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Seduced Into Panties! By THRONE (18 pages)
🕑 Added 2021-03-01 20:55:09 +0000 UTCSeduced Into Panties!
By THRONE
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
***DEVIN DICKIE NOTE***
All characters are OVER 18 years of AGE! This is a bullying fantasy and not real. The acts in the following written work are only consensual sexual choices and fantasy humiliation scenarios.
Bullying is NOT OKAY and If you or someone you know is being bullied, please alert the authorities.
Seduced Into Panties!
By THRONE
"Come on, sweetie," my girlfriend Lana cooed. "Just run your hands over my nightie. I know you'll love the way it feels."
Well, who was I to say 'no'? I mean, I'm short and my physique comes from being a bookworm, rather than an athlete. My one asset is a full head of unruly, light brown hair. I was still in shock from having Lana accept my offer for a cup of coffee, two months before. You know, she's some kind of sex-bomb/wet-dream, with
her sweet face, long golden hair, and swimsuit-model body. We had gone on several chaste dates and then she declared that I was her boyfriend. Who, me? Amazing. I didn't point out any of my deficiencies. I especially didn't mention that I have a small penis. Who wants to admit that they were the laughingstock of the locker room, back in high school? Besides, she wasn't in any rush to get intimate, and I lacked the confidence to push her. Instead, we spent many evenings at her apartment, cuddling on the sofa. I inevitably got wildly aroused and she always praised me for my restraint.
"You're not like other guys I've dated," she would say. "Big studs with their grabbing hands and hungry mouths."
She actually made me feel good that I wasn't having sex with her. I glowed with pride when I went home horny. My sore balls were somehow a mark of pride. Still, I was eager to take our relationship the rest of the way. So, when she invited me over to see a new nightie she had bought at that store in the mall, Veronica's Secret, I was thrilled. After getting all freshened up, I debated between pale yellow jockey shorts and sky-blue ones. I wanted something manly but not macho, if you can see the distinction. The last thing I wanted to convey was that I had anything in common with those guys she had dated previously.
When I arrived (in lime green underpants, as a compromise) she was wrapped in a thick robe that fell past her knees. I hoped that the sleepwear she'd mentioned was underneath. Lana poured us glasses of wine and we took our familiar places on the sofa.
"Thank you, Myron, for helping me get to this point, where I can share more with you. Until now, I wouldn't have been able to let you see me in such a sexy item as I'm wearing. I appreciate you understanding about those big hunks I went out with in the past. You can't imagine what it was like, to open some guy's pants..." She set her hand meaningfully on my thigh. "... and find a huge, virile cock. To breath in its masculine musk. And to fall under the spell of such a potent symbol of manhood. It was just awful to feel possessed that way."
"You have my sympathy," I said uncertainly. "But if it's easier not to talk about it, that's fine."
"No. I believe that telling you is the best thing for me. I finally have someone I can trust to listen without being critical. I've never shared all this before, about how a monster cock is too thick to get my fingers around. Or the way it mesmerizes me. And how good it is to slowly stroke it, up and down, up and down."
"I'm glad you can be so uninhibited around me, Lana." I cleared my throat. "But if it's painful to discuss any of this, I don't need to hear it."
"No, Myron. It's liberating. You're the first person I've confessed to about how drawn I was to those king-size, rigid poles, with heads that were even wider than the shafts. I just stared at them as I pumped each one, so slowly, enjoying the warmth and firmness. And when a drop of clear fluid would rise out of the slit on the end, it made me shiver all over."
"Okay. Sure. Still, I don't want you to upset yourself with those memories."
"There is a certain shame associated with all this. What girl wants to be turned into a total slut by the sight of an above average tool? To wonder what it would be like to have it in her mouth? To find herself licking her lips lasciviously at the guy attached to such a superior cock."
"It must have been... distracting."
"Oh, it was. I couldn't think of anything else. Lots of times it was in the backs of cars. Or in the apartment of some guy who I'd just met. Even right here, on this sofa. There were so many times that one of them laid back, right where you're sitting, and I got on my knees between his legs. Or else I'd slide down onto the carpet while he sat up with his feet on the floor. Can you visualize all that?"
"Yes. Vividly." I swallowed with difficulty.
"And I could never resist getting my lips around those fat roots. They filled my mouth to the limit. And their owners loved it when I got them deeper. It took a while, but I learned to control my gag reflex. Imagine having a fantastic cock like that down your throat, bobbing your head up and down on it, and hearing the guy moan with pleasure. Some of those blowjobs went on for like a half hour. I got addicted to the taste of cocks."
I nodded wordlessly and managed to croak out, "That's... fascinating."
"Making them spurt was always the highlight for me. Down my throat. All over my tongue. Wherever. I couldn't get enough of that tasty white cream." She paused and then asked, "I'm not boring you, am I?"
"No. Not at all. It's just..."
She sent an air kiss in my direction. "You're probably just too kind to tell me how repetitious that sounds, the same thing again and again, me with every supersized sausage I could find, drooling on them, licking, kissing them, lapping balls, giving knob-jobs, turning into a complete tramp the instant I saw one."
"It's all right," I told her shakily.
"Well, I won't bore you anymore right now." She stood up. "Let me show you this exciting nighty I found." She slowly untied the belt and opened her robe, letting it slide down her arms, to puddle on the floor. "How do you like it?"
I was breathless. Lana was a vision of sexual invitation. My hands itched to touch her. I had to remind myself to keep my tongue in my mouth.
"Why don't you touch it?" she invited with a seductive smile.
Then she uttered those lines I quoted at the beginning to my story.
Taking the satiny material between my quivering fingers, I ran my hands down it, from just below her breasts, to the hem at mid-thigh. It made me shudder with anticipation. My little dick
was throbbing. But then, without meaning to, I slid my fingers over her trim hips, feeling them through the material. Lana made a sound of distress and stepped back.
"Please, Myron," she requested with a hint of apology, "don't touch me. Just savor the sensation of what I'm wearing. Take it between your hands and rub your palms against each other. That's right. Just like that. Oh, this is so wonderful. And I can tell that you like having it against your skin. In fact, you'd probably like to have it against you all over. Hmmm?"
I got a mental picture of us lying side-by-side, with her pressing her body against mine. In my imagination I was naked. It would be incredibly erotic. And how could it not lead to sex? Even with her reluctance, born from those past experiences, and her wish not to lose control, she would still need to be satisfied.
So, I told Lana, "Yes, I would adore having that on my bare skin."
"I'm so glad. I thought you might think it was too much. I mean, you don't think that makes me kinky, do you?"
"Absolutely not."
"That's terrific. Somehow, I was worried that you wouldn't want to wear my nighty."
Wait. What? Did she say what I thought she said? Did my desirable girlfriend expect me to slip into her lingerie?
"Well," I began hesitantly, "it might not be..."
She cut me off with, "I understand. You don't want me to have to be naked in front of you. You're being sensitive toward my feelings. That's so considerate, Myron. But when I bought this one, I was thinking ahead, about how much fun it would be if you went along with my fantasy -- so I bought two of them."
"Two... um... the same?"
"Not exactly. Mine is peach and yours is bubblegum pink. We'll look so good together." She took my face between her hands. "I'm sure going to owe you something special after this, lover."
How could I disappoint her? And collecting whatever this brief detour from the path of normalcy earned me, would be well worth it. Besides, she had called me 'lover'. The implications of that word made my heart soar and my caution dissolve. I would let her see me in the nighty, shameful though that would be, and then we could move on to what I had been hoping for since we met.
She clapped her hands together like a little girl about to open a birthday gift. "Start to undress, dear. I'll go get it." She leaned forward to tell me confidentially, "I knew you would do it make me happy, so I already have it laid out on my bed. Be right back."
With mixed emotions, I stood and unbuttoned my shirt. By the time she returned, I was down to just those lime-green jockey shorts. Their tightness made it plain that I didn't have much to offer in the crotch.
Lana eyed the area of my shortcoming, smiled impishly, and declared, "That's just precious, Myron. You sure won't stretch out the panties."
My face grew warm and I was certain I was blushing. She watched closely as I lowered my last piece of clothing and stepped out of it.
She enthused, "This is just what I need. A dick that's too small to get me overexcited. It's such a relief not to have one of those uncontrollable mood-swings. You definitely won't have to worry about me grabbing you down there, handling you and making you moan, and fastening my mouth on there from some crazy compulsion. No, Myron. Whatever happens between us will be the result of affection and not lust."
"That's fine," I said weakly. Along with having tiny genitals, I'm also cursed with a near absence of body hair, including below my belly button. Wanting to cover up, I asked, "May I have the panties, please?"
"Oh, you're so good for me." She handed over an abbreviated triangle of the same material that both nighties were made from.
I held it in position so I could step into it, and then pulled it up my slender legs. As I wriggled to get it fully into place, she suggested that I tuck my male parts down and back, which I unhappily did. In the back, those panties had just the narrowest of thongs, which rode up between my buttocks. "This is even better than I hoped for. Now strut around for me, dearie. Wiggle your hips. Loosen up more. Hold your arms out to the sides, just a bit. And let me see those wrists go limp. Take smaller steps, honey. Put one foot
in front of the other. That's how to do it! You're doing so well, Myron. All my old issues have vanished."
To be polite, I said, "Thank you."
"You're welcome, Myron. But I can't call you that now, can I? How about... Myra? Does that work for you? I'm sure it does. Just sashay over here and I'll put your nightie on you. Bubblegum pink. Can you believe it?"
I could believe it, even though I didn't want to. When I was directly in front of her, so close that her perfume assailed my senses, she stopped me. Next, Lana got the lightweight garment over my head and let it slither down my body. I couldn't deny that it felt sexy. The concerns I still had were put on hold when she smoothed the nighty over my chest, making its silkiness tease my nipples. I panted a few times and my dick got hard inside the panties. She playfully raised the front of what I was wearing. I'm sure she suspected that I was having that reaction.
"Look." She was beaming. "You're making the prettiest little bump down there. Oh, Myra, it's so nice not to be facing another killer cock. It would spoil the mood if I couldn't stop myself from falling to my knees and sucking you off. I hate to admit it, but I used my mouth like some kind of runaway pump. You can be thankful that you don't have to be put through that. With us, it's all about making connections." She gave me some more nipple manipulation, until I was shifting my feet around, unable to stand still. Then she stepped back to get a better look. "Let's see you put your hands on your hips, Myra. Now bend forward from the waist. Oh! Hold that pose. I have to get some pictures. Just for
me. I won't post them online," she assured me, then gave a wink that called her words into question.
I stayed frozen in that mortifying posture. She returned with her phone. Lana recorded my discomfort from several angles. She had me straighten up, look back over my shoulder, and stick my tongue out like a brat. What followed was a non-stop photo session, with me posing with chairs, a heart-shaped pillow, two plush unicorns, and a clear plastic umbrella. By the end I was utterly humiliated, yet still in the mood for physical love. Lana appeared ready for some body-on-body action as well. She took me by the hand.
"Let's visit the bedroom," she suggested in a throaty voice.
All I could say was, "Yes, please." My words came out high and thin. She told me to keep speaking that way.
Once we were by her bed, she ran her fingers all over me, at the same time congratulating me for not being one of those tall, powerful brutes she was used to. Lana slipped out of her panties. She gave me another round of nipple fingering that left me nearly cross-eyed. Then she laid back on the bed and spread her legs. The center of her femininity peeked out from under the bottom edge of her nightie.
"Come on, Myra," she purred. "Get down there and kiss the insides of my thighs. I would love for you to do that."
It was one more delay before the main act, but it was also one step closer. I put myself where she wanted me and pressed my lips
against the softness of her flesh. I couldn't avoid breathing in the slightly musky scent of her juncture.
"This is so adventurous." Her voice was as soft and light as I was keeping mine. "You know how to use your mouth on a girl, between her legs, don't you, Myra?"
"I've seen videos of it." Why did I have to sound that way, my voice so girly? And why had I just admitted to watching smut?
She said, "I guess your sex life is mainly dirty videos. You've never gone all the way, have you, Myra? I mean, how could you, with such a wee little wee-wee."
As much as I didn't want to admit that, I confessed, "I haven't... done it. Not until now."
Lana chuckled. "Well, let's not get carried away, my sweet virgin. Since I'm the one with so much experience, it should be me who decides what games we play. Right?"
"I guess so," I offered timidly.
"Then how about if, with both of us in our nighties, we make love like two lesbians? You get your mouth busy on my pussy, Myra, and I'll tell you how I like it done. This will be such a change from all those wild stallions, shoving their horse-cocks into me and slamming away until I have orgasm after orgasm. Guys like that don't eat twat. Start with a few kisses, pretty girl. Don't be shy. I just know you're going to learn to be an expert at dining at the 'Y'."
With nothing on except that pink nighty and panties, in the bed of the female I desired to the point of mania, and having already given in to her every wish, what else could I do? I kissed tenderly at first, gradually building up to licking and lapping and probing.
I sucked her clitoris, which was larger than I had expected. She didn't have to give much advice. Mostly, she made me slow down, every time a climax was approaching. When those did arrive, they were animated and loud, followed by praise that made me want to do more of the same, because it appeared to be the only way to hold onto her. Losing Lana, even after what she was putting me through, wasn't an option. Her love-talk encouraged that attitude. Lana made it clear that my small dick made intercourse out of the question, and that she wasn't even going to reciprocate with oral attentions. No, I would be Myra, her pussy worshipper, left sexually unfulfilled, and grateful for whatever small favors she granted me.
After she was thoroughly sated, Lana ordered me not to wash my face or rinse my mouth. She made me undress and directed me to her dresser's middle drawer, from which I had to take a filmy harem-girl outfit. The top left my tummy bare, the pants were not accompanied by panties, and both parts were transparent.
"Now that we're girlfriends," she declared, "let's play beauty-shop. Like two girly lovers having fun together. I can't wait to see you with make-up on. And I'm sure I can do something cute with that hair. The way it covers your ears and the back of your neck, that gives me something to work with."
"Yes, Lana," I said in my wispiest Myra voice.
She patted the side of my face, beyond where it had been smeared with her sexual secretions, and then led me to the chair at her vanity table. Soon, Lana had thinned my eyebrows and was busily making over my features with foundation, blush, eye products, and both lipstick and lip liner. She finished by creating a shadow under my lower lip, to make it appear fuller. Then she moved on to my hair, which was shortly turned into a mass of curls, and now covered my forehead. My reflection in the mirror was so feminine, the shape of my face altered, and my eyes and mouth as dramatic as a drag performer's. She thought for a moment before fetching large hoop earring and clipping them to my ears, with the promise of piercings to come later. The outfit was completed with spangled slippers that each had a pom-pom on the toe.
This time when she took pictures, she insisted that they had to be put online, and that no one would recognize me, so transformed. But then she added that there would have to be both before and after shots, with the former coming from our earlier session, when my face was still not changed.
"Well," she considered, "I'll only put on one of you without cosmetics. Or two or maybe three. And anyway, they'll be on a crossdresser page, so anyone going there likes to dress up, too. Or else they're attracted to femme boys like you." She got me on my feet and slapped my butt. "Be a good girl and I won't have to spank you."
Huh? Who had said anything about spanking? If that was a possible inclusion in her playtime, what else might she do to me? Where were the limits? Lana whipped up a quick meal, but made only enough for one. I had to serve it to her, pour white wine, and
stand off to the side while she ate. I was positioned where she could glance sideways and have a good view of me. She checked repeatedly, every time leering at what she had produced. Whenever I got close, she put her hands on me, wherever she pleased, keeping my libido elevated. Was that how her old dates had fondled her?
Later we watched some TV shows. She sat on the sofa, with me seated on the floor in front of her, and her legs touching me on either side. It was highly arousing, especially after all the stimulation I'd gotten earlier. My regular senses were all heightened, perhaps because I hadn't eaten anything.
At bedtime she had me take off the harem girl outfit. Then she put me into an uncomfortably tight corset, along with fishnet stockings. It was quite a tactilely effective experience, one that got me erect against my wishes and kept me that way. Lana decided she would sleep naked. By then she was ready for another climax and had me get my mouth on her mound once more.
"Just think," she said dreamily. "You're licking me where all those real men stuck their above-average cocks. I want you to remember that, every time you're down there, which will be a lot from now on. Do you like that idea?"
My self-image was so altered by her assault on my masculinity, that all I could say was, "Yes, Lana."
"Excellent, Myra. And you're doing so well, sounding just like my new girlfriend."
"Thank you."
"Even as good as you are with your mouth, I'm afraid I'm still going to need more of those battering ram cocks. I suppose that will make you jealous. But you'll still get to be my licking-licking girl. In fact, once one of my date leaves, you can give me a nice gentle bonus orgasm, after he's pounded me so hard. That will sooth my puss. But remember, we don't want me to get out of the mood, by having to go and clean myself up before you do your specialty. So, while you're making love to my snatch with your mouth, you'll also be giving it a tongue bath. Maybe you'll develop a taste for eating spunk out of my slit." She chortled.
I meekly agreed, "Yes, Lana. Whatever you want."
"Who knows? If you like the flavor, it might even lead to getting it directly from the source. My ultimate goal would be to make you my sister in sucking, and get you as hooked on long thick cocks as I am. I'm sure some of my guys would like to try a sissy mouth on for size. Imagine that, Myra. Being unable to say 'no' to a big fat man-sausage. Craving them all the time. And knowing that the change is permanent. You said whatever-I- want, so let's make that our goal. Heh, heh, heh. But there's no hurry. We've got a long time to turn you into a fulltime longhorn-lover. In fact, taking you step-by-step, letting you live with the fact that you can't stop what's happening, and reminding you frequently about where it will end up, will be so entertaining -- for me."
"Yes, Lana." I could already see my old life receding into the past. This astonishing change had started so suddenly. But it would take a long time for the rest of it to happen.
