Message-ID: <21185asstr$942541801@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Authentication-Warning: backdraft.briar.org: smap set sender to using -f From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern) X-Newsreader: Session Scheduler Subject: {ASSM} A Place of her Own by Vickie Tern 8/10 TG F/m Femdom X-Original-Message-ID: <19991111093919.25568.00000045@ngol02.aol.com> X-To: story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us JMDigest-Score: good -18 Date: Sat, 13 Nov 1999 20:10:01 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: assm-admin {Vickie Tern} NEW TG: A Place of Her Own 8/10, F/m, M/M etc, femdom This story depicts sexual activity of various sorts among consenting if sometimes also credulous and deceived adults. If you are not a consenting adult don't read it, no matter how credulous or deceived. It's not for you. Not yet. "I thought so," Tracy replied to my silence. "The answer is, yes, you will see him, probably. I've already spoken to Sally's wife about it. She drives a hard bargain." Tracy smiled. "But no harder a bargain than the other women in your life. And all for your own good, anyhow." I didn't understand, but since Tracy already knew that, I didn't bother to say so. "Keep in mind the way you feel now, honey. You'll need to remember it. Because the next few days will be nowhere near as romantic. The next few days will help you discover other aspects of your femininity, and if they aren't there to explore you'll just have to pretend they are. You need hard practical knowledge of male desire and how to satisfy it, and you'll also need to remove any last inhibitions on your own sexual appetites. I mean to try to locate the slut in you and set her free. If there's an Amy who'd just as soon whore as do engineering consulting, that's who I need to find." "Sally's only known me as a virgin. I've never been with other men. Would he want me after I've been a whore?" I wanted to be obedient, but I was worried. "He knows that one of his tasks last night was to relieve you of your virginity so you could... extend your experience with others. If you two want to get together again afterward, well, that's between you two. But don't worry. Remember that a confident woman can usually lead a man to a correct view of things. By his prick if no other way." "All right." "We'll begin slow, this very evening, and by Friday you'll be up to speed. Amy, I think you'll be thrilled when you see where you end up! Now, what did you prepare for us for this evening's dinner? viii. We were sitting over coffee and talking about our sexual fantasies, how both sexes want monogamy for their partners but promiscuity for themselves, so neither is ever satisfied, and how jealousy is one part fear, one part desire, and one part envy, topics like that, girl talk, when Tracy was buzzed from downstairs. "Of course, come right up!" I heard her say from the hall phone. She came back in. "We're having a very special visitor. You'll do whatever either of us says," then went to the door to wait for him. The elevator door in the hall rolled back and there was a single short twinge of a doorbell. Tracy threw open the door and was immediately swept up in the arms of a large and powerful stranger. They kissed as if plastered together, then separated, and Tracy, still flustered, led him into the room to meet me. "Amy," she said. "This is Scott. He's my husband." "Amy," was all he said, advancing to take my hand into his huge paw. He looked to be the size and solidity of a wall! This was astonishing. Tracy had never mentioned a husband. Many lovers maybe, but one in particular? I knew her to be bisexual with a preference for women, one reason she was interested in my conversion. But a man? A man's man, muscular and keen-eyed? I said nothing, but tried to look pleasant. He could crush me if he knew that I'd been intimate with his wife, I was thinking. But all of her friends know about me. Some of it must have gotten back to him. Besides, is it intimacy if her purpose isn't to feel intimate but to project control and humiliation over someone known to be vulnerable? Maybe he should apologize for her, rather than avenge himself on me. Then I remembered that I was a woman. The thought would never occur to him. I was not his rival. "Please to meet you," I said in reply. I very nearly curtsied. "Yes, of course," he continued. Then as if making conversation, "Amy, I hear you've been fucking my wife." Shocked, I tried to follow his lead. "Now and then, Scott," I said breezily. "But she's been fucking me too, so I guess the score's even." "Not at all," he said, sitting in a comfortable chair opposite me and leaning back. "You owe me!" The conversation was getting past me. I gaped. "She's Bi. I knew that when I married her, so I agreed that now and then she could enjoy being with a woman. I'd enjoy being with the same women myself, but since I was married it didn't seem appropriate. I knew that if I ever wanted to fuck a man, she'd be similarly understanding. But I haven't wanted to. Until maybe now, maybe because you don't look like one." "Now as I see it, you owe me. You're a man who's a woman, becoming a woman who was once a man. If you fucked her when you were being a woman, you owe me the same roll in the hay. If you fucked her as a man, using a man's cock, as I suspect you did, you owe my cock a turn at you. Either way, honey, you're fucked. So which are you?" "I'm a woman now," I said. "My cock doesn't work any more." I hoped that argument was somehow relevant. I hoped he wouldn't ask for proof. "Show me." Nothing emphatic in the way he said it, but he meant it. I pulled up my dress and lowered my pantyhose and showed him. There was my flaccid, pinky-sized cock and marble-sized balls. "Why don't do you trade those things in for something that works?" "I don't know," I said. "I'm sorry!" "Sorry isn't good enough. What do you think I want you to do?" "Make you happy!" It was an inspired answer. I was scared to death of this man! But it was the right answer. He leaned back in his chair and waited. Fifteen minutes later I'd been unfaithful to Sally. Scott's fresh cum was mixed with Sally's in my tummy. Desperate and fearful, when I took him into my mouth I did everything I could think of to please him, whatever I'd done lovingly with Sally and lots more. Finally it had brought him off. "And?" he said when he'd recovered his breath. I knew what he meant. He was one of those. His prick had leaned over momentarily, but it was now again erect. I decided that we were quits, that from now on he was in Bonusville. I got off my knees and stood up and straightened my skirt. "And?" I asked him, my hips undulating once, looking directly at him. I was determined that he name it, before I did anything else with him. "Fuck me, honey." He'd named it. He'd named me. "Only if you'll fuck me too, lover boy," I replied. I turned and backed onto his cock and sat down on it, and we fucked. He moved and I moved, and we reciprocated and repeated ourselves, more and more frenzied and then berserk until finally as these days it always did, my sphincter muscles clamped repeatedly onto his silky soft, iron-hard tube, over and over. I felt my rectum fill up with something slick and syrupy, and a trickle or two of clear drip dribbled from the tip of what had been my penis. That was enough to incite him to do it again, to mix even more of himself with Sally inside my rectum, He resumed thrusting and throbbing until I was altogether out of my mind and he was lunging himself high up into me while I flailed at the end of his pole. He felt twice Sally's length, but I doubted I could tell anyone even my name at that moment. With good reason. "Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" I said. I was exuberant! Glowing! My whole body knotted into rapturous spasms. He lunged into me and held himself rigid. I felt more slick than ever down there. When I lifted off him I had to stuff my panties between my cheeks to keep my skirt from staining. "That's very nice," he said with a certain awed gratitude. "Tracy's done all right by you! Why don't you get rid of those things hanging down there and get a place put in instead where a man can enter and feel at home?" "You're a nice man, Scott. Almost the nicest I've ever sucked and fucked." "Out of how many, Amy?" "Two. Counting you." I suddenly realized that for whatever reason, obedience to Tracy, respect for Tracy's husband, fear of him, guilt that I'd fucked his wife, I had just betrayed Sally. Two ways. I'd sucked Scott and fucked him, and enjoyed it both times. The first time from obligation, maybe, but the second time obviously for the pleasure of it. I realized that I'd do it again. With that thought I smiled at Scott and reached for his long wet cock, now lying across his thigh. I wanted to do it yet again! "No, Amy," he said. "Whatever you have going with Tracy, I call the score even now. If you need a recommendation some time I'll write one for you. I envy you, Tracy, in a way." Tracy? I'd utterly forgotten! Tracy! Where had she been all this time? I looked up and found the answer at once. Sitting in a chair by the fireplace the whole time, watching. She'd seen me work her husband over twice and not uttered a sound either time! Now she spoke. "It's always a pleasure watching a sissy man get fucked in the ass by a real man. Scott never could keep it in his pants. Ask any of his more recent wives -- I'm one of the early ones. I've got to congratulate you. Tonight you fucked Scott out of obligation and then for fun and yesterday with Sally it was out of genuine affection. That means you can be sweet and sincere but also that you can be a tramp. One day in love with a nice man who cares about you, and the next day fucking a stranger! That's useful to know about yourself. It means you can indulge yourself any time and not give it a second thought." I was astonished. She'd told me he was her husband, not her ex. She'd tricked me. But I couldn't evade the point. My mouth and my ass were now impure. I'd been untrue to Sally with the first man to come by after him. Deliciously satisfied by that man moreover. This morning I'd been a woman in love. This evening I was a woman who'd gotten laid and loved it! "It's important to know who you are, honey," Tracy said. "Why you balled Scott isn't significant here. There are always reasons. The fact is, you betrayed those romantic feelings about Sally you were cherishing all day. You fell in love, and then fucked someone else. Well, sometimes women do. A woman can fuck a hundred men all day, and then come home to her husband or boyfriend and lovingly fix him dinner, knowing he'll never know. And the whole time, he knows he'll never know what she's really done all day! That's our mystery and that's the source of our power over men!" "When you were a married man, were you ever unfaithful to your ex, to Tricia I mean? For any reason?" "No," I said. "Never!" "Yet she was routinely unfaithful to you, and you knew nothing about it. See? Well, tomorrow," Tracy said, opening the door to her flat. "Tomorrow come by around eight, and we'll teach you a lot more about being a woman. She had a point somewhere, but Scott had fucked my brains out and I couldn't think. I went through it feeling beaten. Scott watched me go, amused. I didn't look back. I went straight to bed and cried myself to sleep. Poor Sally! In the morning I felt a little better. I realized I didn't need to tell Sally anything. The next day Tracy arrived home late. I waited a few minutes and rang her bell. She came to the door flustered, and when I glanced past her shoulder I saw someone was with her. "Amy! I'm sorry, I had an awful day at the clinic today and I'm exhausted. Then I ran into Sally here and we began talking, and... but you haven't met Sally yet, have you? Only Sally's husband, the other Sally." She stepped to one side and said "Sally, this is Amy. Amy, Sally." "How are you?" I said in an ingratiating tone, thinking 'this is my arch-rival.' "I've heard so much about you." She was a well-turned-out woman just beginning to lose what had obviously been a hard bodied figure, softening into a middle aged spread. There was nothing soft in her face, however. Gimlet eyes. Even her hair looked enameled. "I'll bet you've heard about me!" Sally replied. She made no move to reach for my outstretched hand, so I let it fall. "You're Amy, eh? Not bad looking for a girls man. Better than that faggot bastard deserves." "Never mind that," Tracy replied sharply. "We've settled that. There'll be no reconsiderations!" "No, we've agreed," Sally replied equably. "But isn't this the night Amy-boy here was supposed to go out and get his ass fucked silly, get gang-shagged by a hockey team or something? So he won't mind what happens to him tomorrow night?" She said this last in a level, deliberate voice, as if Tracy were reneging on something." I looked at them both, not at all sure what was going on. "Yes," Tracy said. "Damn! Things got so hectic at the clinic today I forgot to call to make the arrangements. Tonight I need at least three guys in his mouth and his ass all night. Five, preferably. Then when he's had enough, he needs to know there's no such thing. By morning I want getting fucked to become a way of life for him. I want him waving his ass at anything with a dick after tonight, never able to forget how good it felt." "I can take care of that," Sally told Tracy with an amused glance at me. I was still bewildered. "No problem. Shall I?" "Please do," Tracy said. "Be my guest!" Immediately Sally turned toward me. "Amy," she said, "There's a lovely little gay bar south of main street." She took out a pencil and small pad. "Here's the address. The same place I sent my Sally for his education, I'm sure he told you all about it. Dress yourself as attractive as you can and get your little pussy out there. Don't take your own car, and don't take any money, and don't come back until you've got $500 in your purse, all of it earned with your mouth and your ass. If you're good, you'll have it by morning. If you're very good, that is!" She smiled maliciously. Then to Tracy, "See? No problem. Tonight, any time anyone asks him to open his mouth or lift his legs, he won't feel offended or conscience-stricken. He'll feel grateful, because he needs the money. He'll even be eager to hustle a little something extra for tips. If the cock sucking and the fucking are also fun for him, that'll be the extra. That's why they say 'once a whore, always a whore.' Once a girl's spent a night turning tricks, all men look like tricks to her forever after. She knows without thinking what they want and how to give it to them, and what it should cost them. Our Amy will come home to us thinking like a whore. That's how we want her to think, isn't it?" "That'll do the job," Tracy said. "Go ahead, Amy. You're losing time and opportunity even as we speak." "But without a car or money for a taxi, how do I get there?" I didn't like the sound of any of this. "On your back, dear," Sally said, interrupting Tracy, whose face showed sympathetic concern while Sally's showed none. "There are men with cars all the way between here and there. And there's a doorman downstairs, isn't there? Give him reason to be kind to you. Do we need to explain everything?" A minute later I was ransacking my closet. My desire to be a proper, respectable, 'nice' woman had betrayed me, I found. I had no provocative clothes, only a range of decent ones, the most exciting intended for formal wear. Finally I found that black satin micro mini I'd rescued from the Salvation Army box when I was packing to come here how long ago? Months? There it was, a leftover reminder of the days when I was a cross-dresser imagining I was a slut. Now I really was a slut. I slipped into it. With a wide red belt around my now-quite-narrow waist to emphasize my now-quite-well-rounded hips, and with my hair pinned high up and held by a red ribbon, I looked appropriately available, I thought. Crotchless panties -- I remembered how I found out that mine weren't the only ones in Trish's and my lingerie drawers, nor in our bed. Whatever happened tonight, I wouldn't be any more a whore than she'd been. On the spur of the moment I pulled on thigh-high black boots. You never know, I thought. Then as I left my place I remembered to toss into my purse some Kleenex, Kotex pads, and K-Y jelly. The three K's, I thought to myself, never leave home without them. ' While slathering on heavier-than-usual makeup I decided I would not put the make on any of our doormen -- they'd tell each other, and they'd all expect favors from me forever afterward. Instead, when I got downstairs all I did was smile and ask him to call me a taxi. When it came, I leaned through the door, handed him Sally's slip of paper, and said to the driver, "Honey Bun, a blow job or a fuck up the ass to take me there." The driver glared back at me. "Sorry, lady. I'm a married man," and he handed me back the paper and sped off before I could shout after him, "So what? So was I, once!" I told the doorman the driver had been rude to me, please call another. The next one was also rude, but this time I didn't mind. I was toughening up, the way a whore should. The third taxi driver looked me over when I put the choice to him, my mouth or my ass, and replied "Both!" "If you're man enough," I said, and hopped in. He was man enough. A half hour later when we pulled up to the bar my anal pussy was well-lubricated and incredibly stretched. No more need for K-Y jelly for sure, I thought. It hadn't been at all demeaning. The driver had been gentle and as he approached his climaxes he'd been vigorous and impassioned as he thrust into me. Even considerate! I'd caught some of his erotic energy and begun to give as good as I was getting. I even orgasmed onto his cock when he was deep in my ass! As I got out I turned to give him a big kiss. "Thank you, sweetheart," I told him. "You felt good and you tasted good. I could eat you for breakfast!" He grinned back. "No thanks, honey cheeks, I don't usually have fruits eat me for breakfast! You make a great girl! Good luck in there! Maybe some other time!" And he sped off. When I stepped inside I saw that the bar was large, with a huge dance floor in back surrounded by tables and a deep thumping sound making conversation difficult. The bartender motioned me over immediately. "Tonight's pretty busy, love," he said. "Our regulars have more than they can handle, and most of them are leather boys anyhow, not at all pretty like you. So you're welcome to stay. But we insist on a flat rate here, $25 any time your John gets off, and $10 for any time he doesn't. Whatever brings him off, or doesn't. It saves argument and holds down price-gouging. The house gets 10% if it's anyone you approached here. Male or female. With some people like you, you can't tell, and it doesn't much matter." "That's not much," I said, my heart sinking while I calculated how many times $25 went into $550. He shrugged and turned to serve a customer. So I went to work. I hustled. I eyeballed men lined up at the bar to find the most likely, concentrated on only the likely ones, and once I learned how to say things to them with an insinuating smile, more often than not I was off to the parking lot with them. There were subtle signals I learned to pick up from the cruisers, and signals to ignore from the mere voyeurs. I got several customers just by weaving by myself on the dance floor, making the most suggestive moves I could imagine and accomplish with my upper body -- my breasts nicely set off by the stretch satin -- then sinuously writhing my pelvis as if there were a real precious pussy inside, with a prick already in it, always meanwhile waggling my bubble-shaped ass. Everyone gawked, and some came over to chat me up, then feel me up, and so forth. I loved it! It was odd. I really did love it. It wasn't me serving them, but me dominating them, controlling them. I could bring any man to his knees, figuratively speaking, when I went down on my own knees in front of him. His rate of breathing, whining, desiring, concentration, everything was in a single lick of my tongue or pursing of my mouth. And when we went back to their cars and they were pumping in and out of my slick, soaked, distended, grasping asshole, it was heaven. I wore their penises like silk rosettes, badges of honor. Only the thickest of cocks made me lose control, forget who was in charge. Those few, once inside me, could turn my entire body into quivering, brainless jelly, pure joy. I'd cover those men's faces with kisses afterward. And with the $25 fuck fee they'd often leave me a $10 tip! At three in the morning the customers were thinning, and I was still nearly $100 short. A man took me in his arms to dance, and while I was calculating who else I might hit on, my eyes roaming the few remaining occupied booths, he asked me, "Are you still short, Amy, or are you doing this now for the fun of it, on your own time?" I looked up and sure enough, it was Sally! Looking tenderly down at me. With other men's cum streaming down my leg into my high boots, here was the man of my dreams holding me solicitously in his arms. I wanted to kiss him, but other men's cum still coated my lips -- I hadn't bothered to wipe the last few mouthfuls of sperm because I'd found that a thin film of cum was more soothing than saliva for coating my irritated mouth. He kissed me. Full on the lips. I burst into tears, and almost collapsed, almost inconsolable. "Oh, Sally! Oh Sally," I sobbed into his shoulder. "I'm so very ashamed! I wanted to be true to you. But now I'm a whore and a slut!" "No, Amy, no, don't be! It'll be all right! I know what this is for! It'll be all right!" "I've been with other men!" I wailed. "Lots!" "No, you've been learning more about how to please me!" "But it turns out I love it! Not just with you. With other men! Anyone, nearly! I never thought I'd want sex with a man, but here I am doing it with whoever wants me." "Even so, I'll always be your first. And I still want you." "You can taste other men's cum on my lips, I'm sure." "Amy, that's not new to me, remember. I like the taste of other men's cum. The same way you do!" 'Oh, Sally!" I cried with relief that he still cared for me, and I cried for joy that I was dancing in his arms. I hugged him. We finished our dance. "How much more money do you need?" he asked. "$100! And the crowd is thinning out by now! "I'll pay you for two tricks, Amy. I'd love to. I'm good for two cums." "I can't take money from you, Sally!" I cried. "I love you!" It was out! I'd said it! I was appalled! What had I done? Sally was unperturbed. He replied calmly with miraculous words! "And I love you too, Amy. I realized some time ago that the way my wife has reconditioned me, I can find full happiness only with a girl like you. With a boy-girl. I never dreamed she'd be as lovely as you are!" "But I'm a whore!" "So am I. Remember?" I was delirious with delight. We went back to his car and within 15 minutes I'd earned $50 more from him and a $10 tip. Then he just held me while I plastered myself against him. Finally he said,"Amy, you've got to get back to work. I'll wait for you here. Here's a hint. The booths still have people in them not yet ready to call it a night, dating couples and young marrieds, straights who come slumming to the gay bars for the novelty of it. Mostly. You're clever. I'll bet you can get $50 out of one of those couples with no trouble, if you put your mind to it. I did just that. I sat down with the first couple nearest the door and smiled at them. They smiled back uncertainly. They assumed I was a woman, but in this place they couldn't be sure. Nor could they know what I wanted. I settled their second uncertainty immediately. I spoke to the woman. "I'll lick your cunt for $25. Until you cum. While your friend here watches. He might learn a few things about what girls like. No orgasm, you owe me nothing. " The man spoke up. "Now see here," he began, trying to work himself up to a righteous indignation. "See here young woman!" With that I knew I was home free. I continued as if uninterrupted, "Then I'll suck your cock for another $25, Mister, while she watches. She'll learn how to do things she's never dreamed of before. How to use her mouth to turn your brains into Jello, for one thing. You'll both live happier ever after." "We don't do oral sex," the woman said. "It's disgusting!" "You won't need to do it," I said. "I'll do it. All you need to do is lie back and relax and watch and enjoy. Then when I've done it you'll know more about it, and can ask each other a few questions about what one is willing to give up for the other to take. I'll leave you two alone now to talk things over." I got up and went over to the bar, just out of earshot, or nearly, but I could hear then discussing my proposition rather intensely: "Just watch! You don't have to DO anything!" and "No, you wouldn't have to touch me there ever again, not ever!" and finally "We could both learn a thing or two from her." They signalled me over. Sally's wife had been right. A single evening of hustling and the feel of a dozen cocks in my mouth and another dozen in my asshole had changed me. I wasn't so much numb as habituated, impassive. They sat side by side so they could each look down at me while I worked them over, and I knelt confidently under the table. First I did the woman. She was easier to bring off than Trish or Tracy or any of Tracy's friends had been. God, she must have been terribly hard up! She was panting within a few minutes and shrieking within a few more. Then squirming so wildly I could scarcely tongue fuck her into a finale! Half the people left at the bar heard her scream and turned to watch. As she finished and was trying to catch her breath she gasped "I never! I never!" to herself over and over. When I turned to unzip her husband I saw why she'd never. He was smaller than even me, even after my months and months of hormones. I took the whole of him into my mouth and began to tongue him. He grew. When he was a full four inches I worked only his outer edges so his wife could see how. I sucked the tip and ran my lips down the shaft a few times, then licked the underside while he moaned. When he finally came, I clamped down tight and swallowed noisily, so she'd know what was happening. But I kept most of his cum in my mouth until I could stand up, lean over, kiss her and push some between her lips. Then while she reeled back shocked, I kissed him the same way. end 8/10 (c) 1999 by Vickie Tern (VickieTern@AOL.COM, all comments welcomed)  VickieTern@AOL.COM -- If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment. Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | ASSM Archive site +-----------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | | --- | +--------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | This newsgroup is moderated by ASSTR, an entity supported by donations. | | If you enjoy this newsgroup, please consider making a donation to help | | Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository keep providing this free service for you.| | Donations: | \_________________________________________________________________________/