Rewards: a Bdsm Transvestite Story

Liam would wait hours if she commanded it. He belonged to her. Her wish was his command. The straps were beginning to hurt, but not unbearably so. He hated these lackies she ordered to whip him. It was all for amusement, a test to her. She wanted to see how far he would go, what he could take.

He was a strong man and could take quite a lot. There was no way he would let her muscle boy lackies see him cry. His only defiance. His pride. Waiting it through, the lashes, one after another across his backside, sore and itching with welts, he sang songs in his head. Trying not to think of his Mistress, her small, slender frame, her soft kidskin black gloves...he would go crazy if he thought of it. He would come right here in front of these muscle bound demons who were whipping him. The humiliation would be too great, and then he would surely be punished for coming without her permission.

Just after a viscous crack of the whip across his thighs, he saw her. She stood in the hallway, watching him with dark almond eyes. Her slim frame dressed in a snow white leather skirt that barely covered her thighs it was so short. Her midriff bare under a lavender colored silk blouse tied in the center where breasts should be but were conspicuously missing. She never made a pretense of being a real woman, but the illusion was just as good or even better without artifice. No padding or special garments, just her. A baby faced woman with the body of a dancer and a 7 inch cock.

A wicked smile from her...Giselle. He absently wondered what her name really was? Tom? William? Brian? None of those names were exotic enough. Giselle fit her nicely.

“Has he been a good boy?” she asked the lackies, silvery voice and tongue against cherry lips like a snake.

“Yes, Mistress. He takes the whip without complaint. A good slave you have.” One of them answered before both were dismissed with a snap of her fingers. As they began through the door, she called one of them back. His name was Trent. He stood at attention, waiting for her order.

“Liam, my sweet one...you’ve been good, they say. I am very proud of you. You are well behaved. I would like to reward you. What would you like?”

Liam dared not answer her. He was not sure if she was giving him permission to speak. Was she really offering him a gift?

“You can speak freely. Be honest. I will only reward you this way once. I will give you any fantasy I can give. Tell me, my sweet slave.”

He held his breath. Should he dare ask for what he really craved?

Courage flooded him then and he closed his eyes as he spoke the words,

“Mistress, if you are offering me fulfillment of my utmost fantasy...that would be to have you, Mistress. For me to take you the way I have always wanted to.”

She seemed amused, a light in her eyes. She licked her lips and ran a gloved hand over his bare muscular chest. His huge frame was overwhelming but nothing frightened her. She was in control. She pinched a tight nipple on his chest, then stopped to lick at it a moment with her snake of a tongue. He shuddered under her touch. Would she grant him his wish or would she whip the hell out of him. She walked a =circle around him, long natural hair brushing his shoulder. She stopped behind him, held to his hips with her hands and pressed her skirted hips to his ass.

“You want me?” she asked. “Yes, badly.”

He had not answered her properly. He would be punished for it.

“Perhaps I will give you what you want, but first...Trent, come here and slicken him up for me.”

And Trent, that blond hellfire assistant of hers went to him with a gold jar of cream in his hand. One large finger, then a second entered his anus and stretched him, making the ring of muscles slick with lubrication. Liam bit his bottom lip and felt his cock harden even more. Giselle was stroking his cock now, kidskin covered hand soft and perfect.

“Understand, Liam.” She said matter-of-factly. “I will let you take me, but for your earlier impertinence, I will only allow it in this fashion.” She turned then and instructed Trent,

“Trent, ride him hard. Make it painful.”

Liam felt his nerves tighten, heart racing. Trent was behind him, impressive hardened cock pressed to his asshole. Liam struggled a bit in his restraints, his arms up over his head and his body bent over slightly, his ass pushed out. Giselle, Goddess, w3as in front of him now and he saw it slowly, like a slow motion film, she raised her skirt, spreading her legs. Thigh high stockings, women’s lace pink panties. The pastel colors on her making her seem soft, like Cotton Candy. She reached back and oiled herself with the cream Trent had, and spread herself for Liam. He dared it, knowing he would feel Trent’s invasion as soon as he entered her.

Her tight little bottom was fine against his cock, and he slowly went in, sinking his massive cock into her depths. Trent impaled him, though with none of the mercy Liam had shown his Mistress. They were connected, an intricate machine, working back and forth. Liam felt his Mistress’s cock harden. He knew she was hard, though only through the tension of her muscles. He would come soon, right inside her. Trent was slamming into him violently and as painful as it was, Liam was enjoying the feeling of being filled.

“Release his arms. I want his arms around me!” Giselle ordered and Trent reached up without withdrawing his cock from Liam’s ass, and released the restraints. Instantly, Liam scooped her up in his arms, lifting her off her feet with one arm and impaling her hard with his cock. He found her hard cock under the mini-skirt and pushed down panties, and he pumped it with his hand until she began to come. He massaged her balls, the tightness in them and felt her hot come on his hand. Trent gave him a few more thrusts before he came in the hot tightness of his anus.

“I’ll give you what you want...” she said then. Wicked smile on her face. And she kneeled in front of Liam, ordering Trent to do the same. In a blast of pure heat and liquid fire, Liam came on her, all over her face, the clear white fluid hitting her mouth, her cheeks, her throat splattered with it. Just then, she looked submissive, as if he were the Master and she the slave. He shuddered again and fell to his knees in front of her, engaging her in a long brave kiss on the lips. She held him in slender and graceful arms, and even Trent gently stroked his hair as he lay in her lap.

“I might allow you to take me more often.” She smiled.