[M4M] throwaway bc my roommate knows my main and i’m. yeah.
ok so this is going to sound insane but i need to just say it somewhere. threw this account together at like 2am because my hands won’t stop shaking and i can’t sleep even though i should probably be sleeping after what just happened on my couch but ANYWAY.
my roommate is a gym guy. like, aggressively normal. jock type. plays beer pong on weeknights, keeps his gym stuff in a duffel bag in our living room that smells like old sweat and axe body spray, the whole deal. we’ve lived together for eight months and we barely talk. he’s usually out doing gym stuff or seeing girls from tinder, whatever. we just exist in the same apartment. it’s fine. it’s been fine.
was fine.
last tuesday he was looking for his protein shaker (which he thought he left in my room for reasons i still don’t understand) and my bottom drawer was sort of open—like not locked, i didn’t lock it, i just. kept it mostly closed in that way where everyone knows you want privacy but i mean. it’s not hidden. and he found it.
he found my panties. all of them. the pink ones, the lace ones, the ones with the little bows, the two pairs of thigh-highs i’ve been too embarrassed to mention to literally any human, and the pink plug i got like six months ago that i honestly forgot i even—
and the PINK PLUG.
he was just standing there when i came back from the bathroom and he had the drawer open and he was holding the pink plug like it was a loaded gun.
“oh,” i said. very intelligent. i was like oh. that’s. oh.
“oh,” he said back. and then he just. looked at me.
i tried to explain? like i started to explain about how it was just like. a personal thing. a sexuality exploration thing. he doesn’t need to like. care about it. it doesn’t affect him. but he kept looking at me with this smile that wasn’t mean exactly but it was knowing if that makes sense? and then he said, “we should talk about this,” which is the worst sentence anyone has ever said in the history of language.
we didn’t talk about it. not really. he just held up his phone. he’d taken pictures. of the drawer. of the plug. while i was peeing. “you have two choices. option one: these go to the group chat. you know. the gym guys. or option two. you don’t want to know option two. actually. you’re gonna pick option two and you’re not gonna tell anyone.”
“i’m not—” i started and he cut me off.
“a week,” he said. “you do what i say for a week. wearing those panties. sending me pics when i ask. following instructions. nobody finds out. the drawer stays a secret. friday we’re done and you never have to think about this again.”
and like. worst part is. the worst WORST part. i already knew by “instructions” what he meant. and i said yes. i actually said yes. i said “ok. yeah. ok.” like an absolute idiot while he was basically just sitting there holding my plug and smiling at me like he’d won something.
monday was the worst because it was the most public. i wore the pink panties under my jeans all day with my heart in my fucking throat and at like 2pm he texted me: library bathroom. now. and i had to go into the bathroom stall and pull my jeans down and take a picture of my panties and send it to him and my hands were shaking so bad i could barely hold the phone steady. he replied like five seconds later with just a smiley face.
i was hard the entire rest of the day and hated myself about it.
tuesday was just regular—more pics throughout the day, nothing too bad, bathroom shots, the usual humiliation. but wednesday. wednesday was when he decided the panties under clothes thing wasn’t enough anymore.
wednesday i came home and he was just sitting on the couch in his gym shorts and a tank top and he said, “you’re gonna put on those thigh-highs and that little skirt you have—yeah i found it—and you’re gonna come sit on the couch with me for like an hour while we watch tv.”
“what?” i said. “are you insane?”
“you agreed. a week. you don’t get to negotiate now. go get dressed.”
and i did. i actually went to my room and put on the thigh-highs (which is amazing btw, like there’s something about them that just makes you feel like you’re owned by someone, if that makes sense) and the little skirt, and i had to sit next to him on the couch while he pretended to watch whatever was on netflix but kept putting his hand on my thigh and just. leaving it there. squeezing. like he owned me. and i was so hard it was actually painful.
he didn’t even touch me sexually. just kept his hand on my thigh and watched tv like it was nothing while i sat there struggling to breathe. after like an hour of that he just said, “ok you can go,” like i was dismissed, and i went back to my room and like. i’m not even going to detail what happened. let’s just say the thigh-highs stayed on.
thursday he texted me a link to something and i clicked it and it was a video of this guy getting fucked in panties and thigh-highs and he just wrote tomorrow and then sent a thumbs up emoji and i legitimately almost died. like i read that message and my whole body just. went hot. which is not great considering this is my roommate who still eats his cereal right over the couch.
and then friday happened.
friday he told me to come into the living room after work and i did and he was just sitting on the couch in his boxers with his cock already half-hard and he said, “put them on. the thigh-highs. the skirt. everything. and get on your knees.”
and i did. i did all of it. i put on the thigh-highs and the skirt and my panties and i got on my knees in front of my own roommate on my own couch and he put his hand in my hair and just looked at me for like the longest five seconds of my life.
“you’re such a little sissy,” he said, and i know that shouldn’t have done it for me but it DID. “you know that? you came in here with this whole secret drawer like you thought no one would ever find out. but you wanted someone to find out. you wanted someone to do this to you.”
“i—” i tried to say something and he just pulled my head forward and put his cock against my lips.
“no talking. just your mouth.”
i sucked him like my life depended on it. like it would somehow make him not broadcast my panty drawer to every person i know. but also like. i was actually into it. which is a whole thing i’m not going to unpack right now. he was big and hard and he tasted like salt and he kept one hand in my hair and just fucked my mouth slow and deep and i was gagging and he didn’t care and i didn’t care and then he pulled me off.
“stand up,” he said, and i did, and he spun me around and just bent me over the arm of the couch. he pushed the skirt up and pulled the panties down to like mid-thigh and got a bottle of lube from under the cushions (which means he was PLANNING this, which is somehow worse and better) and worked himself into me. slow at first. then not slow.
he had me on my knees on the couch and was working me open with his cock while calling me his good little sissy and i came in the panties. like i literally came in my panties while he was fucking me on the couch and telling me what a good girl i was and none of this is normal and none of this is healthy and i don’t even care.
he came like two minutes later, pushed all the way in, holding me down by my hips while he filled me up in my own living room on my own couch and then just. stayed there. breathing hard.
“same time next week?” he said.
and i said yes. i actually said yes. what is wrong with me.
the panties are in my bottom drawer. he moved the plug next to them when i wasn’t looking.
update: he literally has a recurring calendar invite on my phone. every friday. i am genuinely not okay.
