Caught by the Past Ch. 03
Keywords: Ch., Caught, Past, by, 03, the,
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*Chapter 3 - Friends United*
"Previously - When you dressed as a sexy tart for James he showed two sides to his character. Bent over his knee, stuffed with a butt plug and forced to suck his cock. What more could he possibly do?... Read on"
After sucking his cock you sit on the sofa supported by a fluffy white cushion, shoes kicked off, legs curled under your lap. Dressed like a sissy whore you relax as best as you can, your arse muscle stretched wide open by the butt plug. But you've become accustomed to all the strange feelings... You even begin to enjoy being James's girl. He gives you a set of long false nails and a bottle of scarlet polish. Sticking them in place is quite a challenge but you enjoy painting your new nails. Each stroke of the brush makes you feel even more like a girl and soon you're sporting a set of gleaming red talons Cruella De Vil would be proud of. You wave your hands to dry as James looks on approvingly.
You're so engrossed in what you're doing you barely glance up when you hear voices and laughter outside. But then the front door bell rings - that got your attention. James doesn't move a muscle.
'Answer the door, Babe.' he says irritably. You want to refuse. Why should you? You're not his skivvy, it's his house but you feel compelled do to everything he asks. You're enjoying yourself and feel confident that you look beautiful and convincing. You believe you look so good whoever is at the door won't see through your disguise.
'Hurry up!' he says.
Obediently you leap to your feet, ram your towering heels back on with painful haste, straighten your skirt and totter to the front door.
As you lift the latch the door burst open and three men spill in. The men straighten themselves up, nudging one another and grinning. By the look of then and the faint scent of beer they brought with them, they'd come straight from the pub. They're a motley crew, ugly, over weight, scruffy and stand out in stark contrast to James. Your fishnet-covered legs are brushed by the cold outside air and you cross them slightly in a coy fashion. You sway slightly in your fuck-me heels, wonder if they like this sort of thing and suddenly feel underdressed. You tug the hem of your leather skirt down and almost break a new nail. You feel threatened and reach for the phone on the wall. 'What do you want? Who are you? I'll call the police.' Two of the men collapse in giggles the third blinked in a confused fashion then grins and made an attempt at straightening his jacket.
'No, it's all right. You're safe. We're friends of James. I'm Guy and this is Steve and Ian.'
Light dawned. You relax. 'The stag party.' You say.
There heads nod vigorously. 'We told Jeremy we'd call in.' Said Guy. The other two snigger again.
'You must be Sissy, James's new girlfriend. He said you'd be coming tonight.'
You nod and feel you face flush crimson.
Their eyes burn into you mentally taking off your skirt and blouse as they stride in. 'Huh! Not bad, Sissy. Not bad.'
Once in the lounge James introduces them again, you smile at them individually and hang off James arm for emotional support.
'This is Sissy.' he says, 'as you've guessed. She knows how to work a short dress and please any man.'
You blush again, fearful of what James is planning.
'Curtsey for my friends, Honey, lets not be rude.' His friends all study you hungrily as you click your heels together and bend at the knee as much as the tight skirt allows.
'Oh! and lads just look at her beautiful nails. She's spent hours doing them for us.' James laugh fills the room. Deep and grainy, it reverberates in your stomach and, just for a moment, calms you.
You waggle your fingers at your admiring audience and smile. 'All the better to scratch you with, my dears,' you joke.
Slap. James strikes you on the face. 'Cheeky bitch,' he cry's, 'Your hot little mouth is for sucking not for talking. Show my friends what you're good for.'
You look bemused.
'Show them your... G-string give us all a show.'
Your cheek stings and you want to cry. You're shocked by his assertiveness, you want to collapse and your eyes begin to water. You're now even more nervous of the lecherous lads and terrified you won't please you turn and bend forward holding the window sill for support.
'I don't normally do this,' you say looking behind, your curly hair obscuring your face.
'Shut it slut!' James shouts. 'Who said you can talk. Tart!'
You sniff back a tear and wave your arse at them sexily in a vain attempt to satisfy.
'B... B... but I don't,' you cry.
'What did I say slut,' he growls, 'you've asked for it. Don't move a muscle,' and he leaps off his chair slides your skirt over your hips and tugs the huge butt plug from your arse. A loud sloop echoes around the room shortly followed by gasps of awe from the lads as the full size of the butt plug is realised.
'See this guys only a sissy slut could swallow this big bung.' They all laugh heartedly. 'Help me lads, Sissy talks too much, she needs to learn some manners.'
As if meticulously rehearsed they all huddle round you. You panic but before you can straighten James pushes a large phallic object into your mouth. It's long, wide and cold. You gag gasping for breath. But lips stretched wide, unable to utter a sound some stretchy straps are pulled over your head as if a horse with a bridle. A clasp clicks defiantly shut and your trapped wearing some modern day medieval headgear.
'Now shut the fuck up you ungrateful winging slut.' Your lips stretched wide your tongues pushed flat into your pallet and the rubber cock almost touches the back of your throat.
'I think you need to learn who's wearing the trousers round here. Who's boss, who's in charge.' From a sideboard he pulls a large wooden paddle.
Terror etches across your brow.
'Ian get the ice cubes. And Sissy drop them.'
Reluctantly and with some trepidation you hook a long nail under the spaghetti side straps and wiggle your butt, easing your g-string down to your knees. The lads notice the dried seed stains and smirk amongst themselves.
'Now slut bend over me.'
Steve holds your feet and Steve holds your hands down. Then Ian reappeared carrying a large bowel of frozen cubes.
'How many cubes will this cute arse swallow? I'm taking bets.'
Immediately they start arguing amongst themselves. You hear them shout numbers randomly, '10, 15, 20'
The first cubes the worst. James inserts it slowly until its half way in then flicks it home with a plop. The cold ice cube sends wild internal sensations throughout your body. 'Mmm!' you murmur. Then one cube at a time he slips in another counting out loud as each one disappears inside you.
'When I'm done I want you to thank me for the attention I'm giving your asshole, Honey.
After a while your arse feels like a stuffed freezer at Christmas with no room left for even a mince pie.
'Bet that's cold.' he says
You nod unable to speak.
'Well after this paddle starts tanning your arse things will soon heat up and you wont be thinking about that asshole full of ice.
Your arse is held high in the air as you lay over his lap expectantly. He wields the wooden paddle menacingly. 'This will hurt, slut.' He chirps. You wait nervously, tensing every muscle until the first blow strikes you squarely on the rump. Slap! The lads all cheer and you feel the ice crunch and compact inside your arse. Slap! It does hurt but not very much. Everyone's pain threshold, and yours isn't terribly high, but each time the paddle smacks your lardy arse, it feels as if you're being stung by a petulant bee that changed is mind mid-sting and withdrew. Initially there is no ache of after-sting. It's bearable. Surprisingly he didn't hit hard, but after 20 slaps it did begin to sting. Your corrective punishment, if you can call it that lasts about ten minutes, but as he slaps you one last time your arse had begun to glow red and swell.
'As the cubes melt you'll be a messy girl. A tiny g-string won't cope with your sanitary problem.'
Released systematically you stagger to your feet. Bruised and tender you clench you're arse muscles tightly; its no good, a dribble of water escapes, spots your skirt and runs down your leg. Then to your amazement James hands you a large baby's nappy with elasticised legs and Velcro side fastenings.
You look at him bemused.
'Don't look so fucking dim. Every girl has a child within waiting to grow up. Now unhook your stockings and put this on.'
You do as he directs and when you look up, Steve's holding a beautiful white dress with gorgeous puffy sleeves, sequins and delicate white lace all over it. Ian holds a pair of frilly white over panties and matching rubber panties. Guy is holding a pair of white satin shoes and white tights.
'My friends like Sissy girls and they've brought you all sorts of little sissy clothes. They want to dress you up and have you nurse their cocks as if they were bottles of milk.' He laughs
'Now hurry before the ice melts. I don't want my carpet ruined. Put these things on.'
The guys watch, mesmerised as you perform a reluctant striptease. James puts on a CD and to the music you step out of the skirt, slip off the blouse, shoes and fishnets. The lads all grunt with approval. Then with just the nappy and bra on you step into the rubber panties and pull the party dress over your head. You sit on the edge of a chair carefully and slide the white tights up your legs. Guy holds out the over panties and he winks frighteningly at you as he slides them up your legs under your skirt. Soon you're transformed from a tarty slut into an angelic baby girl. Though the red nail varnish looks rather out of place.
'I look like a Snow Queen.' you say flicking your skirts from side to side.
'Fucking Snow Queen! That's rich and you've an arse full of ice.' Ian says while lighting a cigarette, 'Sissy thinks she's a snow queen, the slag, fucking fairy queen more like.' The others laugh as Ian roughly drops a sparkling tiara on your head and Steve gives you a toy fairy wand.
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Keywords: Ch., Caught, Past, by, 03, the,