Lilith Langtree’s – Chaos Magic

TG Fiction – Nothing is True and Everything is Permitted

The Assistant (Last Unfinished story, for now)

Okay… this story was an experiment. I wanted to try to write an erotic story at first since it had been so long since I had actually written anything along those lines. I wanted it to be something classy and not the usual wack-along one would find at FM or Storysite. I wanted to push the edges of that boundary as close as I could and still be proud of what I wrote. I think its advisable to give you a warning as to the content, so as to not go running for the hills at the first sign of the topic.

It’s about a regular guy who finds out that one of his old friends from high school is into the fetish scene, slavery to be specific. Don’t worry, it isn’t explicit (no whipping, beating, degradation, etc.) He gets his friend out of the scene, but has to deal with how screwed up her mind is at the time, while dealing with his own attractions. It was supposed to be about finding middle ground and acceptance, about helping her become a real person again, but… well, I reached a point and felt disgusted with myself for the direction it was going. I think you’ll see what I mean when you reach the end.

There wasn’t really that much more to the story after that point… a years later scene, with them married and being a healthy couple. Ugh. The story would probably be a candidate for the Romance contest at BCTS, but … I don’t know. Judge for yourself. Again, this is a discarded, unfinished story, but not by much, so you should feel a sense of finality at the end.

A last word of warning. There is a little sex in this, but I’ve read much harder stuff from books I’ve bought at Wal-mart.


I blame my editor. It’s all her fault. Well, not entirely all her fault. It was my stupid brain that came to a complete standstill a third of the way into my latest novel. Is it a shortcoming that I don’t have a totally deviant mind? No, it’s not. I was raised a somewhat moral child. Like any other teenaged male I checked out the girls in school, had perverted fantasies about the six senior cheerleaders and me alone in locker room… normal stuff. So why in heaven’s name was I at a slave auction?


Don’t worry, it’s not for real. There’s a charity involved somewhere along the perverted line. That was the plot for my story. Oh, I’m being stupid; my name is Christopher Jonns and I write under the pseudonym Trevor St. John, author of a popular series of detective books. Except I’m not writing anything at the moment due to a considerable lack of experience in the more seedier side of society.

The last manuscript I sent to my editor was promptly sent back. The accompanying phone call wasn’t pleasant. It lacked reality in a certain area and thus here I am, experiencing reality. Maggie, my editor, set the whole thing up. By contacting a friend of hers in the city, I was the recipient of one invitation to a local bondage club where I was supposed to purchase a ‘slave’ for a week of service.

I could almost feel the bile rising up from my stomach.

If there was one thing I was adamantly against, it was slavery of any sort. Well, that and a thousand other things, but we’re on this topic at the moment.

Everything was for charity and since it was for work, in my case, it was almost all tax deductible through the agency.  So, there was absolutely no reason I could say no. Yeah, I argued the whole ‘having someone in my house that I didn’t know’ angle, but it was shot down.

Maggie dropped off a box load of, how should I say this, equipment. Said equipment would ensure that I wouldn’t be killed in my sleep, and if I felt adamantly against having someone stay in my house then I could release the victim cum volunteer that same night.

My idea? I would purchase this slave, take her home, interview her about the lifestyle, so I could incorporate it into the story and then let her go.

It’s all barbaric sounding, isn’t it? How could you keep all the perverted serial killers out there away from something like this event. It screamed ‘free victims’. That’s another thing. It’s a private party. Everyone knew who everyone else was, or they were vouched for, in my case. Either way, being a newbie in the scene, I had to bring three forms of identification just to get through the door. It was all scanned, nice and neat at the front desk.

“A guest of Maggie Fairmount?” the mid thirties blonde girl behind the counter asked. “How is Mags?”

I scowled. “A pain in my butt.”

She waggled her eyebrows. “She said you’d say that.” Holding up a finger, she bent down under the counter and retrieved a silver hoop about seven or eight inches in diameter. There was a piece of metal hanging from it with something inscribed which I couldn’t read at the moment. “She also said that you wouldn’t think to bring a collar and I was to give this to you. You can’t leave with an uncollared slave.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re joking.” Taking the metal collar in hand I read the hanging tag. Owned by Master Christopher. “You’re not joking.”

“Here’s your bidding pad.” She handed over what looked like a palm pilot. “You’ll find the slaves up for auction are wearing white collars with a PIN number on the tag. Enter the PIN number into your pad and then whatever it is you want to bid. It updates automatically.”

I reluctantly nodded.

“Did you bring anything to change into sweetie?”

I glanced back up to her. “Uh, no. Coat and tie isn’t enough?”

She looked at me like I wasn’t serious, for a second, before laughing. “Oh, they’re going to love you in there.”


Love wasn’t the word I would have used. The interior of the private club was something from the turn of the century, the twentieth, not the twenty-first. A gentleman’s club was brought to mind. The furniture, a dark cherry wood; the armchairs and couches, deep red leather, plush and well worn. The one thing that stood out more than anything else were the occupants.

Leather, latex, and PVC was the theme of dress. I should had known from my research into the lifestyle that wearing a coat and tie to such an event would be considered a faux pas. As was quickly coming to the conclusion that I should hide myself in a secluded corner somewhere, I was approached by a black-haired vision of loveliness holding a tray in her hand.

“Sir, would you like a refreshment from the bar?”

She didn’t look me in the eye, instead she seemed to be focusing on my nose. “Um, yeah. Single malt scotch, neat.”

“Sir, as you please.” She curtsied and spun away.

Her dress matched the deep red of the chairs and couches. It was shiny, but not overly tight across her body. PVC. While I wasn’t one for ogling girls beyond the casual glance of appreciation, I followed her bare legs with my eyes. How in the world could she walk around in heels that high, I had no idea. I had trouble walking properly in cowboy boots on those rare occasions that I was dragged away to some themed party or whatnot that Maggie had arranged for me.

Such is the life of a popular author. I don’t know how many times I had to whore myself out to the general public in order to sell my books. With a sigh I cleared the thought from my head and set about scanning the decent sized crowd.

By using simple deduction, there were three types of people present. The better dressed ones, those who’s outfits looked like they cost several hundred if not thousands of dollars were the owners and buyers. The ones trailing behind or at their knee were their current slaves or submissives for the evening. And the ones walking around, occasionally being manhandled and stared, not to mention sporting the white collars, were the slaves up for auction.

It was enough to drive a rational-minded man to drink.

“Sir, your beverage.”

I turned to see the server had returned. Sitting atop her tray was a glass with two fingers of a nice brown liquid. I sipped at it, experimentally. There’s no tell what brand of liquor they served. Most people wouldn’t know a decent single malt from a blended. I was pleasantly surprised.

“Thank you.”

She curtsied. “Sir, you are welcome. If it pleases you, Sir, I have been assigned to act as your guide for this evening. If you have any questions about proper etiquette, or about any of the slaves being presented tonight, I am at your service.”

That took a small burden off of me. “That’s wonderful. My name is Chris.”

Her eyes widened a little at the appearance of my hand for her to shake. “Sir, I don’t mean to embarrass you, truly. It is unseemly to touch another’s slave without permission from their master or mistress.”

I clinched my eyes shut. Stupid! “Of course. I should have remembered.” The rules were there for a reason.

She held out her hand toward the majority of the crowd standing around enjoying the atmosphere. “Sir, you are of course allowed to inspect the offered merchandise.”

Glancing at where she was gesturing I raised an eyebrow. “Inspect?”

“Of course, Sir. If you would like to direct your attention to the left, you will find a master inspecting the teeth and breast firmness of a potential slave.”

And there it was, some perved-up guy sticking his fingers in a girl’s mouth while feeling her up. Jesus. “Uh, no thanks.”

“Sir, as you wish.”

I nodded and looked away. “I’m just going to browse around for now, if you don’t mind.”

She smiled and curtsied again. “I will be at your disposal, Sir. Enjoy your evening.”

There was nothing more I wanted to do than to buy one of the girls and just get the hell out of the freakshow that I was currently wading in at the moment. So, I took a set in one of the armchairs at the periphery and looked for someone that I could set free at the end of the evening.

Punching several of the PIN numbers  in my pad, I received relevant data as to the going price range of the potential slaves, and was astounded at the numbers I was seeing. Well, Maggie did say it was for charity, and the publishing house would cover the expense.

It wasn’t until the auction was about to end, and I hadn’t made my choice, that I spotted a girl that looked vaguely familiar. She was in the mid-five foot range, with black hair that reached the middle of her back. Her costume for the evening was a latex minidress that hugged her body not unlike a second skin, but that was the purpose of latex. She teetered on high stilted pumps and looked very comfortable wearing them. The mind boggled. The white collar around her neck was the only other thing that she wore.

I tried to get a decent look at her face, but every time I stretched to the side, she turned away a little more. With a sigh, I tossed back my third drink for the evening and stood.

“Your attention please. There is five minutes remaining to enter your bids.”

Checking the pad once more I confirmed the time and looked up to find the girl had disappeared. Dammit! Scanning around without trying to make it seem like I was desperate, I spotted her twenty feet away with her butt being grabbed by a buyer.

I made quick work sifting through the ten or so people until I reached the girl. Since she was currently being pawed, I thought it best to just get her PIN and go from there. Her face turned again and I could only get a halfway decent side view of her cheek, but I did see her PIN tag well enough to gather the needed information. Good enough. I’d buy her, find out if she was actually someone I knew, interview her and then go to bed.

Never again. I’m sticking with simple plot lines from here on out.

The bidding for the girl looked like it was between two perspective buyers and myself. Not wanting to walk away empty handed with the possibility of having to return at a later date, I punched in a fairly high bid above and beyond the other two.

It was a few seconds later that I heard someone behind me cuss. I smiled to myself. I’ve been to professional auctions in the real world. These people were amateurs.

The pad flashed to indicate that one of the bidders had bowed out, and then a minute later, then other did the same.

“Final bids, please. One minute remaining.”


The only people that were left, to my relief, were the new owners. I was presented with a USB flash drive with pertinent information about my new slave. Guh. I was a slave owner. Thank god it was only pretend.

The drive was supposed to contain medical information, past training, habits, and hard limits of the subject. I didn’t have my laptop with me, so that would have to wait until later.

They were nice enough to allow the girls a chance to change into street clothes if we wished. I did. They also retrieved the collar that Maggie arranged for me to use. It was a simple silver hoop, so that wouldn’t stand out in public at least.

I pocketed the flash drive and waited patiently until my research project finished primping or whatever it was she was taking so long in doing.

When she finally came out, her face was downcast and curtained by her long hair. She wore a black track suit or maybe one of those yoga outfits that were popular at the moment, and in her right hand she trailed a decent sized suitcase. Beside her was the lady that took my ID at the beginning of the evening.

“Mr. Jonns, it’s my pleasure to present your new slave. Her name is Michelle. Of course you may change that if it’s not to your liking. Michelle, say hello to your new master.”

The girl curtsied, and cleared her throat slightly. “Good evening, Master.” All of this was performed with her head bowed, so I still couldn’t get a good look at her face.

I leaned forward and grabbed a hold of her suitcase. “Hi, Michelle. Let me get that for you. My car is right out front.”

The hostess smiled at me. “Enjoy.”

Have you ever received a look of ‘I know something you don’t know’? That’s the feeling I got before we left.


She sat in the front seat of my Jeep Liberty, still with her face downcast. It was starting to get annoying, making me bring visions up in my head of her previous master beating her into submission or something equally as repugnant. “Michelle? Are you hurt?”

“No, Master.”

I shook my head, if only to myself. “My name is Chris. I’m not into the scene. Master makes me sound… evil. So if you don’t mind…” I left that suggestion hanging there, hoping she would take the initiative and call me by my actual name.

“As you wish, Master Chris.”

I almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. “Just Chris, Michelle. No Master, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.”

It was like pulling teeth, I tell you.

When we approached the first stoplight, I brought the car to a stop. “Michelle, would you look at me for a moment?”

I saw her take a deep breath and release it before turning her face toward me. Finally. Tear tracks ran down her cheeks, and her eyes were red. Then I finally figured out why I was having such a hard time ever since I first spotted her. It was because I knew her, almost as well as I knew myself, almost five years ago. The problem was that I didn’t know her, I knew him.

My mouth dropped open slightly in disbelief, but before I could voice my shock, the car behind me honked its horn. The light was green. Through muscle memory alone my feet and hands responded. I looked away and then saw the guy I once knew as Kevin Thomerson look back down.

I was flabbergasted at the situation. Kevin, me and two other guys were best friends all through junior high and high school. Sure Kev was short, never seeming to go through puberty like the rest of us, but he was part of our group. I never once suspected that… this… that he…

“I’m sorry for not letting you know about this before you bought me, Master.”

“Stop calling me that!” I snapped in shock, or anger, I didn’t know which. She flinched away and I heard her quiet sobs, thus I immediately regretted the tone. “Michelle, Kevin, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just… Jesus.”

Popping open the console at my side I withdrew a hand full of tissues and passed them over. She grabbed the bunch and patted at her face. She — god was she even male anymore? Those breasts I saw back at the club sure as hell looked real enough.

Not another word was said until after we arrived at my home. This would be familiar territory for… ugh, Michelle, I guess. It was my parent’s home before they took off on a early retirement to tour the nation in an RV. Popping the back open, I grabbed her suitcase and then opened her door.

“Come on inside, Michelle. I’ll make us some coffee.”

She followed me inside and then stood to the side of the door for a moment before kneeling to her knees with her hands clasped behind her back.

“What are you doing?”

She didn’t look up. “Awaiting your orders, Sir.”

Was she serious? Okay, it seems like I have a little conditioning to break. “I want you to take your suitcase up to your room. Pick one, it’s doesn’t matter. Take a bath and relax. When you feel better, we’ll talk.”

Without any preamble she did as instructed. I sighed and reached for the medicine drawer where I kept the Tylenol. I had a feeling I was going to have an industrial strength headache before the evening was over. The first thing I had to do was take a look on that flash drive to see exactly what the hell it was they did to my old friend.

Once the coffee was set to dripping, I made my way to my office and flicked on the computer.


It was worse than I thought.

The medical file showed that Kevin was in transition from male to female and he was nearly complete. The final cut was all that was left. From what I could decipher, Kevin had been taking some sort of male hormone blocker since he was fourteen and once he was eighteen he’d been on female hormones. His breast development was real, no implants. He’d had a little reconstruction on his face, a smaller, more streamline nose and his chin was shaved a little. Beyond that, everything else was natural.

In my wildest dreams I would have never looked at Kevin Thomerson with anything resembling lust, but the latex encased girl at the club was something else altogether. No, I didn’t perv on her, but I was still quite male and could appreciate how sexy she was in the outfit, and those heels.

The slave training she’d received was considerable, and somewhat disturbing. While I knew a lot about sex, including the alternative side of things, I was still surprised when I found out that Michelle was pretty much experienced in every conceivable act known to fetishism. To top the whole thing off she was severely submissive.

Her previous master even left notes beside each entry describing what to expect. The last part is what bothered me the most.

Michelle is entirely dependent on her Master and is virtually unable to make any decisions on her own. Her devotion to the lifestyle is absolute and will make sure every want and desire you have of her is fulfilled. Treat her well.

My mind was starting to wake up. This wasn’t some one shot deal for charity. I couldn’t just give her taxi money and send her on her way at the end of the night. I actually owned a slave.


I brushed my teeth for the second time, after emptying the contents of my stomach in the adjoining restroom.

“Master Chris.” Her very feminine sounding voice came from the office door.

I froze for the briefest of seconds and spit my toothpaste in the sink. “Yes?”

“What would you like me to wear for the evening, Sir.”

I rolled my eyes and cringed. “Uhh… Do you have anything — god, how do I ask this without sounding like a jerk — anything normal? A robe or something?”

“No, Master Chris.”

Great. “Go to the master bedroom.” No the irony is not lost on me. “Grab one of my shirts for now.”

“Yes, Sir.” She sounded so small and innocent. I’m going to kill Maggie at the first opportunity.

I shut down the computer and headed toward the kitchen. By the time I filled the mug and added two sugars I was almost calm enough to actually speak without fear of making an ass of myself. I brought the mug to my lips and turned around just in time to see Michelle step into the kitchen. It wasn’t the best of timing.

Yeah, I burned my tongue.

Standing there, in one of my thin white button downs was a little angel. Her hair was still wet. Remembering that she couldn’t make any of her own decisions anymore, I suppose I should have added the little caveat of blow drying her hair to my instructions. The tails of the shirt made it to her mid thighs and her little fingertips  were poking out, just past the cuffs. I did notice that her nails were long and painted.

The worst part was seeing my shirt wasn’t the best choice for modesty’s sake. It was thin and her nipples were dark and making little tents, plainly on display. Definitely need to get her some clothes, quickly.

I cleared my throat, trying to act nonchalant. “Would you like some coffee, Michelle?”

Her eyes looked up at me, but did not meet mine. “If it pleases you, Sir.”

Sighing, I set my mug down. Obviously I needed to take a different tack. “Do you still like coffee, Michelle?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Good enough. I poured her a mug and mixed in sugar and milk, if I remembered Kevin’s tastes properly.

“Come on. Let’s go into the living room and we can talk there.”

She waited for me to pass and then followed a respectful distance behind. I arranged a couple of coasters and set the mugs down before sitting in one of two armchairs. Yes, I was expecting her to choose the couch or the other armchair. Instead she knelt at my feet. Feeling anger at whatever led her to do this, I pulled it back into myself.

“Michelle, I want you to make yourself comfortable on the couch and drink your coffee until you are satisfied.”

“Yes, Master Chris.”

This whole master thing really needs to take a vacation. “Let’s set some ground rules, okay.”

She sipped at her mug with what looked like heavenly delight. “Yes, Sir.”

“Okay, first rule. Drop the Master, the Sir, the Master Chris, every term that places you subservient to me. My name is Chris. You know this. Now, can you follow that rule?”

She swallowed, nervously. “Yes… Chris.” I could see how much she was uncomfortable with saying only my name.”

“Good, great. Now, I want you to tell me how you got mixed up in something like this, Michelle. The last time I saw you was high school graduation. I’ve kept in contact with Glenn and Wayne, but you dropped off the map.”

She seemed reluctant at first so I tried to ease the way. “I’ve seen your medical records. You’ve nearly transitioned into a girl. It said that you’d been taking hormone blockers since you were fourteen. You wanted to be a girl all that time?”

She nodded.

I starting grasping at straws for questions. “Did your mom and dad not want to help?”

She shook her head no.

“Did they kick you out?”

No again. “I left.”

From what I remembered, Kevin was holding down a counter job at MacDonalds. There was no way… ahh. “It was the money. You didn’t have any.”

“Just enough to pay for the medication.”

I made the only conclusion that I could come up with. “You sold yourself to pay for the procedures.”

She looked down in shame, not answering me. “My previous master didn’t want a full woman as a slave. When I finished all of the procedures up until that point, he… he sold me.”

I set my mug down and leaned forward. “Michelle, you could have come to me. Hell, you could have come to any of us. I thought we were friends.”

She sniffed. “I was scared.”

Running my hands over my face in mild frustration, I thought about that. She was right. If I was in her position, I probably wouldn’t tell me either. The thing was, Kevin was one of my best friends, and now that he’d become Michelle, I felt so incredibly sorry for her.

“Look, I’m not going to own a slave, okay? You’re my friend, and I’m not going to treat you like you are beneath me. So this is what we are going to do.”

She raised her head a little.

“Do you have enough money saved to finish your transition?”

She shook her head no.

“Fine. You’re going to work for me, as my assistant.” Her eyes widened. It was the first time I had seen her hopeful all evening. “We’ll get you some insurance and make sure that you’re taken care of. This whole slave thing ends here, tonight.”

Now her face fell. Was I missing something here? “What?”

She looked to the side, uneasy, and tried to say something. Her mouth opened and closed again a couple of times. Her hands tightly gripped the mug. You can’t be serious.

“Michelle? Are you trying to tell me that you want me to own you?”

Her eyes flicked up to my face, still not meeting mine. The slight upturn of her lips told me all I wanted to know. She liked being a slave, she wanted to be owned. Leaning back in the chair, I took the mug in my hands and gingerly sipped at the lip. Great, just great.

“Okay, we’ll take this thing one day at a time. I’m sure that regular duties of an assistant are pretty similar. Maybe you can double as a…” I waved my hand in a circle trying to rationalize the situation. “A maid or something.”

Her slight grin turned into a full fledged smile.

I sighed. “No French maid outfits or latex. We’ll go out tomorrow and fit you out into a new wardrobe, and get you what you need to take care of yourself. Okay?”

Michelle sipped merrily at her mug. What the hell had I gotten myself into?


After an hour, I could barely drag any particulars about her condition and needs, so I called it a night. Making sure she was tucked into bed, I turned out the light in her room, directly across from mine, before going through my nightly routine. Twenty minutes later, I turned the light off and tried my best to find a comfortable position in my king sized bed.

Right when I was in that netherland between sleep and wakefulness I heard a very light knock on the door.


The door opened a crack. “Chris?”

I rubbed at my eyes. “Is something wrong?”

“I can’t sleep. I’m not used to sleeping alone.”

I blinked in the relative darkness. Well, I guess it wouldn’t be the first time we’d slept together. There were plenty of sleepovers in the past. “Did you want to sleep with me?”

“If it pleases you.”

I sighed and smiled slightly. “You getting a good night’s rest would please me.”

Michelle slid through the small opening she made with the door. That was when I’d noticed that she wasn’t wearing the shirt I’d lent her. This whole situation was getting stupidly out of hand. Before you’d know it I’ll be wearing leather straps and paddling her butt.

With a small movement of the sheets, she slipped into the bed and scooted over until she was right beside me, doing everything but physically touching me. Feeling her eyes on me, I knew she was waiting for me to invite her to the place that women in my bed normally took.

She used to be one of my best friends. Would you not comfort one of your friends after five years of slavery?

I lifted my arm. “Come here,” I said as lightly as I could. The moonlight sifting through the window let me see a reflection off of her teeth when she smiled.

Two seconds later, I felt her warm, naked, smooth body against mine. A single leg crooked up and over one of mine, tucking her foot in neatly at my calf. Her head rested comfortably at my shoulder and her hand glided over my chest and abs before resting on my opposing hipbone. Everything felt so incredibly good. It had been almost a year since I had been out with the guys, and picked up a girl for meaningless sex. The feeling of her soft breasts against my side was reminding me of that simple and annoying fact.

“Thank you, Mas… Thank you, Chris.”

“You’re welcome.”

We lay there for what had to be about five hours, but was probably more like ten minutes. I had already grown fully erect and I was inadvertently brushing against her forearm. The one time that I actually wished I was small in that area and it was beyond me.

Michelle’s hand centered itself on my abdomen. She knew she was turning me on. It was obvious even to a blind man… or women, as the case may be. I twitched accidentally when the bottom of her hand touched the tip. That was when her hand slid down and I found out exactly how warm her palm was.

Her voice followed in a whisper. “May I please you, Chris?”

My sex drive was screaming yes! However, my head was still relatively in charge at the moment. “That’s not why I invited you into my bed, Michelle.”

“I know that, Chris. I… I want to make you happy.” Her hand cupped me and her deft fingernails scratched teasingly along my perineum.


I couldn’t even get another word out, because her hand moved back up and gripped me lightly, stroking me twice. “I can make you very happy, Chris. Let me show you, please.”

“Okay.” I’m slime, the worst sort of person imaginable, taking advantage of an innocent like this. What I was doing was wrong.

Michelle wasted no time moving under the covers. Before I knew it, I was completely surrounded by the most wonderful warmth I’d ever felt. It was very rarely that I’d received oral from a girl. Usually it was only used as a precursor to the main act itself. But Michelle made this seem like this is what she lived for.

I heard noises from her throat telling me how much she enjoyed what she was doing. Either that or it was how she was trained. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’d hoped that it was the former. Minutes turned into an eternity of delightful feelings that she showed me until I felt that oh so familiar sensation of release approaching.

“Michelle, I’m almost there.” The least I could do was be a gentleman. I would make her… “Oh god!”

Her suction increased and her tongue did something underneath the head that sent a jolt of pleasure up my spine until I released into her eager mouth.

She eased up and drank me into her, gently massaging me in long slow strokes until I was spent. A few moments later and she had resumed her original position at my side, hot and glowing with a sheen of sweat along her skin.

Michelle sighed in contentment while I basked in the afterglow. “Thank you, Master.”

I couldn’t bring myself to complain at that moment. Instead I wrapped my arm around her and made sure that she knew that I enjoyed the gift she gave me. “Thank you, Michelle. That was probably the best… it was the best.”

Her hand ran over my chest and down to my hip before she returned to its place between my thighs, cupping me gently.


That’s how she woke me in the morning. I hadn’t nearly reached any point of wakefulness when I felt her mouth working its magic once more. Well, at least she’s making certain decisions for herself.


By the time she’d returned to my side once more, the sun was cresting and shining its way into the bedroom. “Good morning, Master. What would you like for breakfast?”

Straight to work, I see. “I think you’ve done enough to make me happy for now, Michelle. I can make breakfast.”

She frowned. “That’s supposed to be my job isn’t it?”

I sighed again. “If it will make you happy, go ahead.” Her cute smile returned and she bounce up to kiss me on the cheek. “Thank you, Master.”

I lifted my eyebrow at her.

“Sorry. Thank you, Chris.” She smiled happily at me and virtually bounced out the bedroom door. Then thing was, I didn’t see anything extra bouncing along with her, if you get my meaning. Michelle was completely smooth down below. That puzzled me. I had thought… no, I knew that there was no medical procedure done down there and she even told me that she wasn’t completely a women as of yet. So what the heck happened to… never mind. When she wants to tell me, she’d tell me.


Breakfast consisted as eggs, homemade biscuits, with honey, and plenty of coffee. Who would have thought that Michelle would make a wonderful cook?

I tried to keep from leering at her dressed solely in one of my mother’s aprons. The strap that ran around her neck barely covered her areolas. It was distracting as hell.

“We definitely have to get you some clothes this morning.”

She grinned happily at me. “I don’t mind being nude in front of you, Chris, if it pleases you to look at me.”

I shook the image of her vacuuming the carpet in the nude out of my head. “That’s not the point.”

Her grin increased. “It pleases you then?”

I rolled my eyes at her teasing. “If you are fishing for a compliment, Michelle, there’s no need. You’re a beautiful girl.”

Her eyes kind of glassed up for a second before she got all shy on me. “Thank you, Chris. I’m glad I can make you happy.”

Reaching over, I lay my hand on top of her. “Just being my friend makes me happy. ”

Michelle’s eyes did glass over this time. “May I be excused, please?” I nodded. She was up and out of the room in a few seconds.


My new housemate had a wonderful experience shopping. She felt guilty for making me spend my money on her, but I insisted she get anything that caught her eye. That was one of the big things I liked about being a bestselling author. Money wasn’t really an issue.

We went home and emptied the Jeep, before heading out again to the local Target to buy her necessities, and one stop at a medical supply store for surgical adhesive, whatever that was for.

When I noted that she didn’t have any shaving equipment, I was informed that she’d already had that taken care of. She’d never have to shave ever again.


Michelle nodded. “Laser removal. I highly recommend it.”

My eyebrows bunched together. “For whom? Me?”

Her laugh was infectious. “If it pleases you. Lots of masters have their hair removed. It makes wearing fetish outfit’s a lot easier.”

Again I didn’t understand. I was kind of getting annoyed that I didn’t get half the stuff that was coming out of Michelle’s mouth, because I was so inexperienced.

“If you try to put on or take off a latex outfit, it’ll rip a lot of hairs out in the process. Liquid latex is almost impossible to take off. It’s almost like waxing. So, a lot of people into the scene just have their body’s lasered or electrolysis.” She grinned at me kind of playfully. “Plus it’s sexy.”

I shrugged. “On a girl like you I’d have to agree. On a guy like me.” I gave her that ‘not so much’ tone. She disagreed.

“I think you’d look hot like that. Not that you don’t already.” She blushed. “There’s just a lot more you can do with a smooth body.”

“A lot more? Like what?”

“Well,” she paused for a second and then her eyes sparkled. “If it pleases you, I can always show you.”

I almost laughed, but I knew she was serious, by her tone. “Uh, I don’t think I’d like to have all of my hair removed by a laser, no offense.”

Michelle giggled. “I mean, when we get home, I could shave you and we could play a little.”

I glanced over at her. A hopeful look was on her face. “Michelle, I don’t expect you to feel indebted to me. I don’t want that. I want you to feel free to tell me to take a hike if you want. You’ll still be my assistant and I’ll still help you any way I can.”

“Thank you, Chris.” Her lips twitched to the side with amusement. “May I shave you when we get home and show you some of the things I was speaking of?”

In one ear and out of the other, I swear.


When it came to being nude in front of me, Michelle didn’t have a care in the world. She loved showing off her female body, and she loved catching me staring at times. Now me, on the other hand. The entire time she was working on my arms and legs, chest and other, more sensitive areas, I was red as a beet.

I wasn’t like Bigfoot or anything. I was just average hairy. After each limb or other area, she rubbed in some lotion she said that would help make sure that I didn’t get razor burn, then she’d tease me mercilessly. Her body constantly brushing up against me was keeping me at full mast. It was almost imperative that I try to get my mind on something else.

Since she was sitting on the edge of the bathtub working diligently on my last leg, I could see between her legs a lot better than I could this morning. Something definitely didn’t look right.

“Do you mind if I ask you a personal question.”

“You may ask me anything. I have no secrets from you, Master.” She cringed and looked up at me. “Sorry.”

I tried to look annoyed, but I think I was failing miserably. “I know you haven’t had your final procedure yet, but…”

She followed my eyes down to her crotch. “Oh, it’s still there, just tucked away with the surrounding skin glued in a way that gives a decent illusion.”

“Glued? Is that what the surgical glue is for?”

She nodded.

“Doesn’t that hurt?”

“I’ve been doing it for years now.”

I winced at the thought of tucking and gluing myself like that. “How about when you get hard.”

She smiled at me. “That doesn’t happen anymore. The female hormones I’m taking have side effects.”

While I’ve seen the afternoon talksploytation shows on TV featuring transsexuals and even read up a little bit about them online, I never really thought about them all that much.

“When did you know?”

“That I wanted to be a girl?” She paused for a second to rinse out the razor she was working with. “I guess pretty much always. I mean I didn’t really understand anything until it was almost too late.”

Giving her a quizzical look, she explained further. “I was fourteen and desperately in love with two of my three best friends. I thought I was just gay. I knew I was different for a long time before that. I just didn’t know how. Then you went with Stacy O’Keefe to homecoming our sophomore year. I saw you two dancing and I wanted so much to be in her place, dancing with you.”  Michelle looked away with a wistful smile. “That’s when it hit me. I didn’t just want to be in her place. I wanted to be her. I wanted her body, her breasts, her long legs and thin waist. I want to wear that horrible lavender chiffon dress she was wearing.”

That was the first time that Michelle met my eyes, for the briefest of seconds. “I wanted to be a real girl so that you would dance with me. A week later I did a lot of research and found out how to acquire certain drugs that would stop my male body from developing any further than it had.”

I looked her over from head to toe. There was absolutely no way anyone would mistake her for anything but a pretty girl. “I’d say mission accomplished.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Michelle,” I groaned.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t help it. It’s how I see you. It’s how I want to see you. I’ll stop. I’ll try harder.”

Leaning toward her, I nudged her chin up to see her eyes going glassy. “Why does it mean so much to you?”

She sniffled a little before trying to explain. “When I am owned, it’s like a huge weight is lifted off my shoulders. The only thing I am concerned about is my master and his pleasure. Cleaning house, cooking, making sure he doesn’t have to worry about anything at home. That’s my job, my life. He provides for me and makes sure that I am in good health. Real life and real troubles go away and my world revolves around him.  It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

She looked back down and finished the fine hairs on the top of my foot.

“Was your life so bad that you had to hide away like that?”

I got a shrug in response. “I was interested in the lifestyle at first. I didn’t just jump into slavery. But the more I learned about it, the more I loved what I was doing. When I finally made the decision to go twenty-four-seven, I didn’t look back.”

Michelle rinsed my foot and the dried it before applying more lotion.

“Okay, last question for now.”

She looked up expectantly.

“You said you were in love with two of your best friends. I am taking it from your mentioning the dance and Stacy O’Keefe that I was one of them.” She nodded. “Who was the other?”

“Wayne.” This time she did blush a little.

“So I’ve got competition?”

Her smile split wide and bright at the implication. “Nope. We didn’t work out so well.”

I blinked in shock. “You and Wayne?”

She nodded. “When I was still Kevin. Just once. He took my virginity when we went camping in November, our junior year.”

I couldn’t help it. My mouth dropped wide open. I slapped my forehead. “Sometimes I amaze myself at my ability to go through life with blinders on. That’s why he has a ‘roommate’.” I threw up air quotes for emphasis. “Hold on… why didn’t it work out if…”

“Wayne prefers to be a bottom. With the pills I was taking, well, I couldn’t really keep it up at the time. And I’m about as bottom as a girl can get.”

This I understood. Top and bottom, pretty much self explanatory, giver and receiver, respectively. “Okay, well, that makes sense I suppose.”

Now that Michelle had totally finished with her shave-job of my body, she knelt between my legs and gazed hopefully up at me. “May I occasionally call you master?”

How far the moral have fallen. When I looked down at her eyes, I knew I couldn’t deny her something as simple as a nickname for me, even if it was abhorrent to me, as long it made her happy. A wispy thought flickered in my head as to who was actually the master and slave in our odd relationship. I’d found myself doing and saying things that would have never occurred to me before, all because of a friend in need who was becoming more important to me with each passing hour.

“In private only. Never in public without permission.” I barely got that out before she bounced up and hugged me tight around my neck. “Oh, thank you, Master.” I was rewarded with a dozen kisses all over my face and another hug before she pulled back gazing longingly at my lips.

She licked hers and I watched as her breasts actually heaved. I know, romance novel cliché, but there you go.

Bringing my hand up behind her head, I let my fingers sift through her soft hair and pulled her lips to mine.


Well into the night, Michelle showed me how having smooth skin was a bonus. It wasn’t until late the next morning that I awoke alone in bed that I knew that I was totally and irrevocably screwed. Just two nights in my bed and I realized I was addicted to her. My once male friend choosing to forgo a normal lifestyle in order to be with me.

It didn’t start out that way, I suppose, but it’s ending that way. Was it the sex? Had it just been too long and now that I had a willing, or better yet an eager partner, I had given in and now participated in her unhealthy fantasy life?

My brain argued each and every point I made. Who’s to say what’s normal? I had sex, well close enough, with a guy. I was gay. That was quickly countered with, ‘If she’s a guy then I’m Stephen King.’

Perhaps, if I make sure she gets herself involved with some therapy, then I could justify having the thoughts that were no more alien to me. Maybe I should join her.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and listened intently as I heard the vacuum cleaner off in the distance.


After my morning routine, I donned only my bathrobe and made my way through the house to find Michelle cleaning away in my office with the most wonderful attitude about her. She seemed genuinely happy. This wasn’t an act, because she didn’t even know I was there. I had half of my silly fantasy being played out for me at the moment and I didn’t want to break the spell. She moved back and forth throughout that room, vacuuming away, in the nude. No heels. Maybe next time.

It wasn’t until I saw her click the machine off before I realized that she had spied me. Bouncing over to me, with the exuberance of a pre-teen in the body of a adult, she hugged me.

“Good morning, Master. Isn’t it a beautiful morning?”

She pulled back and I looked at how radiant she appeared. “It is indeed.” I kissed her and all thoughts of confusion seemed to leave my mind. Maybe this is exactly what I wanted. Maybe Michelle was exactly who I wanted. “You know if you keep not dressing like this, I’ll never get any work done.”

Her eyes sparkled with merriment.  “I could always go out and get that French maid’s uniform that you were admiring at Fredrick’s yesterday. Some five inch pumps to go with it, maybe?”

I felt her hand find its way through an opening in my robe to something that was poking her in the stomach. “Would you like that, Master? I could dress up how ever you want. We could do anything that you want.”

My eyes closed in response to her touch, the hypnotizing sound of her voice, the feel of her lips at my neck. The robe opened and Michelle rubbed her smooth body against mine as she worked her was down and I felt her mouth on me once again. This time it was different. It was daylight and there were no covers. The office was well lit and she was kneeling before me with her mouth full of me.

I opened my eyes and looked down. Her stare burned into me. She finally met my eyes again and it was enough to leave its presence felt deep within before she broke away and concentrated on pleasuring me.


I set the phone down after the conversation with my accountant. Michelle was officially added to the payroll as my personal assistant, an account would be set up in her name for her checks go to. I had a strong suspicion that she would refuse if given the choice, but this way if something were to happen to me, she wouldn’t be penniless, having to rely on others for her well being.

Once I found her original psychiatrist’s name, amongst her medical records, I set up an appointment for a few sessions. It was obvious that I was becoming wrapped around her finger already and I desperately wanted someone impartial to see if there was a way for her to become a little more independent. Years of being a literal slave had to have done some serious psychological damage to her, which I wasn’t equipped or qualified to handle in the least.

Lastly was an appointment with her doctor. If Michelle wanted to become a woman then I would see that it happen. She suffered enough in her life not to have what she truly desired.

A light knock came at the door before it opened. “Master, your lunch is ready.”

I really wish she would wear something. Constantly seeing her nude was making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything beyond, ‘wow’. “Thank you, Michelle. You are joining me at the table this time, I hope?”

Her head dropped a little, with a simple smile. “Yes, Master.”

Rising from the chair behind my desk I crossed the floor and gave her a kiss on her forehead. At breakfast, I had to stop her from eat her breakfast from a plate on the floor beside me which didn’t include any utensils whatsoever. The depths of human depravity amazed me sometimes. It was pitiful watching her mildly frustrated at eating with a fork and knife.

There were some things that I would be willing to bend on, like the nickname of Master, but eating off of the floor was unacceptable. Michelle would become human again if it killed me.


“I’ve made appointments with your old psychologist and current doctor. I want you to go ahead and finish up what you started if that’s what you want.”

She stopped in mid bite, halting her fork in the air halfway to her mouth. “Do you mean the SRS, Master?”

I nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

She set her fork down and a strange look came over her face. “It’s is, almost more than anything.”

Looking down at my plate, I became a little sheepish. “Well then. That’s decided.”

The next thing I knew, Michelle was crawling into my lap, laying her head on my shoulder. It still surprised me how small she was.

“Thank you, Master. Thank you so much.” She sniffled, and then after a few seconds started sobbing.

Having had enough of this I picked her up, as I stood, which was with little effort. Carrying her to the living room, I sat in the recliner and gently rocked her in my arms while she let go with whatever ghosts were haunting her.

We both nodded off after a short time, and I was awakened once again by her fondling me. I smiled and shook my head. “Is that all you think about?”

Michelle giggled. “All I think about is your pleasure.”

Capturing her lips with my own, I gave her a deep kiss. “You can think about your own pleasure once in a while, you know.” I looked down her body for a moment. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t… I can’t have orgasms anymore.”

That sounded really off to me. “Seriously? I thought that transsexuals could still…”

She shrugged. “I guess, but I haven’t had one in a couple of years.”

My eyes went doubtful. “Have you tried? Did your previous master even touch you or were you only for his pleasure?”

She frowned and lowered her head. “When I started getting significantly smaller, he lost interest. I’ve been a house slave for the last couple of years. He had another that satisfied him in bed.”

I couldn’t believe it. There was no way that… I mean, she was… Jesus, I can’t even think in complete sentences anymore.

“Well, we’re going to change that.” I swallowed, a little nervously at where my thoughts were leading me. “Can you, um, free yourself down there?”

Michelle’s eyes widened. “Master, you don’t have to do that. There are other ways.”

“Other ways.” I pondered that thought for all of two seconds before figuring out what she was talking about. “Oh, you mean back there.”

Michelle smirked a little and nodded. “And my nipples are very sensitive too. The last time I achieved orgasm was that way. I’ve tried using a dildo while I masturbated, several times, but that didn’t work. That’s why I don’t think it’s possible anymore.”

Frank talk about sex, outside of boys being boys, always embarrassed me, but Michelle talked about it like the conversation topic was the dinner menu. So I lamely tried to be as frank. “Well, I want you to be equally as satisfied. Whatever you think might work. I’m willing to try my best.”

When I looked directly at her eyes I could see she was watching me, but looked away, not letting us connect. “Michelle, look at me.”

She brought her eyes up, but I could tell she was looking at my forehead or the bridge of my nose, but never directly in my eyes. “No, I mean look at me, at my eyes.”

Finally focusing on me, I sighed. “I always want to see your eyes. They’re very pretty.”

“Thank you, Master,” she whispered.

Running my hand down the outside of her thigh, I enjoyed the padding of her hip for a moment. “Now, why don’t you show me how I can make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

She nodded. “I’ll need to go cleanse myself first, unless you’d like…”

Oh eww. “No, go right ahead and cleanse away. Um, anything I can do in the meantime?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Are you sure this is what you want to do, Master? I know how you feel about my previous lifestyle, but there are certain things that turn me on that you might not like.”

I braced myself for the worst. “Such as?”

Michelle stood and held out her hand for me. Once I was up, she led me upstairs to her unused bedroom and the suitcase sitting on the bare dresser.

“My previous master was very conscious about assigning toys to each slave. So when he sold me, he wanted me to take the ones that were used on me. He would buy new ones for any new slaves he bought in the future.”

Having seen the fetishes that Michelle had been train in, I was afraid to even look.

“I’ve used all of these a number of different times. If it would please you, then choose any that you would like to try with me.” She unzipped the suitcase and opened it. After moving a few things aside she withdrew one of those old fashioned enema kits and smiled up at me. “This will take me about fifteen to twenty minutes, Master.”

Reaching up on the balls of her feet she kissed my cheek and smiled at me before disappearing to the hallway and into the bathroom next door.

It was like a suitcase full of sex. There were some things I’d never seen before and didn’t have a clue as to their purpose, while other things were self-explanatory. The phallic shaped devises were obviously used for penetration, but some of them were oddly shaped, curved and short, long and bumpy, thin at the tip and extremely wide at the bottom.

I shook my head at the variety.

Then there were the restraints. Cuffs of different sizes, leather harnesses that boggled my mind. A handball with a single strap coming out from either side. Hey, a paddle; I know how to use that! Although the thought of hitting Michelle didn’t do anything for me, in fact if anything, it would have the opposite effect of turning me on.

With a swallow of resolution, I picked up the suitcase and brought it over to the bed so I could spread out the toys by category. Don’t ask. Okay, I’m a little anal, and considering what I’m about to do to Michelle, that’s probably a good thing.

It took the rest of the time she spent in the bathroom for me to organize everything properly before she joined me in the bedroom. She seemed a little surprised at what I was doing.

“I wanted to …”

Michelle set her hand on my arm and gripped it lightly. “It’s alright, Master. I understand.” She looked over what I had done and saw the pattern. “I see the anal toys are here, some of the restrains are there, the nipple toys are there. What’s this pile?”

I smirked and almost laughed at myself. “Those are the ones I didn’t know.”

She raised her head back and smiled. “I understand. Well, Master, let me show you.”

She picked up a couple of handfuls of leather harness and unfolded it. The smile on her face was naughty, like she knew something I didn’t know, which was obvious. Once she had it unfolded, she stepped into the harness and brought it up over her hips and through her arms.

Oh! Her torso was crisscrossed with leather straps now. She did up the clasp at her neck and centered two silver rings over her nipples so that they were proudly displayed. “Do you like this, Master?”

Truth? Oh yeah. It was like something out of a magazine.

Her eyes dropped to my obvious erection tenting my robe.

“I guess you do.” She picked up a large silver J with a ring on the end. “This is an anal hook. The curved end goes inside me and you would tie off the long end in my hair. I’d have to braid it first.” My eyes widened in confusion and she set it back down. “Maybe some other time.”

“This,” she picked up a leather sheath of some sort with straps on the open side. “Is an arm binder.” She turned around and clasped her hand together in back of her. “Just slide it up my arms.”

I took the thing and did as she instructed. “That’s good. Now feed the straps around and secure them to… yes, perfect.”

That looked like it hurt having her elbows virtually touching. “That doesn’t bother you?”

She turned around. Having her arms secured like that made her breasts stick out and her nipples were very hard. “No, Master. This is one of my favorites.”

I shrugged a little. “Okay.” After taking it back off of her she set it aside.

“One last thing if you don’t mind a whole lot?”

Well, in for a penny and all that. “What’s that?”

Michelle gestured to the bed. “That black ball with the straps. It goes in my mouth and secures behind my head.”

I blinked. Okay. “Um, how will you tell me what to do?’

Without any accusations, she asked, “Master have you ever made love to a woman before.”

“Yes,” I replied dryly.

“Same thing, but with me, you can be a little rough. Since I’ll be gagged and helpless so that you can satisfy your every whim, I can’t use a safe word. So if I shake my head back and forth really hard that means I need to stop because I’m hurt or you are pushing me too far.”

“Are you sure about all of this. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Michelle closed into me and kissed my chest. “Master, I want you to hurt me a little. I want you to pull my hair and pinch my nipples until I scream. I want your hard cock in my tight little ass. Paddle me if you like.”

I cupped her face and saw how she was looking up at me, with all the trust in the world behind her eyes. “Do we need all of this?”

“It’s the only way I know how to orgasm now, Master. If that is what you’d like. If it is your pleasure then take all of it off and I will submit to whatever you want me to, plain vanilla if you prefer. I know I cannot orgasm if at the bare minimum these items are used. I still might not be able, but at least I will have tried the best way I know how.”

I bent down a little and grabbed her face for a soul searing kiss. We stood there for minutes until I heard her make little mewing noises in my mouth. Backing away, I looked at her wet lips and her chest heaving with rapid breaths, so I grabbed the gag and wedged it in her mouth. I heard her sigh with relief when I fastened the buckle behind her neck.

She led the way into the bedroom and I spotted a couple of new additions on the nightstand. A couple of towels and a jar of something, probably some lubrication of some type. She won’t be the first person I’ve done this to. I knew at least that much.

Michelle started to get up on the bed, but I stopped her. I wasn’t about to just jump in and plow away. It was a wonder she couldn’t have an orgasm if that was what she was used to.

A little foreplay was in order. Since her mouth was currently occupied, I started at her neck, tracing kisses and nibbles along both sides. The light scent of leather entered my nose when I moved down to lick at her protruding nipples.

She moaned a little behind her gag when I bit down slightly on one and tweaked the other between my thumb and middle finger. My lips made a seal around that same nipple and I sucked on it until her areola was swollen through the steel that circled it. Moving to the other I teased her and bit down a little harder this time.

Michelle’s breathing increased and she was almost constantly moaning and writhing under my hands and mouth.


Without thinking twice, she dropped to the bed and looked at me under half closed eyes. “Spread your legs.”

I grabbed a hold of her knees and scooted her closer to me so that she was barely sitting on the bed. I closed down my mind and gave her attention between her legs. I bit along her thighs and then followed that with my tongue, soothing the light red marks I was giving her.

Once I was where I normally was at this point with a woman, I inspected exactly how she accomplished the ‘hiding penis trick’. Ahhh, that’s how. If I looked very carefully I could see the very tip trying to poke out where a genetic woman’s entry hole would be. The rest was secured with the surrounding skin. Very ingenious. So I gave it a lick.

That brought a whole different sound from Michelle’s mouth. Deep and raw was the noise that she emitted. I looked up at her and her eyes were wet with unshed tears.

“Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head slightly.

I smiled. “Did that feel good?”

This time her head nodded quickly.

“Would you like me to do it again?”

Tears fell from her eyes, falling down her face when she nodded a second time. I really hated that gag. So, I reached up and unbuckled it, pulling it from her mouth.

Michelle worked her jaw for a second. “Master, what’s wrong?”

“No gag. I want to be able to hear you. I want to know exactly makes you feel good.” She pursed her lips for a second. “And I want to kiss you.”

I ate hungrily at her lips as I ran my fingers through her hair, pulling her to me.

“Master,” she whined.

“Michelle hush. Do you want to please me?”

She nodded.

“Then listen to me. If I’m going to eat your pussy properly then I need you laying down.”

Her eyes widened and she giggled a little at my language.

“You can keep the harness on if you like. However, I want you… wanting, for our fun right now.”


I put a finger to her lips. “When you fully become a woman, do you want me to lick you down there? Would you like it if I spent some time rubbing your clit and fingering you until you squirm and beg me to fuck you?”

While I was saying this I was caressing her breast, but at the end I pinched her rather hard.

“Oh god, yes!”

I kissed her again. “Then let me give you a preview of what it’s going to be like.”

Easing her back, I kissed her again. “Just relax and think about how much fun it’s going to be after you are complete?”

I didn’t waste much time going back over what I did before, but I did spend a few seconds on her breasts before kneeling between her thighs again. She didn’t smell like a girl would, which was a plus at the moment, because she just smelled fresh and when I gave her a long lick from back to front it just tasted like skin, nothing funky.

Not that I’m a prude or anything, obviously, but sometimes a girl didn’t take care of herself like she should. Michelle was quite different in that regard.

The one thing I’d have to say about this particular arrangement was that everything was in reverse. The sensitive nub was in the rear of her slit, which actually made teasing her that much easier.

This time I was able to clearly hear her as she groaned at my agile tongue. I wondered if this was a transsexual thing, that maybe the skin between her legs was extra sensitive or something. From my own experience I know that I like having it licked, but it didn’t bowl me over like it’s making Michelle sound.

I gave extra special attention to the bottom of her slit because I knew that was probably the most sensitive area. She was right, she never got hard, but I’m here to testify that she was able to produce some sort of fluid, probably precum.

“God, Master, I need you inside me, please!”

Who am I to deny the wishes of my lady?

When I pulled back I grinned at her. “Like that did you?”

She scrambled for the jar of lubrication, fingering a big glob and reaching behind her to apply it. Her eyes fluttered for a few seconds at the attention to herself. The remains of the lube was spread over my hard cock. Then she was up on all fours like a flash, staring at me with a pleading look.

I shook my head. “Nuh-uh. On your back. Trust me.” I swear the girl had gymnastic talent. She flipped around and the bed bounced at the speed. A second later I was between her thighs again positioning myself at her entrance.

She wasn’t as tight as I thought she would be, which would have been like a fist, but she was more than perfect for what we had in mind. Slowly I eased into her, and I watched the expression on her face as a guide, never letting her wince once.

Michelle’s eye were closed as she was taking in the sensory input of the whole experience. Her jaw worked open and pulsed a few times wider and wider until I was all the way inside her.

”Michelle, look at me.” Her eyes snapped open and she stared at me solid and strong. “How do you feel?”

Her legs closed on me and rose up while she smiled. “Full.”

This entry was posted on Thursday, May 13th, 2010 at 14:57 and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

5 Responses to “The Assistant (Last Unfinished story, for now)”

  1. stacy
    21:23 on May 14th, 2010

    Its hard to believe that even your throw aways are better than a lot of stuff posted around the story sites. Thank you for your efrforts.

  2. Lilith Langtree
    06:45 on May 15th, 2010

    Thank you, Stacy. It’s a sad time when I can agree with you on that and not feel like I’m boasting or stroking my own ego. There have been some good stories recently, but for the most part I’ll I’ve been seeing are stories about topics that don’t interest me or pure unadulterated crap.

    Well, people have to start somewhere. I used to suck just as bad, once upon a time.

  3. christelle
    18:54 on May 18th, 2010

    I’m not very good at analyzing writing styles, so I can’t understand what you hate so much about that story. True, it didn’t get me hot and bothered like certain scenes from EDIRODDIAA or the Center, but I still liked it. I can’t quite put it into words, but there’s something about your writing that’s downright addictive.

    Thanks for sharing Lilith ^_^

  4. Joy Anne Phillip
    20:05 on May 29th, 2010

    OMG I’m horny now. You BAD woman….

    I LOVE this story. If no one else wants, I’ll take it to finish. It’s sooo GOOD!

  5. Lilith Langtree
    21:27 on May 29th, 2010

    Go right ahead, Joy. It’s been up here for a while and no interest from other parties has been shown. If you want to know a few things/scenes I was going to put in there that you might or might not want to include then email me.