That moment when...

[ favorite this story ]

That moment when…
It’s the moment when he’s going to cum and you know what to expect…
You’ve been with him before. He’s older than you, better built than you and just an altogether better man than you.
Not that you’re a man per se. no you are a feminised submissive, dressed in the attire that you know turns him on.
You’re wearing, from the bottom up: Your strappy sandals with the four inch stiletto heels.  They make you totter a little, but you know he likes that in the foreplay.
Inside the sandals, the white 15 denier nylons that feel sooo sheer against your legs, shorn of all hair by your avid application of Veet. They swim up to within four inches of your panties and are  held in place by a white eight clip suspender belt. This particularly turns him on and he likes to see you parade around showing him the bare flesh between the top of your stockings and the panties…
The Brazilian pink panties in contrast to the white of the stockings. You love the way that they fit into the crack of your bottom, pulling up to softly caress your boi pussy. You have taken care to fashion your bottom to be femme so you might as well show it off.
This ensemble is barely covered by the white baby doll nighty that you wear. If you bend even slightly, you will be showing off your bottom or your little clit. Encased as it is in your pink chastity device, it barely shows in your panties.
Your small, nascent breasts show under the sheer fabric of the nighty. It also shows the nipples that you have put loving hours into with the suction machine, stiff and jutting.
As a direct contrast to all the white, your hair is dyed black and grown out and cut so that you can have a high pony. He likes to hold you in position by your pony. And you love to be held in position by it.
You have bare foundation and blusher on your face: you are lucky that you have a nice complexion and you have had depilation so that facial hair is not a problem. Your eyes are nicely made up with liner and false lashes. It is all finished with a waterproof glossy cerise lipstick.
Altogether you look like a beautiful man wishing he was a beautiful woman. You know that you are a very attractive woman, but more, attractive to this type of man that likes his lover to be feminised and subdued by the feminisation process.
He makes you walk around his living room, swishing your hips and bending on demand so that he gets to view different parts of your body.
Your clit is stiff, but the chastity cage he makes you wear means that it is a tight fit. But you don’t mind. He bought it for you. What else would you wear ?
He’s sitting there. He is 57 years old, six feet two and still has a six pack, abs you love to caress and thighs that make you go weak at the knees.
He is so much more than you, more than your 22 years, your five feet seven, slim body.
But isn’t that what makes it so delicious ? So… fulfilling. To be beholden to this man, to his every whim. To do things you would never dream of doing simply because he feels that you should.
Because he is a better man, superior to you in every way and your life at this moment in time is his, your will is insignificant.
There are no safe words here, no pushing away and asking to stop, no remonstrating against an uncertain act. This is  man that demands subjugation, stipulates the rules you will follow, exerts the punishments when you don’t.
He is the one who ensured you knew that you would be his submissive slut, his cock sleeve, your only reason for being to service his pleasure.
And here you are at last on your knees in front of him, waiting for him to finish on the phone. Occasionally, his hand will caress your hair and you shiver with anticipation, then dread when he takes his hand away. He knows that he is playing with you but he also knows you live for his touch.
For you this is a key part of your interaction with this superior; this superman in your eyes. The crueller he is, the more sexualised you become. You  long for humiliation, embarrassment and degradation at his hand. the feeling of being used is what drives you, keeps you coming back.
He finishes his phone call and looks down at you; cups your chin, pulls your gaze to his. He has the most beautiful blue eyes and you are captivated like a moth to a flame.
He smiles, stands up and strips. You take his clothes as they fall and fold them, put them to one side, until he is naked.
As usual, you can’t take your eyes off his manhood. It is eight and a half inches long and thick. It is cut, so you can clearly see the bead of precum leaking from his urethral slit. 
He steps forward, his manhood now two inches from your face. You know you cannot touch it. The first time you did, he spanked you until you cried. You cried with the pain, but the humiliation of the moment played its part too.
He steps forward and you open your mouth and his glans enters you. 
You know what to do now as you close your mouth around the glans and lick with your tongue, shivering as you taste the precum you had so wanted.
Then he sinks his cock further into your mouth. You don’t resist, just let him push until it hits the back of your mouth, interfacing with your throat.
The first few times he did this, you choked, your gag reflex letting you down, causing more spankings. Then he bought you a dildo and you practised with this at home until you were sure that gagging was a thing of the past.
He had been pleased with you then and the next time you came he put a necklace on with your name in silver letters: Slut Alice.
You were so pleased, you have never taken it off. You rightly see it as a form of ownership by him, a brand that shows who you belong to.
You feel it now, brushing your neck as he pushes his cock further down your throat, holding your pony to ensure he gets maximum depth. You try to look up but all you can see is the muscle wall of his six pack.
You stay quiet and try to suck in a little breath around his cock: it is difficult, but possible, but you can still feel the world greying out a little, your eyes rolling up into your head.
But you aren’t worried. He is a master of this and pulls himself out leaving you whooping for breath, streamers of saliva connecting your mouth to his cock.
As soon as you have your breath back you eagerly come forward again, wanting  needing his manhood in you, penetrating you, demeaning you, treating you like the cocksleeve that you are.
His cock sinks into your mouth again and as it does, his phone rings again. He grabs your pony and sits down, pulling you with him, still firmly embedded in his mouth.
You know what is expected now. It is his wife and he will have a conversation with her, while you, his patient sub will kneel with his cock firmly ensconced in your mouth. You know you will have at least ten minutes of this with five inches of his manhood embedded in you.
But you don’t care. As he talks to his wife about his day at work, what the children are doing at the weekend, the new car they plan to buy, you stare up at him with doe eyes, pleased to be the one that is pleasuring him at the moment.
You don’t suck, lick or otherwise move, just hold his cock in your mouth. This is what he means by cocksleeve. He has been quite plain about this before that your holes are only there to serve him; nothing is for your pleasure.
He finishes the call, looks down. His hand grabs your pony and yanks you down onto his cock, pushing the whole length into you leaving you feeling his balls against your chin. Then he pulls back, repeats, pulls back, repeats and gets a steady rhythm.
You are nothing more than an appendage now: a masturbatory aid that will be the receptacle of his seed in a short while.
He has his phone in his hand now, videoing and you know that this will be on Squirt later, showing off his slut to other better men than you.
He pulls you off his cock, grabbing it and masturbating now, his hand flashing up and down his length. You watch with bated breath, watching, gauging his mood. You know it will be soon.
He nods and you put your head down and lick and suck at his balls, determined to drive him more quickly to orgasm by your tongue.
And then his orgasm is on him. He takes your pony again and drives his manhood into your mouth and as he does, the first spurt hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag a little. Then he pulls back. He is a heavy cummer; it is one of the many things you love him for and he fills your mouth with his seed.
Spent, he pulls out but you are not finished. You show him his cum in your mouth, sloshing around. He examines it, nods, and you close your mouth and swallow, open you mouth again, show him what a good slut you are.
If you could but touch your clit now you are sure that you would explode. But that is not to be. He will take you to bed tonight and , sometime in the night will wake you with his cock at your cunt lips and then fuck you into heaven.
You lean forward and take his cock head gently in your mouth, cleansing him and giving yourself and extra minute of slutty pleasure.
Then it is over. Now you have kitchen chores and washing to do and move to the utility room to put your maid costume on.