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From: adietrech@aol.com (A Dietrech)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Nancy's Panty Slave 2/3 (TG, femdom)
Date: 3 Dec 1994 09:25:21 -0500
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You see, Ronnie is not an unwilling captive by any means. He is a
slave to his fetishes, and I simply exploit these desires to
ensure his obedience. Dear Reader, do you think Ronnie is humili-
ated by such unrelenting degradation? He loves every second of
it! He lives for it; would be hopelessly miserable without it.
How grateful he is to his Mistress for allowing his heretofore
secret fantasies to come alive! How well he loves to be permitted
to mince around my apartment in his high heels and satin linge-
rie. How he craves punishment and degradation at the hands of his
Mistress! How he longs to serve me in his frilly little maid's
uniform!

I think the world would be a much better place if all men were
subjugated to women. They would be so busy serving their Mis-
tresses and admiring how pretty they are in the mirror that they
would lose all interest in things like power and money and
warfare.

These thoughts amuse me as I watch Ronnie bend over to clean the
cat litter. His frilly panties are in full view as he shovels out
the droppings. I smile to myself and know I've got it made.

You should see Ronnie at work; he's a completely different person
there! So demanding... so in charge! His underlings are posi-
tively terrified of him! He barks orders at them and they fall
all over each other scurrying to carry them out.

He's positively unmerciful to his secretary! The poor girl really
has my sympathy. He screams at her when things go wrong, even
when they're not her fault. I try to be sympathetic, though.
Sometimes I want to tell her the secret to controlling him: put a
pair of your worn panties on his desk and he'll do anything you
want, dearie!

I wonder what they would all say if they could see their Boss
groveling in his little Maid's uniform. What would they think if
they saw him whimpering at my feet as my abject slave?

Sometimes I'm tempted to leave a few of my many revealing Polar-
oids and videos around the office. Whenever Ronnie displays any
insolence I threaten him with a mailing. Sometimes a Mistress has
to get tough to keep her slave in line.

Impulsive girl that I am, I change panties anytime I feel the
urge. I simply take them off and toss them across the room.
Without a word Ronnie is off like a shot after them, practically
drooling. He retrieves them and goes into my room to fetch me a
fresh pair.

Then, Ronnie will go to the laundry room to deposit my worn
panties into the hamper. I admonish the sniveling little worm not
to sniff or fondle them, but I know he will. The perverted little
darling simply can't help himself!

To be truthful, I don't mind because Ronnie's uncontrollable lust
for my smelly undies keeps him obedient to me. When he's handling
my soiled panties he can't refrain from playing with himself.
He's a compulsive masturbator; a real wanker. Sometimes I peek
and watch him bring himself off when he thinks I'm not looking.

Ronnie falls to his knees and holds my worn panties stretched out
before his face. He's practically drooling as he holds the moist
crotch to his face and takes a long, loving sniff of my woman-
hood.

He has had a huge erection from the moment he picked the panties
up, and now he removes it from his frilly Maid's panties. He
looks so adorable kneeling there in his frilly uniform with his
big cock hanging out.

Then, Ronnie takes my panties and pulls them over his head, with
the crotch directly over his flaring nostrils. He puts his hand
around his cock and begins slowly stroking back and forth. He
lets out a little moan as he slides his hand gently over his
cock.

Ronnie gradually begins pulling his prick faster and faster until
he's jerking off for all he's worth. "Mmmmm, panties..." he'll
whimper under his breath, "panties... mmmmm, pannnntieeees...
pannnnteeeeeees!" Even the word excites him as he repeats it like
a mantra.

Then with a gasp, Ronnie explodes all over his hands, being very
careful not to get any telltale spots on his Mistress' expensive
panties. I must inspect the worn undies in the hamper constantly
and Ronnie will be a very sorry slave indeed if I find any of his
filthy semen on my panties. He has his own frilly undies for
that!

I know some Mistresses employ chastity devices to prevent their
slaves from masturbating or even having an erection without
permission. I do in fact use them selectively, but my philosophy
is different from theirs.

I prefer to have the slave become so addicted to his lingerie
orgasms he cannot live without them. And he knows full well his
Mistress is the only one who will allow him to indulge such
disgusting desires!

Ronnie returns with my clean panties, trying not to look as if
he's just jerked off with my soiled panties. If I'm in a good
mood I don't even ask him what took him so long when he returns.

When Ronnie thinks he's finished cleaning he returns and hands me
my white glove. I try and catch him by running over surfaces I
think I may have missed. He will continue to clean until I am
satisfied the apartment is positively spotless.

Besides cleaning my apartment and cooking me dinner, Ronnie's
duties also include doing my laundry. Naturally, for a perverted
little panty sniffer like him, it is his favorite chore. But as
always he must earn his panty playtime.

I have a huge assortment of hand-washable cotton and silk outfits
that I would never own if I had to wash them myself. But they're
cool and comfortable during the summer, and my slave washes them
for me anyway, so why not?

Some of the other women at work have complimented me, saying that
I must spend all my free time doing hand washing. I sweetly smile
and tell them it's no trouble at all.

Ronnie starts by sorting all the laundry. He does all the machine
washables first and gets them out of the way. Then he lovingly
hand-washes my dresses and lingerie. My panties are in a separate
pile on the floor to give him extra motivation.

Ronnie lovingly launders my dresses and blouses, jealously
holding them to his chest to see how they'd look on him. He does
a marvelous job eliminating all the stains and discolorations. He
really is a capable laundress.

Then, he washes my slips, petticoats, camis, teddies and all my
unmentionables. He is practically drooling as he fondles each
lacy, delicate item with great delight. He holds them to his face
and smells the perfume of his beloved Mistress. He lets out a
deep sigh. Ah, such devotion!

Only when all the other laundry is folded and put away may Ronnie
petition his Mistress for permission to launder her panties. He
kneels before the huge pile of worn panties on the floor. I then
cuff his hands behind his back because the little shit cannot be
trusted not to play with himself.

I pick a pair of my panties off the pile and dangle them in his
face. I ask him sneeringly, "Does Maid Ronnie want to wash
Mistress' panties?"

"Yes, please Mistress," he whimpers. Faced with the object of his
sick desires his cock throbs in his black frillies. He is pant-
ing; totally consumed by his passion for panties! He's so pathet-
ic looking as he kneels there blubbering in his little Maid's
uniform. I snap a few Polaroids and throw them on the floor in
front of him so he can see how silly he looks.

But Ronnie could care less how degraded he is! He needs my
panties, and he'll do anything to get them. He kneels, eager to
hear my command.

"Please Mistress," he whines. "I've been a devoted little sissy
slut Maid for you. I've cleaned your apartment, done all your
laundry, cooked your dinner and serviced your beautiful orifices.
Please Mistress, I beg you! Let me lick your panties! Please
Mistress! Please..."

The soft-hearted Mistress is not unmoved by the pleas of her
groveling slave. But more often than not I deny Ronnie panty
privileges. Instead, I send him home with a bad case of blue
balls. This way he can contemplate what he did wrong as he
masturbates at home. Though Ronnie has strict orders not to touch
himself without permission, I'm not naive enough to think he
doesn't.

I have literally hundreds of panties Ronnie bought me and even
though I change them several times a day it takes a few weeks
before I run out completely. Ronnie's anticipation grows as the
pile of soiled panties grows higher every day.

Finally, I'm down to my last pair or two and I know it's time for
Ronnie to wash my undies. Of course, this means he has to "pre-
treat" each and every one with his tongue.

This time I'm absolutely down to my last pair of panties and I
decide to indulge my little sissy maid. Ronnie's been obedient
and has performed somewhat satisfactorily. After all, you cannot
motivate a slave by punishment all the time; you have to reward
him occasionally. And this is the greatest reward Ronnie can
imagine!

The ritual begins and I have Ronnie kneel at attention. Then I
will take pair after pair of my soiled panties and place them
over his face.

Ronnie licks up all my excretions with equal delight. Pussy
juices, piss, shit streaks, even period stains are lovingly
lapped up with enthusiasm and delight. The filthier they are the
better he likes them!

I can see the outline of his tongue begin lapping the panties
just the way I've taught him. Ronnie begins licking my panties at
the center of the crotch and slowly works his tongue in a circu-
lar motion towards the edges. He is so excited and enthusiastic I
sometimes think he'll wear the crotches out of my panties with
his tongue.

After placing two or three dozen of my panties over his face to
lick, Ronnie is so excited his body begins to convulse. He
trembles and strains at his handcuffs a his poor, tortured member
throbs back and forth inside his panties. I know I have excited
my helpless sissy slave as much as I can.

Sometimes when Ronnie reaches this point he'll go off inside his
panties without ever having touched himself; just from squirming
around inside his silky frillies and the scent of my filthy worn
undies is enough to make him come.

But this times I'm feeling generous and uncuff Ronnie's hands.

"They're all yours, you disgusting little panty sniffer. Go play
with the pretty panties if you must, but if you get one drop of
your filthy scum on them I swear I'll whip your teeny little
peanut dick into chopped meat!"

"Oh, thank you, thank you Mistress," he whimpers as he throws
himself bodily onto the panty pile. I've never seen a man more
sexually excited than Ronnie is in the panty pile. He sniffs and
fondles and masturbates wildly with my worn underwear!

He's so hot, totally lost in his sick fetish for my panties. They
are the center of his sexual universe, along with his demanding
Mistress, that is! I really ought to videotape him sometime so I
can let him see how silly and disgusting he is. Not that it would
ever stop him from wanting my undies!

I smile to myself at my inventiveness. Most women would look at
such a pile of their worn underwear and see a chore they'd have
to perform. Not me. I see the key to my boyfriend's (if the
sniveling sissy can be called that) abject obedience. This is
what he needs; this is what he endures all the humiliation and
drudgery for - these infrequent, intimate moments with my worn
underwear!

He humps and grinds and wanks and yanks until he is at the brink
of orgasm. Once again I hear the familiar whimpering.

"Pantieeessss... Pantieeeees... Oooooh MISTRESSSSSS YESSSSSS!
Mmmmmm... Ohhh Mistresssss! Pantieeeees... Pannnnntiieeees! OH!
PANNNNNNNNNTEEEEEEES!!!"

Knowing he is about to come, Ronnie tosses my panties to one side
and blasts his semen all over his own ruffled Maid's panties. The
white come contrasts against the black material of his panties,
and drips between the ruffles.

When he is finished coming I reassert myself. I have him remove
my shoe and thank his Mistress for granting him panty privileges.
The next thing Ronnie must do is take off his expensive Maid's
panties and remove every last trace of his filthy male juices
from them with his tongue. I make him lick up his own come after
every orgasm. It gives the little darling an opportunity to
develop a taste for sperm.

He may now suck on my toes for a while and thank me for letting
him have his disgusting way with my lingerie. He does so with the
greatest relish. If I need a pedicure and my toenails painted he
does that too. He has gotten quite competent from all the prac-
tice he's given.

Some of my favorite activities with Ronnie involve our occasional
shopping sprees. Every so often I become bored with my wardrobe
and decide it's time to buy some new clothes.

I have Ronnie fetch the car and meet me out in front of the
building. In addition to being my maid and domestic slave, Ronnie
is also my chauffeur.

We usually drive to Garden City or Saddle River where the luxury
shopping is. Fifth Avenue has so much traffic we rarely shop
there. We go to all the chic, expensive stores. Ronnie will
always walk five paces in back of his Mistress like a good
servant should.

Many times we'll go on a lingerie hunt. I'll enter the many
lingerie stores I frequent and always get a big hello from the
salesgirls. They know I'll always make a nice purchase; I invari-
ably walk out with a few hundred dollars' worth of underwear.

I walk through the racks and pick any item that may suit my
fancy, handing them to Ronnie as he follows me around. He then
dutifully brings them to the cashier's counter for me. I never
have to carry anything.

I grab anything I like - after all, HE'S paying for it! And what
a lucky sissy he is to be allowed the privilege of purchasing his
Mistress' intimate apparel for her. I grab bras, bustiers,
teddies, camisoles, slips and of course lots and lots of panties.

Many times the proprietress will put aside specialty items they
think I'll like. As the "straight" world catches up with the
fetish underground more PVC, leather and rubber items are appear-
ing on the mainstream lingerie market.

If we're buying lingerie for Ronnie I tell the salesladies in no
uncertain terms they are for him. Ronnie blushes and they cheer-
fully show him all the latest styles in the larger sizes. "Oh,
these will look LOVELY on you dear," they'll coo as they hold a
new teddy or custom corset up to Ronnie's chest to see how
they'll look.

When we are through shopping the salesgirls will ring up the
total, and I always am a little surprised at how much I spend on
lingerie. But Ronnie will dutifully produce his Gold charge cards
with nary a peep. Truth is, he can well afford it with the money
he has!

One thing that used to annoy me immensely was how Ronnie would
behave himself when we went lingerie shopping. He would always
get a big rod in his pants from fondling all the lacy undies.

It made me furious! I did not want these women to see that my
slave's genitals were not under my control at all times! After
all, I am a Mistress; a role model for other women. I have to set
an example when it comes to handling men.

Eventually I solved the problem by designing a special chastity
device for my slave. It is a modified pair of latex dildo pants
with a hole and sheath in the front. I had the stock dildo
removed and a larger one put in; about the size of a real cock.
As his asshole stretches I can have larger ones installed.

The front of the latex panties has a tiny hole three-quarters of
an inch in diameter to put his cock through. Ronnie has to take a
cold bath to make his pecker small enough to fit through it. The
hole leads his penis into a latex sheath just big enough to fit
his cock when it's that small.

When Ronnie gets excited while wearing the chastity panties his
cock is strangled at the base by the small hole, and contained by
the latex sheath. It is very painful for him as the blood gorges
his penis but has no room to expand his tortured appendage.

Now when we go lingerie shopping I can watch Ronnie as he fondles
the new undies I'm buying with great delight. Suddenly he will
grimace in pain, and I will smile to myself in the knowledge that
my slave's genitals are under control. They are the property of
his Mistress and he will do with them as he is told!

I used to allow Ronnie to accompany me on my shopping sprees in
his male attire, but under my stern tutelage he has become much
more feminine and passable. Recently I decided I would command
Ronnie to shop with his Mistress in drag from now on.

At first the little slut actually refused to go! I had to beat
him unmercifully with the bamboo cane to convince him going to
the mall and possibly being "read" was the least of the many
unpleasant things that could happen to him if he persisted in his
blatant disobedience!

Having already prepared for Ronnie's first sojourn out of the
closet, he went into his room and found a red minidress, black
fishnets and a towering pair of six-inch red patent heels. To
make the dressing more pleasant, I also laid out a pair of
deliciously sheer red lace panties, a red gaff, and a strapless
red lace bra complete with a new pair of breast forms.

Once Ronnie donned the garments I ordered him to my vanity table
and personally groomed his wig and did his makeup. I then allowed
him to look in the mirror. There before Ronnie in the mirror was
a creature far more feminine and passable than he'd ever have
dreamed possible!

Truly, here was the woman who lived inside Ronnie; a painted slut
in a red minidress that barely covered his pantied ass. He
puckered his red lips and did a slow, seductive turn for himself.
I could see he was really taken with himself, getting psyched up
to go out as I knew he would!

Finally, I handed Ronnie the car keys and told him to fetch the
car from the parking garage. Ronnie sighed deeply and ventured
out into the apartment door into hallway. As he passed the
threshold for the first time I giggled to myself as I thought,
"That's one small step for man; one giant leap for woman."

I took my sweet time getting ready to go out, wanting to make
Ronnie sweat downstairs. When I reached the front door he was
giggling with the doorman, who obviously had no idea the pretty
woman flashing her thighs at him was really my boyfriend! Ronnie
was eating it up and I had to curtly suggest he pull the car up.

I was going to parade him down Fifth Avenue but I decided to have
him drive way out to Kings Plaza, in Brooklyn way off the beaten
path. We'd been on lingerie shopping sprees there before.

Ronnie was fine until we parked the car and got to the Mall
entrance. Suddenly he broke out into a cold sweat, terrified! He
began to panic, blubbering that he wanted to go home. He begged
me to let him get back in the car; whimpered that he was afraid
that someone from work might see him there.

Finally I'd had enough of his sniveling. I slapped him sharply
across the face. "Slut," I hissed at him through clenched teeth.
"If you don't get in there right now you can walk home, and you
can consider yourself dismissed as my slave. That means no more
maid service, no more lingerie and no more panties, either."