Silk House Pt. 02

Enjoying his own quickness, Toby takes the sides of the suit while I lay there and forces them up in another pseudo-wedgie. The action shocks me, exhilarates me, and while I'm still recovering, he forces the sleeveless holes over my arms. He reaches around to pull the short zipper up instead of flipping me, and now I boast a faux-turtleneck collar, gasping in shock. I grab my neck to feel what he's done, and while I know I feel "locked in," I'm not yet so.

"You know what to do," Doherty says ominously, and while I stare at the ceiling, only able to focus on the sensation of my skin, the euphoria of the many layers, Toby grabs a thick black leather collar and wraps it around my neck, forcing my hands away. It clicks into place, and now I'm truly stuck. I grab at it and pull for good measure; no luck. I even reach around the back to see if I can undo it, but to my mix of horror and sexual delight, there's a key hole. It's locked

"I'm—" I start.

"Yes," Doherty says, and now he stands up, walking to the edge of the square and looking very satisfied. Toby stands up all the way and looks down at me as well. He knew this would happen, I can tell just by his face! That short little chat they were having while I was perusing the racks, the one I couldn't hear, was a devious time for planning. "There is just two last things, though, and this is for my own personal pleasure." Telling me this, he steps over to the racks and slips his hand between two hangers, to a switch on the wall that neither of us knew was there. He flicks it, and then the matte gray ceiling panel slides away with a low mechanical noise. In its place now, the ceiling reveals a mirror. Toby looks in awe but isn't surprised. My body—the subtle feminine pieces have manipulated my body just enough to look androgynous, my cock and bells pressed flat against me and virtually nonexistent, my hips subtly exaggerated.

"And the second?" Toby asks, but I'm sure he knows. I look over to see Doherty peruse a long line of shoes—heels!—underneath the rack that I didn't care to glance at. He picks up a particular pair—shiny black pumps with a single leather strap—and walks over to me, steps at my feet.

"Hold his arms," he says, and while I'm still extremely turned on to an overwhelming degree, I'm not sure I like what he's doing. Toby does what Doherty asks while I try and fail to get up, the silky, slippery floor my downfall. Doherty takes my left foot and slips the shoe on. "I was right! Perfect size," he says with a grin. Then, to my horror, there's a click. The strap! I look down at my outstretched leg to see a miniature deadbolt dangling on it. I struggle against Toby, but he steps over my body and leans his hungry cock over my face. I chin it away with my jaw in semi-mock protest. Doherty locks on the other shoe while I'm distracted.

Then I'm let go. They both back off and I gasp in response, watching my leg fall to the mattress through the mirror. I'm trapped, essentially a slave like this, and Toby is aggressively stroking his cock. Doherty, ever the voyeur, has his arms crossed, all his clothes on, and bears a dirty grin. Every part of my body is hungry, desperate for both sensation and a means of escape, but I can only do one. So I grab at myself, stroking every part of my body that I can, deep in a state of euphoria and some panic. I touch my missing cock, but luckily still find pleasure in desperately rubbing the heel of my hand against the area.

"He's yours, you know," Doherty says casual.

"Until tomorrow, right?"

"Until tomorrow."

"God, I do love a little revenge," Toby laughs, and satisfied with the transaction, Doherty walks to the stairs and leaves us be. Toby jumps on me, feeling up my firm, slinky chest, then his hands slide down my sides. Unexpectedly he cups my crotch and aggressively shakes it, in a way that has me moaning louder than I'd like. "You're my pretty little thing for a little while, Charlie," he says. "It's only karma, leaving me like that in the bed last night."

I whimper, realizing my comeuppance, and Toby grins. He takes my body and turns me over, and suddenly I have a sensation I've yet to experience: true frottage against sheets. With too much ease given the slippery floor, he takes me by the hips and moves my whole body forward and back, giving me rein to stretch my arms above my head in luxury. Then he stops, places his cock just below my butt, right in between the top of my thighs. The swimsuit has already pulled everything up tight, creating a perfect, slick wedge for him to slide into, and he does so greedily, pumping in an out for everything he's worth, the both of us bouncing subtly on the mattress.

"You want this? You need this?" he asks with a gruff, demanding voice, but I'm all sputters and speechless moans, a slave to sensation.

A bizarre night became something else: a surreal weekend. Roommate to lover to master, all in a matter of hours. His hands slide up my back and grip my shoulders, and I think he's arching his back because his cock penetrates deeper into the tight space between my legs. His moan becomes a staggered, euphoric noise, and the sheets beneath us becomes sticky with his hot cum.

We're two bodies breathing heavily in the aftermath, the sensations unparalleled, my desire to please him sated for now but not forever. After a minute of recover, Toby gets off my back and stands up, and I finally get enough control over my body to roll over, sit up. I even stand, and Toby offers his hand for balance as I step off the bed in heels.

"Was that fun for you too?" he asks simply after a beat of conciliatory silence. I nod, still breathless, but gesture uselessly at my shackles in dissent. He laughs.

"Welp, you have a good twenty hours before you're freed from that outfit of yours, given you didn't help me out of mine 'til around noon today," he explains, and it takes me a second to truly grasp the meaning of his words. I couldn't believe it was only the afternoon still, this transformation of mine all happening in a whir. "And I wouldn't want to keep you in ecstasy all day, now would I?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm going back home for the night."

"What?" I yell.

"Relax, dude! You won't be here forever. I'll tell the guys some excuse for why you're not there."

"You're ridiculous. You can't do that," I protest.

"But I can, and Doherty is more than happy to keep you company and help you for when, you need to... you know," he gestures at my lower half vaguely. If I could see my balled-up fists underneath this suit, my knuckles would be white.

"And what, do you think, he'd have me do?" I ask through gritted teeth. Toby chuckles and crosses his arms, unconsciously mimicking Mr. Doherty's authoritative stance. It seemed the older man was deliberately grooming us to fulfill these dominant and submissive roles, and quite successfully. In the back of my mind, despite my frustrations, the whole turn of events turned me on beyond comprehension. The continuing sensations of the many spandex layers against my body was only emphasizing this feeling. Toby ruminated on my question still.

"Maybe he'll want you to take care of his cats."

God damned Toby!