My girlfriend, Sheila, showed up at my place as I was getting ready to go out that evening with her to celebrate my birthday. She had a present for me, in one of those gift bags I reached inside and found lacy a white G-string and two wide metal cock rings.
“Happy birthday, Lenny,” she said, as I extracted the items from the bag. “I hope you like what I got for you, and I expect you to wear them on our date, tonight. So, run off to the bedroom and change into your new panties.”
This wasn’t the first time she had given me new apparel to put on. She had already thrown out all my old boxers and briefs, replacing them with a set of shear, almost transparent items that I will have to admit feel really good against my skin. I now had a collection of G-strings, see-through silk boxer briefs and low-cut bikini briefs with a rear panel that was as transparent as women’s hosiery.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy all the attention to my wardrobe, but she does seem a little bossy about it. This time was another step in the direction she wanted me to head in, so, I took it all philosophically. She seems to love me, and the least I can do is agree to wear the sexy clothing she has bought me.
This time, though, it was a little tougher than before. I wasn’t used to cock rings all that much, and by the time I got my balls and dick inserted in the larger one and the head of my pecker through the small one, I had a raging erection. I had seen photos of guys wearing these items, so I knew where they were supposed to go, but the boner I had developed made it hard to cover everything with the front piece of the lace G-string.
We got to the club she had chosen, the Eternal Essex Cabaret and Night Club. The club features drag queens, female impersonators and gay comedy acts. We ate some excellent tacos from a food truck parked outside because the club only served drinks. No food service meant they could use smaller tables, fewer service staff members and crowd in more people in the given space.
I had heard that the shows were wild, spontaneous and sometimes embarrassing. First up was the cabaret performance with twelve sexy women in skimpy costumes parading and dancing to big band jazz music. I knew that some of the women in the group were actually men, but they were all so well costumed and made up, that I found it impossible to distinguish between them. I found this part of the show very exciting with all that practically naked flesh on display, which, of course, was bringing back my erection.
Then outrageously dressed Francine Phoenix came out in a bright pink gown with all sorts of shiny bangles and sequins forming two diagonal stripes. Her wig and flamboyant feather headdress swayed as she sang and danced to a medley of show toons from well-known Broadway musicals.
During the music, Sheila reached over and carefully pulled my pants zipper down so that she could reach inside and rub her hand back and forth on my engorged dick and dig down deeper to cup my balls in the palm of her hand.
Kitty Nexdoor came on stage for an interactive act. She was made up with the pure white face of a teenager but dressed in a leather outfit, complete with corset G-string, stockings and tall boots. She asked the women to tell her if they were celebrating any sort of anniversary. Five women raised their hands and then Kitty challenged their male companions to come up on stage and submit to a spanking with an assortment of whips, paddles, leather belts and riding crops she had on a rack up there.
The audience really got into this act, by encouraging the men to go up on stage. They chanted the men’s names, as they were shared with the group by their female partners. Stagehands brought out a piece of furniture shaped so that men could kneel on one part and bend over the other part, providing the mistress a clear target for her work.
As Kitty went down, smacking each participant one time with each instrument of pain, Sheila laid her head on my shoulder and pulled my hand over to the hem of her short skirt. I found her pussy naked and panty-less under the skirt. I slid my finger inside her and began to move it around, just a little bit, to give her a taste of the torment she was inflicting on my fuck-stick.
After the intermission and the second cabaret performance, Pandora Purty came on stage. She is an extravagant drag queen with too much hair, too much makeup and a loud bawdy mouth. She is comedian and provocateur who regularly shows up at pollical meetings in complete drag with a litany of demands for the rights of the LGBTQ community.
During her performance that everyone was thoroughly enjoying, she asked the women to identify the men who were wearing panties under their male attire. Sheila and two other women led the three of us up onto the stage where we sat in three chairs and our partners stood behind us.
Pandora then began to interview us, “Are you really wearing a pair of panties tonight?”
“Yes,” I answered. The other two answered, as well.
“Do you often wear panties?”
“I wear a G-string to work every day,” I answered, then added, “Also, all of my underwear is practically transparent, very silky to the touch and fit me like a second skin.” The audience applauded and hooted with glee at this response.
When it was my turn again, Pandora asked me, “Would you describe the panties you are wearing tonight?”
I told the audience, “I am wearing a white lace G-string can barely contain my moisture-seeking missile because it is being held firmly by two cock rings that will not allow it the shrivel up.”
Finally, Pandora said, “Ladies, are you ready to reveal your men’s panties? If so, let’s proceed as we discussed earlier.”
Sheila came around in front of me then, knelt down and took my shoes off, revealing that I was wearing women’s stockings instead of men’s socks. She knew this, of course, because she had gotten rid of all my socks and stocked my dresser with assorted colors of thigh high stockings.
Then she unbuckled my belt and unfastened my pants and had me stand up. The pants fell to the floor and I stepped out of them.
I should have felt humiliated, standing in front of that laughing and hollering audience. There I was with my hard-on clearly visible, just barely contained by the practically transparent front section of the G-string, but instead, I felt liberated.
The people in that crowd would remember my erect phallus for a long time. Some of them were drooling over it as we speak, both guys and gals. All of them wondering what it would feel like in their mouths that night.
So, I gave them a show, I turned around slowly, revealing my naked ass. I blew them a kiss over my shoulder and then slowly turned around again to show them my erection, now freed from the constraining fabric, pointing straight at each one of them. It had become a weapon in the eternal war of sexual pleasure. It was Sexcaliber!
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/hga3v5/she_liberated_me_oc_fiction_man_in_panties_drag