A Borrowed Key

Softly whimpering to myself, I stood on the wall with hands clasped behind me. Mistress had enjoyed my nervousness, dressing me for her party, showing off her well behaved sissy. Latex stockings tightly hugging my legs, feeling their tension with every step, matching elbow length gloves denying me the sensation I so enjoyed, running hands up and down my feminised legs. She somehow always knew how to excite and torment me simultaneously.

My top, if you could call it that, was completely transparent. Not subtle, or just a hint of my nipples showing, oh no. Clear as day, fully on display, the skirt wavy and pushed out at my waist. I blushed the moment I saw myself in it, clit and plug exposed as Mistress trapped my arms behind me. Her hands rubbing my clit, my ass, moaning from her touch, smiling at the effects the outfit was having on her good girl. Hair in pig tails, four inch black heels, and the constant swoosh of my skirt on my clit, I whimpered staring at my reflection, knowing this would be a very, very, long night.

Legs rubbing back and forth, not daring to move yet excitable frustration rampantly coursing through my body, I could only stand still through my aching desire. Caged, plugged, Mistress' good little sissy, I never knew what I wanted in these moments. Did I want to be released to cum, fucking one of the many beautiful people at her party? Did I want someone to lead me into a back room, tearing out my plug to replace it with their cock? Did I want to be on my knees, pleasuring the very thing stolen from me? My poor brain just didn't know, simply letting my clit torment me with an undefined need.

Lost in my own little kinky world, I squeaked when I felt hands on my chest. Opening my eyes, I saw an adorable woman, curiously drinking me in with a knowing smile. Burning from being caught in such an excited state, I blushed hard as she giggled at me, which of course brought further blushing to my cheeks.

Well, someone is having a good time all by themselves.

I glared at my new tormentor, her hands not leaving my body, starting to wander up and down, exploring the submissive sissy before her, hands still clasped behind me. Tiny fingers began tracing over my excited little clit, forcing a moan from my lips I tried desperately to silence. Cupping and spanking, smiling through each noise escaping me, she continued to feel my frustration, relish in it.

Abby, as I came to know, was very intrigued about Mistress' sissy. She informed me that Mistress had filled her in about all sorts of details about me, curious to learn more about one of her favourite toys. Unable to hold her gaze, I simply whimpered and stared away while she explored, played, and teased my clit. Soon I was turned around, ass out, hands still behind my back, moaning into the wall. Abby's hands moved to my ass, giggling while she spanked and grabbed to her heart's content.

Pressing against me, humping my plug with her crotch, I moaned into the wall as she questioned me. Hand back on my clit, she tapped and squeezed as I answered with a broken voice. Why I liked being a sissy, being fucked, having such a cute clit, being dressed like a whore. Losing myself in being dominated, I answered it all honestly, unable to hide or deny this side of myself to her. An open book and a horny mind, my loose lips giving her even more ammunition to tease and frustrate me.

Turning me around, seeing the frustration built up in my eyes, she tapped my balls hard enough to make me wince.

See you around, Rory.

With a wink, the most adorably evil smile I've ever seen, and a blown kiss, Abby disappeared into the house. I couldn't help but watch her leave, ass swaying hypnotically in her red dress. While often in sissy mode under Mistress' control I found myself craving men and cock, there was nothing on my mind for the rest of that night other than that dress, that smile, and that woman.

Over the next few months I had several run ins with Abby. Each one leaving me breathless, excited, frustrated, and wanting. That evil, sly, smile haunted my dreams regardless of what I wore. Each compliment she sent my way burnt into my mind, feeling each spank linger for hours after she had gone. Once again, my brain didn't help at all with sorting through my emotions. One thing, however, was abundantly clear: I really liked Abby.

Sitting in my favourite coffee shop, Rory slightly pushed to the back of my mind, I enjoyed the morning buried in my book. Looking up as the door opened, I nearly fell out of my chair as I saw Abby walk in, outfit far more casual than what she usually wore to Mistress' parties. In fairness, my jeans and sweater were quite different as well to my usual attire for such events.

Blushing, I tried to hide my smile as I stared back into my book, torn between the hope she didn't recognise me, and that she did. After all, not everyone wants their kinky life to invade their "normal" one, enjoying the separation. Yet, every time I chanced looking up from the pages I was no longer reading, I felt her stare on me, seeing the recognition without origin. As if she had a sign on her forehead that easily read, "how the fuck do I know him?"

Daytime Abby was apparently as curious as Kinky Abby, soon sitting at my table, that adorable glare directed at me. Apologising, she asked if we knew each other, which I confirmed we indeed did. But, being a brat unfortunately extends to all walks of my life, not just as Mistress' sissy, refusing to tell her how. She pestered and persisted, until I saw the recognition spread across her face, eyes wide with excitement as she whispered one simple word.

Rory?

My blush was the only answer Abby needed, squealing as she launched in for a hug. Sitting back down, we chatted for hours, getting to know one another in a completely different light. Her talent for forcing a blush to my face in full force, I felt so at ease talking with her. Hand on my leg, she steered the conversation wherever she wished, feeling as if I was simply along for the ride. Returning to a hushed tone, she leaned in to ask if I was still caged. I blushed,always, explaining Mistress controlled me even in boy mode.

Abby giggled, enjoying the red in my cheeks, calling me cute. She demanded my phone, putting in her information, saying she wanted to see me again. Kissing my forehead, her beautiful dominant stare holding me firm, once again ensuring I watched as she walked away. Watch I did, my mind a fog from the whirlwind that just swept me up, still a bit unsure as to what just happened.

All week we talked back and forth, blushing as I was "forced" to send her Rory pictures. I showed off a variety of outfits both Mistress and I had picked out over the years, giggling as she commented on each one. After seeing one of my favourite dresses, Abby insisted I bring it to her place so she could get me ready. Light pink, a tight waist that flared into adorable flowered ruffles. I always felt like such a princess in it, twirling back and forth, feeling the material tickling my clit.

I was quickly stripped at her apartment, giggling at seeing my cage once again. She gently tapped on my balls, enjoying the whimpers it forced out of me, watching as I slowly slipped into my submissive, feminine self. Rubbing and teasing, Abby ensured I was frustrated and hers, before sliding lace pink panties up my legs. Taking my hand, she led me to her bedroom to get ready, enjoying playing with my face, trying different make-up styles to match my outfit for the evening.

Nails, lips, and eyeshadow all closely matching my cute dress, Abby squealed seeing the final product, having me twirl in my heels. Blushing, secretly enjoying all the attention, she gave me no choice as I was quickly ushered out the door, arm in arm with this beautiful, dominant woman. Her own dress dark blue, a complete juxtaposition to mine, making me feel even more girly and feminine.

As we sat down for drinks, I tried hard to ignore the stares directed at me. Abby giggled, seeing the blush on my face, running her leg up and down mine, hands never far. She enjoyed prying even more information about me, soon feeling the ease I first experienced with her in the coffee shop. By the time we left the bar I was all smiles, unable to take my eyes off her, poor clit straining in my pretty dress.

Stripped back down to my panties and corset, Abby had me undress her, somehow even more commanding when she was naked. Pulled between her legs, I relished the moans coming out of her as my tongue circled her clit. Each orgasm of hers exciting me, frustrating me, and invigorating me. Never stopping, lost in making her cum, soon I felt gentle hands pulling my face to hers, kissing me deeply. Smiling, Abby fell asleep on my chest, my clit firmly held in her palm.

Her teasing at Mistress' party took on a whole new light, knowing that the silly sissy often wrapped in latex would later be between her legs, her hands running through my hair as I listened to orgasm after orgasm. Always teasing, loving my own frustrated and denied clit, I could only whimper as each night we spent together ended with her cupping, rubbing, and holding me, aching and desperate. She seemed content with this arrangement, falling asleep to my personal torment.

Soon after we started dating, Abby had seen my entire wardrobe for Rory, even adding to it with her own tastes. I showed off my lingerie, dresses, outfits, nylons, and costumes. Through it all she giggles, cheered, gasped, and for the more humiliating and sissy outfits...openly laughed. One of which, a ridiculous frilly bold pink outfit Mistress made me wear in punishment once, Abby fell off the bed laughing to herself. Through joyful tears in her eyes, and the permanent glare on my face, she promised that I would soon wear it out with her.

Despite my frustrations, the constant aching in my clit, I was so happy being with Abby. Making her cum wasn't a chore, nor did it make me annoyed that it was never reciprocated. Rather, I loved being between her legs, or kneeling before her, those adorable moans washing over me as her thighs tightened, holding my head in place. Often she dressed me up, but even naked or in a more masculine mood, Abby always enjoyed being in charge, warmly patting my cheek or playing with my hair, calling me a good girl.

Laughing, we both collapsed on the bed after a night out at a local club. The fishnet bodysuit Abby had made me wear covered by some tight little shorts and a crop top, her own little rocker sissy. She wore something similar, a bit more conservative, leaving the exhibitionism to me, forced or otherwise. Giggling, she climbed on top of me, soon stripped to the body stocking. Entire body covered to my neck, she grinded herself against my clit, hands exploring while I whimpered from her touch.

Getting naked, she returned to the frustrating tease, making me watch as she rubbed her pussy up and down my cage, aching as I so desperately wanted a release. Smiling, Abby moved up to kiss me, hand on my face, slowly losing myself in her touch as I often did. A playful look in her eye, she mentioned a surprise, disappearing into her purse. Never in my wildest dreams would I have guessed what she pulled out.

A key.

My key.

Wide-eyed, confused, Abby giggled as she calmed me down. Her hands playfully rubbing my straining clit, she told me how Mistress let her borrow it, asking to play with her good girl. My mind screamed at me, saying it was a trap, or a test. Yet, I watched as she slid the key into my cage, pulling out the internal locking tumbler, the welcomed feeling of being free usually reserved for cleaning once a week. Quickly tucking my cock through the ring, Abby smiled as I fully sprung to life, aching and excited.

Her hands stroked my cock, forcing a loud groan from my mouth. Rubbing some oil and lube in her palms, she slowly and carefully played with me, eyes never leaving mine. I could barely think, feeling her tiny hands moving up and down my cock, instantly feeling so close to the edge. Whimpering, completely at the mercy of Abby, I simply watched as she played with me, giggling seeing the emotions on my face.

Scooting up, she once again rubbed her pussy against me, a thousand times more enticing being uncaged. Her own excitement evident, enjoying the feeling of my hard cock on her clit, cute nipples beginning to harden. Leaning in to kiss me, I held her tightly my hands in her hair as I matched her moans, moving in rhythm with her grinding.

Sitting up, hands on my chest, Abby stared down as she lifted, gently guiding herself on top of me, sliding down my cock. My mouth open, almost unable to process what was happening, stretching into her perfect pussy, slowly pushed deeper and deeper inside of her. Slightly shaking, gripping me for support, Abby moved up and down at her own pace, fucking her good girl for the first time. It had been years since Mistress let me have sex uncaged, almost forgetting how amazing it felt to be inside someone. Usually that someone was me.

Barely able to speak, I tried to tell Abby to stop, that I couldn't hold it. But, seeing I was going to cum she gripped my cock tighter with her pussy, thrusting faster up and down. Feeling my mind shatter, a loud groan forced out of my painted lips, I came inside of her. Hard. One of the strongest orgasm of my life, I nearly fainted in tears as she rode me through my orgasm. In tears, cock endlessly cumming, Abby watched it all, enjoying every moment.

Feeling my release sated for now, she slid off my cock to my lips, feeding my orgasm back into me. Hungrily, I ate her pussy, tasting my own cum and her arousal. Those familiar moans above me as I licked and sucked, never looking away from those beautiful eyes. Staring down at me, inviting and eager, soon I found myself on top of her, Abby's hands guiding my cock once again inside of her wet, excited pussy.

Her turn to groan as I stretched into her, slowly sliding my cock as far as I could, legs wrapping around my back. Holding Abby in my arms, kissing her deeply, I read in her eyes what she wanted. What she needed. After the orgasm she rode out of me earlier, I was more than happy to oblige. Timid at first, enjoying her moans, I soon found myself thrusting, fucking this beautiful woman as hard as I could.

Adorable moans echoed off the walls as she pulled me into her, not giving me the option to move anywhere but in and out of her. One hand grasping the back of her neck, I moved my other to her clit, rubbing as I fucked hard, those captivating eyes holding me, encouraging me. Normally I stared up at Abby when making her cum, but today I got to see that beautiful face up close, as it whimpered and contorted with pleasure.

Her telltale little tensing, feeling her pussy pulse around my cock, Abby nearly screamed as she came, gently fucking her through her orgasm. Shaking, out of breath, unable to speak, I smiled as she recovered, kissing me hard while I continued to slowly spread her pussy with my cock, the sensation overwhelming. Giggling, hugging, kissing, moaning, and laughing, we simply enjoyed the moment.

Abby let me cum three more times that night, fucking in every position we could think of. Pushing into her from behind, against the wall, even back to riding my cock feeling more in charge. My favourite by far was when she placed me on the edge of the bed, pushing herself against me, as if it was her cock, fucking back and forth while she held my legs. Staring up at the dominant look, that confident smile, I didn't last long before I exploded.

Each orgasm found itself in my mouth, soothing her sore and well fucked pussy with my tongue, happily licking Abby clean. Exhausted, well into the middle of the night, we both collapsed in each others arms. Clit safely returned to its cage, a giggling Abby's hand quickly finding a handhold. Key back in her purse, she ran her finger up and down my body as she told me from time to time she'd borrow my key, at her discretion, and her need. After all, I was quite good with my tongue, she'd rarely feel the need for my cock.

I knew in a few weeks after nights between Abby's legs I'd be aching once more, desperately frustrated as Mistress' party sissy, clit straining underneath a pretty outfit. Yet, in Abby's arms, her gentle tiny hand on my clit, I welcomed it. I didn't care if Mistress never lent out the key again, melted it down, or simply let it rust. I just wanted this. I wanted to be a good girl.

I wanted to be hers.