The Excursion -- Part III

It had been a long afternoon, indeed. As the slave walked arm-in-arm with Mistress Angela and Mistress Christy through the mall, his mind raced through the adventures he had experienced that day. Shopping by himself at the drugstore, with Jennifer embarrassing him in front of the other customers with his tampons and fashion magazines and lipstick...going to see Mistress Angela and finding, unexpectedly, Mistress Christy there, as well...Mistress Christy's probing of his hole and the insertion of the plug while Mistress Angela toyed with him in front...the visit to the lingerie shop in the mall, where his two Mistresses humiliated him in front of everyone there, forcing him into the tight, pink satin corset, much to the delight of the young salesgirl. And to think -- he had been so excited by the entire experience, his genitals bound with a stocking, forcing him to remain in an aroused state, his member dripping so profusely that he worried about staining his trousers. He'd never know, however, whether such a visible sign of his arousal existed or not. The corset was laced so tightly, the stays so unrelenting, that he couldn't really bend at the waist to check himself. At least he wore a blue shirt today, and he was glad. The only more embarrassing thing he could imagine would be for the pink satin to show through his shirt.

It had been a full afternoon, and the ladies were hungry. The three of them made their way carefully through the mall, heading straight for the
upscale restaurant attached at one end of the complex. The slave was loaded with packages, packages that held the other items they had purchased that afternoon. In addition to little wisps of lingerie and other things purchased for Angela and Christy, they had made him purchase a charming little red dress for himself. It had such a feminine silhouette, with a smocked bodice and long, full skirt, and was accented with little white flowers throughout. This piece, together with his new stockings and matching high heels made a delightful ensemble he couldn't wait to try. Oh, he'd tried-on the heels, of course...Angela insisted on it. Having to sit in the chair at the shoe store was awful, what with the corset preventing him from trying them on by himself. The saleslady had been nice, though, as if she understood his predicament. But then having to walk around in those red pumps, back-and-forth through the store, with everyone looking at him! He saw himself in the mirror, his trousers distended by his arousal, his waist cinched very severely, in a most exaggerated manner. Who could blame the saleslady for giggling as she witnessed such a spectacle?

They rested briefly at a bench near the mall fountain so Christy could have a cigarette before they got to the restaurant. Flanked by the two Mistresses, the slave was glad they chose to sit for a while. Mistress Angela let her hand rest on his thigh, her nails digging lightly into his flesh. He moaned a bit as she leaned closely to him, her perfume filling his senses once more. "Guess what, slave," she whispered seductively, "we're going to let you try your new outfit at the restaurant." She saw the panic in his face and spoke quickly to alleviate his fears. "No, no, silly! Not out in front of everyone! We don't want to get you arrested! But we are going to have you wear it. And then we want you to play with yourself while you do so."

"How can I possibly do that, Mistress?" he asked.

"Very simple, actually," she replied. "We're going to sneak you into the ladies' room, you'll change into your outfit, and then," she reached into her purse and retrieved a small cup, the kind you get with NyQuil cold medicine, "and then you're going to fill this cup for us while we enjoy a glass of wine." Christy broke into a wide grin as she took a long, sensuous drag from her dainty cigarette. Angela could feel herself getting moist at the thought of such a scene. This was a big step for slave, but she knew he would obey her without question. She looked into his eyes as she spoke, and she noticed that special look he got on his face, the look of raw excitement and lust. He wanted to do this, she knew.

His breathing became more shallow, his words, hushed. "Oh, Mistress! You mean I have to sit in the stall and ... and play with myself while dressed?!" He was on a roll, now, his voice dropping to a lustful whisper, his eyes wide, pupils dilated as he spoke. "I'll be sitting there, my dress hiked-up around my waist...my panties to my ankles... the corset pressing into me, with...with stockings and heels. Mmmm, Mistress!" He ran his hands along his thighs, brushing against her hand, holding it briefly, subconsciously trying to urge it northward to his crotch.

"None of that now, my sexy little bitch," Angela dug her nails deeply into his thigh. "I know you want to do this, don't you? Yes, I thought so. You'll be sitting there as women come in and do all sorts of things. But you'll have to be quiet about it."

"You two are making me wet," Christy exclaimed as she snuffed-out her cigarette. "Let's do it!"

The restaurant was quiet, it being well after lunch but before the after-work crowd descended on the bar. To make things easier, Christy had transferred the necessary items to a single shopping bag. She watched the ladies' room door as Angela ushered her slave inside. She had to help him shed his clothes and the anal plug -- the corset really did limit his movements -- and in two shakes of a lamb's tail, he was in stockings and heels, the dress smoothed nicely over his torso. He hissed as he inhaled, so excited was he and his situation. Mistress Angela pushed him against the stall, pressing her body next to his. She reached under his dress to manipulate him a little, bringing her face within millimeters of his. "Now, I want you to touch yourself nicely for me, slave," she whispered in a lusty, throaty voice. "You know why, don't you? Yes, I think you do. Because we want you to fill this cup for us. If that means you have to do it twice, three times...well, that's what you'll have to do, isn't it?" She let her nails rake across his shaft, cupping his genitals as she spoke. "And if it's not filled by the time we're ready to go, we'll have to punish you, won't we? Yes...I'm afraid we will." Slave was left gasping as Angela disengaged herself from him, handing him his lipstick. "Here, this should help things along, I would think! Put it on heavily for me, slave. My your mouth wet with color as you play."

She pushed him into the stall, turned, and left. Slave quickly closed the door, lifted the hem of his dress and sat. He looked down at his swollen member, the bindings having been removed, he was no less erect than before. He carefully removes the lipstick top and applies it heavily to his mouth. As he began to touch himself, his mind wandered to images of bondage and forced feminization. Of being held captive by Mistress Angela and used as entertainment for one of her parties. She had described such a situation to him once before, and he longed to be placed in such an erotic scenario. Let's see...how had she put it? Slave drifted into a fantasy world as he proceeded to fulfill his obligation in the ladies' room. Angela had used wonderful imagery as she described what would happen to him.....

"The hospitality suite itself is luxurious, but not overly pretentious. There's plenty of room for the twenty women I've invited to join us. Most of the women are quite becoming, made even more so by their dress. They'll stay an hour or so, have their cocktails and hors d'oeuvres, then leave for dinner and the night clubs. So their hair, makeup, heels and clothes are appropriate for a party night on the town.

"As you mingle with my guests, offering them champagne as you go, you can't help but enjoy the sexy aroma of their perfumes as you walk by. Let's face it, you admire them, worship them ... because they are all beautiful women. It's a shame they don't think the same of you. Well, look at yourself! You're wearing a very revealing outfit. Your corset is made of the finest satin and lace, and is very heavily boned, giving you a rather voluptuous figure. You struggle to breathe as the genuine whalebone stays nip your waist relentlessly, to its smallest. The top of the corset frames your exposed breasts with stiff underwire, and I've taken the trouble to paint your nipples red with lipstick. The eight garters of your corset hold your stockings taut against your smooth, freshly shaved legs. Your cute little skirt, which barely covers your ass, flounces seductively as you walk. The only other thing you're wearing, besides the five-inch black heels on your feet, is a very sheer pair of black panties, dripping with lace. Oh, worry not, my little sissy slave, your arousal is quite apparent to all present. Besides your pupils being dilated, your clit is at full erection, straining against the satin fabric of your panties. Even so, you blush in shame as you overhear some of the women comment on how inadequate your equipment is. They're disgusted by the wet spot that is rapidly spreading across the front of your panties, revealing to all your lustful state. Yes, you are quite a sight. From time-to-time, I call you over to the bar to freshen your lipstick. Yes, in front of everyone. Some of the women stare at us as I make a big production out of applying the color. You know the routine. I slowly twist the tube, extending the lipstick to just the right height. Then I hold it carefully, and very still, right against your mouth. I tell you to kiss it, to love it, to suck it in your mouth. As always, this results in a very effective transfer of color to your lips, making them wet and inviting. Out of the corner of your eye, you see them pointing at you and whispering to each other and laughing.

"All-and-all, however, the evening is going well. I'm making useful business contacts, and the women seem satisfied with your service. Except for one woman, that is. Her name is Wendy, and she seems to be enjoying her champagne very much... maybe too much. She begins to taunt you as you pass her by, pinching your ass very roughly and making embarrassing comments as you serve her another glass. You try to ignore her, but you can't help feeling totally humiliated. She's probably the most beautiful woman in the room, with striking blonde hair, pulled back and up into a bun. Her makeup is impeccable, and her dress is quite revealing. She catches you staring at her feet. Well, I don't say I can blame you. She's wearing a beautiful pair of strappy, high-heel sandals, leaving her brightly painted toenails for men to admire. She turns her foot this way and that, egging you-on and trying to seduce you with her beautiful feet. But you stare at them for too long, and she steps on your toes to get your attention. "Startled, you lose your concentration, and one of the glasses shifts slightly on the tray, spilling a few drops of champagne. Wendy sees her opportunity, and slaps you forcefully across your face. She laughs at your embarrassment, and reaches up to your mouth and smears your lipstick with her hand. Everyone has stopped talking and is looking at you now, and I walk over to see what is the matter. This pig's been ogling me, Angela,' she tells me. And look at his lipstick. What a slob.'

"I'm disappointed in you, slave. How could you embarrass me like this, just when everything is going so well? Put that tray down and come over here,' I demand, pulling you by your ear like a child.

"But, Mistress!' you protest. That was your second mistake. I pull you over to a chair and swing you around quickly. Before you know it, you find yourself draped across my lap, your butt high in the air. Mistress, please, please don't spank me here, in front of everyone!' you cry.

"If you know what is good for you, little slut, you'll hold still,' I say quietly, but forcefully, as I grasp your arm and twist it behind your back, keeping you in place across my lap. Wendy, bring me the paddle from behind the bar.' Wendy is only too happy to participate in this little scene, and she quickly brings me the implement of your chastisement. By this time, everyone has gathered around the chair to watch. I quickly pull your panties down to your knees, and before you can fully appreciate your predicament, you feel the first painful swat of the paddle.

"Wendy squats down in front of you, holding your face in her hands. Even so, I continue to spank you soundly, and you can't seem to stop your legs and their girlish kicking. As Wendy looks you straight in the eye, she continues to taunt you and tease you. Oh, does the spanking hurt, little girl?' she says in mock sympathy. I don't stop spanking you until you're sobbing, your mascara running down your cheeks. I give you a final, very forceful swat before I tell you to get up and apologize to my guests.

"The rest of the evening you spend standing in the corner. I've told you to hold your skirt up above your waist so everyone can see how red it is. As the guests leave, they thank me for my hospitality and express their sympathy to me for having such an unruly slave. Don't worry,' I tell them. Wendy and I will take care of things later this evening. She's graciously offered to spend the night here and help train the little slut.' The guests nod their approval, and make me promise to tell them how it went. I assure them I will, as I thank them and tell them to enjoy the rest of the evening."

It is a powerful scenario, described so well by Mistress Angela. Slave feels the pressure rising within him as he imagines the humiliation he would undergo, and he reaches for the Nyquil cup, hoping his aim is adequate to the situation. He catches the first two strings nicely, stifling his urge to moan loudly as his release finds its mark. He startles slightly as he hears the door open to the room and two women enter. Damn! He nearly drops the cup in surprise, but catches himself and musters all he can to remain silent. One woman opens the door to the stall next to his, sits and begins to pee. They must be friends, because they are maintaining a level of feminine banter as the other woman goes to the vanity mirror to powder her nose.

"So, I find him in the bedroom," the powder-woman says to the other, "and he's playing with my underwear."

"You've got to be kidding!" the other replies as she begins her stream.

"No, I'm not. Really! I catch him wearing my bra and panties, and he has my nylons all rolled-up and tucked under his...thing...and he's using
another nylon to rub all over himself!"

"What are you going to do?" she asks, reaching for the toilet tissue.

"Well, I'm going to keep him that way, of course!" She laughs hard. "I told him that if he wants to sneak around and wear my things, then he'll have to wear them whenever I tell him to!"

Flush. "That's so incredible, Linda! I love it! You'll have to have me over sometime when he's all dressed up."

"Definitely. Shit, we can do it tonight if you want."

"Yes! Let's do it when we finish here."

"Done!"

They leave the wash room, laughing together. Damn! That was too close, slave thinks to himself. But he notices that the conversation had a wonderful effect on his libido, and since the cup is not quite full, he begins he task in earnest. The door opens again. It's Angela! "How are we doing in there, slave?" she asks mockingly. "Open the door." Slave opens the door, allowing Angela inside. "Hmmm," she says, examining the cup. "You haven't obeyed us, have you? We told you to fill that thing, didn't we?" His protests are stifled as Angela places her finger against his lips, quieting him. "I suppose we have no alternative to punish you, do we?"

"No, Mistress. I'm sorry."

"Oh, you'll be sorry, all right. Christy we be here shortly. She'll help you change. In the meantime, I want you to think about what you're going to do tonight."

"Mistress?"

"Oh, yes. Tonight. Didn't I tell you? I'm having a few ladies over for a little training session. I've rented a private suite over at the Hyatt. And I need a little maid to serve us drinks and such. And, of course, to serve as a 'training aid', as well. Don't worry . . . I'll get my due from you, yet!"