I am a pan crossdresser in my late 40s who presents male in my career, but as soon I get home I dress in my true feminine form and present as female at home, the grocery store, at restaurants, and other public places. I live about an hour and a half commute from work and live on a secluded piece of land in a small town, so it is easy to keep my two lives separate. I have a passion for vintage lingerie, high heels, and presenting myself as the woman I am. As a pan woman, I enjoy sex in its many and varied forms with men, women, other crossdressers, and trans men and women. In the world of BDSM I am Domme with men and sub with women. This true story is about an overnight getaway with a dear female friend is who quite the sensuous Domme. As my first foray into writing, I do hope you enjoy it as much as I did living it.

I had spent the entire past two weeks in a constant state of arousal and nerves after Beth contacted me, inviting me to an overnight getaway. She is a 'normal' 43-year old woman whose day to day life hides her insatiable sex drive and her power as a Domme. At only 5'1" and 107 pounds, no one would assume she possesses such power. Such is her secret weapon. Behind her piercing blue eyes and raven hair that flows over her firm 34C breasts lies a woman who can control one's pleasure, one's pain, and one's desires for both.

At 6'0" tall and 152 pounds I am a towering figure in contrast to her. When we are out in public together in vanilla mode at a pub, a winery, or a brewery, we draw stares because of contrast, and because I go nowhere without high heels. I am addicted to my shoes and 3 1/2" heels are the minimum morning, noon, and night. At night they are usually 4" to 5" heels. So I tower over the tiny, sexy woman with the firm, tight ass and shapely legs who controls me when we are together sexually. Admittedly, I am addicted to hard cock and cum, but I am equally addicted to tender pussy and the delectable juices that flow forth. And I am addicted to her power.

The morning of our getaway, I dressed in a black and leopard corselette with 6 garters, black seamed stockings, black 4" peeptoe pumps, a black linen pencil skirt that came about halfway up my thighs, and a silk leopard print blouse. I packed my overnight bag with two changes of clothes: a form-fitting tasteful dress in my signature purple, a black corselette with garters, and nude seamed stockings, and a slutty outift of a micro mini skater skirt, black leather corset with garters, and thigh high leather boots. And, of course, makeup and other toiletries. I poured a dirty martini and waited, not knowing where we were going or what the plans were: simply that she was in charge...

I was about 2/3 the way through my martini when I heard her car come up the drive. I set the glass on the end table, grabbed my bag, and ran to the door. I was so happy to see Beth. She ran into my arms, we embraced, and kissed a deep, sensuous kiss, our tongues entwining, exploring. After a few seconds, she pulled away, saying, "That's enough for now, we have a long night ahead of us."

It was 1:30 p.m.

We drove for about an hour and a half to an historic boutique hotel with a fine dining restaurant and an ancient bar where one can get lost in all the carved graffiti. We took our bags up the stairs to the front desk and checked in to the suite she had reserved. It was only one floor up and the porter struggled with her massive suitcase as I took my much smaller bag up on my own. She had me unpack my bag first in the dressing room and then handed me a bottle of Controlee St. Emilion to open in the bedroom as well as two wine glasses and, curiously, one martini glass. As I opened the wine and poured two glasses, she, in private, unpacked her bag of clothes as well as sexual paraphernalia out of my sight. "The wine is poured, my love."

"That is Mistress, to you, dear. Strike one."

"The wine is poured, Mistress."

"Much better, my pet."

She sauntered into the room in the same clothes as she had picked me up in: a form-fitting gold brocade mini dress that accented her lovely legs and showed off her cleavage for anyone with eyes. She was wearing 6" black heels with a 2" platform. Her hair was now pulled back in a severe pony tail with elastic holders at three places along its length..

Taking the wine glass from my hand, sitting at the window table, and beckoning me to sit, she said, "Here are the rules for the night. Dinner is dinner. You may address me as Beth or Mistress over dinner, but any other pet name is a strike. After dinner, I will retire to the room to prepare. You will take care of the bill, go to the bar, order a dirty martini, and wait for my text. Once you receive the text, you will come up to the room, enter silently, and await instructions. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my Mistress."

My stomach turned with joyous anticipation. And hunger. I had been on a liquid diet for 5 days to make sure that I would be clean for her. I couldn't wait for dinner. We made small talk at the table while sipping the incredible wine, informing each other about our week at work and about the lives of her husband and two children. Yes, a very 'normal' woman.

At 5:00 on the button, she rose, "Our reservation is ready. Come, my pet, let us indulge."

She put out her hand for me and I took it readily, rising from my seat.

"You look stunning, my Mistress. The most beautiful woman in the room tonight, I am certain."

"Thank you, my pet, but that does not erase your strike."

We laughed, emptied our glasses, set them down on the table, and walked to the door. We each checked our clutches for phone, room key, lipstick, and compact, and then proceeded to the door. The walk to the dining room was tense with sexual energy. I could smell her perfume and her sex, and she could smell mine. Though tucked away, my shecock was already leaking precum from the anticipation of what was to come. At her directive, I had not masturbated since receiving her invitation two weeks ago and I was full and in need of release.

She ordered dinner and drinks for me, insisting on my favorite, a dirty martini with the appetizer, and a bottle of Controlee Margaux with dinner. Dinner was more than food: it was an erotic adventure watching her eat, placing the food gently on her tongue as the fork slipped over those full, talented lips as her foot touched first my ankle and then worked its way up my leg to my hemline. For dessert, we shared a chocolate mousse in raspberry sauce, feeding each other morsels of rich chocolate, dripping in sauce, turning the spoon over to lick it clean with each bite as if it were a cock or clit we were cleaning. By the end of dessert, my panties were soaked, and from the delicate scent rising before, so were hers.

She excused herself and directed me to follow the instructions, kissing me lightly as she strutted from the room, drawing watchful eyes from around the restaurant. I asked the waiter for the bill, and although he had been quite attentive, he oddly disappeared, taking over 20 minutes to return to the table. I was so anxious - I couldn't be late when she texted for me. I kept checking my phone and, luckily, she had not contacted me yet. Somewhere along the way I came to the conclusion that she must have arranged this with the waiter.

Upon finally receiving the bill, which he presented with a knowing grin, I left him a hefty tip for being such a good boy. I then gathered up the half empty bottle of Margaux and proceeded to the bar. I felt like eyes were on me as I stood and walked ever so slowly across the restaurant. At my height in heels, it is not uncommon, but I was self conscious about the precum on my thighs, and knowing that erotic adventures lie ahead. I sat at the bar and ordered another dirty martini, paid the tab, and sipped the cocktail slowly so as to not get intoxicated: my intoxication lay ahead at her whim. About halfway through the martini I received a text. 'Now' was all it said.

I immediately stood and walked to the main stairs in the lobby and up to the suite. Upon opening the door, her voice came from the dressing room, saying, "Turn around and face the door. Do not look around the room. Take off your skirt, blouse, and panties. Look at the table to the right. You'll know what to do."

There was a blindfold, a medium sized plug, and a bottle of lube. I unzipped my skirt, let it fall to the floor, and stepped out of it. I unbuttoned my blouse, and with every button my breathing was deeper and faster as if her hands were taking it off of me. I slipped it off my shoulders to the floor. I slid the panties down my long legs and kicked them to the side. Using the lube, I inserted the plug, feeling nicely full, and finally put on the blindfold. And then waited.

My olfactory senses were heightened. I could smell lavender bath salts: she had taken the clothes off her beautiful body and lounged in the tub while I waited for the waiter to return. I could hear her moving about in the dressing room. She was wearing heels. And had reapplied her Chanel. My heart was trying to escape my chest.

I heard her walk out of the dressing room and into the bedroom. She stopped. She adjusted something on a table across the room. I then heard her walk toward me. A riding crop came crashing down across my wanton ass. It was divine, painfully divine. The crop then traced lines around my thighs, ass, back, and torso as she walked around me two or three times. Brushing against, me I could tell she was wearing silk of some kind.

"Turn around and face away from the door. Now walk."

With the blindfold on I was uncertain in my step, and she prodded me and guided me with the crop: after several missteps I determined that a smack on the right thigh to move left, a strike on the left thigh to move right.

"Turn right." I could feel the window in front of me, the fading daylight warm on my face. I turned right.

I kept walked, kept straight by the strikes of the riding crop, my flesh heating up along the outsides of my thighs, while wetness dripped down the insides.

"Did I say you could leak precum?"

"No, my Mistress."

The crop came down hard upon my ass. She now had the crop on my balls and was using pressure on the insides of my thighs to guide me.

"Turn right again. Stop!" The crop came crashing up on my balls. "Now, bend over at the waist, letting your hands fall free."

As I bent forward my hands touched the edge of the bed. The riding crop came up upon my balls once more. WIncing in pain, I froze.

I waited, hearing her movements. Something placed on the bed. Something lifted from a table. Then I waited again.

A flogger came down across my back and ass in rapid succession, hard enough to be painful, light enough to be sensual. My back arched with each strike upon it, my hips rocked with each strike upon my ass. My legs were aflame from the riding crop, now my back and ass were aflame as well. Then she stopped.

Then I felt her hands upon my feet and ass as she began rubbing up and down my legs and ass, slowly, tenderly. Then her teeth laid into my right ass cheek biting deep as her left hand cupped my full, aching balls. She squeezed them tighter as she released her mouth. She then softly, tenderly licked where she had bitten as her hand moved to my cock, stroking it three deliberate strokes before the crop came down upon my back.

She then wrapped around my legs like a snake, I could feel the soft silk of a robe and her tender lips in contrast to the continuous strike of the crop and bites from her. A torrent of pain of pleasure. I felt her slither between my legs and the bed. She then took my shecock balls deep into her warm, tender mouth and bobbed her head up and down four or five times before stopping with a strike of crop across my left ass cheek.

My shecock throbbed and bounced after she pulled her mouth off and I felt her take her stunning breasts and encapsulate my shecock between them and stroke my shecock with her bosom several times before landing across my ass with four hard strikes of the crop. She slithered up and onto the bed. Her legs wrapped around my torso.

"Eat me."

She pulled me down on top of her with her legs and even blindfolded I could easily find her sweet tender folds. She was agush with juices. I began by kissing her inner thighs from knee to pussy, using light swirls of my tongue. I licked on her left labia from bottom to top, and then licked her right labia from bottom to top, sucking her juices as I went. Then ever so gently, I wrapped my tongue around her already swollen clit, excited by the pleasure and pain she had brought forth. Now was my honored turn to bring her pleasure. Sucking her clit with my tongue, I used my lips to massage the tender folds surrounding it, then with a slow release of my tongue I began to slowly flick the tip of my tongue on her clit as I applied suction with my mouth.

She moaned and rocked with pleasure. Knowing her proclivities, I slipped two fingers inside her with my left hand and began pressing against her G-spot as my tongue quickened its pace. Grabbing my hair, she began to fuck my mouth and hand as I moistened my right index finger with her juices, before sliding it into her awaiting starfish. Pressing with my fingers as I maintained the tempo of my tongue quickly sent her over the top as she raised her hips from the bed, squeezed my head with her thighs, and cried as she came on my face.

I immediately pulled my fingers from her and released her clit from my lips and tongue, allowing her to recover.

"Take off the blindfold." The crop came down across my back yet again.

"Yes, my Mistress." I removed the blindfold, casting my eyes upon her. She was simply dressed in a red silk robe that came down just below her hips and golden strappy spike heels with a small platform.

"Lie down on the floor." The crop once again landed on my back

"Yes, my Mistress."

I got up and moved to the floor, adjusting my rock hard shecock as I lay down. Sitting on the bed, she began to press her shoes into the soles of my feet, working her way up my legs, with the instep of the shoe providing pleasure and the spike producing pain. Then, steadying herself on the post of the footboard, she placed one foot on each of my ass cheeks and stood, applying full pressure. It was such excruciatingly wonderful. She then proceeded up my back, dragging the riding crop along my arms and neck and leg as a reminder not to cry out.

Stepping off me, she said, "Walk to the foot of the bed."

"Yes, my Mistress."

She climbed up on the bed and snuggled into the many pillows on the bed. "Masturbate for me. But don't you dare cum."

"Yes, my Mistress." I took my aching shecock in my hand and began to slowly stroke it.

"Pinch your nipples."

"Yes, my Mistress."

"Faster."

"Yes, my Mistress."

"Slower."

Yes, my Mistress."

And so it went on, command after command, edging me for seemingly an hour as I felt the sunset behind me and the room darken. All the while, she masturbated as well, rubbing her breasts, stroking her tummy, pinching her nipples, never taking her eyes off me until she would close them to orgasm, only to open them back up again, stare into my eyes, and start over on her swollen clit.

Finally, "Stop," she commanded.

Relieved, I stopped. My balls aching, the shaft of my shecock covered in precum. She took the pillows off the bed and placed them on the sofa. After pulling the duvet and bedspread all the way down, she placed a towel from the bathroom on the bed.

"Get on all fours on the bed facing the dressing room door."

"Yes, my Mistress."

She walked into the dressing room and came out a couple of minutes later without the robe, but with a large, realistic black cock strap-on. It must have been 10" or 11" in length and 1 1/2" in diameter. She walked to the table by the door and picked up the lube. Then, crossing to the table by the window, she picked up the lone martini glass. All the while my eyes were glued to her. She climbed onto the bed behind me and reaching underneath me, she handed me the martini glass.

"Catch every drop, my pet."

"Yes, my Mistress."

I placed the head of my throbbing shecock into the martini glass and braced myself by taking a fistful of bedsheet in my hand. Kneeling behind me, she first pulled out the plug, and then lubed up the cock and my ass before pressing the head of her cock against my awaiting boipussy. Ever so slowly, she rocked her hips forward. I could see our reflection in the vanity mirror of the dressing room as she filled my boipussy with her cock. Going so slowly gave me time to adapt and it felt so divine to be so filled. Finally, I felt the balls of the cock against my ass: she was buried fully within me.

With hands on my hips, she slid back out to the tip, and then all the way back in, ever so slowly, pressing against my P-spot as she went. She quickened her pace and I fucked her back rocking my body, all the while collecting the precum pouring from my shecock into the martini glass. We were now fucking at a rapid pace and I could feel the sissygasm building within me. I pumped more furiously as she pounded my boipussy.

Cum poured from my shecock like a faucet before I fully orgasmed in rope after rope of cum. I had never cum that much in my life. I was crying out in pleasure as she was smacking my ass with her palm as I came. Spent, I buckled down toward the bed as far as I could go without spilling the martini glass.

"Drink it my darling little whore. Drink your cum."

"Yes, my Mistress." As I raised up off the bed I looked at the nearly full martini glass, raised it to my lips and drank it down. So creamy, so delicious, so wicked.

I placed the empty glass on the nightstand and awaited further instruction.

My Mistress pulled out of me, leaving me feeling empty and wanting. She replaced the plug, but it was unsatisfyingly small compared to the cock that had just fucked me, draining me. She walked into the dressing room and closed the door. She came out a few minutes later dressed in a matching red silk night gown with her arms full.

She secured my shecock in a chastity cage, and then tied my wrists together in front of me with a length of Dacron rope.

"You now have the honor of massaging my feet and painting my toenails."

So I went to work. There was massage oil, white nail polish, and pedicure toe separators. I worked the oil into her feet and calves, which was quite the challenge with my wrists bound. Massaging the arches, and each toe, I worked my way up each foot to the ankle, and worked her ankles before moving up her calves. Even more challenging was painting her toenails. I placed her toes in the separators and then cleaned them to make sure there was no oil on them before applying the polish.

"Pour us wine, my pet."

"St. Emilion or Margaux, my Mistress?"

"The Margaux from dinner."

"Yes, my Mistress."

I rinsed the wine glasses and dried them before filling the with the last of the Margaux. We enjoyed the wine in silence as her toes dried, as I not dare speak without commanded to do so. Finally she spoke.

"You have one strike against you and your punishment will be to sleep as you are: caged and bound for my pleasure."
"Yes, my Mistress."

After her toes dried, I took off the separators and put them away, along with the polish.

"May I speak, my Mistress?"

"Yes, you may."

"May I remove my shoes to sleep?"

"Yes, you may."

I curled up and tried to get comfortable as she spooned behind me, draping her arm around me and grabbing my caged shecock in her hand, feeling the key dangle against my back. It was a restless night's sleep, as I was awakened every time I got hard in the night and pressed against the rigid steel around my shecock. I would lie awake, enjoying the feeling of being bound, caged, and in her arms, until I would drift off to sleep again.

I awoke to the sensation of the cage slipping off my shecock and looked down to see her take me into her mouth to get me hard, which, admittedly, didn't take long. Without a word, she rolled me over on my back and spun the circular portion of the cage around 180 degrees so it could act as a cock ring, rose to her knees, and straddled me. With one hand on my chest, she used the other to guide me into her wet, eager pussy.

Sliding in easily, she began riding me ever so slowly, savoring every inch of my 8" shecock, grinding her clit into my pelvic bone as she went. Digging her nails into my chest, she quickened the pace.

"May I rock my hips and thrust into you, my Mistress?"

"YES, fuck me!"

I began to rock and thrust in a mad passion in rhythm to her riding, feeling my balls slapping against her, her head thrown back in ecstasy as she came for the first time. It was awkward for me not to be able use my arms and my bound hands were flailing between us. She grabbed my wrists and raised my hands above my head, demanding, "Fuck me harder, deeper!"

I began thrusting with all my might, pounding into her as she came a second time. Her breasts were in pressing against me as she rode me,pushing me closer to the edge.

"May I cum, my Mistress?"

"Come with me, wait for it..." Her words trailed off as she closed her eyes. "Now, slave, cum now!" she cried as I pumped her with a torrent of cum. Over and over ropes streamed from me as she quivered above me, her body trembling as she came. Upon feeling the last of my spasms, she pulled off me, and using my wrists for leverage, she straddled my head.

"Clean me and make me cum."

I licked the cum from her pussy and swallowed it down, then licked and sucked her to yet another orgasm.

Rolling off me, exhausted, she said, "Time to shower and dress - and you will dress in slutty attire for the ride home."

The boots, corset, and micro miniskirt made quite the splash at the breakfast buffet. After breakfast, we loaded our bags in the car for the drive home and said farewell to the weekend. Nearly - she had me stroke and edge myself for the entire drive before sending me off at home with a raging, dripping erection and a passionate kiss goodbye.