To tell you the truth, she looked rather young. And silly. White button-down shirt. Black tie. Pocket protector full of pens. Thick-rimmed glasses. Hair pulled back in a no-beauty ponytail. Black polyester skirt and black clunky shoes. Her uniform certainly matches the stereotype. But then again, fixing computers is a man’s game. So she IS kind of swimming against the tide. Though all I care about is getting my stuff back, so if a woman can do it, more power to her.

I let her in, and led her to my den and the patient in question. “I dunno. I keep getting all these error messages. I hope the hard drive isn’t totally corrupted. Or something…”

“Well, let me take a look. I’m sure I can help you…”

She sat down and began mousing and tapping keys. Unfamiliar windows and commands flew across the screen of my computer. My computer. And she just sat down and took charge. I guess she DOES know what she is doing after all. I felt kind of helpless, standing there, watching her zip around my computer like it was her playground. And I just had to wait. And watch. I couldn’t help or offer any advice. And I’m a guy. I mean, technology…fixing things…that’s what we do. All I could do is…

“So…would you…some coffee?”

“I think I’ve found your problem. Where’s your last system backup?”

“Backup. Oh. Ah…” I rummaged around the desk. “Here. Right here.” I handed her the disk triumphantly. See, not so useless after all!

She frowned. “This is over a month old. Nothing more recent?”

“Ah…no…” I blushed.

“Well, it will have to do, I guess. Oh, milk and sugar please.”

“What?”

“For the coffee.”

“Oh. Ah…sure.” I went to the kitchen. Maybe some of my ‘good’ coffee, The Kona. And some cookies. For some reason I felt like I needed to impress her…

I brewed a fresh pot of Kona and got out a tray, two cups and a plate of cookies. And brought them to the den. It took a little longer than I expected but I hoped she liked it. When I got there she was staring intently at my computer looking at… Oh.

Oh no.

“That encryption was totally weak. You can’t always rely on freeware.”

“You fixed the problem…?” Maybe she didn’t realize what it was she was seeing…I hope…

“Oh, I fixed it alright. Interesting stuff in those hidden folders…”

“Well, I…”

“And that junk you’re using to hide all those websites you go to…it totally doesn’t…”

“I..Uh…” I don’t need to explain myself to her…do I?

“Femdom…Male Chastity…Hypnosis…all those Fetishes. And that Lady Julia is totally awesome..”

All I could do is just stand there and turn red.

“So, what are you, like, a sub?”

“What? I..” This isn’t really happening…is it?

“You know. Submissive. A submissive male…”

“Well I…” This is so embarrassing….but…God…it’s like one of my fantasies…!

“Do you have a Mistress?”

“What? No I…”

“But you want one, huh? You’ve looked at lots of those websites. Ever talk to any?”

“Email. I’ve…a few…”

“But never met any in person?”

“No, I…no…”

“But you want to…”

“I…well…”

“What’s this…FLR?”

“It’s…ah…Female-Led Relationship…it…”

“Where the Woman is totally in charge…right?

“…Yes…”

“Is that what you want?”

“I…well…” The line between fantasy and reality was…rapidly disappearing…

“To have a woman totally in charge. Of you?”

“I…well…yes…” I found myself having no choice but to admit it…

“You want to find a woman and surrender to her. And totally obey her.”

“Well…yes…”

“So, if I was to say…like…’get on your knees’, you would do it, huh?”

“I…uh…”

“I’m waiting…”

I got down on my knees. In my den. In my own house. For her. A female computer geek. A female computer geek Mistress.

“No, you’re too far away. come over here…”

I ‘walked’ on my knees over to where she was sitting. On my chair at my desk. It hurt my knees to do it, but I just…had to obey.

“Good boy.”

It…it felt good to hear her say that. To actually hear a female voice say those words to me in person. Those words I’ve wanted so much to hear…

“You like that.”

“Uh?”

“You like to hear me say that. Good boy…”

“How..?”

“I’m a fast reader. Plus I can see how hard your cock is.”

“Uh…” Oh God…

“Maybe I’ll tie a ribbon around it an’ use it as a leash. Y’know lead you around…”

Oh God….

“You’d like that too, huh? You’d like me to tie a pink ribbon around your silly peter and use it to lead you around like a puppy dog. Wouldn’t you?”

“Oh God…!”

“Goddess. Not God. Or Mistress. Yes. I could be your Mistress. Would you like that?”

“I…I wo…”

“No. I’m not asking you. I’ll tell you. You would You totally would like me to boss you around. Now say it.”

“I would…like you to boss me around.”

“No, totally. ‘I totally…”

“I totally would like you to boss me around.”

“Good boy.”

If I had a tail I’d be wagging it.

“Now, I’m gonna copy all your dirty porn onto my thumb drive. That way I’ll have ALL your stuff. So I can look at it later. You don’t mind, do you?”

What if I do mind? What could I do about it? “No…I..”

“Again. Not a question.”

I felt something tapping on my leg.

“This may take a while. You’ve got lots of stuff for me to copy. Why don’t you make yourself useful or something…”

I understood. I crawled under my desk, untied her black ugly, clunky shoes and slid them off her feet. The combination of those shoes and her cheap supermarket suntan pantyhose created a stink out of a foot fetishists fantasy. Which…was now my reality. And there was no escaping from it. The taste was…well, not as delicious as in my fantasies, but my need was as strong…

“Hey, down there…”

“Uh?”

“When am I gonna get my coffee?”

“Right away…Mistress…!”

“Good boy…”

~~~~~~~

Be Careful What You Wish For… Or, Beware of Geeks Bearing Gifts is a post from: Femdom Fantasies. Authors retain copyright. If you enjoyed this story or have something to add, please leave a comment. Remember, feedback typically encourages writers to write more ;)

(continued from part 2b)

Sometime after part two…

I was busy working in my studio. After all the events of the past few weeks it was nice to be able to stop and ‘clear my head’ so to speak. And I DO have my own work to do, don’t I? Things with Susan seemed to be happening quickly…too quickly? I felt myself being inexorably pulled into Susan’s orbit without any chance to pause or reflect on it. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Is there? After all…

When suddenly (is there any other way?) the phone rang…

“Hello…”

“Hello Matthew.”

“Ah, Susan. Hi.” It’s Susan. Just hearing her voice and (as usual) any doubts or misgivings instantly vanish. Once again I am amazed at the power she has over me. Now if I was to really sit down and think about it, I would wonder if this power is something that she has asserted or something that I have given her. Or both? But I’m not going to wonder about that. Because that’s not really important, is it? No. What’s important is how Susan makes me feel when I am able to give her my service. Isn’t that right?

“Are you busy?”

“As a matter of fact…I need to get this illustration done. I’m on a deadline and I have to send it out tomorrow…”

“Well, I just wanted to ask you something…”

“Anything.”

“Well, I just realized that I’ll need to find a lawn service. You know, to mow the lawn, rake leaves. Things like that. I was hoping you could recommend someone.”

“Oh. Well, I’ve seen plenty of people around. But I’ve never dealt with any of them. I mow my lawn myself. I could…I’d be happy to mow for you…”

“Would you? That would be very helpful, Matthew.”

“No problem. be glad to do it.” I just offered to mow her lawn. in perpetuity. Didn’t I? Why did I do that? Oh, I know why…

“Mmmm.” That’s all she said. ‘Mmmm’. Obviously we both knew what Susan meant was: “Yes, I acknowledge that naturally you will be glad to mow my lawn for me,”

“An illustration. is this for work?” Susan asked.

“Yes. Well, it’s for a book, and as I said, I need to send it out tomorrow to meet the deadline. I’m afraid I may be up all night…”

“Hmm. Well I don’t like the idea of you being up all night long. I think I know what you need. I’ll be over in a bit.”

“I…oh…okay…” Huh? What? It’s not Susan’s business how late I stay up, or how I get MY work done. Is it? Is it? But what I said was: “Do you need directions?”

“I’m sure I can find it.”

“I’ll be out in my studio.”

“I’ll see you soon, Matthew.”
_________________________________________________________________________________________

Actually it was originally a greenhouse. And I do do some gardening in there from time to time, but I converted most of the space into a studio. I was hard at work (no, really!) when I heard the crunch of gravel as Susan’s car came up the driveway. I went out to greet her and led her back to my studio.

“…Was originally a greenhouse, but mostly I use it as my studio…”

“Nice and sunny, isn’t it? And you do all your work here…”

“Well, it gets me out of the house…” Ha ha.

“Ha ha! So you still do this by hand?” Susan indicated the current work on my easel. “I thought this was all done on computers now…”

“Yeah, but sometimes I still like to do it the old-fashioned way. There’s nothing like having a brush in your hand…”

“Yes, you are quite handy with a paintbrush, aren’t you, Matthew? Hmm. Interesting.” Susan studied the illustration closely.

“Do you like it?”

“Mmmm.” (I’m not sure what Susan meant by that ‘Mmmm.” but I’ll take it…) “It looks like you have quite a bit to go. You said it would probably take all night…”

“Uh…Yeah…”

“Well I think you should be able to finish your work in a timely fashion. I don’t like the idea of you not getting enough rest. After all, you need to be ready in case I call on you to be helpful…”

“Uh…Yeah…” Obviously Susan has a point. I need to be able to help her when she needs me. Don’t I? Because that’s what’s important, right? It’s not right for me to be upset that she can just come over here and tell me how to get my work done. Is it? That’s just me being selfish again. Isn’t that right? And yet…part of me resents that Susan thinks that she can just come over here to my house and take charge of my life. Just like that. But part of me… Well, a lot of me… Doesn’t resent it at all.

“What you need, Matthew, is something to put you in the right frame of mind…”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Something that will help you to concentrate on your work and relax you at the same time.”

“Really? That sounds…good…”

“Oh, it is. I think you will really enjoy it, Matthew.”

“What do I have to do?” (Yes, I chose. What else could I do?)

“First let’s get you changed…”

Of course. I shouldn’t be surprised. Being with Susan means I have to change. My clothes, that is. At this point I realize what’s going on. It seems that every time I am with her I have to take off my clothes and put on what she wants me to wear. And not just any old thing either, is it? She’s doing it deliberately, isn’t she? She’s conditioning me, changing not only my clothes but me. I realize this…I know what’s going on. And yet. Yet…Knowing this, I find myself powerless to stop it. Or, to be honest, there is nothing I WANT to do about it. I WANT this, don’t I? I want to please Susan and make her happy. To be her superhero. To be hers. Because, after all, that’s what’s important. Isn’t that right? Yes it is.

I hadn’t really noticed until now, but Susan had a duffel bag with her. She opened it and pulled out…yet another unitard.

“Here, Matthew, take this.”

It was quite thick and heavy. Much heavier than the various different Lycra unitards Susan has had me wear before. Why…?

“Do you have someplace to change?”

“Um, yes. There’s a small washroom just over there…”

“Good. Why don’t you just slip it on and then I’ll give you a hand…”

“Okay…” So I did. I went into the washroom, took of my grimy sweats and pulled and tugged the thick, shiny black unitard on. Because Susan wanted me to. It was really tight and I felt really compressed and awkward in it, and it wasn’t even zipped up yet… I returned to where Susan waited.

“This is really…tight…”

“Mmmm. This material doesn’t stretch too much. But I like how you look in it. And it will look even better once you lose a few pounds…”

“Ah…” Of course it will…

“Let’s get you zipped up…”

Obediently, I turned around, offering Susan the zipper. She had a bit of trouble getting it going, but slowly the unitard grew even tighter and more form fitting. I even seemed to have a little trouble breathing…I felt really confined and encased, as if…

“Huh?”

“Matthew?”

Susan had finished doing up the zipper but her hands had not left the back of my neck. They were paused, waiting…

“Oh, I…”

“Matthew??”

“Yes.”

I hadn’t noticed when and from where Susan got the padlock, but the sharp ‘click’ told me I wouldn’t be taking the unitard off until Susan unlocked it.

“Thank you, Matthew.”

“I…Uh…” I had the strong desire to say, ‘No, thank YOU…’

“And now for the best part…” Susan reached into her duffel bag and pulled out a black helmet which looked like it was made from the same material as the unitard..

“That’s…”

“Yes. Well, it’s a hood. Sort of. It goes with your unitard. It has a lot of interesting features…”

“It looks like a helmet…”

“Mmmm….”

I have no idea what that particular ‘Mmmm’ of Susan’s meant. But I’m about to find out, aren’t I?

“This is the main part of what I was telling you about earlier.”

“What…that can help me concentrate and relax me at the same time…?”

“Exactly…well, if all goes according to plan…”

“I..well….” At this point, I’m feeling a bit…well, maybe more than a bit…nervous. But… What choice do I have, really? “How…?”

“Well, let’s try it on…Okay?”

“I…well…okay…” No. No choice at all, really.

“Thank you, Matthew.” Susan then began to draw the hood over my head. ” As you can see this hood has holes for your eyes. So you can see out. For now..” She had a bit of trouble working the hood down over my head and adjusting it so that the pads on the hood lined up over my ears and mouth.

Wait. Pads? What are they for…?

“There, how’s that?” Susan’s voice seemed oddly muffled.

“OLLFFF” I said. I guess I can’t talk too well wearing this. I nodded my head, that it was okay. If a bit tight…

“Good. let’s do up the zipper….”

“ULGH.” The helmet-hood tightened up even further. Pressing those pads tightly against my ears and mouth. If I didn’t know better… Wait. I think I’ve already established that I don’t know better. Do I? I then felt rather than heard a familiar ‘click’ coming from the back of my neck. Where did that padlock come from?

I was now completely, tightly encased from head to toe in a very tight, very black, form fitting unitard. And locked in. Until Susan lets me out. Until Susan decides to let me out. While I’m in my own house. Well, my own greenhouse. And…I just realized I can’t talk. And I can’t hear too well either. I’m…kind of a prisoner in my own home. Actually, more than kind of. This, this is wrong, isn’t it? But then it should feel wrong. Shouldn’t it? It feels…it feels odd, yes, but also exciting. And kind of right. Because…. Because, well this is what Susan wants. And what is important is…

“I said, can you hear me, Matthew?”

“Mmmph.” I nodded.

“Good. Now we come to the fun part.”

Fun part? Fun for who?

“Now, for the rest of the afternoon, you are no longer Matthew…”

“Mn?” Who am I?

“You have a task to perform. a painting to complete.”

Yes. Okay.

“You will focus on your task. You have nowhere to go. No one to talk to. Those are distractions. You don’t need them…”

Yes…I…

“Now I will give you something to help you relax. It is important that you are relaxed and calm while you are focused and working…”

I…yes…what? What could it be?

Susan then pulled out a small silver object.

“It’s just a little MP3 player. It fits into a little pocket on the back of your hood. and it plugs into the speakers over your ears…”

It’s music? Susan’s going to play me music?

“I put a little relaxation program on it. For you to listen to while you are working. It will help put you in the right frame of mind.”

Music? Relaxation? Program?

Susan then slid the tiny player into its pocket on the back of my head. Then attached the wires. Then I felt the press of her finger…

Waves crashed on the seashore.

The sun was bright and hot, but the breeze was cool. Seagulls called to each other and off in the distance a sailboat chased the horizon. The sand was perfectly warm and there was no one else around. This was the perfect place to set up my easel and paint…

And paint…

The large rock in the harbor is home to the mermaids. They call to me their siren song… Eerily seductive, I long to join them… But I have a task to perform…

And paint…

Up in the mountain meadow the air is crisp and cold. The vistas are awe-inspiring. Breathtaking. I cannot paint them all. But I must try. A Wood Nymph whispers in my ear. I can’t see her but I feel her beside me. She is telling me something. Something Important. I don’t hear her words exactly, but her words are inside me…

And paint…

In the castle the Queen sits on her regal throne, resplendent in her flowing robes. I know this even though I am far, far below her in one of the many workshops. I have an important task to perform. For my Queen. She has sent one of her many Ladies-in-waiting to keep me company. The Lady watches over me as I work. As she watches, she talks to me, but I cannot hear her words. I can’t her her words, but her words are inside me, and I understand. I understand them all…

And paint…

Who am I?

What is important?

I was Matthew.

I am…?

Susan. Susan is important…

And paint…

Service. Service is important…

And paint…

It is dark. I cannot see. There is nothing for me to see. Whispers come from the darkness. They bypass my ears and flow directly into my head. I don’t listen to the whispers, I don’t need to. Her words are inside me and I understand…

Something warm and wet presses against my mouth. Something familiar yet unfamiliar. My head fills with earthy scents and the tastes of meadow and ocean. And I understand…

The roller coaster creaks and shudders as it inches steadily upwards. Tension builds as as the rider creeps slowly but steadily towards the apex. Then at the top, she is weightless for a brief moment before the gut wrenching acceleration pulls her downward towards…

__________________________________________________________________________________________

“Welcome back.”

“I…what? Who…who am I?”

“Who indeed?”

Susan? Mistress was looking down on me, a secret smile on her face. She seemed oddly flushed. As if… As if… That was a dream wasn’t it? What happened? Then I realized that I am down on my knees before her. Down on my knees and somehow, at some point the gag from my hood had been removed without me noticing it. Susan Mistress smoothed her skirt down over her silky legs and a brief familiar memory of recent past flashed through my mind. Was it something I did or just imagined? I’m so confused… It’s so hard to focus…I feel, I feel an overwhelming tightness pressing all over my body. Pressing against me, tugging at me, pulling me down… Down into the swirling darkness…

“You did a good job for me today, my painter. But now you must sleep…”

I fight the tug of the inky blackness all over my body but it’s no use. It is all around me…already covering me…I am already inside it…locked inside it…

Sleep.

The blackness covers my mouth, fills my ears and shades my eyes. It binds my arms and legs. It holds me in a silken embrace which is so impossibly soft yet at the same time so impossibly tight. I cannot escape. I don’t want to escape. The blackness is filled with whispers. With words. But I don’t hear them. I can’t hear them. For her words are already inside me and I understand…

Sleep.

——————————————————————————————————-

“Hello, Matthew.”

“Susan?” Mistress?

“Yes. Welcome back…”

“I…what…?” I feel briefly woozy, my head feels very light…the helmet…the hood is gone, when? I’m still wearing the unitard, but not the hood. When did…?

“How do you feel?”

“I feel…I’m okay…” I feel good actually. Really good. Refreshed. And…well..excited…!

Susan smiled down at me, a secret smile (When have I seen it before?) and I realize that I am down on my knees before her…when…when did that happen?

“Good job, Matthew. The painting is very nice. come and see…”

Susan walked over to my easel but I remained where I was, down on my knees. I meant to follow but…it seems my legs just…

“Susan says- Matthew, please come here…”

Immediately I stood and walked over to Susan.

“And now, Susan says- Matthew please kneel.”

I got down on my knees next to Susan. Just…automatically…!

“See what a good job you did, Matthew…”

I looked at the painting. It was finished. It WAS good. Everything I had intended to paint, everything the client wanted was there…How…?

“Didn’t I tell you? That I knew exactly what you needed? Now you’re done in plenty of time…”

“Yes. I…” I don’t know how it was possible for me to have finished the painting so quickly, but…I guess that’s not really important, is it? “Thank you, Susan.”

“Oh, you’re very welcome, Matthew. I’m so glad I could help you. After all, you’ve been SO very helpful to me, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I…well, I…like helping you…”

“Oh, it’s more than that, I think. Susan says- Matthew please tell me.”

“I…” Then the words just came out. I couldn’t help it… “I want to be yours. I want–I need to serve you. To give you my service. To…ah…be under your control…”

“Mmmm.”

“What–what’s happening to me?”

“Oh, it’s just a little after effect, of the relaxation program. It will fade after a while. But then it will be reinforced the next time you listen to the program, and every time after that…”

“After…that?”

“Yes. I’ll leave the mp3 player here with you. So you can listen to it whenever you feel like it. And of course, I’ll leave the unitard here too, and the hood. Because they go together. In fact, I think you’ll find that you’ll need to put on the unitard and the hood before you’ll be able to listen to the program. And once you are wearing the unitard you’ll need to listen to the program before you will be able to take it off… And if things go well, there just might be more programs for you to listen to…”

“I…Oh…” This may sound crazy–but right now I have no doubt that everything Susan just said is true.

“Wouldn’t you like to listen to the program again, Matthew? And would you like to have more programs to listen to?”

“I…yes. Yes I would…” Yes. I would.

“Good. Very good. Thank you, Matthew.”

“No, thank YOU.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I’ve got to get going. But I’ll be in touch soon. Again, good job today, Matthew…” Susan headed toward the door.

“Thank…Oh! The unitard…I’m still…” The zipper. Susan forgot about the padlock… I went after her and caught up to her just outside the greenhouse.

“It’s not locked, Matthew. At least not with a padlock. You ought to be able to take it off now…”

I felt amazed and foolish at the same time. I was sure that…it did happen….? I felt around the back of my neck. I could feel the zipper pull but…

“I could have sworn…”

“Mmmm. Oh, there is just one more thing…” Susan came up to me and leaned close, I thought, I hoped she was going to kiss me but she leaned into my ear and whispered something. Something I heard yet didn’t hear… And then she was gone.

I went back into the greenhouse and looked again at the painting. Again I was amazed at how I could have done so much work in such a short period of time. And there was something else, something about the painting that…

That figure…that woman…looks…oddly familiar…doesn’t she?

——————————————————————————————————-

It was a struggle, but I was able to get the the tight unitard unzipped and peel it off my body. I had no doubt that I would find myself wearing it again. And soon. The events of the day swirled around my head and I couldn’t help but feel a bit confused by what happened. What did happen? What was with that ‘relaxation’ program anyway? Did I really do what I think I did? And what…what was with that ‘Susan says’? What did that mean? And the padlock that wasn’t there? and the…

I felt like I gave something of myself today…well, other than my service. I felt like I gave Susan something…Something that I can never get back. I think I’ve done that before haven’t I? But…this time it feels different. And….I am eager to do it again…

End Episode 3

~~~~~~~

Are You Busy? – Paint By Numbers (Episode Three) is a post from: Femdom Fantasies. Authors retain copyright. If you enjoyed this story or have something to add, please leave a comment. Remember, feedback typically encourages writers to write more ;)

(continued from part two)

Caller ID is a modern marvel. It lets you know which calls you can ignore…and which ones are very important…

“Hello…”

“Hello Matthew.”

“Susan. Hi.” For some strange reason, I am very excited to hear her on the line. Strange reason? Actually there was nothing strange about it at all…

“Are you busy?”

“Not for you.”

“That’s what I like to hear. I have some good news. The movers came this morning and delivered my furniture and quite a few boxes…”

“That IS good news.” Isn’t it?

“And so I was wondering if you would like to help me this afternoon…moving a few things…”

“I’d love to…”

“Good. So I’ll expect you, say, in about an hour…”

“I’ll be there…”

“Excellent! I really appreciate how helpful you are, Matthew.”

“I…well, it’s my pleasure…”

“I like to hear that too. See you soon.”

And with that, Susan was gone. Leaving me feeling…well, very excited. I get to help Her again. That’s a good thing. Isn’t it? It feels good, so it must be good. Right? What I didn’t think about is why. Why does she have such an effect on me?

I arrived at Susan’s house within an hour. What I didn’t notice was that there was a few extra cars parked on the street near her house. What I did notice was the mountain of moving boxes piled in the garage as well as furniture. This was going to be fun… Susan met me at the door wearing jeans and a turtleneck sweater. It (her sweater, that is) looked very soft and cozy. Her hair was pulled back and she was wearing glasses…giving her the effect of a School teacher on her day off.

“Come in, Matthew. I’m so glad you came.”

“How could I refuse?” How COULD I refuse??

“You can’t.” (Susan is teasing me here, I think, isn’t she?) “But anyhow, I really appreciate how helpful you’ve been. I know I keep saying that, but I really do.”

“And I keep saying, ‘It’s my pleasure”…because, well, it is…” It is. I feel good helping and being helpful to her… And I feel happy knowing that I am pleasing her. Which is important. Isn’t it?

“Well, let’s get you changed so we can get started.” Susan led me down the hallway to the smaller room I had painted a few days earlier. I noticed the doors of all the other rooms were closed

“Changed? But I…” We went in the room and Susan closed the door behind us.

“Yes. I think that while you are here helping you should be wearing a uniform. Have you forgotten already?”

“A superhero. how could I forget?”

“Yes, but I’m afraid you won’t be my superhero today. Here, put this on.” Susan opened the closet and pulled out a green unitard on a hanger. She stood there and watched as I stripped naked and put the unitard on just like she had shown me before. It should be an odd thing for a guy to just take off all his clothes in front of a woman he didn’t really know all that well. And slip into a Lycra unitard. Shouldn’t it? But I did it. Because Susan wanted me to. So that makes it all right…right? When I had it on, I turned so she could do up the zipper. She ran the zipper up my back and the unitard tightened around me…especially tight in some places…

“And now for the padlock. Matthew?” A question. She’s asking me if it’s okay for her to lock the zipper of my unitard. Locking me in it. Is it okay? What if I say no? What do I want? Do I really have a choice?

“Yes.”

For such a tiny padlock the ‘click’ seemed especially loud. “Thank you, Matthew.” Susan was thanking me…for what? For agreeing? For letting her put me in this position? “For putting your trust in me.” Susan must be a mind reader. “Now, just one more thing.” Susan turned me so I was facing her. “I think it would be easier if you were down on your knees for this.” Susan put her hands on my shoulders and gently pressed down until I was on my knees before her. She then produced a bit of Lycra fabric that matched my unitard. it was a…

“Now for the hood. I’m just going to slip this on you, then we can get the others…”

“Others?” There are others?

“You didn’t expect to move all that furniture by yourself, did you Matthew?”

“But…others…I thought…” I thought I was Susan’s superhero. Her ONLY superhero. There can’t be others! There just can’t. And if there were others, they would see me like this…I can’t let other guys see me like this Can I?

“You thought what?”

“That I was…the only…there can’t be others…”

“This isn’t about you, Matthew. I think you’re being very selfish.” Susan was disappointed. Disappointed in me.

“But…I…we…I thought we…”

“Have an exclusive relationship? I’m not your Wife, Matthew. Or your girlfriend. Or your lover. I’m not yours at all. Am I?” Yes, very disappointed.

“No.” But I thought…I’m her superhero…I am. Me.

“Why are you here?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you here, Matthew? Here. Now. With me.”

“Because-to help you.”

“Why?”

“Because–because I want to.” I like doing things for her. I like to make her happy…

“You chose to be here. To be helpful to me. because you want to.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t force you to be here. You’re here because you choose to be here…why? Because you want to please me, and make me happy. Is that right, Matthew?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think you are pleasing me now?”

“I’m sorry.” I’m stupid and selfish…Susan’s displeasure is like a heavy weight pressing on my chest. I feel bad…physically bad…sick…that I am displeasing Susan so much.

“You are here today to give me your service. That’s one of your “S” words, Matthew. It pleases you to give me your service, you said so yourself. And it pleases me to accept your service. THAT is the basis of our relationship. Whether it progresses beyond that depends on our choices…”

“Choices?”

“Yes, Matthew. Remember, you are here by choice. You may leave any time. Just say the word, and I’ll unlock your unitard, you can change and go. It’s up to you. And it is MY choice when you will be invited over to be ‘helpful’. OR EVEN IF YOU WILL BE INVITED. And it will be MY choice to take our relationship beyond what it is now. I had hopes for you, Matthew; from the moment I saw you wandering aimlessly around the mall, I thought that you might be the kind of man I am looking for. And so far, you have been doing very well. Until now, that is…”

What? ‘The kind of man I am looking for?’ Me? What kind? What do I have to do? How can I get Susan to want me? She did want me, right? Until now…

“How…what do I do to…fix this…?”

“It’s very simple, Matthew. You just have to choose.”

“I want…I want to stay.”

“Good. And I choose to accept your service– for today. Now, as I was trying to explain, this Lycra hood will cover your face so that you will be anonymous. The others are dressed the same. The identity of the others is none of your business, and yours isn’t to them. It is not important who you are. It is only important what you are here to do.” Susan drew the Lycra cloth down over my head. “Now stand up and let’s look.” I stood up and we looked in the mirror on the closet door. I could see surprisingly well through the fabric of the hood; I was looking at someone that was no longer me. My features were obscured–I was now just an anonymous male in green Lycra from head to toe. It was very strange…but…also exciting too…!

“For the rest of the day, you are no longer Matthew. You are now simply a man giving me his service. I will be calling you by the color of your unitard, ‘green’. The others will be ‘blue’ and ‘red’. And I think, for today, that I would like you to address me as ‘Mistress’. Okay?”

“I think so.”

“You THINK so? I THINK you can CHOOSE a better answer than that, ‘green’.”

“Oh. Yes…ah…Mistress…” I think Susan…Mistress…is angry with me. I’ve gone from her disappointment to displeasure and now anger. And the afternoon has just begun. I don’t like it. I make a mental vow from now on to always stay on Susan’s good side. As soon as I can find out what side that is. But I think it’s better to say as little as possible for now…before I get into even more trouble.

“Let’s go.” Susan…Mistress led me back out into the hallway. She opened the doors to two of the other rooms and led the others; ‘red’ and ‘blue’ out into the hallway.

“Now, the three of you will be helping me move my furniture into the house today. Naturally I will be telling you what goes where and how I want things handled. Some of the pieces will require you to work together. I expect you all to follow instructions and cooperate with each other. But, please don’t chat amongst yourselves- you are here to work, not to make friends. I would prefer that the three of you know as little as possible about each other. Who you are is none of each others business. Only I know who each of you are, and that’s how I want it to stay. Will you do this for me?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Three voices said in unison. I’m pretty sure one of them was mine. But really, I had absolutely no desire to get to know ‘red’ or ‘blue’. I don’t even want to look at them. I don’t want to share Susan…Mistress with anyone else. I’m her superhero. Me. But…I want…I need to make her happy. I choose to. And I’ll show her that she should choose me. I’ll work hard and do whatever she wants. Because it’s important to please her. And to make her happy. That’s right, isn’t it? I think it is.

Mistress led us out of the house and across the front yard towards the garage. I was glad that Susan…Mistress told us to wear our sneakers with our unitards. It could be pretty tricky moving the furniture in just our stocking feet. It just goes to show how thoughtful she is.

“What if someone sees us?” A voice said. One of the others…

“That’s not important, is it?” Mistress Susan reassured us. “Even if someone did see you, they wouldn’t be able to tell who you are, could they? So there is nothing to worry about.” That makes a lot of sense. If anyone did happen by and saw us, all they would see is three males working. Being helpful. So what if we are wearing these unitards? It is what Susan…Mistress…Mistress Susan wants us to wear. They are our uniforms that help us give Mistress our service. When we wear them we are no longer selfish individuals; we are simply males here to give her our service. Our identities are protected…our identities are…gone. Our hoods…our masks shield our identities and take away our individuality. Our features are gone. Our faces…our names…gone…no longer important… What is important?

I was Matthew…I am…

I am ‘green’. I am here to give her my service. That is what is important.

The rest of the afternoon was given in service. Mistress directed us and we moved her furniture. It did not take very long, we worked hard and we worked together to get her house filled with her furniture. Tables, chairs, lamps, sofas. All of it. We worked quickly without any extraneous chatter or joking around. Because she wanted it that way. It is important to do what she wants. Because it is important to please her and make her happy…

Finally we were finished and we assembled in the living room. “Thank you all for your help today. I really appreciate it. My house feels so much better to me now that it has my furniture in it. I am very proud of you all, and all your hard work. I know there are still all those boxes with the rest of my belongings. That will have to wait for another time. I hope I can count on you all to help me…” Mistress was happy. She was proud of me. Of us. We basked in her praise and knowing that I…we had pleased her, my unitard got very tight… It is important to please Mistress. It feels good to make her happy.

“Of course, Mistress.” Who said that? One of us? Or all of us?

“Excellent! You are all so very helpful. Again, I really appreciate all you have done for me. Thank you all very much.”

“Thank You, Mistress.”

“It’s my…our pleasure…”

“Anytime you need us…”

“Please follow me…” Mistress lead us back down the hallway. She stopped in front of the smaller spare room. “‘Green’, please wait for me in here.” I walked into the room and Mistress closed the door behind me. I was now alone. Alone to wait. There was now furniture in the room but it seemed appropriate to wait kneeling on a small rug facing the door. Yes. That is how I should wait. Wait for Mistress. Wait for Susan. Wait for Susan…Mistress to come and…what? That is not important. When she comes she will tell me. She wants me to wait. So I will wait. That is what’s important. Because pleasing her is important.

Hours pass…or is it just minutes? Days? I can’t tell. But it is not important. I am waiting. Waiting for her. Because she asked me to. Because she wants me to. Because I choose to. Finally I feel her presence outside the door. It’s Her!! The door opens and she enters the room.. Susan…Mistress…Mistress Susan. Susan Mistress. It feels so good that she is finally here. It feels so good to see her. The sunshine of her smile warms me. “Thank you so much for waiting.” The melody of her voice caresses me like a warm blanket. The sight of her, her Womanliness excites me and I ache and throb for her…

“Thank you so much for your service today, ‘green’. You worked very hard and was very helpful.”

“It is my pleasure to give you my service. Mistress.”

“Yes I can see that. Your unitard shows me just how much you enjoy serving. That is one of the reasons why I want you to wear it. So that the relationship between your service to me and your pleasure will be on display. There is no way for you to be able to hide it. And I must say…I enjoy having that effect on you. And the others…” Mistress was standing over me now. She bent down and gave me a kiss on my forehead. I felt the warmth of the kiss pass through my mask and spread all throughout my body. “Good job today, ‘green’. You have certainly earned your reward…” A reward. From Mistress. From Susan. From Mistress Susan. A reward for my service. My service is my pleasure. My reward…My reward will be my pleasure… She will… Mistress will grant me pleasure… If I ached for her before, it is nothing compared to how I ache now.

“But… I need to talk to Matthew…” Susan pulled the hood from my head. “Hello, Matthew”. Without my mask the lights seemed bright and harsh. And cold.

“Oh…Ah…Susan…?”

“Yes, Susan. Welcome back.”

“I…uh…”

“‘Green’ was very good today. He made me happy. He earned a reward. But you, on the other hand…”

“I’m sorry. I was selfish…I…”

“You disappointed me earlier, Matthew. I don’t like that.”

“I’ll do anything. Whatever you want…”

“Yes you will. But that’s not the point. You will already do whatever I want. I think you need to be punished.”

“Punished?”

“Yes. I think you need to really recognize that your behavior was wrong. And that you should accept responsibility for it.”

Susan looked down on me, an expectant look on her face. I had to respond somehow. I had to make things right. I had to choose my words carefully. I had to choose…to choose…

“I apologize for my behavior earlier. I was acting very selfishly. I put my own pleasure ahead of my service to you. I do not deserve any reward. I deserve punishment instead.”

“So you choose punishment instead of reward, Matthew?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a good choice, Matthew. I am glad you chose to accept your responsibility. I will give you your punishment.”

“Thank you.”

“Now I will be sending you home soon. I was going to give you all a few days rest before starting on the moving boxes. But I want you here at eight o’clock tomorrow morning ready to work. Okay?

“Yes, Mis…Susan…Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. That is not your punishment.” Susan reached down and grabbed me by my erection. After all that I was still throbbing and aching for her… “When you get home you will think about me, won’t you?”

“Ah, gurgle…”

“This is ‘off limits’, understand? You are not to touch. Not until I give you my permission. Is that clear?”

“Yes.” I croaked.

“Good.” I heard/felt a click at the back of my neck, and a rush of cool air and release of tension down my back. “Please get dressed and go.” Susan left the room, leaving me alone. I got dressed, walked out of the room and outside. I did not see Susan. Or anyone else. Susan did not walk me to my car. She did not see me off with a kiss and a squeeze of my…yet it felt as if…felt as if she was still holding me…still holding me tightly in her grasp….

I drove home very carefully…

I didn’t get much sleep that night….

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

The next morning saw me on Susan’s doorstep at eight o’ clock. Susan let me in. She was wearing her pink terrycloth robe. With all the furniture the atmosphere in her house seemed different. The echoes were muted, there were things where there should be, like a real kitchen table and chairs. If felt..right.

“Good morning, Matthew. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Uh yes. I’m…ready. Ready to help.”

“Good. And how was your evening? Did you follow my instructions?”

“I…yes…didn’t get much sleep…”

“Oh? That’s too bad. Well I suppose that was to be expected. Tell me, just what were my instructions?”

“Oh, ah…that I was not to touch…touch myself, until you give me permission.”

“Yes. That’s right. Do you think that was enough punishment?”

Oh boy. Somehow I sense that this is a question to which there is no good answer. “I…uh…no?”

“So you choose a further punishment for your behavior yesterday?”

“I…yes. Yes I do.” I think this is a safe choice. I hope.

“Very well. But it will have to wait. I have an appointment this morning. I need to get dressed.”

“Ah. Yes. I think…I think I need to get changed as well…”

“That’s right, Matthew.” Susan flashed me a smile. I was very grateful for it. Maybe, maybe I can win her approval back. If I make the right choices…

I glanced at the kitchen table. “Let me just take care of those dishes for you…”

That brought another smile from Susan. “Very thoughtful, Matthew. But not until after you get changed, okay?”

“Ah, yes. Of course.”

“Please go to the guest bedroom. You’ll find your uniform for today. Get yourself changed and I’ll meet you back here in the kitchen.”

Off I went, down the hall to the guest bedroom. The room I painted…it seems long ago now. Now the room had furniture. I opened the closet and there on a hanger, waiting for me was yet another unitard. This one was black and had a large “S” printed on the chest. Already ready. I took off my pants and shirt and hung them in the closet. Socks and underwear went on a shelf. I slipped into the unitard, my uniform. My uniform to become Susan’s superhero. My uniform for serving Susan. Unlike the unitards Susan had me wear before, this one had two zippers, the regular one and one in the crotch. That would be…that will be convenient. I hope. But I still had to deal with the main zipper, the one that goes up my back. At least that’s what it’s supposed to do. I have to find some way to get it zipped. To be dressed for Susan. So she will be proud of me. But..How? The answer was hanging in the closet. What if…What if I took a clothes hanger, and hooked the zipper tab–and used the hanger as a handle to pull the zipper up? That should work. It has to work…and amazingly enough, it did work! Of course it took some struggle, some twisting and turning, but I managed to do it. Susan will be happy. Happy with me. Now I was changed. Dressed in my unitard. Changed into Susan’s superhero. No longer just Matthew. No longer… But there was something else…something missing. I noticed, on top of the dresser, there was something. Actually two somethings. Small somethings. Padlocks. Susan would want me to…She would want me to…choose. I looked at the padlocks, they were identical. They were both open, but there were no keys. The keys must be with Susan. She would be holding them. The keys will be safe. I picked up one of the padlocks. It should be, it should be easy to just…behind my neck…work the shank through the zipper pull and the ring…and close the padlock. It should be easy. It should be. I just have to choose. Just choose. Choose.

“Click!” That was loud. Now the zipper was locked. I didn’t have the key to unlock it. I was locked in my unitard until Susan lets me out. I am changed. I chose. To be helpful to Susan. Because that’s what she wants. And it’s important to please her and make her happy. Isn’t that…isn’t that…right? I think it is. I picked up the second padlock and took it with me to the kitchen. Just in case Susan wants it…

Back in the kitchen I was very helpful and washed the dishes from Susan’s breakfast. Then I dried them. Then I put them away. If I had stopped to think about it, I probably should have been very self-conscious. Wearing a unitard. A locked unitard. And doing manual labor for a woman that I still didn’t know very well. Here in her house. Making myself vulnerable to her. Allowing her…allowing her to put me in situations where I am giving up control. And putting her in control. Was this what I wanted when I offered to carry her bags that day in the mall? But…I chose this, didn’t I? That’s what Susan would say. She did not force me, did she?

In fact, I didn’t think about those things. At least consciously. What I was thinking about is pleasing Susan and making her happy. Being her superhero. And, in fact, I was feeling increasingly comfortable wearing a unitard and being locked in it, for her. Because wearing it shows that I am here to help and give her my service. And it is what she wants. And I want to please her. And…and…and… Choices. Choose. Surrender. I did that…didn’t I? Have I already gone too far, or…not far enough?

The muffled click of heels told me that Susan was approaching. Suddenly I realized that any doubts I had would not be able to stand up to her presence. Once I saw her or even heard her voice my need would overwhelm everything else. She knows that. She MUST know that. I can’t resist her. I don’t even want to. I choose not to.

“Oh good, you’re all dressed! Let me see!” I had made Susan happy. I stood still as Susan circled me and looked me over. “Mmmm.” She tugged on the padlock at the back of my neck. “Nice and secure. Thank you, Matthew.”

“I, uh, well…” I related how I figured out how to do up my zipper. And as for the padlock… “…it seemed like the thing to do..”

“Yes. That’s good. That was a good choice, Matthew.”

“I…Uh…Thank you.”

“I had this unitard made up especially for you.”

“Uh. Yeah. “S”. S for superhero.”

“Mmmm. Yes. But also “S” for service.”

“That too.” Of course. I should have seen that…

“And I can see you like wearing it…!” Susan laughed.

“Ah…Uh…” “S” for saluting.

“I’m sure you noticed, that this one has a zipper in the crotch. So you’ll be able to use the bathroom without needing to take the unitard off or even needing me to unlock it. That would come in handy, say if you were wearing it for a long period of time.”

“Ah, yes…very…practical…” Call me crazy, but somehow I think Susan will have no trouble finding ways to keep me in this unitard for long periods of time. But that’s okay, isn’t it?

“Why don’t you give me a demonstration?”

“What…? Unzip it…here?”

“Yes, Matthew. Right here. Right now, please.” There was definitely a warning in Susan’s voice…

“I, Uh…” I was feeling very embarrassed. Of course Susan has seen me…all of me…but… What choice did I have, really? So I unzipped the crotch zipper and…

“Well, you certainly ARE very excited to be here helping me. Thank you, Matthew.”

“I…uh…well…” Make that extremely embarrassed.

“Now, I have something else I would like you to wear for me while you’re here today…if you don’t mind…”

“Yes, of course. I’d be glad to…” Another hood?

“I haven’t told you what it is yet. Have you already made your choice?”

“I…oh…” Uh-Oh…

It finally sunk in that Susan had with her a small notepad and a velvet pouch. She opened the pouch and spread the contents on the kitchen table. Clear plastic rings of various sizes…some plastic pins and another piece of clear plastic that had holes in it and was shaped like a tube but also not vaguely shaped like an…oh… I’ve seen these…on the Internet…!

“I’m sure you know what this is…”

“I…well, I’ve seen…on the Internet…”

“I’m not surprised. It seems to be quite a common fantasy among men like you…”

“I…oh…uh…” Huh? Men like…like me? But…but I… Wait. This means Susan wants me to… “You want me to…wear…this…uh?”

“Chastity Device. It’s a CB-3000. And, yes, I would appreciate it if you would wear it for me today…”

“I…um…” I can choose. I could say no. I could leave. I could just end this and go home. I could… But of course I can’t. “I’ll…I’ll do it…”

“Wonderful, Matthew! Thank you very much. I think this will be a good learning experience. For you.”

“Learning…experience…?”

“Yes. Think about our discussion yesterday. Why do YOU think I would like you to wear this chastity device?”

“To…in order to…” Why? I thought about what we discussed yesterday. My behavior. Punishment? Pleasure? Then a thought hit me. “To remind me. To remind me not to be selfish. Not to put my personal pleasure ahead of giving you my service…”

“Yes, Matthew. That’s it exactly! You have admitted to me how much you enjoy being helpful. How your service gives you pleasure. And, because of your unitard, that is something you cannot hide. And you have admitted how selfish that pleasure has made you. So by wearing this chastity device you will be reminded to focus on your service and not on your own pleasure. And by choosing to agree to wear it will show me that you understand what is important. I think that makes sense, don’t you?”

“It…that…I think…that makes sense…” It seems to make sense. But I thought…I thought a guy would have to wear one of those things so he wouldn’t be able to cheat. Of if he already did cheat. Or if he… But when you think about it, I guess it IS kind of like I am cheating. It’s like I have been using Susan for my own pleasure. And that is wrong. Thinking of myself, my own pleasure when I should be thinking about being helpful. Because being helpful and making Susan happy is what’s important. Isn’t that right?

“Good. I’m glad you agree, Matthew. Now let’s try it on, and I’ll give you your assignment for today. Then I have to get to my appointment.”

“Uh…yes. okay.”

Susan went to the freezer and pulled out one of those flexible cold packs that you might use on an injury and handed it to me. “Here, this ought to reduce the ’swelling’.” It was all too effective. “Now this ring will go behind your testicles, and the tube part…and the pin…” Susan next handed me the various parts and luckily enough I was able to get them assembled on me without too much difficulty. Luckily I was pretty numb at this point. Yes. How lucky for me…!

“I see you brought that second padlock with you. That was a good choice, Matthew.” Yes. How extremely lucky for me. “I’m sure you must have guessed that the two padlocks are part of a set. I only need one key to unlock either or both of them. Isn’t that convenient?”

“Oh, yes. Very…convenient.” How lucky can one guy get?

“So, we just need to put the second padlock through the hole on the pin there and then…Matthew?”

“Ah…” Another choice. I have a choice, don’t I? Or do I? It seems that Susan is leading me down a one-way street and there are no U-turns allowed. But…I’m not, I’m not really unhappy that this is happening am I? I mean, I shouldn’t…be letting her do this to me, should I? I should be…I should be…a man? And yet…deep down I know that this, this is…this is what I want. Helping Susan. Pleasing her and making her happy. That is what is important. That is…MY pleasure.

“Yes.”

“Click!”

“Thank you, Matthew. For putting your trust in me, again.”

I couldn’t say anything. But I felt, I felt the enormity of the situation. It hit me suddenly like a weight pressing on my shoulders. Or, to be more precise, a weight pulling downward between my legs. I was suddenly VERY aware of my penis and the situation it was now in. It had shrugged off the cold and was now trying to force it’s way out of it’s plastic prison. Naturally to no avail. I felt it squeezed in it’s confinement, closed in on all sides as if…as if it was being held tightly in Susan’s hand. In her inescapable grasp.

“I really appreciate you doing this for me.” Susan then kissed me on the cheek. “Oh! My lipstick. let me…” She moved to wipe it off, then her thumb hesitated. “On second thought, I think I’ll just leave it…” I felt the heat from her kiss linger on my cheek. Her lipstick…

“Ah!” My penis…so accustomed to ’saluting’ for Susan was finding it difficult to adapt to it’s new surroundings.

“Oh, does it hurt?” I sense Susan is not all that concerned…

“Uh, its…It’s okay…I’ll manage…”

“Good. But perhaps it’s best if you put it away for now. Though I must admit it does look cute– all snugly secured in there.”

“Ah…” That’s not…not helping. I zipped up the unitard’s crotch. Perhaps ‘things’ will calm down…

“Now, Matthew…” Thankfully Susan changed the subject. She flipped through some pages on her notepad. “What I want today is for you to go through the moving boxes in the garage. When I packed them I marked them according to what’s inside. You will be looking for all the ones marked with the number ‘nine’. There should be…there should be nine of them. Nine boxes of ‘nine’. Bring them in and put them in that room that will be my office. Okay? Now I’ve got to get to my appointment. But I’ll be back in a few hours…”

“Absolutely. I’ll…I’ll get right on it.” Of course I will. What else was I going to do? I should have thought of something better to say. But it was kind of hard to think right now. My situation has me…completely off balance. Or more accurately, the situation that Susan has me in. If I didn’t know better…I’d say that Susan is doing this on purpose. Wait. Of course Susan IS doing this on purpose! And it’s working…

Susan left. I set off for the garage to start my task for the day. Halfway out the door I realized that there was a possibility that someone…who happened to be passing by…and happened to look down the driveway at just the right time and at just the right angle, just might possibly see me. See a man wearing a black Lycra unitard with a large “S” on his chest and an odd CB-3000 shaped bulge in his… Uh oh. I ran as fast as I could. Which was not all that fast because something was weighing me down. Something between my legs. Something that I am wearing for Susan. Because she wants me to. Because… Great. Now I’m REALLY aware of it…!

Moving boxes. Each one has a number written on it. 1, 3, 8, 4, 6…There’s a nine. There’s… They’re not together. The boxes are totally random. I’m going to have to go through the whole pile to find all the ‘nines’. I’m going to have to…be helpful. “Ah! this thing is…tight…”

If that wasn’t punishment, I don’t want to know what is. It took me hours. Moving all the boxes around to find all the ‘nine’ boxes. All nine of them. Carrying them one by one from the garage to the house. While avoiding being seen. At least I hope no one saw me. And each time I brought a box into her house I would have to pass by at least one mirror. And I would see in my refection, my situation. The unitard I am wearing for her. The padlock. The CB-3000. And…and the mark of her lipstick on my cheek. It must be my imagination but it seems to be getting darker, more visible. Shouldn’t it be fading? What is happening to me? Shouldn’t I be… Shouldn’t I be having second thoughts? Or even third thoughts? What is important? Susan is important. Doing this task for Susan…making her happy… That is what’s important. Isn’t that right? That’s what I think.

I heard some familiar music coming from Susan’s guest bedroom. My cellphone. Who could be calling me? I hesitated to answer it. What if, what if by talking on the phone someone could tell what I was wearing? What I am doing? What would they think? What if…? The number calling seemed unfamiliar. I answered anyway.

“Uh, hello?”

“Oh, good. Hello Matthew”

“Ah. Susan. Hello.” It’s Susan…!

“Are you busy?”

“Ah, yes. Actually I found all the boxes you wanted and I’m just about done bringing them in.”

“Very good! Gold star for you, My superhero!”

“Ah!…ow…” Sometimes I wish her praise didn’t affect me so much. Like when I’m wearing this…thing…on me…

“Oh, are you okay?”

“Uh, I’m fine…I’m okay…” You know I think Susan knows full well what would happen to me wearing this CB-3000…

“Listen, Matthew. I’ll be home soon. And I was thinking about lunch…”

“Well, I could…I’m sure I could make something….”

“Oh, really? That would be very good of you, Matthew. Very thoughtful.”

“It would be my…I’d be glad to.”

“I’ll certainly be looking forward to it. See you soon…”

“I’ll be here…” As If I’d be going anywhere? Like this?

Now, what to make for lunch? I’m a pretty good cook, if I DO say so myself, but…given the situation…MY situation, I think I should choose something simple. Like soup. That’s pretty easy. You just need to open a can. And of course heat it up. And cheese. On bread. In the toaster. I think I’ll call it a ‘grilled cheese sandwich’. I got to work. I was so busy being helpful that I didn’t even hear Susan arrive until she came through the door…”

“Hello, Matthew. Mmmm, something smells wonderful.”

“Oh, Susan. Thank you. It’s not much…”

“No, it looks great! I can’t wait to eat. It’s very nice to come home to find a nice meal waiting for me. Thank you, Matthew.”

“Oh, I …my pleasure…” I wish it was my pleasure, but right now my pleasure is…a little cramped…

“So, shall we eat here in the kitchen, or would you like to eat in the living room again?”

“I think…I’d like…the living room…”

“Hmmm, okay. You can put our lunch on that tray and bring it in, I’ll find something for us to drink.”

I brought the soup and sandwiches on a tray into the living room and put it on the table which was now next to Susan’s chair. I found the cushions I had sat on before and arranged them for me to sit on. So I could sit at Susan’s feet. Because that is where I choose to sit. Susan came in with some iced tea and sat down in her chair. I took my place on the cushions below her. She lifted her feet up and offered them to me. No words were necessary. I removed her shoes and placed them to the side. Susan lowered her stocking feet and rested them on my leg. I was once again serving as Susan’s footrest. It felt…right. She handed me a plate and we enjoyed our lunch…

“Mmmm. Delicious, Matthew.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s so nice to be able to sit here like this, have a meal and just relax and enjoy ourselves…”

“Yes…” Actually, while it was great to be sitting here with Susan like this, I wasn’t what you would call relaxed. Susan sank back in her chair and I could feel the tension drain out of her. And I could feel her silky stocking feet resting on my leg. So close. So close to the part of me that was certainly not relaxed, but was in fact, cramped and a bit uncomfortable. And it was taking what little willpower I had left not to look, not to stare at them…her stocking feet…my weakness…!

“So, Matthew, I hope you didn’t have too much trouble finding all the boxes…”

“No…not really…” Yes, I actually lied to Susan.

“The movers just piled them haphazardly. And I wanted them arranged so all the numbers were together.”

“Well, actually I…l figured that. So when I was finding all the ‘number nine’ boxes I arranged all the other boxes so their numbers were all together too. I thought that it would make things easier…for us later…”

“Really, Matthew?” Susan smiled. “That’s wonderful. That was very thoughtful of you. Thinking of your fellow helpers like that…”

“Well, yes, I…” I guess I was. Not so selfish after all…

“Good for you, Matthew. This was a positive ‘learning experience’ for you as I had hoped. I think you deserve a reward. I’d like to give you one, if you’ll accept it…”

“I…well, yes. Absolutely!” A reward, from Susan. Finally! How could I choose to refuse it?

“But, there is still the matter of your punishment. You remember, from this morning. I believe you asked for a further punishment for your behavior yesterday. Didn’t you?”

“Um…” Did I? But that was so long ago…Surely Susan would let this pass…? “Well, I guess I might have…”

“What WILL I do with you, My superhero…?”

Of course, I wanted to say, ‘anything you want’, but I said nothing as Susan sat there thinking… Finally she came to some sort of decision and stood up.

“Come…” Susan held out her hand to me. I took it and rose. Susan then led me by the hand over to the sofa and we sat down together. It felt unfamiliar yet nice sitting there with her holding hands, it was as if we were actually a couple. It struck me then that in the time we had known each other and with all that has happened, we had yet to be really intimate. Of course Susan has seen all there is of me to see, and had learned many of my secrets and my weakness. Yet there was one line we hadn’t crossed… Suddenly images popped into my head of Susan and I, in each others arms, making out like teenagers with our hands roaming and groping each other. It was powerful, primal and exciting. Perhaps a little too exciting…!

“OW!…” Damn. This thing…

“Oops! Just think of it as a little reminder. So that you’ll remember what’s important…”

“Believe me. I do. I was…I was thinking about you…” I could feel Susan’s eyes on me, studying my face, looking for…looking for something…

“I’m glad you agreed to wear that CB-3000 for me today, Matthew. I really think it was good for you. And I really appreciate it.”

“I…It was…” Well I can’t really say it was ‘my pleasure’, can I?

“And I see you didn’t wipe my lipstick off your cheek…”

“I, uh…” How could I? After she marked me like that? I can still feel it…

“Let me give you another one. As your reward…” Susan pulled me closer. She was going to kiss me again. Her lips would be on me, maybe even on my lips…maybe even we would…

Susan left her mark on my other cheek. The hot sweetness of her kiss spread all over my body. I didn’t need a mirror to know that this lipstick mark would be as visible as the first…

“I…ah, ow…”

“My poor superhero…”

“It’s…okay, I’ll manage…”

“But I hate to see you suffer. Hmm. Suffer. ‘S’ ”

“Yeah.” Great. One of those ‘S’ words. But I can stand it for Susan. I can. If I choose to. Because I know what’s important. But…of course if Susan was truly concerned about my ’suffering’ she could easily end it if she chose to. And grant me pleasure. If she chose to. But..but that’s HER choice. For me, what’s important is making her happy. Even if…even if I have to suffer somewhat. Because my service to her comes before my pleasure. No, it IS my pleasure. That’s right. Isn’t it? Yes. I believe it is. That’s…that’s why I am…why I agreed to wear the CB-3000 locked on my penis. To remind me what is important. Service. ‘S’ Being Susan’s superhero…

“…Just one more task for today, Matthew…”

“Oh, yes…”

“I just need you to bring in the things from my car. Bring them in and put them on my desk. Meanwhile, I’ll take care of our lunch dishes.”

“But I can…”

“I know.”

And I knew better than to press the issue. I went out to Susan’s car. She had a new computer. With a new monitor, printer and all the accessories. I brought them in to her new office-slash-library room and put them on the desk.

“Would you…I’d be happy to set it up for you…”

“Very kind of you, Matthew. But I’ll take care of it. Besides, it’s about time you got going…”

“Ah…yes…” Again I knew better than to press the issue. Even though leaving Susan was not something I wanted to do. I still have some helpfulness left in me. I still… But, it’s not about me, is it…?

“Here.” Susan gave me a small velvet pouch. “Hold out your hand…” Susan then placed a tiny key in my palm. ‘My’ key…? “Go get yourself changed.”

So I did. I went down to the guest bedroom. And I changed. Back into just Matthew. It felt sad. Unlocking myself. Peeling of my unitard, my uniform. Even taking off the CB-3000. Why was it sad? How could I feel uncomfortable in my own clothes? What’s happening to me? What is important? I hung my unitard back in the closet and put the padlocks and the CB-3000 in its velvet pouch on top of the dresser. I miss them already.

Susan was already done unpacking her new computer. No doubt she will have it up and online very soon. “My company gives all us department heads computers to use at home. It’s the very latest. The young man from our IT department was quite helpful…”

“Very nice…” Yes, I’m sure he was. And I’m jealous. But…

“I can even do video conferencing at home with the built-in webcam.”

“Good…”

“Do you have a webcam, Matthew?”

“No. Ah, I don’t.”

“Well, the nice young man was thoughtful enough to give me some extra ones. Just in case…”

“Wow. Excellent….” I’m not surprised, am I? Susan does inspire us to be helpful. (Though I still wish I was the only one. But I’m trying…)

“And I’ll be able to check up on you when you’re at home. Maybe have a chat as well.”

“I…that would be nice…” It would, wouldn’t it? Having Susan checking up on me at home…

Susan walked me out to my car. I got in, put my new webcam on the passenger seat and rolled down the window.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me today, Matthew. I really appreciate all your help.”

“Thank you.”

Susan then leaned in and gave me another kiss on my cheek.

“When you get home…you’ll set up your new webcam. Okay?”

“Oh, ah, of course.”

“And don’t forget to wash your face!” That brought a giggle from Susan, and from me as well. Then she turned serious.

“And as for this…” The now familiar feeling of her hand on me. “I’ll let you know…”

I drove home very carefully.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

Later that evening the telephone rang.

“Hello-”

“Hello, Matthew.”

“Susan. Hello.”

“Are you busy?”

“Not at all…”

“Good. I was hoping to try out the webcams. Sort of a test run.”

“Sure, let my just sign in…”

“Very good. See you soon!”

I got online and signed in. Soon I was connected and was looking at a picture of a familiar room. Suddenly the view shifted and turned and I was looking at Susan. I felt a warm tingly feeling just seeing her. Even though it had only been a few hours…

“Hello, Matthew. Can you see me okay?”

“Yes. Fine. You look…you look great!”

“Thank you. I can see you too.”

“Good…”

“Now let’s try…” The view shifted again. And suddenly I was looking at a foot. Then another. Silky stocking feet with sexy toenail polish. Susans feet! “How’s this? is it coming in clear?”

“Oh, goog. urgle.”

“What’s that?

“Oh, it’s fine…”

“Good I’m glad. I know how much you like to see them… And I noticed how you avoided looking at my feet during lunch. I thought you might enjoy seeing them now…”

“I…oh…yeah…”

“Now let’s check the resolution on your end. Stand up and take off your clothes.”

“Oh…I…”

“Now, please…”

“My. You ARE excited to see my stocking feet. Thank you, Matthew.”

“I…uh…”

“Now take your clothes and spread them out on the floor in front of you.”

“Okay…”

“And now I want you to kneel. Get on your knees. And tilt your webcam so I can see you…”

“I…okay…” What is Susan planning?…Is she…?

“Now look at my sexy stocking feet. See my toes wiggle. You like that don’t you?”

“Agg…!”

“Yes you do. You can’t resist. You don’t want to….”

“Ogg…!”

“Imagine my feet on you. Stroking you. Sliding all over. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Gah…!”

“Go ahead, Matthew. I give you my permission. Look at my feet and stroke…!”

“Ah gggg…”

If I had been capable of rational thought at that moment I would have been humiliated. Or at least I should have been. Right? But I was too far gone. I AM too far gone. Because there is only one thing that is important. And that is…

“Very good, Matthew…that’s it…now do it…do it for me… For me…!”

………….

When I regained my senses, I could hear Susan laughing. At me? Or, with me? Does it matter?

“Thank you, Matthew. That was quite a show. I really enjoyed it.”

“Oh. Ah….I’m not really sure what just happened. But I think I enjoyed it too.”

“Oh, you did.”

“Yes…”

“Now just one last thing…”

“Oh…?”

“You need to do some laundry…”

~~~~~~~

Are You Busy – Part 2b (or not 2b) is a post from: Femdom Fantasies. Authors retain copyright. If you enjoyed this story or have something to add, please leave a comment. Remember, feedback typically encourages writers to write more ;)

(Continued from Part One)

A few days later…

The telephone woke me at the crack of eight AM. Well I HAD been up late working in my studio…

“Hello…”

“Hello Matthew.”

“Susan. Hi.”

“Are you busy?”

“Ah. Well…” Actually I was in the middle of a something…but…

“I was thinking that you might like to help me with a little painting project today…”

“I’d be happy to…” Like I could refuse?

“Good. I’ll expect you in an hour.”

——————————————————————————-

An hour later found me standing on Susan’s doorstep. Susan opened the door dressed in an old sweatshirt, blue jeans and a sunny smile.

“Ah, right on time. I really appreciate you helping me with this. I think we can get a lot done today.”

“I–it’s my pleasure.”

“Mmmm. Well, I think we’ll start in the smaller room.”

We went to the smaller of the two empty rooms. Susan had assembled drop cloths, brushes, rollers, paint trays, sanding blocks and of course buckets of paint in a neat stack in the middle of the room.

“I think this room will be sort of a home office-slash-library.” Susan explained. “I’ve decided on this color for the walls, and this for the trim.”

“That will be nice. It looks like there’s no holes to Spackle. And not too much sanding to do either. We can pretty much just paint.” I held up the duffel bag I brought with me. “I brought some grubby clothes to paint in. I didn’t want to get my good clothes all dirty like last time…”

“Aw, but you looked so cute in my robe! But actually, I had something else in mind.”

“Oh?”

“I was thinking a coverall might be appropriate…”

“Coverall? Oh, like what professional painters wear.”

“Something like that…” Susan opened the closet door and pulled out a garment on a hanger. It WAS a one-piece suit, but not at all like what I was picturing in my mind. I had been thinking of a cotton overall like a mechanic or painter would wear over his clothes. But this suit had feet. And it was black and shiny, like Lycra and would be very tight…a unitard! Well, I suppose technically you COULD call it a coverall…

“No…” Was my immediate thought. “Is that…a coverall? I couldn’t…”

“Well of course you can. It will stretch to fit you. I think it would be very practical for you to wear while painting.”

“Oh..uh…”

“Here.” Susan held it out to me and my hand automatically took it. “Go try it on. I want to see what you look like in it.”

So I went down the hall to the bathroom, took off all my clothes and proceeded to try and slip into this…unitard…

“The zipper goes in back.” Susan’s voice came from behind me. “I thought you might need some help.”

“I seem to be stuck…my legs…” Susan took the unitard from me, turned it around and proceeded to demonstrate.

“You roll up the legs like this…put your feet in first…then work the legs up…it’s like putting on pantyhose…”

“Oh…” Suddenly the room was very warm. Must be something with the thermostat. “But I never…”

“Oh, really?” Somehow she didn’t believe me. “…It’s okay, I understand. Now…ready to try this? Hmmm, I think you should take off your underwear first, it will look better…”

“I…don’t suppose it’s worth trying to argue…”

“No, it isn’t…”

I slipped off my boxer briefs and stood naked in front of her.

“Now. We roll up the legs, stick your feet in down to the end…work the legs up to the waist…pull the body up…now put your arms in the sleeves…” Susan helped me into the unitard. She stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Now you just do up the zipper…”

I felt really odd and awkward, wearing this…thing…and my arms flailed behind me as I tried to work the zipper up my back… “Can’t seem…to…reach…”

“Here, let me…” I turned so that Susan could do the zip. With the zipper fully up, the unitard was even tighter. It was an odd feeling being covered in tight Lycra from my neck down to my toes… “There now. Let’s see how you look.” Susan put her hands on my shoulders and steered me so that we could both look into the mirror. “Hmmm, not too bad…”

My first thought was that I wasn’t in as good a shape as I had been telling myself. This tight Lycra really shows off everything. My second thought was that…Uh-oh, this tight Lycra REALLY shows off everything! My third thought was that, hey, I actually look sort of good. My fourth thought was that…Uh-oh. Back to my second thought…

“Like a superhero.” Did I say that out loud?

“Oh, I like that! My own personal superhero. To help me whenever I need him…” There goes Susan’s smile again…

Did I mention the tight Lycra showing off everything? And the thermostat malfunction? Somehow the suit was getting tighter…at least part of it was…

“It looks like you enjoy wearing this ‘coverall’. I knew it would be a good idea….”

“Ah, well…I didn’t mean…I…uh…”

“It’s okay. It’s like a tribute, really. Showing me how much you enjoy helping.”

“Well, sure…I…”

“Why don’t we get started on the painting…”

“Ah, good…” That will help take my mind off…things…

Back to the room we went.

“You should be all set. I’ve got some errands to run so I’ll just get out of your way. I should be back around lunchtime so I’ll check up on you then. Sound good?”

“Oh. Ah, sure. I should be able to put a dent into this by then.” Actually I was expecting Susan to stay and for us to paint together. But…

“Great! I really appreciate this, Matthew.”

“I’m happy to help…”

“Yes, I can see that…” And with a laugh, Susan was gone.

So I set to work. Painting. Because she wanted me to. Dressed in this unitard. Because she wanted me to. All by myself. Alone in her house. Being helpful. Being her superhero. Wanting to make her happy. Wanting to please her. Wanting to make her smile. Wanting to hear her praise. Wanting to hear her say my name… So much for working taking my mind off ‘things’. So far my labors and my situation have been working to keep me erect, instead of letting it go down. ‘Tribute’ indeed…!

After a while I took a little break (just a little one) to let some paint dry. I looked around just a bit for my clothes but they were not in the bathroom or anywhere else nearby. Do I need to mention that I did not dare look in what I assumed was Susan’s bedroom? Susan must have put mt clothes somewhere so they would be out of the way. That must be it. Without my wallet and keys, I really couldn’t leave. And I certainly wouldn’t go out in public dressed like this. Not that I wanted to leave, or had anywhere I needed to go. But still…I was amazed at how Susan had maneuvered me into this predicament.

Around one o’ clock Susan returned.

“I see you did get quite a bit done! This is excellent! Good Job!”

“Thank you…” Hearing those words from her made me feel really good; made everything worthwhile.

“Just a few spots to touch up, here…and here…and then the rest of course…you might even be done by this evening…”

“I’ll try my best.”

Susan walked over to where a paintbrush rested in a tray and picked it up. She then came over to me and painted a large “S” on my chest. It tickled. “Now it’s official. You are MY superhero.”

“I…uh…well…” I guess that proves you can’t blush furiously, have a throbbing erection and think of anything to say all at the same time. Just not enough blood.

“I picked up some sandwiches at the Deli. Let’s break for lunch.”

“Goo…good.” I gulped.

We sat again in the living room. Susan in her chair, I sat cross-legged on a cushion below. Eating our sandwiches and drinking Iced tea. Chatting about the area; things to do, places to go, ordinary stuff. Yes, very ordinary. Except for the fact that she was dressed normally and I was wearing a black Lycra unitard with a big “S” painted on my chest. And she was sitting in a chair and I was sitting on a cushion on the floor beneath her. And she was resting her sneaker-clad feet on my leg, casually using me as a sort of footstool. As if that was the most normal thing in the World for her to do. Quite ordinary. And…quite nice…!

“You know, Matthew, I believe you still owe me something…”

“Um, I do?” What could it be?

“Yes, from last time.” She tapped my thigh with her left foot. “Remember?”

“Uh?” Her foot was moving closer…and my penis was doing it’s best to meet it halfway…

“You didn’t kiss this one.”

“Oh…I…”

“But it’s okay, I’ll forgive you for now. I think it’s best if you finish up your painting before it’s time for you to go. I’ll collect on it some other time…”

“Oh…Uh, Thank you.” Wait. What just happened?

Susan then got up and collected the remnants of our lunch. “I’ve got a few chores to do myself. So I’ll let you get back to your painting.”

“Ah, yes…” That’s all well and good, provided I can stand up in this condition. ‘Tribute’ indeed!

So…back to work I went. Painting. Being helpful. Being her superhero… Susan was busy too; doing what, I don’t know. I suppose if it’s something I need to know about, she would let me know when the time comes…right?

It took me all afternoon but finally the walls and trim had their fresh coat of paint. I cleaned the brushes and tidied up.

“This has been a big help to me, Matthew. I can’t thank you enough!”

“I–I’m glad to help.” Why did I feel like I should be thanking her?

“This will look great with the furniture…my desk…and the bookshelves…I think I’ll need even more bookshelves…”

Even I could see where this was going…being helpful…being helpful…

“Well, let’s get you changed, it’s about time for you to go.”

“Oh, okay…” so back down the hall to the bathroom we went. We paused at the bathroom door.

“Wait a sec, let me get the zipper.” Susan reached behind me and unzipped the unitard. I felt the cool air on my back and a release of tension. Well, not everywhere…! “Okay, in you go..” I went into the bathroom alone and found my clothes waiting for me in a neat pile. I slipped off the unitard and put my own clothes back on. To tell you the truth, it felt a bit strange to be wearing them again. I put the unitard back on it’s hanger and left it hanging on the back of the bathroom door.

Susan again walked me out to my car. I got in and rolled down the window.

“I think tomorrow we need to start early. I would like you to be here at six ‘o clock, if you don’t mind…”

“Six…oh, ah….sure…” That will be fun.

“Even though I’m not officially taking over yet, I have to attend an early meeting at work and I want to get you all set up before I go.”

“No problem. I’ll be here…”

“Great! I really appreciate how helpful you’ve been, Matthew. My superhero.”

“Oh, I…yes…I’m glad to do it…”

“I know.” Susan leaned into my car and kissed me on the cheek. Just like last time. And she reached in and gave the erection tenting my pants a squeeze. Just like last time. But this time she didn’t let go.

“Now Matthew, I want you to THINK about me when you get home, understand?”

“Oog.”

“And when you are THINKING about me, I want you to be on your knees. Okay?

“Nngh.”

“Good. See you bright and early!”

“Brearly!”

After a few minutes I realized she had gone. Funny it still felt like she was holding my… I drove home carefully and when I got there I did some thinking. About Susan. On my knees…

———————————————————————————

At six AM Susan answered her door wearing her pink terrycloth robe and fuzzy slippers.

“Good Morning Matthew. Did you have a nice evening?”

“Oh, uh…yes…”

“I’ll bet. Come in. Did you have breakfast?”

“Not really…didn’t get much time…”

“Good. then you can make something for both of us. I usually have toast, cereal and some fruit. And be a dear and start the coffee. It’s all set up, you just need to push the button.”

“Sure. Got it.”

“I’m just going to take a shower and get dressed. be back in a bit…”

I went into the kitchen and was helpful. Coffee. Toast. Cereal bowls. Cereal. I found a grapefruit and cut it in half. Soon everything was ready and laid out on the counter. Finally I heard the click of heels as Susan appeared, transformed into the picture of a successful business woman. She was wearing a suit with a skirt just below the knee, that had a slit that showed just a bit of thigh as she moved. (Legs…what color is her hose? Black? Off black? Charcoal? Or…? Will there be a quiz?) Even her face seemed to have an air of increased authority and polish. It took me a minute to realize that was due to her skillfully applied makeup…

We ate breakfast standing up at the counter. It will be nice to finally be able to move furniture in here… When we were done I did the dishes. Being helpful.

“Now I think the other room will be a spare bedroom. For when I have guests…”

We walked down to the larger empty room. Susan had already arranged the painting supplies and also….

“Take this. Let’s get you changed.” Susan held out a unitard to me. This one was blue. I took it. I walked down to the bathroom, took off all my clothes and slipped it on, just as she showed me yesterday. I noticed that this one had a little loop of fabric at the neck next to the zipper, with a little ‘D’ ring in it. What could that be for? I went back to where Susan was waiting.

“I still can’t seem to get the zipper…” How DO women deal with those?

“Here, let me.” I turned to give Susan access to my back. She ran the zipper up to my neck and stopped. But her hands didn’t leave. She was doing something else–I felt her hands manipulating something…then I heard a sharp ‘click’…! “There! All secured!”

“A…a padlock?” My hands felt around the back of my neck.

“Uh huh. Why? Is there a problem?” Obviously she didn’t think so.

“I..uh..well…”

“Just think of it as me watching over you when I’m not here…okay?”

“Ah…I guess…it’s okay…” The way she said it, it seems to makes sense…doesn’t it?

“Now we still have to make you official.” Susan walked over to one of the paint cans and opened it. She carefully dipped a brush in and came over to where I was standing. She then painted a large ‘S’ on my chest, like yesterday. It tickled. “My helpful superhero.”

“Glad to be of service!” I saluted. Why did I do that?

“Yes I can see that!” Susan laughed. I seem to be ’saluting’ in more ways than one…oh well… “Mmmm. ‘Service’ and ’saluting’ also begin with ‘S’, don’t they?”

“Ah, yes they do.”

“Can you think of any other appropriate words that begin with “S’, Matthew?”

“Well…I…”

“Why don’t you think about it? I’ve got to go attend this meeting. But I should be back around lunchtime. I’m thinking about picking up some chicken. would you like that?”

“Whatever you want…”

“I know. But I’m asking YOU. Would YOU like that?”

“Yes. Please. Thank you.”

“Good. Well, I’ll let you get started. I’ve got to be going too. I really appreciate all your help, Matthew.”

“I guess I’m just super-helpful.” I had to laugh.

“Well you’re certainly dressed for the part!” And with a click of her heels Susan was gone.

And so I spent all morning prepping and painting. Alone. In Susan’s house. Being helpful. Being her superhero. Wearing a blue unitard with a big ‘S’ painted on my chest. Being super-helpful. My clothes are gone (I checked), My wallet. Keys and cellphone too. But I don’t need them. I have nowhere to go, nothing else to do but be helpful. Because that’s what she wants. And I want to please her. Because I’m her superhero. And I’m wearing the costume to prove it. Locked on with a small padlock. Because she wants it that way. Because I’m her superhero…Because…Because…Because I’m hers…

Superhero. Superhero…super…service…saluting. Saluting. Service. Submissive. Submit. Susan. “S”. Susan’s Superhero. Superhero serving Susan. Superhero saluting Susan. Sexy Superhero Salutes, Serves Susan. Submissive Superhero Serves Susan. Sweet, stupendous, special, sophisticated. So many words beginning with ‘S’.

Did I miss one? Sultry, single, soul, shrine, shop, shoes, sweat, silly, suck, swallow, saint, sorrow. Sassy, spectacular, score, style, symbolic, spoil. What else…?

Shortly after one PM Susan returned. “I see my superhero is making progress. Good job Matthew!”

“Ah, thank you.”

“Ready for Lunch? Or do you need…a little ‘break’ first?”

“Ah, yes…I could…well…I could really use the bathroom…” After all this time, could you blame me?

Susan just looked at me expectantly.

“Um, if you could just unlock the unitard, please. So I can use the bathroom. Please.”

“Certainly, Matthew. All you have to do is ask. Come here.” I went over to Susan and turned around, giving her access to my back. I felt her unlock the padlock and felt the release of tension as she pulled the zipper down. “There. Off you go.”

I felt like a Schoolboy who had to beg his Teacher for a bathroom pass. How did it happen that Susan has taken such control over me? I shouldn’t have allowed her to do this to me, right? A grown man having his clothes taken away–having to wear a unitard (locked!!)–and having to ask permission to go to the bathroom! This is not what I wanted…is it?

Or…is it?

I used the bathroom and went to find Susan. She was in the kitchen unpacking our Lunch.

“Ready for Lunch, Matthew?”

“Ah, yes…except…”

“Do you need help? With your zipper?”

“Uh…yes…I guess so.”

“You guess so? Aren’t you sure?” Susan sensed my confliction. “Don’t you like being my helpful superhero?”

“Yes. Yes I do.” Yes I do.

“So?”

“Will you please help me with my zipper?”

“Certainly. All you have to do is ask. Come here.” I went over to Susan and offered my back to her. I felt her slowly ease the unitard’s zipper up my back, sealing me in, the unitard getting tighter and tighter…until… “Shall I lock it, Matthew?”

“Yes. Please.” The sound of the padlock clicking shut reverberated around the empty kitchen.

“Now will my helpful superhero carry our plates, while I get the drinks?”

“Yes, of course.”

Once again we ate in the living room. Once again Susan sat in her chair, and I sat at her feet on a cushion on the floor. Well, technically, under her feet as she had slipped off the heels she had worn to her meeting and was resting her pantyhose clad feet on my Lycra clad thigh. Once again I was a helpful footrest. Once again it felt nice. I kept glancing at her toes as they randomly wiggled as Susan’s feet casually rested on my leg. Looking at the shine of her toenail polish as it gleamed through the film of nylon… Soft shiny silky sexy…

“Huh?”

“I asked if you thought you’d be finished painting that room today…”

“Oh. Uh, yes. I think so.”

“Good. I really appreciate how helpful you’ve been. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done.”

“I’m…I’m glad I could help. Anytime.” Once again I wanted to thank HER for letting me help!

“So what were you thinking about just now?”

“Uh, me? I was just…” This chicken must be spicier than I thought. I feel hot…

“Was it my stocking feet?”

“I…Uh…” No, not the chicken, it must me the thermostat again…

“Superheroes don’t lie. Do they, Matthew?”

“No they don’t.” I had to agree with that.

“So, MY superhero can’t lie to me. Can he?”

“No.” I had to confess. “I…I was thinking about your…your stocking feet…”

“So you DO like pantyhose after all…Interesting…”

“Well, that is…I…um…” I don’t think it’s possible for me to blush any redder than this…!

Suddenly her stocking feet were in my lap. “Every superhero has his weakness.” Silky soles slid sinuously and seized my throbbing Lycra-clad erection. “And I think I have found yours…!”

I was completely helpless as her soft silky soles massaged my manhood (my my!) Insistently urging me closer and closer to eruption….until….She stopped.

“Surrender. My superhero.”

“Surrender… I…surrender.” Spent but not satisfied, I slumped to the floor.

Susan stood over me and lifted up her left foot. She then placed her nlyoned sole on my face, over my mouth. I kissed it.

“I accept your surrender, my superhero. Your debt is now paid.”

“Ah…gurgle…” I think I said ‘thank you’.

“But you still have a job to finish. Superheroes always finish what they start. Isn’t that right, Matthew?”

To tell you the truth, I don’t know how I managed to finish painting. But I did. It must have made for a funny sight seeing me painting, dressed in that blue unitard with a big ‘S’ painted on my chest and a suspicious stain on my…well… But finally I was done. And Susan was pleased….

“You have been such a big help, Matthew…I really can’t thank you enough…”

“I’m glad you like it…”

“Yes, well, just a few spots to touch up…but…. Overall, good job.”

“Thank you, I can stay longer…if…”

“No. It’s time you got going. I have plans… ”

“Ah, well okay…” What? Plans? Susan?

“I’ve taken up your entire day as it is…”

“It’s no problem…glad to help…” Plans?

“Yes. Well. I will be calling on my superhero to help me again. Soon.”

“Great.” I tried to hide my disappointment. What plans could she have? Without me? Her superhero? But she wants me to come back…She wants me…

“Let’s get you changed.” Susan unlocked my unitard and pulled down the zipper. I went down to the bathroom, my clothes were waiting for me and I took a brief shower and changed. Again it felt strange to be wearing my ‘normal’ clothes again. To think just a few minutes ago I was wearing a unitard…and it was locked!

Susan again walked me out to my car. I was dying to ask her what her plans were (plans that don’t involve me!) but I couldn’t.

“Again, I can’t thank you enough for all your help, Matthew…”

“I…Ah, well it was my pleasure.” Actually, now that I think about it, she COULD have thanked me for my help…she came really close too! And it really WOULD have been my pleasure…!

“The movers will be here soon with the rest of my things. So there will be plenty of opportunity for my superhero to help me.”

“I’m looking forward to it…” Looking forward to more manual labor? Am I crazy?

“Oh, I’m sure you are!” Susan’s smile melted me. Well, not ALL of me…!

Susan then kissed me on both my cheeks, and my forehead too! And her hand found it’s way to the tent in my pants.

“When you get home.” She gave me a squeeze.

I drove home VERY carefully…

END PART TWO

~~~~~~~

Are You Busy? Part Two is a post from: Femdom Fantasies. Authors retain copyright. If you enjoyed this story or have something to add, please leave a comment. Remember, feedback typically encourages writers to write more ;)

Part I

“Excuse me, are you busy?”

I turned, expecting to see a woman holding a clipboard- those mall survey people can be very persistent. Instead I saw a woman burdened down with shopping bags. She was about my age, and while she was not supermodel pretty (Who is? Well, besides supermodels) or a bikini contest contestant (ditto), she was very pleasant looking, and exuded an air of…well, I guess you could say confidence. And authority.

“Um, no, not really…”

“I guess I went a bit overboard with my shopping…these are starting to get heavy…”

I am still not entirely sure why, but I felt like I needed to help her. So I offered to carry her bags. “Here, let me help.”

“Thank you. I just need to make one more stop, to buy some pantyhose. I hope you don’t mind…”

Actually I had been just wandering the mall and I really did not have any plans. “It’s okay, I’m not in a hurry…”

“Good. It’s just over here.” She set off with me in tow. Carrying all her bags. We ended up in front of a store, the kind that guys wistfully pass but rarely ever go in. Especially on their own. She marched right in but I hesitated on the threshold of this unknown territory. She noticed.

“C’mon, it’s okay. You’re with me.”

So I followed her past racks and displays of lingerie and other mysterious things until we reached the hosiery display.

“I’m starting a new job, you see. And I want to look professional. To make the right impression.”

You would think that I would be feeling very self-conscious by now, standing in a Lingerie store, by a hosiery rack holding the shopping bags of a woman I did not even know. Well, you’re right. I didn’t sign up to be a pack animal. I felt foolish, but…at the same time I felt something else; it felt kind of nice to be able to help her, she was after all counting on me now to carry her bags. And I was being given a peek into a world I knew little about.

“…Now nude of course, and black. Off black?…or Charcoal…or this?”

Huh? Was she asking me?

She was holding up some samples of gauzy material. “What do you think? Which color says ‘The Boss’ to you?”

Something was wrong with the stores heating system, all of the sudden it was very hot. “I, uh, well, they’re all black…they all look the same to me. I really…”

“Oh, you’re blushing!” She interrupted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would affect you so much. I just wanted a male opinion.”

“No, it’s okay! I’m not…bothered, I like them…” I tried to save face.

“You like pantyhose?” She gave me an impish grin.

“Well, that is on women…you know…it makes their legs look nice…and…” This is not going well.

“So, which are your favorite colors?”

“Ah, well, you know…colors… I like, well…” I tried to remember what little I had seen in fashion magazines. “I like when women wear colors that match their outfits…”

“Go on.” She pressed. Boy, they really need to fix the heat in here…

“And fishnets are nice…”

“All guys LIKE it when we wear fishnets. But they don’t really ‘go’ for the office.”

“Yeah…I mean, no. You’re right.” Great. Now she must think I’m a pervert sex maniac.

“Well, I think I’ll get these, for now.” She decided. “I’ve taken up too much of your time already. I shouldn’t keep you from what you were doing.”

“No, really, it’s okay. I had nothing to do.”

We went to check out.

Now I’m not a mind reader, but I knew exactly what the sales clerk was thinking. Seeing me burdened down with shopping bags, standing by as ’she’ made her purchase the clerk thought: “My what a well-trained guy he is.” I just know it. And, part of me was offended. But, part of me sort of liked it…

Finally we left the mall, and found her car, which, of course, was at the opposite end of the parking lot from mine. She opened the trunk and I put her bags in. It felt good to finally put them down. It felt good to have done my ‘good deed’ for the day. And, it actually felt bad that it was now over.

“Oh, where are my manners.” She extended her hand. “I’m Susan.” Her hand was soft and warm and her grip was firm. It felt nice.

“Oh, right! I’m Matthew.”

“Listen, you’ve been a big help to me. But I feel really awful taking up so much of your time. You probably had plans and I ruined them…”

“No, really…it’s okay. I really had nothing planned.”

“You sure? It must have been quite a shock to have someone approach you ‘out of the blue’ and ask for help…”

“Well, yes.” I laughed. “I certainly don’t get random women come up to me every day and ask for my help. But…to tell you the truth, I kind of liked it…um…you know, being able to be a ‘good Samaritan’, and all…”

“Uh huh…” She cocked her head quizzically.

“No, really. It was my pleasure.” Why did I feel the need to defend myself? “I really didn’t have anything to do this afternoon…”

“Okay. Well, I’m glad I didn’t ruin your afternoon.” She thought for a moment. “If you’re still not busy…no, I couldn’t impose…”

“What is it?”

“Well, Matthew, I could really use your help…”

__________________________________________________________________________________

The directions she gave me were good ones. I made it to her house just a few minutes after she did. It wasn’t very far from the mall, and it’s not too far from my own home. She was new to the area, and was actually still in the process of moving in. The house was a neat bungalow, older, and well-kept.

“…a dear old couple, he kept a workshop of some kind in the garage…Unfortunately they left behind some, I don’t know what…and the trash men won’t take it from the garage. They say it needs to be on the curb. So if you could just move it from the garage out to the curb…”

I looked over the rusty bits of metal, dirty wood and barrels of, to put it in technical terms: ’stuff’. Man stuff. This is a job for a man. “Sure, no problem. I can do it for you.”

She smiled. “Wonderful! This will be a big help! I’ve got the movers coming next week with the rest of my things, and I need room to store them until I figure out where to put them in the house. Why don’t I let you get started and I’ll go make some tea…”

I suppose at this point I should have wondered just what I had got myself into and why. I just met her and now here I am moving this crap (another technical term) from out of her garage to the curb. She probably could have just bribed the trash guys to do it. Or paid some neighborhood kid. But I didn’t wonder about any of those things. I just thought about what a great smile she gave me when I offered to help her. I thought about how nice helping her makes me feel. And I thought about how pleased she will be when I am done. She will be pleased with ME. And that’s important, isn’t it? Besides, moving this stuff is really no big deal…

It actually didn’t take long. But it did make me sweaty. And very dirty. When I was done I walked from the garage to the back door of the house following where she had gone after she left me. I hesitated on the porch, I couldn’t just barge in, after all. So I knocked. After a bit the door opened and Susan was there.

“Um, I’m all done…”

“Great! I was just trying on a few things, to see what they look like together. give me a minute and I’ll come take a look…”

So I stood there on the porch while she got ready. Ready for her inspection.

In no time she was back, wearing a dress. A dress which was conservative yet feminine. Good for the office, I guess. And pumps with ankle straps, and it looked like she was even wearing some of the pantyhose I ‘helped’ her buy.

“You look nice.” I always know the right thing to say.

“Thanks. It’s hard to get that balance, you know. Between being feminine and business-like. You guys have it easy…”

“I dunno. I gave up the corporate rat race years ago. Now I work from home. Well, actually not my home, but my studio. It’s a whole separate building. I set my own hours and work when inspiration hits…”

“Leaving you plenty of free time for being helpful…”

A smarter man than I would have seen that coming.

“Let’s take a look at the garage.”

As I had hoped, she was quite pleased with my efforts, and I was quite pleased with her praise.

“Matthew, this is such a big help. Now when the movers come, there will be somewhere to put my things until I’m ready to move them into the house..”

“Glad I could help.”

“Now we can have that tea. Follow me…”

So I did. I followed behind as she lead the way back to her house. Her heels making a very pleasantly feminine ‘click’ on the walkway as we went. When we got to the porch, she opened the door and turned to let me in. Suddenly, a frown appeared on her face.

“Oh, dear. This won’t do. Your clothes are filthy.”

“Yeah, it was a bit dirty…”

“I can’t let you into the house like that. You’ll have to take them off.”

“What, here?”

“Of course. wait here. I’ll get you a robe…”

Susan went inside. I waited on the porch. She returned a few minutes later with a terrycloth robe. Naturally it was pink.

“You can wear this while I wash your clothes. They ought to be done by the time we finish our tea.”

Of course she expected me to strip right there on the porch. I hesitated.

“C’mon. no one is watching…”

That wasn’t entirely true. She was watching. But it was unlikely that anyone passing by would be able to see anything. So I took off my shirt and pants, put on the robe, and pulled off my shoes, socks and underwear. Susan took my clothes from me and finally let me inside. The house was as neat and well maintained on the inside as it was on the outside, but was sparsely decorated. In fact, it was mostly empty, not surprising since most of her belongings had yet to arrive.

“Why don’t you jump in the shower for a minute. It’s just down the hall. I’ll bring the tea into the living room and see about your clothes…”

I followed where she had indicated, found the bathroom and jumped in the shower. Soon I was clean, toweled off, and back in the pink robe. I made my way back towards the kitchen and found Susan in the living room.

“Everything OK? I started the washer when I heard the shower go off. it shouldn’t be long. Come sit down and have your tea.”

“Yeah, great.”

At this point there was only one chair in the room, and naturally Susan was in it. She had arranged some cushions on the floor for me to sit on. Which I did. We sat sipping our tea and eating cookies, her in her chair, and me sitting on a cushion on the floor at her feet. If this was a sign, I didn’t recognize it at the time.

“I guess you can’t wait for all your stuff to get here. So you can decorate.”

“Well, yes. But there’s so much to do beforehand. It’s kind of nice not having all those things in the way. For instance, there’s a couple of rooms that are totally empty.”

“I noticed.” I noticed.

“It would be really great to get those rooms painted before my things arrive.”

“That’s a good idea.” I noticed.

“I know exactly what I want done. It’s just a matter of doing the work. And with the rooms empty, it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

A buzzer from somewhere beyond the kitchen called for attention.

“Time for the dryer, be back in a sec.”

Susan got up, stepped over me and clicked out to the laundry. After a few minutes the click of her heels returned and she sat back in the chair. A look of pain briefly shot across her face.

“It’s not my clothes, is it?”

“No, it’s these heels. It’s going to take a while before they’re broken in.” She reached down and rubbed the toe area of her right foot.

“They look nice.”

“Thank you, they’re a bit higher than I normally wear for work, but I think they will give me some added authority.”

“Ah, for your new job”

“Yes, I transferred here to the home office. I’ll be heading my own department.”

She was still rubbing the toe of her shoe– and since she was still in some discomfort, and since I was closer…

“Here, let me help…”

“Oh, would you?”

I took her foot in my hands and she sank back into the chair. I unbuckled the ankle strap and slid her shoe off. Her toes wiggled gratefully after being freed from their confinement as I carefully laid her shoe off to the side. I repeated the procedure with her left shoe. My hands then began to rub and caress her silky soles and toes and all of the sudden the room became very quiet, the only sounds being the soft hissing of my hands working over her nylon covered feet. Everything else just faded away and became unimportant. Being here, dressed in her pink bathrobe, sitting at her feet, giving her a foot massage, it just seemed…right.

I was grateful for the generous folds of her bathrobe, because it hid my now throbbing erection. Or so I thought.

“Tell me what you’re thinking now.” Susan purred.

“I would like to kiss your foot.” Ha! I said that without thinking. Well, without using my brain.

“Go ahead. You have my permission.”

Something passed between us then, something powerful and permanent. It was as if we crossed some sort of boundary and we both knew there was no going back. There would be no question now who is in charge. Who would lead and who would follow. It was now fully out in the open and we– I, could never pretend otherwise.

I pressed my lips to the sole of her right foot and inhaled the musky sweetness. My head swam and a buzzing sound filled my ears.

My clothes were finally dry.

When I was dressed, Susan walked me out to the driveway, to my car. I got in, and rolled down the window.

“You were a big help today, I really appreciate it.”

“I–it was my pleasure. Anytime.”

“I’ll let you know about the painting project, it will probably be in a day or two. So keep your schedule open.” She laughed.

“Painting. I…Of course, I’d be happy to.”

“Good.” Susan then leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. She reached down to the erection tenting my pants and gave it a brief squeeze. “You’ll think about me when you get home, won’t you?”

“I will.” I groaned.

And I did.

*To be continued*

~~~~~~~

Are You Busy? is a post from: Femdom Fantasies. Authors retain copyright. If you enjoyed this story or have something to add, please leave a comment. Remember, feedback typically encourages writers to write more ;)