Two long-time friends get tickets to a rather unconventional Halloween costume party, but then mistakes seem to be happening to make their plans for fun seem downright strange and a little unnerving.
This is a very out-of-comfort-zone story, in a sub-genre that I've NEVER written in. I would hope that you remember this fact if/when you decide to write any comments. This is a huge psychological risk for me to venture into this uncharted, unexplored territory, risking biting, discouraging, negative comments. Please bear that in mind. If you don't like the story, please keep it to yourself. Sorry to seem so paranoid, but after the last year of my life, taking this chance is a huge step that I almost didn't take.
Really, Michelle, it was all a big mistake. Neither of us intended to end up this way.
Okay, let me start at the beginning. I know you're going to enjoy learning how this all happened.
Tom and I were best friends going back to junior high. We did just about everything together – double dates, same parties, same group of friends. In fact, we went to the same college. All that time, he'd been a bit pushy and arrogant, especially when it came to bragging about his exploits with girls, while I was a little more reserved.
Yeah, I know it's hard to believe, but I was.
Well, it all started before Halloween two years ago. Tom scored a couple of invites to what was supposed to be the sexiest costume party and contest, but the strange thing was, we had to go on-line to get our tickets. We had to fill out our height, weight, measurements, and so on, which seemed a little odd, but we'd been drinking a bit while we watched our college football team lose, so we really didn't think much of it.
Later that night, I got an e-mail with a link to claim my ticket. I was kind of curious why I ended up on a web page that was a questionnaire about Tom. Still being more than a little drunk, I decided to have a little fun with the form, and after I submitted it, I got to the ticket page. It said to print the page, and that was my ticket, so I went ahead and followed the instructions. Then it said that my costume would be delivered to me the day of the party, and a cab would take me to the party. A little odd, but we were going to the best costume party in the city, so what the hell, right?
The day of the party, I was a little concerned, because neither Tom or I had costumes, despite the instructions that they would be delivered. I decided to have a beer while I was waiting, to help calm my nerves. I had no idea what kind of costume I'd be getting, so you can understand how I was more than a little bit nervous. When the doorbell rang in the middle of the afternoon, I almost jumped out of my skin, I was so tense. Then things got really strange. The guy at the door handed me a garment bag and a box. Before he left, I opened the bag.
My first thought was, 'Holy crap!" It was a dominatrix costume – all black leather, with the works. The delivery man was already leaving, so I stopped him and told him that this was a mistake. It wasn't my costume. He checked his form, and sure enough, costume number two hundred forty-three was listed with my name and apartment. I was in shock, I guess. I couldn't think of what to say, and the beers I'd had didn't help. He left before I could say another word.
I had a sinking feeling as I took the costume into my apartment. I must have sat on a chair staring at the costume for twenty minutes, hoping, I guess, that it was a bad dream. But the party was supposed to be the best party, with lots of sexy girls. In the end, I convinced myself that maybe it was supposed to be kinky and stuff.
For some reason, as I stared at the costume, I couldn't help thinking about what I'd look like in it. Finally, I decided to try it on. I found that it came with breast forms, garter belt, stockings, wig – the works, and some accessories, like a riding crop, a leash and collar, handcuffs. Kinky stuff. I should have stopped right then and called it off, but Tom and I had _never_ backed out on each other. We'd done a lot of strange crap through the years, all because we had each other's back. I couldn't welch on the deal. So I tried it on.
I have to admit, it looked not bad. My hairy legs were pretty ugly, but the stiletto-heel calf-tight boots covered a lot of that. The damndest thing was, the costume fit me perfectly! It was like it was made for me.
I figured what the hell, in for a penny, and so on. If I was going to wear the costume, I was going to do it right. I shaved my legs, my armpits, and my chest, and then shaved my face pretty closely. I followed the instructions to put on the breast forms, and used makeup that came with it to blend them in so they looked pretty natural. Then I put the costume and wig on again. I was pretty surprised when I looked in the mirror. I looked a little butch, I thought, but I also looked like a bitch dominatrix.
I grabbed a bite to eat, and finished just as the doorbell rang again. I was almost afraid to answer it, but I did. It was the guy to take me to the party. Not having a place to put my keys or wallet, I stuffed things into a clutch purse, locked the door, and followed him out. Then it was surprise number two. The car was a limo! I hadn't expected that. I started to think that the party could be quite interesting after all.
I was surprised when the limo pulled up to another apartment building – I could tell that it wasn't where the party was. When I asked, the driver just told me that he was supposed to bring me here, and then tell me to go to apartment 4G. When I argued, he said that was a necessary stop before I went to the party. I was to go to the apartment, and he'd be waiting when I got done.
Yeah, I was nervous. Scared, in fact. But also, I was pretty curious. This wasn't the party, I was dressed as a dominatrix, and I had no idea what Tom was up to. It wasn't any of our friends' places, so I figured he hadn't arranged some trick. I didn't know what else to do, so I went up the elevator to 4G. In the elevator, one guy looked at me kind of suspiciously, so I just frowned at him, trying to look as menacing as I could. I guess it worked – he looked down and moved away from me.
I was totally surprised when the woman who answered the door looked at me like she was expecting me. She was dressed similarly to me, in a leather dominatrix fetish outfit, and in the first moment, I knew that she was used to being in charge. She introduced herself as Mistress Kathy, and told me – not asked – that I was the new mistress. I kind of laughed nervously and told her it had to be a mistake. She told me – by name – that I was supposed to be here before going to the party. She smiled mischievously and told me that it would only take a little while, and it would help me win best costume if that's what I wanted.
The next thing I knew, she started correcting me – my posture wasn't dominant enough. I needed to stand like I was in charge. I had to _be_ in charge. She demonstrated – on my backside – how to use a riding crop to keep a slave in line! She made me strut a little bit, always criticizing and berating me when I wasn't sultry or dominant enough for her. It was like a mini boot-camp for Doms.
Then she led me into a room, which was all red satin, with handcuffs on the bed posts, and a variety of 'punishment' toys on shelves and about the room. What really blew my mind, though, was that there was a man chained by his legs to a ring in the wall. He wouldn't make eye contact.
Mistress Kathy used her riding crop to make him look up at her, just like she'd demonstrated for me, and told her that I was a new mistress, and that he was to please me as much as he pleased her. Then she told me it was time for my next lesson.
To be honest, I thought she was going to do the same thing to me – chain me to a wall. Instead, though, she started instructing me on how to dominate the slave boy. I could see he was pretty excited by the whole dominatrix-slave thing, and after a bit, I started getting pretty turned on, too.
Well, to make a long story short, Kathy instructed me on how to use tone of voice, words, facial expressions, posture, and my 'tools' to dominate another person. Then I really got off when I had to order the slave to give me a blowjob, and I had to spank him as he did so. Damn, it was so exciting! I never knew I could feel like that from ordering people around. It was kind of a good feeling. It was nice to feel in charge after all the time that Tom had been the pushy, kind of bossy one.
The lessons went for an hour and a half or so. By the time I left, I loved the feeling of power that I'd learned from Mistress Kathy. It was a feeling I'd never experienced before. She said I could always take more lessons if I wanted. I told her no, that this was only for the costume contest, but she looked at me like she knew I'd be back.
When I got to the party, Tom was there, in a pretty little French maid costume. He was pretty pissed that I was late, and he started to chew me out. All of Mistress Kathy's lessons clicked together – he'd been bossing me around for all of our lives, and after the instruction from Kathy, I didn't want to take any more. I loudly commanded him to be silent, like a good slave, while I cracked him across the ass with my riding crop. The look on his face was precious! I wish I'd have had a camera. He started to protest again, so I smacked him once more, and ordered him to play his role. By that point, a lot of people were watching us, so he had to get into his character. I could tell he wasn't happy, and somehow, that made me feel even more excited. He was angrier when I put a leash on him and led him around like he was my property. I wouldn't let him speak without my permission, and I made sure he called me 'Mistress Petra'. But there was something in his expression, and his eyes, that was confusing me. It was almost like he expected me to treat him that way.
I finally got so horny that I couldn't take any more. I led my slave off to a back room, and after locking the door, I glared at him and told him he was going to pleasure me. He started to protest, now that he didn't have to stay in character, but a threatening gesture with my riding crop shut him up. His eyes were wide as saucers; I don't think he was used to being ordered around, and he didn't know how to handle the situation.
I don't quite know why, but I decided to have some fun. I handcuffed him to an upright of a shelf, and then I began to spank him. He tried to protest, but when I slapped him across the face, he shut up.
He was actually getting pretty excited by the whole thing! I couldn't believe it – his little skirt was tented out in front, and he was breathing kind of heavy. Then he had an orgasm, just from me spanking him! That's when I decided to do something about my own excitement. I'd never, ever thought of doing what I did, but I couldn't help myself, especially after the training from Mistress Kathy. From what I'd learned from her, and from seeing how excited sissy Tom was from being dominated, I decided to humiliate him a little more. I pulled down his panties and popped his little cherry.
Maybe he was bi, or maybe all the stuff with girls was just compensating for repressed feelings, but he came again from me fucking him. In any event, he really got me off. It was overpoweringly arousing to dominate and humiliate him. When I was done, I brushed my riding crop against his cheek, which was wet from his tears, and made him thank me. The funny thing was, his cute little dress was even wetter from him coming again. He'd gotten off on what I'd done to him.
We went back out to the party– he was walking a little funny, but he seemed only too eager for me to dominate him the rest of the night. There were a few people who gave me knowing looks as I strutted around with my slave.
Oh, that. We didn't win. At least, not the contest. But I won possession of a sissy slave! At first, I wondered if I hadn't ruined our friendship, but the next weekend, when we were supposed to be watching the ballgame, I decided to slip into my dominatrix outfit. The poor boy nearly creamed his shorts when I walked into the room.
Look at her sitting over there. Isn't she adorable? I had her do all that. She's on hormones, and we got her implants a couple of months ago. Look at how she's getting excited knowing that we're talking about her. Her skirt is tenting up again. Oh, sure! Why not.
Tammi! Come over here. On your knees, bitch!
This is my friend, Michelle. You may call her Mistress Michelle. I want you to please her. So get down and show her pleasure, slave!
I started on hormones a month after the party, and I came out at work a couple of months after that. Yeah, they're natural. Lucky me that the women in my family are adequately endowed. I got her on hormones about the same time, and then I made her come out to her family and friends. By that point, we'd been playing mistress-slave every weekend, and some weeknights, and he was more than ready to come out.
Yeah, some of her old girlfriends were a little upset, but so what? I've had some of them in threesomes with Tammi, and some just by myself, while I make my slave watch. They're pretty good in the sack, too. I've got two of them pretty well trained now. They're the start of my little harem.
If you don't mind, I'm going to have Tammi's little shemale pussy while he works on you. I'm getting horny just telling you about the big mistake, and how it changed our lives.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudo!
Click the Good Story! button above to leave the author a kudo:
And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks.