Madame Zoraida’s Show Changed Me from the Inside

As you can imagine, that ended up becoming a new routine. We both loved it. I got used to going to the office with the plug in and a pair of sheer stockings hidden under my clothes, feeling how they clung to my legs every time I crossed the room.

The sensation of having that object stretching me open all day excited me in a way I couldn’t explain. I spent the afternoon fantasizing about the moment I’d get home and continue the games Lucía and I had discovered just a few weeks earlier. And she knew it. It became customary for her to call me several times a day just to turn me on, and our conversations were always the same.

—Do you have the plug in? —she asked in that low voice.

—Right at this very moment I’m sitting on it.

—Does it turn you on?

—You know it does, a lot. And you’re the one to blame.

—How many days have you been using it nonstop?

—I think it’s been two already.

—Then your ass must be nicely stretched by now. I’m going to have to buy you a bigger one.

—If that’s what you want, I can’t say no.

—And what do you want?

—The idea of trying a bigger one drives me crazy. In fact, I die thinking about the moment you put it in me.

—Then you’ve got a surprise waiting for you tonight.

Believe it or not, I was completely beside myself. We had entered a dynamic in which, every two days, she would show up with a new plug, a little bigger than the last. Without barely noticing, I went from the smallest one in the catalog to one of very generous dimensions, one of those I would have sworn just a week earlier were impossible to get inside me.

***

At the same time, my dreams were changing little by little. Every night my wife and a mysterious woman whose face I could never quite see appeared in my bed. Both of them were dressed in thigh-high nylon stockings, stiletto-heeled boots, and a tightly laced corset. I could make out Lucía: cherry-red lips, dark eyeshadow on her lids, impossibly long false eyelashes and nails.

The new thing that week was that my wife wore a harness tied around her waist, holding a realistic-looking prosthesis that emerged from her crotch in an almost obscene way.

The mysterious woman took me by the shoulders and laid me on my back. While she lifted my legs to expose my ass, Lucía settled herself and pulled out the plug. I felt the artificial glans pressing against the opening, I moaned, I spread my own buttocks to invite her in, and I heard a soft voice telling me things.

—Like this, very good. You’ll see how pleasurable it is.

—You have to try new things.

—See? Don’t you like it? Feel how it penetrates you. Enjoy it.

And while Lucía rammed me, to the point of feeling the latex testicles slapping against my buttocks, the other woman caressed me slowly, tracing the full length of my member with her nails, which was harder than it had ever been in my life.

The orgasm spilled over my abdomen. The stranger cleaned it up with her tongue, then kissed my wife and passed from mouth to mouth everything she had gathered. Before leaving, Lucía put the plug back inside me.

That dream repeated itself all week with variations. It seemed to adapt to what happened during the day: if she waited for me with a bigger plug, that same night she would appear in my head with a larger prosthesis. By Friday, in my dreams she was using one of those I’d only ever seen in a movie. And she didn’t always take me in the same position: sometimes on all fours, sometimes on my back, sometimes on my side.

What never changed was the ending. The two of them collected my semen, passed it from one mouth to the other, or received it in a hand to lick it together while they kissed. And always the same phrase.

—What a delight. You should try it. But don’t worry, the time will come.

***

That brought us to Friday. Lucía suggested going back to see Madame Zoraida’s show. Truth be told, I wasn’t all that convinced, but after everything we had lived through in those weeks, I must confess I was far more willing to indulge my wife’s whims.

We went into the same place as before. Only two tables were occupied: one with Lucía’s four friends and another with four more women. The bar was empty; there wasn’t even a waitress in sight to take our order.

—I don’t understand how this place can function if they’re not even interested in selling drinks —I said to the group.

—Shut up, Marcelo, the show’s starting —one of them cut in.

At once the lights came up over the stage and Madame Zoraida appeared, even more spectacular than the first time. A skintight dress, her breasts about to burst out of the neckline, the skirt with that side slit reaching almost to her waist and revealing part of her buttocks. Her legs, encased in black nylon stockings, seemed to go on forever.

—Good evening, ladies —she said. She paused, looked straight at me, and added—: and gentleman.

I can’t explain it, but that’s the last thing I remember clearly. All of a sudden I fell asleep, as if someone had flipped a switch, and had one of the strangest dreams of my life.

***

In the dream, Madame Zoraida asked for a volunteer from the audience. Every woman at both tables raised her hand. She chose one from the other table, took her by the hand, and led her to the center of the room, where she asked her to bend over and rest her torso on an empty table.

Then she lifted her skirt, pulled down her underwear, and exposed her ass. She began to caress it, to play with her fingers: first one, then two, finally three.

Just when I thought that was strange enough, Madame pulled her own skirt aside, held it at one hip, slipped one hand under her underwear, and took out a male member that would make any porn actor jealous. She started to masturbate while questioning the woman stretched out before her.

—Do you want it?

—Yes, Madame, I need it.

—What do you want?

—Your cock inside me, Madame.

—What would you do to have it?

—Whatever you want.

—Anything?

—Yes, Madame. Anything you ask of me.

—Even giving yourself to the only man in the room?

—Of course, ma’am. It would be a pleasure.

—Then you’ll have it.

By then Madame’s member was fully erect, and I can say without exaggeration that it measured a solid twenty-five centimeters. She presented it to the woman’s ass and the woman swallowed it whole, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. She started riding her, and after a moment turned her head toward me.

—Don’t you want to try? It’s delicious.

I didn’t know what to say. My wife was beside me. How do I get out of this gracefully? I turned, looking for some sign from Lucía, and saw that she and her friends had all lifted their skirts and were wearing harnesses with prostheses that had nothing to envy Madame Zoraida’s member.

Lucía ran her hand over the artificial phallus as if she were masturbating herself, visibly aroused.

—Go on, it’ll be fun. I’ll watch you from here.

***

Like a sleepwalker, I went over to the pair on the table. Madame began to take off my pants and, in doing so, I was exposed in my sheer stockings and the plug I had in.

—What a lovely detail —she told me, while one hand played with my ass and the other stroked my genitals.

My erection was one of those I can rarely remember. She put a condom on me, and just as I was about to penetrate the stranger, the dream underwent another transformation.

All at once my hands were no longer my hands. Well, in truth they were: I recognized my arms with certainty, but something had changed. Attached to them were hands that could not be mine, completely feminine, with long dark-cherry-painted nails, rings, an appearance that could have belonged to any woman.

And yet they were joined to my arms, and I felt perfectly everything they touched. It was a bizarre sensation: looking at it, it seemed as if a woman were masturbating me, but the sensations were those of me touching my own penis myself.

Hard as that may be to believe, it turned me on even more. Especially when, as I penetrated the woman from behind, she began to moan and Madame brought her genitals close to me.

—Come on, caress me. It’s the least you can do after the gift I’ve given you.

Without a will of my own —after all, it was a dream— while I rode the woman I began to masturbate Madame, who seemed pleased.

—Slowly. You don’t want it to be over now, when we’ve only just begun.

***

As if obeying an order, the rest of the women stood up and each went to one from the other group, showing off their artificial cocks, masturbating themselves as they approached.

Each newly formed pair took a different position. One of the women sat on some kind of leather sofa and her partner settled onto the harness and started rocking. Another laid her partner’s torso across the bar, lifted her skirt, and impaled her in one thrust. The third of Lucía’s friends approached the last one and offered her phallus for her to kiss.

Meanwhile Lucía stayed seated at the table, masturbating herself and watching us with a lust I had never seen in her before.

—Come with me. After all, you’re the one who set all this in motion —Madame told my wife.

She lay back on the table next to ours, lifted her legs, and offered her ass to my wife. Lucía didn’t think twice: she fucked her until Madame’s artificial testicles slapped against her buttocks, and she started moving inside her, alternately kissing one breast and then the other.

I was entranced by the image. All those women with harnesses riding one another. Madame Zoraida, who in my dream turned out to be a transvestite, being taken by my wife. And me, in the middle of it all, penetrating a complete stranger while a pair of feminine hands —mine— caressed the hips of my new possession.

***

After a while, my partner that night asked me for something.

—Let me turn over. I want to come.

I couldn’t refuse. I moved aside so she could turn, and when she did and I prepared to enter her again, I saw that instead of a vagina she had genitals exactly like mine. And not only her: all the women from the other group, the ones being penetrated by Lucía’s friends, were transvestites too.

I was stunned. But almost automatically, without thinking, I entered her again and kept moving.

—Help me finish —she told me.

—How? —I asked innocently.

—Wouldn’t you masturbate me a little, please?

—Do it, Marcelo —my wife said beside me—. You have no idea how much it turns me on.

I took her cock in my new feminine hands and started to masturbate her, until shortly after she came and spattered my fingers with her semen. Then she took my hand and began licking finger by finger, almost ravenously, unwilling to waste a single drop of her own orgasm.

When I pulled out, she was the one who began to masturbate me. Almost immediately I reached climax too, this time spilling it into her other hand, which she had cupped like a bowl. She started licking, but before she finished drinking it all she stopped.

—Don’t you want to try? It’s delicious.

She extended her hand toward my mouth and, believe it or not, in the dream I stuck out my tongue and drank the remains of my own orgasm until her hand was completely clean.

—How shameful —I heard Lucía’s voice.

—What?

—That’s what I said. Shameful. You fell asleep as soon as the show started.

***

I looked around and the scene had nothing to do with my dream. The four strangers were seated at the neighboring table. I recognized the woman who was not a woman, the one I had penetrated, and she was truly beautiful. At that moment I thought: I don’t care that she’s transvestite, I love it.

I looked at my hands: they were my usual hands. I turned my head and, when I met the gazes of my wife’s friends, all I found was disapproval.

—How shameful —she repeated once more.