Hour

be a good girl... don't disappoint your Mistress... she did all this for you...

Patrick nodded to no one in particular and turned toward the register, exhaling slowly when he saw the line that had formed. His arms laden with lingerie he shuffled along slowly, his eyes cast downward at the layers of silk and lace, his wrist still vibrating incessantly, the only break coming from the unmistakable buzz of texts being received. When he was finally called to the counter, he managed a weak smile at the young sales girl and gently laid his purchases on the polished surface. He tapped the timer on his watch, silencing it and dug into the pocket of his jacket for the gift card Charlotte had given him to make his purchases. She hadn't told him how much as on it, he mentally crossed his fingers as the number on the register slowly grew to over three hundred dollars. He handed it over meekly, a surge in his cock when the sales girl thanked him and called him "miss". The seconds ticked by as it processed, Patrick not breathing, and then exhaling slowly when it cleared. He took the bags from the counter, four in all when Lynnie re-appeared next to the girl at the register. She whispered something and the girl's eyes grew wide, and her hand shot to her mouth, stifling a laugh at Patrick's expense. He left, red faced, nervous to check the texts that no doubt held his punishment for missing his deadline.

"Missed your ride. Meet me at Brass Knuckle."

"You're glad you were late now. aren't you?"

"admit it. you're so hard, aren't you sissy?"...

"and you're only thinking about it"

"imagining what it'll feel like to have a thick, rigid, veiny, hot cock"

"deep in your sissy pussy"

Patrick turned toward the south entrance of the mall, descending the escalator once more, numb to the stares and laughter. He was in a dream state, wondering if he could actually do what Charlotte dared him to do. He walked out the south side entrance, his heel clicks on the concrete sidewalk momentarily drowned out by the traffic and noise of the loading zone. He turned to his right, a throng of teenagers enveloping him momentarily. Patrick stiffened, his bag laden arms pulled tight to his body. The night air felt cool on his stockinged legs, and he felt the gentle breeze under his coat, his tucked cock shrinking between his swollen balls. He passed the taxi stand, the drivers of the cities' electric cab company getting an eyeful of a leggy blond bimbo lost in thought. Patrick scanned their faces, each one more predatory than the last and he quickly decided to walk the dozen or so city blocks downtown to the Brass Knuckle, a lgbt bar in the entertainment district.

coward... probably could've flirted yourself into a free ride... especially if you rode in the front seat and gave him what he wanted... showed them what a wonderful little cocksucker you are... you didn't even hesitate last time...

Patrick's calves were burning and his mind was frazzled by the time he spied the glowing vertical sign of the bar. The smell of sandalwood and oranges wafted through the air as the hulking doorman pulled open the tinted glass door for him. He spied Charlotte and Thomas in a darkened booth at the back of the long bar, each grinning broadly as he turned away from them and climbed onto an empty stool at the worn wooden bar. The cold leather of the stool warmed quickly against his now uncovered ass, the short jacket riding up as he sat, his stockings and garters fully exposed to the evening patrons. A burly bartender sauntered over and Patrick forced a smile, ordering a Grey Goose martini, very wet. Again his cock surged in his panties, the word "miss" having an overpowering effect on him. He sipped his drink slowly, long eyelashes fluttering as he surveyed the other patrons, some engaged in conversation, others staring intently at their phones. A few made eye contact, but none returned the feeble smile that Patrick attempted. He knew he needed more liquid courage, so he downed the martini, and ordered another, uncrossing and crossing his legs in the opposite direction, now facing the full length of the bar.

breathe... that's it... open up your jacket a little more... it's warm in here... show off your pretty bra and panties... show everyone what a pretty sissy whore you are... good girl...

His third drink settled in his belly and Patrick was smiling easily, holding eye contact with every man that passed in his vision that gave him the once over. Charlotte had been sending him texts, telling him to flip his hair, or re-apply his lipgloss. She also made a point to tell him how sexy he looked and that Thomas couldn't stop talking about how soft his mouth was and how jealous he was of the guy that was going to take his sissy cherry. Patrick's cock was throbbing between his legs now and the crowd, once thin and quiet had grown increasingly cramped and boisterous, well dressed twinks, gym bunnies and jocks with a few wolves and bulls mixed in. Patrick moved to order yet another martini and nudged the arm of the man next to him, a few drops of his whisky hitting the bartop. Patrick squeaked a surprised apology, taken aback by the easy smile of the 30-ish man that towered over him.

oh... hello... don't look at his... too late... his smile... again... wow... you're subtle... introduce yourself...

Patrick extended his hand, introducing himself as Patricia, but telling him that her friends all called her Tish. The man's hand enveloped his, and he introduced himself as Erik, and complimented his choice of outfit, smirking as he said it was very subtle. Patrick laughed and tossed his hair, letting Erik keep a hold of her hand. He asked what Patrick was drinking then told him that was far too sophisticated for a slutty little sissy, and ordered him a Blue Hawaiian. Patrick thanked him, his breath catching in his throat when the man leaned down and whispered in his ear that he would be thanking him properly when he finished his drink. He continued on saying that any sissy that dressed like him was sure to be an eager cock-sucker. Patrick assured him that he was, no hint of embarrassment in his response. Patrick sipped his new drink slowly, not hesitating when Erik took his captured hand and placed it on the bulge in the front of his designer jeans. Patrick stroked him softly, the large man moving closer to Patrick as he grew thicker against his palm. Erik's hand fell to Patrick's shoulder and he beckoned to the bartender to watch their drinks. The bartender nodded, placing black coasters on the top of each, Erik no longer patient enough to wait for Patrick to finish. Erik spun him off the stool, leading Patrick through the crowd of people and to the bathrooms, passing a grinning Charlotte along the way.

you're so hard... and grinning like a silly bimbo... you dirty whore... you love this... are you... daydreaming... you are... such a cum slut...

Erik shoved Patrick into the first stall, not bothering to close the door behind him. He tugged on Patrick's knotted belt, pulling the smaller man to him, kissing him roughly on the mouth, his other hand holding Patrick's jaw painfully. Patrick melted into him, wrapping one stockinged leg around his calf, letting Erik's tongue invade his mouth. His hands found Erik's zipper, pulled it down, and dug his hand inside, stroking his cock over his dark cotton briefs. Patrick slowed when the larger man grunted and bucked, strengthening his grip on his jaw.

he's already... back off... let him control you... like Mistress showed you...

Erik pulled back, squeezing even harder, swearing at Patrick, calling him every humiliating word in the book, fueling Patrick's subservience. He agreed to all of it, sinking to his knees and peeling Erik's pants and underwear down after he unbuttoned them. A hand on the back of his head guided him forward and Patrick swept his tongue under Erik's swollen balls, moaning softly. The heavy flesh of the cock slapped across the back of his jaw, and rough knuckles scraped his cheek, Erik stroking himself lazily.

good girl... each one gets attention... he's so swollen... ahhh... yes... follow his instructions... match... his strokes...

. Erik jerked Patrick's head backward, stroking his unyielding cock, his eyes wild, staring fiercely at the cum slut dangling from his fist. He slapped Patrick's hand off his cock with a grunt, telling him to open wide, grabbing another fistful of Patrick's hair. Seconds later he was balls deep in Patrick's throat, Erik groaning happily as he fucked the sissy's painted face.

yes... let him fuck your face... good girl... you LOVE it... so hard in your pretty pink panties... gargle his cock... such a dirty slut... aren't you...

Patrick clung to Erik's thighs, sighing his consent to voice in his head, the sloshing sound in his mouth drowning out the surrounding traffic of men in and out of the bathroom. He gargled and mewled enthusiastically, saliva spilling down his chin and cheeks as Erik used his mouth and continued to insult him. Erik twitched suddenly, stiffening in Patrick's gaping mouth, a soft guttural moan escaping him as he climaxed without warning. Patrick extended his tongue as Erik withdrew, his face bathed in rope after thick heavy rope of warm cum.

Yessss... feels so... soo good... soo much... cummmmmmm... oh yesssss

Patrick cleaned the cum from Erik's cock when instructed, moaning blissfully as it filled his mouth waiting for Erik to tell him to swallow. Cum dripped from the corner of his mouth and Erik used the tip of his cock to clean that and the other streaks of cum from Patrick's face driving the sissy mad with lust. Erik finally permitted him to swallow, lightly slapping his cum soaked face, telling Patrick he didn't disappoint as a sissy cocksucker. Erik backed away, quickly pulling up his pants and disappearing from view, leaving Patrick on his knees, broad smears of cum on his face.

such a good girl... Mistress is becoming more and more right about you...

A shadow crossed the open doorway moments later and Patrick was jerked to his feet. His feet slipped on the tile floor as he was spun and his face pressed to the cold concrete bathroom wall. He gasped audibly when his panties were jerked below his ass, fingers desperately clawing at the chipping paint, the warm cock slipping into his sissy pussy with agonizing force. Patrick's thoughts ceased, Thomas pounding his ass for all he was worth, grunting and panting with ferocity. Patrick's eyes swept closed, his body shaking with every thrust, his cock swaying inside his sagging panties as they were painted with a torrent of his own cum. He rocked backward, his orgasm unrelenting as he slammed his ass into Thomas' hips, never wanting the feeling to end.

And there, just outside the creaking door of the stall, was Charlotte, smiling broadly, whispering to him.

I'll be back to pick you up in an hour... have fun!