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Chapter
1
She wasn't a 20-year-old
statuesque blonde corseted in fine leather. In fact, she was rather
middle-aged and plain. She was 40-ish, but dressed well. Her height
may have topped 5 foot 4 if she were wearing fetish heels, which
she wasn't. Her figure, well, let's just call it ample. Her face
wasn't stern; as a matter of fact, it was rather kindly. Her dark,
kinky hair (the only thing that seemed kinky about her from her
appearance) hung loose, but stylishly towards her shoulders.
I looked at her across
the bar where she was sharing drinks and good times with her friends.
To all outwards appearances, she was merely a middle-aged businesswoman
to judge from the smart, but conservative clothing she wore.
So why was it I thought,
"domme" the moment I saw her? What was it I could see
that other men couldn't? I grabbed my scotch and water, strode over
to her table, smiled at her and said, "Hi, I'm Nate. I get
the feeling that you are an interesting person. I'd like to get
to know you better." I was never one to play games, and I've
found that the direct approach has been much more successful than
any pick up line I've ever heard.
"Well Nate, I'm
Gwen. Come sit!" The way she said it wasn't so much an invitation
but an order. "These are my friends Arlene and Glenda."
I nodded and smiled at
the women.
"So what makes you
think I am an interesting woman?" I noticed that while I used
the word "person;" she used the word "woman."
"I don't know."
I answered. "There's just something about the way you carry
yourself - a certain air of confidence perhaps."
She smiled back at me.
"You don't know the half of it" she replied. "OK,
Mr. Nate," she said with just the slightest hint of sarcasm
on "Mr." "Just what do you do with a confident woman?"
"Well, I'd cherish
her for one thing," I responded.
"Cherished?"
She raised an eyebrow.
From the corner of my
eye, I noticed how Arlene and Glenda were leaning forward, being
drawn into this tableau.
"Yes, cherished!"
I said more boldly. I am not a wimpish submissive. "Cherished,
to be put on a pedestal, to be pampered, to be worshiped and adored."
I amazed even myself with the speed we cut through the normal verbal
dueling that normally accompanies a first meeting of this sort.
Gwen and I wasted no time sniffing each other out. Within minutes
of meeting this woman, I was confessing my submission and she was
establishing her dominance.
She laughed and tossed
her head back shaking her hair. The action seemed like a signal
in some primitive mating ritual. "Are you sure you're man enough?"
she countered.
"I'll leave that
for you to judge. If you are what I think you are, you'll accept
my offer."
She drew herself up in
mock indignation, "Oh, a challenge! Is this to be a contest
of wills?"
"No, I prefer to
think of it as a dance of the wills."
"Let me think about
this," she mused. After a moment's hesitation, she added, "Just
what is it you think I am?"
Now it was my turn to
hesitate. I temporized, "I think you know what I mean."
It was the first retreat either of us had made since starting the
conversation.
"Oh, I am certain
I know what you mean" she said, pressing on with her attack,
"I just want to hear you say it."
"I think you are
a dominant woman," I muttered.
"Louder, boy!"
she commanded, "I want my girlfriends to hear you."
"I think you are
a dominant woman," I proclaimed, much more boldly this time.
Arlene and Glenda giggled
at my announcement and embarked in a whispering session between
them. Finally, Arlene stood up, and said, "Conference time,
girls" and nodded towards the ladies' room.
Gwen ordered me, "Sit,
boy. Stay!" as she went off to join her girlfriends.
I sat for what seemed
an indeterminable amount of time, but which was in reality under
10 minutes when the three of them returned.
Gwen broke the uneasy
silence, "So you want to serve women?"
I merely nodded.
She went on, "Then
let's blow this place off. I think we'd all be a little more comfortable
somewhere else."
She motioned to the waitress,
and I paid their bill.
"Come with me,"
Gwen beckoned, "We'll drive. You can pick up your car later."
Arlene and Gwen guided
me to the back seat of what I presumed was Glenda's car. I was ushered
into the seat to sit between the two women. Glenda, who was rummaging
for something in the trunk finally got in behind the wheel. She
threw a pair of panties over her shoulder and into my lap.
"Put these on,"
ordered Arlene.
I looked at her confused.
I was wondering how I was going to get them on over (or under) my
clothes and in the cramped confines of Glenda's back seat.
"Over your head,
boy."
The light went on! And
so did Glenda's panties. They made an effective blindfold. They
also had a very strong odor.
Glenda could hear me
snort at the smell and explained, "Those are my gym panties.
I wore them all day yesterday, and again this morning during my
workout. They've been sitting in my gym bag along with my sneakers
and socks all day."
I had no doubt. Yet there
was a certain excitement of being so close to something so intimate
to a woman's body that excited me. My penis stiffened in appreciation.
I don't know if the women
noticed it or not. But, suddenly Gwen ordered, "Take it out
so we can see it."
It never even occurred
to me to doubt which "it" she was talking about. I reached
down and unzipped my pants. It was difficult getting my erected
penis through the fly while sitting down, but I did manage it.
"Glenda, keep your
eyes on the road," I heard Gwen admonish. The three women cracked
up at that remark. They seemed to be especially festive, and I couldn't
tell if it was due to the alcohol or the fact that they had a male
plaything at their command for the rest of the evening.
We drove for about 15
minutes with Gwen and Arlene giving my penis an occasional brush
to keep it steely-hard and pointing to the ceiling. Every now and
then as we'd pass a streetlight, I could hear one of them giggle
as apparently my organ came into view. By the end of the drive,
I could feel the slipperiness on my penis. They did a great job
of teasing me without giving me any more satisfaction than my anticipation.
These girls seemed to have some experience with men's apparatus.
After a sharp turn, apparently
into a driveway, we finally came to a stop and I was led out of
the car. One of the girls took my cock and walked me for about 100
feet and up a couple of steps. I could tell that there was a floodlight
on, but where I was, and who else could see me was unknown to me.
A dog barked nearby and I could tell that the women had a sense
of urgency to get me in.
Nonetheless, we stood
on a porch for what seemed like several minutes while one of them
fumbled for her keys. The clanking of the keys and the many items
on the chain were loud in my ears - noises get amplified and time
gets distorted when you can't see anything. I was sure all this
activity would draw attention to our group.
I could feel the draft
of the door being pushed open and I was led into darkness. My panty
blindfold was removed just as a light came on, and I found myself
standing in a kitchen. I blinked my eyes at the sudden flash of
light.
"You'll have to
get used to this place," Gwen giggled. "You'll be spending
a lot of time here tonight."
Meanwhile Glenda was
leading the way, turning on lights, and putting on music. Apparently
this was her house. "Bring him in here," she finally said
from a back bedroom.
When I got there, she
was standing in a closet looking through clothes. She took out an
outfit or two, held them up, frowned and put them back.
"Take your clothes
off, Nate." Gwen ordered. "You're going to become Natalie
for the evening. You'll be our maid and serve us."
Meanwhile Glenda apparently
found the outfit she was looking for. It was a simple white blouse
with just a trace of trim down the front, and a plain black skirt.
By this time I had finished
undressing and stood naked before the women.
"Ewwwe," Arlene
exclaimed, "Look at all that hair. We have to do something
about that."
The next thing I know
is that I am standing in a tub. With three women lathering me up
in cold water with some sort of scented soap, and attacking me with
razors. I closed my eyes as I could feel six hands on various parts
of my body.
One of them grabbed my
penis. I wondered how she could hold onto it as slippery as it was
with the soap and precome. I felt the razor being maneuvered around
my most sensitive areas. The cold water retracted my balls, and
I guess that made it easier for the women to shave them.
In a matter of minutes
I was shivering and smooth from my chin down. I daresay that these
women knew what they were doing; my body felt silky, and didn't
have a single nick on it.
"Wash off!"
Arlene barked.
I never felt so naked
in the shower before. Even my "protective" layer of hair
was missing. I could feel my skin more than I had ever before. It
felt eerie to have my hands slide over my body and meet no resistance
at all. I wondered if this is the way women experience their bodies
when they showered. It felt particularly funny when I got to my
genitals and had the water just slide off.
I looked down at my hairless
crotch; it looked so exposed and vulnerable. Without the contrast
of the dark pubic hair, my penis and testicles seemed smaller. It
was like taking a step back to boyhood, and becoming less than a
full man.
"Come on, slowpoke,"
one of my mistresses reminded me. "We don't have all night.
We have things to do. Places to go. People to see."
I giggled, hoping that
those words were just an idle threat.
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