That's why threats are so powerful, you know. They let you fill in the gaps, let your imagination run wild in all the most wonderful ways. We love to imagine things, whether it be imagining what punishments might be coming, imagining what the creature in the monster movie really is, or imagining how happy we could be with that one perfect partner.
The imagination is a wonderful thing. I hope this gets your going in fun directions.
Party Preparations
“You know what it will take to get
out of the cage.” Misty said. She gestured at the pile on the
floor. “So go on,” she said. “Get started.”
She settled into a chair, ran her
hands down the smooth latex of her dress, and crossed her legs. She
laced her fingers together at her knees, and smiled in his direction.
He sighed. He stood up, stooped over
inside the cage, and picked up stockings and the garter belt. He
strapped the belt around his waist, then started rolling the
stockings slowly up his legs.
Misty felt the smile spreading as the
nylon covered his hairless leg. She felt her lips spread and her
teeth start to show when he hooked the nylon to the garter belt with
practiced expertise. He looked up at her then, and at the sight of
her smile, he blushed deeply. He returned his own smile, glancing at
her twice, each time turning his eyes downcast again. After the third
glance up and the third time looking back down, his skin flushed a
deeper crimson, and he pulled a pair of panties up over the device
that held his cock back between his legs. He looked a bit
uncomfortable; probably straining against the device, trying to have
an erection.
“How long has it been?” Misty
asked. She ran one hand down the line of her knee high leather boot,
knowing he couldn't help but watch. “How long has it been since you
last had an erection?”
“More than a month,” he said, his
voice weak.
“How much more?”
He cleared his throat. “Fifty one
days,” he said.
Misty laughed. He blushed deeply
enough that she was pretty sure there wasn't enough blood left for an
erection even if she did let him have one. She gestured for him to
get back to work, and he turned back to the pile of clothing.
The bra, complete with breast forms,
came next. Lifting them up, he reached into the base of the breasts
and pulled out the clips, stretching them out of the breast forms.
Then he took a deep breath and clipped them, one by one, onto his
nipples. He twisted the screws to tighten them enough to stay on,
biting his lips with tears in his eyes, before letting go and letting
the clip snap back inside the breast form, pulling the breasts firmly
on to his chest. He was still gasping for breath as he hooked the bra
behind his back.
He picked up the blouse somewhat
gingerly, sliding his arms in without stretching the skin under his
bra. He buttoned up the blouse, still breathing heavily, his new
breasts heaving just enough to make Misty chuckle at his expense.
When he bent down to pull on the
skirt, he made another gasp as gravity fully took hold of his
breasts. They were heavier than they needed to be.
“It's almost as if someone put
weights in it,” she said. He glanced at her with a mixture of
anguish and anger. She laughed. “I'm not sorry.”
He grunted as he pulled on the skirt,
then buckled the extra wide belt around the top. He didn't tuck in
the blouse.
He tried to slip his feet into the
heels without bending over. Once he was up and having to balance on
his toes, he had to bend down to strap them around his ankle. He ran
the strap through the buckle, then snapped the tiny lock together
before standing up as straight as he could in the confines of the
cage.
Misty smiled.
“Collar too,” she said. “Then
I'll let you out.”
He bent down again, wincing and trying
to balance at the weird angle. The heavy leather strap went around
his neck, the ring dangling in the front, a bigger pad lock on the
back closing with a definitive snick! sound.
Misty stood up and unlocked the cage,
giving him a hand to help him step over the lip. He stretched
carefully, hands at the small of his back.
She held out a mask, letting it dangle
from her outstretched hand. He took a swaying step towards her and
took it, settling it delicately onto his head, feeling the blunted
hooks take their positions on his bare scalp. Once they were in
place, he pulled the laces tight, lashing the leather against his
face like a second skin. He ran his fingers through the long hair
coming out of the top of the mask, smoothing it down and letting it
lay against his back.
She smiled at him. “Give it a try
and see if it works,” she said.
He reached up and grabbed the hair,
gave it a good pull. The little hooks underneath dug little dimples
into his skin, enough to hurt and enough to pull him with the hair,
but not enough to pierce flesh. He let go and nodded at her.
“Excellent,” she said. “Now we
just need to put on your gloves, and we'll be ready to go out.”
He opened his mouth to object, but the
glare from Misty shut him right up. He turned and stepped with a
swaying sashay to the table where the gloves were waiting. He pushed
into fingers into the glove, sliding them over his hands. The fingers
were tightly laced together, the thumbs tight against the side of his
palms. Once the first one was on his hand and pulled up his arm, he
buckled it in place at the wrist, forearm, and elbow. He used his
teeth to help get the other glove on. He pulled it as far up his arm
as he could get it, but needed help buckling it. Misty helped him,
then stood and looked him up and down.
“Stunning,” she said. She ran her
hand along the leather of his face, then threaded her finger through
the hook in his collar and turned towards the door. He stumbled after
her with the practiced skill of someone who was used to walking in
five inch heels.
She laughed at him. “Those really do
make your legs look amazing,” she said.
“Thank you mistress,” he said. His
voice was still too deep.
She stopped at the door way and pulled
the leash of the hook on the wall. She turned and hooked it to his
collar, having to crane back her head to be able to look down on him.
“The voice gives you away,” she said.
“Sorry mistress.”
“It's more than that, though.” She
tapped a finger against her teeth and looked him up and down. “I
think it's the curves too. Wait here.” She handed him the leash,
which he laid over his hand, gripping it as best as the sewn together
gloves would allow him.
She stalked across the room and came
back with a waist cincher.
“Raise your arms,” she said,
smirking as he winced as his breasts bounced a bit. She laid it in
place, tightening the straps around him. His breath blasted out, and
she tightened them a bit more. “Relax,” she said, pulling tighter
and forcing his body into a nice hourglass shape.
His posture locked a bit more
straight, his body curved in a more feminine shape, she looked up him
and down again. “You really are a very pretty girl,” she said.
“Thank you mistress,” he said.
Misty shook his head. “There you go
ruining it again by talking,” she said. “No one is going to
believe you really are a girl if you talk.”
“I'm sorry mistress.” His voice
was a little bit higher; he was trying. A little bit more effort and
he might even sound feminine. But Misty had no intention of telling
him that.
“I suppose I could gag you,” she
said. “Turn around.”
He turned, and she took his wrists,
cuffing them behind his back. She made sure they had a little bit of
give, not so tight that they would damage his nerves or the bones in
his wrists, but not so loose that he could pull them off. Then she
turned the key and locked them into place.
“Mistress?” eh asked, his voice
even more feminine. “Those are handcuffs.”
She patted him on the head in the most
condescending tone she could manage. “Very good,” she said. “I'm
glad you can tell the difference. See? Pretty doesn't have to mean
stupid.”
He chuckled. “Thank you mistress.”
“Still, we do need a gag.” She
reached into her purse and started rooting around. “What kind of
gag, though? A ball gag would make it so you couldn't talk. But then
your mouth would be all closed off. I want your mouth nice and
available. After all, what if I decide I want you to start sucking
cocks tonight?”
He coughed, and his eyes went wide.
“And there's no reason you should
have to see it, I suppose.” She pulled out a leather piece that
buckled onto the mask and covered his eyes, dropping him into
complete darkness. “Still, not a ball gag. Same problem with a bit
gag.” She took a breath and turned back to her purse. “I could
put a nice inflatable gag in your mouth. Then you'd feel like you
were sucking cock all night either way. Wouldn't that be nice?”
“Please, mistress.”
“Okay, so not that. Not a gag down
your throat. Not a ball gag. Not something holding your mouth too
wide, or it might hurt your jaw. I've got it!” She smiled, even
though he couldn't see her. “Open your mouth.”
He was obedient, and she placed the
ring into his mouth, just behind his teeth. She buckled the strap
behind his head, then stepped back and took a good look at him.
“Perfect,” she said. “A nice ring gag will keep your mouth open
for cocks or for strap ons, the blindfold will make you unable to
know which is coming, and no one at the party will know whether or
not you were born a woman.”
She chuckled. “Isn't that
wonderful?”
He mumbled something that vaguely
sounded affirmative. And frightened.
Misty smiled.
“Now be careful as we walk,” she
said, taking his leash and wrapping it around her hand. “It's hard
to balance with your hands cuffed like that.”
And she opened the door and started
walking out to the car, pulling him behind her on the way to the car.
I love this piece, so inventive, completely immersing you in the moment.
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