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Magic Shrinking Lingerie and the Dominant’s Desires 

After my divorce, I discovered the world of BDSM and D/s (Domination/submission).  As I became more self-aware, I began learning about my hidden desires.  Then, after a long search, I had met someone who I wanted to submit to, and he had agreed to be my Dominant (or Dom).  His name was Joe, and he had just called from his cell phone to get final directions to my apartment.  It was nerve-racking as I waited for him to approach my street.  Whenever I was with him, he made me feel so submissive, small and satisfied--the waiting was unbearable. 

 

Yesterday, he had given me some instructions, so I had rushed around to complete them.  The note was the first command he had given to me since we met, and I wanted to be sure to please him.  I was supposed to go to an "adult" store and purchase a new sex toy, one that he would command me to play with as he watched me, and I was to prepare him dinner. 

 

I had found a new store called “Giant Sex Toys & Magic Lingerie,” a weird name, I thought.  When I walked in, the store manager stared at me strangely.  Unnerved, I felt as if he was evaluating me.  When I looked up at him, he didn’t even bother looking away.  Instead, he brazenly lowered his eyes to my chest, staring rudely.  His dark eyes gave me the creeps, and I fidgeted.  He grinned at my discomfort; however, I had to accomplish my mission, so I couldn’t just leave.  I didn’t know of another store that sold sex toys.  Blushing, I quickly picked out a black teddy and stockings, as instructed.  The manager handed me a lacy, long-sleeved robe, and he said, “Here, take this to go with that outfit.  Your man won’t get enough of you when you wear this.”  He winked, and I shuddered. 

 

“Thank you, Sir,” I mumbled as I took it from his hands.  He touched my hand, and I pulled away.    Then I quickly paid for my selections and escaped back to the safety of my car.  The grocery store was much less exciting, but now all my tasks were completed, and I could try to relax.

 

Nervously awaiting the knock on my door, I found myself becoming quite excited as well.  The room was quiet and the sudden knock on the door was startling, even though expected.  As the door swung open, the squeaking hinges, never noticed by me before, suddenly seemed loud and menacing.   He crossed the threshold clad in a dark business suit, hand cuffs tucked in the small of his back at his belt, gun holster over his shoulders so that you couldn't see the "bulge" of the gun under his jacket, and his badge clipped to his belt on his hip.  I didn't see, as much as felt, all these things as we greeted in an embrace.  I had to rise up slightly on my toes, because he was 6 feet tall and I am only 5’6”.

 

"Take a few steps back so that I can see your outfit," Joe commanded. 

 

The extreme nervousness caused me to become uncoordinated as I almost tripped in my black 4” high heels.

 

"Turn around and model for me," he spoke softly.  Mindful of my clumsiness, I slowed the pace and turned more gracefully this time.  I could feel his eyes roaming every inch of my body.  This time, it was an enjoyable experience, unlike at the sex store.

 

 "Nice, very nice," was all that he said.  I didn't detect the slightest glimmer of a smile or facial expression that would grant a hint as to what he was thinking.

 

 "Show me," he said with a voice that was stern and confident.  I led him to the bedroom (I had guessed correctly that he wanted to see my toys.)   "Nice apartment," he said in a matter of fact manner, grabbing one of my ass cheeks and patting it lightly as we walked. 

 

His eyes scanned the toys neatly arranged on the bedspread.  Lowering his hand, he picked up the green dildo, turning it in his hand absent-mindedly.  Replacing the toy on the bed, he turned away with a cool, gentle air of confidence and walked back to the living room as I silently followed.   He settled into the blue armchair with the footstool, the most comfortable piece of furniture in the room.  Instinctively, I sat down on the footstool, without asking permission, wondering if I would be chastised.  

 

 "Did you do your assignment?"

 

"Yes Sir," I replied, immediately rising from the footstool to retrieve the note I had written at the office, a print out of my experience list and limit list, as well as a copy of the stories I have written.  Upon my return, I noticed that the footstool had been pushed aside, and he waved his hand to the floor in front of his feet.

 

 "Here!" was all he said, pointing to the empty space where the footstool had once been.  I sat down at his feet and looked up at him.  

 

"Never look at me unless I give you permission. Keep your eyes down, Pamela."

 

 "Yes Sir," I mumbled in reply as I handed him the papers.    He held those papers for such a short period of time; my hand was still outstretched when he shoved them back.

 

 "Read it to me!" he commanded.  A shiver ran down my spine as I remembered how hard it had been to commit those feelings to paper.  Now he wanted me to read the words aloud?  I felt so small and afraid.  The brief period of silence seemed like an eternity as I struggled to focus on the words.  With a dry mouth and quivering voice, I read the memo to him in a monotone.

 

 "Was it OK, sir?" I asked, anxious to please. 

 

He nodded and said, "What else do you have?"

 

 Trying to stop my hands from shaking, I handed him the experience/limit list.  He read that quietly to himself as I sat at his feet. He stroked my hair lightly, idly it seemed, naturally.  I waited patiently.

 

 "It seems we have a lot in common," he said, laying the pages on the end table.

 

 "Did you get a toy?" his voice barely above a whisper.

 

 "Well, let me tell you about that," I said.  "The store I went to had this very strange man, and he made me very uncomfortable, so I got this outfit, but no toys, Sir." 

 

"YOU DIDN'T GET ONE?" he pounced on my words; his voice indicated displeasure in that I had not obeyed his direct command.

 

I couldn't get the words out fast enough.  "No, Sir, but I had these toys already.  I thought that would be enough."  Hanging my head, I tried to be smaller. 

 

 "Get them!"  he barked.  Rushing to the bedroom, heart pounding, I returned with a box containing a small vibrator and several cock sleeves inside.

 

 "Good girl," he said, patting my head with one hand while reaching for the contents of my hands with the other.  Placing the items on the footstool, he continued, "Tell me of your recent experiences."

 

I became nervous again, as he had just read about many of them, so I tried to be short and tell him of things that were not on the list.  When I got to the part about a tit flower, I confessed, "Oh, yes, I have clothes pins too, Sir.  I forgot about them."

 

"Go and get them!  WHY did you not tell me of these before?" his eyebrows raised in a sharp arch over his dark probing eyes, his voice harsh and commanding.    My head hanging in shame, I went to fetch the clothespins immediately. 

 

"I had unpacked my suitcase from the previous weekend, and I forgot about these," stumbling over my own words, handing the small bag to him.

 

 "What else have you NOT told me about?”

 

Stuttering and stammering, I replied,  "Well, I have a candle, and condoms too, but those aren't toys. That is all, Sir." 

 

Sensing my great anxiety, his voice changed to a more conversational tone.  Almost an hour passed as we chatted casually.  My comfort level increased, and I enjoyed the contented feeling I had as I sat at his feet.

 

 "OH! I better check the casserole!" I exclaimed rushing off to the kitchen, but suddenly stopping dead in my tracks.  Looking over my shoulder, I asked,   "Is that okay, Sir?" He nodded in approval.

 

As I entered the kitchen, it was the first time since he had arrived that I felt free from his eyes washing over my body.  That did not last long, however, because I heard as much as felt him behind me, striding across the linoleum-covered flooring.  I was bent over the oven, pulling out the casserole dish, but before I was able to stand straight, I felt his hand gripping my exposed ass cheek.  Comfortably, as if that happened every time I leaned over the stove, I continued with my work preparing our meal.

 

"Are you hungry, Sir, because it is ready,” I asked as I handed a corkscrew to him and nodded toward the counter where the bottle of wine was that he had brought.  Graciously, he opened the wine and poured two glasses while I placed casserole and vegetables onto our plates. 

 

Sharing duties, we carried the plates and wine glasses to the dining room.  When he saw that I had set the table for two, he asked matter-of-factly, "Did anyone say that you would be allowed to eat with me?"

 

Hanging my head once again, I replied softly, "No, Sir."  I knew better than to try to make an excuse for my ignorance or presumption.  I remained standing, holding the two plates awkwardly in silence.

 

 Setting down the glasses, he lectured me, saying, "You will sit beside me, here, with your knees apart and bent.  You will set your plate on the floor between your legs.  This is how you will eat when in my presence now and in the future.  Understood?"  I raised my eyes quickly to look up at him in surprise, and knew instantly that I had made another error.  The degradation of being forced to eat on the floor was bad enough, but the glare in his eyes caused me unbearable discomfort for having displeased him, and I quickly lowered my eyes again in shame.  I wanted to disappear so he couldn’t stare at me with his disapproving eyes.

 

"Who said you could look at me? You really WANT to get spanked, don't you?" he demanded harshly, shaking his head back and forth in disbelief. 

 

"No, Sir," I quickly replied.  "I'm sorry, Sir.  Please forgive me," I stammered, adding quickly, "Please enjoy your meal."  I set down one plate on his place mat, took the other mat from the table, and positioned it on the floor where he had instructed me to be, and then emptied my other hand of its plate. 

 

Approaching him before he sat down, I asked, “May I please hug you?”  He nodded, and I wrapped my arms around his waist.  I got on my tiptoes, and tried to put my head on his shoulder like I had when I greeted him at the door.  But for some reason, I couldn’t reach his shoulder.  Did my high heel break off?  Before I could figure it out, he released me, and pointed to the floor. 

 

Collapsing beside him, I got into position, and he took his seat.  Looking down between my legs, I saw my pussy adjacent to the plateful of food and felt somewhat embarrassed.  Overcoming that, I lifted a forkful of food and timidly chewed. The fork seemed to be a bit wider than I remembered, and I spilled some of the food onto my chin.  Wiping my face, I blushed.  Even though the casserole was a bit dry, it tasted good because I was very hungry.  I hoped he would not notice and that things would start going better.

 

"Hey! Who said you could eat yet? You should know what to do." Instantly I ceased chewing and glanced up at him, puzzled, and was rewarded with a dark expression of disappointment.  My feelings sank when I realized that once again I had disobeyed some protocol.  Plus, I disobeyed a rule he had just reminded me about.  Things were not going very smoothly at all, and I suddenly was not hungry anymore. 

 

"No Sir, I don't know."  My face turned a dark, hot red. 

 

"Before you eat in my presence, what do you do?" 

 

Scrunching my forehead in puzzlement, I finally smiled and blurted out what I hoped was the correct answer.  "May I please eat now, Sir?" 

 

He beamed, at last.  I didn't dare look up to check, but thought I could hear it in his lighter tone.  "Do you deserve to eat, Pamela?"

 

Pausing to think, I replied, "Yes, Sir. I have tried to obey all your instructions." 

 

"OK." Reaching down, he patted my head and stroked my hair occasionally, in between mouthfuls, almost as an afterthought.  My hunger completely gone, I choked down bites of casserole and broccoli and miserably thought about how I would need to work harder to please this Dominant.

 

Thirsty from the dry casserole, I absent-mindedly reached up to the table to retrieve my wine glass.  I heard, "No, Pamela..." and saw him push it out of my reach just as I was about to wrap my fingers around the stem. 

 

Chastising myself for my stupidity, I tried to regain composure and asked as sweetly as I could, "May I please have a sip of wine now, Sir?"  It was not going to be that easy, though.  My blunder was not to go unpunished. 

 

"No, not yet. Eat some more first."  Patting my head again to reinforce his parental role, he returned to his meal.  I felt my face flush red again and felt like a child who had just been turned down.  Helpless, I ate a few more bites.  After just a moment, although it seemed like forever, he held the glass toward my face. Surprised at his sudden act of kindness, I instinctively reached up for it with my hand, but just as quickly, I saw him pull it away.  "You ARE asking for it, aren't you!" he barked, setting the glass down with a clink, almost spilling it.  I could sense his disappointment and disgust, and I felt like crawling under the place mat at my feet to hide from the awful feeling of displeasing him.  A knot formed in the pit of my stomach.

 

Not knowing what else to do, and still not having quenched my thirst, I lifted my fork to eat another bite.  A tear formed in the corner of one eye as my sense of complete and utter failure seemed to seek a way to escape from the pit of my stomach.  Sensing my misery, he held the glass to my lips, and this time, I rewarded him by graciously allowing him to pour a small amount of liquid into my parted lips.  Patiently, he allowed me to take a sip or two before returning it to the tabletop. 

 

"Thank you, Sir," I said meekly with relief at having performed as he expected without making another error.

 

"Good girl," he comforted me, stroking my hair again.  I beamed with joy, and felt the tear disappear as quickly as it had appeared.  But I was immediately brought back to reality.  Looking down, the plate appeared larger than before.  Was it because I was no longer hungry?  Or was it growing?  Reality and fantasy were getting jumbled in my mind.

 

"Another thing, Pamela, I had better not be done eating before you are."  My heart raced all of a sudden as I stretched my neck to see what was left on his plate. But I couldn’t seem to stretch high enough.  Determined to obey, I eagerly returned to eating, although no longer hungry and very nervous about what may happen when dinner was over.  Occasionally, he would choose to hold the wine to my lips for another sip or two, and each time I would say thank you.  Playfully, one time he chose to control the tilt of the glass, causing me to gulp sloppily, and I could tell that he was enjoying watching me guzzle the wine that remained in the glass.  Almost choking, I tried to accommodate the liquid as it poured into my mouth.  It was like the glass had grown in size.  I couldn’t take it all for some reason.  Ironically, now I didn’t want any but was forced to take what he wanted me to take.

 

Done eating, I wrapped my arms around my legs and waited, but quickly heard him reprimanding me.  "You aren't through yet, young lady." Panicking, my eyes searched the remains on my plate and found a few minuscule sprigs of broccoli stuck to a corner and some casserole sauce on the other side.  I felt dismayed when I began to realize what he was expecting me to do.  "Clean it," he barked.

 

Pausing only seconds to consider my options, I decided against picking up the plate. Taking what I had learned with another Dominant, I released my knees and positioned myself like a dog would, lowering my head.  On hands and knees, I licked at the remains.  The plate seemed huge as my tongue dragged across its smooth surface.  The sticky casserole was difficult to get off with my soft tongue, and I tried, unsuccessfully.  The broccoli disappeared quickly.  Thinking I was done, I sat down and gathered my knees in my arms once again.  Seconds later, though, I heard, "You aren't through until I say you are. Keep going."  I moaned softly, hoping he did not hear me, and repositioned myself over the “empty” plate once more.  Licking an apparently clean plate, which seemed larger with each lap of my tongue, I felt shame and humiliation, but I complied obediently, eager to please. 

 

After what seemed like forever, he patted my raised butt lightly with his flat palm and said, "OK, girl, you may clean up now." Quickly rising to my feet, I asked, "Would you care for dessert, Sir?  A cannoli?"  He nodded and took a sip of wine. 

 

Removing the plates, I brought the cannoli to him and returned to sitting at his feet, too nervous to even consider eating one of the sweets myself.  He handed me his empty plate, so I got up and began putting dishes into the dishwasher as he leaned in the doorway and watched.   His impatient demeanor made me even more nervous than before, but I tried to concentrate on rinsing another plate instead of predicting what may happen next.  Wincing slightly at his gruff tone, I rushed faster when he said, "Hurry up." Don't make me wait."  Rinsing the counter tops quickly, I completed the kitchen duty.  It was funny, but I didn’t remember the counters being so high.  And the plates were heavier than I recalled as well.  Instantly, he was behind me, guiding me to the bedroom. 

 

"Do you have a paddle?"

 

"No, Sir, but I have something you could use as one, a hairbrush," I replied nervously.

 

"Get it for me now! Don't make me wait all the time!" he barked.  Spinning in my tracks, I rushed to the bathroom and retrieved my hairbrush. 

 

"Hands and knees," he commanded.  I dropped to the floor, and spread my knees and raised my ass as I had been taught.  Rubbing the brush lightly over my ass cheeks and thighs, he then moved around my body and reached under me with it.  Breathing deeply, I could watch him take the self-fashioned "paddle" and lightly pat my breasts that were hanging down.  His intimidation was working.  "Yes, this will do nicely," he mumbled, more to himself than to me, "but I choose to use it later."  Standing tall again, he then instructed, "Get up on the bed now, and show me how you use your toys.  Please me. Get me excited," he said authoritatively as he moved the chair in the corner of the room to the foot of my bed. 

 

At a loss for where to begin, I cried incredulously, "All of them?  There are SO MANY, Sir!”  Reaching up, I stumbled as I crawled up onto the bed.  It too seemed much taller that I remembered.  He was making me so nervous!

 

"Just do it," he ordered.  Surveying the spread of sex toys, I selected my favorite toy, the Emerald Screw 8" battery-powered dildo.  Lying back on the bedspread, with my legs apart and my pussy facing where he sat in the chair, I positioned the dildo to the opening of my cunt and slid it in place.  Just as it disappeared completely inside me, I heard, "Did you ask permission to put it inside of you yet, Pamela?" 

 

Dismayed, I froze and replied miserably, "Well, no I didn't, Sir, but I thought you said to show you how..."

 

His stern expression was all it took for me to stop before finishing my sentence.  Immediately changing direction and complying with his nonverbal command, I asked, "Sir, may I please insert the dildo now?"  I watched as he nodded his approval, and it puzzled me that I was being allowed to look at him now.   However, I had more important things to consider.  He seemed so large and intimidating.

 

The dildo was already lodged deep within me, and it felt much larger than I remembered.  I followed his instruction and began to show him how I played with myself.  Sliding it in and out of my slippery, wet hole, I started moaning and (without asking permission) turned up the speed of the vibrations a bit.  The heat that had been in my blushing cheeks now seemed converged between my legs.  I started to feel the tension of a climax rising.  It seemed much wider and deeper and much more satisfying that the last time I had used it.

 

"OK, that is enough.  Stop now!" he commanded, and I froze, panting and aching for release.

 

"Use your butt plug now," he said, pointing at the red gel vibrator on the bedspread.

 

"Sir," I whined unceremoniously, "I have only used that twice before and never by myself.  Please, allow me to use this one instead."  I held out the much smaller black, hard plastic dildo and pleaded with my eyes for mercy.  Frowning and openly disappointed in my reluctance to demonstrate anal penetration, he silently agreed with an abrupt nod. 

 

Quickly, before he changed his mind, I slid the large black device inside my throbbing pussy.  Its vibrations were more intense due to the hardness of the plastic, and it also pressed harder on the tender lining of my pussy walls.  I enjoyed the sensation almost as much as I liked knowing that he was watching me so closely.  "Ahhhhhh," I moaned, starting to breathe erratically again. As he watched me, I felt as if he were growing, and I was so embarrassed, I felt as if I was shrinking.  The black lace robe the man had given to me at the store felt comforting perhaps because it made me feel like a prostitute, and prostitutes show off for their clientele all the time.  But they do it for money, and I was doing it because I had agreed to submit to this man.   

 

As I approached another climax, I heard him command, “Stop!”  I moaned louder this time, but not for pleasure...for agony! 

 

"Please.... let me cum, Sir. I am so close!" I begged. 

 

"You don't know how to beg very well, do you?  But you will learn, I can assure you.  No, you cannot cum yet. Take it out and get another toy to play with, now."  He leaned back and rested his head in his hands, enjoying my agonized expression.

 

I struggled with my thoughts, and my body squirmed irritably.  I didn't want to get another toy out, only to yet again be denied an orgasm.  My body language and my hesitation caused him to bark out another command.  "Get on your hands and knees, now!" His long finger pointed to the floor at his feet.  Miserably but quickly, I removed the dildo, set it down beside the green one, and slid off the bed.  The floor felt so far away.  Listening to his movements as I stared at the carpet, I did not dare actually look at him. 

 

Suddenly, I felt the bristles of the brush as he lightly dragged it across my skin.  Then he patted it against my ass cheeks in a faster motion.  Almost rubbing, kind of in a circular motion, he teased me with it.  He flipped it over, and SMACK! was the next sound that I heard.  It felt so much larger than a hairbrush should!  My body tensed as the pain from the first strike radiated throughout the skin of my right ass cheek. 

 

"My! You get pink very fast! I LIKE that," he grinned happily.  I felt the soft quick pats and rubbing again, and then another loud, SMACK! This time, it landed on my left cheek.  "What do you say when I spank you, Pamela?" 

 

I paused, forcing myself to think, and then instinctively knew the reply he sought, "Thank you, Sir!"

 

"Louder, so I can hear you when you talk to me!  Your voice is so soft!  Speak up!”

 

"THANK YOU, SIR!" I exclaimed, this time plenty loud enough. 

 

"Higher," he said, and I lifted my ass a bit higher, closer to his feet and, consequently, the paddle.  "Good girl." A few more smacks rang out, echoing on the walls of my bedroom.  "Next time don't make me wait so long." 

 

"I won't, Sir." I replied sadly, hanging my head and taking my punishment.  He stopped striking me, and I heard his clothes rustling.

 

Removing his slacks and underwear, he dropped into the chair and commanded quietly, "Suck me." 

 

His knees were apart so that I would have clear access to his manhood.  Rubbing my ass cheek with one hand, I crawled to him and knelt before him obediently.  First, I tickled the end of his cock with my wet tongue.  I moved it up and down the sides, and without being told, I lathed his balls with the flat part of my tongue, gently, just so he would know I was there but not feeling any pressure.  Then I moved my lips around the head and moved down, almost reaching its base where it grew out of a bed of tight, jet-black curls.  It was huge -- much bigger than I remembered.  What was going on? 

 

Bobbing up and down slowly, I alternately sucked and flicked my tongue on the head, trying desperately to take it all in, but it was impossible with each bob of my head failing to accomplish the task.  After struggling with this for a few more moments, he grasped my head by the hair and jerked me away from his cock. 

 

"Get back on the bed, face down this time."  Dismayed and confused, I complied with his wish and crawled up onto the bed once again, burying my face miserably in the spread.  My knees must have been weakened, because getting up on the bed was difficult.  But I couldn’t think about that right now because I was thinking, "What did I do wrong? Did he not enjoy my mouth?"

 

While I tortured myself with these thoughts, I allowed him to tie my feet to the two bedposts at the head of my bed.  Even in my misery at having failed to bring him to climax, I noticed that he was positioning me so I could still kneel, so I lifted my ass in another attempt to be pleasing.  Next, he cuffed my wrists to the foot of the bed, not bothering to ask if the metal cuffs were too tight or painful.  Careful not to complain, I stretched out uncomfortably, finding it difficult to keep my ass in the air.  Taking note of this, he quickly released the cuffs and re-attached them first to his belt and then to the foot of the bed.  This technique allowed me some more freedom of movement.  Had the bed gotten longer?  Or was I shrinking?  The black lace of the robe fell softly around me, and it didn’t seem to be getting bigger.  But everything else seemed to be.  What was going on?  As I pondered this, I could hear Joe and that caught my attention again.

 

Moving behind me, he picked up the K-Y jelly and the red, medium butt plug which I had protested using earlier.  Nervously, I lowered my ass slightly.  Tossing the plug toward my head where I could see it, he slid the green dildo inside my pussy and roughly began pumping it in and out.  Could it be that it was even larger than a few minutes before?  It was so tight inside of me! 

 

He knew I was thinking more about the butt plug than enjoying the dildo fucking, but after a bit, he sensed that I was starting to relax.  "Ahhhhhhhhh," I moaned, enjoying the feeling of having my pussy fucked.  I even closed my eyes tightly and gave into the sensations, hoping that maybe he would allow me to climax soon.

 

Instead, he inserted a lubricated finger into my tight anal opening, and my eyes popped open and saw that the plug was no longer there.  Pressing his finger left and right, I noticed gratefully that he was stretching the tight sphincter muscle.  Relieved and finally relaxing, I began to enjoy the sensation.  Prepared now, my ass hole accepted the plug he firmly inserted.  It surprised me that he was able to easily move the plug in and out of my anal passage.  It seemed immense, and although it was very tight, I stretched to accommodate it.  The sensations were so intense, a mixture of pain and pleasure, but soon the pleasure overcame the fear and pain.  I was overwhelmed with a feeling of wanting to please this man.  I couldn’t stand just being fucked with the toys.  I wanted his cock inside me, and to feel him climax within my depths.

 

Gathering as much courage as I could, I blurted, "Please fuck me, Sir."  As soon as the words were hanging in the air, I realized that I had made a mistake yet again.  Plus, I should definitely learn how to beg better!

 

"Do you think you deserve my cock yet?" he asked. 

 

"I have tried to obey, Sir.  I want to please you.  Cum for me, and allow me to cum.  Please, just fuck me," I whined pathetically, squirming and waggling my ass in his direction. 

 

"You certainly do not deserve to cum, you little slut.  You have displeased me more than once tonight.  What you deserve is to be punished, not pleased.  Take the plug first for a while longer, and then I might consider fucking you, but I will do it when I chose to.  Do you understand me?"

 

With that final question, he smacked my ass a few times with the palm of his free hand.  Each blow caused my muscles to constrict more tightly around the butt plug.  I struggled to accept this punishment.  The mental anguish and harsh words were harder to take than the pain.  "Thank you, Sir!" I cried after each smack. 

 

Idly, using my body as he wished, he massaged my ass cheeks, feeling the heat of the red skin.  Almost as an afterthought, he chose to press my buns tightly together, knowing that it caused pressure against the plug in my anal passage.  That combined with the green dildo in my other hole made it uncomfortable.  Moaning softly, I struggled to accept my lot.  "When will I learn to just accept what he wants to do to me, when he wants to do it!" I chastised myself. 

 

As my body reacted to the pain mixed with pleasure, he realized I was close to building to a climax.  Ever in control of the situation, he prevented that by ceasing activity with the toys.  He enjoyed his power over me. 

I could feel his eyes staring at me.  As he watched me as I came close to a climax, he made a comment that I thought was a bit strange.  “Okay, Pamela, I will fuck you now before it is too late.”

 

I thought, “Too late for what?  It is still early in the evening.  What is he referring to?”

 

Suddenly, he withdrew the toys and dropped them to the floor, out of the way.  Releasing my feet from the bedposts, he maneuvered me onto my back roughly.  Grabbing the black dildo, he started fucking me again, this time with the hard plastic dildo.  Alternately staring at my facial expressions and the black shaft disappearing and reappearing from my pussy, his expression changed all of a sudden to one of compassion and sympathy.  I think I even saw the corner of his mouth turn up in a small smile.  When he chose to combine his fucking action with rubbing his thumb back and forth across my clit, I couldn't stand it anymore.

 

Moaning uncontrollably, I begged, "Please, Sir! Now, please!  May I cum?" 

 

But the more I begged, and the closer to a climax I came, the longer he would pause his activities with my soaking-wet pussy.  Almost in tears, I cried, "Please!  SIR" and lifted my hips toward the wonderful pressure and friction of his thumb. 

 

At last, whether because I had learned to beg to his liking or because he had discovered mercy, he allowed me to release, and I shuddered in a strong orgasm.  I strained against the cuffs holding my wrists, but the pain of the metal biting into my flesh didn't matter to me.  My thoughts and attention were focused on my throbbing pussy.  The world melted away for the moment. 

 

Panting for breath, I collapsed, sinking into the bed cover.  Vaguely, I realized that he had released my hand restraints.  "Good girl," he rewarded me with a kind word, and I smiled brightly.  "NOW you deserve to be fucked. Get in position."

 

Without saying a word, I quickly rolled over and assumed the "doggie style" position.  I knew this would please him.  I was rewarded by the sound of a condom being torn open.  Sliding it on efficiently, he moved the tip of his cock up and down my slit, pausing at the still-slippery anus opening.  This caused me to pull slightly away from him. That elicited a strong SMACK of his hand on my ass cheek and a loud reprimand, "Do not EVER pull away from me!" 

 

"Yes, Sir, and thank you, Sir," I quickly replied, careful not to forget to thank him for my punishment. 

 

Abruptly, he got off of the bed, and I thought with dismay that he was NOT going to fuck me now! I almost panicked!  Instead, he got nipple clamps and attached them to my hard pink knobs.  They immediately grew tender, responding to the tightness of the clamps and the restriction of blood flow.  He put the chain in my teeth and told me to pull it, to stretch the nipples upward.  "OOOOooooo," I moaned at the intense feeling, and when I did, the chain slipped out of my teeth.  It felt so big in between my teeth.

 

"YOU DROPPED IT!" he exclaimed in surprise and smacked my ass with his hand for this insubordination.  I quickly replaced the chain in my mouth and started tugging at it again to appease him.  Having to cause my own torment in this way caused me to blush in embarrassment, but I didn't dare complain.  The clamps felt enormous.

 

Finally, he said I could drop the chain and resume the doggie position.  Without hesitating this time, he immediately shoved his cock into the pink opening to my love canal.  His shaft slipped inside easily, and I compressed my pussy walls against its length as it moved in and out of me.  Faster and harder he pumped.  I could hear the slap, slap, slap sound of his hips striking against my pussy and ass cheeks.  I LOVE that sound! 

 

Even as I enjoyed the fucking action, I felt the heat radiating in the skin of my buns from the spankings I had endured earlier.  So many sensations to experience!  He filled me up, stretching me, and it seemed as if he was growing even larger with each thrust.

 

"Play with your clit," he commanded, and I gladly obliged.  I raised my ass up a bit higher, and then reached to where his balls hung down behind me. I lightly cupped them in my palm and heard him reward me with a grunt and sigh of pleasure.  I smiled inwardly.  Then, I returned to accomplish what he had commanded, and began moving my finger back and forth across my clit. It was incredibly wet and hard.  I could feel it being tugged as his cock moved deeply inside me, stretching me.

 

He smacked my ass cheek a few times sporadically with his palm as he fucked me. This elicited a gasp and a high-pitched squeak from me.  I am sure that he enjoyed the tightened pussy muscles around his shaft that the unexpected smacks caused.  He grunted loudly and shifted his cock deep inside me as he exploded in his first orgasm. 

 

Withdrawing his cock, he collapsed on the bed beside me.  Gently, I removed and discarded the used condom.  We held each other as our breathing returned to normal.  Satiated for the moment, his breathing returned to normal. 

 

“There is something you should know, Pamela,” he said softly. 

 

I snuggled closer and his arm wrapped all the way around me.  “Yes, Sir.”

 

“You have been shrinking all night long.  You are only about 3 feet tall now, and that is why my cock felt so large inside you.  I wanted to fuck you before it was too late – and you were too small to accommodate me any more.  Selfishly, I didn’t want to say anything sooner, because I didn’t want to panic you.  But I think you are still shrinking.  And I want you to know that no matter how small you get, don’t worry.  You will still be able to please me.  You will be mine.  Do you understand?”

 

“What?” I cried, getting up to look in the mirror on the dresser, but it was too tall for me to see.  He easily lifted me up so I could see myself next to him.  I was HALF his size, and growing smaller by the moment.  “How can this be?  If I was shrinking, then my clothing would be bigger…but it isn’t!” I exclaimed, almost going into shock. 

 

Gently he set me back down.  “Where did you say you bought this outfit?” he asked, rubbing my arm to comfort me.  “Perhaps it is doing this to you?”

 

“Giant Sex Toys & Magic Lingerie,” I recalled.  Quickly, I started to remove the robe. 

 

“No, not yet!” he barked.  “I want you to get a bit smaller first.”

 

“What!” I cried as I still tried to remove the garment.  “Why?” 

 

He grabbed my hands to prevent me from moving, and he held me down against the bed.  It was easy for him to do so because he could easily overpower me.  “PLEASE!  Let me go!  Take this off so I don’t disappear!”  I started sobbing hysterically. 

 

“Shhh, calm down, sweetie.  This is absolutely amazing that we get to experience this.”

 

“But YOU aren’t. I am, and I don’t want to shrink!  I demand you let me go now!”  Growing smaller by the moment, I sobbed even harder.  “Please, don’t let this happen to me!  I will submit to you no matter what my size is.  You don’t have to force me to do it!”

 

“Oh, my darling, but when you are small, you will be able to go with me wherever I go.  I will be able to care for you, and do with you whatever I want to do.  Isn’t that exciting?”

 

As his hands increased in size compared to my shrinking arms, I knew I couldn’t escape.  And I couldn’t convince him to help me.  Now I was about 1 foot tall, then 10 inches, then 8 inches.  At last, he gently removed the black lace robe, and I stopped shrinking.  “There now!  You are perfect.  And you are all mine.” 

 

Sobbing, I felt his fingers wrap around me, and I was being lifted up. He set me on the dresser and got himself dressed.  “You won’t be needing this apartment any more.  You are coming with me from now on,” he said gleefully.  Picking me up once again, he slipped me into his pocket.  “This lingerie you chose must have been magic.  I couldn’t be happier, and Pamela, you know that a Dominant’s desires must be satisfied.”

 

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter End Notes:

I attempted to combine the shrinking size differential with my leanings toward BDSM and D/s.  I hope you like it.

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