The Teenage Dominatrix Ch. 04
Stephen,
Please find a present from me to you. I hope you like them as they are yours now. You are to wear them to work today, and you must send me pictures which show you wearing them when I ask for proof. You are to come to our house at 5pm. We are having an earlier tea because Auntie is out at a party working.
Victoria.
Stephen unfurled the garment on his bed. The silky black polka-dot thong with white lacy trim and a pink bow on the top were obviously female, and he groaned at what he held. They were soft, but cross-dressing was not in his list of fetishes or fantasies. It had never interested him.
He showered and brought the soft material to his hips. He pressed his cock against the silky fabric and the gentle caress of his manhood brought an erection, stretching the front of his new underwear. The thin strip pressed between his arse crack and moved as he settled the waistband in a comfortable position. He took a selfie, cropping his face from the picture, and sent it to Victoria as "proof" before getting dressed and catching a bus to work.
He felt the roughness of his trousers on his buttocks and the wispy sensuality of the thong on his cock. He panicked that if he was in an accident, the hospital would see his unsuitable underwear choice, but he reasoned that hundreds of people turn up in Accident and Emergency every year with weird objects stuck in a bodily orifice so the doctors had probably seen worse than a pair of polka-dot panties around the waist of a teenage geek.
Victoria demanded three photographs during the day, and each time he snuck into the disabled toilet and used the full-length mirror to show the underwear around his waist.
She sent a smiley emoji in return. But the constant feel of the female panties around his groin, the reminders from Victoria meant the realisation that he was cross-dressing at work never strayed from the centre of his attention.
Every time he moved in his seat, he readjusted his shirt to make sure that no-one could see the lacy trim of his panties. He had never been so paranoid about anyone seeing his underwear.
On the way to Victoria's home, he stopped at the supermarket and bought two big bouquets of flowers and a four-pack of the fruit cider that the female dominatrix favoured.
Anne-Marie greeted him warmly at the door and welcomed him into her house. "This bouquet is for you. Thanks for looking after me and running me home. Appreciated."
"Oh, you shouldn't have," the buxom lady exclaimed. "Oh, they are lovely. And I spoke to Dave, who owns the bike store. He's picked up your bike today, and he's coming next Friday with it done. Easily repaired. The driver will pay costs."
"Thanks," Stephen cried.
"I need you to write down all the costs you have incurred too. So that's the clothing he damaged, the public transport tickets, all that. OK?"
"OK."
"He's paying for that as well," she said with a grin.
"Thanks."
"No problem." Anne-Marie shouted up the stairs. "Victoria, your guest is here. And I thought we'd eat outside as it's a beautiful day."
"Sure," the teenager replied as she bounded down the stairs, in a sullen tone, and rolled her eyes when Stephen presented her with a bunch of flowers. "Why?"
"Last night. I was still shaking an hour later. That was incredible. It's a thank you, for the most fantastic out-of-this-world experience. And being an amazing... person."
She lowered her voice. "Listen, you dumb ass. I am blackmailing you for my fun. You don't get your torturer flowers, you stupid twat."
"You aren't torturing me. I trust you."
"Then you are more stupid than you look. I'm doing this to make you squirm and for my enjoyment. Not yours."
"I got you some cider as well."
"You will pay for this. Tonight." She warned as she snatched the flowers and the alcohol, and stormed into the kitchen. Anne-Marie had prepared a chicken salad with tapas and set the table outside with a buffet of food.
Victoria added fruit juice and frozen berries to a blender to make two litres of deep magenta smoothie, that she decanted into a jug and took outside.
The evening was warm and pleasant; Anne-Marie was talkative, and she spoke sociably to Stephen. The surprise of her niece arranging for him to come for tea had not shown, who sulked as she ate and drank the dark red drink.
At the end of the meal, Anne-Marie rose from the table. "I need to get ready, can you two clear up, please?" Victoria nodded and reached for Stephen's empty plate. She caught his half-full cup of smoothie and spilt it over his pale shirt and trousers.
"Oh, I am sorry!"
"Victoria," Anne-Marie exclaimed. "That'll stain."
"I know. OK, get them off now. I'll put them in the wash." Her eyes met Stephen's who slowly shook his head.
"I'll wash them when I get home."
"Oh, don't be so silly," she cried. "I've seen you in your underwear, don't be a prude. I can wash them and stick them in the tumble-dryer. It'll be done in three hours."
Anne-Marie sighed. "She is right, I'm afraid. That'll stain if you don't."
Victoria walked around to Stephen and yanked at his trousers, causing the garment to fall to his ankles and expose his polka-dot thong. She sniggered, and Anne-Marie glared at her. "Sorry, a little unexpected. But, hey, while we are waiting, that's something we can explore. Upstairs, in your cupboard."
"Victoria, a word," Anne-Marie sniped.
"Oh, Auntie. He knows. And before you get judgemental and shout at me, those flowers are because I spanked him. We are eighteen, we're allowed to experiment with sex and BDSM. Me, especially. And he is allowed to like it. If he wants to explore his feminine-side, then I will happily help him tonight. Especially as he has to stay here while he washes his clothes. I feel so guilty."
Anne-Marie shook her head. "I am sure you have set something up here. We will discuss this another time. You better not be offering dominatrix services to your classmates. As for tonight, safe, sane, consensual. Understand?"
Victoria sighed. "Yes! Honestly, it's like living in a nunnery." She glanced at her watch. "You better hurry or you'll be late, won't you? We'll clear up."
Victoria smiled at Stephen as Anne-Marie scurried from the garden. "Payback, tonight. Get those clothes off and get them in the wash. Then you are going to clear up, get me a drink, and we are going to the dungeon. I have plans."
Stephen gulped and removed his shirt and trousers under Victoria's withering gaze. She instructed him to leave the polka-dot thong on, and she sat back in the chair as the embarrassed teenager cleared the table of dirty dishes, and stacked them in the dishwasher. He wiped the worktops clean and then poured a can of Victoria's fruit cider into a glass tankard.
She scoffed when he passed her the drink. "Why isn't this in a can?" She asked and pointed to his clothes. "Get those in the wash."
He returned a few minutes later, and when he sat down next to her, she snorted. "On the grass. While I finish my drink."
Anne-Marie interrupted their conversation when she left the house, and Victoria drained her cider. She escorted Stephen to the playspace in the old master bedroom.
He had a sharp intake of breath as he looked around the kinky room. Victoria opened the cabinet in the bathroom and placed an electric razor and electric clippers on the sink. "What are they for?"
Victoria didn't answer. She plugged the clippers into the wall socket and gestured for him to approach her, which he did gingerly. "I need you to be hairless," she told him as the clippers touched his back. "You aren't that hairy anyway, and I will not mess about with waxing or cream. This is a quick way of doing that."
"But only girls shave there," he argued as she pulled his arm above his head and she clipped his armpit hair to a number one grade. Victoria ignored him and he didn't move as she stripped him of her underwear and trimmed every hair below his chin.
They chatted amicably as she trimmed his body hair, and she was diligent as she worked on his skin. She changed to the razor which tickled, as it cut and removed the hair from his body. She deliberately giggled as she pressed the foil against his balls and wiped the band of stubbly fuzz at the top of his cock to a memory. Twenty minutes earlier, it had been a burgeoning mass of brown curls. She smiled as he stroked his mons, his legs and his chest, admiring the smoothness of his skin.
"It feels like a bodybuilder," he said. She laughed loudly at his comparison; Stephen was miles away from possessing a body of rippling muscle and toned flesh.
When she had completed her exercise, she pushed him towards the shower in the en-suite. When he came back into the dungeon with a towel around his wet body, Victoria had swept the hair from the floor, and was sitting in the wide-backed chair with a camera.
"Let's get started," she mused, and drank from a can of cider. He nodded and got up from the chair and selected a black garment from the table. He gulped. "Get that towel off you," she snapped and waited for him to fold it on the towel rack.
Victoria chose the racy lingerie to humiliate. The nightie slipped over his head and was a sheer, lightweight mesh that showed his hairless cock and rapidly growing erection. The top of the garment around the bosom was a lined with a bushy feather edge that tickled his freshly shaved chest.
"This is..."
"Oh, turn around for me." Victoria picked up her camera and snapped the teenager with her expensive Digital SLR. "Smile... push your buttocks out... Blow me a kiss... Lift the hem of your nightie, baby. Show me love..."
Victoria demanded, Stephen complied, without complaint as she directed the photoshoot to take several dozen comprising photographs of the eighteen-year-old.
The next outfit was a bright red, flared skirt and a matching crop top. "This is cheerleader stuff," he asked, looking in the mirror and seeing the logo across his abbreviated top.
Victoria nodded. "Yeah, don't forget the socks. Put your trainers on. Some of Anne-Marie's clients loved to be feminised, so she has a nice stock of humiliating outfits. That one, we stuck on a radio DJ two weeks ago and Anne-Marie pegged him. He loves being the girl."
"What Radio DJ?"
"That's confidential," she replied, and threw a couple of pom-poms at him. "Now downstairs."
"I can't go out, like this. It's..."
"Be grateful I am not putting a bow in your hair or the fake boobs on you. Downstairs!" Stephen stepped gingerly into Victoria's back garden and she forced him onto the grass. "Now star jump!"
As Stephen jumped in the air, the short skirt rose and his cock flopped with the movement that Victoria demanded. The dominatrix caught everything on camera - the seductive poses, the sultry kisses, the energetic dances and the athletic stretches. She taunted him, teased him, and laughed at him.
Stephen's reaction to this torture was clear. His burning cheeks could not disguise his lust at her sadistic control.
She told him to strip in the dungeon and smiled as she took a black lace garter belt and fastened it around his waist, tightening it until he squealed. He complained, and she ignored his protestations. "Arms up," she ordered, and put a silky French Maid's dress over his head. "Anne-Marie has had this for years. It's ideal, as it's sort of designed for flat-chested girls," she said.
"I am not a flat-chested girl," Stephen moaned as Victoria tugged the dress to just below his buttocks. The sexy off-the-shoulder garment was a stereotypical maid's uniform. She held an old pair of laddered black stockings and put his right foot through it.
"You are," she teased. "But you're my flat-chested girl!"
"I can't wear this!"
Victoria picked up her phone from her pocket and pressed a couple of buttons. She showed him her social media profile that showed Stephen in her garden as a cheerleader. "I can set the visibility of this post to Public or I can keep it as Private, for the moment. Your call." Stephen shifted in his seat and moved his hand to cover his semi-erect cock. He gave a brief nod, and she rolled the thin noir stockings to his thighs and fastened them with the straps from the garter belt.
He baulked when Victoria put a black choker around his throat; a bell hung loosely and rang as he moved his body. A cheap blonde wig, with itchy hair that tickled his back, completed his outfit.
"I hate it," he moaned as he looked in the mirror. "I look ridiculous."
"I know," she teased. "But be grateful there is no makeup and no high heels. But you have a job to do. I want the entire house vacuuming, you can put some more washing on, clean the surfaces, dust and..." She giggled as she spoke. "... And clean the windows."
"Oh, no!"
Victoria held out her phone. "Oh yes! Tonight you are my sissy maid!"
Stephen blushed as the words smashed into his eardrums, and his bell rattled as she led him downstairs to Anne-Marie's housekeeping box. "Polish. Window cleaner. Duster," She called out as she pointed in the metal box. "Vacuum cleaner is there. Off you go."
Victoria retrieved a canvas bag of dirty clothes from her room. "And no sniffing, or wearing my panties," she said with a smack of Stephen's buttocks. "I know what you sissy girls are like." She snorted, photographed him cleaning the windows in the kitchen, and sat in the lounge with her book and a can of cider.
Stephen's body burnt with humiliation. He could see himself in the mirrors around the house and his cheeks blistered with shame. If any of his family or friends saw him like this, he would be morbidly embarrassed, and Victoria's constant teasing about him being a "sissy" or a "girl" was just fuel to his lust.
Victoria being nasty, and torturing him, made him horny, and caused his cock to stir. He loved her sadistic nature, and the unexpected smacks of his buttocks as he cleaned the lounge or the reminders of what he was wearing and doing was a tonic to his arousal.
The silky, cheap fabric rubbed against his skin and his cock. He felt the smoothness of the stockings against his freshly shaved flesh and enjoyed the luxurious feel of the material.
"Don't forget the windows in here," Victoria reminded him, and he pleaded with her. His desperate beseeching only made the dominatrix more resolute, and she dragged him outside to clean the glass from the exterior of the property.
Stephen was fully erect. He hated every moment of that display, but the wild cackling of Victoria, and the mental image of dozens of strangers giggling and laughing at him, was a humiliating situation. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he wiped the lounge windows clean and she photographed him. "This is so going onto my Tumblr. Or my Insta!" She teased. "Smile! Ahh is the sissy getting a little stiffy? That's so cute."
Once all the windows had been cleaned, inside and out, the carpet vacuumed, the floor mopped, the surfaces dusted and the clothes washed, Victoria took him back upstairs. She tossed the old stockings in the bin, and the outfit went in a laundry basket.
"Here," she tossed and threw him a pink dancing leotard. "Wear that."
Stephen was no longer embarrassed about nudity in front of Victoria, but the spandex garment was tight on him and showed the outline of his cock through the thin material. He blushed as she ran a finger along it and passed him his phone, keys and wallet. "Come with me."
"What?"
She led him to the front door and pushed him outside. She sniggered as he stood on her doorstep in just a leotard. "Payback!" Victoria added triumphantly. "I know you hated tonight."
"Why do you think that?" He asked.
"Because, there is nothing in your stories or porn stash around men cross-dressing. I know it's not one of your fantasies. There's no interest there. Right? Being a sissy isn't for you."
"No, there isn't. But I have got to spend the evening with you, exploring my sexuality. I still don't like cross-dressing much, but I've enjoyed tonight. It's time with you, pushing my boundaries. And now I know that being a transvestite isn't for me. But I do love being controlled, I think. So thank you."
"I humiliated you, numbnuts."
"Did you? You sure about that?"
"Yes!" Victoria squealed.
"I make that task four, correct?"
"Yes," she snapped.
"Excellent. See you tomorrow?" He asked, and she slammed the door.
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