a statement of intent pt 3

A long long time ago I wrote two fantasies on here (linked to below). Recent events have encouraged me to continue the fantasy.

pt1

pt2

pt3:


I hurried after him as quickly as I could in my heels. The cool air raising goosebumps all over my naked flesh.

I was conscious of the plug he'd inserted moving inside of me as I walked. Although it probably wasn't that big it felt large and I was intensely aware of how it constricted my pussy from fully closing. With that and the effort to keep up in my heels I was careful not to drop any of my clothes. I couldn't imagine how I would ever manage to bend down to pick them up if I did.

I tried to remember just how in only fifteen or twenty minutes I'd gone from nervous and fully clothed to terrified and naked, in heels, plugged and following a man I hardly knew around his house carrying a bag of make-up and a pile of lingerie and and a dress. It was all a blur.

He lead me into a large bedroom. Clean, tidy, big bed covered in crisp white bed linen. Another door, ajar, leading to an en-suite bathroom.

"Put your clothes on the bed Amber."

I placed them as neatly as I was able on the sheets. Next to a leather collar and leash already positioned there.

"Good girl. You are a girl aren't you Amber?"

"Yes Sir." My eyes still nervously drawn to the collar.

"I thought so but do girls have erections Amber?"

I wasn't sure how to answer so kept quiet, collar already the furthest thing from my mind. I think he could tell I was confused. "That's okay Amber. Some girls do have special clits. Like you. Not to worry it doesn't mean they're any less feminine. Just that they have to learn to think about their body differently. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir. I think so."

He reached out and gently held my hard cock in his hands.

"Do you Amber? What is this then?"

"My clit Sir."

"Good girl."

He took one of my hands and replaced it for the hand he had been holding my clit with. He sat down on the bed. Wathing me intently as I stood there, in heels, naked with my hard clit in my hand.

"Masturbate for me Amber."

I hesitated for a moment. He started to ask again but before he could I began to slowly tug at my clit.

"No, not like that."

I stopped mid stroke.

"Like the girl you are Amber. Just use your fingertips and rub your clit like a real girl."

I closed my eyes and imagined myself with a real clitoris and how I would massage and press on it. That the tip and head of my clit were the real thing. As I thought about myself as a girl I felt my fingers start to slip over the base of my glans, slick with precum.

"That's it Amber. Open your eyes though and look at me while your doing it."

I obeyed and stared into his eyes as I masturbated. His eyes flicking between mine and my fingers. Rocking slightly on my heels I sensed the plug inside of me more and more with each passing second. Soft moans working their way up from my chest and into my mouth.

"Good girl. Now tell me you're a sissy girl."

"I'm a sissy girl." Each word punctuated by a sharp intake of breath as I became ever more aroused.

"Sir!" Not angry but firm.

"I'm a sissy girl Sir."

"Good girl Amber. Keep saying it. Over and over. I don't want you to stop until you truly mean it."

"I'm a sissy girl Sir. I'm a sissy girl Sir. I'm a sissy ..." Over and over. Each time more breathless than the last as I moved closer and closer to climaxing. Staring into his eyes. Repeating the mantra he'd imposed on me. Edging ever nearer orgasm.

Until finally, rudely interrupting myself mid sentence with what could only be described as the girliest squeak I'd ever heard myself make, my whole body spasmed and I came; my hand just quick enough to cup over the end of my clit and contain the flow.

My breath short, quickly cooling cum threatening to dribble through my fingers and the plug almost like some kind of weird alien presence inside of me I suddenly found myself feeling very aware of my surroundings, full of shame and disgust and wanting to escape as quickly as humanly possible.

He stood up slowly, almost deliberately aiming to appear non-threatening. A kind, not at all judgemental smile on his face.

He lightly brushed a finger over my cheek causing me to flinch slightly. "Shhh. It's okay. Good girl." His voice soothing me as he softly whispered praise and told me how good a girl I was.

I was aware of how vulnerable I was, naked there with him so close, but it didn't feel dangerous. I could tell he was being respectful of me and taking things slowly, at my pace. Carefully assessing the situation at all times. I felt safe.

He nodded towards the bathroom. "Why don't you clean up Amber, get dressed and all made up for me? I'd love to see how pretty you look."

I nodded. Unable to speak for the time being. Not able to trust my own voice.

"Good girl. I'll give you some time to yourself and go and get us something to drink. Then when I get back maybe, if you'd like of course, we could see how well that collar fits?"

He patted me gently on my naked bottom. The plug vibrating slightly at his touch and reminding me of its presence. He seemed to remember it being there too. 

"You've got my permission to remove it whilst you get dressed Amber. It might be more comfortable for you. You have to promise though to put it back in when you're finished getting ready."

"Yes Sir. I promise."

"Good girl. There's some lube in the bathroom." With that he left.

I stepped out of the heels and rushed to the sink to wash my hands. I stood there staring at myself in the mirror. This was when I'd normally be leaving. Feeling guilty and empty after cumming. I removed the plug, feeling release as my pussy finally relaxed. I rinsed it clean and put it on the side of the sink to put it back when I was finished dressing. Realising as I did so I'd already decided I was staying. 

I thought about the collar lying on the bed next door and how it would feel when he placed it around my neck. I thought about our first kiss, the first time he took me in his arms, the first time was asked to give him pleasure. A shiver of excitement ran down my spine and I remembered I was still naked. Reinvigorated, I looked at the girl in the mirror staring back at me and tried to work out how I was going to make myself the prettiest I'd ever been for my Master. 

is it wrong?

that I find these deeply erotic?

I reacquainted myself yesterday with my collection of dildo's and watching these clips today I could almost feel them inside of me again.

And is it weird I find them intensely romantic too?

The end of a prolonged session of foreplay all building up to this moment. The beginning of submitting to him and heightened sensuality. Hours later, the taste of his cum tingling on my tongue and the thick fumes of poppers infecting my brain I'll be as filthy a little slut for him as he desires. A begging compliant toy for his insatiable cock. But this first time he'll treat me like a precious object to be broken in gently. His princess, savoured slowly and taught how it feels to give herself willing, to lose ownership of her own body to a gentle but powerful man.

Too much to wish for? :-)

Scenario #1

A gentleman on TVChix wondered when I might post some more prose.

He'd like to explore possible scenarios.

I'd like to explore them with him very much too. So here's the first in hopefully a series. This ones very possibly less exciting for him unfortunately (sorry Tim) but it would still have my heart beating like a military drum! I should stress that unlike my 'meet' posts this has NOT happened.

Also sadly Amber only gets to be in this one in spirit :-(

My body was waxed. Silky smooth and moisturised. I was wearing black lace panties and they felt wonderful against my skin. My toe nails were painted fire red. I'd even slipped in a little plug to keep me feeling girly and submissive.

But I knew he wouldn't see any of that tonight.

I was about to finally meet the man with whom I'd exchanged messages for the last few months. He, sadly for us both, was going to have to suffer the disappointment of spending a stolen hour sat in a pub with my dreary alter ego though. I was happy and excited he was willing to do so, to see if on some level we had similar desires for future encounters, but I was also nervous he wouldn't be able to see past the drab shirt and jeans that made up my boring 'work' attire and glimpse even a small aspect of Amber.

I'd left work as early as I could so I could get there first. We'd arranged to meet in a quiet little bar he knew in the City. I imagined, with him being far more experienced in these matters than myself, he used it frequently for these kinds of liaisons. It was classy, low lit and with tables set into little cubbyholes for more privacy.

I ordered myself a dry white wine ( I know, a walking cliche!) and chose the table furthest from the bar in case, as I hoped it might, conversation turned to scenarios he'd like to explore with someone (hopefully myself). Although part of me would have savoured thinking the table next door was eavesdropping on what I wished would be a sordid chat it felt safer to try and maximise any sense of discretion. It was dark and candlelit and I imagined it might even feel a little romantic if I weren't dressed so uglily.

Normally when plugged I'm a blissful state of arousal but my parts remain relatively lady-like. On the whole I feel much more feminine that way too knowing that they are only really a minor distraction from what I'm slowly learning through self training is my true erogenous zone. Tonight though I could feel them straining against my lace panties, already a little wet with excitement. I was dreading the moment he walked into the bar as I worried I might not be able to control myself. I'd never felt so erotically charged in such drab attire.

I messaged him my location in the bar. The thought of him not recognising me (which was highly likely) and having to watch out for a stranger to wave over at him was horrible. He'd sent me a picture early on in our initial messages so I at least had the advantage of knowing which handsome man I was looking out for.

I focussed my attentions on my phone, continually checking it to see if he'd replied.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin. A tall handsome man, in an expensive suit (God I felt even more poorly dressed now) was stood at the table. It took a moment before I realised it was him and found my voice. "Please do."

He sat opposite me. A big glass of red wine in front of him on the table.

"Hello Amber," he said softly. I was so relieved. I'd wondered how we'd address each other all day. Although I had no problem with him knowing my other boring name, I felt that despite my outward appearance I desperately wanted him to think of me as Amber right from the start.

"Hi Tim," I managed to blurt out, "I normally have more hair." I smiled nervously. What a stupid thing to say.

He returned my smile, "I know, I've seen the pictures remember?"

I relaxed a little. Drank him in. He was so imposing, manly. And held himself with calm confidence. I felt my insides flutter a little as I fleetingly imagined what it would be like to feel myself in his arms.

"So how was your day dear?" he said. Followed by a cheeky grin.

I laughed, "Fairly nerve-wracking. Yours?"

"Busy but I have been looking forward to meeting for our little chat."

"And now you're here?"

"I'm not going anywhere just yet. You have me at a slight disadvantage but that's not necessarily a bad thing. It merely means I'll have to use my imagination even more. Do I meet your approval?"

I hoped he wouldn't see me blushing in the flickering candlelight. "Very much so Tim. I'm even more nervous now, I had no idea how I'd feel sat opposite you."

"And how do you feel?"

"Like the plainest girl in the world," I laughed, "confronted with Prince Charming. A little starstruck to be honest and very much wishing this was a date rather than two 'guys' meeting for a drink."

"Our first date." He laughed loudly enough for the barman to look over at us. "Well if you want to think of it as such I'm okay with that. Let's talk about what a second date might look like though. I'm sure you have plenty of interesting ideas about that don't you Amber?"

We were only there for a couple of drinks but it felt like hours as we got lost in sharing our deepest desires.

How I wished to be taken under the wing of a strong gentle man. Dress to please him, feel his tender touch and caress. His lips on mine. His strong hands guiding me in the ways of pleasuring him. His fingers inside of me as I learned how his cock liked to be treated. How to tease him to the edge and then bring him back to tease him all over again. What it would feel like for a real man to make love to me. How I would give my body to him to be eaten, stretched and trained to accommodate him fully. To take me and make me his woman, his property. To be tied and at his mercy. To be raised to such heights I'd be begging him to never stop. To be his plaything. To play roles for him, become his fantasy girl. To submit fully and be owned, even just for a few short hours.

And he shared his desires too and we discussed where they met and what we should explore. I watched his lips as spoke, wishing circumstances were different and I could feel them on my own and taste his tongue, sweet and warm from the red wine he'd been drinking.

A few times, as we chatted, I wished he would place his hand over mine but I knew that was as unlikely to happen as him sidling up next to me in the booth. Which was probably just as well. As we shared sordid fantasies, if his body had been so close to mine I would have been in torment, wanting to feel his hand on my leg, wanting to gently hold his thigh and feel his manhood twitch as I whispered my deepest desires to him. As much as I would have wanted that to happen I imagined, despite his obviously very active imagination he might still struggle to view me as the little sissy girl I felt myself to be in his presence. No matter my attire.

And then we parted. Went our separate ways in the night.

And I sat on the train on the way home, acutely aware of the plug inside of me and the dampness in my panties I was giddy and excited and hoping beyond hope he had enjoyed our chat just as much as myself and that he would contact me for a second date. And this time I would make sure he met Amber properly.