A FEW CLICKS

Dedicated to my beautiful Mistress, Mistress Panther

The Mistress smiled to herself as she opened the door and found her errant slave standing there with a look of poorly disguised desperation on his face. He was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a good quality black shirt. The jeans, she noted, were loose fitting, perhaps to hide something.

The Mistress hadn’t seen her slave for five days, not since he had dared to say no to her. Not only had he said no, but he had walked out without permission. This wasn’t something the Mistress cared to tolerate, and for a moment she considered closing the door on his face. But just for a moment, because she had known it would only be a matter of time before he came back, a broken man. What would happen next would be fun.

"Well?" said the Mistress as she regarded the man. It was late in the evening and she was wearing a long silken dressing gown that reached almost to her ankles. It was firmly belted around her slim, curvaceous waist, but open just enough for the slave to be able to admire the firm swell of her breasts. The Mistress had long dark hair, full lips, and an almost aristocratic way of moving.

"Please..." said the slave, "it has to come off. Please..."

The Mistress raised an eyebrow curiously, pretending for a moment that she didn’t know what he was talking about. She shrugged her shoulders and moved to close the door.

"Please, no, wait! I’m sorry I walked out like I did! Please, don’t close the door."

The Mistress knew her slave. She knew he had come here tonight to make a demand of her, but as always he seemed incapable of standing up to her in the flesh. "I told you not to come here in future unless you were appropriately dressed. You refused to wear what I ordered you to earlier this week and you left. Unless circumstances have changed..."

"Yes! They’ve changed." It was easy to read the desperation in his eyes, though secretly the Mistress hadn’t expected him to break quite so soon. She had guessed it might have taken another two or three days. "I’m-" his face flushed red with embarrassment. "I’m wearing... what you asked me to wear."

"Ordered you to wear," corrected the Mistress.

"Yes- ordered me to wear."

"Show me." The Mistress folded her arms.

"Out here?" The slave looked anxiously around. He was standing on her doorstep. It was dark, true, and late in the evening, but there were still people walking down the street.

"I’m not going to take your word for it."

"Please..."

"Goodbye slave." The Mistress made to close the door.

"No! Wait-" the slave quickly unbuckled the belt around his waist and unzipped the fly. Glancing around to make sure there wasn’t anyone nearby, he pulled his jeans halfway down his thighs. The Mistress could see that underneath his workmanlike jeans, underneath his masculine attire, the slave was wearing a pretty pair of frilly panties, and over these a matching suspender belt and stockings. A garter completed the set on one leg. The panties had a small slit at the front through which three quarters of a metal ring protruded. The Mistress noted that the panties contained a rather unusually large shaped bulge at the front. As she suspected, he hadn’t been able to remove the chastity belt that she’d locked him in and, after five days, he had come running back to her, driven mad by frustration.

The Mistress led the slave inside. The first battle had been won, and everything else was going to be very easy now.

"Now, what are you doing here so late in the evening?" The Mistress unbelted her long silken dressing gown and hung it from a hook. Underneath she was wearing the scantiest set of expensive French underwear that the slave had ever seen. Her luscious, sexual body was set off perfectly by this delicious wrapping. The Mistress gave no notice to the slave’s burning eyes. She acted as if it was perfectly normal for her to recline like this after a hard day at work. The Mistress sat down in her armchair and stared at her slave.

"Please, Mistress, you have to take it off. I can’t stand it any more!"

"You’re telling me what to do?" She reached for a small hand held object and clicked one of the two buttons.

"What’s that?" The slave couldn’t make out what the device was for.

"It’s a click counter," said the Mistress. "Doormen at clubs carry them to keep tally of how many people enter and leave. One button adds and the other subtracts. The running total is displayed here." She held up the small device. The LED display revealed the number nine. She clicked the same button again and it went up to ten. "That’s for asking a question without permission."

"I don’t understand..."

"It’s the number of days before you’re allowed a little relief from the belt. That is what you came to talk to me about isn’t it?" The Mistress smiled.

"Please - you have to take it off! It’s driving me insane. I can’t come; I can’t even pee standing up."

"Nor can I. I have to sit down to pee too. You think you’re better than me? You think you deserve to pee standing up?" She clicked again and the number went up to eleven.

"Please don’t do that!"

She clicked again and now the number read twelve. She regarded him quite calmly. "Are you enjoying this game? We can play all night if you like."

"Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry Mistress."

Her hand remained where it was on the controls. "That’s a little better, but we’ve still got a long way to go. Show me the belt."

The slave unzipped his jeans and pulled his silk panties down. The chastity belt remained locked firmly in place. A steel ring was set in place on the casing that encircled his penis.

"Well," began the Mistress. "The way I see it you have three choices. I suppose you could march into a police station and file a complaint against me. It’s true I didn’t ask your permission to lock that belt around you. It’s true I did it when you were firmly tied to my bed and you couldn’t stop me. I do enjoy tying you tightly. You’re so cute in full bondage. I do like the way you whimper and struggle. So yes, you could tell the police that a beautiful and cruel woman locked you in a chastity belt. I’m sure it would make for an interesting court case."

"You know I can’t do that."

"Mmm, I suppose not. What would your colleagues at work think? Well, there’s the second option. You could cut it free. Mind you, it is high quality steel, and let’s face it, you never were any good at DIY were you? No, I suspect if it’s still locked on you now then you haven’t got the faintest idea how to cut it free without hurting yourself. Perhaps you could ask one of your friends to help you? Oh, but you’re blushing again at the very thought! How sweet and submissive. Not an option then?" The Mistress was enjoying this immensely. "That just leaves the third option. You just have to wait until I unlock it for a while."

"A while?"

"Oh yes. It will go on again."

"No- you can’t-"

"That word again." The Mistress clicked the device to thirteen. "It’s a very bad word. Thirteen more days then, and when the belt does come off, your hands will be firmly tied to my headboard. Your hands are never going to be near your naked cock again, my pet. It’s your own fault for playing with yourself without permission."

The slave was close to tears now. "It was just the once."

"Twice." The Mistress clicked the counter to fourteen. "Don’t think I don’t know what you were up to in the bedroom while I lay in my bath on Saturday." The slave’s face turned ashen white. "I always know. It’s going to be difficult for you to begin with. I understand that - I really do. But you have to understand that you’re mine, and I’m not going to let you disrespect me like this." She stroked his hair. "Don’t cry. It won’t help you. You’ll be wearing that for the rest of your life. There really is no opt out clause. You’re my property. I’m not going to have it stolen from me now, am I?"

"I need to come so much..."

"Of course you do." She stroked his face. "And you’ll find that because of that you’ll soon become a better, more considerate slave. But bear in mind that that belt is my property. I’ll hold you personally responsible for any damage done to it, do you understand? If the metal ends up marked by any stupid attempt to chip away at it, I’ll simply walk out of your life and never speak to you again. Never. You’ll never hold me in your arms again or look at my naked body. Is that what you want?"

"No..." whispered the slave.

"No what?"

"No, Mistress. I don’t want to lose you." He lowered his head, submissively.

"But I’m sure you won’t be that stupid. You’re so much more compliant and pleasant to be with now that you’re locked up like this. You really were beginning to take on some bad habits before. Your problem is that as soon as you have an orgasm you grow listless and you forget what’s important in life - pleasing me. Men are lazy like that. As soon as they are satisfied, they forget to be perfectly pleasing. Obviously orgasms aren’t good for you. A good Mistress has a duty to her slave to ration his orgasms otherwise he becomes truculent and contrary."

The slave hung his head in shame. "Please, it’s been five days."

"Is that all? My, you are going to find it difficult aren’t you? It’s such a shame that I enjoy walking around in such silky underwear." The Mistress stroked her body slowly and sensuously in front of the slave. "The sight of me looking like this must be driving you wild right now." The slave nodded frantically. His sole whimper proved her right. "If just the sight of a beautiful woman dressed in expensive lingerie can affect you so much, I can barely imagine how you’re going to feel when I tie you securely to my bed tonight and force you to lick me from one orgasm to another. You love licking your Mistress, don’t you?"

The slave nodded again, his voice quavering too much to speak.

"Now-" she looked at her slave carefully. "Don’t you think that it’s a shame that such lovely lingerie is hidden away from view by such an ugly and inappropriate set of outer clothes?" She indicated the slave’s choice of jeans and black shirt. "Clothes like that won’t help you think of yourself as a submissive slave. Strip down to your stockings and panties and put on that silky dressing gown instead. Yes, I know it’s soft and pink, and very feminine, but that’s the point. And it’s such a lovely shade of pink, don’t you think?" Her finger stayed poised over the click button.

"Yes Mistress, it is..." said the slave quickly. He undressed down to his nylon stockings, suspender belt and panties and slipped into the soft fabric of the feminine gown.

"Oh, now look, you’re trembling and your little chastity belt is twitching. It’s a good job you’re firmly locked away all snug and tight. Who knows what you might try and do with yourself if you could lay your hands on that cock." The Mistress admired her slave as he belted the soft pink gown around his body. "Now isn’t that much more comfortable? I must say your legs look so much nicer now they’re shaved and clad in nylon. Give me your old clothes. Fold them up and I’ll see they go to a good home. What’s that? No of course you’re not getting them back, silly." She ruffled the slave’s hair again as he stared in dismay. "I don’t think that wearing such overtly masculine clothes will help you get over this stubborn streak. Tomorrow we’ll buy you some feminine slacks. I know a shop that will cater for your size. And a few plain blouses. Don’t be silly - no one’s going to know you’re wearing women’s trousers unless you tell them or they look particularly closely. A pair of trousers is a pair of trousers after all. Yes I know a blouse buttons up the opposite way to a man’s shirt, but that’s really only a minor detail. Would you prefer me to buy you a dress? No? Good. Then we’ll have no more arguing. Anyone would think you don’t want to get out of that belt the way you’re sulking now." She gave the counter another click and fastened a chain leash to the ring on his chastity belt. With a smile she led him on into her bedroom.

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Page last updated 02-Jan-11 by: Altairboy@aol.com