My First Thanksgiving With Her Family
She kept playing with the remote. Sometimes she turned it off for a minute, letting me think I was safe. Then she would flash me that look across the table and press the button again.
FemdomU Submissive Reader
Dear FemdomU Forum,
I still cannot believe what she did to me that first Thanksgiving at her parents’ house, or how perfectly she set me up for it. Looking back, the signs were all there. I just did not understand what she was training me for.
For weeks before the trip, she kept slipping different plugs into my ass. Small at first, then a little bigger each time. Some for an hour, some for an afternoon. She would kiss me, tell me I was “getting better,” and then go about her day while I walked around trying to pretend I was normal. At the time I thought it was just her kink. Now I know she was preparing me.
When we arrived at her parents’ place, she gave me a tour of the house. Her voice was sweet, almost playful. She saved her old bedroom for last. As soon as she closed the door behind us, everything changed. She told me to pull my pants down, bend over her desk, and I did it without a word. She opened her bag and took out something I had never seen before. I heard the click of a plastic case and felt her fingers spreading me. The plug she slid into me was larger than anything she had ever given me, snug and heavy in a way that made my legs shake.
Before I could even breathe, she whispered, “Good. Now go sit at the dinner table with my family.”
I must have looked terrified, because she kissed my cheek like she was sending a kid off to school. Then she straightened her dress, opened the door, and walked out as if nothing had happened.
Sitting at that table felt impossible. Every chair scrape, every shift of my hips made the plug press deeper. Her mother kept asking me polite questions while her father carved the turkey, and all I could think about was keeping my breathing normal.
Then it happened. Under the table, hidden in her lap, she clicked something. The plug came alive.
It started with a soft pulse, just enough to make me stiffen. My fork rang against my plate. Her eyes slid to mine with the smallest smile. No one else noticed a thing.
She clicked again. A stronger vibration. A long, slow hum.
My body betrayed me immediately. Heat crawled up my neck. My thighs tightened. I tried to shift, but shifting only made the pressure worse. Her brother asked me if I wanted more stuffing while the plug throbbed inside me, and I could barely answer.
She kept playing with the remote. Sometimes she turned it off for a minute, letting me think I was safe. Then she would flash me that look across the table and press the button again.
I was trapped between wanting to crawl under the table and wanting her to keep going.
At one point her mother said, “Are you alright, dear? You look warm.”
Her hand brushed my arm. I nearly choked on air.
The worst part was that it felt good. Too good. More than I could handle in silence. Every time she increased the intensity, my body reacted. My breathing got shallow. My vision blurred. The tablecloth hid my shaking leg, but not the way I gripped my napkin like a lifeline.
She whispered to me at one point, leaning close enough that only I could hear. “You trained for this.”
And that was it. The quiet push I could not resist.
The next time she pressed the button, something took me over. My whole body tightened, my breath caught, and I felt myself lose control right there in my pants at her parents’ table. No touching, no warning, just a helpless release I could not stop.
I kept my face as neutral as possible, swallowing hard and staring at my plate while the world tilted.
She turned the plug off.
She reached under the table, rested her hand on my thigh, and squeezed once. A silent “good boy.”
No one else ever suspected a thing. Thankfully, even though my tighty-whites were drenched in cum, it didn’t quite soak through my slacks.
But every Thanksgiving since then, whenever her father carves the turkey and her mother asks if I want seconds, I feel that same phantom hum deep inside me. And I know exactly who trained me to handle it.
Yours in trembling obedience,
A very well behaved guest
This is good. And good training, for real. I’ve described here previously that, with the assistance of his secretary, I did similar to krissi at his office, giving presentations and whatnot.
Things like this train mental discipline.