She hated when her tight black yoga leggings revealed all of her embarrassing mess and arousal, causing him to acknowledge it. He didn't even bother to reciprocate in the restroom, he would just leave when his needs were taken care of, like a stallion that had been milked and had to return to the races. Instead, she was left to satisfy herself, with his aftertaste all over her, drenched with semen and humiliation, but still furiously using her hand to try to get past it all and return to normalcy. At times this took longer than she had imagined, distracted by Kurt's messages making her phone buzz, or the annoying awareness that he was downstairs waiting in the car, making her feel the passage of time.
She hated Edwardo, she hated all men - and made sure to compensate for this at home by being extra-vigilant about any 'piggish' behavior.
To Kurt, clearly, this slut was something special - Edwardo reasoned - and she had not just totally pussy whipped him, even forcing him to do tasks for a guy who was clearly banging her. She had made him afraid of her.
"Great, can you give the shirt to Sam on Wednesday?" Kurt asked, eager to finalize and end this uncomfortable conversation.
However, Edwardo was now emboldened, so he wanted to decide the terms:
"I will leave it with Martha, I want it fixed by tomorrow".
Kurt did not expect and was not happy to be talked to like that - doing tasks for him out of kindness, and to allow him to have free time to meet Sam was one thing, taking responsibility for botching them as he was doing now, probably was also in a similar category - after all he was just finishing something he had voluntarily started - but being bossed around after all he was putting up with was quite another thing. Nevertheless it was simple enough to go to the gym and pick it up from Martha, the receptionist, and this would avoid the worst, namely having to meet him. And he had decided to be professional in all this to make the interaction as impersonal as possible. Still he wasn't happy.
"Yes sir," he typed, intending to go along with it but add a bit of sarcasm to let him know that the tone was not ok.
Then he realized that he had been criminally stupid - he would have surely been misunderstood, because Sam had basically forced him to text Edwardo calling him sir once before (to express 'politeness'), and there was no doubt that the circumstances had been out of the ordinary and Kurt had come off as absolutely pathetic.
But he was under duress then, and only complied to make Sam happy. This guy was an abstraction and nothing more. All she had demanded back then was to write a single line.
The thought of a guy - no matter how beautifully masculine - was still repulsive to him. At least the face was. And the legs and feet. Now, he feared, Edwardo might assume incorrectly that giving him orders was ok and that he would turn into a little bitch and gladly go along with it. This was totally not the case. He had failed with this communication.
He thought of a way to clarify his intentions but there wasn't one that wouldn't get even more personal or cause him to write something long, and he wanted to end the conversation very badly now. As he was still thinking about it, the reply arrived:
"Good puta. LOL"
This confirmed his worst suspicions, that his attempt at irony had been interpreted the wrong way, and now it would have been even harder to try to explain. He decided it was better to not answer and leave the ending as ambiguous as possible. There was still plausible deniability and in the best case there would not be any further contact.
Chaper 2
Edwardo didn't give a damn if Sam had a boyfriend or not. He had slept with tons of good looking girls, and they often had boyfriends, or husbands, or both.
If anything, knowing that this particular bitch had a beta boyfriend, who wouldn't stalk him down with a knife (something which had happened more than once in Lima), was a good thing.
Edwardo thought about the strange situation which Sam had secretly put in place, by making them communicate. He knew she was a sadist to her boyfriend, and kept him sexless and pussy whipped, and that he went along with it. Clean pussy that had no other dicks in it was a good thing. He didn't want to know more, he just had no interest and had no intention to get involved in whatever games they were up to.
All he was after was physical pleasure. Even the idea of screwing someone's girlfriend did nothing for him as it was nothing now. At times he accepted this or that other favor because it was convenient and he had no time to do it himself. That is how Kurt became a minor figure that he was aware of - Sam's bitch boyfriend, aka puta, someone who would do this or that other task if necessary, like giving Sam a ride, or taking his clothes to the dry cleaners.
As a dominant male, acts of submission always made him horny. But never with men. But this situation was particular because Kurt was so feminine. Sam had shown him only one picture, when he had asked out of curiosity, because she kept praising him and telling him how different he looked from her boyfriend. To drive her point home she had shown him the most effeminate picture she could find. In that picture, a largely exposed Kurt with shoulder length straight hair, a largely smooth fit but gracile body, and milky skin, was wearing a corset, black opaque stockings, black elbow length gloves and a semi-transparent sexy waist-apron, which revealed more cleanly shaven milky skin and a black round enclosure which she explained was a chastity device.
Kurt had been blessed so far, to ignore that such an intimate and shameful attire, from when Sam had dressed him up to teach him what it's like to be a woman, had been photographed, even shared, and with her bossy yoga teacher of all people. She had wanted him to know how a woman feels, defenseless and exposed, and to understand why men must always be chivalrous and not stare. He had no memory of a picture being taken; then again this was a while ago and they had been drinking that night. He had done most of the drinking. Come to think of it, she had encouraged it with a fair bit of insistence.
When Edwardo lazily pulled that mental image of 'maid' puta out of his memory - perhaps in response to his submissive demeanor, which reminded him so many women he had satisfied before, by pulling their hair, calling their names, giving it to them hard, and more, he found something strange. He had had trannies before, of course. Not too many, but enough to say he had the experience. Nothing too great, but he did get off. But a regular male? He was confused because he found his untiring and burdensome sex organs erect again, despite them having been serviced only a few hours prior by some random slut whose name or even face he could not recall.
He reckoned that he could well have bossed him around and gotten the same satisfaction that bossing around a bitch generally gave him. Just being dominant doesn't mean being gay, he thought. Puta was feminine. She didn't appear to have a beard in that picture. Her chest appeared flat, more so than some asian bitch, but soft and exquisitely white.
He concluded that there was nothing gay in bossing this beta around like his girlfriend already was doing. That it might be fun. And there was nothing sexual about it. Though after thinking this, he felt the need to relieve himself. He had other things to do and had no time to call any of the girls who would have surely arrived, but then stayed longer than necessary. So he started stroking himself, and then harder, and then fast, with no subject in mind other than getting it over with so he could think clearly. Yet the image of sexy, emasculated puta kept coming back to him. It was exciting enough to continue but not enough to finish.
So he picked up the phone again and typed:
"You look good in stockings LOL"
The purpose was not to compliment him - he liked thick, juicy legs, not skinny bitch boy legs, however feminine. At best he was like a barely legal chick. Yes, seen from this perspective he could be into it. But that thought came after. He had only mentioned it to humiliate him.
And that was enough to get him off, which was fortunate because a reply never came. Not for lack of an effect but surely because of an oversized one, which must have left puta speechless. Sam, Edwardo knew, would never have told puta that she had shared his picture with a stranger. He must have felt terribly exposed, and shamed, particularly now that he was taking orders like an errand boy, from the stallion that had made Sam lose interest in all the other guys on her facebook and in her phone - that is, the stallion to whom his girlfriend was now sexually exclusive.
To get past the finish line he used that act of domination, of stripping away puta's pride, like tearing off a dress. This was not unusual for him, he had torn off hundreds of night dresses, skirts, bras, sometimes delicately, sometimes damaging them on purpose, depending on his reading of the girl, with the predictable effect of obtaining arousal. More unusually though, as he continued to stimulate himself, he found that his arousal was magnified by imagining a cute response appear on his phone, such as "thank you Sir".
He remembered the barely visible milky skin under the semi-transparent waist apron, identical to a girl's shaved crotch except for the shameful exposure of puta's caged, submissive parts. And he imagined how small puta must feel, knowing that his girlfriend, who never allowed puta anything sexual, now had a steady lover, one puta should obey to, to avoid pissing her off. It would definitely be sexy to see puta, now shamed and stripped of dignity, blush and bow - to rest his large trunk-like appendage right on her head, as he had done with Sam many times. "Thank you Sir," would say the feminine puta in this unique and novel fantasy - a fair bit shorter and so much smaller than him.
She would thank him for complimenting her photograph and emasculated look, and perhaps her denied boy-clit would be leaking from inside the chastity cage, leak from shame and overstimulation and from being in the presence of a larger, muscular male. His dark overactive sex organ would rest on her head in an act of domination. He would demand that she kiss his balls to demonstrate that her gratitude was genuine. And milky white sexy puta, on her knees the whole time, would do so, while he stood next to Sam, kissing her.
