Chapter 3

This smell is new for me, so as it funnels into my nose in the last deep breaths of my sleep, it wakes me. Wakes me before the sunlight seeping in through a missing slat in your wooden blinds do. I notice now they’re aging, in disrepair. I was so lost in the lust of you and the image I’d built up of you that last night I don’t think I could have noticed a single imperfection about you even if it was staring me in the face.

I take a deep breath and try to place the smell. It’s not just being in a strange bed, in a strange house with a strange man.

The bed is cooler than it should be. I stretch my arms out to reach for your warmth but come up empty. Granted your bed is wide enough that you could just be beyond my reach. But I open my eyes and realize the bed is empty.

I lift myself up and look around but don’t see you.

What is that smell?

I let my head drop back down to the sheets and inhale. Oh.

Stale sex.

It must be. But I’ve only ever smelled this with women and that’s…different?

The sweat soaked sheets are musky, twice as musky as I’m used to. The rich organic smell is offset by the somewhat plastic-y smell that must be coming from me. I reach down under my balls and my hands are slick with lube. It’s thicker and stickier than it was last night, drying but not completely in the humidity of my blanket cover crotch.

Where are you?

I want to reach for my phone but remember it’s in the pocket of the men’s pants I was required to strip out of and leave in the pile on your concrete garage floor. The memory of being ordered and submitting to your commands makes me feel a bit ashamed. But it also makes my cock twitch under the blanket.

I pick myself up again, ready to find something to wrap myself in and go out to the garage, but there on the nightstand is my phone. I’m touched and turned on by the anticipatory gesture.

I grab it, ignore all the other notifications I have and read your text first.

Daddy’s gone to the gym. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back soon.

PS: Remember daddy’s rules. Be a good girl.

Fuck. My cock is fully hard now. I’m forming plans in my head.

I get up and rush to the bathroom. As tempting as it would be to relax in your jacuzzi tub right now, I force myself into the shower. A cold shower. The cool water helps relieve the aches I feel all over my body. Some from where I exerted myself or strained my body to stay in position for you. Others from where you grabbed me so hard you left light bruises. Never have I loved a bruise this much before.

I see a set of women’s toiletries on the shelf and smile. More of your ex’s abandoned things. I grab the rose scented body wash and flick it open and take a deep breath. I’m lost in it for a moment, simultaneously turned on by the idea of a rose scented woman and a rose scented me dressed up as a woman. I’d hate the confusion of being a bisexual gender fluid person if it weren’t so goddamned pleasurable.

I lather myself up. When I get to my crotch and ass crack I scrub several times. I thought my asshole would be more sore, but instead it’s more numb than anything. I lift the shower head off the hook and giggle and bite my lip when I feel the tingling sensation on my balls and in my crack. If I want to be a good girl for you, pleasuring myself without your permission is definitely off the table.

I rinse myself off once more and step out. I grab a towel from the rack, at first feeling invasive and unhygienic for using your towel without asking. But then I remember the feeling of your tongue probing my asshole and then that same tongue probing my mouth minutes later and realize that those boundaries of hygiene are probably long past us.

I dry myself off and wrap the towel around me. Not around my waist like I’d normally do, but up around my chest and under my arms, like a proper lady should do. I want to sway my hips and walk like a proper lady too, but I’m too excited and instead rush back over to the walk-in closet and rip open the bin of your ex-wife’s clothes again.

I remember something from last night that caught my eye and I hope it fits. I find it and pull it out. A yellow and white floral flowy maxi dress. I turn around and hold it up to myself and it’s perfect. I turn back around, not wanting to see how I look until I’m ready. I let the towel drop to the floor and then unzip the back of the dress before stepping in and pulling up the straps up to my shoulders. The zipper is a little bit of a struggle to get up my wide back, but I manage it.

I take a deep breath, nervous about whether I’ll like the sight, but when I turn around, I’m overwhelmed. I look fucking gorgeous. There are some frills from the waist down that flair out and hide the fact that I don’t have all the right curves for the dress. I turn to the side and arch my back and see how the dress makes my hips look wide, and my ass round and fat. I have a feeling you’ll like this as much as I do.

There’s one thing the frills can’t hide though. As I turn back around, I see the giant tent my excited cock has pitched sticking out in front of the dress.

I turn around and bend over to look in the bin for more panties and as I do I feel the fabric slip between my legs and into my crack. The free feeling of the flowing fabric against my most private parts is exhilarating. I find a pair of simple white panties. They seem lightly worn, but there’s no period stains and they smell fresh as laundry detergent. I pull them up my legs and wince as I tuck my hard cock down into them. I straighten out the dress and head back to the bathroom.

I grab the lipstick and eye liner and go a bit heavier with them than I did last night. I pull open the medicine cabinet and am excited to see a light pink bottle of perfume. I spray a cloud of it beside me and step in, hoping the scent won’t be overpowering. I take a deep breath and again I’m overwhelmed by the attraction I feel toward the feminine scent. If I ever meet your ex, I’ll have to find some way to thank her for the great taste.

It’s been half an hour since your text, I’m not sure how much time I have left before you get back. I head downstairs, wanting to rush to get as much done as I can, but also wanting to let myself feel what it’s like to walk in these clothes. To feel how the cloth flows as I sway my hips. To feel how the cool air hits my almost bare chest as I walk swiftly down the stairs.

I search through your fridge and cabinets, noting what ingredients and tools you have. Your kitchen has the essentials but is definitely lacking. I can see the role your ex-wife played, or at least the one you expected her to play and how you’ve not even attempted to fill it yourself. Normally that’d be a criticism from me, but right now it just makes me glow and gives me purpose.

The stove is sizzling loudly with the onions and mushrooms I threw in. I’m whisking a bowl of eggs as fast as I can. Focused and determined to make you a delicious breakfast.

Very focused.

So focused that I’m completely in shock when I feel two big hands smack the bottom of my ass and squeeze hard, tightening the front of the dress against my growing bulge. As if my cock knows what’s coming next before I do.

I yelp loudly and immediately drop the whisk into the bowl. My first instinct is to turn around and fight, but you’re faster than my instincts.

Before I can react, your body is pressed against mine, pushing me further into the counter. Your left-hand wraps around the front of my throat, and your right hand reaches around front to grab my whole bulge and squeeze it hard. I wince at the strain against my balls but sigh at the feeling of your bold touch. Your head curves down against might while your mouth is sucking and licking me behind my ear.

I hear you flick the stove off and I feel the vacuum of air against my hair as you take a deep breath and smell me.

“This slutty little outfit better be just for daddy,” you say with a growl in my ear before biting it.

I whimper and my knees begin to wobble and for a moment I’m almost entirely supported by your hand almost choking my throat. I should be horrified at this feeling, but the idea that your single hand is big and strong enough to hold me up like this just sends shivers up and down my body and makes me press my ass against you.

You moan as you grab my crotch tighter and encourage me to grind against your bulge. You slide your left hand down the length of my neck and let it slip into the top of my dress. You squeeze my whole pec tight and moan before finding my nipple and giving it a firm pinch. My knees get weaker, but you’re pressing me so hard with your bulge that I’m almost sitting on it now, feeling almost weightless. I’m in ecstasy. Or just lightheaded from the recent lack of oxygen.

You spin me around so fast I don’t even have time to be disappointed at losing the feeling of your bulge on my ass.

You squeeze me by my upper arms and effortlessly lift me on to the countertop. Your hands pull dress the straps down shoulders, letting the fabric graze down my chest just enough to let you lean in and take my left nipple into your mouth while you flick the other one in your rough hands.

I groan and throw my head back. If it weren’t for my tight grip on the back of your head, I would have fallen across the counter and probably knocked myself out.

I take deep breaths as the waves of pleasure hit me and I can smell you now. I let my hands glide down and feel your sweaty back through your mesh work-out tank top. In any other scenario, your smelly sweaty body would disgust me. But now feeling it pressed up against my freshly cleaned perfumed body feels amazing. The contrast drives me wild. I want you to ruin me. I want your smelly sweaty scent on me. I want you to make me disheveled while you satisfy yourself and leave me in a messy pile on the floor when you’re done.

You give my nipples a break and for the first time today you look me in the eye. You stare at me a moment, watching me panting, trying to recover from the daze you put me in.

I look into your eyes and while I see lust and hunger for me in there, it’s not all. You seem genuinely excited to have me here. I know I shouldn’t let myself think that without confirmation, but you don’t just look at me like an object to fuck. I mean you definitely are looking at me like that. But there’s something else, something even more intense behind your eyes.

But before I can begin to decode it, you grab the back of my head and force your tongue into my mouth, probing and exploring it, tasting every corner as if my saliva had some special flavor only you could detect.

You slide your hands under my thighs and lift me off the counter. The feeling of weightlessness returns, and I feel safe and protected in your arms as you carry me. I assume you’re taking me up to your bedroom, but instead you drop me onto the floor. The feeling of safety and protection vanishes I feel you press your sweaty bulge into my face.

I slide my hand up your thigh. I fantasized about this at the gym so many times, whenever I see a big guy wearing loose mesh shorts. I have to keep my eyes from locking in on their crotches and searching for their cocks sway under the fine fabric. I don’t have to do any such thing here. I reach up your shorts and into your jock strap and pull the length of your cock out and down your leg. I look up at you, eyes as wide as possible. For a moment, my hand stroking your big cock under your mesh black shorts. I turn my head and bite my lip.

“Daddy,” I say nervously. “Can I taste it?”

You smile and nod and I before I know it, your jock strap and shorts are in a pile on the floor at my knees and your cock is pressing through my lips, pumping in and out of my mouth. Streams of drool are dripping into my beard and down my chin. I have your balls in one hand, feeling their weight and playing with them as their shape changes. With the other hand I’m working your shaft, and holding it steady as I suck your cock enthusiastically like a popsicle on a hot summer day.

I close my eyes and get lost in the taste and all the sensations. The sour smell of my saliva on your shaft makes my own cock even harder against the soft fabric of your ex-wife’s panties.

But before I can enjoy it all too much, you slide your hips back and slap my face with your hard cock, wiping my saliva all over my cheeks.

You grab the back of my neck and pull me up and throw me across the kitchen floor. I land with my hands on the breakfast table. I begin to stand up, but feel you push me down by my neck and almost slam me back down onto the table.

You slap my ass, right in between my legs and grab me hard by my crotch. I cry out in pain and pleasure as you lift me and straighten my legs so my ass is up in the air.

You pull my dress up and I feel the cool air against my ass for a moment before I feel sharp pain of your full hand come down for another spank.

“Ugh,” I whine in pain.

“Is there something you need to say, girl?” You yell so loudly, the fear and force of the sound pushes me deeper into the table.

Another spank comes down hard on my panty covered ass.

“Ughh,” I whine out again.

“I’m getting real tired of these bad manners, girl,” you say as another spank radiates through my ass.

The shock of the hits are subsiding now and I begin to feel waves of pleasure eek out as sweat beads down my foreheads. In between the waves of pleasure and pain, I’m trying to search for what I did wrong, why I’m being disciplined. Not that it has to make sense. It doesn’t have to be something I really did wrong. I really I just need to play along.

“Ugh,” I belt out loud with the next spank. “Sorry daddy, I didn’t mean to be a bad girl. I won’t let it happen again.”

I think that satisfies you, but the next spank comes down harder. This time though you keep your hand in place and leisurely feel my ass up. Your hand slides into my panties and your fingers play around in my fur.

I moan and gyrate my hips against your hand, foolishly thinking my punishment is over.

Your hand stops moving and your fingers and thumb come together to pinch my whole ass cheek hard.

“Oh fuck,” I yelp out and immediately know I’ve made real mistake this time.

You twist your hand around and pull the panties down to my knees. I note you don’t rip them off this time, but the thought is fleeting as I feel your hand come down in full force against my bare skin.

And this time there are no breaks. Spank after spank comes and while the pain intensifies with each hit, the heat waves that pulse from my ass and radiates into me is thrilling.

“Sorry daddy!” I literally cry out, with tears dripping down my nose and onto the table. “I’ll be a good girl from now on, I promise.”

You laugh, a deep laugh and give me one more spank. I feel your heat disappear for a second as you walk across the kitchen and back. You pull my head up by my hair and shove your sweaty jock strap into my mouth.

“A good girl only speaks when she’s spoken to, understood?” You say sternly, the smile disappearing from your face.

I nod and rest my head back down on the table knowing you’re serious this time.

I feel your hot breath between my ass cheeks and your tongue darting in. I want to moan in pleasure, but I know I need to be quiet and obedient now. Then I feel the vibrations of your groans reverberating from my boy pussy into my body and out my mouth in my own groans. You smack both my ass cheeks, but not so hard this time. You stand up and walk away to the kitchen again and then come back.

I feel a cool mist spray into my ass crack, and I turn around to see you using coconut oil cooking spray to lube us up. I want to laugh at the ridiculous sight, but I’m reminded of your jockstrap in my mouth. It smells and feels disgusting, but that just turns me on, and I feel my cock bounce against the underside of the table in excitement.

I bite down on the strap as I feel a pressure on my asshole. I realize this time you’re not warming me up with your fingers. Your thick cock head is pressing into me. I want to protest, but that fact that you aren’t playing with my ass first makes me realize you’re in no mood to be argued with. You’re hungry and plowing my ass raw is the only thing that’s going to satiate you.

So, I do my best to relax my muscles and push back. It hurts, but it’s easier than I think it’ll be. The head slides in with a slight pop, but the next few inches slide in smoothly until you hit the next tightness in my sphincter.

I have no poppers in my system to relax me this time. You pull out a few inches and give your shaft another good spray before sliding back into me hard.

You’ve no more patience now. You’re pounding me hard, pushing my ass down against the wood. The table is creaking and swaying back and forth with us. It probably would have gone sliding across the house with the power of your thrusts, but each time you slide back into me, you pull my hips up hard against you, momentarily supporting my weight and making sure the full force of your fuck is felt by me and me alone.

I’m moaning and panting wildly into your jock strap. Its smell is making me feel even more euphoric and lightheaded and I’m already planning to steal these and keep them with me for when you’re not around.

You slow your thrusts a bit and pull a chair out from the table. You pull me close, your cock only half in me now, and sit back on the chair. As you pull me down the full length of your cock slides back into me with the force of my weight coming down on your lap. I throw my head back and moan in pain and pleasure at the feeling.

“Show daddy how you work that ass,” you say, leaning back with your hands resting behind your head.

I plant my hands on the edge of the table and twerk my ass up and down along the length of your shaft. I look down, but everything is covered under curtain of your ex-wife’s dress, and the mystery of the magic happening behind it that I can feel and hear but can’t see makes it hotter somehow.

I never thought I could pull this move off. It’s taking all my strength not to collapse on the floor right there. But in my desire to please you, I’m able to muster up more strength and coordination than I ever have been before. I’m so focused on this, I’m not even concerned with my own pleasure. So much so that my own cock goes limp, flopping around against my stomach as I bounce up and down your cock.

I get the hang of it, and I’m lost in the rhythm, almost like a dance, with no music. I love the feeling of the dress’s cloth falling down around my ass and down my legs.

I hear you groan and lean forward, pressing your chest against my back. Your entire cock is buried in me, and I can’t fuck the full length anymore, but I’m still grinding and twisting, give you as much pleasure as I can.

You grab my wrists from the table and pull them behind me. You squeeze my wrists together painfully in one hand and with the other you pull the jock strap from my mouth and use it to tie my wrists together.

You thrust your cock up into me and use the force to lift me into the air as you stand up. You’re holding me by my upper arms, my lower body supported entirely but your throbbing cock. I’m virtually floating there, above the floor, and you fuck me now by swinging my body back and forth by my arms.

Even if I wanted to help you support my weight, I’m depleted. I have no more strength left but the feeling of being thrown around like a rag doll turns me on and my cock is throbbing again as its swinging around wildly in the air of your kitchen.

I probably would have cum hands free with a few more minutes of this, but suddenly you turn and slam my body back on the table. With my hands still tied behind me, there’s nothing to break the impact, so I feel a sting of pain run down my cheek.