My Life With Jasmine Pt 04 Moving

By the time I finished unpacking, it was late.

That's

when I remembered that one of Jasmine's two bedrooms served as her office.

"Miss Jasmine?"

"Yes, Sweetie?"

"Where am I going to

sleep

?" I was

dreading

the couch.

"With me, of course." She pointed to her California King.

"With... you mean in your

bed

?"

"I certainly don't mean

under

it.

Or

in my

closet

. I

like

having someone to cuddle with. And if I become aroused, your mouth is right

there

."

Jasmine wanted me to spoon with her. Her warmth and perfume caused my aching cock to rub against her smooth buttocks.

She

found my state amusing. "If you

leak

, you will lick me clean," she warned me cheerfully.

"Can I have an orgasm?"

"Not tonight."

"But- That makes cuddling with you really hard!"

"You mean

you

are really hard.

Oh

! This is new to you, isn't it? You never slept in

Lisa's

bed, did you?"

"No. I was always

under

it."

"Well... you'll just have to remember what I said about sexual discipline."

"

Please

?"

"Am I going to have to

punish

you on our first night together?"

"No, Miss Jasmine. I'm very sorry I disturbed you." I started to get out of bed.

"Where do you think you are

going

?"

"I'll just step into the bathroom, and take care of myself."

"

Your

hands belong on me!"

"But-"

"I

suppose

we need to settle this." She switched on her nightlight and faced me. "We do not have an egalitarian relationship-"

"I

know

that!"

"Then do

not

interrupt.

I

will receive orgasms from

you

,

whenever

I want.

You

will

only

receive orgasms from

me...

whenever

I

want. Is that

clear

?"

"Uh... Yes, Miss Jasmine. When can I

have

one?"

"

You

are

persistent

." She tapped my nose. "For every 15 times you make me cum, you will earn an orgasm."

"

Fifteen

!"

"Would you prefer

twenty

?"

"No!"

"Then

I

suggest

gratitude

."

"Yes, Miss Jasmine. Thank you."

You're

welcome

. You've already earned a credit for that

excellent

encounter earlier. And I

promise

you'll earn more tomorrow. But right,

now

, go to

sleep

."

After I cooked breakfast, we sat at Jasmine's kitchen table while she detailed my duties. "Here." She presented me with a smartwatch. "When I need you, I'll send you a message."

I put it on with a feeling of disappointment. "This is very nice, but..."

"Yes, Dear?"

"Would you mind...using a

bell

?"

"You want me to

ring

for you when I want you?"

"

Please

? If it's not too much trouble."

"Of course not. I

told

you, I want you to be happy. Get me a cute bell when you go out for groceries."

"Thank you."

"Hm. Ringing for you will be

fun

. Now... I will plan the menus. You will shop for groceries, cook, clean, and do laundry. I'll give you instructions for my lingerie when you undress me."

"Yes, Miss Jasmine."

"I know Lisa used you as her personal maid, but I have my own preferences. I will expect you to remember my likes and dislikes."

"Yes, Miss Jasmine."

"You will bathe me, take care of my hair, shave me, and give me massages. Do you know how to give manicures and pedicures?"

"Yes, Miss Jasmine."

"We shall

see

. I'm

very

particular about my nails. I'm

also

particular about my clothing, especially my

footwear

. Should a pair I wish to wear be in less than perfect condition... Don't forget that I control your

orgasms

."

"Yes, Miss Jasmine."

"How is your fashion sense?"

"I-"

"I'll give you a few days to learn my tastes, then I'll expect you to choose my outfits."

"

Thank you

, Miss Jasmine. I'd

really

like that!"

She chuckled. "You're

welcome

. Speaking of what you

really

like, it's time to earn an

orgasm

credit." She leaned back in her chair and uncrossed her legs.

Jasmine surprised me with a large, stiff cushion. I could sit on the floor facing her and lean back against it while I serviced her feet. "However," she informed me, "

this

is for

work

. When you want to

worship

me, you will

kneel

."

After dinner, she liked to cuddle with me on her couch. Sometimes, she'd put her feet in my lap. "Just make sure there is more

rubbing

than

kissing

."

Jasmine's punishments were

imaginative

. For a minor offense, when I was about to join her on the couch, she would remind me about my infraction, and then say "

footstool

."

I had to strip, get on all fours, and serve as her hassock. She would ignore me while she entertained herself. Occasionally, she would massage my neglected manhood with a bare foot. If I leaked, I had to lick her foot clean. As she intended, this punishment was as

boring

as it was sexually

frustrating

.

Floormat

was

much

worse. "Strip. Unless you are otherwise engaged in my service, you will lie face up under my

feet

. You may not respond in

any

way. And, of course, you will not ejaculate. Disobedience will cost your next orgasm."

She would then proceed to rub her bare feet over my face and my manhood. Several hours of this torment, combined with her

constant

demand for oral sex, would reduce me to an aroused, whimpering, begging

mess

.

If she was

really

mad, I had to explain to her why I did not deserve my next orgasm,

and

request a spanking. Then I had to lay face down across her lap, with my manhood between her thighs. She made

certain

I was aroused before she laid into me with her hairbrush. She knew as much about

pain

as she did about

pleasure

. I think she

enjoyed

my pleading and begging.

Jasmine did

not

exaggerate her desire for sex. How could such a

feminine

trans lady be so

virile

? Didn't she take hormones? I was

not

going to ask, but I was

really

puzzled. She respected my wish to not violate my ass, but I sucked her cock, her "she-beef" as she called it, a

lot

!

Since

my

orgasms depended on

her

orgasms, I developed ways to keep track.

She would set my smartwatch alarm for thirty minutes before she wanted to get up. Most mornings, she slept on her back. If she was on her side, or her stomach... according to her, I have a creative tongue. Besides,

that's

why she gave me the extra time. She usually woke up just before her morning wood fed me a

Wakeup Call

.

After we ate breakfast, Jasmine, still in her robe, liked to remain at the kitchen table and sip her coffee. As long as her legs were

crossed

, I would clean the kitchen, and lay out ingredients for lunch and dinner. But if she

opened

her legs, I crawled under the table for

Second Breakfast

.

During her midafternoon break, she would change into shorts for a run, and return home soaked with sweat, and high on endorphins. She liked me to rub my face against her crotch, and pull her shorts down without using my hands. Her sweaty cock was

not

tasty, but it wasn't in my mouth for very long. She would grab my head, and piston her hips until I took

Afternoon Tea.

Then I would help her shower and change.

If she was in a tedious teleconference, I would squeeze under her desk and silently relieve her boredom with a

Between Meal Snack.

After dinner, Jasmine usually changed into pajamas, and sat on her couch. She liked to pull my head into her lap while she talked on her phone. If her conversation became risqué, or if she was just in the

mood

, she would tap the back of my head. I would swallow my

Digestif

without disturbing her conversation. If even a single

drop

stained her PJs... as she warned me, "Why spoil the surprise?"

Jasmine showered just before bed. After I soaped her, and stroked her to slippery hardness, I would kneel, engulf her, and receive a

Good Night Kiss

as I took away the day's stress. Not very tasty, but

always

satisfying.

I didn't swallow every one of those every day, but I earned an orgasm two or three times a

week

. I became aroused

whenever

Jasmine fucked my mouth, even

Afternoon Tea.

But

Goodnight Kiss

was

especially

frustrating; my hands had just been all over her nude body,

then

I had to spoon with her. Every night, I went to sleep with my aching manhood rubbing against her smooth, sweet buttocks.