Caught by the Past Ch. 02
Keywords: the, Ch., by, Caught, 02, Past,
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*Chapter 2 - Tight or Loose*
Previously - After a drink with a new friend he invites you back to his house. Strangely drawn to this handsome guy he persuades you to dress in girls clothes... Now You're wearing a sexy leather mini skirt, fishnets and high heels, your cocks like rock and you're just about to show yourself...
At the sight of James, you get a sensation of claws scuttling across the floor of your belly. The sensation of far-off teenage crushes, of sex when it was still as much a puzzle as a thrill. You want him. But in a different way - you want him to appreciate you as a girl not as a boy. You want him to hold you in his arms, show affection and behave all lovey-dovey. The sensations scare you and you edge forward cautiously.
He's relaxed, slouched in an armchair reading, of all things, a girly magazine. He's rubbing his swelling groin enthusiastically. You stand in the doorway and wiggle your toes in your high heels and try to look as attractive as a young man dressed in a red leather skirt no wider than a belt can. James eventually sees you, jumps up and pulls you into his arms the bulge in his trousers threatening to jab you in the tummy.
'Christ you've scrubbed up well.' he says.
'Thanks,' you smirk, 'I hardly recognised myself in the mirror.'
He gave a knowing laugh then you do what an hour earlier you'd consider unimaginable - you kiss him. Not a big sloppy kiss but a gentle caring, on the cheek kiss.
'You look absolutely amazing,' James says overdoing it with a crocodile smile. Your legs are so long, your figure is so sexy and your tight arse.... Hmm!'
Confidence slowly returns, relieved that your trickery fear was unfounded. James waves his hand aloft like a conductor and you the willing orchestra parade before him strutting around like a sexy cat walk model, swinging leather hips, stretching long legs and tossing your mass of blonde curls. You want to feel like a million dollars and momentarily forget all your inhibitions.
But you see your reflection in the mirror over the fireplace and reality hits you in the face like a shovel. 'I feel like a cheap tart.' you say pouting up against a wall, 'I want to be a sexy diva.'
James laughs and his face changes suddenly into an evil scowl. 'That's because you're a fucking, dirty tart.' He slaps you hard across the cheek causing your face to sting and your lipstick to smudge. 'Thwack!' He slaps you again. Dazed and concussed you back away like a wounded deer. You're in shock, defenceless and vulnerable. You sniff back a tear and realise how a bottom skimming short skirt and towering high heels makes you incapable of fighting back.
'You're a tramp, a slut, and a fucking whore!' he screams waving his arms about like a windmill.
His manner is quite out of character, aggressive and rude, you think his outburst is bound to attract the neighbours or even the police. He doesn't seem to be laughing anymore and you don't see the funny side.
'What's wrong?,' you say, 'Don't you like how I look?'
He abruptly stops. Motionless he laughs a long wicked laugh. 'To the contrary, honey, you look fucking amazing, just like a cheap tart should look.' He drops to his knees and clips a gold bracelet round your ankle. Once secure he holds your slender legs tight and tries to sneak a peek up your skirt. You're naturally embarrassed and feel very vulnerable and insecure like a young lamb that's lost its mother. You blush and step backwards. James is disgruntled.
'Oh no! Slut you don't escape that easily. I want to know what sort of knickers you've on under that lot. Bend over and show me.' He smirks cruelly and gestures with his hand, '...You know you want to!'
'I'm not wearing knickers!' you say indignantly, 'You should know. I'm wearing you're g-string.'
'Whatever. Just show me, slut! And show some respect or I'll take you upstairs and give you a proper seeing to.'
You cower in the doorway. You don't like his aggressive tone but you think you see the corner of his mouth curl upward. Coyly, afraid he might strike you again; you turn your back and slide the tight leather over your hips whilst bending at the waist. The leather stretches and creaks alluringly and James gasps with astonishment as the silky lining allows the mini skirt to slide over your smooth rounded arse. You shake your hips at him, turn, smile coyly and suck two fingers suggestively. If it's a tart he wants, it's a tart he will get, you muse clasping you butt cheeks with both hands and giving them a rub.
'Oh! Big boy are the rumours true?' You tease. 'Heard you're a dirty dog, bow wow, fuck my cunt. I wanna good rogering.'
This was probably unwise as the next thing you know his strong hands snake round your tiny waist dragging you back to the armchair, across his muscular knee.
It comes as a flash back - A cloudy haze - you vaguely remember being slung over a knee before and smacked by your mother. Another flash and this time the mist clears slightly. You're dressed for a fancy dress in... In... a little girls fairy outfit. Oh! My god! Is this true or a wild dream. Have you dressed as a girl in the past? but before you can piece any more of the jigsaw together you're awoken from your dream by James loud shouting.
'Wow! Missy, know what I think, slut? I think you're a cheap whore who gets her thrill from sucking cock.'
You shake your head frantically.
'Oh! Yes my sexy slut you pretend to be prim and proper but it's a facade. You like nothing more than talking dirty and sucking thick meaty cock.' he laughs and suddenly adopts a more serious tone. 'Does Karen know about this girl within you?'
You shake your head again this time more frantically your long curls flying this way and that. 'Of course not,' you protest. 'I've never dressed in women's clothes before.'
But had you? You really can't remember.
He laughs again. 'Dressed as a sleazy slut for a man you mean?' He sneers. 'You can't expect me to fucking believe that do you? You're a pro. A slut who wakes up every morning with a different bloke and can't even remember their name.'
'I'm not,' you squeal girlishly, wishing you'd worn something less flattering and less desperate. Why hadn't he left out something dowdy that finished below the knee with a pair of near flat court shoes? But what's become of you? You haven't ever wanted a man, you don't consider yourself gay but he's turned you into a sissy who thinks he's a girl and he's created a James-shaped need in you, a need that only he can satisfy. You can't believe your own imagination as you look forward to stuffing his cock in your mouth more than you have looked forward to anything in your life. What's magical power did the pretty clothes have? What has become of you? You shake your head and recall an old saying - When in the desert do you know how thirsty you are until the bottle is pressed to your lips.
You can't deny you're enjoying the feel of the clothes and love the feminine sensations that sweep across your body you even appreciate his attention and his amorous glances. Yet something is wrong, his change in attitude shocks you and you're powerless in his strong grip. Your hair falls forward and you put your hands in front of you and touch the floor pivoting on his lap like a seesaw. He taps your shiny arse leather that's now taught as a drum with the palm of his hand. You struggle helplessly kicking your smooth shapely legs and can't help but emit a feeble girlish scream. But he doesn't let you go. You scream again but this time your outburst simply pleases him more throwing fuel onto his already burning fire. Then you feel it! His hardening cock press up into your tummy.
Another flash and again you see the fairy costume but this time you remember something about a holiday camp. It's all a blur yet you can remember secretly loving the experience. The soft dress, the frills, the lace it was magical. Flash - You begin to recall the holiday. Your mum borrowed the fairy outfit from another little girls mother. It started as a joke but your Mum wasn't impressed when she realised you enjoyed being a girl. Now you vaguely remembering winning first prize but she punished you for showing too much enjoyment. She didn't want a sissy son and to overcome your desire she decided to opt for total emersion. She borrowed more clothes from the kind girl's mother and made you masquerade as a liitle girl for the rest of the week convinced that after 5 days in skirts you'd be begging for your boys clothes back . Another flash and you remember loving every minute. You loved wearing the pretty dresses and skirts. You enjoyed dressing up for the evening in beautiful party dresses and loved wearing sun dresses during the day all much to your mother's annoyance. Is this why you'd forgotten? Your mother had made you forget terrified of what she'd done, she had awoken a secret longing in you which she couldn't control. But who was the other little girl. She was so nice. You played with her a lot. You wore all her clothes. Suddenly your dreamy trip down memory lane is shattered as you hear James screaming again.
'I'm right and you know it. You're a cheap slut who loves nothing more than satisfying men.... You can't deny it. I can tell if you're telling me the truth.' He rubs the palm of his broad hand across your buttocks the heat penetrating your skirt warming your soft flesh. Your little cock twitches uncontrollably.
'How can you?' you cry, terror showing in your voice, afraid of what James is on the edge of discovering.
'Oh! honey, where's your faith, I said I'm a good judge of character and I've got you sussed. I can tell you're a sissy. A boy that's better suited as a pathetic girl. A weak willed submissive who needs direction. You're not a strong dominant woman despite your tarty look.'
That's when you felt it. A large stubby finger hoiking your tiny g-string aside like the string on a bow. James falls silent while he grabs a small jar of Vaseline from a coffee table. Oh! He presses a slippery finger at your most intimate orifice, easing the muscle apart teasing you open.
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Keywords: the, Ch., by, Caught, 02, Past,