Vicious Beach: Perfect Choice

by Frozen

 

"What are you doing back there?" the tall, dark haired woman called to him as he cowered, naked and embarrassed, behind one of the gnarled rocks that dotted the slowly darkening beach of Etanimod Cove. He hoped that she had not seen him, but it was obvious she had, and now she was calling to him again, her voice closer this time.

"You do know this is private property?" she yelled, a sly grin on her face, knowing it was a lie. She had seen him, watched him rather, as he stripped off his shorts behind the very rock he was now hiding behind, and dive into the ocean as he had at this time every day since Tuesday. She had hidden, obscured from his view, in a crack in the cliff, no more than ten feet away, holding her breath as he bent over in front of her, pulling his dark red swim trunks down his long tanned thighs, completely oblivious to his audience.

"I...I...uh..." he stammered trying in vain to melt into the rock as he heard her footsteps circling around the rock.

"What do you think the owners will do to you when they find you down here on their beach....."

"Don't come any closer!!!" he screamed, mortified at his utter helplessness.

"What's the problem?" the woman said sarcastically, "What are you, naked or something?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." he said. "And I would appreciate it you left me alone."

"What happened to your clothes?" she asked innocently. She knew full well where his clothes were. They were right where she left them, in a crumpled, tattered heap in the bottom of a Wanhismo Beach garbage can.

"If I knew that," he said angrily, "I wouldn't be in this fucking situation, would I?"

"You know, for someone who's completely helpless, you're pretty rude..." she said turning to walk away. "I was going to offer you some help but if you're going to be an asshole you can forget it."

He was silent for a moment, cursing under his breath. "Wait!" he called after her. "What's your name?"

"What's yours?" she shot back, turning around slowly, another smile forming on her lips.

"Um Troy..."

"Well Um Troy, I hope you enjoy spending the night alone here on the beach cause I'm headed home. See Ya."

"No wait. Please. Please help me." he begged.

"First come out from behind that rock, then...I want an apology." She stared at the edge of the rock waiting patiently, knowing that his humiliation would be unbearable.

When he finally emerged Troy was shocked to see how beautiful the woman was who stared back at him. Tall and shapely with dark, shoulder length hair streaked with blond, she was dressed in a pair of fitted denim shorts cut high on her long tan thighs, and a grey Tommy Girl baby tee that perfectly framed her voluptuous breasts. Pools of emerald green flecked with luminous blue flashes, her eyes seemed to sparkle in the rapidly descending dusk. They were the type of eyes that could see through to your soul. He suddenly felt very weak, staggered by her extraordinary perfection. He quickly cast his eyes downward, unable to look at her exquisite face.

"Well..." She said folding her arms under her breasts, "I'm waiting."

"Please lady," Troy pleaded, "I just want to get the hell out of here."

She walked towards him, looking him up and down pleased that he couldn't meet her gaze. When she was close enough she reached out and stroked his cheek lifting his chin. "Look at me when you speak to me Troy."

He nodded slowly, a quiet murmur of understanding escaping his throat .

"Good. Now tell me you're sorry for being an asshole."

"I'm sorry for being an asshole." he said quickly.

"That's better...Now do want my help or not?"

"Yes, yes please...this is so fucking embarrassing."

"I can imagine, but if you swear again, I'm going to leave. Understood?"

"Ok, sure...whatever you say, just please help me."

She stepped back taking her hand away from his face, his sarcasm intolerable.

"That's it. I'm outta here. I wonder what the beach patrol will have to say when they see your pretty little ass."

"B...Beach Patrol?!" Troy shrieked.

"Yeah you stupid idiot, Beach Patrol. I imagine they'll be along within the hour to pick you up, or..." she paused, a wicked smile crossing her lips, "you can get on your knees and beg me to help you. Your choice."

"You're not serious?!"

"What do you think?"

Troy dropped to his knees wordlessly, still cupping his hands over his naked genitals, pleading with her, "Please...don't leave me..."

"Are you going to cooperate?"

"Yes..."

"Do you promise to do exactly as I say, without hesitation?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Prove it. Put your hands to your sides."

"OK." Troy let his hands fall away, exposing his crotch to her.

Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze dropped between his legs. He was growing steadily, his penis bouncing gently in the cool night air, and try as she might to control herself, she could feel the corners of her mouth curling upward in a mischievous grin.

"Well, well. It seems as if you like kneeling at a woman's feet," she said teasingly.

"I'm sorry...I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Well sweetie I don't think it's wrong to get turned on when you're being dominated."

"What?"

"Inappropriate to do without permission, sure, but not wrong."

"What are you talking about?"

Ignoring him she unbuttoned her cut-offs and pulled down the zipper revealing the bright yellow string bikini underneath. "Do you like it Troy?" she asked coyly.

"Of course..." he said, nodding eagerly.

"I'm glad," she said, slowly untying one of the bows at her hips, "because you're going to have to wear it."

"What?!" Troy shrieked.

"You heard me. You're going to wear my bikini."

"No. No way..." Troy couldn't believe she would suggest such a thing, but judging by her unwavering stare it wasn't a request, it was an order.

"What would you like to wear then genius?" she asked. "You can't very well walk around the streets of the Cove naked...how far away from here is your house?

Troy was silent for a moment and then said softly, "A couple of blocks...on Fourth Ave."

"Well I guess you can't wear my bikini past all those people," she said, shaking her head thoughtfully, "I'll tell you what, we can walk to my house from here, it's right off the beach about a half mile up the coast, how's that sound?"

"Great." Troy said obviously relieved, then asked, "Do I still have to wear the bikini?"

"You've got to wear something..." she said, "and I'm afraid my shorts just won't fit you."

"Oh..." Troy resigned himself to the humiliation of wearing her bikini bottom, telling himself that it would only be for a short time and he would never speak of it to anyone. He stretched out his hand to her and to his surprise she took it in hers and pulled him to his feet. Her strength surprised him, and he suddenly felt very worried that he had made the wrong decision. He tried to pull away from her but she held his hand firmly in hers, smiling disarmingly, glancing down at his partially erect penis. He moved to cover himself but she quickly grabbed his wrist, restraining him quite easily, watching as it grew steadily under her gaze.

"What's wrong Troy?" she asked, teasing him, "embarrassed?"

"What do you think lady?" he replied angrily, trying in vain to pull away from her.

"I think," she said slowly, "that despite your protests, you like being told what to do."

"What do you mea.."

"I think," she continued, "that if you were truly honest, you would admit that part of you needs a woman like me. An intelligent, attractive woman who can see past your facade and sees you for the weak, submissive little ...bitch... that you are."

"No..." he said, his voice shaking noticeably.

"You're lying Troy..." she said, shooting a quick look at his crotch. His penis stood at rapt attention, it's full seven and a half inches bobbing slightly as it throbbed. "You're lying," she repeated looking deep into his shimmering blue eyes, "and the sooner you stop lying the sooner you can experience the pleasure you always desired but were too afraid to feel."

"What...what do you mean?" Troy asked, utterly confused by his conflicting emotions. Unable to break her gaze, his body ached with arousal, revealing desires he could not explain. Yet part of him remained apprehensive, fearing the submission that lurked within.

"You know exactly what I mean..." she said, watching carefully as he struggled with the thoughts in his head, "...bitch."

"Why do you keep calling me th...?"

"Shhh." She said softly, pressing a finger to his lips, silencing him.

Troy let his arm fall limply to his side, knowing it was futile to try to cover his erection. His heart pounded inside his chest, and when she placed her hand above it he felt as if it would jump out of his body.

"Are you afraid of me Troy?" she asked.

"Yes..." he breathed.

"Why Troy, why are you afraid of me?"

"Because I don't want you to hurt me."

"I won't hurt you Troy." she said softly, "unless you make me."

Troy remained silent, wanting to run but unable to move, just staring as his captor turned away from. He drank in the wonder of her statuesque body as she nudged down her shorts, catching a brief glimpse of her well toned buttocks, before she pulled them back up and turned around her tiny bikini bottoms in her hand. Troy reached for them but she pushed his outstretched hand aside.

"Turn around Troy," she instructed, "and put your palms on the boulder. As high as you can."

Troy wheeled around obediently, and raised his arms until they were above his head. Seconds later he felt her nudging at his ankles with her feet, coaxing his legs apart, spreading his thighs further and further leaving his scrotum hanging in the steadily blowing coastal breezes. He took a deep breath as he felt her slide the fabric between his legs, her touch sending tiny jolts of pleasure over his skin. He was sure he felt her fingers linger on his penis as she tucked him inside her bikini bottoms and as she tied the second knot on his hips he felt her hand gently caress the naked flesh of his scantily clad ass. The sweet scent of her perfume wafted up to his nostrils, the fragrance warm and inviting.

A well aimed slap on his left buttock startled him and he spun around clumsily, shocked and slightly intimidated by her unprovoked assault.

"What was that for?!"

"That sweetie," she said, jabbing him painfully in the chest, "was to make sure you know who's in charge, got it?"

"Yeah...I got it." Troy said, taking a step backward to keep from falling over.

"Good." She pulled her t-shirt up over her head fully conscious of Troy's quick glimpse at her revealing bikini top. "Now put this on and stop staring at my chest."

Ridiculously small on him, the t-shirt clung to his torso, the Tommy Girl logo stretched to it's maximum cross his chest, declaring his emasculation.

"Well, I guess you'll pass...from a distance. Now go." She pointed the way, watching as he walked past her dejectedly, his eyes lifeless and defeated. She fell in step behind him, taking in the sight of his ass in her skimpy bikini bottoms, watching gleefully as every step he took pulled them into the cleft of his butt cheeks. By the time they had reached the stretch of sand leading up to her beach house they were no more than a glorified thong.

"Wait for me by that gate," she said, "I'll be right behind you."

Troy walked up the soft sand, thankful to finally be there. They had walked the entire way in silence, yet he could feel her eyes screaming at him, manipulating him just by looking at him. He could feel her staring at him now, no doubt enjoying the spectacle of him in her ill fitting clothes, yet despite his predicament his erection had waned only slightly, it's prominent bulge lurking obscenely inside his, her, bikini. He dreaded turning around, dreaded suffering the humiliation again, as she so easily exploited his weakness for her. He reached the wrought iron gate and stopped short amazed at the size of her house.

"Impressed?" she said as she walked past him, taking his hand and leading him through the gate in the tall stucco walls that surrounded a spacious patio encompassing a pool and an adjoining hot tub.

"It's very nice..." Troy muttered.

"Thank you." She said, pausing briefly to enter a code in a small keypad on the gate. "Actually it's not mine, not completely anyway...I own a part of it, my girlfriends and I bought it last year."

"Are they..."

"Relax...they won't be here until tomorrow...we've got the whole place to ourselves."

Troy let out a sigh of relief as she pulled him through an archway to a small covered seating area overlooking the patio.

"And besides," she said pulling her key from her pocket, "You're not the first little girl I've taken home."

"But I'm not..."

"Aren't you though sweetie?" she said as she slipped the key into the lock opening the door to spacious home. "I see someone in a tight Tommy Girl t-shirt and bikini bottoms, I definitely think she's a girl. Don't you?"

"Yeah..." Troy answered quietly.

"I thought so." She held open the door as she walked through it and looked at him impatiently. :Are you coming in? Or am I going to have to drag you in by your balls?"

Troy walked past her silently taking in the well decorated interior of the living room. He was surprised seconds later by her taking his hand and leading him up a few steps towards the kitchen.

She pulled out a barstool tucked under the counter. "Sit. I'll get you something to wear."

Troy watched her walk away, her hips swaying hypnotically as she exited the room. He still couldn't believe how gorgeous she was. In his mind he replayed her putting the bikini on him her fingers seeming to stroke him gently as she positioned his erection inside the bathing suit. As he thought he could feel the bathing suit beginning to tighten across his crotch again and he swore under his breath as her heard her footsteps approaching.

"This is all I could find in my closet Troy..." she said as she stepped lightly up the stairs, her breasts bouncing gently in the overflowing cups of her bikini top. In her hands she held a pair of gray yoga shorts and a white cami tank top.

Troy knew they would be much too small for him but he reached for them hesitantly. "I'm sorry...I don't think these will fit me."

"Not in that condition no..." she retorted shooting a quick glance at his crotch. "For someone who put up such a fuss about putting on my bikini, you sure do seem to enjoy wearing it."

"I...uh...It's...." Troy was in shock, utterly humiliated by his unbridled lust for her.

"Relax sweetie..." she said reaching around behind her. "I thought you might have a problem so I also brought you these." She pulled a pair of white cotton panties from her back pocket and laid them on the table next to him, smiling as he looked from them to her in shock.

Troy shook his head slowly mumbling a barely audible, "Ohh...noo."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that Troy." she said, anger creeping into her voice. "I thought you were going to do whatever I told you...isn't that what we agreed?"

"Yeah, but..."

"But nothing." She said quickly interrupting him. "What are you afraid of? That you'll like it?"

"No."

"Yes you are. I can see it in your eyes..." She bent over her face inches from his, "It's OK Troy, I want you to like it."

"Wha...what? Why?"

"Because the more you like it, the more I want to fuck you." She layed her hand gently on his lap, slowly massaging his penis, feeling it jump and twitch involuntarily against her palm. "Do you want me to fuck you Troy?"

"Oh god yes..." Troy moaned still clutching the shorts and t-shirt in his hands.

"Are you going to put on your panties like a good girl?"

"Yeees." He replied, his mouth quivering as she leaned closer, kissing him softly, her tongue whispering across his top lip.

"And the shorts?" she breathed, kissing him again.

"Yeeesss." He could feel her hand at his hip, her nimble fingers untying the bows at his waist, freeing his throbbing erection.

She gripped his penis in her hand stroking him slowly and with the other she cupped his swollen testicles, squeezing them sensuously until he could feel him straining to keep himself from cumming in her hand. She released him quickly, his moan of disappointment unmistakable as she stood in front of him.

"I knew you were a submissive little bitch..." she said smiling ominously.

"Please stop calling me that..." Troy pleaded as his breath caught in his throat

"But that's what you are isn't it.....bitch."

Troy shook his head slowly, intimidated into silence.

"Oh but you are Troy...you're a weak...submissive...sissified...bitch." She leaned over him as she spoke resting her hands on the arms of the chair, daring him to speak, fueled by the unmistakable fear in his eyes. "And I'm going to enjoy making you my pretty little femme..."

"I...I can't..."

"Oh you can sweet thing..." She paused licking her top lip ravenously, "because it's what I want and all you want to do is please me, isn't that right...bitch?"

Troy's mind was screaming at him to run, but his body would not move, conflicted by the fear in his chest and the ache in his groin. He felt his lips move but he could hear no words.

"What's the matter missy, did you think I didn't know about your desire to be feminized? Or maybe you thought I wouldn't notice the way your cock jumped when I showed you the panties?"

"I...it didn't..."

"Are you calling me a liar bitch?"

"No. I..."

"Why don't you put them on then, smart ass, and we'll see, won't we?" She backed away from him , tossing the panties in his lap, knowing full well what the outcome would be.

Troy however, was not so confident. Riddled with doubt he pulled the small white panties up his legs and over his thighs, trembling slightly with the sensation that even though was utterly humiliating was not entirely unpleasant. The low rise bikini briefs fit tightly across his hips, framing his swollen genitals in pristine white cotton, the thin fabric nearly transparent as it stretched across his groin, constrictive and arousing.

"You like them don't you?" she asked confidently.

"No." He could not bring himself to admit his weakness to her.

"That's a lie and you know it..."

She tried to keep an even tone but Troy could hear the anger creep into her voice again.

"Please..." was all he could manage, his resistance crumbling.

"Maybe you'd prefer something slightly more sensuous...a pretty little lace thong perhaps?"

"Please n.."

"I thought so..." She smiled at his shocked expression as he struggled to keep his composure.

"But I think you should wear those for now, at least until we're done with our workout."

"Wh..what?"

"Oh..." she said mocking him, "Did you want to leave?"

"But I thought..."

"I'll tell you what you little sissy, I'm going to get changed. Now if you're not dressed by the time I get back...well, lets just say you'll wish you were. Understood?"

Troy nodded slowly, rendered speechless by her threat of punishment.

She smiled approvingly and then wheeled sharply on her heel, bounding down the hall, unable, and unwilling, to disguise her excitement. Making it obvious to him how much she enjoyed his subservience would make it that much easier to dominate him. Once in her bedroom she dressed quickly in a pair of white stretch cotton low rise hot shorts and a matching crop-top with the Gold's Gym logo emblazoned in black across the front. She pulled her hair, cinching it with a rubberband into a ponytail. Placing two more into the palm of her hand she exited her bedroom eager to see Troy. When she turned the corner she wasn't disappointed.

"All ready I see..." Her mocking tone was intended and it served her well. Troy's gaze dropped quickly to the floor at his feet, obviously belittled by her teasing. She walked around behind him placing her hands gently on his hips admiring the noticeable line of his panties beneath the tight fitting shorts. "Just about perfect...I just need to do one more thing, get on your knees for me."

Troy knelt passively, his back still to her and as she took a handful of his chin length blond hair he stiffened noticeably.

"Relax sissy...I told you I wouldn't hurt you unless you misbehave. Are you going to misbehave Troy?"

"No," he answered quickly feeling very vulnerable in his current position.

"You're going to be a good girl and do exactly as I say aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?" she tugged on his hair slightly smiling as he flinched.

"Yes I'll do exactly as you say." he answered hoping it would satisfy her.

It did not. "And..." she prompted twisting her fist next to his scalp.

"I'm going to be a good girl."

"Yes, yes you are, my prettily little bitch." She proceeded to pull his hair into two effeminate pigtails, wrapping them tightly with rubberbands.

She walked around in front of him, her bare feet whispering softly on the carpet, and Troy looked up at her sheepishly. Her outfit accentuated her flawless curves and he tried to look without staring yet he could not help himself.

"Do you like what you see Troy?" she asked not turning around.

"Ye...yes. You're beautiful."

"Thank you Troy..." She turned her head looking at him curiously, "I didn't think you had the courage to admit that. Most girls are far too insecure to admit they find another woman attractive."

"But I'm not a.."

"You certainly look like it to me in your tight little shorts and tank top."

"But.."

"That's enough missy," she said sternly, silencing him. "It's time for our workout. Follow me."

Troy rose to his feet and followed behind her obediently, never taking his eyes off her luscious buttocks. Barely covered in her hot shorts, they left very little to the imagination and yet his was running wild. By the time he was ascending the curved staircase to the second floor a hard-on was again raging, pressing insistently against the tight fabric of the constrictive panties.

"Can I ask you a question?" he blurted suddenly.

"Since you just did...no," she said shortly. She led him across a bridge overlooking the living and dining area below and into a large dimly lit room. She flicked a number of light switches and the room was bathed in bright fluorescent light

Troy had not expected the entire room, save for large picture window to his left, to be completely mirrored. From the floor to the ten foot high ceilings, everywhere he looked all he saw was himself and the beautiful woman beside him. The room held two bowflex machines,a treadmill, and two stairmaster. Beyond that was a 9' x 20' rubber exercise mat and a rack of various sizes of dumbbells in front of a big screen television and a tower containing several components of a home theatre system. A sliding glass door led out to a deck overlooking the pool.

"C'mon you," she coaxed, taking him by the hand. "We've got to stretch out before we get started." She pulled him past the machines and onto the exercise mat turning him so they were both facing the mirrored wall. "I want you to follow my movements as best you can...I was an instructor at Gold's while I was in college but judging by your body I think you'll be able to keep up. So I don't want to hear any whining or complaining..."

"OK" he replied.

She began stretching with Troy mimicking her movements, but as she continued he found it more and more difficult to concentrate. Her body was perfect, a sculptor's dream, and with each exaggerated movement he became more entranced by her. Every time she bent forward he could see a wide expanse of her cleavage, the dark valley between her breasts so inviting, yet so unattainable. And when she began her calisthenics routine he felt as if he would burst out of the tiny gray shorts. He had never been so aroused in his life, and so tormented. Every fiber of his being burned with desire but his reflection demeaned him with his feminine image. Confusion clouded his thoughts and despite his best efforts he couldn't quell the hunger in his groin.

Troy's arousal did not go unnoticed.

"Enjoying your new clothes I see," she said as she dropped into a push-up position.

Troy could see by her reflection that she was staring at the prominent bulge at his crotch and he dropped quickly to the mat beside her. "Well no, not really," he said unable to hide his shame.

"That's not what it looks like to me," she quipped, moving up and down with crisp, graceful motion as if it took almost no effort. She could've guessed that he wouldn't stop staring at her, or couldn't. Most men gave her a second look, or a third, especially at the gym. She worked hard to keep herself looking the way she did, and with a genius level IQ, she knew exactly how to use it.

"Tell me sissy," she said as she rose to her feet waiting for him to finish, "what's making you so...disobedient?"

"Wha...what?" Troy had no idea what she meant.

"Disobedient. Defiant. Ill behaved."

"I don't know what you me..ugh!"

She stepped on the small of his back, smashing him into the floor. "Did I give you permission to have an erection?"

"No but..."

"That's correct," she said before he could finish, "I didn't. And the next time you tell me no or disagree with me in any way you will be punished. Understood?"

With her foot still firmly planted on his back Troy quickly agreed. "Yes..."

"Yes who?" She dug her heel into him watching him wince in pain.

"Yes ma'am?" Troy responded uneasily still not knowing her name.

"That'll do for now." She took her foot off his back and flipped him over with her toe, pointing at the unmistakable bulge in his ill-fitting shorts. "But that will not."

"I'm sorry," Troy apologized. "I can't help it."

"That's because you're pathetic and weak," she said softly. "So easily tempted, so willingly dominated, the more you submit become the more desirous you are."

Troy lay there looking up her helplessly, unable to argue. Try as he might he could not help but believe her, the proof was throbbing urgently inside his white cotton panties.

"I can tell by your silence that you agree." She smiled and extended her hand to him. "You have been warned, the next time I will not be so understanding."

Troy nodded as she pulled him to his feet and led him over to the stairmasters. Guiding him onto it's platforms she pushed several buttons starting him on an intense fifteen minute program. She mounted the one next to him and before long she was matching him stride for stride. The sweat poured off their bodies and as it did Troy observed her bra-top becoming more transparent as the minutes ticked by. By the time the timer on his machine hit zero her light brown nipples were clearly visible through the saturated fabric.

"I thought I told you to stop staring..." She walked toward him menacingly and he flinched.

"Take off your shorts."

"Wha...unh!" She slapped him sharply leaving his words trapped in his mouth.

"Don't talk, just take them off." She watched as Troy pulled the shorts down to his ankles and just before he was about to step out of them she grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled him to the ground at her feet. "Keep your forehead pressed to the ground bitch. I'm going to teach you a lesson."

Troy was shaking as she walked around behind him his face tingling from her unexpected assault. When she yanked his panties below his upturned ass he tried to pull away but before he had a chance her hand shot between his thighs and encircled his testicles, squeezing them tightly.

"Stay still you little priss. You were warned weren't you?"

"Y...yes ma'am," he stammered fearfully.

"Repeat after me bitch...I'm sorry I was bad girl Mistress," she began.

"I'm sorry I was a bad girl Mistress," he repeated, his voice trembling.

"...I am weak and deserve to be punished," she concluded.

"I am weak and deserve to be punished."

"Now I want you to repeat that every time you feel my hand spank your pretty little ass."

She smacked his right buttock, her palm making a sharp crack that echoed throughout the room as it made contact. She paused, listening to him recite his statement of subservience, running the palm of her hand across the top of her chest, moistening it with her perspiration and really lit into him, not stopping until the right side of his ass was glowing red and her hand stung. She slid her warm palm between his legs, cupping his balls, playfully jostling them between her fingers, feeling the weight of them hang heavily against her hand. Just as she felt him begin to relax, she gripped him tightly and repeated her spanking until both sides of his ass were the same scarlet color.

"Pull up your panties and stand up." she instructed, his words and incomprehensible whimper. "Every time you disobey me those are the words I want to hear, understood?"

Troy pulled up his panties slowly, the tight cotton feeling like a thousand tiny needles against his skin. Never more humiliated in his life he was horrified to feel that his erection had not subsided.

"Turn around," she commanded, knowing he was still fully erect, and knowing that given the humiliation he had just endured he would be at a loss to explain it.

But she asked anyhow.

"Perhaps you'd like to tell me why you continue to disobey me?" She tried to sound as if she was losing her patience with him, even though he was behaving exactly as she hoped.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled through his quivering lips. "I'm trying to do as I'm told, I am."

"Maybe I've misread you, maybe you're not the obedient little priss I'd thought."

"I could be," he claimed. "I want to be."

"I don't think so," she said simply, shaking her head. "I think you're a wanton little slut."

"Please..."

"Please what?" she asked. She reached out her hand, letting her index finger trace the contour of his penis inside his panties. "Please don't make you admit that you like being spanked, or that you deliberately disobeyed me because you like being punished?"

"I wouldn't do that..."

"Not consciously," she said, slipping the tip of her finger inside his waistband, "but you can't deny that so far you've exhibited several behaviors clearly indicitve of a pretty little slut, going all the way back to when I first saw you prancing around naked on the beach."

"But I..."

"Just admit it," she insisted. "You're a bad girl. And you like it."

"Yes," Troy acknowledged, bowing his head in surrender.

"Yes what....slut."

"I'm a bad girl."

"And?" She slipped another fingertip inside his panties and pulled him close to her.

"I like it."

"Like what little girl?" Her other hand was now on his hip caressing him gently.

"I like being a bad girl," he breathed, the words flowing easily from his mouth.

"Do you want me to treat you like a bad girl?" She asked, all four fingers now inside his panties, twisting and pulling subtilely on the soft material.

"Yes ma'am," he moaned, aching for her.

"You want to be my trashy little whore don't you sissy?"

"Oh god, yes ma'am..." Troy struggled to restrain himself, his hands clenched into tight fists.

"You're going to be my submissive little femme-slut aren't you?" She pulled the waistband of his panties down and tucked it behind his balls, making all seven and a half inches of his throbbing cock stick out majestically, bobbing slowly as it pulsed with yearning.

"Yes ma'am, ooh god yes!" He knew he would cum if she touched him and he braced himself for his climax. To his surprise she pulled away from him.

"You can start by addressing me as 'Mistress'," she said simply.

"Yes Mistress."

"Very good." She brushed past him as she made her way over to the Bowflex machines. "Come over here and do exactly what I tell you."

"Yes Mistress." Troy stepped out of his discarded shorts and walked the few steps over to her side, his neglected penis bouncing demeaningly atop his swollen testicles.

She sat down on the bench, arched her back, thrusting her perfectly formed bosom skyward and began doing pulldowns, her form flawless. Troy followed suit, the allure of her body only increasing the ache in his groin. He followed her through the intense, high rep workout, marveling at how fluid her movements were, keeping perfect rhythm with her breathing, never seeming to tire, never needing a rest. When she finally finished, every muscle in Troy's body ached and his erection remained as prominent as ever.

"I'll be right back," she said as she retrieved a towel from a shelf on the wall. "Take the rest of your clothes off and wait for me by the treadmill."

Troy peeled off his sweat soaked clothes, thankful to be rid of the clingy feminine attire. His erection ebbed quickly, relieving him of some of the embarrassment he felt as the minutes passed. Instictivly he covered his genitals as he heard her footsteps in the hallway, realizing his mistake immediately when he saw the anger in her eyes.

"Did I give your permission to cover yourself?" She was incensed, never thinking he would be that stupid. "I've tolerated enough of your stupidity! Turn around and put your hands behind your back! I hoped I wouldn't have to do this but until you can prove you can be trusted..."

She reached into one of the pockets of her short silk robe and Troy heard the smooth click of the handcuffs moments before he felt their cold steel close around first one wrist then the other. Restrained and disarmed by the sudden turn of events he had not even noticed the box she held in her hands.

"I think these will be perfect for you," she said with a smile as she laid it on the floor at his feet. "Every slut loves to wear heels and I really do think these are your color." She flipped off the top revealing a pair of strappy high-heeled open-toed sandals. Bright red with a four inch heel, they were an eye-catching pair of shoes, guaranteed to bring the slut out of almost anyone. She had found out Troy's shoe size on Wednesday from his discarded sandals on the beach, special ordered three pairs, red, pink and white, from Sinful Obsession, an adult store back in Optimum City, and immediately had them overnighted to her.

"But..but I can't wear those, I'll..."

"You'll do exactly as I tell you." she hissed, removing one of the shoes from the box. "Because if you don't, all you'll do is prolong the inevitable. and only make me angry. Do want me to be angry with you?"

"No Mistress."

"Then I think you'd better apologize." She flipped the shoe over in her hand bringing the heel to bear on the underside of his testicles, lifting him easily onto his toes.

"I'm sorry Mistress," he squealed quickly.

"and..." she prompted.

"I'm a bad girl and I deserve to be punished." The words rolled easily off his tongue. Almost too easily for Troy.

"That's better.." She pulled forward forcing him to move towards her, his testicles trapped neatly between the heel and sole of the shoe. "But I won't punish you again. Instead I want you to listen very carefully to what I'm about to tell you..."

"Yes Mistress," he breathed, uneasy at her proximity.

"You're letting your fear of humiliation overpower you. The only way to conquer that is to trust me. Your heart and mind have already begun to bare themselves to me by your actions and desires, the only logical step is that your body be exposed to me as well. You will grow to know me as well, and through that you will grow to trust me. And the more trust you give me the deeper our relationship will become until all you thought once humiliating and perverse will be the most intimate and sensuous pleasure you've always imagined it could be."

Troy stared at her longingly, her voice washing over him, gently eroding his reluctance. He could only nod slowly in response, and he was relieved to see the corners of her mouth turn upwards into a satisfied smile. It was when she glanced down that he realized what she had been smiling about. His penis had again sprung to life, it's rigid shaft once again betraying his yearning.

"It seems that you're eager to begin," she laughed as she removed the shoe from between his thighs. "Very well then...Lesson one: walking. Get your cute little butt on the treadmill and you can show me what you've got sissy."

Troy climbed aboard the treadmill suddenly realizing that his nakedness could easily be seen through the large picture window. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could his mistress reassured him.

"Worried what people will think if they see you?"

"Yes Mistress."

"Don't be," she replied. "All the windows in this house were specially designed to allow people to look out but not to look in. It affords exactly the kind of privacy my friends and I need."

Troy nodded slowly in agreement, his mind at ease. It was short lived however. His angst increased considerably when she knelt and took his left ankle in her hand and slipped the first shoe over his foot. It fit snugly but not uncomfortably. He balanced precariously on the four inch heel as she slipped the other shoe on his right foot and when she had finished he not only felt completely helpless but also curiously uninhibited.

"You like them," she asked rising to her feet, "don't you?"

"Yes Mistress," he answered, flexing his toes inside the toe strap, "very much.."

"I told you they were perfect for you.," she said smiling. "What do you say my little slut?"

"Thank you Mistress." Troy answered obediently.

She picked up the remote control from the console at the front of the treadmill turning on the television. Punching the keypad with her thumb she tuned it to the Style channel where models were strutting their stuff on a catwalk.

"See how those women walk?"

"Yes Mistress."

"Note their posture," she said as she moved onto the treadmill behind him. Manipulating his body gently as she spoke she continued, "Push you shoulders back, arching your back slightly, so your chest is accentuated. Very good. Now notice the unmistakable sway of their hips. They achieve that by crossing their ankles as they walk, making their gait decidedly feminine. I want you to mimic that exactly."

"Yes Mistress," Troy replied obediently, trying not to reveal his hesitation.

"Good girl." She knew he was unsure of how he would manage, his calves had already started to tremble in their uneasy state. But she was proud of him for trying to sound confident even though she was sure he had never been more insecure and vulnerable in his life. She stepped off the treadmill and moved around to the front, carefully pressing the buttons on the console. She heard him take a deep breath as the readout counted down to the start of the belt, and as he took his first step he pitched forward awkwardly, and he would've fallen on his face if it hadn't been for her catching him neatly by the upper arm and steadying him.

"Thank you Mistress," Troy breathed, thoroughly embarrassed.

"You need to relax and let your effeminate qualities come to the surface," she said looking deeply into his eyes. "I want you to close your eyes and listen to my voice."

Troy hesitated, looking at her fearfully.

His Mistress shook her head disappointedly. "What are you so afraid of? Did I not just keep you from falling? Why do insist on defying me?"

"I...I'm sorry," he answered, stumbling again as the belt of the treadmill continued to move..

"Don't bother," she said angrily, letting go of his arm. "If you think you're so fucking smart, do it on your own then."

"Please Mistress!" he begged, "I'm trying to do as you ask..."

"Don't you lie to me you worthless little priss, I should've left you on the beach where I found you. You don't deserve to be my femme, as a matter of fact you don't even deserve to look at me."

Troy averted his eyes quickly, staring at the floor.

"That's better. Until I tell you otherwise do not look at me, do not talk other than to answer 'Yes Mistress'. Got it bitch?"

"Yes Mistress." Troy answered quickly.

"Prove it. Shut your eyes and stand walk like I told you."

Troy tried to do as she instructed but he couldn't seem to keep his balance on the heels and his legs trembled with every step.

"I want you to clear your mind..." she said softly. Walking around next to him she placed her hand on his wrists unlocking the cuffs. "Now picture yourself standing naked in front of a full length mirror. Do you see yourself?"

"Yes Mistress."

"Good. Your body is smooth and shaven except for a small patch at your crotch, your skin slightly perfumed from the lilac soap of the bath. You slowly pull on a tiny pair of lacy white thong panties, the thin strip of fabric between your legs curving gently between your taut buttocks exciting you as you pull them onto your hips."

Troy was completely entranced by his Mistress' voice. So much so that he didn't even notice that he had fallen neatly in step or that his penis was slowly becoming engorged.

It did not go unnoticed by her however. She smiled triumphantly and continued in a sultry whisper. "On the bed next to you is a sexy two piece skirt set in pink mesh with white, flowered lace trim. You pull the camisole top down over your torso, the thin fabric tight against you. The material stretches across your breasts, nearly transparent, and you reach up, gently massaging your aching nipples. Your hands linger on your breasts for only an instant but as you reach for the matching skirt you can see by your reflection that your girl-cock is pressed urgently against your panties, it's rigid contour discernable beneath the feminine lace. Barely covering your shapely buttocks the skirt rests snugly on your hips, the pink mesh hugging every contour. Your pretty thong panties are clearly visible beneath your skirt and as you bend over to slip on your white high heeled sandals, you feel the skirt ride up suggestively, perfect for the wanton femme-slut that you are, and as you strut out of the room as I have taught you, you peek behind at your reflection knowing that I will be pleased."

Troy continued to walk, or rather sashay, on the treadmill, oblivious the fact that he was now doing so with a perfect feminine gait. With every step his hips swayed back back and forth smoothly, his heels clicking rhythmically on the deck of the treadmill. She watched quietly, the picture of him acting so effeminate, wearing only the high heels, was creating a dull ache from between her thighs, one that would have to wait to be satisfied.

"Open your eyes, my pretty little slut," she instructed, "take a look at how you've progressed."

Troy opened his eyes slowly, looking nervously at his reflection. He half expected to see himself in the outfit she had described and when he saw his naked body in the mirrored walls, his erect penis bobbing obscenely, he wished that he was. He knew he would be punished for his weakness and he was at a loss to explain it.

"It seems that you like the idea of wearing a pretty lace thong, doesn't it?"

"Yes Mistress," he answered, utterly humiliated by the undeniable truth.

"Or maybe you like the way it feels to walk like a whore in a pair of high heels?"

He uttered the only words he was allowed to speak. "Yes Mistress."

"I must say I'm not surprised," she walked around the treadmill, stepping up onto the deck in front of him. "when it comes to wearing panties it's all you can do not to beg for them isn't it?"

"Yes Mistress."

"I want to hear you beg for them slut," she instructed. "but you'd better be convincing..."

"Yes Mistress."

"Which means," she continued, "that I don't want to hear that voice. You're voice should be soft, sultry . . . feminine."

Troy opened his mouth but she stopped him before he could utter a word.

"Look at me," she instructed, "I want to see your pretty blue eyes when you beg your mistress for a pair of panties."

He gazed upon her beautiful face the words catching in his throat.

"I'm waiting..." she said impatiently, her lips curling into a wicked smile.

"Pleassse Misstresss..." Troy sounded gay as gay could be but he forced himself to continue. "Pleassse Misstresss may I have a pair of pantiess?"

"What kind of panties would you like slut?" she asked, still smiling.

"I...I don't know." Troy responded.

"Yes you do," she countered, "You want what every pretty little slut wants, you want a pretty pair of lace thong panties like the one I described don't you slut?"

"Yesss Misstresss."

"Lets hear it then bitch."

"Pleassse Misstresss, may I have a pretty pair of lace thong pantiess?"

"Keep practicing slut." She punched two numbers on the keypad, setting the clock for 59:00.

"Yess Misstresss."

"I'll be back by the time that stops." She left him on the treadmill listening intently as she exited. Turning around by the top of the stairs she called out to him. "If you get it perfect, I may just give you what you want!"

She could imagine the look on his face; the confused look of lascivious wanting for that which is utterly humiliating. She had seen that look on men before, but this time was different somehow. It felt...flawless. She had always felt a small twinge of guilt, a little prick of sorrow for the men she dominated. But not now. She could look in his eyes and see how much he wanted it. For the first time she could feel that it would last. The others had ended badly, never lasting more than one night. To enslaved by their own insecurities to keep, she dismissed each one unceremoneously, disgusted by their lame attempts at subservience.

But Troy was completely unexpected. He didn't leer at her like the others. He was in awe of her. He had not dared to touch her, something that was attempted almost immediately by most. It was as if he knew she was woman to be worshiped, by thought and emotion rather than by touch. His intelligence intrigued her, he was a quick learner. Only failing to control the one thing that he could not. His size alone was impressive, but his utter lack of pride of his substantial and unexpected erections was even more so. She had not expected such a strong reaction to the his wearing the panties, and she suspected that this was not the first time he'd worn a pair. Most likely the first time in front of a woman, but he would soon grow accustomed to that..

She did not go directly to her bedroom but instead made a quick detour to the study in the rear of the house. She called it the study only for convenience purposes. It's actual purpose was far more devious. One of the other women who owned the house with her was a TV news producer who had made quite a name for herself as an investigative reporter. Lucille had quite alot of knowledge in the areas of surveillance, both audio and visual. The "study" was the hub of an intricate system wired throughout the entire house. Similar to the house on "Big Brother" save for the fact that all the cameras were hidden. Some behind mirrors, like the ones in the gymnasium, and some in the various ornate trinkets placed strategically around the opulent home.

She pressed a button and the wall slid open revealing a bank of 16 monitors. She watched Troy for a moment, his hips swaying flirtatiously as he walked slowly on the treadmill, his lips uttering a silent request. She dared not turn on the volume. She didn't want him to know about the log of his deeds until the time was right. Her right hand slid beneath the silk fabric of her robe as she watched intently, gently massaging her full D breast. She let out a relaxed sigh as she pinched her nipple instinctively, the sight of Troy's subservience making her body yearn for pleasure. Her left hand slipped between her thighs, her fingers parting the robe as they found her warm vagina. Leaning against the wall she rubbed her clitoris in slow circles before first one then another finger between the soft lips of her vulva. Never taking her eyes from the screens she masturbated slowly, biting her upper lip to keep from crying out. Before long she could feel the climax building inside her. She clutched at her breast, her robe falling open, as she pressed her thighs together, riding the orgasm to wonderful conclusion. Breathless and lightheaded, she continued to stare at Troy, knowing he was finally the perfect choice.

  

  

  

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