Terry's Descent Ch. 03
Keywords: Ch., 03, Terry's, Descent,
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Morning After
I brought up Jo's breakfast after having a fitful sleep. I still ached from having been used on the stairs last night. She woke up slowly, and took the tray from me. I always make breakfast for her, she is used to it, but today there was no thank you.
Suddenly her sleepiness faded, "What are you wearing?" she snapped. I was in my dressing gown as the house was cold and I had slept naked. I responded, explaining this, she answered coldly, "Put mine on, you little faggot."
I had thought that last night's activities were merely a one off - punishment for a ruined anniversary – and just stood there, dumbfounded.
"Do as I say, Terri," she said evenly. I turned, letting my dressing gown slip onto the floor as I approached hers. It was a silky feminine gown, something that she wore on special occasions. It was out as it was supposed to have been a celebration last night. I wished it was not.
I hung the light material over my small frame; it was cold, as was the house. Despite my embarrassment, I felt myself beginning to get aroused; I prayed she would not notice.
"That's better," she said through a mouthful of cereal, "You don't deserve to dress like a man, all you have is a clit. Understand?"
I mumbled an agreement, my eyes on the floor. It was good enough for her. She continued to eat her breakfast, switching on the television and ignoring me. I went to get the rest of her work things ready.
My Punishment
She came downstairs dressed in her tight business suit. The skirt was short, showing off her amazing legs. I was surprised she had come down so soon, she did not have to leave for work for quite a while.
"Terri, you are going to be punished for last night," she started. I had thought that what had happened was punishment enough, but was not going to argue with her. She seemed so angry that I feared losing her forever, "Since you like being dressed up like the slut you are, I think I will have to use that as your punishment."
I was confused; I did not see how using something I liked could be a punishment. I looked at her, unsure of what to think; afraid to say anything unless she changed her mind and thought of something that I did not like.
"We're going to dress you up like a whore, then send you down into town to do your shopping," her explanation made all the color drain from my face, I stared, unable to move, "So get upstairs, you little slut."
I walked ahead of her, painfully aware of her eyes examining my frame as I climbed the stairs. Glancing briefly at her, I saw that she was appraising me like an object. I can only assume that she was considering what would look best on me.
There was an outfit already laid out on the unmade bed, and it terrified me. It consisted of clothes that I did not even know Jo owned. There was a red satin corset - fairly plain, but with small black ribbons. I felt a rush of warmth in my crotch looking at it. Beside it was a ridiculously short, black vinyl mini skirt, red fishnet stockings and thong, and thigh high, black vinyl boots. She had not been joking when she said I was going to look like a hooker. I was desperate to hide how wet I felt myself becoming.
My fear was very evident, and Jo was enjoying every moment, "I thought this might take the smile off your face. Now get it all on, and quickly, you had better not make me late for work."
I acted fast; slipping a panty liner in while Jo's back was turned. When it came to the corset, she pulled it tighter than I had ever pulled her black one. She had used duct tape to squeeze up as much of my chest as possible. With the force of the corset, I had passable cleavage. Looking in the mirror, I felt a little faint, made worse by the small amount of air the corset was supplying.
"Oh yes, you are looking perfect," she stood back to look at me, "Now lets add some tarty makeup and jewellery to finish the job. When I'm finished with you, you will be propositioned by every sleazy man in the town."
I sat down and let her help me finish off the look. My eyes began to water but she slapped me, warning me not to let my mascara run. I controlled myself the best I could allowing her to add the last touches. She styled my hair with plenty of body.
"Now let's have a look at you," she stood me up in front of the mirror and made me give her a twirl, "Very, very nice... You look like a cheap whore, and I have to say, it suits you. You are wasting this body of yours on trying to look like a man!"
I said nothing, just looked, and tried to pretend I did not like what I saw. The problem was not how I looked, but my wife's obvious enjoyment of the exercise, and my imminent introduction into polite society.
My stockings finished below the hem of the skirt, the suspender straps disappearing underneath tantalisingly. I would not be able to bend over without showing my ass cheeks, the skirt was that short. I hung the tacky red handbag that Jo had found from somewhere over my shoulder.
She picked up her things and headed for the door, "I'm going to drop you off in town so that I know you haven't disobeyed, and I want to see the things you bought when I come back at lunch time. So hurry up."
Town
I stood and watched her car until it turned a corner. It was an hour long walk from here back to the house, there was no chance that I could go back, change, and return to shop in time. She had left me with close to the exact amount I needed, certainly not enough to save time by using the bus or a taxi. I swallowed and looked hesitantly about me. No one appeared to be looking at me at the moment, but that could change dramatically.
With a deep breath, I set off into the shopping centre; my heels clicking, the cold wind chilling my bare shoulders, my eyes down. As I got closer, it got busier. After a few minutes, I heard whistles and cat calls from some workmen, and wanted to just disappear. I began to become aware of lingering looks from the men I passed, and disgust from the women.
To begin with I was humiliated, but then felt a strange pride developing in me. These men were looking at me, in front of wives and girlfriends. So what if the women felt disgust; fuck them, they were jealous of me. I found myself swinging my hips more, my shoulders less stooped. I watched the expressions on passers by, and let my eyes meet some of the more blatant men – a little smile played over my lips as one looked straight at me. He almost walked into a newspaper stand as he watched me.
My cold body felt invigorated. I relished the power I had over these weak men. I flicked my hair, licked my lips, and walked on.
The shop assistants fell over themselves to help me and I flirted unabashedly with them. This was easy. I wished I had done it before. Looking at the men vying for my attention, I began to think of the feeling of the plumber's big cock filling me, the taste of his precum, and felt lust begin to grow within me.
Last Stop
I walked into the last shop, a small hardware store, and saw my best opportunity to flirt yet. It was empty but for the owner, sitting reading the sport section of a particularly low brow tabloid. I walked up to him, watching him look me over in detail; he was a fairly large, middle aged man. I checked my watch; I still had a few moments to make him squirm.
"Can I help you?" he asked, sitting forward and putting down the paper.
I gave a coy laugh and let my body language speak volumes, "I always need help, I am hopeless in a shop like this. I always get the wrong thing, and my husband has to bring it back."
His eyebrows rose at the word husband. He looked me over again, and seemed to relax even further. He stood up and walked around the little counter towards me, "Well then, what does your other half want? I'm sure it'll be in here somewhere."
Turning my body toward him, I flicked my hair and smiled, "You'll have to look at my list, I will probably read it wrong," as I went to hand it to him, I let it fall down, then seductively bent down, pivoting at the hip with my back to him. I knew that he saw my ass and thong clearly. I handed him the piece of paper, thrilling as my small hands were almost engulfed in his. He did not pull them back quickly, and neither did I.
He looked at the list, and then at me. He spoke slowly, confidently, "I've got something that you need that isn't on this list."
I was completely taken aback, he was responding rather quicker than I imagined to my playful advances. A look of panic shot across my face, and I just managed a nervous laugh.
"I get the feeling that you need something from this shop that you can't get at home," he continued, he had moved quite close, but now moved towards the door. He locked it.
My fear was now impossible to conceal, "What are you doing? I have to get going quite soon."
He walked towards me, and I felt his presence loom over me. I suddenly became aware of the signals I was sending out with my dress and actions. It was only a matter of time before I met a man who would act on the lust I was teasingly arousing in them.
"Please don't," I begged, shrinking away from him.
"Oh, you know you want it, and so do I," he grabbed my hands and held them together in one of his, I pulled away, struggling, but he easily dragged me into the storeroom. I did not scream, just whimpered. "You want a big cock inside you, and mine is aching to get into your cunt."
He pulled me close to him, a hand groping over my body, "Please stop, please? I'm on my period," for a moment he paused, but then forced a rough kiss on my red lips.
"There're lots of other things you can do for me," he breathed into my mouth, "You are crying out for it you slut. Dressed up like a whore and throwing yourself at me."
"Please stop, my husband is expecting me home!"
"He can wait a few more minutes," he pushed me against some shelves and assaulted me, I could not stop him. His hands were all over me and I felt the fear of his discovering what was inside my underwear along with dreadful helplessness.
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Keywords: Ch., 03, Terry's, Descent,