SILKTRAP.TXT by Cindy V Femdom, TV, humiliation
"Do we have Microsoft Access on our computer, Alex?" my wife Mary yelled up to me from the kitchen.
I was upstairs in the den, on the computer, surfing the web. Well, to be more honest, surfing for, shall we say, adult sites. My sex life with Mary was OK - there's nothing wrong with the missionary position - but Mary was completely disinterested in anything a little kinkier. I fulfilled my wider sexual interests by visiting adult sites. Mary did not know this, and I arranged the computer facing the door so she could not sneak up on me and catch me.
"Yes we do have Access," I yelled back down. It came as part of a suite of software, although as a spreadsheet and word processor guy I had never used it myself. But it was a strange question coming from Mary, who at most used the computer for e-mail or to chat with friends. "Why are you asking?"
"Oh that was Linda on the other phone. She is doing some sort of volunteer project for church and she says she needs to use Access," Mary yelled upstairs in reply.
That made sense. Linda is Mary's sister. Linda always had a number of projects going on simultaneously. Whether she was networking with other rising female business executives, speaking at the high school on women in business, or chairing a committee at church, Linda was always busy.
"She wants to know if she can come over Thursday night at 8 for a couple of hours to use it," Mary yelled again. "I have a business dinner that night, but you'll be home, right Dear?" she asked.
"Sure that's fine," I yelled back. Thursday at 8 really was fine. I wouldn't be using the computer then because I'd be watching TV. Uh, well - I'm a closet wrestling fan. It's not politically correct among educated people to admit this, is it? Yes, I know it's fake. But I still like it. And those women are so strong and gorgeous. Nowadays the women sometimes wrestle against the men in mixed tag team matches. When a woman gets the better of a man - even if it's all staged and rehearsed - well, I find that pretty erotic. So Linda was more than welcome to use the computer then. Of course she would tease me for watching wrestling.
Thursday night came, and just as I settled in to my easy chair to watch TV, the doorbell rang. I got up to let my sister-in-law in.
I gave Linda a brotherly peck on the cheek, and she gave me her million-dollar smile. I sneaked a peak at her. She was in a shirt, jeans and sneakers, her long blonde hair was in a ponytail, and she wore no makeup. But even casually dressed, she was a fine looking woman. My wife is nice enough looking, but her sister is a step above. Linda's jeans were a little tight and showed off her curves. She mischievously had one shirt button too many open, showing the faintest amount of cleavage to what I guessed were magnificent breasts. Linda works out and always dresses meticulously to her advantage. You should see her in her tailored business suits at work, her thick long straight hair flowing down her back, and her subtle makeup drawing your attention to her enormous eyes.
We chatted for a few minutes, as she shifted her pile of papers from one arm to the other. She glanced at the TV, saw what was on, and sighed her disappointment at me. Then she said she was going upstairs to do the church inputting, and asked if it was OK if she dialed into the Internet when she was done. "Sure, no problem," I replied, and went back to watching wrestling.
Linda pretty much left me in peace for an hour, coming downstairs a couple of times for an apple and a diet soda and to take a break from inputting. She happened to be downstairs as a female wrestler got her male opponent rolled up in an awkward position, and was able to pin him. Linda looked over at me with a smirk on her face. "I don't suppose Mary would do that to you, would she Alex?" she asked, waiting for my verbal reaction although peaking at my physical reaction. I had found the wrestling sequence erotic and I think Linda knew this.
"Nothing personal Linda, but I don't think I care to discuss my sex life," I managed to reply politely, afraid that Linda was figuring out something of my submissive fantasies from observing me during the wrestling match.
"I see," Linda said, not revealing to me what she had been thinking. Linda went back upstairs.
Linda came back down about a half an hour later. "All done?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied, "And thank you for the use of your computer. But Alex, I had a little question about something on the Internet. Do you know anything about a website named 'Darkheart'?"
"No, I don't think so," I replied nervously.
"I think the address is http://www.darkheart.com" Linda explained innocently.
"I had a question about it. I have the website up right now. Would you come upstairs and take a look at it with me?" she asked innocently, nearly batting her pretty eyelashes at me.
Now I was confused. I knew very well what 'Darkheart' is, and its name has nothing to do with its content. I was confused about why Linda knew about it, and why she had it up right now. We went upstairs to the computer.
Sure enough, the computer screen showed the opening page for 'Darkheart'. There were two banners: one for 'Those We Worship: The Virtual Temple to Dominant Women', and one for 'The Silken Trap: kneel, obey, become the girl of your dreams.'
"Look familiar, Alex?" Linda asked innocently.
I studied the screen seriously. "No, I don't think so," I lied.
"I see," she replied. "Well, just for fun, and not that it really means anything, if you were going to pick one of the two choices, which would you pick?" she continued in her innocent tone.
I could feel the trap closing around me. "Just for fun?" I asked. "Oh, I don't care - pick the second one."
Linda clicked on 'The Silken Trap.' The next screen had some text about forced feminization and showed a picture of a pretty woman adjusting the gag on what was possibly a crossdressed male. I shrugged, as if this didn't interest me at all. "Let's click on 'Enter' and see where it takes us," Linda suggested. "Just for fun."
She clicked again. There was the famous photo 'Pucker.' A pretty but tough-looking woman with slicked back hair was smoking a cigarette and calmly applying lipstick to a guy who looked like his hands were bound over his head. I had seen that photo many times over the years, and in truth I have always considered it the single most erotic photo on the Internet I have ever seen.
We both shrugged our shoulders, neither of us claiming to understand why people would want to bother looking at such an image.
Further down the screen there was some discussion that the rest of the website was protected by an adult verification service, and that we would have to enter a password if we wanted to continue.
"Damn," said Linda. "I wonder what the rest of the site is like. I certainly don't have one of these passwords. Do you, Alex?" she asked me.
"No, of course not, Linda," I lied. She had stumbled on one of my favorite websites, but without a password, this was where her little exploration would have to end.
"Well, just for fun, why don't I try a few random combinations?" she asked.
I smiled slightly when I heard this. Finally I seemed safe from Linda and from potential exposure of my little secret online fantasies.
Linda typed an unintelligible string of characters, and of course the adult verification service responded with a message saying the password was invalid. She tried again, with the same result. She frowned a very pretty frown. "Well, let me try one more, and if this doesn't work I'll give up," she said.
She typed in one more password. As she typed each character slowly, I came to a horrible realization: she was typing in my password! Since it had my name 'Alex' within it, I could hardly deny that it was mine.
"Well, what do you know, Alex? This one seemed to work."
I was dumbstruck and said nothing.
"Anything you'd like to say, Alex?" she asked me.
"Uh, well, I, ...," I stammered, but what could I say?
"Admit it Alex. Not only do you have one of these adult passwords, but I happen to know that you are a regular visitor to this 'Silken Trap' website," Linda demanded.
"Well, OK, so I have an adult password," I admitted. "But how did you find it? And how would you know what websites I have visited?" I asked, finally feeling I had a little of the offensive in this inquisition.
"Sweetie," she said derisively, "you may be spending your free time with these adult websites, but I know more about computers than you'll ever know." Obviously she was not going to answer my questions.
"Not only do I know that you visit this site and that other 'Those We Worship' site about once a week each, but I know that you have downloaded about every picture on the two sites." Linda had her hands on her hips as she made these accusations. I was speechless. Her every word was true. I thought I had buried my downloaded photo collection deep enough through arcanely named subdirectories, but she had found them.
"I bet my sister would love to know all about your little hobby."
"No, you wouldn't do that to me, Linda, would you?" I pleaded. I cringed. Mary would never understand.
"Isn't there anything I can do to get you to keep this quiet from Mary?" I begged. "Please, I'll do anything."
Linda thought about this for a long time. The silence was killing me. Finally she smiled a tiny smile. "I'll tell you what," she said. "Mary is going away next week for an overnight conference, right? She won't be home at all next Thursday night? I have a friend who has been bugging me for months to host sort of a Tupperware party for a few women. How about if we have it here? And you will be our waiter, serving us wine and hors d'oeuvres. Do you agree?"
"And if I agree, then you promise not to tell Mary?"
"I promise," said Linda. "If you are a good waiter. I will be here with the wine and food at 7 p.m. to show you what we need."
"7 p.m. next Thursday, that sounds fair," I said, relieved that she was going to keep my secret. "Thank you so much, Linda." And I hugged her.
"Very well," Linda said sternly. She kissed me on the cheek, and walked downstairs to leave. "See you in a week."
I was relieved. So I would serve her and her girlfriends some wine and cheese. Big deal. Anything to keep this from Mary.
During the week I decided I had better clean up my computer. I deleted 'Silken Trap' from my bookmarked favorites. Or so I thought. For some reason the deletion did not take. I compressed my photos and put them in a zip file, and then I deleted the original photos. But for some reason the deletion of the photos did not take either. Very strange.
Next Thursday came, and Linda arrived on time at 7 p.m. She was again dressed very casually, in jeans and low-heeled shoes, although she was wearing makeup which she had not worn a week ago. She asked me to bring in the wine and food from her car, while she brought in a tiny bag. I did this, and she showed me how she wanted things set up. I uncorked several bottles of wine and got the wine glasses out. I cut up some cheese and put it out on the cheeseboard. I took out some napkins and the good plates, and I was ready for Linda and her friends. Or so I thought.
"Alex, you didn't give much thought to dressing for tonight, did you?" Linda asked, as she appraised my outfit of a sport shirt and Dockers. I agreed that I had not thought about it.
"You're the waiter tonight, Alex. A servant. In fact, you're supposed to be subservient. You don't look very subservient. Do you feel subservient, Alex?"
I shook my head No. I didn't like where this was going.
"I think it would help if we dressed you in a way that emphasized your subservience tonight," Linda decided. "I don't suppose you own a tuxedo?" she asked. I told her I didn't.
"OK, quickly, before my guests arrive. Take off your clothes. All of them. And give them to me." She said this in such a commanding tone and clapped her hands twice that it never occurred to me to do anything else. I handed her my clothes, covering my privates as best I could, expecting her somehow to produce a tuxedo. Instead she reached into the small bag she had brought with her, produced a pair of panties, and handed them to me. They were silky to touch. If they had been black I might have deluded myself that they were men's underwear, but these were pink with floral designs. There was no question that they were women's panties.
"I can't wear these," I stammered.
"You can and you will," Linda demanded. Unless you want to greet my guests stark naked!"
I sheepishly put on the panties. They were too small, and fit me very tightly. But the silkiness of them was something I had never experienced, and they felt wonderful. I was feeling almost dizzy.
"Snap to it, Alex," Linda said with a sly smile, as she no doubt understood the effect the panties were having on me. "You don't think you're going to appear in front of my friends in just a pair of panties do you? Let me cover you up."
She reached into her bag and pulled out an apron. This was not a macho men's barbecue apron; it was white and lacy and dainty, and was clearly a maid's apron. I felt ridiculous as she stood behind me and tied the apron on me with a bow in the back. It reached from my waist to the bottom of my panties, not much longer. I could smell her perfume as she was tying it on me. She smoothed the apron in front of me, gently moving her hand over my panty covered penis, and I was becoming aroused, forgetting about the embarrassing outfit she had put me in.
A ring of the doorbell brought me back to life. "Answer the door Alexander," Linda commanded quietly, using my formal name.
I gave her a questioning look, hoping this had all been her little joke and that she was not really going to make me go through with this. But her serious demeanor told me she expected me to go through with this. I opened the door.
On the other side of the door was an attractive woman with dark shoulder length hair, about six feet tall. She was impeccably dressed as if she had just come from work. She carried herself with a regal manner, gave me a contemptuous glance, and let herself in when she found Linda. She and Linda hugged like long-time friends, which I assumed they were. Linda introduced her friend as Yvonne, did not introduce me by name at all, and told me to take Yvonne's coat. Linda and Yvonne chatted, paying no attention to me at all. Yvonne did not find it strange to be in the presence of a male who was naked except for the apron and panties.
The doorbell rang several more times. Next to arrive was a very pretty woman with short, straight blonde hair and a bold shade of red lipstick. Her name was Tara. You have to have supreme confidence in your beauty to wear a lipstick that red. After that came a woman with long brown wavy hair and elaborately made-up eyes; this was Gloria, and I think she was Hispanic. Last came a woman with short red hair and glasses, but very cute; Linda introduced her as Lois. The women all knew Linda, but they did not know each other. They chatted for a while, easily finding common interests. They were all thirty-ish single business executives, and soon the topic turned to the inadequacies of the male species.
"And speaking of which, Alexander?" Linda called out.
"When were you planning on asking my guests what kind of wine they would like?" she asked me. "Honestly," she turned to her friends, "you can't get good help nowadays."
I asked each woman for her wine order. I blushed as I felt their eyes look me up and down. I heard them whisper about me as I went to the kitchen to get their wine, and I tried to avoid their eyes as I served them.
This went on for some time, as the five women munched on cheese and kept me hopping to refill their wine glasses. As they drank more and more wine, the women got bolder with me. They lifted my apron and teased me about my pretty panties, and they admired my bulge and patted it. They asked me if I liked wearing panties, although the bulge made the answer obvious, and they asked me if I enjoyed serving a group of horny women.
With that the doorbell rang. "It's about time that boy came with the pizzas," Linda announced. "Get the door, Alexander."
I had a horrified look on my face. It was bad enough to parade around a group of women dressed as I was, but to appear before a teenaged boy was a different matter. But Linda giggled at my discomfort. "No, I didn't order pizza, Alexander. Let the Tupperware lady in."
I breathed a sigh of relief. I opened the door to find a pretty woman with streaked blonde hair, a bright red jacket and a black miniskirt. She had three huge zippered leather bags that she thrust in my arms with a quick, "Would you bring these in for me Honey?" She just walked right in and hugged Linda before I could even invite her in. Linda introduced her as Karen, the Tupperware lady, and Karen quickly shook hands with all of the other women. Karen was one of these women with boundless energy and personality, and even I liked her at once.
Karen got right down to business. "Who's ready for some Tupperware fun?" she asked. The women got all excited about this. To tell the truth, I didn't get it. Why would these five beautiful women care about Tupperware?
"OK, where should we do this?" asked Karen, as she gathered her leather bags. Linda suggested we go upstairs, so the women followed her up with their wine glasses. "You come too Alexander," Linda commanded.
We assembled in the computer room. Karen said we need a volunteer to test the merchandise, and she asked each of us to hold our hands straight out, palms up, pinkies together. She examined each woman's hands, looking for what - cleanliness? She kept rejecting each woman's hands. What was this - sterilized Tupperware? Finally she had rejected all five women's hands, and she examined mine. She smiled and said, almost reluctantly, that mine would have to do.
Then quick as a flash, before I knew what was happening, Karen produced a length of rope and put my hands through a slipknot that she had pre-tied. She tightened the knot around my wrists, pulled me towards the door, tossed the loose end of the rope over the door, pulled taut, and tied the end of the rope to the doorknob on the other side of the door. The women giggled at my helplessness and applauded Karen with how quickly she had subdued me.
Karen turned me around so my back was to the door and then spoke to me in a low but not inaudible voice. "Shhh. Don't tell anybody, but we're really not here for a Tupperware party." The women thought that was hysterical, as I burned in embarrassment.
Then addressing the women, Karen asked, "So who has ever experimented with S&M toys?" I was surprised that all five women raised their hands. Suddenly I remembered that Linda had promised, in her words, "sort of" a Tupperware party, and that this was exactly that, except that Karen was not demonstrating Tupperware. In fact, I was going to be the demonstrator.
"Now wait a minute," I objected. "You can't do this to me ..." But before I could say another word, Karen had placed some sort of ball in my mouth and strapped it around my head.
"There are many kinds of ball gags," Karen explained. A lot of people like to silence their men with rubber ball gags, but as you can see this is more like a plastic golf ball sized wiffle ball. Notice the many holes in the ball. With this kind of gag he can always breathe through his mouth. Plus the ball is too big for him to swallow accidentally. Safety first, ladies."
She was right. Although I panicked when she first gagged me, I could breathe through my mouth. I certainly couldn't speak though.
"I like it when I don't have to listen to a man," said Yvonne with a laugh.
"Next I'd like to show you some different kinds of ropes," Karen said. Karen reached into her bags and produced several small lengths of nylon rope. She passed one around. "Notice that these are thick and smooth." She tied one of them around my ankles. "Too thin and they will cut into the skin. Too rough and they will chafe. You don't want to just use any rope. I can give you a very good price on the kind of rope I use." Karen was certainly quite the expert.
She untied and removed my apron, and then tied me with several more lengths of rope. One went just above my knees. Then she tied me around my waist, around the middle of my chest, and around my upper chest. Next a long thin rope went around my neck, loosely so as not to choke me, with one strand in front of me intersecting the ropes around my chest and waist to make sure those ropes didn't slip up or down. She fondled my panty-covered penis, and she continued the end of the rope around my balls through the panties. The rope then went behind me, centered in my ass crack in the back, and she tied it in the back.
"You need a thinner strand of rope if it's going to circle the balls. Come close and take a good look, ladies," Karen encouraged.
There was a moveable floor-length mirror, and Linda moved it so I could see myself. The ropes were clean and neat, and I was very effectively immobilized. Each woman came over to me and examined me as if I were an inanimate object. They felt the ropes and me, especially the rope around my balls, sipping their wine, not speaking to me because after all, I could not speak back. It was very humiliating.
"I'm not sure I am going to remember exactly how you tied him," Lois said. "No problem at all," Karen responded, as she took out a small Polaroid camera and shot a picture of me. "I'll make copies for everyone," she promised. I groaned through my gag.
"What next?" asked Gloria.
"Now I realize you can buy clothespins at any hardware store," continued Karen, "but look at these." She pulled out a small bag of clothespins. "These are plastic, not wooden, and they are bright colors. I mean, what fun would it be to use all the same color?" The women giggled at that question. "Would someone tease his nipples a little bit?"
Tara stepped forward and emotionlessly circled my nipples with her very red lips. "How's that?" she asked the group, with as much enthusiasm as if she had tossed aside a newspaper. I felt differently; I moaned as both my nipples and my penis responded to this very beautiful woman toying with me. I saw my image in the mirror, and some of Tara's red lipstick had rubbed off on my nipples.
"Who would like to place some clothespins on his nipples?" asked Karen. Yvonne jumped at the chance to do so. She watched my face as she clipped them on me. I tried to scream through my gag, but only a muffled sound came out. Karen then pulled my balls out from my panties. "Now put a few on his balls, but remember to alternate the colors," she said. One by one Yvonne circled my balls with colorful clothespins. Each one hurt more than the previous one, and tears were falling from my eyes.
Karen then handed out a variety of dildos. They were different shapes and sizes, as well as being either flesh tone or black. "If it amuses you to watch him squirm, then feel free to enjoy yourself with the dildos," she offered. Several women lowered their jeans and did just that. I had a good view of them, which aroused me, and me made me feel the clothespins even more.
"Just a few more minutes with the clothespins," Karen warned. "We don't want to cut off his circulation and do any real damage."
The women were in various states of arousal with the dildos. Some were slowly teasing themselves on the outside of their clothes, while others were vigorously pumping themselves in and out with them. The female scent in the room was very strong. I found it strangely exciting to see these women masturbating themselves just inches away from me, and the clothespins dug into me even more as my penis grew.
Finally Karen removed my clothespins one by one. I don't know if it hurt worse without them than with them on. Karen checked my nipples and balls that they had not become numb. She also loosened and removed my gag. I exercised my jaw a little, which had grown stiff. Unfortunately my mouth was not to be free for all, for Karen encouraged the women to use my mouth to clean off the dildos that the women had used. They teased me mercilessly as I sucked their dildos, asking if I had experience in this and whether they should arrange the real thing for me. Each woman had her own unique taste, and sucking the dildos was especially humiliating.
"What next?" asked Lois.
"Why don't we ask poor Alexander what he'd like next?" suggested Karen. "Well, not really 'ask'. Let's let him vote with his penis."
Linda must have been waiting for an opening like that. "I know. Let's visit his favorite website, take a look at the pictures, and try them out on Alexander. His penis will tell us which one he really likes best," she said.
I had forgotten about what had gotten me into this predicament, but it was 'The Silken Trap.'
"Let's see," said Linda. "What was that Internet address again?" she asked herself. "Oh, yes, now I remember. You start out with http://www.darkheart.com," she remembered, as she logged on the Internet and keyed it in that address.
"Actually, we could take a look at the favorite sites he has bookmarked and find lots of his R-rated sites. They all seem to involve some sort of submissive behavior," Linda told the group, embarrassing me even more. "He tried to erase his list of favorites, but I fixed his list so that he could not erase it." The women chuckled as they examined my list of favorite sites.
The screen got to the place where it asked for the adult verification password. "I happen to know Alexander's password," Linda explained. "Come closer and let me show you how easy it is to find it. You see, the computer keeps a file of passwords, and all you have to do is ..." At that point she whispered to the gathered women how she found my password. I strained in my bonds, but I could not hear how she did it.
"Wow, that's so easy," exclaimed Lois. "I have to try that with my boyfriend's computer."
Linda was now in the 'Silken Trap' website. She explained that there were several categories of photos: forced feminization, transexuals, maid service, and user gallery. She clicked through each category, and invited the women to pick out a few photos to try out for me.
With great debate they picked out a large number of photos. Linda was having trouble getting them to agree to just a few photos.
"Do we have to download these photos to Alexander's computer?" Gloria asked.
"Ordinarily that might be true," said Linda. "But not for this pervert. He's already downloaded everything on this website. Here, I'll show you."
Linda brought up my graphics viewing program. She quickly clicked to my subdirectory of photos I had downloaded from websites such as this one. I don't know how she found it - I had buried this subdirectory several levels deep, under directories with innocuous sounding names. One by one my screen filled with photos I had downloaded. All photos of dominant women and guys being put into humiliating situations.
"By the way, he tried to delete these files so we wouldn't see them. Unfortunately I added my own password so that he couldn't delete them," Linda added smugly.
Linda clicked my computer keyboard some more. She took the three photos her friends had selected and copied them into a new subdirectory.
They pushed the computer screen closer to me so I could see the first two photos.
"This is a photo of a bound guy, dressed as a female, and his girlfriend is watching him suck another guy's thick cock. Then in the next photo, the second guy has cum all over the first guy's face."
"Too bad we don't have another guy here to see how much Alexander would enjoy that," said Yvonne.
"I could call my boyfriend Emanuel and have him come over," volunteered Gloria. "If we could blindfold him so he didn't know Alexander was sucking him off, I'm sure Emanuel would go for it.
Linda felt my cock. I thought this idea was humiliating, but in some sense I have to admit I found it exciting too. My cock stirred. "That's certainly one possibility," Linda admitted.
Linda clicked to another photo.
"This is a photo of a bound guy bent over a chair about to get spanked by his girlfriend. Let's put Alexander in the same position," Linda suggested.
They untied me from my hands overhead and from my numerous bonds. They leaned me over a chair and made me grab the legs of the chair with my hands, which they promptly tied. They spread my legs far apart and tied them to some furniture. They bound me securely to the chair from numerous points. My ass was exposed, and I was completely immobile. I could see the photo on the computer. A guy was bound exactly as I was, with one woman reddening his ass with a paddle as a number of women watched with great amusement.
"I have a paddle just like the one in the picture," Karen volunteered. "Who wants to try it?"
Everyone raised her hands. Linda decided to give each woman a turn.
Lois took the first few swings, and although her swats stung, they were not too bad. Karen then explained that there are ways to get more action for the same amount of effort. She showed how to swing with her hips, and she really laid into me. Now I was grunting with each swat, and I could feel my ass warm up. Yvonne swung next, and Karen suggested aiming for the area of my ass just above the legs. Yvonne used her height to advantage and each spank sounded like an explosion. Tara was next, and Karen told her to aim for my inner thighs. Although this seemed like a fleshy area with plenty of protection, Tara soon had me crying like a baby. Gloria was next and went for the meaty part of my ass. Gloria wailed away with all her might, and I was crying with each spank. Gloria patted my ass when she was done and teased me about how warm and red it was.
Linda saved herself for last. She checked my cock, and she announced that despite my cries I must have been enjoying myself. She reached underneath at my balls and aimed her paddle there. Fortunately she did not swing very hard, and maybe she really only tapped them, but the pain was excrutiating and I thought I was going to faint. I had never realized how sensitive the balls really are. The women howled in laughter at my discomfort. But she was the last, and I was grateful that they were done spanking me.
The women released me from the chair, and Linda retied me with my hands overhead, over the door. If not for the way I was tied, I don't think I could have stood. My nipples hurt, my ass was sore, and my balls were in pain.
"Here's the final photo we chose," Linda announced. "It's the photo of a guy bound with his hands above him, with a tough looking woman applying lipstick to him."
"That wouldn't turn you on, dear, would it?" she asked me sweetly.
I looked at the computer screen, and it was my old favorite 'Pucker.' Regardless of how worn out I was from all the spanking, 'Pucker' never failed to get a rise out of me. My penis twitched involuntarily, and they all saw it and tittered. "Tara, you probably wear the reddest shade. Would you mind if we borrowed your lipstick for a minute?" Linda asked.
Tara shrugged her shoulders and went downstairs.
"You know what else might be fun?" Linda asked. "Karen, would you get your camera?"
"Oh no, Linda, you're not going to do what I think you are," I begged.
"Dear, you think you know, but you can't imagine what I'm going to do," Linda replied with a twinkle.
Tara returned with the lipstick. Linda unscrewed it with her right hand and held my chin firmly with her left. "Smell it Alexander," she commanded as she waved it under my nose. "Or shall we call you Alexandra?"
Tara's lipstick had an intoxicating aroma. I loved its smell.
"Pucker up, sweetie," said Linda triumphantly. I was too exhausted to resist.
And as the women cheered and jeered, Linda stroked the red lipstick over my lips. She explained every little step; how she emphasized the points of my lips, how she made my lips just a little fuller than they naturally were, and how she made sure the lipstick filled in all the way to the corners of my mouth.
Karen took a Polaroid picture of Linda applying the lipstick to me. I was so humiliated, but meanwhile I thought my cock would burst.
"Ooooh, how hot and sexy you look Alexandra," Gloria teased. "It's not too late to get my boyfriend over here, you know. He'd love those luscious red lips on his cock." I felt myself blushing. I hoped she was kidding; they wouldn't make me do that, would they?
"That is tempting, but I have a better idea on how to embarrass our little Alexandra," said Linda, as the picture developed.
Linda smiled as she examined the picture. "Quite a pretty picture," she said with glee. "You have such nice lips," she said to me. "You should wear lipstick more often," she teased. "And you shouldn't just share how pretty you are with only us." She turned on my computer scanner and scanned the photo. She clicked the computer mouse a couple of times in the 'Silken Trap' website.
"Don't you remember ladies?" she asked, as I could see her loading my e-mail program. "'Silken Trap' has a user gallery where people can send in their own photos! I think I'll name this 'Pucker Number Two!'"
END