kryptonite
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Jan 25, 2007
- Messages
- 112
- Points
- 0
(I would've continued this on the same thread but forgot to label it f/m.)
Our next time together, she introduced straps.
"It's hard for you to let me gitchy you," she said. "If you want, I can tie you up. Would you like that?"
I sat on the bed, shocked when she pulled the black straps out of the night stand drawer. I'd never pictured her so hard core. Our last time together seemed a little silly, and I assumed she didn't really take it seriously. But now she stood there, wearing a white nighty that didn't quite cover her unusually large bosoms, ready to take this to the next level.
I shook my head yes.
"Ok, lay back then," she said, taking charge in a teasing voice.
She got on her knees and straddled me, her bosoms hovering over me like giant, jiggling water balloons. And working quickly and decisively, she secured my wrists to the bed posts. She pulled her nighty off and the sight of her big bosoms, now completely nude, made me shake with intensity. Yet, fear also gripped me, the size of her bosoms began to intimidate me, and I felt my body, though not my erection, shrink in comparison.
Softly, she whispered, "gitchy, gitchy, goo," like it was some secret between us, which it was.
Again, she chose to begin tickling me under my chin.
She slightly raised her voice and repeated, "gitchy, gitchy, goo."
She rubbed my chest and neck, making me feel uncomfortable because this time I couldn't stop her hands. The relentless pressure made me squirm. I almost cracked.
"Gitchy, gitchy, goo," she said, a little louder this time, now fingering my ribs. I let out a groan. I was fighting it like mad this time, holding in the laughter building inside. But I had a curious feeling that I was shrinking in size, my pubic hair vanishing.
She raised her voice to the high soprano level.
"Gitchy, gitchy, goooo."
Finally, I giggled out but not like a man. I looked to my left, to my right. The straps were gone, my muscular arms were gone, replaced by baby arms. In a panic I realized I'd been transformed from man to baby. I tried to say something but words wouldn't form--all I could do was babble and giggle. Milk spouted from her bosoms, the liquid unexpectedly cold, shocking me, making me feel even more helpless. This cold stream tickled me more than her persistant fingers, and I laughed hard. There was only one way to stop the tickling stream, I thought. I lurched forward and closed my mouth on one of the nipples, but the stream of liquid entered me, tickling me from the inside out--an unbearable feeling.
The next thing I knew, I awoke from a nap, unrestrained, spooning Arlene. Dry semen stuck my penis to the back of her buttocks. The terror I felt replaced by relief.
*********************************************************
Arlene was true to her word--our relationship remained secret. She later encouraged me to date other woman closer to my own age. At a high school reunion I met an Amazon who used to throw discus on the track team. Although I occasionally saw Arlene for a rendezvous between the sheets during my courtship with Gail, I spent far more time with my future wife. Arlene gave me useful romantic advice, and taught me more effective foreplay techniques. She even attended our wedding, though only a few days earlier, she bewitched me into a baby again and told me that any time I needed it, she'd baby me.
Gail was the opposite of Arlene, perhaps that's why I picked her. Gail was brunette, Arlene was blonde; Gail was large, Arlene was petite; Gail was physically strong, Arlene was weak; Gail had a small top; Arlene's bosoms were big; Gail had a big sexy ass, Arlene's was small.
Curious, I introduced tickling to Gail before we were married. I tickled her feet one night during foreplay. She laughed, but told me I was weird.
It wasn't until after we were married that I confessed my desire to be dominated. She's game, but the experience is different, just as exciting but different. I don't turn into a baby with her, but remain a man--a helpless, nervous man dominated by a stronger woman. She sits on my chest and face, giving me an up close view of her womanly buttocks, and tickles me mercilessly. I struggle not to laugh, squirm, eventually beg her to stop. She says she likes to play with me, and I stay wide awake--a full grown, tortured man through the whole session.
We get along all right, me and Gail. But today, I'm hungover, henpecked, and I've had enough of my job. I've called in sick. Only Arlene can make the pressures of my life go away, making me regress back into infancy. She's home, and I'm headed there now.
Our next time together, she introduced straps.
"It's hard for you to let me gitchy you," she said. "If you want, I can tie you up. Would you like that?"
I sat on the bed, shocked when she pulled the black straps out of the night stand drawer. I'd never pictured her so hard core. Our last time together seemed a little silly, and I assumed she didn't really take it seriously. But now she stood there, wearing a white nighty that didn't quite cover her unusually large bosoms, ready to take this to the next level.
I shook my head yes.
"Ok, lay back then," she said, taking charge in a teasing voice.
She got on her knees and straddled me, her bosoms hovering over me like giant, jiggling water balloons. And working quickly and decisively, she secured my wrists to the bed posts. She pulled her nighty off and the sight of her big bosoms, now completely nude, made me shake with intensity. Yet, fear also gripped me, the size of her bosoms began to intimidate me, and I felt my body, though not my erection, shrink in comparison.
Softly, she whispered, "gitchy, gitchy, goo," like it was some secret between us, which it was.
Again, she chose to begin tickling me under my chin.
She slightly raised her voice and repeated, "gitchy, gitchy, goo."
She rubbed my chest and neck, making me feel uncomfortable because this time I couldn't stop her hands. The relentless pressure made me squirm. I almost cracked.
"Gitchy, gitchy, goo," she said, a little louder this time, now fingering my ribs. I let out a groan. I was fighting it like mad this time, holding in the laughter building inside. But I had a curious feeling that I was shrinking in size, my pubic hair vanishing.
She raised her voice to the high soprano level.
"Gitchy, gitchy, goooo."
Finally, I giggled out but not like a man. I looked to my left, to my right. The straps were gone, my muscular arms were gone, replaced by baby arms. In a panic I realized I'd been transformed from man to baby. I tried to say something but words wouldn't form--all I could do was babble and giggle. Milk spouted from her bosoms, the liquid unexpectedly cold, shocking me, making me feel even more helpless. This cold stream tickled me more than her persistant fingers, and I laughed hard. There was only one way to stop the tickling stream, I thought. I lurched forward and closed my mouth on one of the nipples, but the stream of liquid entered me, tickling me from the inside out--an unbearable feeling.
The next thing I knew, I awoke from a nap, unrestrained, spooning Arlene. Dry semen stuck my penis to the back of her buttocks. The terror I felt replaced by relief.
*********************************************************
Arlene was true to her word--our relationship remained secret. She later encouraged me to date other woman closer to my own age. At a high school reunion I met an Amazon who used to throw discus on the track team. Although I occasionally saw Arlene for a rendezvous between the sheets during my courtship with Gail, I spent far more time with my future wife. Arlene gave me useful romantic advice, and taught me more effective foreplay techniques. She even attended our wedding, though only a few days earlier, she bewitched me into a baby again and told me that any time I needed it, she'd baby me.
Gail was the opposite of Arlene, perhaps that's why I picked her. Gail was brunette, Arlene was blonde; Gail was large, Arlene was petite; Gail was physically strong, Arlene was weak; Gail had a small top; Arlene's bosoms were big; Gail had a big sexy ass, Arlene's was small.
Curious, I introduced tickling to Gail before we were married. I tickled her feet one night during foreplay. She laughed, but told me I was weird.
It wasn't until after we were married that I confessed my desire to be dominated. She's game, but the experience is different, just as exciting but different. I don't turn into a baby with her, but remain a man--a helpless, nervous man dominated by a stronger woman. She sits on my chest and face, giving me an up close view of her womanly buttocks, and tickles me mercilessly. I struggle not to laugh, squirm, eventually beg her to stop. She says she likes to play with me, and I stay wide awake--a full grown, tortured man through the whole session.
We get along all right, me and Gail. But today, I'm hungover, henpecked, and I've had enough of my job. I've called in sick. Only Arlene can make the pressures of my life go away, making me regress back into infancy. She's home, and I'm headed there now.
