My Day with Mistress Pt. 02

Several hours later, I wake to golden afternoon sunlight through the living room blinds, and a soft kiss on my ear. "Wakey wakey," you murmur. "It's time for an adventure."

I groan softly as I stretch out on the couch, taking stock of my body. The satin sheets you gave me feel cool and smooth against my skin. My jaw is still sore from being left overnight in the ball gag. My back hurts. Getting old sucks. But everything else feels okayish. You've left me much worse before.

Your hand drops to my crotch, caressing me softly. "C'mon, pet. I've got such a treat in mind for you tonight."

My cock stiffens under your touch.

"There's my boy," you say, removing your hand. My cock feels cold and lonely in its absence. "Let's go now. Up and at 'em."

I get up and put the couch cushions back in order and fold up the sheet. You've gone to the bedroom when I look up from my work. "Come in here when you're done," you call. There's an amusement in your voice that sends a prickle up my spine. You're up to something. Of course you're up to something.

When everything is straightened up I enter your bedroom, carrying the sheet. All the lights are on and your closet is thrown wide. You have six outfits laid out on the bed - mostly leather and latex, but there's one very pretty green dress with silver brocade that, on a second look, looks much too wide for you.

"Which should I wear, pet?" you ask. "Shall I model them for you?"

I look at the green dress a third time, understanding exactly what you have in mind. Which is *not* what I signed up for.

"Oh, do you like that one?" Your voice is light and teasing. "You have excellent taste. Put it on, *slave.*"

The sting in your final word leaves no room for disagreement.

Oh, well. As long as it's just the two of us, I can handle it. It will make you happy, and that's what's important. "Yes, Mistress."

I pick the dress up and awkwardly slide it over my head. It's made of something shimmery and slippery and feels cool against my skin as it slips down my body.

"Well don't you look *beautiful*," you coo as you circle around me. "Look at yourself in the mirror, pet."

I do not look beautiful. I look ridiculous. I'm balding, 5'10", with a small belly and entirely too much body hair, wearing a dress made for a short, fat woman. It comes up well above my knees and almost all of my hairy legs show. Another three inches and something else would show, too. Up top, the dress hangs around my chest, showing my gray chest hair.

"Of course, you could use a little freshening up. Would you like me to make you up, pet?"

"No, Mistress," I say hesitantly.

Your hand lashes out instantly, catching me on the cheek and rocking my head with the impact. "Try again, *slave.*"

My heart drops. "Please, Mistress."

"Please Mistress what, slave?"

*Please don't do this to me.* "Please make me pretty, Mistress."

You smile delightedly. "I thought you'd never ask, pet."

You sit me down on a chair far from a mirror and get to work. Powders, tubes of liquid, brushes... I can't identify half of it and you work so quickly that I can't hope to figure out what you're doing.

"Isn't this lovely, pet?" you ask as you work.

I don't say anything.It smells so... feminine. I hate it.

"You don't mean to say you're not enjoying it, do you?" Your hand slides under the hem of the dress and fastens on my balls. You squeeze lightly.

"Mistress..." I groan.

"Tell me you like it," you warn, squeezing tighter. "No." You squeeze so hard that tears come to the corners of my eyes. "Tell me you love it. And don't you dare cry. I won't have you ruining my masterpiece with your tears."

"I love it, Mistress," I moan.

"Excellent!" You release my balls immediately and kiss me on the top of my head. "Now, go look at yourself in the mirror. Tell me what a good job I did."

Rubbing my aching balls, I make my way to the bedroom mirror. I look... like a drunk clown tried to paint his own face on in the dark. Thick white face paint, unevenly applied, my three-day scruff poking through it. Ludicrous blue eye shadow ringing each eye. Bright spots of pink on the cheeks, misaligned. Red painted lips that spread far beyond the natural borders of my mouth, and not even evenly at that.

"Beautiful work, right?" you say excitedly. "I'm a natural."

I stare at myself in shock. I want to die. "We're staying home, right? You're just teasing me?"

You laugh delightedly. "Oh no, pet. I can't keep this masterpiece to myself. We're making a night of it! Stand there just a second." You disappear and return with the leather cuffs you locked me in last night. "Hands behind your back now."

Numbly I comply as you lock me up again.

"Can't have you trying to take it off after I worked so hard on you." You click a short leather lead to my collar and lead me back to your bed, where you hook me to a face-level loop fastened to the wood. "Stay here for me while I go get changed."

You ignore all of the dresses on the bed and instead change, right before me, into an ordinary black dress. The one you wore when we first met, actually. Very pretty, but not at all fetish. The kind of thing you'd wear to a restaurant on a date. Fuck.

"Let me just go touch up my own makeup," you tell me when you've changed. "I have to look every bit as delicious as my man for this crowd."

I stand there in the slippery green dress, securely fastened to the bedpost, as you disappear into the bathroom.

"Huh," you call out. "I'm horny again. Funny how having you tied up does that to me. Just a minute, pet..."

I hear the buzz of a vibrator and within a few minutes you're moaning happily to yourself while my cock fills and swells and starts to leak, my precum dripping on my bare feet. "God," you call out. "God this feels so good. I'll bet you wish you could see me now... sitting on the edge of the sink with my legs spread. You'd just drop to your knees and worship my pussy, wouldn't you." You moan again. "That would be lovely, wouldn't it, pet?"

My cock is tenting out the front of the slick green dress. I frantically swing my hips so that the tip teases against the fabric. It feels so good, but so insufficient. Fuck.

"I don't hear you, pet. You okay in there?" You moan a third time, loud and guttural. "Fuck, this feels *so* nice, pet. So good. Fuck. Almost there... almost... yes, yes..." You cry out in pleasure. "Ahhhhh... there we are. So nice."

Your bare feet slap against the floor. "Have to clean up a bit. *Then* I'll do my makeup. Bear with me, pet."

What are you going to do with me? Where are you going to take me? I can't be seen in public. I have a whole life at home. If someone sees me out with you, dressed... like this... If it's a fetish thing, at least everyone there will be in the same boat. But nothing you're wearing feels like a fetish thing. It feels like you're going to take me out to a restaurant.

You come in, beaming. Your makeup is flawless, your red lips glossy and so inviting. You look amazing. The kind of woman I'd love to take home to mom... if I wasn't already married.

"We can't go out, Mistress," I say. "Someone will see."

You laugh musically. "That's the point, slave. *Everyone* will see. I'm tired of being your secret."

Shit. "No, Mistress. Please"

"You aren't questioning me, are you?" You look up at me with daggers in your gaze. "Do you want to end this right now? Clean yourself up, get dressed, go back home to your boring, neglectful wife and never talk to me again? Never feel the way I make you feel?"

I should. I really should. This is stupid, and it's dangerous. Everything I've done with you has been a risk, but this is beyond the pale. This is... this is bad. But my eyes drop. "No, Mistress."

"I didn't think so. Now, I'm going to unclip you, and release your hands. You're going to be a perfect lady tonight for me, aren't you, pet? Because some part of you *wants this*. Or else you would have said yes when I offered to let you leave."

"No part of me wants this. But I don't want to give you up, Mistress."

"This is part of the game, pet." Your gaze softens. "It will be alright. Trust me."

I swallow hard. This will *not* be alright. "Yes, Mistress."

"Good boy." You reach up to muss my hair. "Now let's get going."