My Boss My Master

All comments or criticism welcome: mitchcapslock@yahoo.com

My Boss, My Master: New rules, new life By Mitchell Capslock

The message light was already blinking when I got to my desk Tuesday morning.

"Mitch, this is Wendy. Mr. Compton asked that I remind you of your 4 p.m. meeting this afternoon in his office."

Forget? It was all I had thought of since I left his office, the taste of his cum coating my throat. It was what I had fantasized about after I locked myself in the men's room, dropped my pants and jerked off before going home to my wife.

I tried to concentrate on work the rest of the day, but the beating of my heart and the stiffness in my pants were hard to ignore.

At promptly 4, I opened the outer door to Mr. Compton's office and said hello to his assistant. Wendy looked up, smiled at me and used the intercom to announce my arrival to Mr. Compton.

"Send him in," Mr. Compton's voice said through the speaker on her desk. "And, Wendy, Mitchell and I may be awhile, so just turn on the answering machine and you can cut out early. I'll see you in the morning."

I let myself into his office as Wendy gathered her things and left, locking the outer door behind her. I stood in front his desk, in exactly the same spot as the day before.

Mr. Compton, who was reading some papers, did not look up at me. Nor did he offer me a seat, and as I had the day before, I did not presume to sit.

Finally, he put aside the papers and looked up.

"Tell me, Mitchell, did you enjoy our time together?" he asked, and I nodded my answer. "Good, because that was just the start. Take off your clothing, please."

As I complied, Mr. Compton continued.

"I don't think you are being true to yourself, Mitchell. You can't get the satisfaction you desire through typical sexual encounters with your wife. You need to submit, Mitchell. To me."

"Submit, sir?" I asked.

"Yes. Submit. You will focus on satisfying my sexual needs, whenever and however I say. Do you understand? Everything will be done to please me. How you dress, what you say, everything will be to please me."

I tried to find words, but I could not. I nodded in agreement.

"Let's go over some basics," my boss said. "Since you want to act like a woman, sucking dick and eating cum, you have lost the right to dress as a man."

The fear on my face must have been obvious. I was not prepared to become a cross-dresser.

"Dont worry," Mr. Compton said. "For now, we will start with your undergarments. From now on, when you are in this office or may be in my presence, I expect that you will wear panties."

Mr. Compton reached into his desk and pulled out a sack from an underwear store from the mall. He tossed it to me. Inside I found a pair of white stretch lace boyshorts.

"I bought those for you," he said.

I didn't wait to be told. I slipped them on and pulled them up. My cock, which had bee laying limp as I stood there, stiffened and pushed against its lacy surrounding.

"So you like that?" Mr. Compton said. "Look at your little man clit. But I see a problem, Mitchell. Pretty panties don't look as nice with all that hair. I expect you to be smooth the next time I see you."

I panicked again.

"Sir, how will explain that to my wife?"

"That is your fucking problem," Mr. Compton snapped. "Would you rather explain that, or the whole story?"

I nodded my understanding of his demand. But then he surprised me.

"I've changed my mind. I want you to leave a small 'landing strip' just above your little man clit, just like the sluts in the porn movies have," he said. "Then, every time you look down, you will be reminded that your body is for my pleasure."

He stood and began removing his clothes.

"I assume that you are a virgin," he said. "You have never had a cock in your pussy, have you?"

I shook my head. He grinned.

"I am excited to take your cherry," he said. "If I had some lube, I would do it today."

My panty-covered cock twitched at the thought. I may have been inexperienced, but that didn't mean I wasn't eager for a good hard fucking.

Mr. Compton finished undressing, laying his clothes neatly across his chair, and turned back to me. I couldn't take my eyes off his cock, as it swung freely between his legs. Even soft, it was impressive and nearly as long as my cock was fully erect. He walked past me, opened a cabinet near the seating area at the far end of his office and poured himself a drink.

He took a seat on a black leather couch.

"Come here, Mitchell," he said.

I didn't need to be told what to do. I dropped to my knees between his open thighs and kissed the head of his cock. It stirred and sprang to life, as I planted kisses along the stiffening shaft.

I slipped my lips over the head of his cock and swirled my tongue. I let the shaft slide into my mouth, slowly taking more and more until I could feel the tickle of my gag reflex starting to kick in. I withdrew, allowing all but the tip of his dick to escape before starting slowly down again. I reached between his legs and cradled his heavy balls, massaging them slightly as I worked his dick in and out of my mouth.

Mr. Compton pushed his hips forward, until he was barely sitting on the edge of the couch.

"Lick my balls," he said.

I let his shaft slip from my mouth and slap against his abdomen. I kissed my way down his shaft to his testicles, which I kissed and licked. I'd never had anyone lick me that way, and I was slightly unsure what to do.

I sucked and nibbled at them, hoping he he was enjoying my efforts. I glanced up to see that he was watching me as I worked his balls.

"Now, eat my ass," he demanded, spreading his legs. "I want to feel your little slut tongue on my hole."

I gently lifted his ball sack before running my tongue along his perineum toward the crack of his ass. As my tongue dipped between his cheeks, Mr. Compton let out a soft moan. He gripped the back of my head, guiding me to his secret spot.

My tongue fluttered across his asshole, eliciting more moans of approval. As I licked and gently probed his backside with my tongue, I reached for his shaft.

My saliva and his precome provided plenty of lube for a slow, sensual stroke. I worked his asshole with quick, sharp movements, while giving his dick slow, deliberate strokes.

"That's it, lick my ass," he said between moans. "Show me how much you love to be my slut."

I kept it up for a few minute, and by his moans, I wondered if Mr. Compton would cum. Finally, he pushed me away and I sat between his knees, my eyes focused on his cock bobbing in the air in front of me.

I leaned in and pushed his erection back toward his abdomen, while running my tongue along the underside of his shaft. Mr. Compton's breath caught in his throat, a sure sign of his approval.

I cocked my head slightly and used my lips and tongue to stroke his shaft from the base of his cock to the head. As his breathing increased, so did my pace.

"I'm coming," he said, and I worked faster, feeling his shaft pulse as he unleashed a load onto his belly. When my ministrations because too much, he pushed me away.

"You liked that, didn't you?" he said after a minute. "You like stroking me with your mouth, making a mess all over my stomach?"

I had. My cock was pushing against the panties he's made me wear. I wanted badly to reach down and stroke myself.

It was as if he was reading my mind.

"Look at your stiff little clit," he said. "Do you want to stroke it? Do you want to cream your new panties?"

I nodded.

"Well, do it, slut," he commanded. "Show me how much eating my ass and sucking my dick turns you on."

I reached into my white boyshorts. As i began to stroke, Mr. Compton scooped some of his come from his belly and pushed his fingers into my mouth. I sucked them greedily as I pumped myself toward orgasm.

It didn't take long. Within a minute or so, I moaned as loudly as I could with two fingers in my mouth and filled my pretty white panties with my load.

I fell back, and Mr. Compton stood over me.

"That will be all for today, Mitchell," he said. "Leave now. And don't forget what I have told you. I expect you to follow my rules to the letter. Trust me when I say that any failure to do so will bring severe punishment."

I gathered myself, pulled my suit pants on over my wet panties and headed for the door. Mr. Compton, who was dressing himself, did not look up as I left the room.

On the way home, I stopped off at a big-box retailer and purchased some shaving cream designed for the 'bikini area', a razor, and two pairs of satin bikini panties, one a light pink and the other a virginal white. I figured they would get me through a couple of days until I could get to a store that carried a nicer selection of sexy underwear. I threw a cheap NASCAR T-shirt over my selections and hastily made my way to the checkout.

Thank god the store had a self-checkout. I'm not sure I could have stood there, wearing my cummy panties, and watched a clerk ring up my things.

I stopped off at my gym, and headed for the locker room. There were some guys changing in the next row of lockers, so with my heart pounding, I shucked my suit and put on a pair of shorts and the T-shirt I'd just purchased.

After a quick workout, I stripped down, grabbed my shaving tools and headed for the far shower stall.

Following Mr. Compton's instructuons, I shave my crotch and balls, and attempted to blindly remove any hairs from my bottom. I left a 1/2 inch vertical strip above my penis, just as he had ordered.

I wrapped myself in a towel and quickly changed and left, stashing my new and dirty panties in my gym bag. Already it felt odd to be back in men's underwear.

As soon as I got home, I knew I had a problem. Amber gave me a much more forceful hello kiss than normal, and I was certain she would be coming to bed later with sex on her mind. How was I going to explain my nearly hairless crotch?

I stewed over my problem during dinner. Every story I came up with seemed ridiculous, something Amber would never believe. I crawled into bed while she went to shower. I didn't know what her reaction would be, but I doubted it would be good.

Sure enough, she sauntered into the bedroom wearing only her red lace boyshort panties, one of her "do me" pair.

As she slipped into bed, it occurred to me that her panties were almost exactly like mine.

She kissed me, pushing me onto my back. When she shifted her weight on top of me, I could feel the crush of her breasts on my chest and below, the top of her panties against my belly.

Amber wasn't in the mood for a long make-out session. She surprised me by sliding until she was sitting on my chest, her pussy just inches from my face. She scooted forward and I kissed her clit through the lace.

I puzzled her sex with my nose as I kissed and licked her. I could feel the wet warmth of her arousal spread, and soon her panties were soaked.

She didn't stay in them long, rolling off me long enough to peel away the red lace before pushing her pussy back into my face. At first, I let my tongue roam along her slit, licking her as she rotated her hips to move where she wanted.

But as her pace quickened, I zeroed in on her clit, licking and sucking gently at it.

It was all she needed.

"That's me. That's me. That's me," she moaned, rocking faster and faster on my face until she came.

After she had come down a bit, Amber rolled off me, letting her face fall into her pillow and presenting her perfect ass to me.

I forgot for the moment about my shaved junk and dropped my underwear and took my place behind her, slipping my dick into her wet pussy.

As I slowly fucked my wife, I thought about my afternoon with Mr. Compton, wearing panties at his behest and sucking his cock. While I couldn't imagine giving up pussy, I also couldn't wait to get my mouth back on his big cock. And then, to take him in my ass, to surrender it as my wife gave her pussy to me, well that was even more exciting. I was ready. I wanted it. I wanted his load inside me.

It didn't take long and I came in my wife. We collapsed together and soon fell asleep.

The next moening, I'd forgotten about my shaving job and jumped out of bed and headed for the shower. Amber was at the sink brushing her teeth when I stepped out.

"What the heck did you do?" She asked, pointing at my nearly bare crotch.

For perhaps the first time in my life, I came up with the perfect lie. I told Amber that I'd lost a bet to my old college buddy and occasional workout partner Tim.

Instead of money, Tim suggested we bet something more embarrassing, and one of the other guys suggested shaving. The bet stuck, I said.

"I picked the wrong team in the NBA finals," I said sheepishly.

Amber's face changed from horrified to bemused. Tim and I had made bets before. She bought my story.

"Oh my god, you have a landing strip," she said. "How long do you have to keep it?"

Thinking quickly, I told her the bet required me to keep it until the start of the NBA season in the fall. She seemed to buy it, suggesting I use her shave gel, so as not to get grown hairs.

Disaster averted, I dressed and headed to work. When I reached the office, I ducked into a restroom in the lobby and locked myself in a stall.

I retrieved my new panties from my gym bag. I slipped the pink satin bikinis on and pulled them up over my ass. They were snug, but not uncomfortable. I adjusted my cock and got redressed. Before heading upstairs, I quickly rinsed the boyshorts Mr. Compton had given me and stuffed them back in my gym bag.

Walking to the elevator, I noticed how the panties hugged my ass. I liked it.

I sat in my office all day, hoping to hear from Mr. Compton. By 4 p.m., there hadx bee no word. I guessed I would not be hearing from him.

About 10 minutes later, my desk phone rang. I didn't recognize the number on the Caller ID.

Mr. Compton was on the other end, calling from his cell phone.

"Mitchell, I'm in the parking garage. I have 25 minutes until I must leave to catch a flight," he said. "Come here."

I hustled from my desk and rode the elevator to the parking garage. There I found a Lincoln Towne Car sitting with the back door open.

Mr. Compton called to me, and I ducked into the car.

"I'm on my way to an out-of-town meeting," he said. "But I wanted to be sure you were following my orders. Take down your pants."

I glanced toward the smoky partition between the back seat and the driver. He likely couldn't see us, but I wasn't sure he couldn't hear us."

I undid my pants and pulled them down to reveal my pink panties.

"Let me see the rest," he said.

I pushed my pants to my knees and pulled down my panties far enough to show my bare crotch and landing strip. Mr. Compton smiled with delight.

"Good, good," he said.. "You have done very well. Would you like a treat?

"Please, sir," I replied, soaring at his praise.

Mr. Compton unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, stroking it to full-mast.

"You may suck me," he said. "But don't let any cum get on my suit. And hurry, I have to leave in just a moment."

I got up on all fours and grabbing his cock, stroking it as I leaned in to get it in my mouth. As I worked to jerk and suck him to an orgasm, he reached over me and grabbed my panty-covered bottom.

"I can hardly wait to fuck you," he said as I sucked. "I want to see the look on your face when you give your man cherry to me. I want fill your hole with my cum."

I moaned my approval, and pumped his dick faster. I didn't know when he would return or when he planned to fuck me. I knew this load of cum I was working to free from his balls would have to last me for awhile, at least.

Mr. Compton, squeezed my ass and pushed up from the seat. I felt his cock pulse in my mouth and I started swallowing. After four or five convulsions, his dick went still and he let go of my ass.

I worked quickly to clean his shaft before releasing him from my mouth and pulling up my pants.

As I crawled from the car and shut the door, Mr. Compton rolled down the window and called to me.

"I'll see you soon, Mitchell," he said. "Be ready."