Snowed In Pt 02 1

My heart was beating and my head swimming but I stepped away and into the kitchen. As I was making the lunch I thought about the morning we had just shared together. It was undeniably hot, the sex was amazing, and I had to admit that it felt so good, it awoke a deep part of my sexuality that I wasn't even sure I knew existed. Standing in the kitchen in a short t-shirt and thong, my ass bare, making lunch for Karen, I couldn't help feeling like ... well, her girl. There was something so intoxicating about her muscles, her strength, her aggression. I had a vision of hanging off her arms, of her lifting me by my ass, of me wrapping my legs around her powerful body... As I dreamed of this, my cock was thickening in my thong.

I was so lost in this vision of fantasy that I didn't hear her come into the kitchen and come up behind me. She kissed me on the neck and said, "Sweet, Julie. You're such a good girl." She wrapped an arm around my front and touched my cock, discovering I was already semi-hard again.

"Oh, Julie likes her thong. She likes being my little housewife," she said, as she gave my dick a squeeze. I moaned in response.

"Look how ready you are again. You're like a bitch in heat... begging for it." And she kissed my neck again before pulling away.

I felt like I was drowning in desire and sexuality. Our sex life had always been good but never like this -- I felt exposed, controlled, and I wanted more of it.

Despite her humiliating words, my heart was pounding and my dick was rock hard. I was a little disappointed when she moved away -- I wanted her to take me again.

She looked at me with a knowing smile.

"Remember how long we'd have to wait for you to get hard again in the past? Looks like we've solved that problem."

It was true. In the past, when we'd had more vanilla sex, I'd cum before her and she would try to get me hard again. It usually didn't work and I'd end up serving her orally. Now, all of a sudden, I was able to get hard again almost immediately after we'd made love.

"You're just so hot, Karen." I said, turning to her.

"Thanks, babe. But I think you like my body combined with this new dynamic. It speaks to you and well... to your inner girl," she said before sitting down at the dinner table.

"Now, what's for lunch?"

I brought over her protein salad with chickpeas and chopped chicken and the dressing I'd made.

"Oh, this looks great baby. Thank you."

She gave my ass another squeeze as I turned away from the table.

"Also, sweetie, please bring me a beer."

I knew she was leaning into this new dynamic now. Karen didn't drink much beer but was clearly enjoying usurping my role in the relationship and taking on the male position. I quietly followed her instruction, twisted the cap off the bottle, and brought it before her.

"Thanks, sweetie. You'll make a great wife yet."

After lunch, I was doing the dishes when I asked Karen if I could change into my normal clothes. She had changed that morning into a pair of jeans and a white tank top while I was still moving around the kitchen in a short t-shirt and thong.

"What's wrong sweetie? You don't like your new outfit?"

"Well, I just think... I'd like to get into my normal clothes for a bit. To be honest, it's a little cold."

She surveyed me for a minute as she thought about my request.

"OK, honey. Want me to get you one of my sweaters?... Just kidding. Well, how about this? Let's do a series of challenges to see if you can be the man for the next 24 hours."

I was skeptical, "Like what?"

"Well, we could arm wrestle but that seems a little unfair. You'd never have a chance. Your arms are just like little girl arms compared to mine -- so smooth and thin." She wasn't wrong -- her arms were sculpted and strong and as she said it she squeezed my arm with her strong hand. I had really no bicep to speak of.

She continued: "How about you show me that you can be the man and I'll let you put your clothes back on for the rest of the trip? You only dress as Julie when we want to have fun in bed?"

I smiled and breathed a sigh of relief, "Sure! That sounds good." I was happy to go back to how things were -- with some gender bending fun in the bedroom but otherwise living my normal, male life.

"OK so we'll have three manly challenges..." she contemplated for a second.

"The first will be to shovel a path from the house to the car. That's a man's job and it should be pretty straightforward. I'll give you fifteen minutes."

I looked at snow outside the window -- it was a lot of snow but I could definitely do it.

"Great," I said.

"OK, the second one will be to chop firewood for the fire tonight."

"No problem."

"And the third one, let me see... that'll be a surprise... but I think you'll like it."

Her coy smile that she had something sexual in mind which sounded great to me.

"OK, I'm up for it. Let's go." I said with enthusiasm.

I quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a hoodie, put on my winter gear and stepped outside to start shoveling the path.

I began by shoveling the snow and, as I did it, I realized just how out of shape I was. The snow wasn't particularly heavy, but I was relying on muscles in my back and shoulders that I hadn't used in quite some time and it was slow going. I realized, as I was about halfway there that I only had about five minutes left. I tried to double my speed but then realized that I could only go so fast.

Then I decided to shovel not all the way to the ground but just to make a path in the snow so that we could reach the car even if it wasn't perfectly cleared. I carved out a path and then began to widen it just as Karen shouted "Time's up" from inside the cottage. I threw down the shovel and went inside.

She looked at me with a bit of a skeptical expression: "I mean, technically, that's a path, but I wouldn't say it's finished."

I was panting somewhat and brushing snow off of my hat. "Hey, you said a path to the car. I made you a path to the car. It might not be a full path, but it's a path."

She crossed her arms and looked at me skeptically before saying, "OK... I guess... does this mean you're technically a man, not a full man, but ... a man?"

"Hey, you said a path, and I made a path."

"OK big guy. Well for the next manly challenge, I don't just want you to cut a chip off of a log and say you've chopped the wood. You need to chop enough wood for the rest of the day -- at least 20 good sized logs."

I smiled at her, said OK, and stepped outside.

The logs were piled alongside the house and I collected a few dry pieces and brought them to the chopping block before picking up the axe. I placed one piece on the block and raised the axe in my hands -- it felt heavy and I had to admit I struggled to get it completely overhead.

I brought it down on the wood but not with enough force to really make an impact. The axe was barely in the wood. I tried again with a little more luck but not much.

I had never really chopped wood before and didn't have a sense of how to do it. I'd seen guys do it in movies and assumed it was pretty easy but so far I wasn't having any luck. On my fifth attempt I put the axe high in the air and drove it down as hard as I could. This time it went into the wood about an inch but not much more. By now my shoulders were burning a bit and I was starting to feel tired. I was starting to worry that I wouldn't be able to get through this part of the challenge but I was determined to try again.

I looked back at the house and saw Karen standing in the kitchen window. She gave me a supportive smile.

I pulled the axe back out of the wood, raised it above my head and swung it. Again, it went in, but not by much.

I was pulling the axe out of the log when I heard some rustling near the tree line. I looked over and saw, coming out of the woods, a medium sized grey wolf! It looked at me with its eyes and I could tell it was coming towards me. I had no idea wolves lived near the cabin -- the storm must have driven it out in search of food. I saw it eyeing me and bearing its teeth with a low growl.

I panicked and shouted, in a frightened, high pitched voice, "Wolf!" before dropping the axe and backing away. My adrenaline must have peaked because everything slowed down and I felt an odd combination of panic and focus. It was a fight or flight moment and my brain definitely chose flight: I backed away as the wolf came towards me. My heart was pounding and I could feel sweat coating me. I was terrified.

I turned and began to run for the front door but I ran straight into Karen who must have seen the whole thing and come outside from the kitchen. I bounced off her powerful body into the snow and fell with a view of her back and the wolf. She was still wearing her white tank top and I could see the thickly layered muscle on her back and her round shoulders. The white spaghetti straps of her top looked tiny in comparison to the width of her upper body. Her neck was striated with veins, indicating that she was in a state of hyperawareness.

Somehow my terror mingled with my desire as I surveyed the muscles in her body. My heart immediately calmed down and I felt safe. I watched in awe as she stepped quickly towards the axe and grasped it in her arms as the wolf moved forward. She held it over her head and shouted in a loud, deep voice, "AWAY! AWAY FROM HERE! GO! GO!"

The wolf looked at her, met her eye, and then whimpered slightly before lowering its head and sheepishly turning away from her. It disappeared into the tree line. As fast as the confrontation had begun, it was over.

I was still sitting prone in the snow and I looked at my wife who had turned to me. Karen was an image of muscular, feminine power. She put the axe across her shoulders and I took in the scene of her thick biceps, her large breasts, her tapered waist and her heaving chest. Looking down at me I could see her engorged nipples and her powerful muscles. Defeating that animal had actually turned her on.

She was an amazon goddess who had just proven to me her power and her dominance while I sat at her feet like the cowering girly boy that I was. Where I had run away, she had confronted the danger and saved me. I was more a damsel in distress than a man and there was no disputing it now: she was my alpha, I was her girl.

She looked at me with a gentle, beneficent smile and said, "I think that settles the competition" and with that she laid out a hand and helped me up to my feet. I clambered up alongside her and silently nodded in agreement.

"Let me finish chopping this wood. In the meantime, you can clean up the house for me. OK, Julie?"

I looked at her sheepishly, "Yes, Karen."

"Start with the rest of the dishes and then clean up our room." She smiled again and slapped me on the ass.

I smiled at her again and asked, "Won't you be cold?" as I traced her powerful forearms with my delicate hands. I wanted to touch her, to hold on to her stability and security.

"I'm fine. Muscles generate heat. I'm not skin and bones like you, sweetie. Now go inside. Do as I say."

"Yes, Ms. Karen," I replied and kissed her thankfully on the cheek.

I knew the question of our gender roles was finally decided. We couldn't have had a clearer demonstration of which one of us was stronger, more powerful, better suited to defending the other. If the goal of the competition was to settle who would occupy the man's role, then it had served its purpose. In the face of a threat to our home, I panicked, wilted, and ran like a scared girl. Karen had leapt to my rescue, confronted the threat, and protected me. My weakness and her strength were now both absolutely clear and stood in stark contrast with one another.

I stepped into the kitchen and looked at Karen outside the front of the cottage. She hadn't come in with me but had stayed outside in the snow. While it was a picture of winter out there, it wasn't especially cold and she looked comfortable in her tank top and jeans. The melting snow and the sun glistening in the trees and reflecting on the ice gave the scene a magical, winter quality and her muscles shone in the crystalline light. I watched as she stretched her arms, her shoulders and arm muscles bunching together, revealing her strength and power.

She raised the axe that she been holding over her head and brought it down forcefully against the log. It split in two. Where I had stumbled and ineffectually tried to prove my manhood, she succeeded easily and naturally. I watched with envy and admiration as she picked up another log and placed it on the chopping block. Her black hair was tied behind her head and provided a feminine counterpoint to the power of her neck and strength in her back. I could see her biceps popped and straining as she raised the axe again and brought it down. The wood split, again, beneath her masterful stroke. I licked my lips with desire.

Karen had settled the question decidedly. Her strength was immense and far beyond me. I was a quaking girl in her presence and I had to recognize both the reality of the situation and how much I wanted it to be this way. She had taken the best parts of masculinity and femininity and perfected them both in her powerful body. I felt my own nipples hardening as I traced the outline of her strong curves.

Any fight or resistance that I had felt was gone. My body spoke a new truth to me that Karen had helped me see: I was her girl and she was my man. I surveyed her powerful body with desire, dreaming only of the moment when I could worship her strength with my hands, my lips, and give myself to her like an opening flower. I wanted her to take me. Her muscles, her power, her alpha status were all like drugs to me. I was yearning for her to come inside so I could worship her strength and tell her how much I wanted her to take control of me. It was like a new self was being awakened inside me, a self that wanted to wrap its thin, pliant body around her powerful, thick, muscular womanhood. I knew what to do.

I finished washing the dishes, continuing to take in, with lust, the scene of my powerful wife and her amazonian body doing what I couldn't. I then moved into the spare bedroom and found what I was looking for. I took out a pink thong from Karen's luggage and slid it up my bare legs.

Rummaging through the drawers of the cottage owner, I found a pink short top with the word "Bebe" on the front. I held it against my body: it only came to above my belly button but it served the purpose. I also found a very short skirt, something that looked like a school girl's outfit -- this was perfect.

My legs had always been relatively hairless and slender so they didn't need any work but the rest of my body did. I quickly shaved my armpits as I listened to Karen continuing to chop wood outside. Then I shaved my pubic area so that my penis was hairless. I wanted to look as slutty and desperate for sex as I could. I traced the razor along the contour of my crotch as I listened to her splitting the wood -- I looked at my own small, delicate hands removing any last vestiges of masculinity from my body as I thought of her powerful arms outside cracking the wood. I had visions of my own hands with nail polish, perhaps a sparkling ring or two, all to show my femininity and my submission to Karen's power and dominance.

I slid the thong up my legs and wriggled into it, feeling it nestle in the crack of ass and contain my penis in its pouch. I then stepped into the skirt and slid the pink top over my body. I also found perfume in the bathroom and sprayed some on my neck. Finally, I spread lipstick along my lips. Looking at myself in the mirror, I was impressed at just how quickly and easily I had crafted a feminine version of myself. I looked more and more like how I felt inside: small, weak, yielding, feminine, girlish. I looked like someone waiting for their powerful man to come and protect them, to fuck them. I knew it wasn't perfect but I told myself I would get better at being Karen's girl. I practiced pouting my lips and batting my eyes when I heard the door open.

"Honey, I'm done," she called from the front door. I inhaled deeply and stepped into the hallway.

If it were possible, she looked even more like a vision of the powerful, muscular woman I was yearning for. Chopping the wood had left a sheen of sweat over her body and there was a slight stain of perspiration at the front of her tank top, revealing the outline of her large breasts pressing against the fabric. Her nipples were engorged and stood proudly against her chest. Her muscles were swollen from chopping the wood and I could see the firm definition of her biceps, her shoulders, and her chest. She looked like a statuesque goddess carved out of sex and muscle.

When she saw me her mouth opened slightly and her eyebrows raised.

"Julie... my girl."

I walked towards her. In her winter boots she stood slightly taller than me and I stepped on my toes to bring my lips to hers. I wrapped my arms around her thick neck and caressed her powerful back muscles with my hands. I kissed her softly and gently.

"Ms. Karen... my master... my protector." I kissed her neck gently, like a doting, servile wife. I kissed her with the reverence of a worshipper at an altar, licking the sweat from her body.

"Thank you, Ms. Karen, for protecting me. You are my goddess, the master I need. I will learn to be a good wife to you." I kissed her again, gently as she instructed.

I moved my soft lips to her shoulders and biceps and kissed them gently as she had instructed.

"Your strength, Ms. Karen... I worship your power."

I kissed lower and lower, moving around her breasts and then moved to my knees. She stood in front of me silently and imperiously. I brought my delicate hands to her belt buckle and undid it while kissing her abs.

"Please let me thank you for taking care of me, for being my master."

I sunk to my knees and looked up at her with a look of submission and desire as I unbuckled her belt and opened her jeans. I could see that she was already wet with desire. I pulled her panties aside and licked her as she stood before me.

"Yes. Worship me."

I took her command as a divine instruction, eager to please the goddess before me. My tongue danced around her clit, feeling the warmth and wetness of her desire. Karen's legs quivered slightly as she watched me, her hand resting on the back of my head, guiding and controlling my movements.

The taste of her was intoxicating and her gentle guiding soon turned more aggressive and powerful. Her strong hand pressed my face into her sex. My mind was flooded with images of submission: kneeling before her, being fucked by her, worshipping her muscles. It just felt... right.

Her breath grew heavier, her chest rising and falling with each intake of breath. I could feel her getting closer to the edge, and I increased my efforts, licking and sucking faster, my finger moving in rhythm with my tongue. She began to moan louder, her hand gripping the back of my neck as she pushed my face harder into her. I was lost in her, my own cock straining against the fabric of my pink thong.

I could feel her engorged clit in my mouth and I worshipped it like a cock. Slowly, she pulled away from my mouth. Without saying anything she stepped out of her jeans, her muscled legs before me like two pillars of strength. In a swift movement she squatted before me, meeting my eye, and then placed her firm hands under my arms and slid my body over her shoulder. I didn't resist.

She stood up from the squat with me draped across her shoulder like a virginal girl set to be deflowered. She lifted me like a rag doll and I felt my cock pressing into her powerful chest. She held me there and pulled the skirt and the thong off my body. I felt naked, conquered, subdued, and delirious with desire. She strode into the bedroom with my thin legs dangling in front of her -- I looked at her powerful back, her round, firm, muscular ass and her defined calves.