A Cock in the Hand Ch. 04 - Sex Stories

A Cock in the Hand Ch. 04

... morning.

"No sir, I look forward to giving you my cherry this morning," I said, less than enthusiastically.

"What's in your hand, CC?"

I unwrapped it and showed him. "It's my dildo, sir. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to bring it, so I wanted to--"

"You liked it that much?" he interrupted, with a chuckle. "Good thinking, CC, but we won't be needing that today. You'll be taking something a little hotter today, my friend. By the way, I have a little something for you through the second door on the right down there. I'm gonna need you to put it on for me and bring the goodie bag with you when you come back."

The door led to a guest bedroom. On the bed was the familiar black leather gym bag he had the day before, that had the dildo and lube in it. I placed the dildo in the bag and observed the rest. On the bed, was a pair of thigh-high black stockings and a garter belt, laid out as if forming the outline of a body. Above it, was a red spandex-like T-Shirt, with what looked like the outline of a limp cock and ball sack with a large CC inside it. The topper to the outfit was a spandex mask that looked like something out of a Mexican wrestling program.

My heart sank. "Please don't..."

"You're not going to insult me by not appreciating my gift, are you?" he said, standing in the doorway with his left shoulder leaning against the door frame.

I could see the spatula dangling in his right hand. "No, sir. Thank you for the outfit," I said, with an obvious lack ...

... of enthusiasm.

"A uniform fitting your stature is a must, my friend. Remove your clothes, put on your new uni and bring that sweet ass and the goodie bag back to the living room, please," he said, as he pulled the door closed, and left me to my humiliation. "Oh yeah, don't procrastinate, I have a job interview later this morning," he added, with a muffled voice.

I stared momentarily, once again, in disbelief. When would this nightmare end! Then I snapped out of it, and did as commanded. I took off all my clothes except my briefs. It somehow seemed to help deal with the fact my dick was semi-engorged, to know it would not be so obvious when he saw me.

Unfortunately, as I pulled the stockings up my legs, the feel of them only made matters worse. As I clipped the garter belt to the top of the nylons, I had a sudden flashback to the rocky horror picture show, feeling like Tim Curry.

There was a dressing mirror on the closet door, and as I saw my pathetic reflection staring back at me, I could not believe it was real. It was impossible to believe. I stood there in black stockings and somehow-matching black briefs, wearing the skintight, red spandex tee, and the freakish, red-and-black wrestler's mask.

My mind was numb. What was happening was all beyond imagination, period. The images of what laid ahead danced through the fog in my head. There I was, on my knees while Mark--fucking--Thomas, throat-fucked me with his open, terry-cloth robe waving away, and his hand on ...