He gave me a date, a week from now. And those seven days ached. The anticipation was almost overwhelming. I had white stocking, white panties, but I didn't touch them. I wouldn't allow myself release. Perhaps I was scared, if I released my sexual tension, would I chicken out?
After a few nights I couldn't take it, so I put on the stockings and put the toy in. But I didn't come. From day till night, my every waking moment was eclipsed by fantasy. What was coming, what it would feel like, what it would do to me. I was powerless, but I had surrendered this power freely. This was a liberating sensation that made my skin shiver, and my cock strain.
I sat at my desk working, but all I could think of was hands on my hips, my forehead resting against the ground. A heavy cock inside me, slapping into me. Being used. Wanted. Enjoyed.
I could barely wait.
Finally the day came. I put my gifts into a bag and drove towards his house. He had given me an address. I trusted him, even if I wasn't sure why. My abandonment at this point was complete. I had to go further. To become. I parked outside, then sent him a text; "I'm here."
His response was immediate. "Get dressed. Walk up the driveway."
It was dark out, but it wasn't that late, what if someone saw me? In my wig. My stockings and skirt. They would know. They knew meat when they saw it. A whore. A giddy, willing slut who was walking straight into a nest of grabbing hands, sweat and throbbing cocks...
God I was hard. I underdressed and redressed quickly in my seat. I was physically changing. Wow. I put on my wig carefully. To complete my change I had a tight red dress that I had brought. I never actually thought I'd wear it, but as my hands pulled it from its bag, they were trembling with excitement. It was so soft. I could be soft. I could wear this and be pretty. I wanted that so much.
After I was done, I got out of the car and took a deep breath. I still had a coat on over the dress, and my long blonde wig looked good at a distance. Did I look good? Passable? Would some guy looking out the window see me and feel his cock twitch?
Harder now than I believed it was possible to be, I walked up the driveway. The house was a little back from the road, and all too soon I was hidden from prying eyes. Even so. The night air was amazing on my skin. The stockinged legs. The feel of the fabric. I felt everything in a rush. I felt foolish. I felt like I should have done this years ago. I felt embarrassed. I felt joyous. I felt not just aroused, but sexual. An odd thought, but it felt right.
When I got to the door he was standing there, looking at me. His gaze went up and down. He smiled. No, he leered. Oh god. "You might think you're ready," his smile widened, "but you're not. You look amazing."
I remembered the text. Four cocks. One slut. I took a deep breath, then committed. "Your slut's here. Where do you want me, sir?" My voice was a little shaky, but I got to the end of the sentence with my head held high, my words clear.
My want clear.
He stood away from the door, smiling. "Upstairs, first door on the right."
As I walked past he grabbed my arse and gave it a firm squeeze. "Missed this," he said.
"It's yours." I said it instinctively, my submissive fantasy kicking in.
He smiled. "Not tonight."
Oh. Oh wow.
I walked to the stairs. My foot wobbled on the first step, but I ignored it. By the time I got to the top I was walking stiffly, but not unsteadily. Part of that was because of my cock pushing at my dress. I walked into the room he'd indicated, and paused in the doorway. Three men were sitting inside. Two were on a couch, a third was sitting at the foot of a bed. Their eyes saw me and they all smiled.
I made a nervous smile of my own, feeling foolish. My cock was stiff, they could all see it. I thought of my wig and lipstick, I must look like a mess to them. I expected them to laugh. Instead, they regarded me with a mixture of hunger and delight. My lover (my master?) was behind me, pushing me gently further into the room.
"Here she is," he said. "Candy."
I had been given a name. Something silly and girly. Unmade and remade for their pleasure. I had all the control in the world to turn around and walk out, instead I let that control slip through my fingers. Gladly. I smiled, embarrassed, and murmured a weak "Hello."
"Tell them why you're here," my master nudged me.
"I'm-" I faltered for a heartbeat. Then I just said it. "I'm yours. Your slut."
I was so hard now that it hurt.
My master made introductions. "Slut, four cocks. Four cocks, slut."
