. They told me to stand up
so they could pull up the waistband, fondling my ass and penis as
they did.

It Was the most electrifying experience to around with silky
panties sliding around under silky hose. Fully half my body was
being stimulated in a cruelly tantalizing way.

Arlene brought me the skirt that they chose for me to wear.

"Wait a minute," Glenda shouted, "I got an idea." She returned
from the kitchen with a pair of scissors.

"Put your hands on your head," she commanded, "and hold perfectly
still. We don't want to have any 'accidents.' Do we?" With that,
she carefully cut away at the crotch of the panty hose. I could
feel the cold steel of the back of the scissors against my cock
and balls.

She stood up, proud of her work. "There we go girls," she said,
"now if we need to get to his goods, we can."

The women laughed at me as I tried to put an the blouse and
button it "backwards." They were on the wrong side! One of them
shouted out, "Come on, it can't be all that hard. Us girls have
been dressing ourselves since grade school. Surely you can do
better than that!"

The skirt, likewise was tight, but did make it around my waist.
It was obviously designed for a woman much shorter than me, as it
was about mid-thigh. It restricted my movements. I had to be
careful how I bent.

"Now let's see if you can get into these heels." Glenda asked.

It was an excruciatingly tight fit. My feet hurt even before I
put any weight on them.

"Stand up," Gwen ordered, "and turn around. Let's see what we
have."

What they had was probably the ugliest woman in the world in
spite of all the feminine garments wrapped around her. I caught a
glimpse of myself in the mirror and noted that in spite of the
panties, panty hose, and skirt, the bulge caused by my aching and
straining member was still visible.

"What do you think, girls?" Gwen announced. Her question was
greeted with catcalls and whistles from her two friends. "I think
we aren't done yet."

I soon found myself sitting again, this time with six feminine
hands attacking my face with all manner of makeup implements. The
last thing that happened was a wig was placed on my head, and
some brushing going on after that. One of the women tied a bow in
the hair.

"Come this way," Glenda said, pulling me up by the hand.

I clopped my way clumsily behind her in my heels. I had always
found the click of a woman's heel on a hard floor exciting. It
was an announcement, with every step, of the power she has over
me. But those clicks are evenly, slowly, and seductively placed.
My clicks sounded more like a drunken horse stumbling up an
uneven cobblestone street. I nearly fell a couple of times, but I
had an escort of giggling women on each arm to help steady me.

"Here's the kitchen. The wine is over there," Glenda said
pointing across the room, "Glasses are here. There are some crab
puffs and other goodies in the freezer. Get us some wine, NOW,
and then make us some refreshments. Clean up when you are done."

For the most part, the women seemed to leave me to my duties, but
I noticed that every couple of minutes, one of them would find an
excuse to come into the kitchen to check up on me.

The women delighted in feeling me up every time I came by to
serve them.

I was just bending over to place a glass on the coffee table, and
simultaneously exposing my rear end to Arlene who was sitting
behind me when something very unexpected happened, THE FRONT DOOR
OPENED. In walked two young women in their late teens, or early
twenties. One of them stopped immediately, put her hands to her
face and giggled in nervous shock. The other simply walked on
confidently as if this were the most normal setting saying, "Mom,
you're having all this fun and you didn't tell me?"

"Hi, Jenny. Hi Mary." Glenda said.

Glenda turned to me and made the introductions, "Nate, this is my
daughter Jenny and her friend Mary. Girls, this is Nate." She
added quickly, "Mary, I hope this doesn't offend you."

"Oh no," Mary responded, "Glenda told me about you and what you
do with men on your 'dates.' To tell you the truth, I half didn't
believe her until I saw all this. I hope you don't mind my
barging in on you."

"Not at all," Glenda said, "You're welcome to stay."

Glenda turned to her daughter, "I thought you girls were out on a
date tonight, and were going back to Mary's."

"Our dates sort of fizzled out," Jenny explained, "Mary and I
figured that since we were calling it a night early tonight, we'd
do some shopping in the morning. I stopped over to pick up some
comfortable clothes."

"It looks like you guys are having more fun tonight than we did.
Doug and Allen were just too boring. Where did you find him,
mom?"

"None of your business;" Glenda responded, "get a boy of your
own."

Jenny made a mock pouty face in response and said, "Mom, if I
hadn't shown you that Cosmo article, and some of the articles
from some of the other magazines, you wouldn't have even known
about female domination."

Glenda laughed and turned to her friends, "It's true. I taught my
daughter about the birds and the bees, and she goes off to
college and comes back to teach me about B & D." Turning back to
Jenny, she said, "Is that what I pay for you to learn at school?"

"No, mom, I learned this stuff in the sorority." The other women
raised their eyes at this.

"Let me grab my stuff, and we'll be out of your hair," Jenny
announced. "He's cute," here she pinched my ass as she walked by,
"but he's a little old for me. I like 'em younger and hornier."

I thought about what Jenny meant by "younger and hornier." I
couldn't imagine being able to control myself at all in this
situation when I was a teenager. I probably would have come a
half dozen times already, and in those days I could. I know. I've
spent some time with magazines of my own.

As embarrassed as I felt in front of the three women, being
exposed to Jenny and her friend was even a greater humiliation.
Jenny was Glenda's daughter. She was easily young enough to be
mine. I thought back a little more than a decade to the first
time I submitted to a woman and wondered what this young woman
was doing then. Most likely she was playing with her dolls. It
seemed that I was scandalizing her, and that made it all the
worse for me.

When Jenny returned, she did change into something more
comfortable. It was a tank top and short shorts and high-heeled
sandals. If she was going shopping in that outfit, she was going
to turn a few heads. I know that she turned one of mine, and
raised the other. This reaction was not unnoticed by her mother.

"You dirty old man!" She exclaimed, "She's my daughter. Don't you
dare look at her that way. It looks like I'm going to have to
spank some sense into you."

"Oh, Mary, wait up." Jenny said, "I want to see this. Have you
ever seen a woman spank a man before?"

Mary nodded "no" adding, "Just my kid brother and then, we were
just kids."

"Nate, go out into the kitchen and bring back one of those
chairs." Glenda turned to Jenny, "Dear, will you get my hairbrush
for me. You know the one I want."

"Of course I do, mom," Jenny said exasperated, "It's the same one
you always use."

I returned with the chair and was directed to put it in front of
the fireplace facing the couch. Glenda sat down and straightened
her skirt. She had her legs propped up on her high heels. In that
position, she looked very much like a schoolteacher I used to
fear.

No words were spoken; I just walked slowly over to her. She
stopped me and reached under my skirt and pulled down both my
pantyhose and panties. My penis bobbed out ruffling the skirt in
front. The skirt was so short; it barely covered the organ.

I bent over and she used her hands to guide me to the precise
spot where I should position myself. She clenched my erected
organ between her legs. I could feel the silkiness of her hose,
but this was just a false sense of femininity. There was power in
those legs. She did work out at the gym. I was held tightly in
place.

She lifted my skirt and adjusted the hem to rest on my waist. Her
hands were cool as she rubbed my butt. She lifted it off, and
delivered several dozen stinging slaps in rapid succession. I
felt like an errant schoolgirl being disciplined by the
principle. Just when my rear was feeling hot and tingly all over,
she announced, "So much for the warm up. Now it's time for the
real spanking." With that, she grabbed the brush, and landed a
solid, thudding blow on the well-prepared surface of my ass.

I winced. This really hurt! Glenda continued to lay blow after
blow on my now throbbing tush in slow, measured strokes. I don't
know how many spanks she gave me with the brush, but I did know
that I feared getting the next one. Somewhere along the way, I
ceased shouting, and started crying. I hadn't cried as a result
of a bodily hurt since I was in the 4th grade. "Atta girl," Gwen
shouted. "Make him cry," Arlene said. "You go, MOM" her daughter
encouraged. Even Mary had a "Wow!"

She finally released me, and had me go stand in the corner for a
while. I shuffled over on my high heels with pantyhose dangling
about my knees. I rubbed my sore bottom, but Glenda would have
none of that. "Hands on your head," she commanded.

Jenny sauntered out with Mary, kissing her mom, and pinching my
ass one more time on the way.

After an indeterminable amount of time during which I heard
comments from the women about how red and splotchy my ass was,
Gwen announced, "Nate-boy, I really should keep you there all
night because of your naughtiness, but then who would serve us.
Get back in that kitchen!"

I pulled up my panties and hose, and straightened out my skirt. I
clopped off on aching feet to the kitchen.

After serving another round and cleaning the kitchen, I was
brought back before the women. Gwen declared my doom. "Nate,
you've been a very good boy. We'd like to play with you again
sometime. That is, if you can really please us. Down on your
knees in front of me, boy!" she commanded.

As I assumed my position in front of her, she raised her skirt to
reveal that she had removed her panties in the course of the
evening. "Come here, boy," she encouraged. I looked at her
womanhood. It was framed with the same dark curly hair as on her
head. There was a glistening pink slip beckoning me closer.
Knowing my duty I crawled forwards and nuzzled my nose into the
part in her hair.

I had every reason to believe that she was, like me, a very
active person during the day, and undoubtedly did not shower any
later than I did. That had to be close to 20 hours ago, given the
hour. No doubt she had not held her bladder for 20 hours either.
The scent of her womanhood was overwhelming, and to me, strongly
intoxicating. There was a revulsion against the odor on an
intellectual level, but a strong compulsion on the primitive
level. I pushed forward and devoured her hungrily.

I had always been a fan of cunnilingus, and even the vanilla
women I dated rarely turned down my offers to perform it on them.
To me, it just seemed like the proper place for a man to be. I
could think of no better way to worship a woman. My favorite
position was under the woman so she can control the action, but
sitting on her throne as Gwen was doing gave rise to a new
fantasy: one in which I was the court appointed licker servicing
his queen. I put my expert tongue to the task.

I was rewarded almost instantly with her most feminine flow. I
savored her taste. Each woman has a different flavor, and I love
all of them. I was lapping at her opening like a starved dog
slavering at his dish. My mind reeled. I was barely aware of the
reaction I was causing in her. She writhed in her chair like
there were a million ants crawling over every inch of her body.
She grabbed my hair close to each ear, and pulled myself into
her. Taking a deep breath, I forced my face in. I sucked, nibbled
and licked her clitoris as vigorously as I dared. Gwen was
inching herself up the chair, dragging me with her.

With an animalistic gurgle, she tensed and heaved, and then
collapsed pushing my head back. Releasing my hair she gave my
forehead a gentle push. Exposed for the first time in minutes, by
face felt the coolness of the room and the slickness of the
deposits on it.

I sank back on my knees. Gwen lay on the chair limp, like a rag
doll thrown there by a girl bored playing with it. She managed a
few pre-verbal grunting sounds, and finally managed in a weak
voice, "Who's next. He's GOOD."

And so it was to my delight to service both Arlene and Glenda.
Glenda had one of the strongest scents that I had ever
encountered. I could identify with her. It was her panties I
smelled on the trip to the house. There was a primeval imprinting
going on here. The sense of smell is one of the most primitive.
There is a direct connection from the nose to the brain, and just
a whiff of the right scent can trigger memories and emotions
otherwise repressed or forgotten. Physiologically smell works by
detecting actual molecules of the scent being detected. In other
words, parts of Glenda's body were actually entering mine at the
most basic level.

I was lost in a haze and loved it. I had no desires other than to
do what these women told me. I don't know what was in it for them
other than the physical pleasure, but for me there was a
conditioning of my emotional state; a state I could only get to
by this long and tortuous road.

"We really need to be getting to bed girls," Arlene announce. It
was so. I glanced through the door and out the kitchen window to
see the pink of dawn.

"Well," Gwen said, "there is just one more thing to do." She
helped me off with the clothes until I was again naked. "Jerk off
for us boy."

I wasn't told to assume any particular position, but I knew
instinctively that on my knees was what was expected. I sank to
them slowly and I placed my hand on my organ slowly stimulating
it to ever greater heights. It was in a constant state of arousal
for most of the evening, and I knew that the slightest touch
would cause an ejaculation. I gently caressed it to a hardness
I'd never know before, and attempted to hold back for as long as
I could. I knew from many masturbation sessions in my youth, that
the longer I held out, the better my ejaculation was. I wanted to
put on the best show I could for these women. All I had to offer
was how far I could shoot my jets.

I shot like a hose that suddenly had the kink removed. The flood
of semen arced across the room, spilling at the women's feet.
Those that fell on my hand surprised me with their heat. I had no
idea how long I had been shooting. Time had no measure on this
evening. All at once it seemed like minutes since I was lead by
my penis into the house; yet it seemed like a scene from an
evening of another era. But I finally stopped.

We all collapsed and cuddled on Glenda's king sized bed. I was
the last to be awakened. The women were already dressed. I was
bidden to take a shower, and get dressed. Glenda drove us back to
our cars. As I got out Gwen said, "See you next week?" Was there
any way I could say no?

---
Mule@tpe.com
http://www.tpe.com/~mule

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