The New Role

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WFEATHER
WFEATHER
1,894 Followers

"Yes, Master." The gleam in my submissive wife's eyes confirmed that she had been hoping I would confine her in the stocks. "Where would You like for me to place the stocks, Sir?"

"Underneath the spotlight, please." I sat in a leather-covered recliner as I watched her roll the heavy oak contraption across the room, then engage the six parking brakes. she was breathing somewhat heavily from her effort. she still wore her black V-neck knee-length dress with sequined bodice, matching demi-jacket, and beaded black heels; at the restaurant, no one but U/us knew that her legs were covered with black stockings held up by a black garter belt, and definitely no one but U/us knew that she wore no panties - having been ordered to remove them and leave them in the glove box before W/we had arrived at the restaurant. Only if people had looked very closely would they have known for certain that she wore a thin lacy black bra.

The beauty and elegance of My loving slave contrasted nicely with her labored breathing. I admired the contrast momentarily before finally rising and approaching her. "It is time," I informed her.

"Yes, Master," she replied, still somewhat breathy.

With a bit of effort, I lifted the top of the stocks, swinging it on its solid hinges. A close friend with a few slaves of Her own had provided upholstered padding for the three pairs of semi-holes, for which My wife was quite thankful during some of O/our longer sessions using the stocks. Once she was in position, I finally closed the top over her neck and wrists, securing the fit with the heavy bolt.

I walked around her once, admiring how her hair cascaded to obscure her face, noting the newly-polished red fingernails. she was bent almost exactly ninety degrees at the waist, providing the perfect height to service Me if I so chose - as I had so chosen on more than a few occasions in the past.

I knelt before the willing captive, parting her hair to look directly into her eyes. "This is the final step," I told her softly. "What do you think this will entail?"

she thought for a moment. "You will beat me, Sir." Not a question, a statement - a statement given with absolute certainty.

"How many times?"

she thought again. "Fifty, Master, with Your leather belt."

I smiled, but shook My head. "Guess again."

"One hundred times with the oak paddle with the heart cut-out at the center, Sir."

I smiled and shook My head again. "you're getting colder."

she thought again. "Since i am not wearing any panties, Sir, do You plan to tease me for several hours?" A question - meaning that she was no longer certain what I had planned for her.

"I have considered that," I admitted, "but not tonight, slave."

she offered perhaps a half-dozen other ideas, but each one was rejected.

"you shall see, little one," I finally said as I stood. "you shall see."

Walking to the near wall, I turned on the spotlight. Even from its height well above her, I knew that My slave would quickly begin to warm from its heat. To let this sensation sink deep into her muscles, I removed and set aside My suitcoat, then slowly circled the room, waving My hand before each candle to extinguish its flame. By the time I had extinguished the final candle and picked up the one tool I would need, she was visibly sweating, and fidgeting in the stocks.

I made My way behind her, and knelt. Carefully, I helped her out of her heels, setting them aside. Reaching up between her spread legs, up underneath her dress, I briefly touched her, causing her to whimper softly and finding moisture of a very different kind emanating from within her.

"I could listen to those sounds all night long," I said softly, "but that is not My plan for you tonight. But you will almost certainly wish that it had been My plan."

Taking the tool with Me, I left the playroom momentarily, returning with a glass of ice water. I knelt before My captive wife, drinking slowly as she watched through her many strands of hair, adding a psychological torture to her physical discomfort.

Standing again, I walked to a small table and set the glass down, then returned to stand behind the sweating woman. Retrieving the tool from My back pocket, I knelt behind her again. This time, I lifted her dress, laying the skirt of the garment upon her lower back, exposing her charms to My gaze as she stiffened momentarily in anticipation. Feeling Myself begin to sweat underneath the heat of the spotlight, I stood and stepped back, into the shadows, waiting for My body to cool itself naturally, admiring the lewd view before Me.

At last, I moved back into position behind her, and pressed the blades of My tool - EMT scissors - against her left thigh. she stiffened again, knowing metal was pressed against her skin but apparently uncertain as to what was the source of the metal. As I began to sweat again, I stepped back into the shadows once more.

Eventually, I returned to her. Deftly, I cut the top of her right stocking, working My way down to her foot, and removed the decimated item. Sweating again, I stepped back into the shadows.

The process repeated, garment by garment, working slowly. When I was finally finished, she was sobbing uncontrollably.

I had just destroyed one of her favorite dresses.

As My wife cried softly, I strolled around the chamber, once again lighting the candles; once they were all aflame, I turned off the spotlight, then went into the "public" part of the basement for a few supplies. When I returned with a bucket of water and a sponge, I gave her a sponge bath, helping to cool her slowly as her tears finally subsided.

"Congratulations," I said softly. "The cat costume is now yours."

"Thank You, Master," she replied quietly, her voice still wavering. "Thank You, Master."

The Sunday afternoon before Halloween has traditionally been the designated time for the area's Trick-or-treating, and this year was no different.

That morning, following a late breakfast, I ordered My worthy slave to relax in a hot bubble bath. When she finally emerged and stepped nude into the bedroom, she smelled sweetly of oranges. I watched with a smile as she stood at the full-length mirror on the back of the bedroom door, brushing her wet hair. At last, she returned to the bed and slowly put on the black thong I had set out for her.

I held out My hand to her, and she came to the chair where I sat. Gently, I suckled a nipple, caressing her as she cradled My head in her hands. After relaxing her with this gentle treatment, I painfully crushed a nipple with my teeth, causing her fingers to curl in My hair as she tried - unsuccessfully - to squelch a yelp. I released her and gave her an evil grin, then sent her down to the basement playroom.

When I arrived a few minutes later, My slave stood at the full-length mirror, inspecting her tortured bud. I went to the coils of rope along one wall and called her to Me, then proceeded to construct torso bondage on her, making sure the crotch rope was quite tight against her with a double-knot pressing directly against her clitoris.

"Crawl," I then instructed, watching as the obedient slave dropped to her hands and knees, gasping softly as her movement caused the crotch rope to slide against her. "I will meet you back in the bedroom."

By the time she arrived, I had the cat costume awaiting her on the bed. I ordered her to stand, and as soon as she saw it, she fawned. It was clear that she could not decide whether to touch the costume or crush Me with a bear hug, but after a short hesitation, she opted for the latter first.

Once the costume was on, she could not keep her hands off it, and for good reason. While the manager at the costume store had assured Me that the "fur" of the costume were 100% synthetic, I Myself had a hard time believing her claim, as stroking the costume felt almost exactly the same as stroking a real live cat. The manager had been able to make a few minor adjustments to the costume, so it fit extremely snugly to My wife's form, yet it still hid the confining ropes quite due to the thick "fur."

"you look like a black cat," I praised her, "only with a human face and just barely five feet tall."

she laughed at that, admiring herself in the door-mounted mirror. her breasts were less evident, but evident nonetheless; I took advantage of the moment to step up behind her (with her thick tail slightly in the way) and cup the twin protrusions, watching her reflection in the mirror as she closed her eyes and gave in to My touch.

"All you need now is the make-up, then I will help you into the paws." she nodded, and I sat on the bed, waiting as she returned to the bathroom to apply make-up. When she returned, she had a blackened nose, thin black whiskers, slightly-rosy cheeks, and the barest hint of gloss upon her lips.

she looked delicious.

"Come here, pussy."

she gave a soft mew, sounding very much like a young kitten, as she dropped to her hands and knees and crawled the short distance to Me. In turn, she lifted each hand to My lap so I could apply each paw, a nicely-designed "glove" which would be a bit heavy in weight on the back of the hand as the paw extended out over her fingers; yet underneath the paw itself were thin black gloves, thus allowing her to have full use of her hands.

Just perfect for giving candy to the children.

"Now, here are your instructions for the afternoon," I told her as I stood, looking down upon her, admiring her love-filled eyes. "you will only speak Cat for the afternoon, and you will act like a cat as well. The only exception to the latter is that you will answer the door, give away candy, and close the door as necessary. Is that understood, pussy?"

she nodded and meowed her assent.

"If pussy does as instructed, pussy will be eaten tonight."

she nodded vigorously, her eyes sparkling.

"And, as a special bonus, she will be taken for a walk on Halloween night."

her mew had a questioning tone as she cocked her head at Me, but I simply turned and walked away. "It's time. Come, pussy."

Halloween night, I pulled into an empty space in the south parking lot of the city's main park. My slave was again wearing the cat costume, again in torso bondage, but this time wearing a bra with a piece of sandpaper in each cup, and with a remote-controlled vibrating egg buried within her and buzzing gently. On the outside of her costume, she wore a harness, to which I attached a leach at the center of her back before I allowed her to exit the car and drop to her hands and knees on the pavement. This time, she also wore a thin red collar with a bell at the front, purposely to call more attention to her.

I had somewhat suspected that she would feel "on display" like this - if she did, it obviously did not bother her. By city tradition, tonight was a night to see and be seen, and certainly there was a lot to see.

Many people had gone to great lengths with their costumes as they strolled aimlessly through the park. A tall teenage girl had "borrowed" My slave's original idea and made a costume of the transformed Jubei, one which caused My feline slave to pause and look with envy in her eyes. A pair of men walked by looking and sounding almost exactly like Al Michaels and John Madden, which certainly caught My attention at just how well these two had adopted the sportscasters' mannerisms.

But without question, everyone gave My feline slave several looks, and many commented as they passed U/us. "I've seen people walk cats before," one woman commented aloud to her equally-surprised friend, "but never have I seen people walk people before!" I simply laughed softly while pussy gave a soft mew and plodded along the sidewalk.

Perhaps an hour later, knowing that the combination of the crotch rope, the sandpaper, and the vibrating egg must be taking their toll on her, I led the oversized feline back to the car. she probably assumed that I was about to take her back home, but I instead went to the trunk and retrieved a pet bowl, then led her to the nearby picnic pavilion. I filled the bowl from one of the faucets in the side of the building, then set the bowl down on the cement floor, in plain view of a heavily-trafficked walking trail. For the first time of the evening, she looked up at Me with questioning eyes and a mew of uncertainty, but I simply gestured to the bowl, and she resigned herself to the public degradation.

"Well, I never!" someone commented as My feline slave slowly lapped at the water with her tongue. I sat at a picnic table and stroked her "fur," smiling at My brave slave. she must have lapped at the water for a full five minutes before she finally lifted her head to look at Me, her face red with embarrassment and her eyes pleading for mercy.

"Let's go, pussy," I whispered softly, and she mewed quietly as she nodded slowly.

Still harnessed, I tossed the rest of the water onto the grass, then walked the feline back to the car. For the first time in over an hour, she was permitted to stand so I could remove the leash and help her into the car. As she waited, I put the bowl away in the trunk, and produced a bottle of water from the cooler. Once in the car, I gave her the cool drink, which she chugged gratefully as I drove U/us home in silence.

That night, as W/we lay in bed, spooning with Me inside her, I held her tightly. "you did very, very, very well today, little one."

"Thank You, Master," came her quiet reply. "Do You think W/we can do this again, Master, for next Halloween?"

I thrust gently into her in response. she gave a mew of assent.

"Does this mean I should call you 'pussy' from now on?" I chided.

"Please, Sir, yes!"

"Then so it shall be... pussy."

she mewed again in assent, obviously enjoying the new role.

WFEATHER
WFEATHER
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2 Comments
Moxon4Moxon4about 18 years ago
Good job

Great story, loved the concept of having her earn the costume, would have liked to have seen them play in it more, but a very good story

MaxiJMaxiJover 19 years ago
very interesting story

Pretty confusing at times when you switch from day to day... maybe if you had labeled the different days it wouldn't have been so.

But i did like how she had to finish all the 'tests' in order to wear the costume. I enjoy all your stories and highly recommend everyone to bookmark this author... Jane

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