One Size Fits All

A man wakes up in a lady's house. It's a welcome break from his usual inane routine, until it becomes apparent that this house, and this lady, is impossible to leave. Ever. Watch a man's feeble attempts to escape his new home and woman!

When I woke up it was morning and I was in a bed I could never recognize in a room I could never afford. I was wearing a white T-shirt with a pink heart on it that was way too girly for me. It was also too big for me. The lady who owned it must have been two sizes taller than me. I was also wearing pink jogging pants. 

The lady who had brought me here came in and I saw that she was indeed much taller than me. Her hair was big, like a seventies fashion magazine model’s. She wore a T-shirt similar to the one I was wearing, two from a collection I assume. God, that T-shirt: the way the pink strawberry just rests in the cliff between her beautiful breasts…

She explained to me that I had asked her to “take me home” and that since she was as drunk as I were she made the mistake of taking me to her house. Apparently, I also spilled my drink all over my shirt and jeans that night so she had to strip them off my body to clean. We both had a long laugh at the situation.

Two weeks ago I would have been angry. Not outwardly, but I would have been kicked myself for being this stupid and getting drunk when I had important work to do. But right now, I had been fired days ago and, honestly, I had spent everyday since depressed and drunk. I was kind of thankful for this opportunity to relax and laugh.

I laughed a little less when she explained that by “take me home” she meant literally CARRY me to her car. How embarrassing. How humiliating…

She said I could go, but would prefer to wait for my clothes to wash since she liked that particular T-shirt she put on me. I said sure, expecting them to wash in a few minutes. Plus, she was very attractive, so I was in no rush.

While we waited for my clothes to dry, we talked about things. Things like our interests, my old job, her parents, etc. I was having fun…so much fun that I didn’t even notice the sun had gone down! 

“Well you can’t leave now!” she had said. “I haven’t even began washing it yet!”

I couldn’t believe it! I had carelessly allowed myself to spend the entire day at this woman’s house! So I wanted to suggested that I leave wearing her clothing and return them when I got home. But before I finished that sentence she walked toward me and scooped me up!

I should have said something, I should have protested. But the feel of her soft but firm arms around my body, cradling me…I must have been too embarrassed and…well, comfortable to say a thing. She said, “It’s way too dark and you don’t even have your car!”

My car! I had completely forgotten that I left it at the bar! But the feeling of being cradled softened my concern…

“I’ll take you upstairs to our bed and, I promise, first thing in the morning I’ll finish cleaning your clothes and you can leave!”

Our bed? I thought, as she put me on one side of the bed. Then, without warning, she lied down on the bed as well right next to me. The sheets, they were so warm. And I could feel her body pressed against mine, and smell her shampoo…when did she even shower? It wasn’t even that late but I felt so sleepy.

I blinked, and it was 9 pm. I closed my eyes for a little. When I opened them it was 10 pm. I blinked again, just for a little while, and it was 12 am. How was time fleeing so quickly? Did she bathe in between? I fell asleep.

It was morning again and I was so ashamed and embarrassed. I had unwillingly spent two nights in a row in this bed! I walked downstairs to the living room where she…oh man…she sat in her T-shirt, a different one from the same collection as before, a pink peanut with each peanut end enlarged by her big, round…

…Anyway, I asked her if she had washed my clothes yet, politely as I could. She said yes and that they’ll definitely be ready in an hour. In the meantime, she said, I should switch out of wearing her favorite T-shirt and into something else. Not knowing what else to do, I agreed.

Almost everything she owned was either pink T-shirts, pink pants, pink jeans, or dresses. I encourage any man who likes to wear dresses to live as they want to live, but it certainly isn’t for me. I picked up the least powerful…I mean, most faded of all of her shirts, a gray one with a light salmon pink kitten face, and grabbed a pair of jeans. It looked like it was getting cold outside and I had a long walk go through. Pink was a colour that I was warming up to, despite the circumstances.

I told the lady…I wish I could remember her name…that I was leaving. I tried to be as firm as possible. 

“Leaving? In this weather?” she said.

“Will you drive me?” I said.

“No,” she said and, to my surprise, folded her arms in a huff. “If you want to steal my shirts like this then I’m sorry, but I won’t help you.”

“Please be reasonable! I stayed here for two whole nights! I promise to return them!” 

“Men always say stuff like that before they leave,” she said. “They take what they want from you and then never come back. And it is your fault too that you had to sleep here last night…losing track of time…losing track of your surroundings…”

Something was going on now, that was clear. I decided that maybe talking to this lady was a bad idea. I tried looking away…but I couldn’t. She was mesmerizing…

…in that moment she looked like the most dazzling woman in the world to me. I have been attracted to many ladies, some friends and girlfriends, some movie stars or singers…but none of them looked anything like this one. She was tall. She was big, strong too. Her hair was wavy…and her breasts, covered in that T-shirt…

I managed to look away. I heard her huff, grumpily. She asked if I even knew where the bar was.

This made me pause for a second. I mumbled something about asking for directions. I grabbed my jacket looked for my keys.

I heard a buzzing noise. She had turned on the TV. “Fine, leave,” she was saying. “I was thinking we could watch this movie, you know, to wait for your clothes to wash. But I guess I’ll just watch it on my lonesome.”

Here’s the thing…I don’t know what movie she turned on. I just remember being mildly interested. I didn’t feel anything out of place, I was just staring at the movie playing with mild interest.

By this point I was buttoning the jacket. My hands stayed rested on my middle button. I had actually found my keys, put it in my pocket. I was ready to leave! I was just about to leave! But in a way, there was never a chance I could leave. 

I don’t even remember taking off my coat. I don’t remember sitting down next to her, with her arm wrapped around me, leaning against her thick, cushion thighs. And I certainly don’t remember giving her my key and cell phone.

The movie ended. I was so engrossed that I watched the entire movie from start to finish.

That’s when my coat was finished. I “woke up” so to say to the sound of her cheery voice. “See? That wasn’t so long! Now I’ll drive you to the bar, dear!” 

She got up and, for one second, her leaving me alone on the couch felt so cold. I immediately got up and followed her. I may have followed a little closer than I intended to.

She showed me my clothes. They weren’t pink or anything like that. She hadn’t mixed my clothes with her pink ones, or lost my shirt, or damaged it, or anything like that. I felt them. They were clean and dry. It looked like there was no need for me to worry. 

“Put them on!” she said. 

“Um…maybe I should do that in the washroom? Or something?” I said.

“Oh you. I’ve already seen what you have to offer, remember?” she winked.

Reminded that she had stripped me down made me blush. I hid my face by turning away and, without asking, walked upstairs to her washroom.

I took off the pink kitten t-shirt and slipped on my shirt. It was so warm. It was…softer than I had remembered. I did the same with my jeans and was met with a terrifying feeling of warmth, softness, and a sweet and sour scent I couldn’t quite identify. What sort of laundry soap did she use? 

The jeans wrapped around my legs snugly, which was odd as before they were a little baggy. Around my crotch area…oh God…even through my underwear I could feel such comfort.

I…I couldn’t believe what was happening…did the lady do something to my clothes?

I tried to walk, but the moment my pants brushed against my crotch I felt a jolt. What was going on? Was I drugged? Awkwardly, I walked toward the bathroom door and opened it. I walked like a penguin, waddling in hopes of minimizing just how fucking comfortable my clothes were. The way the shirt felt rubbing against my chest didn’t help either. God, what was wrong with me?

I looked up and saw her staring at me. “Are you ready to go?”

“What did you do to my clothes? They’re…they smell…they…”

“Oh stop muttering, please! I just washed them and used a lot of my special detergent. I had to since it was just so stained with beer.”

“My pants…” I wished I hadn’t said that. I saw the corner of her mouth twitch into a grin.

“Your pants? Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes! Yes absolutely!” I didn’t want to stay in this house for another second.

With a smirk that was just so…victorious…she walked up to me and placed a hand on my chest. Whatever that T-shirt was washed in, the fumes must have sucked right into my skin. It was euphoric and, because enough of me was still trying to escape, it was terrifying. And even then I was wondering if I were just imagining things, and she meant me no harm?

“Listen. I know you must be going through some rough times right now. With losing your job and getting drunk all of the time…maybe you’re finding it so hard to leave this house because you don’t really want to…If you want to stay another night, that’s alright by me.”

“Please…drive me home…give me my keys…”

“Tell you what. If you can make it to my car without your terrible luck…and awkward clumsiness impeding you, then I will drive you home without a word…okay?”

She took two steps backwards with a subtle sway of her perfect hips and turned to the door. I followed her.

Every step I took felt euphoric. The tight jeans wrapped around me…around my crotch…staring at her backside. I couldn’t look away from her. Her hair reaching down to her waist, her big, strong but soft arms, her curves like a vase…

I’m a man. I am the type of man who was born with a penis. Those tight, sweet smelling jeans forcefully reminded me of a man’s weaknesses…

…do I have to tell you what happened? Do I have to tell you how I tried, in vain, to hide the growing bulge in my pants that formed just half the distance to the front door? Do I have to tell you that the tightness of my crotch line, mixed with smell and warmth, made it feel like her hands were always cupped around my groin? And the bounce of each step felt like an irresistible fondle…

…I’ll just explain her face when it happened. She didn’t even try to hide how delighted she was when it happened. She laughed like she had just won a raffle contest. For a solid forty seconds that felt like an eternity she giggled and watched me. It felt so good, and I couldn’t hide it at all. I came more than I ever had and it showed.

It was so intense, so humiliating, I fell to my knees in shame. I think I cried. Yes, I cried. She walked up to me, nothing subtle about her hips this time, and kneeled down.

“Well, I don’t think even you want to go outside like this…”

“P-please! I need to leave tonight! Just…just…”

“Just what? Drive you to the bar like this? Stink up my car, let you spray my passenger seat in gunk again and again and again until we get to the bar?”

“I won’t…” I was sniffling now. “…I won’t…”

“Oh yes you would,” she whispered. “Because we are two hours away from the bar by car, dear.”

Two whole hours! How? Where were we? How far away were we from my home??? How did I never ask these questions before now? I looked at the beautiful seductress in front of me. The woman who ruined me, and right now just felt so much larger than me. I felt like a kindergartner if the teacher had told me my mom was never picking me up and I had to stay in school with her for the weekend.

“Oh dear, don’t cry, sweet baby,” she cooed. She wrapped her arms under my shoulders and lifted me up so easily I really did feel like a child next to her. Even if the thought to fight her had ever come to mind I could tell it would be useless. She could hold me in this house against my will with just her muscles alone if she wanted.

“W-why are you keeping me here?”

“Don’t be silly, little boy. I’m not doing anything. You were the one who stayed until sundown last night. You were the one who stayed with me to watch the movie with me just now. And you were the one who ruined your pants again, right when I just had them washed. And you, my friend, need to shower. Now.”

There was no use in disobeying her. She helped me up and led me back to the washroom…

(To Be Continued)

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(This was originally one of the first stories I had ever posted on the old tumblr, but in terms of conception it is even older than that. I first had the idea/erotic fantasy of being kept from leaving a powerful woman's home back in 2014, during my first year of college.

The fact that I never wrote the names of the man or woman made this difficult to write, but I think it added a sense of applicability to the narrative. This wouldn't be the last time I refused to give my characters actual names, however.

All in all, this story was me trying to capture the feeling of helplessness. Of being obstructed, but not having a clear source of said obstruction. It seemed to ring true to some readers since this is a relatively popular story on my old blog)