Chapter 19

With Natasha back on tour and enjoying the last of the Summer in the West Country, Monika teased me throughout the week; she sent me a picture of her wearing her strap-on and asked if I was still free to visit her on Friday. I wanted our friendship to be more than just a D/S dynamic and I said I was, so long as I could take her to dinner.

The delightful teenager agreed and at six o’clock I changed into a T-shirt and shorts in my office, and walked to her student abode. She grinned when she opened the door, patting me on the bum as I climbed the stairs to her room.

“That laptop you gave me is really nice,” she told me as I put my backpack on the floor of her bedroom. “And I have something for you before we go out for a meal.” She passed me an Oxfam bag. “I saw it in the charity shop in Leather Lane when I went past. It’s your size.” I took out a red tartan kilt that looked to be less than fourteen inches in length, white socks, a white long-sleeved shirt and a black tie.

“I’m not Scottish.”

“John. Are you being ungrateful?” Monika snapped. “Do you want me to tell Natasha about your appalling behaviour?”

I shook my head and stripped to my briefs. The teenager interjected with “kilts don’t have underwear.”

“I look ... silly.”

“Good,” the young woman replied, and she grabbed her purse and phone as she nodded towards the door. We only walked half-a-mile to an independent Italian near the mainline train station. I guessed I would get lots of strange looks, but I just blended in to the everyday crowd of London. A man in a short kilt with a teenage student did not attract as much attention in the cosmopolitan city as I expected it would.

Monika excitedly discussed her first week at University. Her lectures had been interesting, her course colleagues were friendly, and London was exciting. She revealed her “new boi,” who was a vegan, polyamorous, non-binary submissive who loved punk rock music and was doing a computer science degree. “We’ve had five dates already,” she eagerly told me. “And they love my strap-on. Jamie went to private school and then they did a gap year. Their parents barely recognised them when they came back. Conservative councillors, you see, so they don’t appreciate their newfound sexuality, or the three tattoos or their new gender identity or their long red hair. It’s a bit like Faye’s.”

“Ahh, they/them pronoun?”

“Yes. Although they are still my ‘boi’ no matter how many skirts they wear! But they don’t identify with a ‘male’ or ‘female’ gender.”

After our meal, we met a hen party in the street opposite the restaurant. The drunken middle-aged women shrieked as I walked past and one lifted the hem of my kilt to check that I “was doing it properly” and exposed my backside to the street. My teenager dominant guffawed as I blushed and protested.

“John,” the blonde student cried. She turned to the drunken women. “I’m sorry. He doesn’t have any manners.” Monika pressed me against the exterior of a closed office block. “Hands on the wall,” she barked and gestured towards the hen party. “Please, try again. His hands will not move until I tell him to.”

I glanced at her newfound authority and then fretted as the women shrieked with glee as they lifted my kilt, squeezed my buttocks and fondled my balls. Monika watched as the drunken ladies exposed me, and then the dominant teenager spanked me with her bare palm. She encouraged the squawking entourage to do the same.

To parade and flaunt my helplessness. To expose me and exhibit me as nothing more than Monika’s plaything.

It was humiliating, and Monika knew that.

She demanded that I strip at the bottom of her stairs and I nervously had to run to her bedroom while shielding my genitals from anyone in her corridor. I could hear the sounds of laughter and music behind closed doors, as the students lived their carefree existence, but Monika had me alarmed and unnerved as I scrabbled to the safety of her room.

She took an eternity to unlock her bedroom, and giggled as I hurried into her space, and away from prying eyes. Before the door had closed, she rubbed my bare buttocks. “I love fucking this. You’re going to get my prick ready for you, aren’t you?” My cock throbbed as I felt the warm breath on the nape of my neck as she leaned into the back of me. Her hands caressed my flesh and her body pressed against mine as she spoke into my ear.

I went into the en-suite and entered her room, naked, and with a cleaned rectum. She smiled as she leaned against her wardrobe with the black strap-on attached to her leather harness. Her bare body glowed under the harsh fluorescent strip light and she clicked her finger to a pink bath towel, sprawled over her bed. “Face up,” she demanded.

My pulse raced as I laid on her student mattress, and she took the half-full lube bottle. She smeared the transparent gel over her black toy and then, as I held the backs of my thighs to open my butt for her to access, she squirted a generous amount over my whorl.

I adored the slow pressure against my opening. The blunt head of her rubber toy as my ring stretched to accommodate the intruder and fill me. She smiled as she held onto my chest. The teenage dominant looked so sexy as her body leaned over me with her soft golden hair falling over her face.

Monika beamed as she plundered me. She grinned, laughed, grunted and sighed as her cock fucked me; slowly at first and then with increasing alacrity. I felt her lean across me and reach into her bedside drawer; her breasts pressed against my face, as she retrieved another toy and slipped it underneath her.

A vibrator - directly on my leaking prick - as she ravaged me. “You like?” She asked as her rotating hips rubbed her cock against my prostate and her battery-powered toy sizzled against the head of my dick. I groaned and squealed, nodding as she fucked me. I had sensory overload in my loins. “Jamie loves my vibe against their nub when I’m fucking him.”

My humiliation doubled as she said those words; I felt like I was the woman, the submissive partner, as she drove her prick harder and faster into me. I raced towards my climax. My body shivered and itched as the pressure rose inside me. Monika had left me powerless as a wave of pleasure crashed over me and my dick pulsed. Several streaks of cum landed over my chest.

Fucked and forced out of me.

I cleaned up in the en-suite and returned to the bedroom; she pressed me against the cool plaster and rubbed my buttocks. “Face the wall,” she demanded. Her left hand held me facing away from her, while her right squeezed and caressed my buttocks. I didn’t expect the first smack as the flat of her palm smashed against my defenceless flesh.

Monika never stopped; she pelted my bum with her bare hand, giggling as she spoke. “Natasha always says you have a spankable arse!” I gulped as her strong pelts landed. I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against the beige plaster. The teenager gave me thirty hits and with my reddened backside, she passed me the kilt once more. “Let’s go to the pub.”

The student bar was crowded, and we struggled for space. I bought my dominant a drink, and she noticed a friend at the pool table. The two women had just finished a game, and Monika challenged me to one.

I knew her nefarious intentions. Every time I leant over the blue baize, her cue lifted the back of my short kilt. Her friends giggled at my reddened rump as she humiliated me, but I was a much better player than she was and I not only won the match, but Monika exposed me and degraded me while doing so.

We returned to her flat at eleven o’clock and I picked up my bag to leave. “Where do you think you’re going?” She asked.

“I thought you had a date in the morning.”

“I do. At lunch. And you’re coming too. Get your arse in bed as we have a film to watch.” She giggled as I put my bag down, stripped naked, and slipped into the single bed alongside the nubile beauty.

Once again, Monika exercised in the morning and while she jogged around the city, I went to the small supermarket to buy foods and cooked us a fry-up in her kitchen. After breakfast, I feasted on her sweaty, musky crotch, savouring the powerful aroma and pungent flavour of her overexertion. The essence of female exercise was delicious, and she teased me as I brought her to a gasping, writhing orgasm.

We showered and met Monika’s date at a coffee shop in the city; “the boi” lived in an accommodation block half-a-mile from my teenage friend’s residence. Jamie was lanky. The non-binary student wore clunky black leather boots with kneehigh black socks and fishnet tights underneath tight short black shorts and a dark hoodie with a unicorn on the front. They painted their nails in a deep red that matched their long hair and collar.

Her date didn’t look like they were trying to be feminine, but they were certainly not masculine. Monika hugged her date as they got up from their seat and I ordered everyone coffees. Jamie was shy; they kept looking at me and then my friend, and the non-binary student blushed easily. It was only when I talked about computing and then Bitches Against that they opened up and relaxed.

“He loves the strap-on you got me,” Monika revealed as we ate lunch. “Jamie comes when I used it on them too!” The young student blushed as she spoke openly about their sexuality and when they sunk in their seat, my lover added. “You know all about John’s because I told you what Natasha, and I have done to him. And Boh.”

“But it’s...”

“Do you want to come with us?” She asked me aggressively. She turned in her seat to me. “When you’ve finished your crisps, we better go back to my room as I am going to fuck a sub or two and this one won’t admit to his kinks.”

“OK,” Jamie muttered, blushing. “I enjoy being a submissive and getting taken. I love giving head and I fuck boys and girls and non-binaries.”

Monika beamed. “Good. Let’s play!” She stood up as her date and I looked at each other. “I adore threesomes!” She giggled and patted her date on the head. I felt nervous walking back to Monika’s small bedroom with the two students. The dominant lover held my hand for some of the journey, soothing my reticence, but I felt too old to get sexual enjoyment from the two teenagers. It felt wrong.

When we reached her room, she put me in the bathroom and told me to strip and come out when I was ready. It was her way of giving me time to process the events of lunch. Natasha had been clear that she wanted me to play with other genders, and her teenage partner seemed just as anxious as me.