Date: Fri, 25 Oct 2013 13:05:22 -0700 (PDT) From: Victoria VanDersuk Subject: Mr. Harris 3 Mr. Harris 3 I didn't go online for a few days. The encounter I had with Mr. Harris at his place was just way too weird and perverse. I remember leaving his place, grabbing my male clothes there on his front porch, and running to the safety of my car. I wasn't thinking straight, I was really fucked up, after all I had serviced him orally while his damn dog fucked me up the ass! I was all prepared to offer up my hole to my online lover, but I will forever have the memory of my first fuck being on the end of a Rottweiler, a horny stud with a big, pointy cock! Not very romantic, is it? When I got home I quickly dressed in the car, putting on my panties and then my shorts and T shirt over my stockings, which were full of runs and dog hair. I got a weird look from the guy who lives down the hall as I searched for the keys to my apartment outside my door. I glanced over at him to see a wry smile on his face, it appeared he was just going out. "Hello neighbor, my name is Chet. Are you OK? You seem visibly shaken." "Oh thanks, I'm OK." I found the right key but then dropped my key ring and had to bend over to pick them up. I crouched down, in a very feminine way I now realized, and tried to get the right key for my lock, wanting to just get inside and compose myself. Did you ever notice the difference when a man bends over to pick up something, but a woman will lower herself into a crouch position rather than just expose her rump? "Say, is that pantyhose you're wearing? Pretty kinky!" I blushed. It wasn't pantyhose, it was something more feminine and girly...sheer stocking attached to a garter belt under my shorts. I didn't know how to answer him so I just let out a pathetic moan, and he walked closer, I could feel his eyes examining me. "What's your name, sweetie?" Oh God! ""Umm, my name is Donald." "Well Donald is not a very sexy name...I would think a pretty girl like you would be called Misty, or perhaps Sissy or something..." As I opened the door and rushed inside and slammed the door I could hear the man laughing loudly. I had seen him before, he was middle aged, not unattractive, but someone I never thought I would have such a conversation with. I felt as though my secrets were all being exposed, for the entire world to see. It made me feel so terribly vulnerable. After I got inside I went to the bathroom and washed myself inside and out, wanting to wash away the filth and humiliation. I was so sticky and wet, despite the fact that a good portion of dog secretions had leaked on the way home all over the gray velour interior of my Grand Am. I just tried to put it out of my mind, but every time I went to drive my car now I could see the stain where my ass pussy leaked and it made me feel so..what is the word? Conquered? Sluttish? I guess that was close enough.. Over the next day or so the soreness in my bottom hole eased a bit, and I stopped obsessing about what happened. Every time I thought of that big dog breeding me I just shuddered. Then again, I couldn't deny that I enjoyed, it, I didn't want to accept that, but it was true. The hard frantic urgent fucking I had received from that Rottweiler kept popping up in my head. My skin was all scraped up around my waist, from the dog's claws I guessed. When I looked in the mirror I wondered if people could look at me and know that I had been bred by a dog? Would people see me differently, would the look on my face show my shame and degradation? I began to wonder what it would be like to be fucked by a man...by Mr. Harris, as I had expected. He had a great big cock of course, I knew that ahead of time. But it was very different when faced with that black monster face to face, or rather, face to cock. It would hurt, no matter how much I prepared my hole. Despite what he pulled on me I realized that I still wanted him, wanted him to use me that way, like a girl, his girl. I imagined that he would fuck me more tenderly, as one human to another, my fucking would be more erotic and memorable. Mmm. So there he was, online last night. I went into yahoo chat and a message popped up from him, but not right away. It was as if he was making me wait, or expecting me to crawl to him. "How's my sissy today? Did you have fun at my place?" Fun? Fun was NOT the word I would use to describe my torment at this hands! "No, it hurt." ""No SIR it hurt, you mean. Well I thought you had fun, you sure sucked my cock like a demon! Max really enjoyed fucking you, and I could tell you enjoyed that too, the way you were pushing back trying to get more of his hot sticky dog meat inside your greedy pussy! And by the way that little sissy stick of yours was hard and dripping the entire time! Max has been really calm and obedient since he bred you, you did a great job and I'm proud of you, faggot." I didn't know how to respond so I didn't. "Have you shaved your body like I told you, sissy?" "No Sir" "Well why not? We both know you're not a real man or anything. In fact, I think with the right clothes and makeup you could be really pretty." "Huh?" I felt my breathing go short as he explored the subject, bringing out my hidden desires. Yeah, he was really good at that. "I'd like to see you in a pretty dress. You've got nice legs, you know...and your body isn't very muscular like a man's body. It's girly, very girly!" "Umm thank you, Sir...I think" "I'm being serious, princess. So how much have you experimented with makeup? Do you have a wig?" The words he spoke made me terribly excited, though I didn't want him, or anyone else to know that. I felt my cock getting really hard in my panties at the thought. "Sir, I played around with makeup a few times, nothing serious though...and I don't have a wig." A few years ago I had a female room mate, and I would play with her stuff while she was out. I didn't really know what I was doing, I was usually stoned when I did it, but I did like practicing on my face and even wearing some of her clothes. But no one knew that, it was just playing. "Well get yourself a wig, sissy...a nice blonde one, or maybe a red one. Yeah, red would be really sexy on you! And get yourself some makeup..you know, eye shadow and lipstick and all that shit." "Oh I don't know..." "I'm serious! I'll bet you would be really pretty! And I like to fuck pretty girls you know..." "I thought you were going to fuck me the other night." "...Sir" I forgot. "Oh that was a test, and you passed with flying colors, sweetie! I think you have a lot of potential. You have to be pretty if you want to be my girl....you want to be my girl, don't you?" Sigh. Yes, I thought about it, I think every guy who dresses up in lingerie the way I do fantasizes about dressing all the way, makeup, wig, the whole ball of wax. I thought of being in a shoulder length red wig, my face all pretty, sitting on his lap and feeling his hand slide under my skirt, stroking my inner thigh, melting in his embrace and just letting him be the man, and me be the girl. "Well get to it, princess! I want you back over here tomorrow night! You know, if you're a pretty girl, I will treat you like one. You won't just be some fag slut, and treated like shit. " "Oh I don't know Sir." "Let me make this easy for you. I am the Man, you are the pussy. I have the dick, you have the holes. You'll do what I tell you." My breath quickened as I read what he typed. "Now be a good girl and go get that stuff to make me happy. You want me to be happy, don't you?" Yeah. I did. I may regret it but I wanted to make myself pretty, and make this Man happy. "Yes Sir" "Good girl! Now get busy and come over here tomorrow night at 8 p.m., all dressed up and girly! The pretttier you are, the harder my cock will be for you. And you know, all girls like a big hard cock to please." I got offline, kind of in a stupor about our conversation. I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes, thinking about kissing Mr, Harris, as a girl, and feeling how hard he was for me, and then submitting to him, being made love to like I was any other girlfriend of his. I reached down to rub my chest and pinch my nipples. Mmmm. The very next day I called in to work and went shopping. I got high first, I needed to chill out and find the courage to go get the things I needed. I had thought of doing this for a long time, it was something I thought of, and even masturbated to. But I never had the courage to move forward, Mr. Harris was making that easier by assuming control and telling me what to do. I knew I needed to not think, and just obey. Halloween was coming I used that as an excuse when I stopped by the wig shop the next town over. The lady was helpful, and when I told her I wanted to be a redhead she was very accommodating. She may not have believed it was a costume, but after all, a sale is a sale. She brought out a few wigs and despite my objections to trying them on she just forged ahead, making me sit at a vanity table with a mirror while she tried them on me one at a time, making comments, but the shoulder length strawberry blonde wavy wig I tried on was as close in my mind to what I wanted to look like as a woman, and she agreed that it was a good choice. She said it matched my skin tone and since my face was somewhat round the wig framed my face beautifully. I was very pleased, but acted like it was all just a lark. She put it in a pretty pink box and included a wig cap and a special brush to use, along with instructions for the care of the wig. After all, it was a Raquel Welch! My next stop was the makeup counter at the local drug store. The lady at the counter was in her thirties and heavily made up. Her perfume was a bit overwhelming. She thought it was cute that I needed her help, and she asked me if I wanted to look like a witch for Halloween, or a slut? When I responded no, that my girlfriend wanted me to look pretty and passable, she just snickered and said she'd be glad to bring out the girl inside me. We picked out a liquid makeup that was as close as possible to my skin color (to smooth my finish and minimize any imperfections) and then a case with some powder that she called blush for my cheeks. She asked me what color hair I would have, and when I told her about the strawberry red wig she told me how pretty I must look in that color, making me blush, and recommended several tubes of lipstick in between mauve and cinnamon, and eye shadow in shades of dusty browns, violets and pale pinks. She asked who would do my makeup, and I blushed and told her I would do it. She said she figured that, if a woman was dressing me she would be buying these things. She added a face powder to my basket with a big puffy applicator and insisted I buy nail polish to match my lipstick. She showed me a display on the cosmetics counter with a book called "Color Me Beautiful" and insisted I buy it, study it, and that with my feminine face and features she thought I would fool anyone into believing I was a real girl. "I'm surprised you haven't dressed up before...your skin is so clean and fair, and you don't even have an Adams Apple. Are you wearing a girdle right now?" When I replied I wasn't she just giggled and said she figured I was wearing one since I was so flat down below. "That's OK Sir, It will be a comfort to know that you won't have to worry about a penis pushing out the front of your skirt. I think it's sweet that you've accepted you're not a real man!" "Miss, it's just for Halloween, remember?" She could have rang up my purchases there...but she smirked and sent me to the front counter where a teenaged boy was ringing up purchases. I just kept my head down, said nothing, and handed him my debit card to quickly make the purchase and I was soon on my way. Since my I kept my head down I couldn't help but see him grope at the lump in his pants as he bagged my purchases. It looked like he was hung, and I wondered what it looked like, god what a faggot I've become! After I left the drug store I knew that the next place to go was the department store. I went into the store like a zombie, wandered into the woman's section and started looking at blouses and skirts, not sure what size I needed, trying to hold things up to me discreetly. "May I help you, Sir?" The loud authoritative voice of the department manager, named Lois as I could see by her name tag, looked over her glasses into my face. She could see the panic in my eyes, panic and desire. She was dressed smartly, professionally, and had the kind of blonde bleached updo that only a weekly beauty salon visit could maintain. "Well I'm trying to find an outfit for Halloween, you see my girlfriend is making me go out with her in drag." "I see...." She winked at me and said, "Don't be nervous Dear, we get a lot of your kind in here. Now let's see...that is a very pretty blouse, but perhaps something in a more delicate color would suit you better...ah, here's one in pink...and I believe it's your size too, a size 20. You'll have to shop in the big girl's racks I'm afraid." I shakily grabbed the pretty pale pink silk blouse she held out for me. It was a button down style, in a soft chiffon. She then grabbed my arm and escorted me to a rack of skirts. "Now let's see..how short would you like it? Do you have pretty legs?" "Well I don't know actually." She smiled, grabbed a gray skirt and escorted me with the blouse, to the changing rooms in the back of the department. She pushed me into a booth, thankfully the rest seemed to be empty, and she told me to try them on. Kind of a rush...exciting but terrifying. I realized just how submissive I was being, not putting up any fight at all. I sighed and stripped out of my boy clothes to my white panties. As I started to slip my arms into the blouse, which was incredibly feminine, she suddenly pushed the door open and looked me up and down. "I beg your pardon, Ma'am?" "Don't be shy sweetie, you've got nothing I am interested in that's for sure, I prefer MEN." What did she just say? Before I could figure out a response she just forged ahead. "Now let me have a look at you. Long legs, and what a surprise...they are shaved! My but those are sweet panties, if I didn't know better I would say that little bump in there was a penis or something! Ooh and no pubic patch either! My but you certainly are an obedient boyfriend to shave your personal area." "Oh dear! What happened to you? It looks as though you were mauled by an animal! Ooh, I'll be those marks hurt!" "Yes Miss, I was attacked actually...I was playing with a large dog and he got a little out of control." "Hmm, I''l bet...you know, that skirt is too long for you, I think you want to show off those pretty legs. You wait here and I will go get you something more appropriate." She took the gray skirt she had sent me in there with and was out in a flash. I was so shaken I just sat down on the bench in the changing booth and put my head in my hands. I hoped no one would see me. Why was I doing this? It was so humiliating! My thought returned to Mr. Harris and his cock. I should just say forget it, and barge out, try to retain some of my manhood. But then didn't I really want this? I knew I wanted to make Mr. Harris happy so he would fuck me, like a girl. Before I could finish rationalizing it she burst back into the room with a short black skirt. "Here sweetie, this will show off those pretty legs! Now get dressed and come back out front so I can help you with you other purchases. Surely you will want a proper girdle, brassiere and matching panties. Oh, and shoes of course! Do you prefer stockings or pantyhose?" I was so confused and tormented I just got back into my boy clothes, grabbed the pink blouse and the black skirt and walked out to the sales floor. She was there with one of those fabric tape yardsticks, and stepped behind me and pulled it across my chest. I saw a lady a few racks over drop her mouth in shock as she realized I was being fitted for a bra. "As I thought you are a size 40..a b cup would suffice I think. Come with me Sir!" I followed her through the department as she kept chattering. I couldn't keep up with her, the whole experience was really getting to me, I was zoning. By the time we got to the counter and she checked me out I had bought well over $500 worth of skirts, blouses, and lingerie, also a pair of black three inch pumps and four pairs of thigh high stockings that she said would be just "darling" with my outfit. When I got home I put all the bags on my bed and quickly stripped down. I got high again and it helped, I was really frazzled from the shopping experience. I couldn't believe that I let some guy talk me into doing this. They say even in hypnosis you can't be tricked to do something you don't really want to do...this was kind of like that I guessed. I looked in the mirror at my reflection and tenderly felt the red scrape marks around my waist. In a few spots I could see that I was forming a few scabs where blood was drawn when that dog fucked me. Max, giant Max, Mr, Harris big black Rottweiler. Hmm. I thought about how he mounted me, and how he so violently pulled me further and further back on his penetrating penis, and the savagery of the fucking he gave me. I felt back to my hole, and pushed two fingers inside me! I had experienced something few people do I guess, I closed my eyes and reached down to stroke my hard little cock. It was dripping. I shook it off, it was weird to be thinking about that, perverse. I went online, and he was there...there waiting for me. I just had to tell him about my shopping experience, I wanted to show him I had done what he asked. "Hi Master, back from shopping, got everything you asked for" A reply message popped up almost immediately. "Good girl. Tell me what you bought." I then went back and forth with him describing my purchases, and the way that I was treated by the sales people. He seemed to enjoy hearing about my discomfort, making demeaning comments on one hand while encouraging me with the other. When I told him that a neighbor down the hall from me caught me in stockings and hassled me he really seemed excited! "I'm not surprised, were you flirting with him?" "Heavens, no!" "After all he's a man, and he can sense when a male is lying and pretending. He probably will want to fuck you too. So you see how everyone sees what you don't?" "Pardon, Sir?" "You're not just a sissy, you're really a girl inside. Surely you must know that..." I was going to dismiss what he said, but I thought about it, thought about how I never had a real relationship with a girl, how I had always felt inferior to the guys around me...and how much it excited me to see a man's cock, especially one in action. "Sir, I'm not sure what to think..." "That's OK sissy, I'll do that for you. I know what you are and what you need..and so does Max....you know, he has been popping boners all day thinking about breeding his bitch. I've been cock locked myself most of the day thinking about what a good fuck you are, and how pretty you will look when you come see me, how proud you will make me...and I'll bet you've been thinking about submitting to me and taking my big cock. You want to be my girl, don't you?" I didn't know what to say. I was trying to keep cool, and not think too much about servicing his dog, let alone thinking I wasn't a man anymore. It was a lot to think about, maybe he was right..I felt like I should defend myself, depend my manhood, but I just couldn't. I had been totally used and I knew that I liked it. I glanced from my computer to look at the boxes of feminine finery opened and displayed on my bed, imagining how silky and feminine it would feel on my skin. I had to let it go, let him be the man, and listen and learn. I took a deep breath and typed. "Yes, I'm your girl...Sir"