My Favorite Panty Boy: How I Turn Him Into My Pretty Little Secret
I live for the moment a cocky guy realizes he’s not in charge anymore. I’m Jamie—long blonde hair that brushes the small of my back, a body built for sin, and a filthy mouth that never holds back. And nothing gets me wetter than making a man into my personal panty boy.
It started the night he showed up at my place thinking he was going to bend me over and take what he wanted. I let him believe it for about ten minutes. Then I locked the door, pushed him down onto the bed, and pulled out the soft pink lace panties I’d been saving just for him. “You’re my panty boy now,” I told him, voice low and sweet while I straddled his chest. “You’re going to wear these for me, and you’re going to love every second of it.”
He tried to laugh it off at first. That stopped the second I wrapped my fist around his cock and squeezed. “These go on, or this stays locked away.” I slipped the panties over his hips myself, tucking his hard cock into the thin fabric until it strained against the lace. The sight of him like that—thick thighs, swollen cock outlined in pink, face flushed with shame—made my pussy throb. I ground against his face until he was moaning into me, then I made him look down at himself.
“Look at my pretty panty boy,” I whispered, sliding two fingers under the waistband to stroke him. “You’re going to keep these on all night. You’re going to walk around my apartment in them. And every time I tell you to bend over, you’re going to show me how wet the front is getting.”
He came the first time with my fingers still inside the lace, cock pulsing against the soft material while I laughed and called him my good little panty boy. I didn’t let him take them off. Instead I made him clean me with his tongue while the soaked fabric clung to him. Later I bent him over the edge of the bed, pulled the panties to the side just enough, and fucked him slow with a toy while I told him exactly how owned he looked.
By morning he was hard again just from the way the lace rubbed against him every time he moved. That’s the power of being a panty boy under my rules—he doesn’t get to decide when it’s hot. I do. I decide when the panties stay on, when he gets to touch himself through them, and when he gets to beg for more.
If you’re the kind of man who secretly craves this—who wants a dominant blonde to dress him, tease him, and enforce every filthy rule—then you already know what you need.
Want to see how far I’ll take my next panty boy? Call me now and let’s find out.
Call Jamie: 877-974-6385 ext 917
Meet Jamie: https://sinfulkink.com/jamie/