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I’ve been traveling with Shawn Michaels and Big Daddy Cool Diesel. I’ve been putting on the super sexy act with them, being a cock tease. That night I share a hotel room with them and sat between Diesels’ long legs watching TV with Shawn lying next to us. Diesel wrapped his arms around my waist and started running his hands up and down my ribcage. He leans over and whispers in my ear, “You’ve been teasing us for the last couple of days.”

I just shrug and go on watching TV. Pretty soon Shawn gets up and puts his coat on then whispers something in Diesels’ ear and leaves. Diesel then leans down and starts to kiss up and down my neck. I can feel his goatee brushing along my neck. I love having my neck kissed so I arch it so he can reach it better. He knows this is turning me on so he continues. Finally, he whispers in my hear, “I want you to be Big Daddys’ little girl and Shawn wants you to be his as well. I know with the way you’ve been acting, you want us too.”

I just moan and nod. He reaches down and pulls the t-shirt I wear as a nightgown over my head and starts running his rough hands all up and down my chest.

I reached up and put my arms behind his head so my whole chest was exposed to him. He had me arch up my hips and reached down and pulled my panties off. He then let his hands wander all over my body. I can feel his huge erection pressing into the small of my back. He then started talking to me; “Outside the bedroom you will be an equal partner with us in every way. But inside the bedroom we are your Daddys and in charge. We will treat you like the slut we know you are and do what we know you like. If you want it slow and easy once in a while just say so. But we both know you like it rough and hard and we are the ones to give it to you, alright?”

I just nodded. By this time Shawn came back and Diesel nodded and Shawn smiled. He disposed of the shopping bags in the bathroom. He then stripped down to his underwear and disappeared back into the bathroom, returning a couple minutes later with a couple of towels, a big bowl of hot water and a washcloth. Diesel bent his legs and propped mine on top of his then spread them far apart, exposing my whole genital area.

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C h a p t e r  O n e

Her door clicked shut behind me, signaling the beginning of our first real session. Mistress Dominique and I had been somewhat heterosexual lovers in the recent past and that had evolved into a unique friendship, which through my introduction of her to S&M had brought us to this beginning.

We met during my divorce. She was 5′9 in her stocking feet, half-Spanish, half African American, so her looks, skin and body were from fantasyland. Classic beautiful features of Mediterranean and African were sculpted over her face, and a deep copper glow appeared over her skin when excited. Her breasts were large. She wore a 44-DDD bra and, for a woman in her late 30’s, only a natural sag because of their tremendous volume. Large, dark nipples, the thickness of my pinky finger and slightly over an inch in length, jutted out from expansive deep and dark, copper-colored areolas. Her ass, one of the first sights I had of her, was marvelous, a modified bubble ass of her maternal African American heritage–but a little more wide for her size and perfect!“Take off your clothes, now, Cumslut!” her strong voice commanded from behind me.

I immediately obeyed. My cock jutted out through my jockeys as I pulled them down and within me a warm glow, a fever of sorts, a feeling of total submissiveness, burned. Harder and longer than I could ever imagine, or remember my cock became completely the center of my consciousness. I knew what to expect somewhat and this 6.5 organ controlled me completely; my bliss to do whatever she wanted just to have this epitome of erections.

My divorce was over my latent homosexual urges, ones I had had as a teenager but had suppressed completely. My wife reacted badly when I came out to her about my urges. And not long after that, I began going to Adult Bookstores and watching gay films, masturbating incessantly. A few times I slid my hardon through the Glory Hole and was pleasured by a gay in the next booth. So much did I want to kneel and service a cock with my mouth! But something inside me held me back…

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The phone rang, and Jennifer jumped. Darlene, her roommate, gave her an annoyed look and picked up the phone. “Hello? Yeah, this is Darlene. Huh? Oh, sure…I have it right here.” Flashing Jennifer another annoyed look, she picked up her math assignment sheet and started to read an assignment from it.

Jenny hugged her pillow close to her, listening to the phone conversation and trying to take refuge in its relative normalcy. It wasn’t him. Thank god it wasn’t him. She pressed her cheek into the soft fabric of the pillow, and held it tightly. Her eyes stared to the side, her mind fighting once again to deny what had happened to her before. It seemed like a dream now, but Jennifer knew it had not been a dream. She could not wake up from this nightmare.

She heard the click as Darlene hung up, and heard her roommate stand. She didn’t look, but she knew the expression that was on Darlene’s face; it was Darlene’s exasperation look, with her eyebrows jagged and her lips pursed together tightly. Jennifer had been seeing Darlene’s exasperation look quite a bit lately.

“You want to tell me what the hell is going on, Jennifer?” Darlene snapped. “I can see being startled by the phone, once, maybe twice, but EVERY FUCKING TIME? What’s gotten into you? You’re so jumpy lately… and you won’t tell me why! What’s wrong, Jennifer?”

Jennifer was silent for a moment. Once again, she was tempted to just blurt out the whole story, about Mark, about his powers, what he had done to her. And once again, she stopped herself. For one, she didn’t want to draw anyone into this beside herself. And for another…who would believe her? Jenny barely believed it herself.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she mumbled.

“What?!? The hell, nothing’s wrong! You’ve completely weirded out on me, Jen! You stay in the room all day, moping around, staring into space. You won’t answer the phone anymore, and it seems to scare you to death whenever it rings…you won’t talk to anyone, you don’t go out anymore…you can’t tell me nothing’s wrong. Give me some credit, Jennifer!”

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She stumbled out of bed to answer the shrilling phone, still half asleep. She barked her shins on a pile of notebooks on the floor. Across the room, her roommate groaned and rolled over in her sleep. She hurried a bit more to get the phone before waking her roommate up.

“Hello?” she asked sleepily.

“Morning,” came the reply. She recognized the voice of her master immediately.

“Hello, sir,” she said, and her voice had a much more submissive tone. “Why did you call me?” She wished she was at his apartment. So much better, to lie with him and awake with her small hands bound in a bondage belt, with the warmth of his body nearby and having the excuse of fetters to allow her to lie in bed.

“I want you to come to the dining hall and have breakfast with me. Also, I want you to wear a skirt today. Above the knee, I think. And your stockings and garter belt.”

“Why?”

“You’ll find out after English. You can wear flats if you want, but bring your heels along in a bag. Oh, and if you wear underwear, it has to be something that comes off easily. Wear your silk ones with the bows.”

“OK, sir,” she said, wondering inside what he meant. She would be glad in an hour for having eaten, but right now she wanted more than anything to crawl back into bed and sleep. She had half an hour before class. But she obeyed, wondering why all the while.

He was no more tractable at breakfast. He allowed her to get three bowls of Captain Crunch, something he usually forbade on the grounds that it was junk, but anytime she asked why he wanted her dressed that way he only answered, “You’ll find out after English.”

English. Short Story Writing, specifically. The last class she had on Fridays, the only one she had with him. So many times, that had been the last thing she did before spending a weekend in erotic submission to him. The simple thought made her belly turn over.

The whole day she was unable to keep her mind off it. What did he have planned? A weekend of submission? Maybe. But that was hardly uncommon. So why all the secrecy? And why the costuming? In classes, she found herself writing his name and WHY? WHY? WHY? on her notes. She tapped her feet incessantly and waited for the class to end. She supposed people were looking at her. She didn’t care.

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The rain lashed it’s cool touch across my face as I stared at the number on the front door. Anxiety and arousal lined my stomach with lead as I hesitated on her doorstep. I remembered when I posted my advertisement to Usenet last week, eager to meet a woman with whom I could explore my most erotic virgin fantasies. I’d always enjoyed honest sex but I’d never dared allow my repressed desires to surface. But now I had done it! I had advertised and now I was here, to meet a like-minded woman for the first time! My mouth was dry and I felt afraid as I pressed the doorbell. The harsh shriek of a buzzer made me jolt out of my reverie. The woman I was to meet was called Kelly and she seemed to be a lovely person via e-mail but she was obviously more experienced than I.

From behind the wooden door I could hear the rhythmic thumping of feet on a staircase. Through the opaque glass of the door I could see a female shape moving towards me. A sudden guilty image of my girlfriend passed through my mind. I loved my girlfriend but she was not interested in anything other than the normal, pedestrian sex that we’re familiar with. The lock on the door retracted with a metallic scrape and a smile greeted my frightened and wet visage.

“Hello,” she grinned, “You must be Jon.” I returned her smile nervously.

“Yes,” I answered pathetically. She was definitely attractive. She was not classically good-looking but well-formed and pretty. I felt a warm surge of shame as I thought how I must appear. My long hair was wet and straggly and the cold weather would not have flattered my proud nose, either! Kelly did not seem to notice and she ushered me inside.

She led me by my hand up to her bedroom and sat me down on the bed. I just sat there at first, watching her as I began to relax. She retrieved a towel from the bathroom and started to rub my hair dry. I could smell her scent as she stood over me.

“You’re a bit nervous aren’t you” she said softly.

“Yes,” I swallowed. Her left breast brushed against my cheek as she dried my hair. “I’m sorry, Kelly. You know I haven’t done this before.”

“Don’t worry,” she answered, “I like you.” My arousal at her and the promise of what was to come was rapidly overcoming my diminishing nerves. As she finished off my hair, I swept a glance across her bedside table. There was a tube of lubricant, a silk headscarf, a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold.

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