The queen of transgendered sexuality and the exotic lives of the dominant and wealthy, brings you a collection of her female-led work.
Book-One contains a tale of human bondage and transitioning, “The Countess’s Compliant”; and “A Deserved Descent”, the first volume of two in her classic study of a man infatuated with the idea of feminization and cuckoldry who finds the reality may just be a little more than he can handle at the hands of his loving wife.
“The Countess’s Compliant”
Ella was moaning even more now and trying to push into my face, locking me onto her, taking me under her control and my task ever so clear – to bring her to a massive climax. I focused on her clitoris, remembering how Dominique and Janine loved this, Ella’s hands holding my head and steering me into a circular motion to worship this erotic nerve centre of hers.
Her reaction was to grip me with her thighs even harder and then spasm, the signs of a clitoral orgasm or more imminent. I was quickly learning that this was what I wanted – to be enslaved in a woman like this, a permanent worshipper of her pussy, my satisfaction in pleasing her, the chance to taste her cum – almost to live on a feminine-fed diet.
Ella oozed into me – I could feel the twitching in her body, never mind hearing her groaning and heavy breathing as she sought more air. Rather than stop, she rolled over, turned herself around and climbed over me, putting me into a sixty-nine and then raising her back into a queening position, smothering my face in her bottom.
Seventh heaven had arrived again, even better than anything I had previously experienced, my clitoral nose in her anus and her aroma filling me through the small breathing apertures and my mouth and tongue impaled over the entrance to her cunt. She rode me cleverly, controlling my air-flow, building the tension up deep inside her and seeking an even bigger release.
I could feel wave on wave of pleasure shooting through her, the combination of nervous electrical energy in both her autonomous and superficial system and the warmth accompanying the nerves twitching – from her feet to the top of her head, Ella’s hands working my body, possibly as a distraction or to deliver the focus on exploding over me.
And then she came, a magnitude stronger than her first climax, this one flowing out of her and all over my head, my mouth taking the brunt of it but also her cum finding my eyes and nose and making my rubber face very slippery indeed – not that I minded.
We weren’t finished – not a question of Kerstin taking over, that was to come later, but Ella reaching for the harness. This was like something that I had never seen before, a high-positioned belt made of leather that sat above my chastity waist-strap.
Embossed on it in gold were four shields showing the increasingly familiar d’Orsayville coat-of-arms, a reminder of where we were.
“A Deserved Descent”
“Darling, since I was very young, I have had an interest in women’s lingerie.”
“Well, that’s no surprise and I know that I don’t wear anything that is really exciting but that doesn’t send you barrelling all the way to Vancouver.”
“I like to wear it, always have done from way before we were married, from when I was even at school.”
Now that took her back.
In true “Amy” style she held her cool.
“Tell me more, how does this manifest itself.”
“Well, Darling, Vancouver is one of the few places where crossdressers and transvestites can express themselves freely, without society judging them, criticising them, being prejudice and all that. It is so welcoming and safe. I wanted to live as a woman for a fleeting amount of time.”
“Yes……er, I can just imagine that, you as a woman.”
Amy nervously laughed at her slightly disparaging remark, putting me in place.
I explained the difference between a crossdresser, transvestite and transsexual, taking care to be slow, deliberate and inclusive of the definitions and what they meant.
“So what are you, a crossdresser or TV then?”
“I have lived primarily as a CD, Amy, but the frustration has been growing. I guess it is age and hormonal change, as we all change. Remember several years ago, we read ‘Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus’ as well as ‘Brain Sex’?…”
We had done so at the suggestion of a friend of ours, who I think had some suspicions. However, it had not initiated any fundamental shift in our sexual relationship. It had, though, given both of us an appreciation of some of the drivers to the spectrum of sexuality and resultant behaviours out there and had, I guess, made both of us more tolerant of minority behaviour, particularly to homosexuality and fetishes.
“So, yes Amy, I guess that I am a TV, increasingly so. I need to sate my feminine side from time to time and this isn’t necessarily sexual. I have these desires to live as a woman, sex being part of it of course but not the over-riding factor. And, yes, I would prefer to be the weaker sex in the relationship. Look, this isn’t all the time but the occasional calling, though I would say that the “pressure,” so to speak, is increasing as time marches on.”
“I can understand that.”
What ensued was a series of questions about my thinking, what it meant to be dressed, the degree of sexual satisfaction that I experienced and how, by being feminine what did that really entail.
Did I expect to be a housewife? Answer, in part.
Did I need to go outside dressed? Answer, Yes but not with the children?
Did I need to tell all family and friends, to come out? Answer, Not yet but that is something we should take very carefully.
Was I gay?
Answer: not gay, but bi and, no, I had not had a man for several years.”
Amy didn’t go there with the question “When” and “What about women?” I knew that she knew. She also knew that I was AIDs free from a recent medical but I quietly vowed to ensure that I was doubly sure.
I also went onto explain that there was an oddity in all this; she had raised her eyebrows. This was that of being bi-played along with what sex mode that I was in. In other words, male dress meant an interest only in being with women and, in female mode, I was content with being with either sex.
She had laughed at that, commenting:
“I guess each to their own.”
We carried on with a number of questions from Amy, things like relationships with the children and whether they should know, the consensus being “not at the moment”.
Overall, over the close to two hours, Amy took the “bombshell” well; I was surprised that she did not lose her temper or get angry. Her only “anger” was the buying and purging of clothes, which she said had been a really stupid thing to do, a waste of money.
In fact, I sensed that there was relief on her part that this was all out in the open.
She had known for some time that I had an intense interest in lingerie and also that I “enjoyed” the scent of her panties and she was fine with this. It kept me interested in her, she admitted.
That I had been surprised at.
It demonstrated how little I knew of her and the state that we were in.