fs01 – Arc 3 – Chapter 19

Chapter 19

As we depart Mistress stops us at the changing room that I used before the VIP show.  I see a rack with a maid’s dress on it.  It’s the same colors as my normal one but with the full hem that covers my genitals and rear. A box sits on the counter, I’m guessing with the rest of the accessories.

I present my wrists to Mistress and she releases me from the jumpsuit.  I fold it and place it on the counter.  I open the box and remove its contents.  I was right.  I get dressed and when ready I present myself to Mistress for the locks and buckles.  She seals me in.  I feel a bit weird, realizing that I have come to feel safe this way.  The fur pleasure lining feels nice as well.  When we complete I kneel and kiss Mistress’s feet.  First the right, then the left.

“One more thing, pet.”
She grins and points to another box in the corner.  I open it and my heart sinks.  A pink fur muff.  This one is different.  I remove it and present it to Mistress.  She motions my arms up and I raise them.  She pulls a thick leather belt around my waist, buckling it tightly behind me.  A lock clicks.  The muff is secured around my waist.  I watch as she rolls the sides of the muff inside out revealing a small chain that is secured to the center on metal ring mounted on a leather strap.  She takes my hand and locks the chain to my wrist and repeats this with the other.  She rolls the muff back out and cinches the ends with some hidden ties.

“Try to remove your hands.”

I struggle against the chain.  I pull in every direction.  It’s stuck to me.  I can’t get my hands out or move my arms much below the elbow.

Mistress hooks her arm through mine and leads me out the door.  It snows outside.  A fresh layer of white coats the landscape.  Mistress’s car is running and the snow is already gone from the hood and windows.  She has a remote starter but usually likes to make me start it manually anyways.  Today she didn’t.

The rear gate pops and I climb inside, flopping in without the use of my hands.  We drive a ways and I feel the car slow down.  The gate opens again.  I struggle to get out of the pet carrier.  Mistress is waiting for me as the door rises, a leash in her hand.  We’re at the park.  It’s night time and empty.  I’m confused.

Mistress attaches the leash to my collar ring and leads me down the path toward a somewhat secluded area.  It’s not fully guarded but it’s not visible from the street.  My eyes dart and dash, hoping to avoid being noticed.  We are alone.  The park is silent except for the wind and the sound of our steps.  Snowflakes continue falling.  It’s quite dark out even though it’s still relatively early.  Clouds block the stars.

A gust of wind blows and scatters my breath in front of me.  A light ahead of us.  A bench under it.  Moments later we are right in front of it.  She wipes the snow off a section with her gloved hand.

“Sit, pet.”  I take a seat.

Mistress removes a pair of ski goggles from her pocket and pulls them over my face.  The lens has been blacked out, I can’t see.  She secures the wide elastic band snugly around my head.  I hear a rattle below me.  She tugs at my boots. A pair of clicks.  She chains me to the bench.

“I have to run an errand pet that needs the trunk.  Wait here, I will be back soon.”  Her hand caresses my cheek.  I lean into it.  My cheeks flush red.  I’m scared but I trust her.

I hear Mistress’s footsteps crunch away under the fresh snow.  A few moments later I test my bonds again.  The chain holding my wrists together is so short and quite secure.  The design on the inside prevents me from sliding them in either direction and the ends are cinched tightly.  The belt is very tight and holds it firmly in place, I can’t raise or lower my hands more than an inch or two.

The way that my ankles are chained has the chain around the bench post mounted into the ground.  I can sit comfortably but I can only extend one leg at a time.  I’m going nowhere.  The goggles block my vision completely.  I wiggle my head a little trying to shake them free.  They too are going nowhere.

I slump back on the bench.  The night is quiet, the air is brisk.  I move my feet and enjoy the faint crunching of snow beneath them.  The cool air creeps across my skin.  I like my lips and feel the moisture evaporate.  My cheeks tingle a little.  I shiver.  The cold finds the exposed skin above my stocking tops.  This is the full hem dress but it’s far too short to cover everything and the air easily penetrates its opening.  My sex begins to shrink, contracting against the chill.  I rub my thighs together.  I hope Mistress will not be long.

Distant crunching disturbs the still night air.  The wind whistles through the nearby trees.  The crunching comes closer.  Mistress is back.  I perk up.  I smile.

“What do we have here?  A little sissy all alone and unattended… a little flirt, too.”

My body tenses and my face instinctively falls blank.  I don’t know this voice.  The voice doesn’t sound evil.  It doesn’t sound kind either.  I sense, “intent.”

I feel the bench shift next to me.  She’s sitting near me.  She slides and presses up against me.  I feel her thigh against mine, her breast against my arm.  I feel a hand on my opposite shoulder and her arm slowly closes around my back.  I let out a small whimper.  My body quakes a little.

“Shh, there.”  I feel her finger press to my lips.

“You can’t see can you?” she asks, slyly.  I remain silent.  I lower my head.  I imagine she’s moving her hand in front of my face or something similar.

A finger on my nipple.  Traces, taps.  Fingers squeeze.

“Nnnah.”  That’s all I can muster.  She giggles, continuing to play.  I blush.  I feel my penis swell.

Her breath on my cheek.  It’s warm.  I hear it clearly.  I swallow.  Breath… breath… breath… The scent of her hair.  It’s sweet.  I feel something moist on my cheek.  She licks a path from bottom to top and laughs.  She blows across it.  I feel a chill and the fine hairs on my face all begin to stand.  I’m trembling.

Her lips graze the same patch of skin.  Her breath is warm.

“What I could do to you…” she whispers, continuing to work on my nipple.

My penis stands on its own.  The dress rises, exposing more skin.  Chill.  I close my legs, instinct.  She’s violating me.  Mistress please come back.

She releases my shoulder and retrieves her arm.  The fur on my collar brushes against the back of my neck as she moves.  I feel her shift.  Her arm on the front of my shoulder.  She mounts me.  My wrist chains rattle quietly in my feeble attempts to struggle.  Her body warms my freezing thighs.  I feel her heat.  She’s burning up.  Her lips touch mine.  Teasing.

Her fingers on my nipples.  A light pinch.  A gentle squeeze.  A twist.  I feel my sex press against her through the front of my dress.  She twists harder.  I open my mouth to moan.  Her lips press hard over mine, her tongue pressed firmly into my mouth.  She hungers.  I’m dinner.

Her kisses continue.  Deep.  Wet.  Forceful.  Her hips grind on top of me.  A chill, new, colder.  I’m dribbling.  My nipples.  I squirm.  Her lips over mine.  Grinds.  My brain goes blank.  Thoughts are eaten by desires.  More.  Please more.  Our sexes are so close together.  I lust.  She grinds harder, pressing down, forcing the dress against its head.  I moan through the kiss.

I want her to take me.  Do anything.  I raise my hips.  She giggles.  Grind, grind, grind, and stop.  She dismounts.  Her fingers release my nipples.  I hear the rustling of fabric on itself.

The flex of the bench.  She slides and presses against me once again.  I gyrate my hips, trying to build any kind of friction.  Her fingers close on my jaw and pull.  I open my mouth.  She jams her fingers in.  Something else.  I taste her sex.  Her panties slowly expand in my mouth.  She forces it shut and holds her hand over my lips.  I can smell her juices on her fingers.  I taste them in my mouth.  She taps my lips with her hand.  I nod.

Her fingers close in again on my nipple.  Pinch, press, twist, pull.  My thighs open and close with the rhythm.  I feel the cold directly on my sex.  The touch of leather.  Her fingers close around it.  I moan out my nose.  It squeezes and pumps.  I feel another drop on my leg.  Faster.  Firmer.  Faster.  I slouch against the bench.  Faster.  I thrust my hips with her hand.  Faster.  My brain spins.  I open my mouth and let out a muffled moan.  My feet shift to their toes, I tilt my head back.  A long moan.

Nothing.  Her hands release.  I can feel the blood pulsing.  I shake my hips.  Don’t stop.  I whimper.  Don’t stop.  Please don’t stop.  I groan.
“Don’t stop.” I finally find my voice.  Her finger presses against my lips again.

Her breath.  Her face is near mine again.  “Someone’s been a very naughty boy.”  She rises from the bench.  I hear her steps crunch away against the snow.

A voice.  “Device 87, retail.  Final test.  Test result, success.  Conclusion, retail ready.  I’ll see you tomorrow, one.”

I wait a while.  I’m still turned on.  Something feels off.  Impure.  I was molested.  My legs close.  I’m cold.   Minutes pass.  I shiver.  Mistress, where are you?  I hear the rhythm of steps and the crunching of snow.  My body tenses.  The goggles lift.  It’s Mistress.  I smile.  Her eyes look cold.

“What have you been up to, pet?”
I remain silent and lower my head.  My face is red.  She takes a small mirror from her purse and holds it in front of my face.  It’s covered in lipstick prints and smears.  She presses a button on her phone.  I hear the playback of rustling and moans.  My words ring clear: “Don’t stop.”

I sniffle and cry.  Mistress bends down and unlocks 1 end of the ankle chain.  She pulls it from around the bench post and reconnects it with the lock.  She turns and yanks on the leash.  I stumble forward.  Her pace is fast and deliberate.  I struggle to keep up.  The chain rattles and drags, plowing snow off the concrete as it drags along.  We return to the car and she shoves me in the back, departing without a glance.

The drive home is silent.

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