robert0000
Virgin
- Joined
- Mar 17, 2011
- Posts
- 4
Apologies if this is inappropriate for the forum, but I was quite pleased with a caption I wrote for a bit of someone else's fetish art of a man obliged to wear a maid's costume. I hope that others might find it titillating.
https://www.********.com/photo/29722392/?pgid=&gid=2725387&page=0
CAPTION
What had seemed like a cheeky prank was clearly a gross error of judgment. I had assumed that my girlfriend's party was a low-key affair and that with the rest of the lads we would provide a lively diversion.
At the appointed hour I emerged from my hiding place to find that I was the only one of the conspirators to follow through. If the others were present, they were still out of sight, but I suspected that they had either bottled it or set me up for a fall.
My girlfriend was furious at first, wanting to cast me out, but softened when her friends persuaded her to let me stay and carry out the duties befitting my maid costume. I suspected, rightly, that her fury would have been preferable, but queasily accepted my role of serving drinks and clearing glasses.
Even my early trips to and from the kitchen were a gauntlet of wandering hands.
On the third I became waylaid in the hallway. The tray was too heavy to hold with one hand, leaving me with no facility to bat away guests who sought to delve beneath my skirt and draw my knickers down to my shins. Thus hobbled, I twisted vainly from one woman's grasp to another, unbearably aroused and beginning to whimper.
I caught my girlfriend's eye as she approached. If she understood my appeal for clemency, she flatly rejected it. My fondlers slowed but did not stop as she tapped her glass with her ringed finger, bringing a hush to the hubbub.
"I just wanted to thank you all for coming," she said. "And to my darling boyfriend, who I can hear is about to come."
Laughter eclipsed my keening till she gestured for quiet.
"I love you all dearly, even my uninvited guest, and I want you all to know, truly, what's mine is yours. It can sometimes be difficult to know how to end a speech, but I think we're about 30 seconds from a natural conclusion, aren't we, darling?"
She began a countdown that became a chorus.
"30, 29, 28..."
I wondered if I could hold out that long. Even in my shame I was desperate not to disappoint.
"...25, 24, 24..."
The atmosphere was like New Year's Eve, a crowd waiting for a firework. "
...20, 19, 18..."
My cock glistened in the lamplight. A streak of saliva dropped from my lolling jaw.
"... 15, 14, 13..."
If I could just suppress my climax a bit longer, at least I would succeed as a party entertainer.
"... 10, 9, 8..."
Moistened fingers suddenly entered my bottom. I gasped, air squeaking into my throat in horror at the convulsions that followed.
"... 5, 4..."
Some got as far as three but by then my sperm had hit the floor. I think I heard a two from the back of the room before the countdown was replaced by a sigh of a sports crowd seeing an opportunity squandered.
The only remaining sound of excitement came from my mouth, a cry of ecstasy entirely out of step with the prevailing mood.
In the silence that followed, the last word went to my girlfriend, stepping forward to take a drink from my tray. She jutted her chin forward close enough for a fleck of spit to strike my chin.
"Pathetic."
https://www.********.com/photo/29722392/?pgid=&gid=2725387&page=0
CAPTION
What had seemed like a cheeky prank was clearly a gross error of judgment. I had assumed that my girlfriend's party was a low-key affair and that with the rest of the lads we would provide a lively diversion.
At the appointed hour I emerged from my hiding place to find that I was the only one of the conspirators to follow through. If the others were present, they were still out of sight, but I suspected that they had either bottled it or set me up for a fall.
My girlfriend was furious at first, wanting to cast me out, but softened when her friends persuaded her to let me stay and carry out the duties befitting my maid costume. I suspected, rightly, that her fury would have been preferable, but queasily accepted my role of serving drinks and clearing glasses.
Even my early trips to and from the kitchen were a gauntlet of wandering hands.
On the third I became waylaid in the hallway. The tray was too heavy to hold with one hand, leaving me with no facility to bat away guests who sought to delve beneath my skirt and draw my knickers down to my shins. Thus hobbled, I twisted vainly from one woman's grasp to another, unbearably aroused and beginning to whimper.
I caught my girlfriend's eye as she approached. If she understood my appeal for clemency, she flatly rejected it. My fondlers slowed but did not stop as she tapped her glass with her ringed finger, bringing a hush to the hubbub.
"I just wanted to thank you all for coming," she said. "And to my darling boyfriend, who I can hear is about to come."
Laughter eclipsed my keening till she gestured for quiet.
"I love you all dearly, even my uninvited guest, and I want you all to know, truly, what's mine is yours. It can sometimes be difficult to know how to end a speech, but I think we're about 30 seconds from a natural conclusion, aren't we, darling?"
She began a countdown that became a chorus.
"30, 29, 28..."
I wondered if I could hold out that long. Even in my shame I was desperate not to disappoint.
"...25, 24, 24..."
The atmosphere was like New Year's Eve, a crowd waiting for a firework. "
...20, 19, 18..."
My cock glistened in the lamplight. A streak of saliva dropped from my lolling jaw.
"... 15, 14, 13..."
If I could just suppress my climax a bit longer, at least I would succeed as a party entertainer.
"... 10, 9, 8..."
Moistened fingers suddenly entered my bottom. I gasped, air squeaking into my throat in horror at the convulsions that followed.
"... 5, 4..."
Some got as far as three but by then my sperm had hit the floor. I think I heard a two from the back of the room before the countdown was replaced by a sigh of a sports crowd seeing an opportunity squandered.
The only remaining sound of excitement came from my mouth, a cry of ecstasy entirely out of step with the prevailing mood.
In the silence that followed, the last word went to my girlfriend, stepping forward to take a drink from my tray. She jutted her chin forward close enough for a fleck of spit to strike my chin.
"Pathetic."
