by Tom Tame
in deeper.
"He's right, Alyssa."
No!
"No man would let someone do this to him," Mister Zebra said.
No. They were tag-teaming him and it wasn't fair.
Miss Sophia searched Alyssa's pretty eyes. "You were only pretending, weren't you? Trying so hard to be a
man for me, but this is who you were secretly. We didn't change you, Alyssa. We only brought out who you really
were all along."
No.
"No man could ever turn into this," Mister Zebra agreed. "No man would allow his wife to do this to him."
Alyssa leaned forward. Her expression said, "Don't do this to me. Please." She--he couldn't stand it any
longer. He needed to be close to her, to melt his soft female body against hers, to fill his nose with her scent, to feel
her soft body against his, to press his soft breasts against her soft breasts, to taste her lipstick, her tongue, to melt his
hot mouth into hers.
Miss Sophia retreated a step. She raised a finger and he felt the cold sting of rejection. "No. I'm sorry,
Alyssa, but there's one rule for tonight. I'm so sorry--"
"Sophia," Mister Zebra warned again.
She ignored him. "I'm sorry, but . . . you can't touch me. You're not allowed."
Alyssa snapped her eyes to Miss Sophia's. "Miss--Miss Sophie--please--I--"
Sophie bit her lower lip. Nervousness and fear filled her eyes. It was clear she was about to do something
she didn't want to do. "Miss--" She closed her eyes, made up her mind, and opened them once again. "Miss Lydia
says you can't touch me. Miss Lydia says you find it impossible to even try to touch me. Miss Lydia says you trust
me to do this to you."
The emotion rushed up inside him like floodwaters overtaking a dam. He felt the twisting of his face, then
all at once everything inside him burst. All the months of denial, torment, confusing ecstasy, it had all been for her
and now she was pushing him away. He sobbed miserably into his own hands. He'd lost her. He'd lost her for good.
Everything he'd done, everything he'd given up had been for nothing. It was his only chance to keep her and it hadn't
worked.
Miss Sophia took a sharp step back in shock. She blinked her eyes, glanced back at Mister Zebra and
returned her attention to her wailing husband. Alyssa was surprised and more than a little hurt to see that his wife
actually had a small smile on her face. He was even more surprised by her comment. "I can't believe how soft you
are now. So much more so than a girl."
Tears trickled. "I'm . . . I'm a girl. I'm a girl, Miss Sophia. I'm a girl just like you wanted."
Miss Sophia smiled as if he were the most pitiful thing she'd ever seen. She lightly brushed his hair out of
his eyes again. "See? That's the problem. It's not what I want. You have to want it. You have to truly feel it. You
have to know it, feel it, believe it without question."
He dropped to his knees, wiped the wet trickles away and peered up at her as submissively as he could
manage. "I do. I do, Miss Sophia. I do."
Her pleased smile told him it was working. "You almost do. Trust me, Alyssa. Miss Lydia has done this a
hundred times. It's worked on a hundred other boys, and it's working very well on you. Trust me. By the end of the
night, you really will believe it. Will you trust me? Please, Alyssa?"
He nodded, sniffled, tried to smile for her.
Miss Sophia wiped the tears pooling at her eyes before they could escape. She stepped to the side and
addressed Mister Zebra. "She's ready."
Mister Zebra grinned and shook his head. "No, she's not. They never are."
Mister Zebra and Miss Sophie stood looking at the kneeling little maid for a while, before he finally broke
the silence. "Come here, Sophia."
After a moment's hesitation, she left her husband and presented herself to Mister Zebra. Her cheeks were
flushed. Alyssa watched, unable to do anything else, as his wife gazed up submissively into Mister Zebra's eyes.
Miss Sophia's voice suddenly became soft. "I'm not sure I can do this in the red uniform. It sort of puts me in a
different mental state."
"Then we'll have to get you out of it, won't we?"
She giggled. "Then my fat belly will flop out."
Alyssa watched as Mister Zebra slung one arm around Sophia's small waist, drawing her close, cupping the
back of her head with his hand. They grew quiet then. The intimacy of their touch, of their soft whispers was like a
fist clutching at Alyssa's heart. They were together; she knew that now. Perhaps they had been since day one.
Perhaps before that. Perhaps Alyssa had been tricked into coming here to get her out of the way. Perhaps Miss
Sophia didn't want a husband anymore.
Alyssa listened to the soft smack and wet click of their lips, his wife's lips being used with tenderness by
another man, his wife breathing heavily in response. Her face would be flushed. Her eyes would be glossy. She
would have a dreamy smile. Her soft body would flow against his hard body begging to be cuddled.
"Are you going to be naughty then?" Mister Zebra whispered.
"No," Sophia said, "not unless you want me to be."
He patted her tummy. "You don't have a fat belly. Are you fishing for compliments?"
"No," she whispered.
"Liar."
"Am not."
"So you are being naughty."
Silence. Yes, they were gazing into each other's eyes. Yes, they were having a moment. Alyssa felt
something inside herself quietly dying.
"Yes." Sophie smiled and blushed deep and red.
"I think I'd like something to drink," Mister Zebra said.
"Shall I?"
"If you like."
Miss Sophia turned and snapped her fingers rapidly. "Alyssa, drinks! Red wine."
So that was it. He was to be their maid and nothing more, while they cuddled and kissed and played with
one another. He was trapped in his tight corset, his little limp cock, trapped and tucked away, and he was supposed
to scurry about fetching their desires, obeying their whims like he did with all the other guests.
He got to his feet and went to the bar, utterly desolate, the height of his blue heels making the distance
twice as far with twice the number of steps to get there.
"No," Mister Zebra corrected, "champagne, and bring the strawberries."
"I'm not terribly fond of champagne," Sophie told him.
Alyssa grinned privately to herself.
A gasp drew Alyssa's attention. Sophie stood awkwardly, arched backwards, hands pressing lightly against
Mister Zebra's chest. He had her by the hair, head jerked backwards, and he was staring sternly and deeply into her
eyes. Her breaths were coming and going in a rush, obvious by the rise and fall of her breasts.
He whispered to her so softly, Alyssa couldn't hear what he said. Sophia nodded slowly in response,
however, whispering "Yes . . . yes . . . yes" again and again.
Their eyes were locked together for the longest time, and when he finally released her, she swallowed,
straightened her skirt and blinked repeatedly, finally gathering up enough breath to address her husband. "Alyssa . . .
ch-champagne, please, and the strawberries."
Disappointed by his wife's surrender, Alyssa collected the glasses and began to pour the champagne.
"It's--it's difficult for me to switch roles like that," Sophia complained.
"Also exciting for you." At statement, not a question, as if he had no doubts at all.
"I--I suppose, yes."
"That
's why I'm here."
"I thought--I thought you were here to help me with Alyssa."
"I'm here for both of you."
Softly, Sophia said, "Oh."
"Don't look so sad. You've done really well. Miss Lydia is really impressed with you, both of you,
actually."
Sophie blushed and bowed her head. "I'm very glad to hear that."
"You've worked your little tail off." He chuckled and patted her on the bottom. "Literally. There's no guest
who isn't vying for time with you. You're a hit. Both of you are. I'm just here to help you two over the final little
hump."
Alyssa brought them two flutes of champagne on a little silver trail. She'd placed a little bowl of gleaming
red strawberries placed neatly between the flutes. Mister Zebra took his glass and laid down on the bed, not even
bothering to remove his shoes. That was the type of thing that usually bothered Sophie, a pet peeve. If it bothered
her now, she gave no sign.
Miss Sophia gazed at her husband, standing primly before her, corseted, stockinged, painted and polished.
She still had to suppress a gasp of surprise. Miss Lydia had performed some kind of magic spell on him. She
couldn't believe this was the same man who stood in the corner at parties, who blanched pale with dread at the
mention of role playing, who got all huffy when she mentioned introducing other partners into their bedroom.
"I've always said," Mister Zebra said with a chuckle, "the only thing that fascinates a girl more than her own
beauty is the pretty face of another girl."
Alyssa's face deepened its shade of red.
Far from giggling at Mister Zebra's joke, Sophia sounded hypnotized. She didn't break her gaze from
Alyssa's face for a moment. She stared at him in wonder. "You're embarrassing her."
Mister Zebra corrected her again. "I'm turning her on."
Miss Sophia stepped closer to her husband. He refused to raise his eyes, but she could see the arousal
pulsing through his body: his incessant swallowing, his flushed face, how he kept wetting his lips unconsciously, the
tiny little way he squirmed, no doubt pressing his thighs together, no doubt unaware of how he was arching his back
and pushing his chest out. She could even see the evidence of his hard little nipples. His breasts were so heavy and
full now. It made her nearly swoon from it all; it was almost too much for her to stand.
"Is that true, Alyssa? Is it turning you on to be talked about like this? In front of me?"
Alyssa finished the thought in her head. . . . talked down to by a man, a very alpha man, in front of his own
wife, helpless in his maid's uniform, rendered useless--
"Answer me, baby," Miss Sophia quietly commanded.
He raised his eyes to meet hers and managed to squeak out the word "no", but the look in his eyes--pleading
beneath his long false eyelashes--was a look of great intensity, euphoria, agonizing need . . . and submission.
"Oh my," she whispered and smiled.
"Well go on then," Mister Zebra said. "Show me a little of what you've learned."
She turned to him with a giggle. "Should I?"
He grinned. "Oh . . . I insist."
Miss Sophia's sweet smiled turned wicked. Alyssa swallowed nervously. Sophia sauntered lazily around
him, running her finger up her husband's arm, over his shoulder, tickling his neck, and drawing a little circle on his
back. She crept up from behind him and nibbled on his ear, whispering, "Do you see what being all repressed did to
you? It left you ripe for this. Look what I did to you, baby, took away the only thing you cared about more than me .
. . being a man, not that you ever really were."
She reached down and gave Alyssa's bottom a little squeeze and was surprised by his sharp reaction, the
quiet little gasp of pain, the sharp rise of his shoulders.
"What's this?" She lifted the back of his skirt, got a gander at his punished ass, cleaved in two by the g-
string gaffe, and laughed. "Someone was naughty."
"Oh?" Mister Zebra.
"Oh, yes," Miss Sophia said and turned Alyssa around to show him.
Alyssa made sure not to spill the strawberries from the little silver tray, but he was finding it more than a
little distressing that his wife would do this to him. It was as if she wanted to humiliate him. She picked up his skirt
and petticoats and showed Mister Zebra his red bottom. Alyssa felt the cool air on his ass and the heat in his face. He
shouldn't like being on display this way, but the pressure of his pulsing cock trapped between his legs and the erotic
anguish he felt in his stomach and chest said different.
She played with his ass, poking it and enjoying the white impression her finger left, watching it fade as the
blood enveloped it once again. She gave him a pinch and he whimpered. "That's what you get for being naughty,
you little slut."
"Maybe we should add our own impression," Mister Zebra suggested.
Alyssa's body revealed her arousal and her anxiety. The way she tensed; the little gasp she let out told
everyone what she thought of the idea. Even in her tight maid's uniform, she was realizing how utterly naked she
was to them. "Maybe we should," Miss Sophia agreed. "Which do you think she would like better, being paddled by
me or you?"
Mister Zebra grinned. Alyssa groaned quietly. "Why don't you ask her?"
"I think I will. Alyssa, darling. . . ."
He didn't want to turn. He wouldn't, but his wife's voice called to him and he found he couldn't refuse it.
Shame-faced, he looked at her and Mister Zebra and tried not to cry. Miss Sophia didn't seem to understand his
predicament, his struggle. On the contrary, she seemed hell bent on making it worse. "Alyssa, sweetheart, you heard
the question. We've decided to paddle you for our own amusement. But, we've decided to give you the choice of
who does the spanking. So, which will it be? Me, your sweet, adorable loving wife . . . "
Alyssa's face flushed again. Every time they thought he couldn't get any redder, he proved them wrong.
". . . or Mister Zebra?"
Little stress lines appeared on Alyssa's face. Her grip tightened on the platter. Her breathing sped up so
much that she felt she might hyperventilate, causing her soft breasts to very nearly jiggle. Miss Sophia giggled. "I
think we have our answer."
"We have half of an answer."
She turned to him, still grinning. "Hm?"
"Well, we haven't asked why, have we? Why would she find it more humiliating being paddled like the
naughtly little slut of a maid that she is by me, rather than by you?"
Miss Sophia caught her husband's gaze and held it. "Oh," she whispered, "I know why. He thinks you've
fucked me already. Don't you?"
Alyssa's eyes went wide. They hadn't--they weren't--
"See?" Miss Sophia turned with a laugh to Mister Zebra. She turned back to her husband and whispered
intimately, "He hasn't fucked me, sweetheart. Not yet. But he's going to. That's why you're here. You're going to
wait on us hand and foot while this lovely caveman plows your adorable wife. You have no idea how wet that makes
me. And I can see by the look in your eyes that it's making you wet, too, isn't it?"
He wanted with all his heart to shake his head, but the truth was there was some kind of unquenchable
bonfire burning in his body. The idea of his beautiful wife being ruthlessly fucked by this man--the same man who
had nearly convinced him to do something against his nature--should not arouse him, but it did, and the very fact
that it did, told him how twisted around they had him.
The softness he remembered in Sophia's eyes was gone. The times when they filled with hurt and
disappointment, because he couldn't force himself to let go for one of her proposed sexual adventures haunted him.
She had the same look Miss Lydia had now, the same look Mister Zebra had. It was a look that said, I have you.
You're so under my control you can't help yourself, and now I'm just having fun with you.
He was a toy. They had been not so secretly training him to be nothing but a toy for weeks, perhaps months,
and the training had worked. Not only had he become everyone's little sex toy, but every time they reinforced the
notion in his head, he spiraled into one pleasurable heaven after another. Still, he felt some part of himself struggle
against it. Still, he hoped he would somehow be allowed to take Miss Sophia and escape back to their old lives, back
to the place where he was a man and she was his sweet, plump wife.
The paddling began as Miss Lydia's had, with him assuming a "position". He thought he might be on all
fours again on the bed, but Mister Zebra commanded him with terse whispers. Turn around. Bend forward. Lift your
skirt. Legs together. Knees bent. Face up. He felt Mister Zebra's forceful hands on his head, positioning his face up.
Miss Sophia stood before him, smiling. "Sophia, if she closes her eyes for a second, I want to know it."
Miss Sophia nodded and placed her hands on either side of her husband's soft face. She rubbed his cheeks
with her thumbs and gazed intimately into his eyes. If only he could kiss her, just once. Her lips shone like glass and
he yearned to disturb their perfection with his own glossy lips.
Mister Zebra's technique was not as expert as Miss Lydia's. He did not wait long to work up to the hard
spanks. The flat CRACK of his hand on Alyssa's already tender bottom sprang tears to her eyes in seconds. Miss
Lydia had teased him into it, rubbing him softly for a long while, giving his cock little strokes, confusing his sense
of pain and pleasure. Mister Zebra was merciless. His spanking hurt so much more, far beyond physical pain. There
was some pain deep inside that was awaking a deep terror of the man. He must be obeyed. He must never be given a
reason to discipline. He must never be disappointed. Somehow, these notions were born in Alyssa's mind and were