Date: Thu, 16 Jun 2011 12:45:01 -0700 (PDT)
From: Mitchell Capslock <mitchcapslock@yahoo.com>
Subject: My Boss, My Master, part 2

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."