Honey-Lees BDSM Adventures: Chapter 3 - The Italian Stallions Surrender

Honey-Lee–the journeys of a TG Nympho
Chapter 3 – Honey Ties Things Down

After the explosion, we just lay there for awhile, the three of us in an untidy heap on the floor as our breathing gradually slowed. Pool Guy was the first to rouse and as he stood up, he reached for his shorts and pulled them on. “Always glad to be of service” he grinned and he was gone through the patio door as swiftly as he had entered.
Paul untangled our limbs, laid me back on the floor, and with a gentle caress of my tummy, headed down the hall toward the bathroom. I lay there alone for another half minute feeling strangely at peace with the whole world but at last, reluctantly yielding to reality, arose and, nearly naked, tottered unsteadily toward my bedroom and its spacious shower, acutely aware of the rivulets of jism oozing from my pussy and running down my legs.
I spent some time in the shower getting everything clean, patted myself dry and looked in the mirror to see if anything had changed. I studied my smooth, unlined brow, rosy cheeks and full lips all framed in a tangle of light, almost platinum blonde hair. I used to let some grow above my pussy just to prove the color is my own. I looked like just who I am, a very sensuous trans-gender woman, at peace with the world.
Finally I hear Paul enter the bedroom and climb into bed. Not knowing quite what to expect, I quietly exit the bathroom and slide in beside him. He takes me in his arms from behind, and just as he has done most nights in the three years we’ve been together, slides his semi-erect cock into my pussy for over-night safekeeping.
Ten hours later, the soft shower feels wonderful against my skin and I lather and rinse twice before shampooing and conditioning my hair, and turning my attention to my just slightly sore pussy. I switch to the slim hand-held shower and deeply douche my pussy multiple times until the water runs out perfectly clear, I use a thin, ribbed dildo to apply soothing, ph-balancing lotion inside my pussy, then step out of the shower feeling fresh, frisky and ready to frolic. Having shaved my legs and pussy yesterday I’m still smooth all over.
I make a quick pass with hair dryer, mouthwash, toothbrush and comb, then apply mascara, eye-shadow, moisturizer, foundation, blush and lipstick. Stepping into the closet, I quickly select and don a white bra, light-grey thigh-high stockings, yellow and black skirt and a loose-fitting light yellow top. The skirt is quite full and a little longer than I usually wear – nearly to the knee – but pantyless, I have plans for it. Stepping into a pair of 2.5” heels, I exit the bedroom into the central part of the “open plan” house. And there is Paul! - looking gorgeous, shirtless, wearing only a pair of shorts and sitting at the table, flipping through a newspaper.
I smiled at him and come over for a kiss. While kissing me he runs his hand up under my full skirt and fondle my smooth, bare little bottom. I know I’m already for him but I step back. “You must be starving” I say and go to the fridge and start pulling out food. As I bend over, I can feel his eyes ogling my behind and can’t resist bending just a little further for his benefit, but the skirt is too long for him to see much more than my legs.
I make coffee, whip up pan fries with onions, a heap of crisp bacon, eggs, sliced tomatos and some left-over but still fresh potato salad with fresh-sliced Florida strawberries and cream. We enjoy our breakfast together but Paul, knowing me for three years, senses something unusual in the air and rarely takes his eyes off me. We finish and I clear things away but just as I’m finishing, the dish towel falls from my hands at his feet. Always a gentleman, Paul bends to retrieve it and I pounce. My full skirt flips over his head and he is “trapped”, all alone in a little tent with a rising tg clit.
Paul is a classically handsome man of Italian-French descent. Strong jaw, hawkish nose, larger mouth with strong white teeth and heavy brows are complimented by a thick head of dark hair with distinguished graying strands. He’s a masculine man by any standards able to charm almost any woman into his bed, which he does with regularity. He’s usually my champion stallion but after three years, I understand him and happily cater to his more unusual fantasies. It keeps him from straying too far.
For now, he’s just a man with his head under a skirt, but I jam my clit into his throat, doing my best to make him gag, tho unsuccessfully; my clit just isn’t long enough. I push him to the floor and as I do, I push my skirt down over my hips and step out of it leaving him tangled in its folds. (This stunt is actually easier than it sounds; try it sometime with someone you love.) I secure the skirt around his neck and over his head with the sash from an old robe I’ve spotted strategically. I’m standing in my kitchen, naked from the waist down, but he can no longer see me and acquiesces obediently as I take his hand and lead him to the bedroom.
The room is as I left it: bedding all rolled down neatly onto a table at the foot of the bed, nothing on the big king-sized bed except a tightly-stretched clean white sheet and several big pillows. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I quickly remove his shorts, but not pausing to admire or taste his magnificent rising cock, I order him to lie back in the center of the bed. Even as his head touches the pillow I am slipping his wrists into soft loops of old pantyhose, secured at their other ends to the outer bed legs – well out of reach.
I place a towel over one of the huge over-sized pillows and order him “Raise your hips” and as he obeys, I slide the pillow under his hips but quite high so his buttocks are just on the edge. He starts to relax but I have more nylon loops for him, first his left ankle and then the right and it is possibly not until then that he realizes just how securely he is bound, how much he is totally at my disposal – fully spread-eagled on his back, naked, cock raised and butt-hole fully exposed. To further emphasize the extent of his helplessness, I slip the band of a sleep-mask over his head under the skirt, snug it up and adjust it until he is in total darkness. Only then do I remove the skirt from his head. When he starts to protest, I stuff a pair of my used panties in his mouth to muffle him. And then I leave the room. He can hear my heels clicking on the tile floor and receding down the hallway.
His brain has got to be whirling. “Is this woman crazy? How long is she going to leave me like this? What is she going to do to me? And then he hears my clicking heels returning. He senses that I am standing beside the bed. “What is she doing now?” And then he has his answer as I empty a small bowl of ice cubes on the center of his chest. The icy water runs up to his throat and around his nipples and into his armpits. “What the hell?” He hears the rustle of clothing as I finish undressing beside the bed. He wishes he could see me undress. He wishes he could reach out and touch my flesh. But he cannot. So he concentrates fiercely on what he can hear, smell and sense. His senses tune in to high alert.
He senses me getting on the bed. And then the delicious feel of skin on skin as I straddle him. His erect cock feels my skin as I settle comfortably just a little too high for it to contact my pussy. And then I take two of the ice cubes and press them firmly onto his nipples. At first they feel cold, but then they become numb. I keep the ice in place until it is nearly gone and his nipples are entirely numb. When I suck his left nipple into my warm mouth, the sensation is strange, then almost painful as I suck and tease his nipple with my tongue while the blood flows back into the flesh. He’s expecting it on the right nipple but it doesn’t happen and he can feel me shifting on the bed.
I apply ky-gel to his exposed anus and work my thumb inside while flicking his balls with my fingertips. I add a finger, and then another, working them in and out and spreading my fingers to open him up like my slave slut. When he’s open enough for my satisfaction, I remove my fingers and replace them with a well-lubed, good-sized butt plug that fills his anus and fits snugly, keeping his hole partly open.
His cock has now started to flag a bit from lack of attention so I reach over onto

Explore my other stories

THE END