B’n’B with Laundry Thrown In

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My name is Fam and having spent a couple of years as an online camgirl I had enjoyed so much fun answering the demands of visitors to my private room. It really turned me on playing with the minds of submissive puppies who were seduced by my feet and legs dressed in stockings, pantyhose and sexy little ankle socks. Many guys longed to grovel at my nylon encased feet and elect the hose I should put on for them in a private session, a naughty pair of panties under pantyhose always brought in drooling private clients in their droves.

“Show panty,” “Feets please,” were the most common insistent demands of the anonymous guests and members alike many requesting to be enslaved.

I guess I am an attractive Dutch girl, at least guys seem to think so, from Eindhoven in the south of Holland, slim with long limbs and at one meter eighty centimeters I am rather tall but not unusually so for my country. As a youth I had taken part in many swimming competitions that had left me with broad hips and shoulders and a fit athletic appearance.

During my university days I really enjoyed the eternal attentions of guys hitting on me and I could say I developed an addiction for sex having many partners, sometimes several guys in the same period and even a threesome with a couple of guys on more than one occasion. Apart from the steamy sex I enjoyed, the other memory of the period was that I was forever shopping for underwear. My panties, socks and nylon hosiery were forever disappearing, rarely could a guy resist pocketing some crusty item, a stinky souvenir of having fucked me.

The night I turned twenty-six years of age I met Max. He was a big guy that easily eclipsed my own height and was fair skinned and fair haired as I was myself. I soon discovered he had abandoned a promising career as a ski instructor due to injury turning instead to becoming a web page designer. For me it was love at first sight.

Max was as happy being submissive in bed as he loved to be dominant and the sex was great not only, but he didn’t object to my cam girl work that I was still busy with at that time. He would often accompany me in my room, staying out of sight of the cameras and was great company during those quiet hours when I would have otherwise have been rather bored.

We moved into an apartment in central Amsterdam with two large bedrooms and a third room which we used as a study. Max was earning a decent wage, but my own income was rather fragile and unreliable and I decided to take a holiday, some free time to contemplate my future. Max would stay at home, having much work to keep him occupied and hold the fort until I returned a month later.

I spent a delightful autumnal break in Naples staying with a couple, Marta and Caesar, who had listed their apartment on an online bed and breakfast site. Caesar was an engineer that regularly traveled throughout Europe, spending some time away for each of the weeks I was staying there. I soon noticed that he was messing with my bits and bobs. Whenever he was in residence the contents of my panty drawer and that of my laundry basket were always unlike the way I had left them. I suppose an attractive blond haired woman in a southern port might expect no less, but by the end of the vacation I was short of two pairs of really expensive lacy white cotton panties and a pair of floral patterned white nylon knee-hi socks. Caesar was a good looking guy and I couldn’t help imagining him playing with them. My only compensation for my loss.

I was reminded of my university days and how my underwear was regularly poached leaving me to replace them from my meagre grant. I decided it was time to take advantage of a guy’s desire to have my stuff and I began to hatch a plan.

It was when I returned home after my holiday that I took the very first opportunity to tell Max about my potential career change. That he had missed a whole month having his big fat cock between my stinky nylon soles and having my fragrant pantied ass perched on his nose, I knew he would be affable to my desires and willing to listen to my ideas.

“I’ve missed you so Fem,” he said as he held my buttocks through my thin dress and pressed his big stiff cock into my midriff.

“Oh no you don’t,” I told him when he tried to raise the hem of my dress, longing to discover the little panties he knew I would be wearing under the luxury soft tan pantyhose I had purchased in Italy.

“I have something to tell you, so sit down,” I said, pushing him back into a comfortable armchair opposite the one that I then occupied. Dipping my glossy red four-inch heels and hanging them seductively from my toes before allowing them to drop, one after the other, with an evocative thud onto the wooden floor, guaranteed Max’s undivided attention.

“Sexy hose,” said Max feasting his eyes on my toes, which I flexed inside their nylon encasement reminding him of how he loved me to tickle-tease his balls with them and knowing that their aroma would more readily diffuse into the air and find its way into his hungry canlı bahis nostrils. I noticed that his cock was already stiff in his suit pants.

I wasted no time telling him what was on my mind.

“I’ve had enough of the camgirl scene, whilst I was away, I had a great idea for earning money from home. I need you to build me a website with e-commerce facility. Listen to this. Young and discreet Nordic blond mistress requests house guests for pantyhose and panty enslavement, cross-dressing and foot fetishism a specialty, that largely explains the theme. There are loads of puppy boys flying around on business who would appreciate submitting to my demands,” I explained to Max.

“Obviously, when I have a house guest you would have to stay out of the way, but you can be a peeping Tom and watch the action using a hidden cam and not only enjoy seeing your girlfriend dominating the guests, but could keep an eye out just in case some nutter gets out of hand,” I added.

“Not sure,” said Max doubtfully with his cock further enlarging in his pants.

“You say you don’t know, but your cock says you like the idea. Penis don’t bluff, it got no poker face,” I reminded him.

“I suppose we could give it a try,” he relented being unable to deny that he had three legs to stand on.

“Like, bed and breakfast with the laundry thrown in,” Max suggested.

“I like what you’re saying,” I credited Max.

“Furthermore, it would make sense to offer accommodation for one night only, with no return within a period of one month, they can always come back if they enjoy themselves, what do you think?” asked Max.

“Good idea love, I’ll probably need some time between guests to recover and to give you a bit of TLC too. How long would it take to have a site up and running?” I asked him.

“It’s easy but we would need some pictures to entice the clients, we are effectively waiting for those, furthermore you’ll have to supply the text,” Max informed me.

The day was bright and hazy and the light in the room was diffuse and perfect for making some images so I responded by saying,

“No time like the present.”

I left him sitting in his chair and went to our bedroom coming back with a large handful of appropriate underwear that we could model to illustrate just the kind of treatment my house guests might indulge.

“What do I get out of this, Fem?” said Max cynically.

“Come on lover, don’t try to pretend that your balls aren’t bursting, I know what happens when a guy’s nostrils start to fill with the pheromones of a woman that he has been missing, do you want to blow your load or don’t you?” I teased him.

“Tell me what to do,” he relented.

“To begin with I need you to help me make some photos of me in my sexiest lingerie and then we can see about some photos of nylon foot play and of course some naughty nylon smothering. We can always develop the site as time progresses, but that would do for now,” I answered.

“Kit off Max baby,” I suggested knowing that he wouldn’t resist.

Some hours later I pushed his pantied arse with my nylon foot and sent a ball-drained and exhausted Max off to the bathroom to shower.

Meanwhile, I began to transfer the explicit photos to my laptop and was busy editing them when Max returned to the room. For the homepage I chose an image of neutral colours, one which would not distract from the other information layered upon it. The image showed Max’s fat rigid eighteen centimetres standing vertically to attention with his swollen scrota surrounded by his fair pubic hair. The entire package visible behind the central seam of the translucent panty of a pair of natural toned seven denier pantyhose with an unlined gusset.

There were three other pantyhose images which I favoured and exploited the colour choices of hosiery that were usually requested from my experience on the cam site. Namely ivory white, natural shades and opaque black.

Gimpy pictures with an unidentifiable Max wearing pantyhose over his head and further adorned with several pairs of my skimpiest, most frothy delicate knickers would serve me well. They would convey my intention to humiliate and control my house guests.

The guest accommodation would be offered at a price appropriate for the quality of the residence. It would effectively be a bit of a lost-leader given the pleasures I intended to impart. I was certain that I could make far more than the accommodation fee because numerous times the guests in my private room on the cam site had been inconsolable when I had to inform them that my lingerie was not for sale. Something that was prohibited on the cam site, but in the privacy of my own home could be encouraged. A little stinky souvenir of an unforgettable stay with a delectable humiliatrix in Amsterdam.

During the following week whilst Max worked on the website I was busy readying our bedroom for fun and fetishistic frolic. I could develop this gimpy gymnasium of special equipment as time went by but for the moment I assembled bahis siteleri a medium sized bed in the middle of our room which would serve as a place for the guest to sleep. I moved my own bed to the other side of the room and arranged my office desk beneath the window. Several video cams were arranged discreetly in the room to capture the action from various aspects.

*

Sitting at home with his wife one Saturday afternoon in Edinburgh Mervin’s mouth was watering. His wife was sitting there in sexless slouch gear. She was really dull between the sheets and even hated his passion for her feet, permitting nothing but naked sex in the missionary position. She chastised him verbally when he even so much as looked at a picture of a model in a fashion magazine. Although he had never been unfaithful to her he had spent the few years since their marriage fantasising about all the dirty things that he longed a saucily dressed dominant Mistress to do to him.

He was planning a business trip to Amsterdam and had inadvertently opened a link to Fem’s site. He made a mental note of the address not daring to bookmark the page because his wife was forever checking his mobile and computer for signs of what she would regard as infidelity.

The following Sunday morning his wife went out shopping. She usually met up with her mates and spent the whole day out of doors. Mervin waited for the door to close behind her and then immediately opened the page. He marveled at the home page image and soon found a small profile pic of Fem with her blonde hair in pigtails arranged around the crown of her head and details of her profile that revealed that she was twenty-six years of age. She was a handful of years younger than him and at one metre eighty centimetres was taller than him.

He continued to read.

English speaking mistress, dirty talking, joi, panty play, nylon encasement, role-playing host, cock and ball bondage, toe tuition, smothering, gagging, gimping, humiliation a specialty. Mervin found it difficult to associate her lovely young face with the claims she was making, but he was more than willing to find out.

Mervin began to browse the pictures. He loved the one showing a woman’s toes clad in skin colored hose gripping either side beneath the head of a large fat erect cock. Another showing a huge nylon hooded guy dressed in stockings and a garter belt being led by means of a tether of pantyhose tied around his balls. He gasped to see the next image, some guy with tan pantyhose pulled over his head. A tiny pink thong was arranged over the hose such that the gusset was precisely covering the guy’s nose. The icing on the cake was the white stocking toe that hung from his mouth as though his tongue was hanging out. Mervin’s own tongue was indeed hanging out and his mouth was dry.

Scrolling to the next picture he gripped his shaft tightly through his trousers when he saw a woman’s dainty feet clad in coffee coloured RHT stockings with her soles turned upward displaying a dark Havana heel and soles which had been adorned with a huge load of some guy’s viscous sperm-rich cum.

“If only my wife would do these things to me, let me squirt on her toes in such a dirty manner,” Mervin thought to himself and without any more hesitation, he looked to see if there was an available vacancy at Fem’s place during his short stay on business in Amsterdam.

“Bingo,” he exclaimed loudly when he saw that Fem’s room would be available to hire during his business trip. There were two formalities to be satisfied. He had to send a colour copy of his passport page details and supply a recent full frontal colour photograph of himself dressed in girly panties and a black garter belt with black stockings. Not only, but he was to take a crimson red lipstick and scrawl in large letters his full name across his pecs and ‘I’m a dirty panty slut’ across his midriff.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, bastard” thought Mervin knowing that his wife had no such items that he could borrow. Only those detestable knickers that imitated a man’s underwear designed by some so-called fashion guru. She wouldn’t even consider wearing nylon panties or hosiery insisting the synthetic material made her sweat profusely. The very reason why a guy loves to pull such items from the laundry basket and savour the trapped stench.

Mervin’s head went into overdrive and then he thought about the sexy lesbian Catherine that lived directly above them. He often admired her on the stair elegantly dressed in her smart suits and black hose and they had exchanged greetings several times. He had often heard her moaning through the ceiling of their bedroom. He brainstormed. What if he made up a story that there was water staining in their bedroom, perhaps he could convince his upstairs neighbor that he needed to check for leaks in her flat above. It was a long shot, particularly as she had a flatmate but his feverish desperation was leading him to risk anything.

“Act now,” he thought to himself, “or I could lose the opportunity of a bahis şirketleri lifetime.”

Mervin took a couple of spanners from his toolbox as props to support his story. He put on a pair of overalls for effect and filled a small bottle with water and put it in his overall pocket and headed directly to the flat above and rang the doorbell. So far so good. Catherine answered the door in her dressing gown and fluffy pink mules.

“Sorry to bother you Cath but there’s a stain growing on our bedroom ceiling, I was wondering if I could take a look to see if any of your radiators might be leaking?” he asked politely.

“Oh really, dear me, yes, sure, help yourself I’m just off for a shower,” Cath said cooperatively.

“Mind if I just nip in there for a sec, the leak, if there is one, will either be in there or the room next door,” Mervin said, referring to the bathroom and not intending to admit that he knew that she slept next door. His mind had worked so frantically that he had already considered the possible locations for Cath’s sexy bits and bobs. Namely, the panty drawer and the laundry basket, the latter was always either in one or the other of those rooms he desperately wished to be granted permission to enter.

“Sure, no prob, try to be quiet about it, the lazy bastard, Mark is still sleeping,” replied Cath.

Mervin would find an excuse to close the bathroom door if necessary, but in the first instance, he entered the bathroom and dropped to his knees and began to investigate the various appliances for leaks. There was no laundry basket, it had to be next door with her panty drawer. As Mervin was finishing his inspection Cath’s legs appeared in the doorway, a toweling robe reaching down to her knees and her lovely toes with crimson red nails peeping from the front of her pink fluffy mules. Mervin stood up to address her, a semi growing behind his overall.

Penis has no poker face and don’t think neither.

“Can’t immediately see anything wrong in there, mind if I take a look next door?” Mervin asked innocently.

“Help yourself, but I’m busting if you don’t mind,” Cath said as she swapped places with Mervin and closed the door behind her. Immediately he heard her piddle hitting the pan as he dawdled in the corridor to exam the copper tails on either side of the radiator. He wondered about the panties that might be clinging around her knees as she sat on the toilet seat.

Mervin heard the shower running and felt dizzy knowing the coast was clear. He entered Cath’s bedroom and pushed the door to without closing it. He took the water bottle from his pocket and immediately emptied it around the copper tail on one side of the radiator soaking a small circle of the carpet surrounding the pipe. His alibi was in place. Mervin went straight to a chest of drawers and opened the top drawer on the right. He had guessed correctly, it was full of knickers he took one of several pairs of large white silky elastic vintage bloomers that would suit his needs perfectly. He scored again with the second drawer it was full of black pantyhose and among them, he couldn’t believe his luck, there was a heaven-sent black garter belt which he quickly thrust into his pocket with Cath’s knickers. Sadly, there was not a stocking in sight. Seconds later he tipped the entire contents of a wicker laundry bin on the floor. He rummaged through the froth of lesbian laundry.

“These will do,” thought Mervin selecting one of several pairs of opaque black pantyhose which he stuffed into a second pocket and returned the laundry to the basket. Mervin was just about to leave the room when he remembered the need for crimson lipstick. On the dressing table were several lipsticks all in shades of pink. He took a crimson red nail varnish as a compromise.

Approaching the bathroom, he heard the shower stop running and quietly called through the door,

“Cath, the radiator was leaking next door, the nut needed a turn, I’ve sorted it out,” Mervin informed her.

“Okay, thanks for that, sorry about your ceiling,” called Cath.

“No problem caught it just in the nick of time, see you,” called Mervin through the bathroom door before letting himself out of the flat.

*

Mervin had a tough time removing the nail varnish letters from his chest, but he had completed the requirements and the passport copy and the explicit image had been sent. The lesbian’s panties and dismembered pantyhose lay at his feet and he picked up the silky white bloomers and held them between his hands marveling at their elasticity and how they had delightfully revealed the outline of his engorged cock and balls. Mervin pulled them over his head and extended his tongue to touch the silky cloth imagining that there was a sloppy gash beyond them. He took one stocking leg that he had cut from the pantyhose and bound his shaft and balls with it. Thrusting his hand inside the other leg, he turned it inside out and was delighted to see the traces of white skin cells of his neighbour’s toes littering the reinforced mesh. He held the toe to his nose and took a deep sniff and then another. If that wasn’t enough, he grabbed the exiled panty of her dismembered pantyhose and held the gusset to his nose. Pea and lesbian coosh infused his brain.

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