After weeks of watching dominant bulls forcefully take mens wives, the tone of Honey's gym commentary changed too.
She commented more on the musclular guys: “Hrrrnnnn - I could lift this weight with my dick - ahhhhhh - I need my workout shorts to be this tight or it might escape and burst forth seducing all the women in the gym” I could hear the jealousy in her affectation, “Oh I’m little miss perfect buns, gonna go home with all three of these big muscly boys tonight.” The jokes and judgement were still there but they were barbed roses, meant to draw blood.
Honey, the commensurate actress, dialing up the heat on the burner right when needed.
It was no surprise when given the option to pick a video for our play session I surveyed the recommended, finding it filled with burley muscle men, that I noticed a “Take My Wife” video of a personal trainer cuckolding a husband by, well, taking his wife. Like everything before, I chose my own doom, clicking with curiosity and anticipation of the sweet sexual tension between my wife strictly teasing me towards cumming and myself subtly pushing her to reveal that she wanted to have sex with someone else. Somehow I thought myself the deceiver. She was too clever to give in right away. It was only after a week of me picking videos where a wimp husband sits masturbating by watching while a muscly man takes his wife that she coyly introduced the possibility, “Do you wish that was me?” My dick twitched under her bare toes, toenails a sunny bright yellow as they curled around the tip of my penis.
“Do you wish your girlfriend was getting it deep from some young stud?”
I twitched again.
“And you watching? The expert in her pleasure? Her devoted lover?”
She raised the vibration setting.
“Oh you like that yes? maybe I should do it?”
I throbbed. She tapped her watch, two minutes left.
“Let’s make it fair, if you DON’T want me to do it, then cum now. Hold out and, well, I’ll know what you want.”
I didn’t know what I wanted. I wanted to cum, to make her happy, to not cum, to be her man, to see her taken, to take her. I almost came as I thought about her and a series of men from the videos and the gym, but I held it a bit longer riding the sensations of the vibrator before letting it out. She tapped her watch “15 minutes... and three seconds.”
“Guess you just needed the right motivation”, she winked.
Afterwards, cuddling in bed, she turned her head back towards me and said, “I won’t you know, not unless you really want me to. Not without your permission honey.” and she pecked me on the cheek.
Eventually I felt guilty enough for my limp penis and insufficient tongue that I meekly gave her the permission she never really needed. “If you need more,” I said, holding my limp dick, which I had just masturbated to ejaculation on her toes at her gentle coaxing, “then you can.”
I don’t know if she started right away, if she’d been seeing them before, but soon after she’d respond to a text with, “sorry sweetie, busy now with a gym buddy” or “getting my second workout in honey 😉💋”
I think it was intentional, that they were men from the gym where we worked out together.A ploy to emasculate me further. Every dumb meathead she had teased in quips to me, now would see her naked and spread for their pleasure. I was less than them. No matter my other appeals to her these oafs could serve her needs in ways I found myself unable to.
There was no doubt with the smirks I got at the gym. Guys directly sizing up honey’s legs and ass right in front of me. Guys coming over and asking her if she was free for lunch. She always was. Always had an opening for some extra training. I couldn’t hide my jealousy. She tried to make it up to me. She gave me special treatment. Soft slow caresses, warm wet blowjobs, sweet kisses and compliments, playful ass taps, and sultry strip teases as she got in and out of the shower.
This was a silver lining: sex had started to feel playful again, lifting out of the valley of our training which had gone from exciting and new to repetitive and frustrating. This too was a masterful stroke. She leaned into it. Teased with small details. Brought back our playful gym banter, calling one big boy a “jackhammer who couldn’t find how to pleasure a woman if it was marked on map with an x” and describing another as an “early starter, real firehose, but on a 30 second timer.”
She was easing me into this idea by making me feel these men were still not my match. My tongue and caress had them all beat. She had dipped me into the torture of self doubt and loathing only to offer me a helping hand out. A helping hand that came with conditions of course.
“Maybe you should show them how to treat a lady,” she suggested as I lapped at her pussy hungrily avoiding thinking about the obvious source of the salty notes on my tongue.
She’d moan as I pushed my tongue inside, as I thrust my face and nose against her, as I let her grab my hair and grind me.
One day I came home to her and a workout buddy doing stretches, still clothed, and she smiled at me mischievously, those sharp teethpeeking out again.
“Devon I think I need a cool down, should we break? The stuff for the shakes is in the kitchen.”
The sweaty man nodded with a grunt and walked past me a cloud of musky smell. He stood in the kitchen and pulled out the Magic Bullet and the powder jar as focused on his task as he had been on his workout.
Honey was slipping off her spandex tights, no underwear, dripping sweat and more, she gestured me over. I hesitated looking to the man who now had his back to us.
“Devon won’t mind”, she whispered to me, “be quick.”
I knelt in front of her, blushing red and licked salty sweat up her thigh to the rich scent of her pussy lips. I was both terrified and turned on of being caught. The blender whirred and she let out a muffled moan under its cover. I took the moment to push in deeper, perhaps I could get her off quickly and save myself the embarrassment.
Her hips pushed back, another moan, half heartedly stifled, sent another shiver of fear and excitement down my back. I heard the Magic Bullet stop whirring and I went to pull away but felt her thighs lock around my head and her fingers threading through my hair. She rubbed herself on my face her abs flexing as she did. She let out moans now, no pretense of hiding them, I felt the embarrassment in my cheeks, knowing he’d be watching now, but also felt an undercurrent of pride in how she was being so clearly satisfied by me and not him.
I alternated quick licks with smooth thrusts and constant rubbing as her breathing became staccato and her moans sharper. I felt her legs tighten, muscles tense, body holding onto the feeling as I pushed my sore jaw to its limit, then I fellt her spasm, her thighs pulling my head left as she tried to hold herself rigid. I felt the warmth of her wetness adding to my saliva. Her pitched moan collapsed into a contented sigh and her legs slacked and opened.
I sat up and back. For a moment I just looked at her, eyes closed, contentedly collapsed on the yoga mat. Then slowly I dared to look around. Devon was leaning on the counter, his light sleeveless gyn shirt showing off bulging biceps as he sipped from a glass of peanut butter brown protein shake. He smiled in good humor at me, giving a casual thumbs up with the other hand.
“I wish my cool downs were that rewarding,” he joked to break the tension.
My mind oscillated between shame and pride, each stepping on the other as my heart raced. My jaw was sore and my throat was tight. I couldn’t speak. I kneeled mutely on the yoga mat as my girlfriend heaved in big meditative calming breaths. I tried to match her rhythm. After minutes that felt like hours she opened her eyes.
“I think we can all use a quick post-workout shower. Devon, there’s a towel in the guest bath. I’ve got to reward somebody for good behavior.”
She got to her feet giving me, and Devon, a full view of her long glistening legs and dripping wet pussy.
Devon finished the last of his shake. “Sounds good. Same time next week?”
Honey nodded to him as she pulled me up off the mat and led me stumbling into the bedroom.
The changes came more quickly then.
I'd noticed I had put on weight around my hips, finding them flaring out a bit from waist. More than that, I'd found my chest wasn't laying flat under my shirt. My suspicions flared up under my new anxieties.
When Honey was in the shower I took a peek through her browser history. Like every breadcrumb she had placed before me she'd crafted a carefully curated trail of manipulation:
- "Am I into men and women?"
- "How to help my boyfriend become more feminine looking?"
- "lesbian porn"
- "trans porn brunette"
- "what does estrogen taste like"
- "is it okay if want my boyfriend to be more girly?"
- "pussy licking sub"
I clicked away from the browser tab when I heard the water shut off, but I felt my dick stiffening in my boxers.
The next day she engineered a spill while all my underwear was in the wash. It wouldn't be a problem to wear a pair of her panties would it. She pouted for full effect. When I had the yellow silk against my cock she shamelessly milked me through them, kneeling in front of me and licking the tip through the sheer fabric.
I suspected the manipulation then, not the extent of it, but I could sense its outline lurking in the dark of her eyes.
At the gym a few weeks later Honey noted my changing physique.
"Dayum. I bet any of the girls in here wish they had your figure."
She gave a sly smile as she made eye contact with a very fit nearby blonde and made Vanna White hands towards my legs and ass. I blushed.
"Honey!"
"Ok. Ok. But let me get you alone because I'm ready to go."
She ushered me into the girls changing room before I realized what was happening. To my relief the room was empty.
Honey pushed me onto the bench and pulled off my top lustfully.
"Oh my god! Are those breasts?"
"It's the diet." I stammered, not sure I should confront her.
"I've heard that maybe soy could have effects, but I thought that was just urban legend"
She touched my perky nipples, "are they sensitive?"
"Yes!" I squeaked
She giggled taking her hand away.
"Is it wrong to say that I kind of like them?"
I blushed deeper, thinking back to my discovery of her bisexual desires.
"I never thought I'd get to suck a girls dick in the mens locker room," she said, her hands pulling off my shorts and using her teeth to pull down my boxer briefs.
While Honey was finishing her blowjob, my semen dripping down her lip, a pair of blonde women walked in. The first blushed and quickly turned her head away. The other took a moment longer, her gaze passing over my budding breasts before turning away with a spreading grin.
The gym incident ended up being fruitful for Honey. A couple of women connected with her at the gym letting her know they hadn’t known she swung that way. The kernel of any good lie is an underlying truth and from her enthusiastic retelling of her lesbian explorations Honey was certainly bisexual. She could appreciate the soft curve of a woman’s back, the tangy taste of her pussy, and the soft pressure of breast against breast. Her descriptions were delicious and I found days later I could almost taste the sweat they left on her skin.
With Honey finding herself busier than ever with work and suitors I took over more cooking and house responsibilities. It was only fair.
My first few dinners were, well let’s call them underwhelming. But I’ve learned persistence outpaces knowledge or skill. I diligently read up on Cook’s Magazine and watched old Julia Child shows. Until one night I surprised Honey with a roast pheasant. Did you know you can pickup pheasant at Whole Foods? They’re small so they cook pretty quickly. When she took the first bite I swear she moaned the same way she does when she orgasms.
My figure continued to become more feminine. I found I couldn’t stop drinking the shakes, even as my hips fully rounded and my breasts became unmistakable bumps under my tshirts. I knew logically that I should stop, that this was crazy, that she was manipulating me, that she had been from the start. However, a deep emotional part of me had absolute certainty that if Honey was doing this to me, transforming me like this, then it was for my own good. If it made her happy, made us happy, then it couldn’t be wrong.
Who knows if that makes sense from the outside. I only have my own perspective shaped by my experience and the best experience I’ve ever had is every moment I’ve spent with her.
Growing my hair out felt only natural. She never asked, barely commented on it even, just let it get longer and longer with unstated approval. One day she ran her hand through it and said, “It’s so fine. You have really lovely hair.” A shock of pride and joy drove me into her embrace and she let me rest there, gently stroking my head.
Around the house she started to tease me with a “hey girl” or a “looking good sugar”.
She had me try on one of her dresses. Then later a pair of panties during a heated teasing session.
For my birthday she bought me a training bra with little push up cups.
For Valentine’s Day she shaved my legs and dressed me in lingerie before letting me thrust into her. I cleaned up the little bit of cum that dribbled out of her pussy after of course.
She dressed me up in skirts and tights or gym tights spandex and took me along on some of her dates. First to watch and tease the lucky men and women and later to help pleasure and clean them.
She started seeing someone steady then. Or so I thought. He was "kinky" she said, “like you,” she said, as her daisy yellow toenail circled my chastity cage. We were trying cages out as an alternative to tucking. It was a thrilling bit of orgasm denial play.
This mystery man would take her to the fetish club. She said they didn’t do anything yet, just watched others play. “Did you know these little cages can go all the way flat?” She asked pushing a slim finger between the bars of mine, pushing my semi hard little chub further back.
“There are so many girlies like you there,” she teased, “but honestly I think you are better behaved.” She stopped toying with my cage and lifted her leg up cradling my head with her heel and pulling me towards her, “more eager to please.”
“Would you come along with me sometime?” Her eyes were those shimmering pools of brown glittering in the light.
“I want you to show me, to show everyone there just how amazing my girl is. Do you think you can do that?”
I didn’t speak just let her heel finish pulling me in to my worship.
