Gender Reassignment Surgery Is A Way Of Changing Bad Boys Into Good Girls.

Tie his hands above his head and use him like he's a dildo you just stuck to the wall

Countdown To a New Year

Happy New Years everybody!

Well the Christmas holiday is over and my husband is back at work. It was a quiet holiday season this year due to covid and my daughter being unable to come home for the holidays because of her work schedule.

Last year, when my daughter did come home, we decided to turn the kink down during the holidays. This year, being just the two of us and anticipating boredom, I cranked it up instead to create our own fun.

My husband had an entire week off, so the moment he came home from work for the holidays, I took charge completely. I greeted him at the door, gave him a passionate kiss, and held out our all rubber ballgag in front of him. When I do this he knows to swallow and then open his mouth wide, so that I can force the ball past his teeth, then I buckle the straps.

I forcefully stripped his clothes off, and then sat down on a chair I had placed just inside the door. He knew what he had to do. He bent over my lap and received his weekly maintenance spanking. The holidays were off to a good start and I sent him to have a shower still gagged, while I finished making supper. That meal he ate from his dog dish on the floor without using his hands, something I haven’t made him do in almost a month.

Later in the evening, I chained him standing spread eagle. I put some of my favorite music on, poured myself a glass of wine, and taking my time, shaved his entire body free of hair. Since I planned to keep him confined to home for the entire holiday, I decided to severely limit his masculinity, as nobody else would be seeing him anyway.

Earlier in the day, I had painted my fingernails and toenails in a candy cane motif, red and white diagonal stripes, and now I painted his fingernails and toenails to match mine. Other than going outside for snow removal, I kept him in his softest and prettiest pyjamas all week.

Christmas morning we video called our daughter and talked for a while. Since he was wearing his sexy red satin pyjamas, I let him cover then up with his robe for the call, but he had to keep his pretty painted fingernails out of sight.

We shared a lovely meal at suppertime and later in the evening we opened presents. Along with more vanilla gifts, he bought me an arm binder I’ve wanted for a while now to lock his arms folded together behind his back. I wanted it to keep him helpless while he suckles my breasts.

I bought him a set of fistmitts and matching booties that lock on with Segufix locks, and he slept every night locked in them. The booties have spikes in the base to ensure he can’t stand up in them. I had made something similar myself but these are much nicer than the homemade ones and I was happy to be able to throw them away.

I also bought him a pair of steel locking bracelets, the kind that need a hex key to remove. Instead of locking one on each wrist, I put them both on his right wrist, so as they rattle against each other, he has a new audible reminder that he is my property. At night I wrapped a ribbon around both to silence them for sleeping. They remained locked onto his wrist until he went back to work.

A couple of hours before bed, I put the armbinder on him and made him suckle me. It worked very well for keeping him helpless in my arms, but I really have to watch that I don’t suffocate him with my large breasts, as with no arms he can’t push himself away from me. It’s a nice new and intimate way for us to do breath play though.

On Boxing Day, I decided to do another Intoxicated Interrogation. It has been many months since we did it last time, so I wanted to get into his head. In the evening I fed him alcoholic drinks with his baby bottles until he was quite drunk to loosen his tongue, and then I started a discussion about our kinky games.

This time when I questioned him, I discovered he knew just how much I really enjoy caning him, something that I thought I had kept secret from him by hooding him everytime. He slurred to me that he was seriously thinking about breaking one of my zero tolerance rules, sacrificing himself just so I could enjoy the experience of caning him again. He said that he hates being caned, as it hurts like hell, but the fear and anticipation of it was very exciting to him. He also loved the idea of suffering for my pleasure, knowing how much I enjoyed it.

I truly wanted to cane him again, but I promised myself to never punish him without him earning it. Also, I didn’t want him to break one of our zero tolerance rules just to make it happen. When he breaks a zero tolerance rule, he is breaking a promise to me and that is the reason I cane him. We talked further and when I decided that I wouldn’t get any more useful information out of him, I locked him in his kennel to sleep for the night.

The Intoxicated Interrogation was a partial failure. Sure, I got some useful information from him that night, but I was too cautious and didn’t feed him enough alcohol. He remembered our conversation the next day, and we ended up discussing it again.

He promised me that he would be perfectly obedient for the rest of the year and asked me to promise to cane him if he failed me. If I agreed, all it would take is one small act of disobedience, and he would be caned for it.

Then we came up with the idea of conducting a ‘year in review’ on New Years Eve, with the final punishment during the 10 second coundown to the new year. We discussed it and once I was sure he really wanted this, I finally agreed and promised I would follow through. I suggested using the punishment strap instead as it is just as exciting to use as the cane but less harsh on him. It wouldn’t work as good though, as I would have to use the cane to be able to swing fast enough to keep up with the countdown.

On the day before New Years Eve, He spent the afternoon locked in his kennel going over his journal and summarizing it, and wrote out all of the times in the last year he was disobedient, with the resulting punishments. This he would read out to me on New Years Eve, as our year in review.

At noon on New Years Eve, he finally broke his promise of perfect obedience. By saying he loved me when he was commanded to remain silent, he sealed his fate.

We carried the spanking bench out to the livingroom, to get it ready for the evenings festivities, and its presence helped us anticipate what was to come. I could sense how nervous he was, really feeling dread over the last few hours, and it made him so meek and submissive. Seeing him like this enhanced my own building excitement.

In the evening, after pouring me a glass of wine, he started our year in review by reading me the summary, and at ten to midnight, he stripped naked. He clipped his ankles to the front of the bench, bent over, reaching forward, and clipped his wrist cuffs to the ring holding him firmly in place.

I walked around to the head end of the spanking bench, forced him to look up at me and passionately kissed him. This was the first time he would be caned without wearing the isolation hood. I blindfolded and gagged him, but he could hear everything. I stripped myself naked, as usual.

With a minute to spare before it started, I turned up the television to make sure the countdown would be loud and clear. “With this caning, I hereby forgive you for all past transgressions. I love you,” I proclaimed. I gave the cane a few swishes in the air, knowing he would hear it, adding to the tension.

It was time. The countdown started and I started swinging, keeping in time with the count. TEN, NINE, EIGHT. By the third stroke he was moaning loudly into the gag. SEVEN, SIX, FIVE. As he climbed the pain ladder during his descent into hell, his wailing got much louder. FOUR, THREE, TWO. My other hand was working furiously between my legs and I came hard, a little too soon.

In the end, I’m not sure who screamed louder. The last stroke, which I planned to put a little extra effort into, ended up barely tapping him as I completely lost focus. When I regained control of myself, I unclipped him from the spanking bench. I removed his blindfold and gag, led him to the sofa, and put him to my breast to suckle for some loving aftercare.

The next day, as he laid at my feet and licked my patent leather ballet flats, he promised perfect obedience for the next year, proclaiming that I deserved nothing less. I promised to enforce it. I’ll get the timing of my orgasm right next year.

As Pete and Cecilia walked in, she was immediately greeted with, “Cece! Always lovely to see you,” by the girl at the front desk. Obviously, they knew each other, and chatted away for a few minutes as Pete stood by, slightly awkwardly. Mostly due to the fact he was trying not to stare at either ladies’ considerable chest.

She escorted the two to a table.

Cece smiled, knowing that she gave him a real eyeful as she sat down. Her “dress” could easily be mistaken as some type of nightie, the type that women would only break out if they were really wanting to treat their man.

“See something you like…” the waitress asked, knowingly as she handed them their menus. She knew what Cece was having, she’d been there many times before. And of course, she also know what Pete would be getting; a certain little something added to his drink.

The restaurant, Bonnie's, catered to a certain clientele. Ladies who had a sadistic streak in them. Some enjoyed it as a first date, to show who'd be wearing the pants in the relationships, and who'd wet them. Others, preferred it as a last date situation, to humiliate a guy who had wronged them before dumping them.

And then there were those who were just there to watch. There were several "ladies only" booths positioned to give a good view of the tables where couples would be sat, so they could enjoy the show.

As Peter's drink was sat down in front of him, Cece winked at the waitress, who nodded back in recognition.

He didn’t say anything while they ate, but quickly became aware of a need to pee. Which made no sense as he'd hardly had anything to drink.

The waitress could tell he was getting squirmy as she came over to show the dessert menu. She knew Cece preferred an audience, and she was all for pleasing the customer.

“Care for a dessert, another beer perhaps...?” she asked, coyly.

Cece giggle a little. "he's barely touched the first one. I hope you're not just trying to be a cheap date. I'm all for women's empowerment but, I do like it when a guy splashes out for me..."

The waitress sniggered at that, before offering an alternative. "Maybe just can't handle his drink? I at least appreciate a man who tries to control himself. Some of our patrons end up causing themselves a lot of embarrassment."

"Mmm hmm..." Cece agreed, "there was that poor young man last time I was here. Must have had a few too many and... well... pssssss... he he he he...." She giggled childishly as she mimed a man wetting his pants.

The waitress nodded in agreement. Of course, they both neglected to mention that he had been there with Cece.

"We had a couple more recently," she added, "we had to close off the men's room after some vandalism. I'm pretty sure it was one of those crazy W.A.R.M. activists."

Cece laughed quite openly at Pete’s shocked reaction. "Oh! I take it you've heard of them? Well... I'm not a member myself but, I do think they're doing some great work!"

The waitress shrugged, "I don't know about that, but I'll grant you it was an interesting shift that night!"

He was starting to cotton on to the fact something was off about this place. As he looked around panicked, he noticed how many women were all staring intently in his direction. As he felt their gaze, his need to pee ramped up exponentially.

This was now an emergency. He had to...

Too late.

He gasped in shock as he felt his last ounce of self control slip away. It didn't even start with a trickle, his pee was steaming full force into his pants.

Cece was cracking up, as was the waitress. Even from the other side of the table, it was obvious she knew what was happening.

A chorus of giggles and the glare of a phone's camera light meant it was obvious to everyone else.

Cece tried to regain her composure. “Ahem… Um… I think we’ll skip dessert actually.” She grinned wickedly, as Pete cringed at the thought of having to stand up shortly. “I think Petey here would like to go home and change...”

“Of course… I'll just get you the bill…” she paused and looked down at Pete, "and a mop."

"Oh, thank you," Cece gushed before turning to Pete, "you know, the service is the reason I keep coming back to Bonnie's."

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Lola Noir - Latex dick addict

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