The Lost Summer
A lover, a lost summer of lust and a husband under a spell
By Nancy Fairchild with vignettes by past & current lovers & devoted husband
nancy.fairchild@hushmail.com
Introduction
Adrian makes kinky seem normal and domination a mild aberration. I like that a lot in a man so, no matter how much he infuriates me sometimes, I have allowed him to lead me on a journey that’s taken some strange turns. For one thing, he likes to ‘gift me’ to his friends. That takes the element of choice out of my hands, which I find sexy. I have been given away to four of his associates, some of whom I continue to see.
I have been having an ongoing ten-year affair with Adrian, who’s a professor at Oxford. I’ve had other affairs along the way as well, after my husband and I moved to London. Adrian isn’t my primary lover, there are two men that share that role. But he’s a more significant lover than my husband and he’s been fucking me almost as long as Brian has, and without a doubt, fucked me much more.
Let me explain that further, because some women might find it strange that other men have sex with me far more than my husband. Who gets to fuck me, and how often they do it, is my prerogative and that includes within my marriage. That was a precondition that frames the structure of my marriage to Brian. The terms I laid out to him when I proposed to him was that I was allowed my complete freedom, but I expected him to be entirely devoted to me. He accepted that with the knowledge that there would always be a sexual imbalance between us.
Adrian likes to hear about my other affairs, and my flings with certain young men I see occasionally, in the most graphic terms. I tell him things that I would never tell my husband in the full knowledge that he writes about me in equally graphic terms in his blog which is read by thousands around the world. He doesn’t hide my identity, nor that of my husband.
I’ve always been conflicted about that, because the blog began at the onset of our relationship and, if you found it and read it, you would know that I have two sons, both born in wedlock but only one fathered by my husband. You would know that I actually ran off with the lover who impregnated me with my second son all the while supported by my husband and the tattoo on my bum is a sort of sign of ownership that I begged that man to design and actually used my husband’s bank card to pay for. You would know that my second son is being raised by his grandparents in Germany, but I see him regularly.
You would know lots of things about me that I wish nobody knew. If you were a friend of Adrian’s and read his blog and you met me, you would assume that bedding me was no great challenge and you’d be right because you could just ask Adrian for the opportunity and he’d probably say yes and I would do as told and give you the fuck of your life.
You would know that Adrian likes to fuck me in the bed I share with my husband and purposely leaves his used condom under the covers when he leaves, knowing I am too dizzy to remember that and my husband will find it in the evening. You might also know that Adrian left his wife for me. He traded one Jewish American slut for another, but the second one isn’t worthy of marriage, in his eyes. He’s the only lover I have that uses a condom when he fucks me which is pretty indicative of what he thinks of me. I have no interest in leaving my husband for Adrian. I may have a long-term infatuation with him, but I love Brian and rely on him totally and he has allowed me to live my own adventure. Adrian would want me to live his adventure.
I will hand it to Adrian, though, as honest as he is about me, he’s equally honest about himself. While Adrian may write about Brian in derogatory terms and refer to him as a ‘doormat’ who took care of his wife while she was pregnant with another man’s baby, he desperately wants to suck his cock and he writes about that constantly. Adrian has fantasies about being feminized and turned into a transvestite prostitute. He likes to be pegged. He has never turned these fantasies into reality, but he writes about how he wants to suck Brian until he is hard and watch him fuck me. He writes about how he would like to dress in feminine clothes and have me force him to suck Brian’s cock and until he shot his load in his mouth.
Brian has no fantasies of being with a man at all and would be repulsed if someone tried to involve him in a homosexual act. Even if I got turned on by Adrian’s fantasies, I would never succumb to them. I find them weird because Adrian is a muscular sort, of Eastern European stock. The thought of him dressed as a woman is ludicrous.
My husband, on the other hand is almost ethereally beautiful. When my mother first met him, she actually gasped. Despite her horror that I married a gentile, I wouldn’t trust her for one minute if she got him alone, and my mother is a very attractive woman for her age and could have her choice of younger men. Brian’s sort of a better looking version of a young Peter O’Toole. He’s a Will o’ the Wisp. He’s also queer bait, in the nicest sort of way. All of my gay male friends would tear off their right arm to bed Brian. Brian is thankfully largely oblivious to female attention but is haunted by gay male attention. He knows he is attractive to men and that bothers him a lot, but he’s exceedingly polite in rebuffing their advances.
I left my first husband for Brian. I have never, for one minute, regretted that although there are lots of things I have done post wedding that I do regret. He has been rock solid throughout our marriage and has never strayed. We don’t have a cuckold/hotwife marriage, we have a one-sided open marriage. He allows me the freedom to do what I want; he supports me in a manner that few women enjoy and he adores me totally.
That being said, if there is one man in my life who would make a beautiful woman, it is Brian. If I told him to shave off all his body hair, put him in a cute dress and a wig and applied some makeup, I could make Brian pass for a pretty girl. He’s younger than me and our age differential is pretty apparent, so he could be a younger girlfriend of mine if I wanted to turn him into one.
If I did ask Brian to do that, it might be a deal breaker as far as my marriage is concerned. He is completely straight and only dreams of fucking one person: me. As soon as this pandemic is over I’ll give him plenty of chances to do that but in the meantime, I am off on an island in the Indian Ocean with a paramour and I have been stuck here for almost eight months and we aren’t leaving until there’s a safe vaccine. I am writing, talking to my husband, sons and other lovers of mine, swimming, being regularly fucked and enjoying life as best I can. Brian, on the other hand, is trapped in a hellish place with our son and is as chaste as a nun.
It’s the longest time I have involuntarily been away from Brian. I did run off for over a year with the father of my second son. Despite that misadventure he welcomed his pregnant wife back in his arms. I’m surprised my mother didn’t use the opportunity to lure him away then because she knows one thing about Brian that few others do: he’s got a penchant for older women. When I entrapped Brian and left my husband for him, I had to wrest him away from the arms of a married woman twice his age.
The first chapter of this story is absolutely true. I wish I had never met Max, but I am glad I did because of one thing: he introduced me to the coastal village of Arcachon in Bordeaux where I have subsequently convinced my husband to buy me a little cottage which we go to often. Max also introduced me to all his friends, who fucked me all summer, and they introduced me to their friends, who also fucked me throughout the summer. I actually had two pregnancy scares during that time with no idea who, among the many, could have planted his seed in me. Every woman should have a summer like that, once.
The subsequent chapters of this novelette are fictional but based on Adrian’s fantasy. I transposed Brian into the role which Adrian would have loved to have played because I could imagine Brian being a pretty girl and could never imagine that fate for Adrian. I involved Leona in the story as well. She is real and has played a part in my marriage. She’s a retired London dominatrix and I have allowed Brian to see her in the past while I am off on holidays with my lovers. I usually have two long holidays every year, one with Charles in the Caribbean and one with Richard someplace in Europe.
I allowed Brian to see Leona in my absence only after I met her and had a frank discussion with her. She knows everything about our marriage. She’s also nice and I like her a lot. And she’s kinky and doesn’t have sex with her clients. She’s older than Brian by a considerable number of years and that is something that pushes his buttons. Leona was Brian’s non-sexual relief while I enjoyed myself with others and it was a way for him to have some fun without betraying me. She allowed him to serve her.
Leona is the only other woman, besides me, whose pee Brian has enjoyed. He loves mine and I love to provide him with it as a sign of devotion to me. Brian drinks my pee during my periods and with remnants of my other lovers floating in it, not just a tiny sip but a full tumbler. It’s a kinky ritual we do that affirms his devotion to me. He kneels before me and I sit on a toilet and pee in a tumbler and hand it to him and watch him drink it. When we are together, we do it twice a day. I love it and he loves feeling that a part of me is in him.
I know when he has had Leona’s pee, he imagines it is mine. That’s sweet. They have a different ritual for that, and it involves reaffirming his devotion to me. Being Jewish I don’t understand the ritual of communion but I can grasp the concept of transubstantiation and knowing that, when Leona has offered her pee to Brian, he is, in his own way, having me inside him through her.
To the best of my knowledge Leona has never feminized a man to the extent the character in this story was, but I could easily fantasize about her doing that. While writing this I really got turned on imagining her doing what I described to Brian and I even got hot and wet imagining Brian being fucked by a man. Writing this story has been a boost to my sex drive and that’s made my current partner very happy.
Kay, the predatory Jewish American woman portrayed in the first chapter, is real and is just one of a queue of Jewish American women who have made plays for my husband since we moved to London. I can’t blame them, but I hate them with a passion. Brian is just as much Jewish American Princess (JAP) bait as he is queer bait. The problem for them is I am the first JAP to find him and claim him as mine, and I’m not giving him up.
Brian isn’t a dandy but dresses well in an understated way. He’s Christian but has been well trained in the art of caring for a JAP. He’s the sort of man that can do anything: from repairing a lawn mower to setting and blow drying my hair or giving me a manicure or pedicure. He does everything with confidence. Our house is impeccable, the clothes are cleaned and pressed, and I barely lift a finger when I am home. He’s also a great cook and cleans up his mess. He’s funny, well read and intelligent. He brings me coffee in the morning in bed and pours me a glass of wine in the evening. If I texted him this morning and told him I needed $10,000 immediately, I would have it in an hour without question. Oh, and he makes a fortune in a very ethical way. I can understand why women would want to steal him away and I’ve got only one thing to tell them: fuck off, he’s mine.
The final confession: writing this story planted a seed in my head. I got turned on by the thought of not just fantasizing about feminizing Brian but really doing it. That’s something I am going to explore when I get back in his arms. He has great legs, his feet are perfect and not too big and, when I am in heels, he is a shorter than I am. I can convince Brian to do anything I want.
When Adrian calls him my doormat, it isn’t fair, but it is true that if, I put my mind to it and use all my seductive skills, I can make Brian do almost anything for me. He wants to spoil me totally and he has since the day I wed him. In fact, when I proposed to Brian, he told me he would dedicate his life to my happiness and he has lived up to that.
I don’t think it would be a big ask for him to allow me to feminize him within the confines of four walls with no windows. What I can’t do is tell Adrian if I am successful at that, because he’ll want that for himself and that is not going to happen.
10 September 2020, Author’s note: Brian really becomes Briana, at a distance
I have been really hot on the idea of turning this story into reality for the last two weeks and I have been unrelenting and bugged Brian to death about it, even though we are a thousand miles apart, so he finally gave in and went out and bought a slutty little dress, bra and panties, heels, tights, a wig and makeup. I can make him do anything I want him to. That’s just a truism in our relationship just as much as his bank account is mine to plunder (I don’t abuse that privilege). Through the wonder of zoom I helped him apply the makeup and we got this photo, which instantly made me wet. The hours of work Brian put into becoming Briana made my lover, Richard, extremely happy because I was a wanton slut last night. When we finally see each other again, I will not only have a husband but also a pretty girlfriend to go out with. She’s quite fuckable, isn’t she? I knew she would make a pretty girl. Please let me know if you think I should have Adrian deflower her.
The photographs are original and of me and previously unpublished and there are original photos of Leona, published with permission, that don’t adequately do her justice. The sexy picture of Briana is my property, as well, as is my husband.
Foreword
The care and feeding of a slut
By Richard Lepetit
If I was reading this novelette I’d like to know more about the author: specifically, what it is like to fuck her. I can answer that because I have been fucking Nancy for a number of years and, exclusively now that we are stranded on the leeward side of an island in the Indian Ocean. A global pandemic has few benefits, but it has allowed me to keep Nancy in my grasp for as long as it takes for the world to develop a vaccine, and I hope that takes a very long time because if there is one thing I enjoy more than anything else, it is fucking Nancy.
Her pussy has a unique flavor, sort of a minerally taste one would find in a Muscadet wine. It’s a clean dry and fruity taste; given her sexual history, one would not normally expect that. I could spend hours between her legs giving her multiple orgasms. She cums very easily and there is no greater pleasure than to feel her thighs tense around my head.
Nancy’s pussy is made for a large cock; fortunately, I am gifted enough to fill her. I can’t imagine how she would be with a man who is smaller than myself. If I fuck her twice in the space of an hour, she is sometimes too loose to fully enjoy but that is a unique pleasure in itself. It’s sexy fucking a woman that needs a big cock to fill her. Let’s face it, for all her talk about being a libertine, Nancy is a slut for cock and it’s always a pleasure distinguishing oneself sexually with a slut because she has so many past experiences with which to compare
She has been well trained for anal sex. That brings out her submissive side, which is something I like to exploit. I took Nancy to dinner al fresco last night. She was just wearing a slip dress, flip flops and a butt plug. When I brought her back, she bent over while I removed it and quickly filled the gaping hole with my cock and fucked her senseless.
She’s a cocksucker ‘par excellence’ and I can testify to that as I am French and know a good blow job when I get one. She has absolutely no problem deep throating my cock and she gets off on it, which is what distinguishes a good cocksucker from an average one. The best cocksuckers, of which Nancy is one of, do the job on command at any place and any time without question. If I wanted a blow job in a crowded bar, Nancy would fall to her knees and perform on command. I know because she has done that for me in the past, much to the pleasure of the audience.
In terms of beauty, which is essential to me in any relationship because I want other men to envy me, Nancy is a trophy I enjoy showing off. She’s also a currency I could trade if I fancy another man’s partner. She is possessed with a rarified beauty. Unless clothed in a manner that would reveal her true nature, she comes across as an alluring, almost waif like figure. She’s blonde, green eyed and has a body meant for only one thing and she knows it. She is comfortable being nude in front of others, which I enjoy because I like others to see and envy what I have. Her pussy is always kept smooth, which is what one would expect in any good slut. She is unmarked except for an ownership tattoo on her right ass cheek some German lover had placed in the past and a tattoo of a devil above her pussy, which I understand is camouflage to cover the initials of some sleazy Brit who had temporary ownership of her in the past.. I might put my mark on her other ass cheek in the future so as to provide her husband a graphic history of his wife’s very checkered past.
One can’t spend the entire day fucking or getting one’s cock sucked. Nancy reads in the afternoon, keeps fit and generally enjoys herself. I keep an eye out for her because she’s a slut and sluts aren’t the faithful type.
The eternal question is always raised: would I marry Nancy if I had the opportunity? Of course not. Her husband can rest in peace. Marrying a slut is a fool’s errand but fucking one isn’t. What I share with her other lovers is a pleasure in spoiling her. I only wish I could do that more.
Sex with Nancy, as told by her husband, Brian
Nancy has asked me to write a brief note about what it is like to have sex with her, which is ironic because there are a number of other men who are far more qualified to write about that than her husband. I am not in her top group of her lovers and haven’t been with her since early February of this year, but I think of her every minute of every day and can’t wait to be back together with her.
I am aware of what I don’t give Nancy sexually and I’m fine with that because I am incapable of providing it. I can only adore Nancy, it would be impossible to do anything else, but her lovers use her and give her a feeling of submission that she craves. There are men who have had sex a multiple of times more with her than Nancy and I have fucked and that’s going to be the case in the future. If a man can’t handle that then he can’t handle a wife like Nancy.
I’ve never been with a woman who wasn’t stunningly beautiful, and I’ve never been attracted to a woman who was my age or younger. And I’ve never had to pursue a woman; ergo, I wasn’t shocked by Nancy’s lightning fast seduction of me, her subsequent lightning fast divorce and our instantaneous marriage, which technically occurred before the divorce was legally finalized. And her terms for our marriage didn’t shock me at all, because I agreed with them even before she discussed them with me. I wanted a woman like Nancy, with her intelligence and confidence, to come along and overwhelm my life. She did completely and naturally as if it was always meant to happen. We both know how lucky we were to find each other.
Women whither on the vine unless they have the freedom to cross societal and sexual boundaries. Women are not born to be in monogamous relationships their entire lives, I think that is more natural for my gender. They become more interesting in time if they are allowed their absolute freedom and have a devoted husband to provide them the security to enjoy life to the fullest. I didn’t marry Nancy for just who she was at the time we met, but for who she would become five, ten or twenty years later. I wanted to watch that journey. We’re at the ten-year point now and she is more fascinating by the day.
One more thing before I get to the juicy part. The only thing I didn’t know before I married Nancy was how strong the bond between a Jewish mother and a Jewish daughter is. Marrying into Jewish culture effectively means entering into an extended family where everyone is trying to micromanage each other’s lives. That’s not for me or Nancy. She seldom talks to her mother which has created a sort of transference of affection where I am now the recipient of the required daily call from Nancy’s mother. Furthermore, her mother has a crush on me. It’s bizarre, but it’s interesting, even more so because Nancy really pissed off her family when she ditched her Jewish husband and married a gentile and had a nose job to look the part.
Nancy’s mother is the second most attractive woman I have had the pleasure to know and if I ever playfully want to pique Nancy’s jealous streak, which happens to be a mile wide, then I simply have to bring up some of the more interesting things her mother has whispered to me on the phone. She can make me hard remotely and knows it.
Before the graphic sex part, I should bring up the things about my wife that drive me crazy with desire. I love her legs, from her muscular thighs to her ankles and feet. She wears stockings or holdups and somehow her skirts never quite cover all the stocking top. It’s one of her many trademark teases she knows that push me over the edge. She cultivates my shoe and stocking fetish which translates into a closet full of very expensive heels and flats and stockings and lingerie galore. Money is no object.
Now to the sex part. I’ve been asked to be graphic, honest and unforgiving, so I’ll be as honest as possible. Nancy has a pussy that’s not meant for normal men. I am not hugely endowed but I have an above normal sized cock and, if I come home and fuck Nancy after she has been with another man in the afternoon, her pussy is loose and doesn’t tighten around my cock. That’s sexy as hell. I like fucking her more when she is loose, knowing another man has widened her, than in the morning when her pussy is tighter. Her pussy has always been that way, it isn’t something that happened after childbirth, and it’s something I have never experienced before, and it is as erotic as hell.
I don’t want Nancy to suck my cock. I like serving her, not her serving me, and that extends to everything in our life. I love licking her pussy. She has a unique, flinty aroma. I don’t know what to compare it to, but it’s sort of an inorganic flavor. She always tastes fresh even after a very naughty night or weekend away. She cums easily and often. I’ve made her cum ten times before I have fucked her. Her orgasms are powerful and come quickly.
I am not into anal sex, but I have a huge thing about licking Nancy’s ass. It’s what I fantasize about doing when we are apart, and she knows I love to do it, so she’ll ask me to worship her ass first when we have sex.
There’s something about Nancy that’s not necessarily erotic but sexy as hell and that’s her arrogant sense of confidence in her beauty and sexuality. That triggers something in me, which also seems to be the case with her lovers. Her attitude creates an expectation of required devotion, it’s not overt or manipulative, it’s just in her nature. That arrogance comes completely naturally, it’s part of her look and who she is and it makes every man she is with want to spoil her even more than me.
There’s something extremely erotic for me about spoiling Nancy in every sense of the word. If I take her shopping and she allows me to go overboard and get her everything she desires, I get a rush that goes right to my cock and I get hard. She knows that and that makes it even sexier.
A final note: We aren’t together now and might not see each other until this pandemic ends. I can handle that because I’ve got work to do and our son to raise. She is off with a lover and seems to be happy, but I know Nancy and she is not one who likes being with only one man for an extended time. She needs the attention of others and the man she is with better know that.
Most women hate Nancy, intensely. They don’t get why I am devoted to her but, if they had any sense at all, they would realize that if they had the confidence to live their lives to the fullest and not be constrained by the normal structures of marriage then they actually might be far more interesting to men like me because I’m better than most men because I love women for who they are, not what I want them to be. Women may hate Nancy, but it would better for them to envy and emulate her.
Preface
A note about Adrian’s Marriage & his Slut Wife
I didn’t cause the breakup between Adrian and Lauren. I’m sure UCLA, in the not very far future, will commission an anthropological study of the sexual differentiation between a California Jewish American Princess (JAP) and her New York counterpart. I can only speak from anecdotal evidence and from a New York perspective, but from my observations, California JAPs view marriage on a transactional basis whereas my species values emotional devotion above all. My husband, Brian, writes legal briefs for class action suits. He does that from a scholarly perspective, and he is impeccably ethical, only working on cases where he feels a contract between a customer and a corporation has been egregiously violated. He turns down far more work than he undertakes.
He’s something of a genius in his own field and judges can recognize his unique literary signature virtually within the first paragraph of his submission and, therefore, add more weight to his opinion than they do to his professional counterparts. I say this because others have spoken so highly of him. Brian is too humble to admit his own brilliance. Corporate defendants often settle out of court as soon as they know Brian is working for the plaintiff. His work pays very well because the upfront fee is substantial and, if the judgment is made in the plaintiff’s favor, he receives a percentage of the legal settlement. And he can work in an office in London or further afield and still represent American clients. Brian easily earns a multiple, by far, of what Adrian would earn even in a slow year, therefore making him a much more attractive figure from a relationship perspective, if one valued financial security above all. However, there are no award ceremonies for people with Brian’s talents. He earns a fortune in obscurity. I like that because he is hidden away, works diligently and provides a wonderful lifestyle for me which allows me to be the libertine that I am. Brian is the opposite of what a California JAP craves: humble, scholarly without being boring and self-deprecating.
California JAPs want to be on the arm of a film producer at the Oscars. That’s it in a nutshell. In lieu of that, they want to fuck film producers who dangle the prospect of a date at the Oscars. Their marriage is simply a platform for them to hunt from. I know Adrian’s ex-wife well and her marriage was a minor impediment to her in her quest to rise to California fame, not through her hard efforts, but by her sexual exploits. She has fucked her way through Hollywood, most of the time while she was married to Adrian. Someone like Brian would strike her as mundane and boring, although he makes more every year than many of the producers she has bedded. Brian wears reading glasses, not sunglasses and is, therefore, not in the class she aspires to. Her promiscuity extended to the time she spent in the UK with her husband. She fucked virtually everyone within the performing arts community in London, barely concealing her affairs. Adrian may denigrate Brian for being a cuckold but, in terms of the shear numbers of men Lauren went through, he’s far more qualified to be judged a cuckold than my husband. In fact, if there was an Oscar award for cuckoldry, he would be the favored nominee.
I am not being judgmental about Lauren’s promiscuity. After all, her ex-husband has been fucking me for ten years. She is just misguided and that’s because she was raised in an environment where fame is valued above all. My affairs are driven by lust, Lauren’s are transactional and that brings up a question: would you rather fuck a woman who enjoys being fucked or would you prefer bedding someone who wants something out of you?
Another note, and this brings out the narcissist in me, which is a trait of mine that Brian admires because he’s smart enough to realize vain women age well and he has a fascination for well-preserved women, which is something I adore because I am older than him and that’s unlikely to change in the future. I’m better looking than Lauren. My mother always used to warn me that, if I moved from New York to California, I would no longer be a ‘10’. Whether or not I am a ‘10’ in California is a mute issue, because that part of America holds no appeal to me. What I do know is a New York JAP ‘10’ travels far better than a California JAP ‘10’ because the latter variety looks slightly ridiculous in an international setting. They have none of the sophistication that my tribe has. So, I can be a ‘10’ in Paris, London, Munich or Milan and Lauren can be a ‘10’ only in Los Angeles.
One could look at my marriage to Brian and question whether or not it is driven by my desire for financial security or real love. I can answer that quite easily. I met Brian at a party in Manhattan that I went to with my then perfectly acceptable Jewish husband. The first time I set eyes on him I knew my marriage was over. Within a minute of talking to him I asked him to take me to his apartment. I never left and I was divorced a month later. I got a nose job and slightly bigger tits and disgraced my family by marrying out of my faith. I never asked Brian about his career, finances or ambitions until we moved to London. I knew he could take care of me but I never asked how or to what extent. What I did know is that he would allow me my freedom and not burden me with the guilt someone like Lauren had, who unsuccessfully tried to hide her extramarital affairs. Brian knew I was crazy and promiscuous right from the start and accepted it and loves me regardless. Adrian only found out what a slut his wife was after the fact and was too self-centered to realize he never possessed what she really wanted.
Chapter 1
Roadmap to Perdition
One of the joys of being a married woman with freedom to do as I please with whomever I choose is the ability to recover from egregious errors in judgment. If I look over my past relationships since I married Brian I sometimes wince and wonder what was going on in my head at that time.
I met Max at a friend’s daughter’s wedding reception in Kent, southeast of London. Even though I was with my husband and was clearly wearing a wedding ring, Max cornered me when he caught me alone in the dining hall. He was handsome and persistent and funny so I gave him my phone number and told him I might consider having lunch with him in the future.
Fast forward a couple of weeks and Max and I were in a full-blown affair. I somehow ignored all the warning bells, like the dodgy East End accent, the vulgar displays of wealth and the tackily decorated house in Hempstead. I had dabbled with men outside of my marriage to Brian and had a few big crushes and some great sex, but Max was my first real big affair. He knew how to push all my buttons and drive me crazy.
When I’m smitten with someone, I actually become more than a bit submissive. Some men are blessed with antenna to pick that up. Max recognized this immediately and took me further than I have ever gone. My six-month fling with Max took me to the depths of depravity. It was also one of the most exciting experiences of my life.
Max is dominant, particularly so with me. In his presence, I was under his total control, as if a spell had been cast over me. Max didn’t just expect a blow job every morning, he wasn’t happy until I could deep throat him. Max didn’t just want me to dress sexily, he wanted me to look and act like a slut. He didn’t just replace my wedding ring with a band of his own, he took me and had his initials tattooed above my pussy. Within a few weeks, I looked like a whore, acted like a whore and, without initially realizing it, had become a whore. Whore’s are supposed to feel exploited. I didn’t. In my own way I pushed him to take me further than he had taken any woman before.
I became his not so exclusive property. I was a present he could lend to his friends for a night or a prize for a winning poker hand. It was not unusual to have sex with Max in the morning, suck one of his friend’s cock in the afternoon and be host for a poker game in the evening where I was the prize for the last winning hand. The fact that there were a lot of whispered conversations and money changing hands was something I purposely chose to ignore but deep down I knew, almost within a month into our relationship, Max was pimping me out for fun and profit. And I liked that.
Hi Nancy
Sure, I remember you. That was a few years ago and I’ve changed a lot since then. Believe it or not, I’m married and have two children and I’m paying taxes. I remember you as a very dizzy hot sexy blonde who just loved to fuck. I just thought all American women must be like this. You were almost too much for me so I let my friends enjoy you too and you liked it and pulled a few trains when we were in France. You were wild. I can’t believe you were married all that time. Are you still with him? The summer was kind of out there, kind of a like a fuck-a-thon and I remember you were scared that you would get pregnant and you just walked around the house just wearing fuck me heels and nothing else. It’s amazing you didn’t get knocked up. You had a great body. I hope your pussy is as fuckable as it used to be. I just got hard thinking about it.
Yeah, Leona was as kinky as fuck. I hope she whipped your husband into shape.
Max
While I was with Max I was fucked in the face, the pussy and the ass, sometimes all at the same time and often by people whose name I didn’t know. I began to understand how women of a certain intelligence could fall under the spell of a pimp and consider themselves lucky. I developed a severe case of amnesia when it came to my husband and son. My recent past seemed hopelessly dull compared to the maelstrom Max created and, for days on end, I wouldn’t give a thought to my home. When I did there was a complete absence of guilt on my part. It wasn’t a character-building experience, in fact I lost something briefly that made me, me. I lost the ability to be loved and temporarily gained the ability to appreciate being used.
The sex was out of this world. It wasn’t just that he had a nice big prick to worship, it seemed to fill me up like no other man had before. It became a standard that I would judge against every prick that I sucked or that fucked me since. Max had the stamina to fuck me through three orgasms. In just three months he turned a Jewish American Princess into his own fucktoy for himself and his friends to enjoy. I would do anything he asked without question. Max had no inhibitions about having sex with me during my periods, he just used my ass for fulfillment instead of my pussy. He taught me to enjoy anal sex. In fact, I did my first double penetration with Max and a friend of his.
I never minded when Max filmed me having sex. If it got him hot, it turned me on too. He sent videos of me to all his friends, who passed them to all their acquaintances. If I ever met someone new with Max, I just assumed they had already seen me performing countless sex acts before.
This time was bad for my marriage to Brian. I was spending six days and nights with Max and the seventh with an artist I was also having an affair with. If I made it home at all, it was for a couple of hours in the afternoon while Brian was at work and my son was in nursery school. What’s more, Max had rented a house in Bordeaux for three months in the summer and he expected me to be there with him the entire time and I desperately wanted that too.
I made a rare appearance at home on a late spring Saturday morning after spending the entire night partying with Max and his friends. Needless to say, there were some illicit substances involved as well as too much alcohol and sex. I was wearing a short leather skirt, laddered holdups, high heels and a transparent blouse that clearly showed my breasts. I had the trademark large gold hoop earrings that every slut in London wore and a tacky necklace that Max bought me that did nothing to hide a couple of hickies that adorned my neck. I was made up like a slag with false eyelashes, blue eyeshadow, and pink lipstick. In short, I looked like a street whore. My pussy was still wet with cum. My breath probably reeked of a combination of alcohol and spunk.
I had come home with the intention of telling Brian I was going to be away in France for the next three months and I was leaving the next day. When I opened the door to our apartment the sheer normality of the domestic scene made me catch my breath. My son was playing with a friend on the floor and my husband and my son’s friend’s mother were sitting in the living room having coffee.
I had met Kay before and never paid much attention to her. She was a Jewish American divorcee who had moved to London a year before, during which time her son and my son became playmates. I had never seen her made up or dressed like she was. It takes a predatory slut to recognize another one and I could immediately tell by the way she was dressed and the rapt attention she was giving my husband that she had every intention of taking him from me. Both Brian and Kay looked shocked by my sudden appearance, but Kay looked on me with utter disdain while Brian looked with concern. In fact, when Kay gave me a complete look over a sly smile crept on her face.
To be honest, I hadn’t thought much of Brian during the three months I had been living in the whirlwind that surrounded Max. I had fallen somewhere between love and addiction to Max. Brian is the polar opposite of him. He’s actually far handsomer than Max, far more intelligent and far wittier but he doesn’t have that edge that I find so compelling in men. Max is dangerous. Brian is safe. The only reason I allow myself to be drawn to men like Max is the sense of security that Brian gives me.
The threat of another woman undermining my relationship with Brian sent me into a fury. I didn’t show it, though, because I knew I could barely string a sentence together. I just stormed into the bedroom, slammed the door and locked it and fell down on the bed and passed out.
I woke up eight hours later to an empty apartment and a note on the dining room table letting me know that Brian had taken our son out for pizza. There were ten missed calls from Max on my phone. I called him back and told him I couldn’t go to France unless he could figure out a way to stop Kay from seducing my husband. He assured me he could do that quite easily and told me to get ready and he would pick me up from the pub down the street from our apartment. I showered quickly, dressed the way he liked and quickly made my way to the pub where, against my better judgment, I had one glass of wine while being ogled by every horny man in the bar.
When Max arrived, I hopped into his car. He asked about Kay and, for the first time, asked what I wanted for the future with him and what I wanted to happen with my marriage. I was honest with him and said that, after the summer in France, I would like to go back to a more normal life or as normal as I can be. I wanted more than anything to keep my marriage intact. I added that I would maybe consider seeing him after the summer but not every day and night. I also told him that I didn’t want my husband to ever see the tattoo of his initials over my pussy.
Dear Nancy
It was really nice to hear from you. Of course, I remember Brian. He was my favorite real cuckold client, not a fantasy cuckold. He was the only man I saw who never had to lie to me because you told me what you wanted from me. Brian was as honest as you were and it didn’t hurt that he was handsome and had a nice body. I didn’t feel sorry for him at all, he was married to a wild & wonderful woman. But how do you keep a man faithful when his wife is as wild as you were (I hope you are still the same and Brian is too)? I did punish him, but my heart was never in it because I liked him too much, so I let him serve me like he liked to serve you. I knew he had a crush on me and I was terribly flattered by that. That was sweet but it was nothing for you to worry about, but it made drinking my pee extra special for him and me. I can’t imagine how much he had over the years, but a lot! It was always a pleasure.
Would Brian make a pretty girl? Absolutely, yes. You should have mentioned that to me. Go for it and send me a picture.
Stay in touch, please
Leona
We arrived at a nondescript house in the East End of London, not in the most salubrious neighborhood. The door was opened by a trim, dark haired woman in her mid-fifties who was dressed in what I would describe as BDSM chic. She was attractive in a very cold sexual way. She introduced herself as Leona, took us to the sitting room, and asked us to sit and tell her what the problem was. Max explained the situation in the very bluntest terms and offered her a bonus if she was successful at the end of the summer and handed her a thick envelope while he whispered in her ear.
Then he candidly explained I was his current fucktoy and he needed another three months to totally ‘fuck me out’ and after that I could go back to my husband. The bizarreness of the situation actually made me hot and I didn’t blink an eye when Max ordered me to suck his cock while Leona filmed us for what she said was for later use in Brian’s therapy and training. I took my time and allowed Leona to shoot from a number of different angles. When I was finished and swallowed his hot cum, Leona interviewed me on camera about my sex life with Max. I answered honestly and vividly described how submissive I felt when I was with Max and admitted that I expected to have my limits stretched while under his control. When asked about Max pimping me out to his friends I said that was his prerogative entirely and I expected that to continue for the duration of the summer.
Leona was pleased with the filming and the interview and mentioned that she wanted to speak with me privately after the summer. She told me to tell Brian to see her for a 2-hour session on Sunday at 2:00 pm and to tell him to expect two appointments thereafter with her every week until I returned from France. I gave her total permission to undertake any course of action that would keep Brian faithful to me throughout the summer and I even signed a note to that effect.
When Max dropped me home, I was so aroused that I refused to get out of the car until he allowed me to suck his cock again. He finally acquiesced and leaned the car seat back and turned on the overhead light so passersby could see me bobbing up and down on his cock until he exploded in my mouth for the second time that night. A group of teenage boys crowded around the car watching me drain Max’s cock and grew so rowdy he had to walk me to my door to avoid being pestered.
When I entered our apartment, Brian was reading in the living room. I quickly walked over and gave him a long French kiss, as Max had instructed me to do, making sure he had an unwitting opportunity to fully savor my lover’s virile cum. I sat next to Brian on the sofa and asked him to open a bottle of wine and to pour two glasses. When he returned, I told him about my plans for the summer. I could see the shock and hurt in his face when he realized I would be gone with my lover for three entire months.
I asked that he be faithful to me and warned him about Kay’s intentions and begged him not to be alone with her during the summer, nor to take her calls or answer her messages. I pledged to be a more caring and affectionate wife on my return on the condition that he have therapy twice a week with Leona. I sat on his lap and stroked his face and promised him that, if he completed three months of treatment with Leona, our sex life would perk up and I would be home more often in the autumn. I told him to trust her and follow her instructions explicitly. Being the sweet and caring husband he is, he totally accepted my demands.
An addendum and note from Adrian
*Clarifying footnotes by Nancy at bottom of this addendum
An addendum would normally be inserted into a story at its conclusion but, in this case, Nancy’s narrative of our relationship and the fantasies I enjoy which inspired the fictional aspects of this chronicle, I think, is justification for inclusion within the main manuscript. My story with Nancy dates back over ten years ago when my now ex-wife mentioned that she had found the perfect woman for her father, who was visiting us in London for a month.
Robert, Lauren’s father, is a wealthy Jewish plastic surgeon who practices in Los Angeles. Lauren, my ex-wife, is an avaricious Jewish American Princess from California. I am neither Jewish, American or English, but I am a professor in the UK. At the time, Robert was in his mid-fifties and, I have to admit, a handsome and distinguished widower. Lauren has little interest in his long-term happiness but a massive interest in his inheritance and her biggest concern is that he will remarry, and his second wife will lay claim to the family wealth.
Lauren thought she had found the solution to that problem in Nancy. The fact that Robert was nailing Nancy[1] and had fallen under her spell made her ecstatic, because Nancy was already married to what she described as a ‘doormat’ who allowed her to have affairs. To be clear, I didn’t invent that definition to describe Brian, Lauren did, but it became imprinted in my mind well before I met Nancy and Brian. For the sake of honesty, at the time Lauren was fucking everyone in the theater world in London behind my back, so her definition of Nancy’s husband probably pales against her opinion of me. At least Brian was cognizant, whereas I was the real fool and well-deserved the title of cuckold.
I met Nancy at a drinks party held by one of the residents in the apartment complex we lived in on Westbourne Grove, which skirts the neighborhoods of Notting Hill and Bayswater, within walking distance of Paddington Station where I can get the train to Oxford. I also have a small apartment in Summertown, in Oxford.
I am an academic and I don’t come from wealth. A weakness I have is I am intimidated, to some extent, by wealth because it’s the one area in which I can not compete. My first impression of Nancy at that drinks party was that she just sparkled in wealth. She was stunning and I was instantly captivated by her but I could immediately recognize that the little shift dress that she wore that barely covered her body probably cost thousands of pounds, and her diamond bracelet was worth more than I was paid on an annual basis and the sexy shoes she wore would set a normal man back about a month’s salary[2]. But she wore everything as if they were meaningless to her in the way that wealthy women do. Every man in the room furtively had their eyes on Nancy. I instantly developed a case of envy and resentment against Lauren’s father because he acted as if he owned her, despite the presence of her husband in the room.
When Nancy’s husband, Brian, was pointed out to me my first reaction was surprise at his youth. The age differential between Nancy and Brian is readily apparent but, in terms of attractiveness they are on an equal plane. There are so many things you realize only in retrospect and Lauren’s keen interest in Brian at the time is one of those things. I didn’t know that Nancy was Jewish, albeit from an entirely different background than Lauren, but obviously Lauren did and probably had concocted some sort of scheme[3] whereby Nancy would run off with her father and she would scoop up Brian and live a more open life and enjoy the fruits of his labor, which are more substantial than mine by a multiple. She mistakenly assumed that Brian would readily trade one Jewish wife for another. It gives me great pleasure to know her dream didn’t even come close to fruition. But, at that party, Lauren was all over Brian and, I could tell by his expression, he wasn’t entirely comfortable with that.
I wanted Nancy very badly from that point on, but I had competition from Lauren’s father and from other men I was not aware about, as of yet. But I knew that she was not a faithful wife and I saw no reason that I couldn’t be her next lover and I had an opportunity to try because Lauren was going back to California with her father for an extended period, which I assumed was to take care of our daughter but, in reality, involved numerous affairs with producers, actors, directors and all a sundry within the entertainment community in Hollywood. Rather than ever reaching her goals of fame by association with a Hollywood celebrity, Lauren instead achieved the status of a sex plaything who was passed knowingly from man to man with a wink. That’s rather embarrassing for a husband.
There’s a saying common in America: ‘if you want to stop a Jewish woman from fucking you, marry her’. That saying had a ring of truth, at least as it concerned my marriage to Lauren. Unbeknownst to me, while she was fucking her way through the theater district in London and the film community in Los Angeles, our sex life had dwindled to nothing.
During the year prior to meeting Nancy, I would regularly stop off in Reading, which is halfway between Oxford and London, and see prostitutes. I couldn’t afford the more expensive ones, so I was relegated to those who services required less than a hundred pounds. During this period of debauchery, I also developed a bisexual fantasy and a fantasy of being feminized. After seeing Nancy and Brian for the first time, I focused my heterosexual urges on Nancy and developed a bisexual fantasy for Brian. They were equally compelling.
I struck lucky with Nancy not long after Lauren left for the summer. I had been flirting with her for weeks and she finally agreed to come to my apartment, which was just across the courtyard from her own, for a glass of wine. She showed up at my door in heels wearing a light raincoat and nothing underneath, except holdup stockings. I was fucking her thirty seconds later and it was the best sex I had in years and, that alone, was the reason for divorcing Lauren. I have been fucking her regularly for the last ten years and we have done some wild things, many of which she egged me on to do, including the ‘gifting’ of her I have made to my friends. They have been eternally grateful for that, as they should be.
I have often spoken to Nancy, and I have written graphically about my desire to suck Brian’s cock or to be forced to suck it either by him or her. I masturbate regularly to the fantasy. Why Brian and not some other stranger I could meet in a gay bar? To some extent the desire is borne out of envy. He has Nancy and I don’t and, as much as she will refuse to admit it, she has an avaricious streak in her and Brian provides everything she needs or desires and does it with devotion she won’t find in another man[4]. He’s also the most unconsciously handsome man I know in sort of that American Kennedy mold[5]. I’ve also been told by a reliable source, who happens to be married to him, his cock is more than adequate to satisfy Nancy, and that is not something most men are possessed with. The final driver for the fantasy is that Brian is aloof and looks down on me, despite that I fuck his wife far better and far more than he does[6].
I do agree with Nancy in her introduction that Brian would be a better candidate for feminization, so much so, that it has blossomed into another fantasy I would like to explore. That being said, the premise for this entire story was brought about by my fantasy which involves being feminized myself and being forced to worship Brian’s cock. I appreciate that my fantasy isn’t appealing to Nancy but I am very pleased that it has created a fantasy in her mind of doing what I would like to have done to me to her husband, which is something I would enjoy to see because I would then fuck the hell out of Brian[7].
[1] Nancy’s note: I had forgotten about Robert. He was quite handsome and had a wicked imagination but he wanted to marry me and take me to California. He was quite upset when I turned him down.
[2] Sorry, can’t help myself here. Dress Max Mara, £1,200, diamond tennis bracelet, Boodles £7,000, engagement ring, Tiffany $15,000, Shoes Louis Vuitton, £600, Diamond stud earrings Boodles £4,000.
[3] I was aware of what that bitch had in mind right from the start. She’s just one of many who had that dream,
[4] That is not true.
[5] That is true.
[6] There’s an element of truth to that, but it depends on my mood and my desire to be either spoiled or defiled at any given moment. Brian is the choice for the former and Adrian fulfills the latter requirement, but not exclusively.
[7] Hmmm. That’s interesting.
Chapter 2
The First Dose is Always Free
My wife, Nancy, had left this morning for her three month holiday in Bordeaux with her lover, Max, and I had taken our son to Heathrow to fly to the States where he would stay with his grandparents at their house in the Hamptons for the summer. I was totally alone except for the twice weekly sessions Nancy had set up for me with Leona, who she described as being somewhat like a relationship counselor. My wife was unduly worried that I would be unfaithful to her in her absence, which was out of my comprehension. I would simply never do that. I have never been happier in my life and that’s because I married the most wonderful woman in the world. I would never want to put my marriage at risk.
Admittedly, the last three months hadn’t been good for our marriage. Nancy’s relationship with Max was leading her down a dark road. The changes she had undergone were palpable to all around her. Her dress sense changed from tastefully sexy to blatantly slutty. The ankle bracelet, the cheap hoop earrings and the numerous tatty rings on her fingers were more appropriate for a street walker rather than a respectable upper middle-class wife.
Max was shaping her into a woman I no longer recognized. I have never been her sole or even primary sexual partner, but we usually had sex once or twice a month. At least I got a fraction of her attention, but I had not even seen her undressed in 90 days and she had not spent a night at home after she became enthralled with Max. Her maternal interests had also vanished.
When Nancy promised she would change upon her return after the summer I pledged I would unquestionably follow Leona’s tutelage and do whatever she wished. I was desperate to recapture the magic of our relationship.
I looked up and down the street before I knocked on the door. It wasn’t the sort of place I would like to be at night. Even the pleasant warmth of early summer didn’t seem to reach this part of London. In fact, there was a chilly drizzle overhead. The door to the house was painted black and there was no buzzer, just a rather large brass door knocker, which meant the occupant probably lived in the entire building. I finally worked up the courage to lift it and knock on the door.
I waited two minutes before I heard a series of locks turning and the door opened to reveal a rather diminutive, older woman with short dark hair. She was undoubtedly attractive in a very unusual way, very slim and dressed all in black. I knew from the card my wife had given me that her name was Leona, so I introduced myself. She curtly acknowledged me and instructed me to take the outside stairs to the basement door, to undress completely, leaving my clothes and shoes in an outside tool closet and then to knock on the basement door. I was instructed to do this for all future visits and to never knock on the basement door until I was completely undressed. I was also told from henceforth that I would address her as Mistress Leona, unless we were together in a public place.
I did as instructed and stood in the cool rain until she opened the door. I was largely hidden from view. Unless a passerby leaned over the stairwell, I was invisible. When I was allowed to enter the basement, which had a bare concrete floor and walls which were painted red and black, I was given a towel, a shaver and soap and told to go to the shower room, remove all my body hair and choose a fingernail polish and paint my toenails. Only when I was completely smooth, and the polish was dry, could I return to the main basement area. When I came out of the shower room, I was completely nude, with painted pink toenails and a smooth, shaved body. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation.
I was then weighed and my height was measured, as were my feet, waist, chest, hips and the inseam of my leg. Leona also inspected my penis and testicles and my anus. It was disconcerting because she had yet to explain her motivations. I was then told to sit in a chair astride her desk for our initial assessment. the first part focused on the state of my marriage and then veered strangely off to probing whether I had previous homosexual experiences, homosexual fantasies or envy of the female gender, to which I replied in the negative to all.
Leona then excused herself and went to the loo. When I heard the toilet flush and saw her returning with a large glass filled almost to the top with a yellow liquid, I knew that the first test in my counseling involved drinking her urine. That’s honestly not something I am averse to. Nancy does that often with me as somewhat of a test of my devotion to her but often her urine is topped with bits of spunk. Leona put the glass on the desk, pulled a bottle of pills out of a desk drawer and extracted two and put them next to the glass. She told me to take the pills and drink until I finished the glass.
“You earned a couple of bonus points for not asking anything about the pills and just obediently taking them,” said Leona, who smiled for the first time in our session. “I also liked the way you showed no reluctance about drinking my piss. That will be a regular feature in the future. Female urine is rich in hormones and those are good for you.”
“Thank you, Mistress Leona.” I answered. Keeping my response as short as possible, as I had been instructed to do.
“I am going to start a process with you that will begin in earnest tomorrow,” added Leona. “For each step you will not hesitate to do exactly as you are told without any objections. I am moving to your apartment tomorrow for the duration of the summer. I will take the master bedroom and you will sleep in your son’s room. You will place a large clean glass next to each toilet. That’s obviously so you don’t miss a drop of my golden nectar. That’s a special gift to you that will draw us closer. The hormones will be good for you.”
“Thank you, Mistress Leona,” I replied, once again, wondering what the coming months had in store for me but, at the same time, resigning to my fate as Nancy would want me to.
“You have a nice slim body which I can work with and your longish hair will look nice once we dye it blonde and it grows out a bit more,” Leona added. “My goal is to complete this process in two months and then really start on a plan to modify your behavior and appearance. It will start to be enjoyable at a point for you. It’s nice that your penis is not that big. It may shrink to some extent but often it bounces back at a point, but your penis is not that important to your marriage. Nancy is spoiled for choice when it comes to cock. She doesn’t need yours in the future.”
“Now we have to get down to some unpleasant but necessary business,” said Leona. “I will need a £50,000 payment immediately for expenses and a further £20,000 as an advance bonus, also immediately. I will also require a full six-month commitment from you, not just the initial three months that were planned. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Mistress Leona,” I replied, quickly calculating in my mind the dollar equivalent of the amount required and how I would immediately access it. “I can have the transfer done today.”
“Good, I’m pleased, and I look forward to working with you,” said Leona with another smile. “Now let’s go to lunch and get your ears pierced.”
Daniel’s Story
- Clarifying footnotes by Nancy below
Everyone should have a mother like mine[1]. Not only is she a wonderful mother, she has made sure I have what every other boy dreams of: a very hot older woman who loves to fuck. My mother arranged for me to meet Nancy three years ago, just after my 16th birthday and she makes sure that I get to see her every couple of weeks, at least up until early this year when the pandemic struck and she was stranded outside the UK.
Nancy gave me my first blow job on the first night we met, and I fucked her all night afterwards. As I watched her suck my cock for the first time, I knew it’s what she wanted to do. Nancy loves to be on her knees sucking a big cock. It’s the most natural position in the world for her. When I came she let out a moan as she swallowed each drop of my cum. It was like she was on fire.
By the time I was finished fucking her that night her pussy was completely stretched out. That’s when I found her g-spot with the head of my cock and worked it until she squirted while orgasming. After that she told me she wanted me to knock her up. At first I thought she was just joking but she tells me that all the time when I’m fucking her. It’s a turn on to think about making a woman almost two times my age pregnant[2]. I’ve thought about it while she’s been away, and I think I’ll do it when she comes back. She’s married so I won’t have any responsibility for it.
I told my mother about it and she just shrugged her shoulders and said, “why not?”[3]. She and Nancy are supposed to be friends, but my mother calls her a dirty slut behind her back[4] but she’s happy that I continue to see her and don’t do something stupid with a girl my own age.
Nancy says my cock is bigger than her husband’s and her other lovers[5]. That’s kind of an ego kicker to me. She needs a big cock to satisfy her[6]. I don’t really give a hot fuck about her husband but it’s nice to know I go places in her pussy he can’t. Nancy also told me he doesn’t like her sucking his cock[7], which makes him a fool[8] in my book. Yeah, I’ll knock her up[9], no problem, and he can raise my child.
[1] No, not everyone should have a duplicitous slut for a mother.
[2] I am not two times his age.
[3] The offer has been officially withdrawn.
[4] Rebecca can fuck herself. I’ve written her off officially.
[5] He’s right. Daniel has a really nice cock and it is bigger than anyone else’s I know.
[6] Once again, that is true.
[7] Affirmative
[8] Brian is not a ‘fool’.
[9] Once again, offer withdrawn. Daniel had his chance before he let me know what his mother thinks of me.
Chapter 3
Leona Takes Ownership, 2 months after I left for France
“I want you to sit on the sofa next to me so we can snuggle,” Leona said. “Please take off your top and bra before you sit down. I want to see my little girl’s tits.”
I took off my top and bra and sat down next to her, tucking my stocking clad legs underneath me. Leona lightly touched me on the neck with the tip of her finger sending a wave of sensations through me. I shuddered with pleasure.
“Do the hormones make you feel good?” Leona asked. “Are they too much for you? I have been giving you a lot and the changes have been happening to you much faster than I thought. Your nipples are gorgeous. They’re just like a woman’s and your tits are totally natural, not silicon fake boobs. You are a perfect C cup and your hips have filled out. You are now totally feminine. Nobody would mistake you for what you used to be. The only thing we had to do was get that ugly Adam’s apple removed.”
“I love the hormones, they make me feel wonderful and my body is now so nice,” I replied in my new feminine voice, which had changed for some reason that I didn’t recall although I can remember having a sore throat and wearing bandages on my neck for two weeks. “The hot flashes feel overwhelming. I don’t want them to stop. I would love to have them all the time.”
“Will you enjoy having lots and lots of men fuck you every day for me?” Leona whispered in my ear, her hot breath making me shudder again. “Will you make them happy and make sure they come back for more?”
“Yes, I will,” I said, while imagining what it was going to be like fucked by man after man, day after day. It made me even more turned on than I already was. “I will be the best fuck they ever had. I not only want to be a whore for you I want to feel owned by you.”
“You want to be my property?” Leona whispered. “If you are my property, everything you do will be for me and you will do everything I say without question. Would that make you happy, little girl?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation, knowing in the back of my mind she was manipulating me in the most sensual way but finding it absolutely irresistible. “Everything I make for you will be yours because you will own every part of me.”
“How much do you make a day doing freelance work?” Leona asked as her finger deftly touched my ear, skillfully teasing me and playing with me sensually.
“It varies,” I said. “It can be £5,000 or £10,000 a day, sometimes much more if it is a two or three day project.”
“How long does it take you to do it normally and do the hormones stop you from concentrating?” Fiona asked in a whisper.
“Four to five hours and, if I do it in the evening, the hormones don’t bother me because I get totally into the work,” I replied.
“Good,” she whispered again. “You’ll be my whore in the daytime and work for me at night. You’ll give me a nice life. We will move back to Shoreditch tomorrow. With a body like you have men will pay me a lot to fuck you. Do you know how happy that will make me?”
“I hope it makes you very happy,” I said, as she lightly touched my nipples with her fingers, sending jolts of electricity through my body which was rapidly warming up. “I think you are giving me a hot flash; I can feel it coming.”
“Really?” she said in her most seductive tone. “I am just beginning to learn how to have fun with my property. Let me suck your nipples and see what happens.”
As soon as she touched her lips to my nipple, I felt the first rush go through me like lightning, making my entire body shudder, drenching me in sweat. A second and third wave followed, and I lost track after that as I squirmed and moaned in pleasure. It was the most powerful hot flash I had experienced and when I came back to reality there were tears of ecstasy in my eyes. I had never felt something so powerfully pleasurable in my life. I had melted in Leona’s arms.
“Oh, wow, that was really something,” Leona said, as I brought myself back together. “You’re like a little sex toy. We’ll have lots of fun in the future. From now on we sleep together, and I’ll play with you every night. Once I tell our clients how to fuck with you then you will be the most popular girl in the East End. Those bankers in the Docklands will pay top dollar to screw you while you are going through that.”
“Let’s find out if you are multi-orgasmic,” Leona said, her face lit up with animation. “Take off your skirt and panties and get the dildo and lube I have been training you with. I’m going to play with you until you can’t take it.”
As I stood up on shaky legs and took off my skirt and panties Leona began giggling.
“My god,” she said, with a laugh. “I haven’t seen you down there for a while. It’s so cute and tiny and your balls are the size of marbles. They’re like miniatures, little doll house toys. Can you imagine what our clients will think of that? Go get some pink ribbon and a pair of scissors.”
When I returned, Leona carefully cut some pink ribbon and tied a bow snugly around what used to be my cock and balls, but now thought of as my clit and ovaries. I liked the look a lot and I liked that Leona did too.
“From now on, every day, I want you to do that and keep it fresh,” Leona said. “It’s so feminine. It just completes your look entirely. Now get the dildo and some lube. Let’s play.”
When I returned, I was told to lie on the sofa and lift my legs. Leona knelt on the floor and began sucking my nipple while she put the dildo inside me. I’m not sure how long she did that because hot flashes roared through my body continuously. I cried with pleasure and begged her not to stop. Whether it was an hour or two, I had no idea, but Leona finally gently eased the dildo out of me and took her lips off my nipple. I was exhausted but elated and would have gladly carried on if she wanted me to.
“God, you are one hot bitch when you are worked up,” Leona exclaimed. “I don’t think a man could last more than five minutes fucking you before shooting his load. I can turn you over twice an hour with no problem and I know I could get £500 a session and you’ll get tips which you will give to me. I don’t want to get too greedy, but would you mind doing 12 a day?”
“I’ll do anything you want,” I replied as she took my hand and guided me to the bedroom, holding me as we lay together for the first time. I felt warm and secure in her arms and pleased that I had made her happy.
“Do you remember that you are married?” Leona whispered in my ear as we lay in bed. “Tell me what you remember.”
“I don’t remember that,” I honestly replied, not having the slightest recollection of anything more than a few days prior. “I sort of remember first meeting you and then it’s sort of scrambled. I remember being happy this morning when I looked in the mirror and I remember what we did tonight and that I am going to make 12 men a day happy for you and that you promised I would get my ownership tattoo tomorrow. I remember that I have to tie a ribbon around my clit and ovaries all the time and make a bow so that they are pretty and to keep it fresh. I never forget that you own me, and I can’t go anywhere without you or do anything without your permission. I know that I am not allowed to answer the phone or the door. I know I have to clean the house and handwash your lingerie. I always remember to take two of my hormone pills in the morning and two at night. I don’t remember ever feeling this wonderful.”
“That’s good, honey,” Leona whispered. “Can you remember to take three hormone pills from now on when you wake up and three in the evening?”
Chapter 4
Leona’s Money Machine
My name is Neil White. That’s my legal name but I worked under dozens of other names when I worked undercover at the Met. I was never allowed in New Scotland Yard because I was an ‘asset’. My meetings were in downtrodden pubs across London. I was forced out because of a scandal but given a full pension. Then I went private, working mainly for the big law firms on anything dodgy. I was the guy who could work in a boiler shop, where investors were ripped off on penny stocks, or a warehouse for a big retail company, where half the merchandise went out the back door.
I was impeccable. I worked within the law. I could testify in court and nobody could question my character. That was, until Nancy hired me.
I sat on the sofa across from my client and tried to look at anything but her legs, which was close to impossible not to do, particularly as her short skirt clearly revealed the top of her stockings. I purposely avoided meeting her in person, solely to avoid situations like this. Nancy was not only difficult to deal with whilst maintaining some sort of sense of professionalism, the assignment she had given me was almost unbelievably complex and challenging. It made me grateful I had married a normal, down to earth woman whose sexual proclivities didn’t lead down the dark paths that Nancy had travelled.
“I think I have located your husband,” I said. “He seems to be residing at the residence of Leona Hillford in Shoreditch but he has never come out of the house so I can’t be entirely sure. The residence is a known house of prostitution. It seems to be very exclusive and there are usually one or two chauffeured limousines waiting outside while customers take care of their business inside the residence. I have further determined that Ms Hillford specializes in providing top transsexual talent to the punters.”
“The house becomes inactive around 5:00 pm and then there is just one light on for three or four hours and at about 10:00 pm all the lights go out,” I added. “I have followed her in the morning and she normally shops for food and buys large amounts of expensive condoms at a local chemist. She also attends a surgery that is well known for dispensing drugs to individuals seeking gender reassignment. She has wine and water delivered to her house once a week. There is a back garden and I have seen Ms Hillford and one other woman sunning there. Here are some pictures I have taken with a long-range lens. Can you tell me if you recognize anyone?
Nancy studied the photos I handed her, and I noticed a tear drop from her eye. What I had suspected seemed to be now confirmed. What I didn’t like happening was going on in my pants. The sexual energy the woman gave off was like an opiate and it filled the space around her, making my cock semi-hard. I actually had to look away from her and stare out the window to try to control myself. I didn’t want to stand and let her see that I had an erection.
“This bitch has turned my husband into a tranny,” Nancy said angrily. “A tranny whore and I am all to blame. I told him to do exactly what she wanted while I was off with that creep the entire summer too stupid to realize what I had done and getting fucked by people I didn’t even know. You have to get him out of there and help me make him a man again.”
“I can’t just break into a house and kidnap someone,” I said. “That’s against the law and I can’t make someone do something they don’t want to do. If he wants to be a prostitute, that’s entirely legal. The law doesn’t differentiate between a male or a female prostitute. In the UK a prostitute can legally work in a residence and legally have one companion. It is only illegal if more than one prostitute is working in a residence. I have no reason to think Ms Hillford is anything but a companion. She’s attractive in a certain way but she would not be a high-class hooker.”
“Neil, I frankly am not particularly interested in the legalities of prostitution,” Nancy said, trying to level her voice. “You are supposed to be the best private detective in London. Think creatively. Money is no object.”
Nancy rose from her chair and sort of glided over to the sofa and sat on my lap. It was such an audacious move that I was too stunned to stop her. Here was a woman that many men would give their right arm to bed sitting on my lap and squirming on my erection. I almost came in my trousers.
“It’s not only money that I can give you to solve this, there’s something I can give you that I know you’ve wanted ever since we met,” she said before kissing me and exploring my mouth with her tongue. “I know you’re happily married but if you are successful you can have discreet fun with me whenever you wish. I would be eternally grateful, and I would make sure your wife would never find out. When we get Brian out it will take him a while to get back to normal and I will have needs in the meantime.”
As quickly as she moved onto my lap, she moved back to the chair, crossing her legs after she sat, once again revealing her stocking tops. I was simply stunned and mute while I collected my thoughts and did what I shouldn’t have done and starting thinking with my dick instead of my head. I used to pride myself on being a faithful husband but I now knew that was solely because I hadn’t ever fallen under the spell of a woman like Nancy. I was as weak as any man.
“I’ll make an appointment as a client,” I said. “I know how to do that, but it costs £500 just for one session with your husband. I don’t know how long it will take me to convince him to get out of the house. Once I do then I will abduct him and take him for treatment somewhere. This could cost me my license, but I will do it. It is illegal, unethical and I think immoral, but I will do it.”
“Men that pay £500 to see a prostitute dress better than you,” Nancy said as she rose and walked to a desk that was to the side of her sitting room, opening a drawer and pulling out a checkbook. “You dress like a cop and you look like a cop. If you want to be successful at this and you want to look like someone I want to be with then you will have three suits tailor made for you and buy two pairs of shoes at Churchill’s and five dress shirts at Turnball and Asser on Jermyn street. Get five Hermes ties as well at Selfridges and some cufflinks. Wear the suits a few times before your first appointment and make sure the shirts don’t look brand new. Look like that is how you normally dress. Get used to the look. Get your hair cut at the barbershop in the Piccadilly Arcade.”
“I want to see you before your appointment to make sure you look the part,” Nancy added as she handed me a check and a business card for a tailor. “Tell the tailor that you were recommended by me and that you need the suit done in three days. That will require a couple of fittings. Also get a Burberry dress raincoat. Men that have chauffeurs don’t need anything more than an expensive raincoat, even in cold weather. Men that have to walk from the tube, need overcoats.”
I looked at the check in my hand and focused on the amount: £50,000. I had never held such an amount in my hand before and Nancy handed it to me seemingly without a thought. I wondered how I would explain my new expensive look to my wife, who had suddenly become something of a boring afterthought in my life. When I heard Nancy say the words “look like someone I want to be with” it was like a jolt of electricity went through my body.
I took the check and made my way to the door but stopped and turned to say goodbye. Nancy got up from her chair and stood next to me. In her heels she came up to my shoulders. She was like sex on legs and what made it worse, she knew it. Her confidence in herself was perhaps the most interesting thing about her. She knew she could make me do anything she wanted.
“Have you ever been unfaithful to your wife?” Nancy asked as she touched my chest lightly with her fingers. “I bet you have been a very good boy.”
“No, I have never cheated on her,” I replied.
“Let’s change that,” Nancy said as she undid my belt and pulled my zipper down and dropped to her knees in front of me. “This will happen every time we meet from now on.”
I smiled to myself as I felt Nancy’s warm lips engulf my hard cock. She kept her eyes open, staring straight at me while she took the length of my cock down her throat. I would do anything for her after that point.
Ten days later I kissed Nancy in the backseat of a car we had hired that was parked a hundred meters away from Ms Hillford’s house. I got out of the car and made my way to the front door thinking just how weird this all was. When I called to make an appointment, I was told there was a ten day waiting list to see ‘Briana’. I would have to become a regular in order to convince him to leave the house, even temporarily, at which point I would have to figure out a way to abduct him and take him somewhere that could possibly perform a miracle and restore his masculinity. It all seemed far fetched to me but I had thrown caution to the wind. The truth is I was obsessed with Nancy and would do anything she asked no matter how illegal, immoral or unethical it was.
I knocked on the door and waited until Ms Hillford opened the door. Up close she was far more attractive than she appeared at a distance. She asked me to call her Leona and she seemed genuinely, friendly, warm and charming. She led me upstairs to an empty bedroom and told me to fully undress. I did so while she looked on with a smile and hung up my clothes as I handed them to her.
“You have a very nice body and you dress very well,” she complimented me. “Briana will like you a lot. This is the first time you will be seeing her, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” I replied not feeling uncomfortable at all being nude in front of her. There was something very relaxing about her attitude and instead of having that vaguely guilty feeling one should when seeing a prostitute, particularly of the transsexual variety, the atmosphere seemed completely normal. I actually found Leona to be quite sexy herself in kind of a dominant way. It seemed like it would be fun to be manipulated by her for her own amusement. She had that sort of sexuality, just naturally.
“Can you tell me anything or give me any hints?” I asked Leona while handing her ten £50 notes and taking another one out as a tip for her. “I want to make a good impression because I just don’t want this to be a one-off.”
“Thank you,” she said as she took the fee and the tip with a smile. “Nobody sees Briana once. She’s pretty special but you’ll find that out. Lightly suck her nipples and find out what happens. She loves sex and it’s no act with her.”
The image of me sucking a transsexual’s nipples sent a jolt of revulsion through me, but I hid it. What I really wanted to do was be back in the car with Nancy on the way back to her apartment or spending a week with her in bed giving her pleasure.
I was told to lie on my back in bed. Leona quickly ran a washcloth under water in the sink and brought it over and used it to clean my cock and balls. She did it as if it was something she did dozens of times a day, without much of a thought but also very graciously, smiling throughout. I smiled back at her when she glanced at me.
“I was just thinking about how nice of a cock you have,” Leona said. “Briana is going to want that inside her. I’d almost like to watch that, but I think that would make you both uncomfortable.”
I sensed then that this was planned. I was a first-time customer and Leona wanted to make sure I was normal, or at least normal enough to have sex with a transsexual. It didn’t bother me and having a real woman in the room, would make it feel less like a homosexual act. It would also help me perform sexually. Alternatively, the thought of being alone with a transsexual was distinctly unappealing.
“I’d like you to watch,” I said with a smile I tried to make as genuine as possible, realizing at the same time that, if I could convince her to become sexually involved than that would legally mean two prostitutes were working in the same house, which is something I could make a police complaint about. “I will even pay £100 if you would take off your clothes too.”
“I can’t do that because it would be against the law,” she replied. “But I will sit in the chair and watch, if you don’t mind.”
Brian or ‘Briana’ entered the room as soon as Leona sat in a chair set against the wall. That was when my world began to go off kilter. She, and I mean that entirely because I have seen few women as breathtaking, was a walking dream. She had a complexion that glowed with health, beautiful blonde hair cut into a bob and a figure that would be the envy of a beauty queen. She seemed entirely natural and her smile was dazzling. After greeting me by name, she slipped off her clingy dress to reveal perfect firm breasts, slim hips and long fine legs.
“Please come closer so I can look at what is between your legs,” I asked in amazement.
She came to my side of the bed, close enough so I could touch her tiny cock and little balls. They were fascinatingly cute, with a pink ribbon and bow tied around them, making them look like a little present. I couldn’t help myself as I touched the tiny cock lightly. I had never seen a sight so stunningly and unusually beautiful. They were like a completely feminine cock and balls, so tiny that they certainly were incapable of anything except being admired.
“That’s beautiful,” I said as I felt my own cock quickly swelled. “I’m kind of speechless. That is so feminine without being feminine at all, but it is so lovely.”
“Thank you,” she said in return as she slipped in bed with and laid her arm across my chest and felt for my cock with her other hand. “You have a beautiful body too. I want you to give me pleasure while I give you something you’ve never had before.”
I forgot Leona was in the room as Briana took the head of my cock in her mouth and swirled her tongue around it. She teased me like this seeming endlessly until I felt her put a condom on it and she repositioned me on top of her and guided me inside her.
“Suck my nipples, please,” she asked in a whisper. “Drive me crazy.”
She moaned deeply as I sucked on her nipple and began to writhe underneath me as her body glowed with perspiration. This was no act, she genuinely was enjoying herself, which only made me want to drive her crazier. She felt hot, like a furnace was burning inside her and she was going through spasm after spasm, begging me all the time to keep fucking her. It was like riding a wild horse. She held my head as I sucked on each of her nipples and could feel how my tongue and lips were making her move around underneath me. I was pouring sweat too and wet from her as well. She wrapped her legs around pulling me deeper inside her. She was controlling the fuck I was giving her and I was driving her crazy by playing with her nipples. I couldn’t help myself and came harder than I had ever before, kissing her on the mouth and putting my tongue deep inside her.
She smiled at me after we had calmed down and she was lying in my arms. It was a genuine smile with no hint of guile around it. I felt perfectly at ease with her. She playfully removed the condom from my cock and licked it clean and briefly sucked my balls.
“I want to see you again, as soon as possible,” I told her. “You have ruined me sexually now and I am just completely confused but I must see you again soon.”
“You’ll have to talk with Leona about that,” she replied. “She controls my schedule and everything else. See her downstairs before you leave and tell her I want you back as soon as possible.”
I had forgotten about Leona. She had silently left the room at some point. I took the offer of a shower, dried myself off, got dressed and made my way downstairs. I stopped at a full-length mirror and looked at myself. The clothes and the haircut made me look like a different person and I liked that. I had also just fucked the most beautiful transsexual I had ever seen, and I liked that as well, and I also had a beautiful woman waiting for me and I liked that even more. What I didn’t like was the thought of going back to my old life.
Briana was nowhere to be seen but I found Leona in an office, working on a computer. She looked up at me and motioned me to a chair.
“You don’t look like a spoiled banker from the Docklands,” Leona said. “I can’t place you, but I get sort of a dangerous vibe from you which is kind of interesting.”
“I get a vibe from you too,” I replied. “It’s a really interesting vibe. It’s sort of magnetic and a bit dangerous too. It feels like you like to play with people and people like to be played with by you. That might be fun.”
“Interesting,” Leona said with a slight smile. “You are very interesting. I think you are already smitten with Briana and that’s a point in your corner as far as I’m concerned. You can see her again Thursday at the same time and, if you want to dispense with the condom, make a quick visit on Wednesday to Dr Collins around the corner on Curtain Road, next to Foxtons.”
“Would you ever consider being filmed with Briana?” Leona asked. “I’m thinking of doing a few short videos of her and sending them off to California as test shots.”
“Sure,” I replied, thinking about just how much trouble I would get in if the films fell into the wrong hands.
“Oh, and Friday at 8:00 pm,” Leona added, without further explanation.
“Ok, I replied, what’s happening then?” I asked, with an amused voice.
“That’s my first dinner date in years,” Leona said, smiling fully for the first time. “You’ll pick me up here.”
As I walked out of the house and down the street to the waiting car, I sensed well beforehand the agitated state Nancy might be in. There were now three attractive women, if you counted Briana, in my life and it was growing increasingly complicated. The trouble is I was smitten with Briana, I was in love with Nancy and I was extremely intrigued with Leona. I got in the car and sat next to Nancy and told the driver to take us back to her apartment. She was furious like I had never seen before.
“Don’t. Lie. To. Me.,” she hissed in my ear. “You fucked my husband, didn’t you?”
What happiness I felt before left me and I instantly felt deflated and dirty and tawdry. I looked out the window, rather than meet her gaze.
“I had to,” I said quietly, so the driver couldn’t hear. “Leona was in the room to make sure I was genuine, so I had to do it to play the part.”
“How’s it like fucking a man?” she hissed. “That doesn’t do much to make me like you more. I’ve lost all respect for you.”
“Your husband isn’t much of a man anymore and, if I recall, the way he is comes down to decisions you made,” I said angrily. “In fact, I don’t know if he could ever be a man again. Your mistakes took that away from him. It would take a long time for him to change now and I think he is happy.”
Nancy went quiet. Then she started sobbing uncontrollably. Normally, that annoys me in women, but it pulled every one of my heartstrings to see Nancy cry. I put my arm around her and held her close to me.
“Look,” I said. “I made more progress than I ever thought I would make. Leona wants me to be filmed with your husband, which means he has to get out of the house and onto a film set and she asked me out on a date Friday night, so she’s interested in me.”
“I can play her at her own game, get her trust and get your husband out of there,” I whispered to her. “I don’t know how we reverse what she has done to him but at least I can get him out of her control.”
She kissed me passionately then and hugged me tightly, taking my hand and putting it on her stocking clad thigh. I felt my cock grow again. I couldn’t quite believe what I was doing.
“I know you have been married a long time, but I don’t really care,” she said in a quiet voice. “Don’t ask me ever to be faithful because I won’t and I won’t lie, but I want you to leave your wife now and move in with me and be one of my lovers. Would you do that?”
“Yes,” I said, with complete conviction and, at the same time, knowing I was walking right off a cliff.
