A Week as a sex slave: Tuesday (cont. 3)  

enslavednymph 39F
266 posts
9/2/2005 7:02 am

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

A Week as a sex slave: Tuesday (cont. 3)

Sepping back inside, I found the my mistress had laid out clothes and lists on the kitchen table.

"We have got to get the paint today. How hot is it going to be?"

I had no idea. "I don't know, mistress. Shall I check the weather quickly?"
"Do that, honey. I'll finish down here. Be ready to go in a minute."

I headed upstairs to the computer. After typing in weather.com, I hit the bathroom for my own morning routine, consisting of brushing my teeth, my hair, and rolling on a little deodorant. Weather had loaded by the time this was accomplished. A zip code gave me current conditions and a prediction for the rest of the day. Information fresh in my mind, I headed back downstairs to my instructions. To my surprise, mistress was wearing a passably normal pair of shorts (jean shorts cut-off just below the butt) and a tight white t-shirt. Her breasts looked even more enormous with the shirt clinging to them, then clinging to her well-defined abs.

"Are we ready?"
"What am I to wear, mistress?"
"The clothes on the table, of course. Hurry up now, we have lots to do."

I looked at the TINY pieces laying on the table and gave an inaudible whimper. A brownish spaghetti strap top and a black lycra pair of shorts, both of which looked 4 sizes too small for me. I picked up the top and striggled into it, finding that it was barely large enough to cover my tits. The bottom of the shirt barely came to rest on my stomach, maybe an inch below the bottom of my boobs. The top dipped down so far that, if I wasn't careful, my nipples were going to show. The material was such that my nipples showed anyway, as they stand regularly at attention. The shorts were, if possible, even smaller. While I am not a big girl, I do have some curves. These shorts were not made for curves. I struggled, excusing myselfto the living room so that I could lie down and wriggle. When they finally came up over my hips, I felt like my middle was sucking into itself.

Standing up, I felt another sensation: a breeze over a part of me that should be covered. Investigating, I noticed a hole in the crotch, right below my pussy. It was normally unnoticeable, but the sensation had given it away to me. Between the mornings encounter with Mary and these extremely small clothes, I was getting worked up again. I could feel my pussy getting hotter...

"Get them on, did you?"
"Yes, mistress."
"Good. Lie on your back."

Afraid of where this was going, I did as I was told. Mistress moved my legs wide apart and stared with a satisfied grin.

"I was afraid it was going to be too small, but it looks just right. Hardly can tell, unless you are looking..." She took a finger and ran it across my exposed pussy lips, causing me to arch my back in frustration. God, I was getting hot! She leaned forward and probed me with her tngue, making me even wetter. A minute or so of this and she leaned back, sucked on a finger, and thrust it inside of me. I bucked toward her, wanting more of it inside me. She then sucked on two fingers, then three before pushing them into me.

"You are hot, aren't you."
"Yes, mistress."
"These shorts, they fit you so well. You can see the exact shape of your body. Its so sexy. And that shirt... I can visualize your breasts. Nice and round and supple..." Her talk was just making me hornier. "And whats this? She slipped a finger beneath the shorts and into my ass. a quick probe and she removed it, causing a small stream of cum to pool.

"Stand up." she ordered. Frustrated, I stood, and to my horror, I felt a flood of cum run out of my ass, down the very inside of my thigh, and begin dripping out of the hole in my shorts.

"Very nice." mistress said. "Did I make you horny?"
"Yes, mistress."
"My apologies, dear. Do not worry. We'll soon remedy this."

She led the way out to the car, me feeling self-concious all the while. The top on the Sebring was already down, so we climbed in and headed out. The shirt seemed to have grown tighter since I put it on, and my nipples were straining against the fabric.

A Wrangler with what looked like college kids pulled alongside us as we headed down the exressway, yelling and whistling at the two "hot babes." While mostly yelling obcenities, a particularly insistent prick in the back ordered that we take of our shirts.

"Do as he says, dear." I heard my mistress say. Shocked, I gaped at her, uncomprehending, for a long moment.

"You heard me."
"All the way off?"
"Maybe just flash them to start with.

Embarrassed, I unbuckled my belt and turned toward them. With the sexiest smirk I could muster, I toyed with my already erect nipples for a moment. The boys shut up and simply stared. Reaching beneath the tiny top, I grasped the edges and lifted it up and over, letting by breasts cascade out. Gping stares were my reward.

"Thats enough dear, sit down."

I did as I was told and rebuckled my belt. The Jeep stayed with us for a bit, but said nothing else.

We turned off too soon for the paint store, and I was immediately wary. We were headed toward master's office. Sure enough, we pulled in 10 minutes later and headed toward the 3rd floor of the warehouse.

Master owns a string of packing and storage warehouses across the region. His office sits on a quarter of the top floor of one in downtown. We walked in to find the blinds already drawn and the "Knock first" not on the door. I had been set up.

"Strip!" was the order before I had even really entered the room. I almost struggled out of the top when mistresses voice said, "No. Stay." Unsure of what to do, I put the shirt back down. A quick exchange followed between master and mistress in hushed tones, and when they tuned back to me, master wore a wicked grin.

"Stay clothed" was the order.

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