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Michael, don't you know I was born to turn you on?


You must, you've told me it enough times.


You've whispered it in my ear in public, making me blush and squirm as you laughed. You've growled it at me as you held me down at hit me with all your strength. You've teased me with it as I lay tied to your bed, unable to move.


And I loved it each time.


I love that I am that object for you, that toy, that serves that one singular purpose. I love that I do it so well, and that we both know I'll do it in anyway you want. I love how far you've taken me, you've pushed in that direction.


My question is, can you see beyond that?


(And do I care if you do?)


...


"No... no I can't!," I say, shaking my head. There were tears in my eyes already, just seeing what they intended. 


Michael loomed over me, as he always does. I always felt smell next to him. "No? Are you arguing? Should I get the paddle, and we can have a nice long discussion about it?" He grabbed my wrist and pulled me in.


My heard jumped. Even the threat made me more excited. 


I looked over at what the clothes they had laid out for me. I had played so many roles for them. I had been their pet, their slave, their baby, their maid. I had come out with them wearing leather vests and diapers under my clothes. However, there were still lines.


"I don't know that I want that. Not yet." I whimpered. 


Michael walked to me. He put a hand on my shoulders, and the other reached down and cupped me below the belt. I gasped. "Are you sure you don't want it, diaper boy? Your cock seems to disagree."


"I... I don't, Daddy." It sounded as fake as it felt. The truth was I longed for what they showed me, and had dreamed of it for months.


The outfit itself wasn't that far off from dozens I had worn for them before. It was a onesie, bright pink and with a heart on its chest. It came with leggings and platform shows, and bows for my hair, which had grown longer and would undoubtably be put in pigtails. My leash was beside it, the collar was on my neck, and I already wore a diaper to go with it. With it, I knew they would probably tie me, and give me a gag to keep me quiet.


I had worn the same before. What was different was what it meant today.


I felt a hand smack the back of my diaper. Sarah came around my other side with an arm on my back. "Is that true diaper girl? I think its perfect for you. I think its perfect for you to wear every day from now on."

 

"Uhhh..." I moaned. "Daddy, is she allowed to do that?" I asked as the other submissive teased me. To tell the truth, hearing someone who was herself being dominated talk down to me only made me crave more. If there was to be an pecking order, a huge part of me I was terrified of craved more then anything to be on the bottom of it.


"Yes sweetie. Remember our ranking?"


I thought back. We were both subs under him, but what we wore went beyond that. Regular clothes beat anyone cross-dressed, which beat anyone dressed as an animal, which beat, lowest of the low...


"She's also in a diaper Daddy," I said. "We're the same."


He shook his head. "Not anymore. Not when she's in her black diapers and her leather clothes, and you have your cute little printed diapies and onesie. You are the lowest here, and will still be from now on."


My mind swirled. By far the most humiliating game they had played with me was this one. It was the one thing that pushed me right to the limit, the only that still made me begin to think of saying no. Now, they wanted to take me into public, in our club with all our friends, dressed like that. More, they wanted me to live like that, to come into their home and stay like that permanently. 


My heart jumped, and I wasn't sure if it was from disgust, fear, or joy.


Michael turned me to face him directly. He put a hand on my diaper and pulled me in right next to him, and put the other on the back of my head. I looked away for a moment, but he turned me back, and for a second I thought he would kiss me.


Instead, he just stared at me with his clear eyes. My breath caught, as it always did when I looked into them.


"Are you sure sweetie? If you don't want it, you know your safety word. This can all be over now. Just say it, or let us dress you again."


I was still, but was sure I was falling deep into his eyes again. Every time they hit me it was like all the will to argue left me. I felt myself melt and fall deeply into them, like a man possessed, and he did possess me. 


The image of me going into the club, crawling in his humiliating costume, all the nervousness it brought, fell along with my willpower into his eyes.


Those eyes.


It was always those goddamn eyes.


...


Oh Michael don't you know you were born to turn me on?


That is the part I'm not sure you understand. Or, if you understand it, you understand it all to well.


It is everywhere and always to me. That feeling. That incredible, awful feeling. That arousal that is on my mind. That distracts me from work. That distracts me from relationships. That distracts me from all of life outside your impossible, clear eyes. The deep, painful knowledge that that you could get me to do anything you wanted no matter how bad I DON'T want it and the more I don't want it the more I want it because I know you want it because I don't want it and that makes me WANT it and I don't understand that. But you do, and that scares me.


I am not in love with you. I am ADDICTED to you. I am OBSESSED with you, and with your impossible clear eyes. When I see them I feel like I am possessed, and I know I am possessed by you.


I can stare at them for hours and not be sure what happened.


I am addicted to your body. The tight, lean muscles. The strong arms, able to carry me, to pull me, to hold me down, even as I struggle


(ESPECIALLY as I struggle)


The size that has you always looking down on my ever so slightly, ever so noticeably, with your clear, impossible eyes.


 I am addicted to all you do to me. All our little games, all the strange clothes, all the things I never would have done if I never had met you. And I cant stop them. I can't stop wanting them. I don't know why I want them, I SHOULDN'T want them, but by god I do.


By YOU I do. You are my god now.


And that is what I am worried you understand all to well.


There are lines I cannot cross, but I don't know what they are when I see those clear, impossible eyes.


Not ever since I first saw them, those months ago.

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  • 2 weeks later...
On 2/2/2024 at 10:07 AM, Eagle0769 said:

Good good start.

Maybe this is where I hope it goes.

Thank you! There should be more up soon. It will be a slow burn, but I promise it will go where you want :)

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I can still remember how strange the air felt the morning I first met you.


I got off the train in a city I had never seen before, hoping for a new life. I had no idea what kind of life I'd find. In fact, if you had asked me, I didn't even know this kind of life could exist.


The air I was used to was thin and clean. It blew down from the mountains and across the flat plains, smelling of the plants and leaves it passed.


Here, it felt crowded and stagnant, full of gas and oil. I walked down the sidewalk carrying my bags, moving between each crowd. The air was regurgitated, like it had been breathed too many times before coming to me.  I stopped suddenly, as a person was directly in front of me, and I avoided eye contact as we went by each other. 


He said something in a language I didn't understand, and I tried to mutter an apology that didn't come out right.


I didn't know where the bus from the airport had dropped me off. I checked my phone, and it showed a way to my new apartment. I followed it as it took me across the street.


A horn blasted in my ear, and I stopped in my tracks as a bus rushed in front of me, and splashed me with cold water. I blushed, then continued across after.


There was a staircase leading underground, surrounded by steel cage bars. I took it down. I lifted my bag as much as I could over the stair but it still hit each step.


The subway station was like something I had only seen in movies, where they were shown as cold, dirty places the characters went through when their luck ran out. Here, it was no difference, except for the crowds.


There was a toll both with iron bars stopping me from getting in. I walked up to the glass case with a guard in a blue uniform inside, reading a paperback novel.


"Hello?" I said, he didn't turn.


"Hello?!" I said louder.


He looked up from his phone. "What?" he asked.


I pointed at the bars. "How do I get in?" 


"You need a ticket."


I took money out of my pocket. "How much?" I asked.


He shook his head. "Not here, over there." He pointed behind me, and I saw a machine marked "tickets."


I blushed, and imagined he was rolling his eyes at me when my back was turned. I had heard people in the city were less polite then back home. "Thank you!" I said.


"No problem," he said, and went back to his book.


I went to the machine, and after some tries, made it inside. It was even more crowded there, and even more so on the train itself. I hugged my suitcase and long coat close, conscious of how much room I was taking up, and dreading the thought of someone pointing it out.


It was five stations until I got off. I watched as the crowd dwindled with each stop, but didn't try to sit down. I clutched everything tight and didn't move. The idea of attracting attention in this new, busy, crowded place terrified me, and not for the first time I considered quitting right away and going back.


I breathed heavily to calm myself. I couldn't go back- I knew that.


At the stop I got off and ran out of the station. I thought I heard some snickers of people I passed, I tried to ignore it.


The stop took my out to a street corner. Across from me there was a park, or what counted as one in the city- a block or two left undeveloped, with grass and trees. Beyond that, there was a line of tall cement and steel towers. It was the first time I had seen them clearly since arriving. For a second, if I squinted, I could tell myself they were the mountains I used to stare across the plains back home.


The effect didn't last long. Mountains didn't have windows. Instead, it made me realize I had been surrounded by the same the entire time. I hadn't noticed, as I was looking at the ground and the people around me. I looked up, seeing the walls around me on all sides climbing hundreds of meters into the air. 


Another difference- mountains didn't give me the same vertigo. 


I felt dizzy. I turned away from the park and the buildings beyond it and started walking back into the city toward the apartment I had rented. A group was in front of me, and I tried to step into the street, but stopped when a car honked at me. I waited and kept going.


It was all too much for me. The crowds, the buildings, the gas and the horns, it was more to process each minute then I would see in a week back home. I turned on a random corner hoping to find a less packed street, but it was more of the same. I turned into an alley, and walked down it to catch my breath. There was an entrance to a store, I went in without looking.


The space inside was dark, open, and most importantly, quiet. Soft piano music played, which was far better then the chaotic noise of the street.


It seemed to be a clothing store- some kind of high fashion. A lot of leather and odd clothes. I started shuffling around, pretending I was interested. I had figured there would be clothing in the city that was odd, but this was even stranger then I expected. A wall of underwear with lacy and ruffles, another with short skirts, some single piece outfits, a lot of leggings and vests.

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I ended up in front of a mannikin with a dress on. The dress was a light pink and white, and hung from the mannikin's shoulders on straps. It was mainly cotton, though there were shiny parts on the chest and shoulder straps I expected were plastic or real or fake leather. It was odd on its own- like a fashion meant to be odd or cute. I was sure I had heard a name for it though I couldn't place.


However, there was else odd about the cut that I couldn't quite tell. It didn't look right. Something about the shape of it was off. It hung from the mannikin's shoulders in a square shape.


I realized the shoulders were bulging out from the neck. There was another manikin beside it in a leather corset, and it had a narrower build.


"Oh!" I gasped, and put a hand to my mouth. The mannikin was meant to be male, and the reason the dress looked odd was because it was made for a man.


I looked around the store, more closely this time and without just keeping my eyes on the ground. A ton of leather clothing, a lot of clothes I would have called feminine but cut for men and clothes I would have called masculine cut for women. The one piece outfits were in fact onesies, sized for adults but made to look infantile as possible. Looking beyond that, there was an entire other wall covered in the things I would have known as fetish stuff- handcuffs, chains, collars, and long implements I assumed were for hitting people.


It was a fetish store.


I kept me hands to my mouth, and my chest fluttered. Everything inside me was turning. I had known stuff like this existed, but had never seen it in reality. Looking around it for the first time was like seeing an entirely new world, or even a series of entire new worlds. My mind spun with new, terrifying possibilities that I had never even considered.


I stared at the dress. What did it mean to me that there was a dress that would not only fit me perfectly, but was made for someone like me? It was MEANT for me, it wouldn't be wrong if I bought it for myself. I had never thought of it, and I didn't know how to react to the fact I was undeniably excited by the thought. 


I looked again at the rest. I could have someone tie me to the bed, where I would be helpless, unable to stop as they did whatever they wanted to me. That wasn't a bad thing here, but what was expected if I wanted it. Why was that exciting? (And, though I didn't notice at the time, why did I think of it as "someone" rather then "A woman?") There were animal masks and collars, there were outfits made to look childish, all things I never saw before that I could try if I wanted. A hundred walls I had never even realized were in my mind suddenly made themselves apparent, then disappeared, all in seconds, and nothing I knew or understood before mattered.

"I think you'd look good in it, you know."


"OH!" I said. I turned to the feminine voice speaking beside me. A woman, based on her nametag the store owner, dressed in a tight black jeans, a buttoned black collared shirt, and, I noticed, a leather collar with a ring, was asking. She was short, with dark brown hair, and solidly built. "Miranda," her tag said.


"I ummm..."


She stepped up closer to me and looked up at it. "I think its your size even, so if you are considering it you could take that as a sign. If not we have other sizes. What are your measurements?"


"My... measurements?"


She smiled. "Yes, for a dress."


I laughed, but quickly stopped. It was something I had never considered. "I don't know," I replied. "I haven't worn dresses before."


"Hmmm... Ok," she said. "Do you want the dress? Or to try it on."


"I," I did. However, I was scared of admitting that, and scared of why I might want to. "No thank you," I said. 


"Oh, ok, well we have other stuff. You have anything in mind? How about a corset? Or a collar?"


"I umm thanks, but I think I am good."


"I see," she said.


We stood a  moment looking at each other. I tried to maintain eye contact, but ended up looking away.

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"Hmmm... You are new here, aren't you? I thought I had met everyone in the community here." 


"I just moved here from my parent's farm."


She nodded. "That's ok farm boy." The way she said the term, though it was a normal term, sounded odd in her mouth. There was a subtle hind of humor. Almost teasing, though not quite condescending, as if she was speaking to someone smaller then herself. It was barely there, and I wasn't sure I noticed it, but it still gave me butterflies. "If you want to get to know people, we have a club where we meet. I could introduce you to some people." She paused as if thinking. She examined my face closely, then smiled. "In fact, I think I know at least one person who would REALLY like to meet someone like you. You're very cute, you know."


"Cute!?" I said. My hair stood on end and I felt my face turn deep red.


I was a man. Growing up, the idea of a man being anything close to the word "cute" was out of the question, and if someone said it to another it would probably have caused a fight. Here, however, she said it as enduring, clearly a compliment. Worse, despite myself, I found that LIKED being called it, and had no idea how to react to that.


If someone back home saw me seem to like that, it would not have ended well. Of course, my just being there would have been a problem on its own.


She laughed. "Yes, why is that a problem? Michael, my partner, would love your face."


"Michael?" I said. It was a man's name. Another man, who thought I was cute and would "love my face," and it shouldn't have felt like a good thing. This store I had turned into for relief ended up being more confusing then the city itself.


"Yes. Speak of the devil."


A bell went off behind me as the door opened. "And I shall appear," said a deep voice.


I turned around and looked at him. Tall, well dressed in a buttoned down pea coat and heavy boots, though he didn't seem to mind the cold at all. His hair was scrambled a bit, but he wore it in a way that made it appear deliberate. Everything about him spoke of confidence.


He walked toward me, and met Miranda right in front of me. She turned to face me. "Yes, this is?" She looked at me.


"Michael," I said slowly.


"What? What's your name silly."


"Ummm... Ollie. Olliver."


She giggled. "This is Ollie, and he just arrived from being a farmboy off somewhere with his parents. He's cute isn't he? He was looking at that dress there, and I think he'd have a lot of fun at the club."


He looked at me and smiled. "I think he would too. Did you liked the dress?"


"Yeeeeahhh..." I droned. I don't know if I really heard the question before I answered.


I couldn't move. I was staring up at his eyes, which I just noticed as he came closer. They were deep, and a color I couldn't describe, just inhumanly clear crystals that took in everything around them. I felt as if I was staring into a bottomless pool of impossibly clean water, staring for miles into nothing, about to sink down forever and ever and ever...


To this day I don't know what color they are, blue, grey, silver. Everytime I look at them I feel my thoughts dissolve and all memories of them fade. To me, they are sill just the clean, empty crystals, more beautiful then I thought could exist.


"I could get it for you you know."


"WHAT?!" I said, momentarily breaking out of the spell.


"I could get the dress for you if you want it but can't afford it yet. It's nothing to be ashamed of, you just moved here and will be making money too soon. Just wear it to the club."

My heart beat heavy. There was a man in front of me with those impossible eyes. He was strangely beautiful, and I had never even considered that a man could be beautiful before. And he was offering to buy me clothes. Not just clothes, a dress. He wanted me to wear a dress for him to his club, and I found I wanted the same thing. Nothing made sense.


"No, I can't," I finally blurted out. Why would he want me in a dress?


And why do I want it?


"You sure?" He shrugged and looked down at me. I was trapped by his eyes again. "That's ok. Do you still want to visit our club?"


I'd do anything to see him again. "Yes," I said.


Miranda smiled and handed me a card. It was black with gold embroidery spelling "The Possessed, A Club for All Desires. 188 Trakand Ave, top floor. Invite only." Winged demons danced around the word in the same gold.


"Thank you," I said, still reading the card. "What do I wear?"


Miranda answered. "If you are nervous about going out in kink wear or don't own anything, just wear all black."


"Ok," I blushed. "Will people see me going in?"


She smiled. She reached to a shelf and took off a mask. It was a venetian style, black with small crystals, and had feathers going to the side. "Here farmboy, wear this, and no one will know its you."


I looked at the mask. Was it a feminine style or masculine style? Did that exist for masks?


I looked back at the dress. Did that exist at all here?


"Thank you," I said and turned to leave.


"Tell them Michael invited you and they'll let you in, farmboy," he said.


I thanked him again, but didn't turn. I didn't want to risk looking at him and feeling the same things again. I left, and only noticed then that the store itself was called "The Possession Shop."


That night I lay awake in my bed for hours. It was a singly mattress on the ground in my empty bachelor apartment.


My mind spun around the thousand new things I had seen that day. The crowds, the streets, the buildings the sounds. The strange clothes, all the strange implements and toys, and the knowledge I could wear and use them if I wanted to. The visions of myself in all of them, experiencing things with people in ways I never dreamed.


But one thing that rode high and above all of them- those clear, impossible eyes.

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  • 1 month later...

"So how did you enjoy your first week of work, Oscar?"

"Olliver," I corrected. I tried to force a smile. "It was good."

The woman I was speaking to, Mrs. Jonhson, was my manager. She was middle aged, tall, and with long brown haired. Today she was wearing a long green dress.

She was also, as I had found out the first week, a legend where I worked. She had published more articles then anyone could count and won multiple awards. For me, it was a good opportunity. Though journalism wasn't the highest paying job, it covered my bills, and was something I thought I'd enjoy. More importantly to me, it gave me a chance to practice writing, so that perhaps one day I could publish something more real.

She smiled at me. "Well, you're doing alright for your first week. For next week, make sure you simplify your language. In a few months we may give you your first big story. Have a good weekend!"

"Thanks! Goodbye!" I said as she left.

I breathed a heavy sigh of releif. It had been a long day, and an even longer life. Moving to the city was exciting, but I couldn't pretend it was easy.

I had chosen this. Of course, there were reasons. It would have been easier back home, in some ways. In others, much, much more difficult.

I closed my eyes at the memories. I knew I couldn't go back, not now.

I got my coat and headed out the door. Before getting out of the building I went down thirty two floors, an fact that made me gawk when I thought of it. I was getting more used to the height of the buildings around me but still gave me vertigo. I made sure not to look up, and headed back to my appartment, where it was up another twenty five floors.

"I need to get blinds in here," I said as I opened my front door. The massive floor to cealing windows that confronted me were supposed to be a selling point, but they served less so for someone who generally never went in buildings with more then two or three floors.

"What?"

I turned around. Mary, the woman from the next appartment over, was opening her door at the same time. 

"Uhhh..." I said. "Just that I need to get blinds."

"And why are you telling me? I don't sell blinds."

"Yes but you asked what I said."


"Yes but you said it before I asked, which is why I asked."

"Oh, I wasn't talking to you, sorry."

She leaned back and looked into my appartment. "Oh, is there someone else in there? I thought you lived alone."

"Uhhhh..." I tried to think of an explanation that didn't sound insane. I gave up and went with "I was just talking to myself. I didn't realize anyone was there."

"I see," she nodded. "Living alone can get to you. Let me know if you ever want to meet up. We'll have a drink. Or..." she looked me up and down. "Do you drink?"

"I'm twenty five."

"Yes, sorry, I know, you just seem innocent."

"Why?"

"Because you're scared of looking out a window from your own appartment."

"Oh," I stared with my mouth open.


She smiled. "Sorry, just joking around. Let me know if you ever want to talk!" She walked into her appartment, and I went into mine a moment later.

I was living in a small bachelor appartment, which was the best I could afford at the time. Still, given where I was in the city it was more then I expected. Until I could get a car, or shorter work hours, living in a bigger space further away wasn't possible for me.

I hung my coat, kicked off my shoes, and slumped down on my bed. I lay for a minute, then turned to my side table.

There, standing up and facing me, was the mask I had gotten at the kink store almost exactly a week earlier. The memory came back to me, along with the invitation.

"Right," I said, and reached to grab it.


 

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  • 1 month later...


It was late, it was dark, and I was standing outside a non discript glass door, obscurbed with black paper. It didn't look like anything, but unless they had been lying to me, it was exactly where I was supposed to be. 

I clutched the mask and the card close to my chest, hoping no one saw and asked me what either was for.

I looked at my card, and checked the address, then checked the door, and checked my phone. This had to be the place.

I gave the door a tentative knock. It opened, and a man with eye shadow, lipstick, and all black clothes leaned out. He looked me up and down, saw my own all black clothes, and the mask in my hands.

"Yesss?" he said in a voice that was extravagantly salicious.

"Ummm... I have this card," I said, and showed it to him.

He raised an eyebrow. "I can see that. And?"

"Is this the right place?"

He put a hand to his chin. "Hmmm. Might be. And what if it was?" 

"I ummm..." I swallowed. I hadn't considered any questions, and tried to think of what they told me about this place. "Michael sent me," was all I came up with.

He opened his eyes wide and smiled. "Oh I see," he looked me up and down. "You do seem to be his type." I blushed. "Come in," he waved me forward.

"His... his type?" I asked as I walked in.

He laughed. "Don't worry, he isn't going through a ton of boys. You're just cute, and not quite fond of making all your own decisions, aren't you?"

"Ummm..." 


He put a hand to my mouth. "Don't worry, you don't need to answer. I'm just teasing. We get a lot of boys and girls like you, stuttering and not quite sure of what to do. They normally end up collared within a few weeks."

"Collared?"

He smiled again. "Mhmm. You know, like collard greens."

"What? Really?"

He shook his head. "Oh you are just perfect, aren't you? Go on up. Cover is..." he seemed like he was thinking. "Five dollars, until you find someone to hold your hand and take you in." He pointed to an elevator behind himself.

I paid him, then went to the elevator. 

"Should I put on the mask?" I asked.

He laughed. "Ohhh sweetie, I'm sorry. Of course you'd want someone to tell you that. Yes, put on your pretty mask if you want to, and anything else you brought. If you need to hear it, tell yourself I said so. It will look good on you."

I blushed, but put it on.

Why can't you decide yourself? Why can they tell you what to wear.

"It looks good on you."

"So you're saying I look better in a mask?" I tried it as a joke, though my shaking voice probably gave away my thoughts.

He glared. "Now now, you know what's now what I meant. You're face is nice enough, but the mask is nice too. Now head on up, Michael will be waiting for you."

I walked into the elevator.

"Thirteenth floor!" he shouted.

 I doubted it was actually the thirteenth floor. The building I had seen was far taller then that, and the card specified it was the "top" floor. It seemed much like the kind of "joke" they'd make. Still, I hit the button, and felt the elevator move up far more then thirteen floors.

The doors opened. 

At first I couldn't see anything. Dry ice smoke poured into the elvator, and everything beyond it was dark. 

Then my eyes adjusted, and I gasped. I felt my hands move to my mouth. Nevertheless, I had come to far to back away, and I stepped forward.

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  • 3 weeks later...

I had been in clubs before but had never seen anything like the interior. People danced to beat heavy music, there was a bar serving drinks, and coloured lights flashed everywhere, but that was all I could recognize.

I moved in forward. The clothes people wear wearing were like nothing I had seen. Men wearing dresses danced with women wearing jeans muscle shirts. People twirled around in skin tight leather and chains while others pulled at them. A couple, one holding the leash and the other crawling on the other end of it, moved by me. I backed away, to avoid them, and ran backward into another person. I turned to see someone in a black and blue dog mask, and appologized.

"Its ok, sweetie," someone said over his shoulder. "He isn't allowed to talk tonight."

I nodded and did my best to pretend I was used to hearing that, but from their laughter I doubted it worked. I walked toward the one familiar thing in the bulding, which was the bar.

I dodged past people in gags and costumes, as well as the people holding their leashes, and tried to tell myself they weren't all watching me as I moved through. The one thing I noticed was consistent was that about half of them, and always about half of them wore collars, and it was the other half that was watching.

I made it to the bar, and a man came up. I tried not to gasp again at him. He was wearing something simmilar to what I'd think of as a maid's dress, except the black was replaced with pink. His hair hung in pigtails, and he had a collar like the others, also in pink.

It's not just femanine, its...  The exact word to describe someone I knew was a grown adult wearing light pink, with ruffles and bows, and hair in pigtials, didn't come to mind right away.

He smiled at me. "Like my dress?" he sasheyed his skirt. "Mistress Veronica got it for me, said I could wear it as I served drinks so I can kinda sort of play at being grown up. Seemed fitting."


I could barely speak, and felt myself breathing heavily. 

I love it and its adorable and I want to be the same but why do I want it I'm a man I'm not suppsoed to want to look pretty and cute I don't want to want it but why do I want it and I HATE that I want it and did I always want it and know I wanted it because I never saw it and why do I suddenly want my hair in pigtails too I'm not a...

"Yes, its nice," I said, and he giggled.

"Thank you. You're new here, right?"

I nodded.

He smiled. "That's ok, I think you'll fit in. Are you ordering, or is someone ordering for you?"

"I..." A vision of someone ordering my drinks for me while I stood by silently went through my head. It was far more comforting then it should have been. 

I swallowed. "I'll have a beer."

"Ok, what beer?" He waved his hand down the bar to show the variety.

"Ummm..." I looked. There were half a dozen taps and a dozen more colorful cans and bottles in the fridge behind him. Where I came from, bars didn't have that much variety. "I don't know."

He laughed. "That's ok, someone will come by to order for you soon. But if you need the sissy whose serving everyone else to make a decision for you...hmmmm..." he looked behind himself and thought. "This seems to suit you. Sweet citrus ale. Tastes like candy. Find someone who can take care of you before you order something stronger, ok?" 

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3 hours ago, dmavn said:

Loving this so far.. Now if only that store was real and close to me…

LOL

They have them in most big cities, especailly in more "liberal" areas

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I blushed. I seemed to be doing that a lot recently. "Ok."

He smirked. "Its adorable how you're immedietly submissve, even to me. You'll be VERY popular here."

"Uhhh uhhh..." I could only stutter in reply.

He laughed, then reached over the bar and patted my head, and I stopped trying to answer. He took out a can, opened it, and handed it to me. I paid with a card, and turned back to the club.

The club had moved on as it was before, though I could see more of it as my eyes adjusted. There was a lot more too it then I intially thought, including cages, long couches, and bondage equpment. I had to turn sharply away as I saw someone getting spanked in a locked set of stocks, and walked in the opposite direction.

I walked around the dance floor into the quieter areas with round tables and booths around them, looking at each couple. I took a sip from my drink, it was very sweet.

I felt as if someone was watching me. It was different then when I was on the floor and thought everyone was looking at me, this was more deliberate. Instintictivly I turned my head toward the feeling, and saw them. As I guessed, they were already watching me. He was wearing a dark read suit, she was wearing a collar and a black leather corset and short skirt. Both wore masks like mine, though it did nothing to hide who he was. Even from accross the floor, even in the dark, and even behind a mask, his eyes were a dad giveaway.

Not quite the same masks. His lacked the fethaers and frills hers and mine had. I realized that meant they had to be deliberate, though I wasn't sure if it meant the femaine or submissve version.

I walked toward them, and they both smiled.

She took her mask off. "Took you long enough to find us, we were wondering when you'd notice."

I reached for my own mask, though Micheal reached for my hand.


"No, you can keep yours on if you want."

I looked at him. I tried to say something, but my mouth just hung, so I nodded. He had only suggested it, but to me it felt like a command.

He took his off. "We wore them in case you didn't recognize us from the store, and so people would know you were with us. Now that we are together its fine, but since its youre only kink thing you should keep it to fit in until we get you more. Anyway, you look pretty in it."

"Uh huh," was all I could manage.

"What are you drinking?" she asked.

I looked at my drink. "I don't know. The bartender picked it."

They both laughed, and he reached to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "The guy in the pink skirt? Of course you let him choose," he said. "Come on, do you want to dance with me?"

"Ummm..." I said, as he pulled me in.

When dancing, a man puts his hand on her wasit, she holds her's higher on him. This is because the man leads, and the woman follows. This instruction came back from years before, and fell part as he lifted my hand up and put his around my waiste.

I had never been comfortable dancing before. However, as soon as he was leading, all my anxiety left. He spun me around, pulled me in close, then leaned me back.

I looked over at Miranda, but she smiled and waved. I looked back up at Michael, and once felt the sinking feeling into his eyes.

"Are you having fun, Olliver?"

I nodded. "Mhmm."

He smiled. "I might have to come up with a new name for you. How about I just call you sweetie for now. Is that alright, sweetie?"

"Yes," I said. That's what men call...

"Good boy. Alright sweetie, why don't I get you another drink, and we can meet some people?"

"Ok," I said again. I hadn't realized my drink was empty.

"Just wait here with Miranda, ok sweetie?

I found myself standing beside her without remembering walking.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Uhhh good," I said. "Is it ok we dan..."


She waved a hand. "Yes. Michael and I have had other people with us before. I think he really likes you."

"Ok."

There was a drink in my hand. It was milky green, and smelled like black liquorish and strong alcohol. I took a sip, and coughed it back up.

They both laughed. Michael reached over and wiped my chin. "You alright? It's strong, but try it again. I think you'll like it."

I looked at the drink. The green and white swirled around, making patterns through the glass.

"Don't just stare at it, drink it!" Miranda said.

I took a sip, and this time it was more digestable.

There were other people around us.

"He's cute," a woman in a bird shapped mask said. She was holding a leash that connected to another person beside her, in a full headed mask.

"He is," they said. "What do you think he'd be most into?"

"Hey, Olliver," another stranger said. "What do you think you'd be more like? A pet?"

What, like a dog? Or do they justwant me on a leash?

"Ummm..."

"I think he'd look best in a pretty dress."


A DRESS?! Why do they keep talking about me like I'm a girl?

"Perhaps a baby."

A BABY!?!?!?

"Maybe. He definitly is cute. Baby girl?"

YES!

"What?" I said out loud.

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"A baby girl," the person speaking shrugged. "It's probably one of the furthest people go, but some have a lot of fun with it.

Why yes?

My face was red. Cute!? What kind of man is called cute?  Still, despite myself, I loved hearing it. We had attracted a small crowed of people I assumed were Michael and Miranda's friends, and all the focus was on me. They took turns suggesting outfits and roles, and it shocked me to know they were talking about ME, all the things they suggested were things I could be.

They want me to be a pet? A girl? A baby? I CAN be those things?

Micheal stepped in. "Now now, don't fluster him too much. Its his first day here. Tell us Ollie, what are your kinks?"

My kinks!? Like, what everyone is doing here?  I had never thought of it, or even thought that it could be something I thought about.

"I... I..." I stuttered.

"Need time to think? Its ok if its nothing, no one will push you into anything here," Michael said.

He fixed me with his eyes, and once again my breath caught. All thoughts slumped in my head, becoming a puddle. Words had no meaing anymore, and I drifted through a void.

I didn't even noticed my drink was empty.

"I..." I finally broke his gaze. "I have to go."

I pushed through the crowed and to the elevator. 

"Wait, Olliver!" Michael shouted.

I hit the button reptedly until the door open, rode it down, and stepped.

"Wow, that was fast. What, is someone adopting you home?" the doorman asked.

I looked up at him.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry! Are you alright?" he asked, and looked shocked.

I put a hand to my face, and realized I'd been crying.

The elvator door opened, and I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Olliver, are you alright? I'm sorry if it was too much," Miranda asked.

I looked back at her. She was standing next to Micahel, both looking sympathetic.

"It's just a lot to see at once. A lot to think about," I said. 

"It's ok Olliver," Michael said. "We might have pushed you too much if you are new to this. Do you want to take a break, or head home for the night?"

I looked away. "I know. It was fun, it was just a lot. I think I need to go home."

He nodded. "Alright. Do you think you might want to come again?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

He nodded. "Here," he gave me a card. "This is my cellphone number. If you are feeling up to it again, message me, ok?"

"Ok," I nodded.


"Do you think you can get home on your own, or do you need someone to go with you?"

"I," 

I want him to come home with me to take care of me, to be safe...

I shook the thoughts out. "I'll be fine."

"Ok," he nooded. "I'll call you a cab and pay. Least I can do since you came out here for us."

"Ok."

"Olliver?"


"Yes."


"Take your mask off before you go out into public."

I blushed deep read, and tore it off.

A few minutes later I was in a cab, then I was laying in bed. I didn't know how long it took, time had been moving strangely since I entered the club.

I looked at the torn remains of my mask, and pushed them back together.

Why does it hurt so much that I broke it? That I broke something he gave me? It was a stupid thing, and so cheap.

But he said it looked pretty on me. That's the first time anyone called me anything like that, I didn't know I COULD be that.

I lay back in bed, visions of the night swirling through my head, until I fell asleep.

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