On My Own Terms
Keywords: Own, Terms, On, My,
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Her name is Krystal, and she takes my breath away. It is as though some sculptor had chiseled a goddess from marble and then breathed life into his creation, like some modern-day Pygmalion. She is very tall, with legs that go on forever. She has full, rounded hips, a deliciously narrow waist, and full, rounded breasts. She has icy-blue eyes, high, prominent cheekbones, a straight, narrow nose, and a wide, luscious mouth. She is a beautician who owns her own salon and really knows how to use make-up to enhance her good looks. She knows all the new styles to flatter her shoulder-length blond hair.
We met at the health club. She complimented me on my slim, firm body. She stated she preferred my physique to that of the body-builders. With that kind of lead-in, naturally I asked her out. She gave me a strange, far-away look.
"Will you be willing to accept me on my own terms?"
"I would be willing to accept you on any terms."
"We'll see."
In spite of those ominous words, we had a wonderful time. The first date begat a second, then a third, and so on. We really tuned in to each other's wants, needs, and desires. It was only a matter of time before our relationship became intimate. Krystal is an aggressive lover and likes to take the active role in love-making. Although she does get off on intercourse (with her on top, controlling the action), she really goes crazy over oral sex. I can spend hours licking and sucking her clit, her big, firm boobs, and stiffly-erect nipples. She comes again and again and still comes back for more.
I learned that the key to her arousal is a light, gentle approach; rough handling turns her off like a light. I didn't tell her that I learned my soft approach through transvestism; I love to express my feminine side by dressing up as a woman and adopting a soft, passive personality. Over the years I have become fairly good at it, and this time my experiences paid off handsomely. Still, I saw no reason to bring the subject up; most people see it as "queer" and I didn't want to risk losing this woman over a personal kink.
We gradually introduced other variations into our love-making; light bondage, teasing and prolonged stimulation, and I partially sated my secret passions by allowing her to "discover" that I loved anal stimulation. One Friday afternoon, Krystal called me at work.
"Do you remember that I asked you if you could accept me on my own terms?"
"How could I forget something as dramatic as that? Why do you ask?"
"I have something special in mind that will affect the future of our relationship. I want you to come over for dinner tomorrow night. When you arrive, you must be prepared to surrender yourself completely to me, no questions asked. You will do whatever I request you to do, without reservation. Do you accept my invitation?"
This was definitely intriguing. The nature of our relationship had allowed her to be assertive before, but now she was being openly dominant. Most men would have felt threatened; but then, I wasn't most men.
"I accept your invitation without reservations and I will place myself completely in your hands. What time would you like me to arrive, and what shall I wear?
"Be there at Four o'clock, sharp. What you wear will not matter."
I rang the bell promptly at four the next afternoon. I wondered what new variation she had in mind that would cause her to leave the shop early on the busiest day of the week. After a brief wait, the door opened. I caught my breath. She was dressed in a long-sleeved, scoop-necked iridescent black spandex leotard which hugged every curve. Her nipples showed clearly through the flimsy material, as did her swollen labia. Her long, graceful legs ended in spike-heeled ankle boots. Her golden mane was pulled back and clasped in a comb. Her make-up was dramatic, provocative, and sensual.
She took my hand and gently pulled me inside, then closed the door behind me. Turning around, she stepped toward me and locked me in a tight embrace, thrusting the full length of her body against mine. She kissed me deeply, her tongue invading the deepest recesses of my mouth. Finally she stopped and lifted her eyes to meet mine.
"My darling Michael, you have promised to surrender yourself to me without conditions or reservations, that I may do with you as I wish. I will tell you that it will not involve pain and that we will both drive pleasure from it. Do you agree to these terms?"
"I have been ready since you asked me yesterday. I have been ready since the first time I laid eyes on you. Now, what am I ready for?"
"Something I have been looking forward to since the first time I laid eyes on YOU, my lovely Michael. I want you to indulge me in a fantasy of mine. I work all day making women beautiful; I do their hair, make-up, fingernails. I make them gorgeous, and then they go home to their husbands or lovers. It isn't fair! I do all the work, but I never get to enjoy the results. That is, not until now."
She caressed my cheek, gently scraping her nails against my skin in the way that sends shivers up and down my spine. She knows it, too. Her eyes never left mine.
"You are the first man who knows how to be really gentle with me. I really like someone who can be...well, feminine. You have a slim build, great features, and, best of all, a vivid imagination. You are a natural."
"A natural what?"
"Tonight, my love, I am going to work my magic on you. I am going to transform you into a beautiful woman, and this time I get to keep you all to myself!"
My heart was pounding madly in my chest. I couldn't be this lucky. Should I tell her all, or just play along?
"It sounds really erotic. When do we begin?"
"We already have. I couldn't help but notice that you keep your body smooth and hairless. I like that - and it will save a lot of time. Now, get out of your clothes and into the tub; I have a nice hot bubble bath waiting for you."
I was nude in an instant, and allowed her to lead me to the bathroom. I felt like screaming for joy. Her fantasy? This was MY fantasy! I stepped into the tub and sank slowly, letting the hot, scented water engulf me, soothe me, make me docile. She seemed pleased with my attitude; she smiled warmly and stroked my cheek again.
"You will be Michelle, my lovely girlfriend, for the rest of the evening. Relax now, and enjoy the feelings. I have a few details to attend to, not the least of which is our dinner, and then I will be back for you."
I soaked for perhaps half an hour. I felt as though I hadn't a care in the world. How far would she go with this? Will she find me attractive once I'm dressed, or will she be turned off? Is she really doing this for herself, or did she find out about me somehow? Whatever the answers were, I intended to make the most out of the opportunity.
She returned and reached down for my hand. I placed it in hers, then slowly, gracefully stood up and stepped out of the tub. She patted me dry with a big, fluffy towel. Then she produced a bottle of lotion and proceeded to apply it all over my body, gently massaging it in, until my skin was smooth and supple. She again took my hand and lead me to the bedroom, where she had my evening's attire laid out on the bed.
First, she selected a pair of black lace bikini panties and had me step into them. She pulled them up my legs and nestled them snugly around my hips, tucking my male parts down and backward into the cleft of my crotch. Then she wrapped a beautiful black satin corset around my torso and fastened the front busk. She whirled me around and proceded to tighten the laces ,whittling my already-narrow waist down to a hand-span. Then she fastened a black lace demi-bra around my chest, adjusted the straps and placed silicone-filled pads in the cups. She lifted my pectoral muscles and arranged them on top of the pads, and suddenly I had cleavage!
She handed me a pair of sheer black seamed stockings and told me to put them on. I took one, bunched it up carefully, inserted my foot gently into the toe and extended my leg, smoothing the gossamer material up my ankle, calf, knee, and thigh. I repeated the procedure for the other leg, then stood up. Krystal smiled warmly, made sure my seams were straight, then attached the stockings to the garters of my corset. She picked up a lovely ankle-length, sleeveless evening gown in a beautiful shade of red, and held it open for me to step into. It was gathered in front and had a plunging v neckline, and as she zipped it up, it clung snugly to my curves.
Next, Krystal had me step into a pair of red calfskin pumps with five inch stiletto heels and had me walk across the room to her vanity table. I was so excited, I felt like skipping across the room. Instead, I strutted over in short, sure-footed steps with my back straight, my shoulders back, and my head held high. I reached the stool and sat down gracefully, crossing my left leg over my right knee, calves close together, and the right foot slightly turned in. I faced the mirror and looked up, catching Krystal's eyes as she stood behind me.
I saw the knowing smile on her face and knew instantly that I had made a mistake; I was not supposed to know how to walk like a woman in high heels. As if reading my mind, Krystal reached out and cupped the sides of my face with her hands.
"I was right all along about you, Michelle. I sensed from the very beginning that you were no stranger to feminine feelings. Now it seems that you are no stranger to feminine apparel, as well. You slipped into your stockings as though you had been doing it all your life. You walk as gracefully in high heels as any woman - more so than most. Don't worry, my lovely one; I am not offended. In fact..."
She leaned over until I could feel her hot breath on my ear.
"...it's a real turn-on. Now, let's finish bringing out the woman in you."
She applied my make-up, allowing me to watch in the mirror while she worked. Throughout the process she kept telling me how good I looked, and how much she liked what I was becoming.
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Keywords: Own, Terms, On, My,