Vicious Beach – Perfect Choice (part two)

“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 min
d 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 t
he top of the stairs she called out to him. “If you get it perfect, I may just give you what you want!”
S
he 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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