Jemima's Tale Pt. 03

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Jemima learns how to submit to her new boyfriend's will...
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Part 3 of the 7 part series

Updated 06/11/2023
Created 05/24/2014
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jemimaheart
jemimaheart
31 Followers

Part 1 - Jemima's First Love

They say you never truly forget your first lover.

Looking back, the time that I spent as Jemima, in my very first sexual relationship with another man, was undoubtedly the most intense and pleasurable time of my life. How could it have been otherwise, when for as long as I could remember, a good proportion of my waking thoughts had dwelled on what it would be like to dress up and play the female for a strong, handsome boyfriend?

As I got to know Steve a little better, it became apparent that, for me, there were a few aspects of our relationship that I would have liked to know more about - no major secrets, or anything like that - but certain unspoken questions that I was dying to have the answers to.

I knew that he had married early and, in the way that these things go sometimes, eventually realised that sexually he needed something more - although he wasn't quite sure what. After the traditional messy divorce and experimentation in the gay scene, Steve found that although having sex with men was pleasurable, once the initial excitement had waned, it wasn't totally satisfying either.

Enter the internet - and discovering the world of transvestites and she-males had simply blown his mind; he fantasied about being in bed with someone who blended the sexual intensity of a man with certain feminine qualities that he found arousing... Our accidental "first encounter', he had told me, had given him the perfect opportunity to explore "the best of both worlds", as he put it... I remember blushing when he'd said that fucking me had been everything he'd imagined it might be...

I knew that I was more communicative and creative than Steve, although he was much more practical and confident. I had gone through more formal education, but he had more life-experience, so we were pretty evenly matched. It was when it came down to talking about sex that I noticed a difference between us. Ironically, I suppose I was like the classic example of a girl wanting her boyfriend to express his feelings more, but in my case I really wanted him to reassure me that he was happy with our sex-life, to tell me what I could do to make it even better or what he thought or fantasied about when we made love.

I realised that the pattern of our encounters had been established by the way we had initially met - I was girly, sexy Jemima for him, in my lingerie and outfits, and that gave him the easy way out - a ready-made role as the lustful male helpless to resist my feminine wiles. He could get by quite happily without communicating anything much about his inner self. This was fair enough as far as it went - after all, I REALLY loved being a prick-tease - but was that the only dimension to our sexual identities? I was sure it wasn't.

When it actually came down to it I never dared ask Steve about this stuff out right - I guess I was a bit too afraid of the answers I might get - so I kept it at the back of my mind, content with what had settled into a two-or-three-times-a-week routine of being regularly fucked.

Then, on one of our meetings, something took place that made me look at my staid new boyfriend in a slightly new light...

Part 2 - New Games for Jemima

Coming up to his 39th birthday (25th of May - a Taurean/Gemini cusp, which should give you a clue!) - I half-jokingly suggested that for a birthday treat, I would indulge his wildest/silliest dreams in one incredible night of passion.

Lying next to him one night, after a particularly satisfying session of lovemaking, I took advantage of his post-orgasmic state of relaxation and, amidst a fair amount of giggling, told him that if he wrote down everything he wanted in a special letter of instructions - how he wanted me to dress, some scene we could act out, any special things we might do - it would really be a turn on for me to set it up for him. I felt excited and quite clever at my ingenuity - in effect, I had neatly given him permission to act out his deepest fantasies - on me!

The designated Saturday night arrived. After a leisurely day, I got myself a glass of white wine, retrieved the all-important parcel from the drawer where it had been smouldering away all day, and lay on my bed to open it.

I was trying not to be, but I was actually quite nervous. I knew by now that Steve had no real harm in him, but he could be quite a 'bloke' sometimes - not exactly aggressive, but when he felt like it, he could stubbornly insist on getting what he wanted. All week I had tried to avoid thinking about the more extreme scenarios that I could be subjected to - depraved visions of me kneeling before him with his piss running down my face... or bent over the back of the sofa with his fist jammed into my rectum... or...

Quickly opening the brown-paper parcel, I pulled out: a sealed bag of clear plastic - my heart fluttered as I saw what looked like pink lingerie packed neatly inside; a small packet wrapped in pink tissue paper; two one-metre lengths of thick pink ribbon; a folded piece of A4 piece of paper.

Excitement building in my stomach, I unfolded the paper and started to read the typed instructions - it wasn't long before I found myself wondering just what I was letting myself in for with my new boyfriend...

Part 3 - Jemima gets Ready for her Man

It took me most of the afternoon to get ready.

I kitted my bedroom out with soft candlelight, incense and music, laid the contents of my package out on the bed, then when everything was assembled and ready, I retreated to the bathroom and bathed, shaved and powdered myself until I was clean and baby-smooth all over.

I dried my hair, trimmed my fringe a little and with a little gel, brushed and obeying my instructions, styled it long so that it hung down to my shoulders, full and silky.

I returned to the bedroom to examine what my boyfriend had bought for me.

First, I carefully unwrapped the tissue paper bundle and what looked like two long diamante earrings attached to overlarge gold clasps revealed themselves to my curious gaze. Then it hit me - my lover had sent me a beautiful pair of nipple-clips to wear for him!

Already feeling quite excited, I quickly ripped open the bag of lingerie and emptied the contents out onto the bed: a gorgeous girly-pink satin nightie; matching full satin panties and a packet of luxurious hold-up stockings in pure - white.

There seemed to be a lot of straps for such a short nightie, but it was only on untangling it and holding it up against me that I finally realised what exactly was going on - it was topless! The delicate frilled shoulder straps had been designed to separate into two above each breast, carried on down around each side to meet again under the cunningly underwired bustline where the skirt began. Effectively both breasts were left nicely bared and lifted for any appreciative onlookers... I knew that one appreciative onlooker in particular was ensuring that there was no chance he would miss out on seeing my new jewellery...

Then it was time for Jemima to get dressed!

As usual, I opened the packet of stockings first, lingering over the familiar ritual of inserting my toes, pulling the sheer, stretching, mesh up and around my legs, the elastic tops holding them snug around my upper thighs. My legs felt amazing in the clinging white nylon, like they were always meant to be this smooth and alive. I rubbed my thighs together just to enjoy the familiar smooth buzz of nylon and the enhanced feeling of skin against skin. My usual hard-on appeared immediately and I indulged it with a few loving strokes while admiring my legs in the wardrobe mirror.

I interrupted my normal routine, desperate to try out my strange new gifts. My nipples were already rock hard at the mere thought of being adorned with the jewelled clasps, so clipping them on was easy. Soon a two-inch long enamelled column dangled freely from the centre of each breast; it wasn't painful, as such, but quite firm and definately intense - arousingly so! I experimented with making them swing from side to side, and an exquisite feeling of utter shamelessness flooded through me - my heart was already beating ften to the dozen at the thought of wearing these with the topless nightie - I just couldn't believe that I was going to let someone see me in this state.

The panties came next, pulled up tight, smooth and clingy over my bum. I noticed with pleasure that they were trimmed at waist and legs with the same frilly edging as the nightie...

I slid the soft satin nightdress over my head. Wow! The underwire worked its magic, and I became very aware that my titties, with their exquisitely sensitive tips, were now protruding full and round through their frilly pink harness of straps. Unable to stop myself, I slid my fingers up beneath the clips and caressed my poor, squeezed, nipples until a wave of sudden pleasure made me quickly stop before I really got turned on...

Another sip of wine to calm down and it was time for make-up - gold eyeshadow, full, big lashes and luscious pastel-pink lips. Normally, I loved to have intense, vibrant colours on my fingernails, but tonight my instructions dictated that I would be wearing clear nail varnish on my fingers. I thought that, although not what I would have chosen, it actually gave my nails a young, more natural look.

Steve had not specified footwear, so for my feet I chose my little white three-inch heels, with slender ankle straps that fastened with delicate gold buckles.

I decided to wear my little gold heart earrings, complementing the items my lover had provided and making me feel even more attractive and feminine.

Finally I slipped on the heels and gave a twirl in the mirror - overall, it seemed my boyfriend wanted to enjoy me dressed as: quite young, definately girly and extremely available... Below the blatent sexual display of my breasts, the spread of the frilled skirt emphasised my trim waist and was short enough to nicely show off my pert, pantied, bum.

I was running late, so hurriedly, I tidied the debris away and, with nervous anticipation, moved to obey the rest of my boyfriend's instructions.

Taking the two long lengths of ribbon, I stood at the end of the bed. With a last check in the mirror, I reached down and efficiently tied my ankles together - alternately winding one of the ribbons round each stockinged ankle, above the delicate white straps of my shoes, and securing it firmly.

The second ribbon was tied round my left wrist. Placing both hands behind my back, as instructed, I wound my right wrist round the rest of the ribbon until my hands were tightly tied together in the small of my back.

Ankles and wrists tied, I completed the manoeuvre by kneeling, as instructed, upright on the floor at the edge of the bed. Looking over in the mirror I could just see a glimpse of Jemima, tied and helpless in her topless baby-doll nightie - looking excited but nervous as she awaits the pleasure of her new master...

Part 4 - Jemima Learns to Submit

I hear the door downstairs open and close and I know that he has come for me. I hear the usual sounds of my boyfriend making his way up the stairs, but am taken aback as his shape appears in the doorway, looking down at me kneeling there ready for him.

Disconcerted, I take in my lovers unfamiliar new appearance, from top to bottom: Mirror shades prevent me from seeing his blue-green eyes, and for some reason, rather than seem laughable, they cause my heart to start pounding fast beneath my nightie; - thin leather choker I have never seen before; - short black t-shirt showing his still-flat muscled stomach; - drab green canvas cargo pants; - my attention is drawn to his slick black leather gloves; - black doc martins complete the, slightly unnerving, definately different look.

I barely have time to register that he has dressed to emphasise that things will not be the same tonight, when he comes over to stand above me. My head is on a level with his taut midriff, and I can literally feel the tension building in the warm room. I look up at my masters face at all times, as his note instructed.

I feel very soft and vulnerable next to this strange man. He looks down and his hand comes up to hold me under the chin. I feel the thin leather against my skin and a shiver of anticipation passes through me. It really does seem very different to usual - for a moment I am lost in the distorted reflection of an unsure, but highly excited, Jemima in the silver shades - all trembling big lashes and luscious pink lips.

He reaches down behind me and finishes tying my wrists properly. I test them and feel that they are secure - I must ensure that I am a good girl tonight, so that I will be released later.

I am in a dream, kneeling obediently before this strange and powerful man. Helpless and vulnerable in my girlie frills, with breasts bared and hands tied behind my back, I have promised that I will let him do anything he desires to me...

Without saying a word, Steve's hands interrupt my thoughts, sliding his hands round my exposed breasts. Leather-gloved fingers follow the naked mounds of my flesh, tracing the outlines of the swinging clasps. I cannot help emitting a hiss of excitement as he fondles me, pulling and caressing my excited nipples until they are burning against my chest, twin flames throbbing wickedly in pleasure/pain beneath their new adornments.

My new master does not speak but I can tell he is pleased by my compliance. His hand presses between my shoulder blades, pushing me forwards onto the edge of the bed until my face and shoulders are resting against the soft pink coverlet.

A sharp slap on my bottom urges my hips up and forwards, then squatting down by my side, I feel him roughly slide his hand down the back of my panties. He pushes, spreading and separating my buttocks and I instinctively move my legs apart to help him gain access to me. I have absolutely no thought of resistance. Single-mindedly, fingers slide down my bottom crack and deftly probe the entrance to my body.

I am glad that, as instructed, I have carefully prepared myself and am slick with lubrication because, without any preamble, a gloved finger pushes straight inside me, bringing my head up off the bed with an audible gasp. My new master leans round to look me straight in the face. Through the impenetrable silver shades, his amused gaze impales me just as intimately as the insistent pressure of his finger in my bottom.

"You want it don't you?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

I swallow hard and nod, staring at the bedcovers in shame.

"Look at me, when I'm talking to you."

I drag my eyes back to the humiliating vision of myself in those mirror lenses. His voice is sterner now: "Say it!"

"Yes I want it..," I manage to reply.

He doesn't let it go, revelling in my embarrassment, "Say: I want your finger up me."

He is ruthless in my humiliation. Blushing furiously, I make myself repeat the words, "I want your finger up me..."

"Like this?"

"OhHH..." Now my anus is completely open to him.

"More?" His face is a blur in my vision, his finger pushes further inside.

"Uhh...oHHH!" I feel myself parting before him.

"Well?" Fully up inside me, leather-encased knuckles rest excitingly against my bottom cheeks.

I lean forward on my knees, holding my arse as high in the air as I can, my prick full and hard in my panties. "Uhh please!" I blurt out helplessly.

"I'll take that as a yes..." A second finger squeezes into me and I gasp at the added thickness and the glorious hollow ache inside that comes from being penetrated.

He finger-fucks me for a few moments, moving in and out, quite roughly. He is making it obvious that any stimulation I might derive from his actions would be merely co-incidental, nevertheless the movement from his hand causes the front of my frilly underwear to drag across the stiff head of my erection, adding to the swirl of pleasure building inside me, up inside my very core.

I am breathing hard now as his finger works inside me, my rear is on fire, my nipples are on fire from the ever-present clips - I am his plaything, his sexual slave and I love it - feeling myself being taken to the edge, starting to lose it...

Abruptly, his finger stops its marvellous movement, and I protest. "Please!"

"Would you like another finger?" he asks dangerously.

"Oh yes," I whisper quietly, ready to be utterly ravished by this stranger's strong, clever, fingers - ready for him to make me squirt my cream right into my lovely satin panties...

"Yes... I'm sure you would." He sounds amused. I cannot help closing my eyes as his finger abruptly withdraws from me. Tonight I am not here for my pleasure, but for his.

"Get up," orders my new master and wide-eyed - and not a little unnerved - I quickly obey.

I am already a complete wreck. Being treated like this is so unexpectedly, incredibly, erotic that I can hardly think straight - I had no idea that my new boyfriend could be like this, and I am shocked at the depth and immediacy of my own responses...

I struggled to my feet, finding it awkward with my hands behind my back and stand before him, breathing a little heavily.

Steve moves up close until his broad chest almost touches my tingling breasts. He even smells different to usual. Wondering, I tilt my head to look up at his face.

His lips meet mine in an instantly arousing, passionate kiss that really does take my breath away. It had previously become obvious to me that my lover was so much more sexually experienced than me and now, particularly as I am unable to see his eyes, I realise that I have been rendered completely awestruck by his confident, male, potency.

Helpless to resist, I lean into the strong, enfolding, arms, marvelling at the feeling of hard muscles against my bare skin. My sensitive breasts crush into his chest, exciting me in their emphasised femininity. When we are together like this, all my worries disappear and it all seems so simple: this man lets me be his girl, because for both of us equally, my responses to his masculine power heighten the enjoyment of our sexuality and lovemaking to fever pitch in a way that nothing else can...

His crotch rubs sensuously against my own, and I murmur my pleasure into his mouth, my prick once more growing large to meet his own expanding erection, his closeness allowing me to feel every detail of its impressive size and hardness.

Beneath my bound hands, leather-clad fingers run confidently over my bottom, "Such a lovely bum..." he whispers in a voice that brings my prick up even stiffer than ever. He knows that, tonight, my body is his to do with as he wants.

I am being opened up by his mouth, my lipstick smearing as our two tongues meet, tease, and excite each other. I become almost dizzy with sensation and sexual tension.

Without thinking I disengage from the kiss and begin to lower myself, as best I can, to the floor. Just like always with Steve, I am eager to make him want me by getting on my knees before his beautiful stiff cock and pleasing it in the best way I know how...

Part 5 - Jemima Gets it Wrong

Kneeling before him, I press my lips to the front of his trousers. His full erection is a solid bulge beneath the rough canvas and I know that I have to have it in my mouth. I gently touch the green material with the tip of my tongue. His hands come down to my head, but instead of offering encouragement, they hold me firm while he drags his hips back, away from my eager mouth.

His voice comes from above me: "What are you doing?"

In a momentary confusion, I am too excited to stop. The hold on my hair grows stronger.

The man above me is frowning. "Did I tell you to suck me?"

"No," I reply in a little voice, unsure now.

"Well?" He sounds angry.

My face blazing, I start to explain, "I didn't mean..."

jemimaheart
jemimaheart
31 Followers