Natalie's Secret
Thank you. Last night was an adventure - my own personal one-woman lingerie show. It was better than Victoria's Secret for multiple reasons: the model was the most beautiful, I had a front row seat (the
only
seat), and it was total pleasure and pain.
When I showed up to your house last night, the candles, incense, and Korean folk music played low created a nice ambiance. But mellow... I was worried my plans for treating you to some rough play were a wash out - you were going to treat me to some "vanilla-only" tonight as revenge for not consenting to some of your domme demands 5 weeks ago. I"m Dom tonight, like 90% of the time...
You called me from upstairs to come up. Good start, I"m thinking. I can head straight for your bedroom, no detours.
You're in your bedroom, standing in the middle, wearing dumpy cleaning lady clothes."Sorry... your'e early, you say.
"No, we agreed on 7:00."
"It's 7:00 already?" You play-act. "I guess my watch is slowing. Sorry you see me like this! I better go change. Why don't you have a seat? Please use the chair. In fact, I insist."
I see next to your bed that there's an oak office chair with arms. I sit and you come out from behind a folding Korean room screen that's blocking your dressing area.
"Oh, I forgot to kiss you in welcome," you say. You come out still wearing the cleaning lady duds, and have a pair of jeans in your hand. They're mine, the ones I gave you last week for your church bazaar because they are too tight on me.
***
Last week:
I had a pair of expensive designer jeans in 'discard pile' in my living room. You asked me what was wrong with them. I mentioned they were way too tight on me so I was going to toss them in a charity bin. You asked me to try the jeans on and let you be the judge if they were too tight.
I replied: "I know they're too tight. Before I even zip them up, I can feel my balls being crushed and I can barely do up the zipper. I thought they would look sexy--skintight and showing off my ass, but way too tight and don't loosen up even a little with extended wearing. The discomfort is so bad that I don't even want to think about sex when I wear them. It must be a self-preservation instinct, because If I ever had an erection in these jeans...and well, where would the swelling go? There is no place for expansion!"
"You're right" you said "they would look better just slightly larger. Too bad. Can you donate them to my church's bazaar?"
I agreed.
That was my undoing. I had given you a wicked idea.
***
Now there we were last night, you wanted me to put on the damn too-tight jeans. "Put them on... now! Or get out of my house."
"Shit!"I think to myself. "What did I do to piss you off?"
I started to doff the jeans I arrived in. I was wearing my new really thin pair of black ultra-sheer ice-silk underwear.
"Ooooooh... I like those!" You drool out. "Manties!"
I roll my eyes. "Men can wear nice,
non-sackcloth
underwear. They're thin, breathable... perfect for a hot summer day."
"And nearly see through!" you laugh.
Anyway, I was fortunate to wear them because the jeans she forced me to wear were still way too tight. Thicker underwear would have made things just that much tighter. 'Going commando' would not have been better--going without underwear in those jeans would have been like sandpaper on my tender spots, I think.
I put the jeans on and zip up, with difficulty... then do up the top button, with difficulty. Like last week.
"OK, sit!" you order.
I forgot to mention earlier that sitting was near impossible. I got a reminder of that again last night. I was slowly easing myself into the chair like an 80-year-old man, until you pushed firmly on my shoulders and I plopped into the seat--and in a bit of discomfort.
"Comfy?" you ask.
"Not really," I wince.
You asked me to hold still... or leave. I agree and you pull out some rope from the pockets of the baggy cleaning clothes. You tie my wrists firmly to the arms of the chair.
"I get it, you're Domme tonight... without telling me."
"Not at all, Sugar," you say. "I'm treating you to a fashion show. Ta ta." And you prance away to behind the screen.
I hear the rustling of undressing/dressing, and I'm anticipating seeing you in some super sexy erotic new outfit. Except... I know I better not get aroused or move too much. Ouch!
You dance out wearing your Taekwondo dobok and black belt. OK, not so sexy clothing, and certainly not new... but you do look
super
hot in it! You start to go through a form; your firm, muscular body executing turns, punches, and kicks with precision, power, and speed. I'm impressed! And proud of you!
You bow. "That was the black belt form called 'Taebaek', which means 'Bright Mountain' in Korean." You start to disrobe. You let the dobok top and pants fall to the ground and you step out of the white mound. Your breasts are white mounds! You're wearing a black ultra-sheer panty and bra set that would match my underwear, except yours have solid black polka dots. You laugh, dance and pirouette in front of me, your twirling reveals the white mounds of your firm sweet, perfectly-shaped ass.
"Oh my"... I drool. You stop and stare me down.
"You divined that I'm Domme tonight. Even
you
aren't dull enough to miss that! Your Domme says no talk from you! Only grunts and nods."
I nod in understanding. And I also start feeling increasing discomfort. Your lingerie is killer... and killing me! My cock is firming.
"Oh shit!" you say. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. An erection in those jeans would be really uncomfortable, and maybe even painful if your cock zigs when it should have zagged. And here you are... with tied hands so you can't unbutton and unzip... or even shift your package. Let me kiss it better!" You kneel in front of me and lean in as if to give me a blowjob, then stop. My cock is really swelling now.
"Wait a minute..." you tease, "bad idea! I should hide out of sight behind the screen so you stop seeing me and the arousal will go down." You walk behind the screen.
I shake my head and grunt. "No!" I'm thinking, "A blow job would be perfect! You'll release my cock from this torture chamber... sweet enough! But with your expert wet mouth sucking me fully, and bobbing forcefully...
that's
what I need."
I can hear you changing behind the screen, and you pop out in other outfit: scarlet satin tap pants and matching satin bullet bra, and scarlet satin robe. You model expertly, turning, cat-walking with a firm icy/detached look locked onto your face. You glide by, circling me in the chair. You stop.
"You may touch me, when and where I ask. And
