After 3 marriages I figured I wasn't cut out for it. I've been playing in girlfriends' and wives' undies forever. I like it. I've even stolen panties and bras from neighbors and some friends. At first, I felt like wearing the clothes made me feel close to the women. But soon I realized naughty thoughts of being seduced by masculine, horny men, or used by the husbands of the women I stole the undies from, would come screaming into my head.
Now I dress as often as I can. And living alone and working only a few days a week gives me much too much time for it. I've collected so many sexy and nasty items. It didn't take long before I was into binding myself too. Being bound while dressed made me feel even more feminine and helpless. I like those feelings. I was never very strong with the women I've been with. They always ruled me. Am I some sort of pansy? Submissive little bitch? Maybe I always have been? Now I just need to decide if meeting a man will be worth it.
The 'doublelist' is new to me. There are a number of men who say they are dominant gay men. I posted two pictures of me. One in panties and a little lace bra and top. And the other with my mouth gagged ladies' panties and my hands pinned behind my back like I was bound. I got several responses almost immediately.
Gary wants to meet me today. He sent me his address. He ordered me to put on some lace undies like in the picture, bring extra panties for my gag, and be there right away. I was so nervous! I told him I might need to slow this down. He told me to fuck off and I didn't hear from him again.
Steven wanted to meet in a bar. I was good with that. he was older and rougher looking than his picture. He took my arm and tried to get me out to his truck almost right away. I guess he liked me. I asked him to chill a little. At least let me finish my beer. He leaned in close and said: "Look, if this is going to work, you need to do what I tell you. Isn't that what you asked for, bitch?"
I looked back at him. I slowly nodded.
"Good girl. Now follow me out to my truck and don't give any more shit."
It was late. Almost 10. Dark and cold outside. Once we were in the truck, he told me he really liked my picture with my mouth gagged. He handed me a roll of really wide grey tape and told me to use it for a gag. He ordered me to. "Gag yourself like you're a kidnap victim. Do it right now, bitch!"
I must have waited a really long time. He put the roll in my hand, but I couldn't move it. I couldn't move at all.
"All right. I'll do it then."
He took the roll and quickly ripped off a long piece. He told me to look at him. The thick tape was even wider than a usual roll should be. This is some sort of special industrial tape, I thought. He draped it tightly against my closed lips. Pressing it firmly against my face. The piece went from my ear to ear. Another piece is pulled off. Another mouth silencing wrap over my mouth. Then another. I let out a "Mummph!" When was he going to stop?
Twice more and he was satisfied. He looked at me like he was inspecting his work. He smiled. "Press it on tight. Go on. Be sure it doesn't slip around."
I pressed my hands over the tape, being sure it was sticking to my face. 'It felt naughty.' I thought to myself. It was covering my pathetic, submissive expression. While my hands were out in front of me, he wrapped more tape 5 or 6 times around my wrists, binding them together. He pushed my head down into my lap and continued wrapping the tape around my ankles. Securing my hands down between my knees to my feet. I was bent over, helpless, in a dark vehicle, in a darker parking lot. Bound, gagged, and in trouble.
His hands wandered up under my T-shirt and down the back of my pants. He was checking out the pretty lace bra and panties he asked me to be wearing. He took my head in his hands, turning me toward him.
"Now I'm going to take you home. Just like you wanted. I'm going to take you home and make you my bitch."
I let out a pathetic whine. But I liked his hands on me. This was going to be scary, or awesome. Is this really happening? Fuck.
Now, off we went in his truck. It was happening. Weather I want it to, or not.
Billy
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
