The Adventures of Dixie Chapter One Stacey and I met Jack Jackson at a local swing club. For Stacey, it was love at first sight, and I really can't blame her. With his salt and pepper hair, and standing well over six feet in height, Jack was all man. I, on the other hand, am shorter than my wife, and I have a penchant for crossdressing. Plus, I'm very submissive. That's why we went to the swing club in the first place. The open-minded atmosphere was perfect for her to meet masculine men, while I served the members drinks in my cute little cocktail waitress outfit. In fact, I remember Jack's first drink order on that fateful night. "A double scotch for me and whatever that gorgeous, big-tittied blonde wants." That gorgeous, big tittied blonde happened to be my wife, who was winking salaciously at Jack, and even blowing him a sultry kiss. I spent that evening attending to their requests, serving drinks, lighting cigarettes and cigars, and supporting Stacey's legs as Jack pounded with her deeply. Usually, Stacey would get bored with a new guy after a couple of steamy encounters. But this was not the case with Jack. Soon, he was spending more and more time at our house and taking full advantage of Stacey's hospitality. Before Jack started coming over, Stacey allowed me to dress up and masturbate as much as I wanted to. Jack put an end to that. I would wear what he dictated, and my orgasms were put under his strict control. The clothes he had me wear were not always frilly and feminine, but designed to humiliate. For instance, every Saturday I had to wash and wax his full-sized SUV. My car washing outfit consisted of the tightest, pink lycra, short shorts imaginable; a teeny tiny t-shirt with "Hot Lips" stenciled on the front; white canvas sneakers with pink laces; and yellow, heavy duty rubber cleaning gloves. I was not allowed to wear a wig with this outfit. Instead, a lacy pink garter was used as a headband. Once in a while I was allowed to accompany them to an expensive restaurant, at my expense of course. On these occasions I had to wear a business suit that was several sizes too large for me. This only accented my small stature as I sat next to Jack and Stacey. Underneath the suit I wore an extremely tight corset, seamed stockings, and thong underwear, along with a large butt plug inserted in my bottom. I could barely finish my salad, while they enjoyed the most expensive entrees on the menu. It was over dinner one night that Jack proposed a plan to further govern our household. "You know, dickie, I have been a little disappointed with you lately." My mouth got dry and with a shaky voice I said, "How s-s-so, Mr. Jackson?" The tone of his voice was very stern. He pulled a notepad out of his suit pocket. "I'm glad you asked, little dickie, because I have long list of comments." I gulped, trying to swallow, not knowing what could possibly be on his list. "I'll start with the most recent and work my way back." Stacey idly lit a cigarette and inspected her manicure. Jack continued. "Number one. After I had fucked Stacey this morning and rang for my ritual coffee and cigar, you took over thirty seconds to get from the kitchen to my bedside. That's unacceptable." I felt it best not to protest that my steps were restricted to six-inch increments due to the chains attached to my ankles. "Number two. Last night, after I graciously allowed you to cum inside your D' Orsay pump, you hesitated for a brief instant before swallowing your trivial issue. That is not gratitude." Jack was so right. It had been two months since my last orgasm, and he was so kind to grant me release. But my "trivial issue" was very copious, and well, I did hesitate a little before lifting the shoe to my mouth. After all, it was kind of chunky. "Number three. At the swing club the other night, it took you twenty minutes to blow five bikers. And you didn't even swallow one guy's cum. Instead you gagged like a little girl. Very disappointing." My knees began to tremble. It was true. After taking a hundred dollar bill from one of the bikers, Jack ordered me to suck them off. The last biker's cum was very plentiful and had quite a strong taste. "Number four. Your weight has increased from 115 pounds to 117 pounds. Now I know cum has a lot of protein, dickie. But a two-pound weight gain? Creampie will no longer be a part of your diet until your weight returns to my standards." My heart sank. Stacey's well-fucked pussy was so warm and tasty after Jack had fucked her in his animal-like way. This, indeed, was punishment! "And last, but not least, number five. It's more a global comment. Something I've noticed over the last few months." Jack confidently put his notepad back in his suit pocket and leaned back, lighting a cigar. Puffing it to life, and grabbing Stacey's thigh, Jack spoke expansively. "It has to do with attitude, dickie. Like I tell the girls at work, it's all about attitude. I like a nice cheery greeting in the morning. I want to see a little wiggle in the hips. Some energy! You get my drift, dickie?" He blew a smoke ring that circled my nose. "Y-y-y-yes, Mr. Jackson. You have been such inspiration for Stacey. The least I can do is be more appreciative." I looked at Stacey for support, but she was busy checking her makeup. "Good boy, little dickie," Jack said, and I squirmed with the sound of his praise. "So you know what I mean. When I say no orgasm for three months, what do you say?" I tried to answer quickly, but the thought of three months of denial did cause me to pause. "I will say, Thank you, Mr. Jackson! You are most generous!" "That's a good boy, dickie. Now take this for me." He handed me a small blue pill. "It's a legal drug, dickie. One for erectile dysfunction." "But, Mr. Jackson, I don't suffer from impotence," I said. Jack's voice got very firm. "Now, little dickie, you see what I mean about attitude? I want to see a more positive response than that." "Yes, Mr. Jackson. Thank you for your concern." I took the pill from his large hand and emptied my glass of water. "That's better," Jack said. "In an hour or so your little dickie will be harder than Chinese arithmetic." He laughed loudly and Stacey joined in, too. "Now it's off to the club!" At the club, after the pill started having a most profound effect on my tiny pecker, Jack made me unzip my oversized pants and walk around with my little stiffy poking out. A sign was hung about my neck that read: Empty Suit. The women at the club loved it! Later, I performed a long strip tease for the lady's, shedding my large suit and exposing, piecemeal, my lacy and restrictive undergarments. One of the ladies, a rather matronly overweight woman, actually brought out a tape measure and announced to the hooting crowd that I was three inches of hot love! Her comment was a real crowd pleaser. Jack and Stacey laughed all the way home as I lay in the back in the luggage compartment of his SUV. "That enough air for you back there, dickie?" Jack said as he adjusted the AC to a freezing level. I could not answer because of the ball gag.; I just shivered uncontrollably. "Jack, honey, I just loved seeing dickie all dolled up and wearing wingtips. At first I thought he should wear high heels at the club, but you were right. Those ugly shoes and that frilly underwear made the perfect combination!" "Did it make you hot, baby?" Jack asked. "Hot enough to suck your cock all night, lover," she giggled. The sounds of their kissing were unmistakable as I humped the rough carpet in order to get warm.
Chapter Two The three months crawled by slowly. I'm sure Jack and Stacey noticed my frustration. Tears would often well up in my eyes when they made love in front of me. I was glad Stacey was happy, but couldn't I get a little reward for not complaining? After three months I was starting to lose focus on my duties. My seams weren't always straight. Mr. Jackson certainly noticed that! My panties were constantly wet. Another reason for punishment. And my fingers shook so much in the morning that I could not apply my makeup perfectly. A very big no-no. Finally, Jack had had enough. After Jack's third orgasm (and Stacey's umpteenth), he lay back on the bed as I bent over and lit his cigar. "Little dickie, it seems we have reached a point of diminishing returns. You know, one reason I control your release is because you serve with such enthusiasm when in need. Ahem! ... ashtray?" "Oh! Excuse me, Mr. Jackson!" I said, bringing the ashtray beneath his cigar. "Where was my head?" "That's my point, dickie. Your need is now obstructing your common sense." He thumped his cigar and I barely caught the ash. "We may have to cut back on the Viagra." He chuckled. "Yes, sir," I said, my cheeks blushing a deep crimson. "dickie? How many letters in "yes sir?" I though a bit. "Uhm ... six, Mr. Jackson." "For speaking without permission, I will grant you masturbation rights in six hours. If you had kept your fucking cake hole shut, you'd be spewing in your pumps by now." I almost stomped my foot in frustration, but withheld my emotional outburst. After all, he could have said six days! "Well, contrary to popular belief, I do have a heart. It's your birthday today, right?" I hesitated before answering, then felt safe in doing so. "Yes, sir! Thank you for remembering." He waved off my thanks. "Stacey told me last night after you cleaned her pussy and went to your room. She thought a nice wank would be the perfect present for you. You know how sentimental women can be." Stacey was sound asleep at his side, her hand resting on his cock. I nodded tentatively, careful not to speak. Jack puffed on his cigar in contemplation. "Maybe you could tie a nice pink ribbon around your dickie. We'll have a cake -- with candles. You can make a wish. And then you can open your present." He seemed to be enjoying himself. "It'll be your day, dickie. Now open wide. I have to get some sleep." It was a little ritual Jack employed whenever he finished his cigar. I opened my mouth and he placed the lit end into my mouth. I closed my lips around it and ran as fast as I could to the kitchen before it burned my tongue. Then I snuffed it out in the ashtray. I cringed at the horrible taste in my mouth. How could men smoke those disgusting things?
Chapter Three "How's my birthday boy?" Stacey asked, a twinkle in her eye. I had just finished doing the laundry and was folding Mr. Jackson's boxers. "Come give mommy a hug." "Stacey, darling! What a pleasant surprise!" I tip-toed to her, my high heels tapping softly on the tile floor. My pink pageboy wig framed my smiling face. She was wearing satin pajamas and high heel bedroom slippers, the kind with a cute fuzz ball on each toe. I slipped into her warm embrace, noticing her cleavage happened to be encrusted with Jack's dried cum. "Mmmmm ... mommy is so proud of her little boy. You've done such a good job of adjusting since Jack moved in." I beamed hearing her praise, daring to lick the crumbs from her breasts. "Easy, dickie. I'm still sore there." "Yes, mommy. I'll be careful." She purred softly as I gently lapped between her gorgeous breasts. "If only more men could be like my you," she said. "So helpful and so eager to please." Her knee wedged my thighs apart and she pressed her leg against my raging hard-on. "I can't wait for you to open your present tonight, but you must be patient. Jack and I have to do some shopping today. He needs a new suit. I need some new shoes, and I have to get my hair done. Plus, we need to buy you a birthday cake!" "Oh, mommy! A birthday cake? Can I have a chocolate cake, please?" I asked. "Well, we have to look after your figure, but I'll talk to Jack about it. I don't see why not. I see there is plenty in here to keep you busy while we shop," she said, pointing to a small mountain of lingerie that had to be hand-washed. Suddenly, her eyes sparkled with an idea. "Baby doll, slip off my pajama bottoms and hand me a pair of Jack's boxers. I love wearing them." I cleared my throat and knelt before her, then I slid her smooth, satin pajama bottoms down her long legs. When she stepped out of them the scent of her well-fucked pussy almost caused me to swoon. The lips of her moist flower were still swollen and puffy from her morning frolic. With trembling knees, I stood, retrieved a pair of Jack's boxers, and knelt before her again so she could step into them. She giggled when the waistband snapped around her curvaceous hips. "Well?" she asked, as she did a sexy pirouette. "They l-l-look lovely on you, mommy." My hands pressed down on my lap as I squirmed on my knees. Her legs were perfect, tan and very long. Her mules gave the impromptu outfit a stunning, erotic look. "Thanks, baby doll. Maybe I'll buy a few pair for myself today." She turned to go back upstairs, then stopped. "Oh, I almost forgot. After your birthday party, Jack and I are going to spend the night at The Regency. And let's see....what else?" Her finger tapped her chin. "I remember now. Jack wants you to wear Outfit #3 tonight. We'll be back in a few, hon. Ta-ta!" She left me there kneeling on the floor, my mouth agape. Outfit #3 was practically bondage personified. It consisted of the tightest leather corset known to man, ultra high heels that were locked into place and connected by a length of chain, seamed stockings, crotchless panties, and a most cruel mask that came with an inflatable ball gag attached. Fortunately, the mask had eyeholes. Full-length opera style gloves-with cuffs-completed the ensemble. I guess the only positive thing you could say about Outfit #3 was that I didn't have worry much about my makeup. I just had to apply a lot of eye shadow and extra long lashes. It would take me almost two hours just to put it on. I got busy washing Stacey's lingerie!
Chapter Four I expected them home by six o'clock, but it was after eight before they pulled into the driveway. It was impossible to sit in Outfit #3 so standing inside the foyer for two hours was killing my feet. I opened the door for them; they were loaded down with packages. "Thank you, sweetie," Stacy said as she walked hurriedly by and up the stairs. Jack followed her in, smelling of cigar smoke and alcohol. "Well, well, well. What have we here? Is it the birthday boy?" he asked. I nodded, my cheeks flaming red with embarrassment beneath the mask. My little dickie was lewdly sticking out from the crotchless panties. I did not forget to tie a pink ribbon around the base of my prick and balls. The bow was so pretty with its lace trim. Jack said, "I know you can't walk up the stairs in that get up, dickie. So take these packages to the den and set them by the sofa." I nodded, taking the packages, and slowly made my way to the den. "We'll be there in a few." They spent about 30 minutes in the bedroom packing for their stay at The Regency before coming down and going to the kitchen. I could tell Stacey was in a good mood; her laughter filled the house. Then things got quiet and they soon entered the den. Stacey was carrying a plain cup cake with one small pink candle, her hand cupping the tiny flame so it wouldn't go out. She set the cup cake on a bar stool and cleared her voice. She didn't sing the whole birthday song, just the end: "Happy birthday to you." I guess she was just being thoughtful or maybe she was in a hurry. "Happy birthday, sweetums! I know we talked about a chocolate cake, baby doll, but our shopping expedition turned out longer than we planned. We barely had time to stop by the bakery on our way out of the mall to get the cup cake. Didn't we, Jackiepoo?" "That's right, sweet cheeks," he said as he scooped her up in his arms and gave her a big kiss. "Fortunately, we didn't have to buy balloons, because Outfit #3 comes with a balloon, doesn't it, dickie?" I nodded. The gag had not been inflated as yet. But that changed when Jack walked over and squeezed the pump a few times. "Ah ha! Now the party is complete! Cake and balloons!" Stacey stifled her laughter, or rather she made a good attempt at it. "Now, dickie, we want you to open your present now, but there is a catch." Jack grinned at Stacey. "We want you to make a wish and blow out your candle, but since your mouth is occupied at the moment, you'll have to extinguish the flame with your ejaculate. If you are successful, dickie, you can jerk off next week. If you don't put the candle out ... well ... I just may have to try out my new whip I bought today. After all, the birthday boy deserves some swats, eh?" I tried to swallow, but the ball gag prevented it. My whole body was trembling like a leaf. "So c'mon, dickie," Jack said. "Make a wish. Stacey and I have to get going soon." I stepped-inch by inch-to the candle, made a wish (that I could put the candle out!), and encircled my penis with my leather gloves. I moaned as I began to jerk my pud. Oh, what a glorious feeling! In less than 30 seconds the first string of jism erupted from my tiny pecker and hit the candle's flame solidly. But it did not go out!! The flame returned! In shock, I jerked off faster aiming stream after stream onto the candle ... as well as the cup cake. But the candle would not go out! After spewing my load, the candle still burned, and the cake was covered with my issue. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," Jack said. "I guess your wish won't come true, dickie. But at least your cake has icing now." Stacey chuckled and walked over to me, kissing the crown of my mask. "We were being mean to sweetums," she said mockingly. "It's one of those trick candles, baby doll. If you pinch the flame with your fingers, it will go out. Then you can have your cake. But first we need you to take our bags out to the car." My stomach quit growling after I ate my cup cake and licked my fingers clean. Stacey was right. A chocolate cake would have ruined my figure. I shed Outfit #3 with a sigh of relief and was looking forward to a long night's sleep when I saw that a note had been left on my pillow. It was from Jack.
Chapter Five At ten o'clock the next morning, I was awakened by the phone ringing in the next room. There was not much I could do as I waited for the answering machine to kick in. "Hey, sweetums! Mommy here. You would not believe the view we have from our hotel suite, baby doll! It's lovely! And guess what? We're soaking in the room's spa as I speak! Isn't that exciting?! So, sweetums ... I know I said we'd be home by ten, but we're going to stay a few more hours." She moaned loudly. "The view is just breathtaking! See ya in a few. Kiss, kiss." I envied my wife, because my view , while breathtaking, was not very lovely. While my wife and lover were enjoying the finest hotel in town, Jack had instructed me to sleep in the laundry hamper with one of Jack's jockey straps covering my face. The rest of the hamper was full of his dirty socks and gym shorts. Jack was very athletic. Due to his height, basketball was his favorite game, and he would come home after a long day at the gym drenched in sweat. I made washing his gym clothes a priority because the odor from the hamper would soon fill the whole house. And here I was, naked, trying to get used to the smell. I had also been trying to swallow a long pubic hair that must have come from the jockey strap. It just refused to go down! Later that night, while soaking in my little tub in the guest bathroom, Stacey told me about an idea Jack had. Her soft voice soothed the ache in my arms and legs. "I have good news, sweetums," she said. "Jack thinks, and I agree with him, that with a few little alterations, you can join us in our bedroom!" I nearly jumped out of the tub with joy! "Oh thank you, Stacey! Thank you, thank you!" She placed her hand on my shoulder to calm me down. "Well, I think Jack is being very generous and open-minded about the whole thing. We'll start the surgery next week." "S-s-surgery?" I stammered, suddenly having second thoughts. "Oh, just a few minor alterations, baby doll, nothing too drastic. Jack likes a perky nose on a woman, a nice handful of tit, and a some junk in the trunk, if you know what I mean." She giggled. "While you're having that done they'll shave your Adam's apple, inject collagen into your lips, remove two ribs for figure enhancement, and shorten the tendons behind your ankles so you can wear high heels all the time." I didn't know quite what to think, but then I thought of something very important to me. "Stacey? What about my-you know-little dickie?" "Oh, baby doll," Stacey said. "You know how mommy loves your little dickie! It stays." "My, that is generous of Mr. Jackson," I said. "It is, sweetie! And if the alterations are to his liking, he said he wouldn't mind slapping nuts with you anytime! Now how's that for being open-minded!"
Chapter Six I was lying in bed on my stomach, my ass pooched up by a pillow. I was still recovering from surgery, but Jack and Stacey couldn't wait to take a peek at the alterations now and then. Jack pulled back the covers, exposing my new bottom. Jack spread my bulbous ass cheeks apart. Personally, I thought the doctors had gone a little overboard with the silicon injections back there. I mean, it felt as big as a soccer ball! "Look at that, Stacey," Jack said. Didn't they do a good job on dixie's love canal?" They had started calling me dixie after the surgery. "Just a little pruning around the sphincter-snip, snip-and viola! A perfect flower. I swear, that's a pussy if ever I've seen one." "Now you'll have to go easy on her, Jack," Stacey said as she caressed my bottom. "You can't be a bull in a china shop with dixie the first night." "Hell, I thought it was more like shoving my roto-rooter up her sewer!" Stacey chuckled. "Jack Jackson, you are incorrigible." "Yeah, ain't I though?" He snapped on a surgical glove and put some lubricant on his fingers. "Why don't we take this little baby for a test drive?" I gasped into my pillow as Jack's large middle finger slipped into my sore rectum. The pain pills that the doctors had prescribed were strictly rationed by Jack and Stacey, so Jack's thick, probing finger was very evident as he pushed it in deeply. "Oh, dixie, we're gonna have some fun with you." Jack inserted another finger. "Damn, this bitch is tight."
Chapter Seven Three weeks later I was standing at attention in front of Jack, wearing a pair of six-inch high heels mules and a pair of my special panties. My special panties were nothing more than a nice, tiny satin sack that encased my balls and clitty. Stacey had made many special panties for me, in a variety of colors and materials. My chest was thrust out, displaying my new tits and erect nipples that-due to the doctors' alterations-were two inches long. Legs were together, butt pooched out, and hands parallel to the floor. Eyes straight ahead. Jack was pacing the room, holding his "pointer," which was actually a three-foot-long cane rod of very pliable bamboo. Since I had been altered more than originally planned, Jack thought it best to conduct an anatomy lesson. I was very nervous because I had to study and memorize a chart he gave me. It was a sure thing a correction with his pointer would follow an incorrect answer. "What are these?" he asked, tapping my toes that peeked out of from the mules. "Sissy feet, Mr. Jackson. Sissy toe nails are to be kept painted and match fingertip colors. Footwear requires a minimum heel height of three inches." "How high are your shortest heels, dixie?" "Five inches, Mr. Jackson." "Good. I know the chart I gave you said three inches, but Stacey and I set our standards higher. And we have to guard our investment in you, too. Your minimum heel height will be five inches." "Yes, Mr. Jackson." "Now," he said, raking his pointer over my hip. "What's this?" "Sissy waist, Mr. Jackson. To be strictly maintained at proper feminine proportions-23 inches to 26 inches." "And this?" he asked, the cane tapping my head rather firmly. "Sissy hair, Mr. Jackson. To be kept long and in feminine styles. Sissy hair can be dyed any color to suit sissy roles." "I like redheads," Jack said, grinning and fluffing my fiery curls. He was so close to me. My knees began to tremble and my ass shook like jelly on a plate. He stepped behind me caressed my quivering cheeks. He gave one cheek a love tap. "What's this, dixie?" "Sissy ass, Mr. Jackson. To be kept soft, rounded and smooth in proper feminine proportions-34 inches to 38 inches. Sissy ass is a grope toy, Sir, and a secondary cocktease tool. Sissy ass is to be kept encased in silk, satin, or lace panties." Jack chuckled. "It would take a gym bag to encase your sissy ass, dixie. So we think your special panties will do fine." He raked his finger down between my pooched cheeks and then spread them apart. And this, dixie. What am I looking at now?" "Sissy pussy, Mr. Jackson. A primary fuck toy. A cock receptacle or a cock pleasure sheath. A semen depository. A dildo attachment point. Sissy pussy is to be kept shaved at all times." "Excellent." Jack walked slowly around to face me. He then put a finger to my lips, inserting it into my mouth and withdrawing it with a little pop. "This?" "Sissy mouth and tongue, Mr. Jackson. A secondary fuck toy. A cock receptacle or cock pleasure sheath. A dildo attachment point. Sissy mouth is also a pussy stimulator, a pussy cleaner, and a semen depository. Sissy lips are to be kept painted in feminine glossy colors." "Good, good! You're learning, dixie. Now these," tapping my fingers with his cane. Sissy hands and fingers, Mr. Jackson. Also known as a pussy vibrator and an alternate cock pleasure sheath. Fingertips are to be kept long and painted in shiny feminine colors." He took one of my erect nipples between his thumb and forefinger and twisted. "Next," he said. "Sissy tits, Mr. Jackson," my voice cracking just a bit. "Sissy's pride and joy, soft and full. To be enhanced to proper feminine proportions-33 inches to 36 inches. Sissy tits are ..." "Stop, dixie. Tell me the size of your sissy tits." He was still twisting my nipple. "Thirty-six inches, S-s-sir. D-cup." "Go on." "Sissy tits are a grope toy, an alternate cock pleasure sheath. Nipples are to be kept perky and hard." I couldn't help but moan as Jack made sure this was the case. "A bra is optional except where used to draw attention to tits and nipples. Sissy tits are a primary cocktease tool." "Indeed they are, dixie. Indeed they are." He stepped back and folded his strong arms, looking down at me. "Now a small exam. If I wanted to use your secondary fuck toy, what would you present to me?" "Sissy mouth and tongue, Mr. Jackson." "How many semen depositories do you have?" "Two, Sir. Sissy mouth and sissy pussy." "The number of cock pleasure sheaths ... quickly!" The cane swished through the air. I had to think a bit before answering. "F-f-four, Sir! Sissy mouth, sissy pussy, sissy tits, and ... uhm ...sissy hands." "Now ... let's complete this oral exam, shall we? Kneel, dixie, and present me your secondary fuck toy." I knelt quickly, keeping my posture straight, my tits jutting out proudly. Inch by inch I made my way to the thick cock that dangled between his long legs. With each movement, my tits and ass shook provocatively. When I was within kissing distance of the mushroomed-shaped head, I stopped and opened my mouth. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and guided his divine cock past my painted lips. He started fucking my cock receptacle slowly at first, but soon his pace quickened. The sound of his cock pistoning in and out of my mouth was like that of a plumber's helper unclogging a stubborn drain. He stopped before cumming. My head was swimming, my lips numb. "Yes, yes ... very nice," he said, drawing out his cock. "You would have earned an A if you had maintained eye contact. Let's move on to the mid-terms. Hop on the bed and present your primary fuck toy." I knelt on the luxurious satin sheets, my face on the bed, my ass pooched high in the air, my legs spread. Jack moved to the bedside table and coated his cock with oil. I would have gladly done that for him, but seeing his strong hand stroke himself to hardness caused my heart to flutter. I guess he didn't want to stain the sheets. He climbed behind me, kneeling between my legs, and spread my ass cheeks apart. "I swear, the doctor did a hell of a job back here. Now, dixie, I want you to take one of pussy vibrators and give me a little show." Smiling shyly, I reached back to my sissy pussy and parted the petals of my anal rose. My long pink fingernails must have presented a pleasant sight. His cock head toyed with the petals of my flower before inserting just the tip. Jack moaned in a feral manner. "Excellent, dixie." He frigged his cock there while he spoke. "You may know, dixie, that a man's cock head is very sensitive. It's not always necessary to suck a cock all the way down your throat. Nor do I have to go balls deep in your fuck toy to have fun. Just the right pressure and stimulation under the tip causes immense pleasure." His hips maintained a steady pace, still keeping only the head inside me. "But it is nice to feel the warmth around my shaft," he said, pushing in another thick inch. "Rock a little bit, dixie. Oh yeah, that's it ... don't make Mr. Jackson do all the work." My ass cheeks slapped together softly as I rocked back and forth, gasping for air as I felt his cock go in deeper. I was in heaven! He gave my ass a resounding slap with his oiled hand. "Faster, bitch! Let's give it a good workout!" He then plunged his cock into me, his heavy balls buffeting against my special panties. I squealed like a little girl! His hands slipped underneath and his fingers toyed with my tits and nipples, his strong hips slapping against my ass. After about five minutes of solid pumping, he stopped, and made me do the work. "Milk it, baby! Rock that ass! Slap those cheeks together!" He spanked my ass harder. My hips roiled and my cheeks popped against one another loudly, bringing all the weight in my ass onto his rigid cock. I clinched the muscles of my flower around his shaft and coaxed his passion to erupt deep inside me. He took his cock out. lay back on the bed, and simply said, in his deep voice raspy voice, "Secondary fuck toy."
Chapter Eight I sat nervously next to Jack as Pastor Hungwell went over the bid from Jack's construction company. The pastor's church was adding a new wing and the job was very lucrative. Pastor Hungwell went through each page of the bid in meticulous detail. Also included with the bid were several eight-by-ten glossy photographs of me wearing my string bikini. The pastor studied those very closely as well. "Well, Jack," Pastor said, slipping the photos in his desk drawer. "This is a very ... attractive proposal. The lord has certainly blessed me this day ... uhm ... and the church, too, of course." "I thought you'd like it, Pastor. Now, if you don't mind, the surveyors are outside and want to take a look around. Dixie here has a question about joining the choir. You think fifteen minutes with dixie is enough time, Pastor? Then we can go over the plans." "Sure, Jack. That should be plenty of time. I'll join you and the survey team in the conference room." Jack patted my shoulder in a patronly way. "Be a good girl, dixie," he said before winking to the pastor and leaving the office. "Well, dixie, as you can see; I don't have much time. So let's go to my special prayer room, shall we?" He stood and opened the door, motioning me to enter. I was wearing a very conservative skirt that hugged my legs all the way to my ankles. I could only take small, quick steps to the prayer room. "That's it, my child," the pastor said, patting my fanny as I inched my way in. The prayer room was dark, lit by a solitary light in the shape of a candle. In the middle of the room was a small, padded bench. "Kneel and lay across the prayer stool, dixie. That's it." I felt the zipper in back of my skirt go down. The pastor knelt behind me and placed his divine staff at the entrance to my primary cock pleasure sheath. "So you want to join the choir, dixie? Let's hear you hit a few high notes." After my choir audition, I went to the church bathroom and inserted a tampon so I wouldn't stain Jack's car seat. As I waited nearly an hour for him to finish his meeting, I spent the time leafing through fashion magazines, which were the only reading materials I was allowed. Jack got in the car, all smiles. "I'm gonna make a killing on this church deal, sweet cheeks. That peckerwood pastor isn't even going to look at other bids. Must have been my smooth salesmanship." He started the SUV. "Sissy hands, dixie." I gently cupped his balls as he drove to the gym and talked into his cell phone. "Yeah, Donnie. We're gonna need a lot cheap labor soon. Round up the usual suspects." He dialed another number. "Pete? How's that bid lookin' on the old folk's home? Great. Fuck yeah, include the pics." He dialed one more number. "Stacey. Pack our bags, baby. We're going to Bermuda."
Chapter Nine I sat in shock in front of the computer monitor, looking at the mug shot of Terry "Grizzly" Adams. Jack had called up a website of convicts looking for pen pals. "Grizzly did a favor for me a few months ago before he got sent to the can. We were having a little labor dispute at one of the job sights. Grizzly and his boys straightened it out ... with baseball bats." I gasped at the stats provided with his picture: 6' 7", 300 lbs., numerous tattoos. Serving ten years for extortion, robbery, and rape. "Grizzly told the prison staff he was married, so he can have conjugal visits once a month. But his real old lady overdosed on crank just before he went in the joint. So, to repay him for his favor to me, I volunteered you, dixie, to visit Grizzly once a month. Think of it as your way of giving back to the community." He chuckled before adding another comment, "I hear he loves his salad tossed." To be continued.
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