(Story) Rule 1: No Wanking (F/m, femdom, lycra sports uniform, humiliation, cross-dressing)
Encounters
posted 3 days ago
The story takes a little while to get going... sorry :) Your feedback is welcome.
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I dropped off a wad of tissue in the toilet, flushed and washed my hands. Then I headed to the kitchen for a restorative cup of tea; after all, I had to replace the fluids I had so recently lost.
I was greeted by an unorthodox sight. Mike the American was helpfully holding a torch in nearly the right place for Jana to see around the back of the kitchen sink. Of Jana, all that was visible were her legs, which probably accounted for more than half of her in any case. Her killer thighs taxed the capacity of her immaculately clean brown boiler suit to stretch. I found my eyes drawn to where the fabric bunched up at her crotch, the rest of her hidden in the shade under the sink.
"You gotta go deeper, Jana," said Mike the American. "Deeper! This could be serious!"
I could tell that he was joking, but Jana couldn't always. She inched her ample rear further into the cabinet in any case. "The light, Michael," she reminded him.
"Uh, hi," I said. "Does anyone want tea?"
"Sure," said Mike, at the same time as Jana let out: "No, I do not want tea, I want to find out where the squeaky pipe is and then I want to fix it so that I can finally work!" Her anger was somewhat muffled by the sink.
"Do you mean leaky?" I asked as I stepped around them to fill the kettle.
Jana slid out far more gracefully than I could have imagined possible. She sat on the kitchen floor, her face flushed. "No! There is a squeaky pipe, I am sure of it. It was squeaking just two minutes ago! It is very annoying! Every day, it squeaks!" She gestured emphatically with a spanner.
Mike the American looked from Jana, to me, and burst out laughing. "Jana!" he said, calming down. "It's not the pipes." He grinned mischievously. "Wait here, I'm gonna try something." He left the kitchen and we heard him climb the stairs.
A few moments later the squeaking started. "That's it!" Jana hissed. She stormed out of the kitchen and started up the stairs. I followed. "Mike? Where are you?" she called.
The door to my room was open and Mike was sitting on my bed, bouncing up and down. "Michael!" I said, flushing red with embarrassment.
"Dude," he replied, getting up. "Now you know, you know? Fix the bed or switch hands or something."
Jana seemed to have caught up as she rounded on me, hands on the hips of her boiler suit. It looked like it must have been tailored to fit, given the mismatch between her powerful legs and her slight upper body. "You have just been wanking?" she asked me.
"Uh..." I replied. I was brought up not to talk about that kind of thing.
"And you are wanking every day? Sometimes twice? Always the same?"
"Sorry," I squeaked.
"I am very annoyed!" Jana reiterated. I was somewhat reassured. Jana used english with precision. She wasn't 'angry'. Not yet. "I am going to get my tools and fix your bed."
Mike the American let out another guffaw. I looked him daggers and he made himself scarce, chuckling all the way.
Watching Jana on all fours, her round bottom stretching the boiler suit tight, making little noises of effort as she tightened all the screws on my bedframe, gave me an uncomfortable semi in my pants. "Good," she said, brushing off her knees. "Now try it."
"Jana?" I said, taking a step back. "I'm not going to...I mean... Jana!"
"Just pretend," she said. "Now, please, I have work to do."
Under her steely gaze I sat down on my bed and bounced up and down, although with not as much enthusiasm as Mike had.
"No, do it properly," said Jana, "or I will just be back here with my screwdriver again. Ja, lie down, I think it's a better test that way."
My face a uniform shade of tomato, I put my head back on my pillow and bounced my hips up and down a bit. There was a squeaking noise.
"This is VERY annoying," Jana said. "Are you sure you are doing it correctly?"
"Um..." I wasn't sure what the correct way was to simulate masturbation fully clothed while being minutely observed by an angry redhead.
"No, keep going, I will see where it is coming from."
Jana loomed over me, circumnavigating the bed as I thrust my hips at the air in a way that was starting to actually get me quite horny. "Aha!" She dove to tackle a loose screw. The squeaking continued. "Oh." She frowned unhappily. "Scheisse. It is not the bed. It is the floor."
I stopped and sat up. "Ah," I said. "So..."
"Don't be stupid," she told me, although I had yet to suggest anything, "I cannot tear up the floor to look for squeaky boards. That is a big job!"
"Then..."
"Ja, good idea, I will make a schedule of when you can wank," she said. "Since you like to do it two times per day I can make a morning and an evening slot. Five minutes should be adequate, yes?"
"But..."
"OK, ten, I know you are not so efficient like me."
I finally found the wit to interject, even if I couldn't be totally coherent. "Jana! I can't... you know... if everyone knows! And now you, and Mike, and the rest of the house! Every time I roll over in bed! You'll think!"
"That's OK for me, if you don't want to use your slots, then I won't get disturbed," said Jana.
"That's..." I searched vainly for a counterargument to her domineering teutonic logic. "That's not fair! I can't concentrate if I haven't... you know? What about my work?"
That seemed to cut through with her. "Hmm." Her eyes narrowed. "Hmm. When you came to the kitchen, you had just been wanking, yes?"
I rolled my eyes. "Yes."
"I saw no traditional sock, or used towel under the bed. So, you use tissue from this box to clean up," she pointed out the kleenex I kept by the bed, "then you take it to the toilet and flush it away."
"And I wash my hands, yes, thank you, what's your point?"
"But you do not wash the door handle, or the taps of the sink, and so we are all touching your bodily fluids when we use the bathroom. This is unacceptable." Her mouth was a firm line.
I was beginning to lose patience. "What the..." I said. "What about the squeaking? Isn't this just about the squeaking?"
"Let me think." Jana flapped a hand at me irritably. "Yes, it is noisy, yes, it is unhygienic. But, masturbation helps you concentrate." Her face switched from frowning to joyous animation in a moment. "But that is OK! Everyone does it, me too!" Somehow I found her admission the most embarrassing thing that had happened all day. Then her frown was back, just as quickly. "Hmm."
"Oh my god, I am going to murder Mike," I groaned.
"The American?" Jana asked.
I just looked at her.
"I will think about this," she announced. "Please do no wanking in the meantime."
I had no witty rejoinder. I still couldn't help but stare at her perfect, powerful buttocks as she marched out of my room, as filled with purpose as I was trembling with delayed adrenaline.
At least she hadn't seen what was in the box, under the bed.
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A day later, after seven separate occasions when Mike the American had just looked at me and burst out laughing, I was in a foul and tempestuous mood. I seemed to be constantly horny. Images of round-bottomed redheads giving me a stern talking-to kept surfacing in my mind, but every time I took my cock in my hand it wilted at the thought of the squeaky floor. I tried to find another spot for self-abuse but evidently I'd gotten a bit too set in my ways.
As unlikely as it sounds, Jana came to my rescue, if by rescue, you mean... well, you'll see. "Ja, so while I was screwing your bed I saw something under there," she said. "And while you were out today I went to look more closely. In case the box was transmitting the squeaks."
I stood just at the threshold of her room, my face burning as I took in what I saw. Laid out on her bed, were the contents of my box. Minus two items, which she was wearing.
The shiny green fabric of the rowing suit followed her every curve and muscle. On top she wore a short windproof gilet in the same green, with the zip-neck left open. Her bare arms were lightly dusted with freckles. The cleft of her crotch was clearly visible even through the extra layer of fabric that was sewn in down there. I found myself salivating.
"Why do you have these?" she asked, pulling me into her room and closing the door behind her. I didn't resist. I didn't know if I was angry, ashamed... or excited. "Where did you get them?" She smirked at me. "You have almost enough for a whole crew."
"Um," I said. "Jana..."
My reluctance spoke volumes, apparently. "Oh. Oh, you steal them. From the changing room? The women's changing room?" Her voice had a dangerous edge.
"No!" I replied quickly. "From the college laundry. People always forget stuff." My explanation sounded lame even to me. But it was, at the very least, not a forbidden space, even if my actions were.
"Hmm. I have never seen you do your laundry here," she said, "even though we have a machine. This sounds true. So: why?"
I hung my head. "You look amazing," I said.
Her grin lit up like a bonfire for a moment, so hot I could feel it burn my cheeks, then faded. "I know. Why?" she repeated.
"Rowers... all together in their lycra... the whole team... so fit..." I mumbled.
"Why do you not go and be a rower then?" she asked.
My voice was barely a whisper. Jana came closer. I could feel the heat rising from her, the heady scent of her mixed with the distinctive smell of lycra. "Can't. Too exciting. Also... guys... uh... not really into them."
Her smirk was a mile wide, but her voice was controlled and precise. "I am starting a special rowing team," she said. "We are training for thirty minutes every day in our uniforms, here in my room."
I looked into her eyes, confused, but hopeful.
"Outside of this time, as team captain, I am making sure that nobody is wasting their energy on wanking. We must always be at maximum potential for training," she finished. Her smile was sly, her voice a deadly weapon. "Do you want to join my team?"
I nodded, unsure of my voice.
"Do you agree to follow all the rules of the team?"
"Uh... rules?"
"You must listen better," she remonstrated, mockingly. "Rule one: no wanking. That is all."
"But how, I mean, what...?"
She smiled at me again, and my heart did a somersault. "Of course, if after the introductory session you decide that this team is not for you, you may leave."
"OK," I said meekly. I was more than curious to know where this game would lead. It began exactly as I had hoped.
"Please put on your uniform now."
"Uh..." I was torn between my natural shyness and my desire to wear a lycra uniform in front of someone for the first time in my life. The though of being the focus of attention was at once exhilarating and terrifying. But Jana was already there.
"Oh of course, new members of the team are sometimes confused about the uniforms. This is called an all-in-one or unisuit, it is usually the first layer that we wear unless we are shy about our nipples. There are some team sports bras if you want. Personally I don't bother."
I couldn't help but look. Her tits were firm little self-supported handfuls, smushed tight by the lycra. Under the light gilet they could barely be detected.
"We don't wear anything underneath. You will remove all your clothing now, yes?"
"Uh... yes," I said. I started taking off my top layers.
"You can call me Captain."
"Yes, Captain," I said with a bit more confidence.
"It can be difficult to wear one of these the first time, so I will help you," she said. She picked up one of the all-in-ones from her bed and checked the size. "This should be good for you. Hurry please, the rest of your clothes."
It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, taking off the rest of my clothes and being naked and erect in front of her. Although I was a little taller than her, I still felt weak and small standing in her presence. In the green lycra she looked more powerful and dangerous than ever.
She slipped the matching lycra suit up my legs and over my arms in one long, slow movement. I whimpered delicately as my cock was flattened and trapped, my balls separated by the high crotch of the girls rowing suit.
"Very good," she said, making a show of inspecting me. I straightened my back. "Sometimes this is enough, but for cold mornings or windy days we can wear a light jacket or gilet. Here." She pulled a crinkly splash jacket over my head. I slipped my arms into it obediently. "There is a drawstring so that it does not get tangled." She pulled that tight and ran her hand around my waist. I shuddered.
"Jana..." I said.
"Captain," she corrected.
I stood mute, not sure what I had been going to say. Embarrassed but proud. Excited and scared.
Jana looked at me searchingly. I felt my will sapping away the longer she studied me. "The first exercise is designed to improve your posture." She perched on the edge of her desk, propping her thick legs out in front of her. "Come here."
"Yes, Captain," I croaked. I approached.
"Closer," she said. "Closer."
She stopped me when I was standing with one leg either side of one of her massive thighs. My lycra-clad cock barely touched her likewise contained quads.
"Good. For this exercise, you must cross your arms behind your back and not move them." She guided my elbows back and I crossed my arms obediently. "Now since I am the Captain and the stroke of the boat, I will set the rhythm. Your body will follow."
I twitched as Jana's hands slid around to my butt. Then she began to flex her thigh muscle. Gradually, she forced my legs apart even further, and I stretched the arches of my feet to hold myself up.
"No, no," she said. "It is not a tension exercise. You must relax your body."
"Yes, Captain," I replied in a strangled sort of voice.
Her hands pulled me into contact with her thigh. Flex after flex, more and more of my weight rode on her leg as I struggled to retain my balance. "Good," she said when my toes finally slipped off the floor. "That is very good."
"Thank you Captain," I said, breathlessly. My cock was straining hard in the lycra, but it wasn't rubbing directly on her thigh. Instead, the sweaty lycra where my crotch met her muscles stuck and dragged with every movement she made, pulling the rest of the all-in-one down and most importantly, across the head of my dick.
I started to whimper and moan before too long. Jana's cheeks were red with satisfaction. "You will be an excellent member of this team," she said. "You will be very well trained. Look how well you ride my thigh. Look what a good girl you are, in your uniform, obeying my orders."
Her dirty, filthy words reached into my soul and squeezed hard around the nugget of desire that I'd buried so deep. "How?" I moaned. "How?"
Jana raised one hand from my bum to run her thumb over my lip. "You also should delete your cookies," she said, and I felt any lingering doubts I may have had fall away. If she knew that much, I was hers to play with for as long as she wanted. However she wanted.
"Yes, Captain," I said meekly, between breaths. "Sorry, Captain."
"Now be a good girl and come, so I can fit you with the chastity device."
My cock and my head exploded at the same time. There would be no more wanking without her permission.
Ever.
