5 comments/ 11086 views/ 7 favorites Friday the 13th Pt. 01 By: Slave_Georgina This is my first attempt at fiction. Part 1 is to set up the following parts and act as a foundation for the story. Please bear with me and I hope you will find the completed story enjoyable. My thanks go to SlaveGirl70 for her editing skills and to LunarSirius for his review and ideas. ***** Ha! I should have known that if my life was going to take a bad turn it would do so on Friday the 13th! Don't get me wrong; I'm not at all superstitious. Thirteen is my 'lucky number,' if there is such a thing, I chose it to deliberately cock-a-snook at superstition. But I should have known better than to indulge my fetish on that day. I am very fortunate that my wife and I are of very similar height and build and even share the same shoe size. In fact, previous girlfriends have said that they liked dating a smaller man and that my diminutive stature and build lends me a somewhat feminine appearance. After dressing up 'Frank'n'Furter' style for several trips to the touring Rocky Horror Show, one even said "You could make a quite beautiful woman if you went the whole hog." My mostly hairless body also helps with this illusion. I can reliably say that I have her, and that show, to thank for my cross dressing and ironically the cross dressing to thank for our eventual parting. However I got, and still get, a real sexual buzz from wearing lingerie, stockings and stiletto's. Scarred by the comments made during the split with that girlfriend, its been a secret I have kept from my family since we met and I have managed that with the help of a somewhat fortuitous distribution of working hours. My wife works regular Monday to Friday hours but I work a rolling shift rota and have a different two days off every week. I am also on occasion required to stay away overnight which facilitates overnight cross dressing; i.e. sleeping in lingerie and/or a nightie of some sort. On with the events of that Friday which was the first of this weeks two day 'weekend' break. It started as usual with me changing into some of my wife's lingerie and a pair of stiletto's to spend the day doing chores, watching TV, using the computer, etc. around the house. Occasionally I would wear a dress or short skirt and top. I know that my wife has no idea I use her clothing as I always wash, dry, iron and replace everything I use and change into 'normal' male clothing before she gets home from work. This morning I went to the shed to collect a few 'extras' I had hidden away from the family in a toolbox and then had a quick shower, dried off and got ready for the mornings session. Today I had decided that a little self bondage was in order to lift my spirits after a difficult week at work so I set to work choosing some sexy apparel. First, a black and red boned, satin basque with 6 fasteners, a pair of matching lace knickers and a pair of 15 denier, sheer, black, seamed stockings. Next I chose a pair of, 5" stiletto heeled court shoes in black patent leather and, to complete the ensemble, a sexy LBD (Little Black Dress) of my wife's. As for the self bondage, my wife and I enjoy the occasional light bondage session so the pink, fluffy handcuffs, soft ropes and blindfold were all behind the seldom used jumpers and cardies in the bottom drawer. The extras I had earlier collected from the shed were a pair of rubber pants with a penis sheath and rear sheath, a posture collar, a head harness with an attached red ball gag, and a 'ring' vibrator to wrap around the base of my penis which I had modified to run off the mains. Now I was pretty much set to go. Our bed is a King Size, metal framed, four poster with an intricately designed head and foot that was just right for securing ropes, etc. I first tied the handcuff key to a 9" piece of string and then lit a candle. Dripping some molten wax onto the light bulb of an angle poise lamp I then pressed the key into the wax before it set and clamped the lamp itself to the bed head. I tied off the string to the railings 6" above where my hands would be cuffed. I took the plugs for the lamp and the ring vibrator and plugged them into a digital timer which I then set for two and a half hours and plugged in to the wall. The time was now just after 10 so I would have till 12:30 before the release process would start and I anticipated being free by 1pm. Now it was time to start enjoying myself. The rubber pants were a little tough to pull up today so I powdered the inside and they slid on a little easier. By the time I had pulled them into place the anticipation of what was to come had caused my penis to swell to a semi-stiff state so it was easy to work into the sheath. I left the rear sheath unused and tucked inside the pants to prevent it flapping about and getting in the way. The basque was easy to put on, if a little tight, as it had a panel of slightly stretchy material to either side of the hook and eye fastenings that ran all down the back. The satin material was soft and smooth against my skin and my penis continued growing into the sheath as I located each hook into its partner eye. Then I slid my right foot into one of the stockings and pulled the sensuous material over my calf. As I stood to smooth the stocking up and across my thigh, my feelings of arousal were pushing my penis further into the sheath of tight rubber. I clipped three fasteners onto the band at the top of the stocking, checked my seam was straight and then took a moment to try and relax. There was no way I wanted to prematurely explode and have nothing left for the 'crowning glory' of my mornings work. After a minute or so I adjusted the sheath around my penis to ensure that my tip was settled firmly into the end of the sheath and the extra length was gathered along its length thus allowing easier and less stimulating growth. The donning of the second stocking was no less titillating and by now my penis was fully extended into its rubber confinement. I placed the vibrator around the base of my penis, slipped my stockinged feet into the shoes and then pulled on the lacy knickers. The shoes gave me that towering feeling I always get which adds to the overall feeling of sexiness I enjoy from the whole experience. Obviously there was no real excitement obtained from the knickers as the rubber pants prevented all contact with my skin, but they did hold my imprisoned penis in a downward trajectory preventing the 'coat-hook' syndrome under the dress. Before outfitting myself with the dress I had to fill my wife's B-cup with something to prevent the basque and dress looking crumpled at the front. A pair of thick, woollen, knee-length ski socks rolled up and placed one in each cup did the trick and that LBD came next. Obviously although I am a similar size to that of my wife I do not have 'all the right curves in all the right places', as they say, so although the dress fitted me it was a bit snug. I checked the mirror and as I smoothed the dress down across my body the hem covered my stocking tops by just over an inch, the sort of thing that would have turned heads in the street. "Is she or isn't she?" I had to say that, apart from the slightly lumpy breasts, I cut a pretty fine figure. Some 'real' fake breast and a wig would finish off the look perfectly, but I'm not going that far as I am certainly not going out like this! Now came the awkwardness of the self bondage. First I checked that the lamp, key, plug and timer were all correctly set. I then made sure that all my implements of bondage were within easy reach of where I sat on the bed. I used one rope to tie my knees together by wrapping the rope in a figure 8 pattern around my legs above the knee 3 times and then below the knee 3 times. I tied the rope off by wrapping it around itself between my knees until there was no movement anywhere in the ropes. I used the second rope to secure my ankles which I achieved in a more complicated pattern. Starting with the centre of the length of rope I placed it under both stiletto heels and then over the top of the arch of my foot to cross over left to right and vice-versa. The ends were then passed around the back of my ankles and I continued with 2 loops around both legs just above the ankles, after which the ropes were crossed over back under the shoes. I finally passed one end of rope over the arch of my left foot and then down between both feet and the same with the other end over my right foot. The two ends were then tied off onto the frame at the foot of the bed. I then smoothed out my clothing, adjusted the route of the vibrator wire and fixed the posture collar firmly around my neck. I pulled the harness over my head and inserted the ball gag deep into my mouth. It was a full head harness with two straps extending from the ends of the ball around to the back of my neck whilst two more travelled from an inch past either side of my mouth up past my nose to meet in an inverted 'V' between my eyes. From there one strap went over the centre of my forehead to split back into two just behind the crown of my head. These last two straps joined with each of the first straps about 2" in from the buckle and last hole of the belt respectively. I fixed the straps on the harness as tightly as I could behind my head which pulled the ball gag deep into my mouth, stretching my jaws wide open. I slipped the blindfold over my head and then closed one end of the handcuffs around my left wrist and fed the other end through the railings at the head of the bed. I then adjusted the blindfold over my eyes with my right hand and finally placed that wrist through the open end of the handcuffs and locked them in place. Masturbating whilst cross dressed was all very well but to also be helpless whilst climaxing was as close as I could get to being a girly slave brought off by a Dominatrix without the embarrassment of my wife discovering my 'deviant' fantasy. Now I was trapped until the timer went off, in about two hours time, turning on the ring and the lamp. The vibrator would send me into a climax whilst I struggled against my bonds and the lamp would melt the wax and drop the key on the end of the string to within reach of my cuffed hands. Flawless! All I had to do now was imagine being dominated, abused and teased by my wife. This would keep me amused and excited until the vibrator gave me that much anticipated orgasm at which time I would unlock the cuffs and free myself to do the boring chores. If only I had the guts to actually ask my wife for this treatment but our relationship is too good in all other ways to risk her condemnation and rejection. I had been relaxing for about an hour, I suppose, and was just beginning to doze off when there was a knock on the front door. I thought nothing of it, really, as the postman would leave a note and I would collect whatever it was from the sorting office tomorrow. Then the curse of Friday the 13th struck! I heard a key turn in the front door and it opened! Friday the 13th Pt. 02a Without spoiling the surprise I can say that Pt. 2 of this story has been split into two sections, the reason for which will become obvious once you start reading Pt. 2b. For maximum enjoyment please read FRIDAY THE 13TH Pt. 01 first if you have not already done so. Once again my thanks go to SlaveGirl70 and LunarSirius for their assistance in editing and tweaking this submission. ***** I heard a key turn in the front door and it opened! "Hi Dad! You home?" called out my step-daughter. It felt like my heart had stopped completely, let alone missed a beat! The front door closed and I heard her footsteps disappear towards the kitchen. "Dad?" she called out the back door into the garden and obviously got no reply. I struggled against my bonds but knew before I started that I had done too good a job and it would be pointless. My only hope was that she would realise I wasn't home and leave without venturing upstairs. But, of course, it was Friday the 13th so I was never going to get away with that, was I? And as if to prove the point, at exactly that moment I heard her footfall on the stairs. She walked straight into the bedroom and I heard her come to a sudden halt. "Oh my God! Mum! What's going on? How long have you been like this?" I heard her walk around to the side of the bed and she suddenly stopped and gasped. "What the fuck?" she almost screamed. "Dad!" "Grrmmmphh!" I replied. I couldn't see her expression or what she was doing but I could sense that she was just standing next to me and, presumably, surveying the situation. Then, to my complete and utter astonishment she chuckled. "Oh...My...God," she enunciated clearly and slowly as I could feel myself burning up with embarrassment. She must have only stood there for a few seconds but it felt more like a minute! "This is obviously your own little set-up," she finally said as she jiggled the handcuffs. "But I think we can manage a bit better than this, don't you?" She untied my feet from the foot of the bed and somewhat roughly roll me over on to my belly. This left my arms raised above, and now slightly behind, my head. She then tied the ends of the rope that had attached my feet to the bed to my head harness, pulling my head painfully backwards resulting in a classic hog-tie. With my legs folded as far as possible at my knees, the ropes tying my knees together bit into the back of them interrupting the flow of blood and the strain on my neck was intense. I had the distinct impression that she had no idea of the pain I was in or what she was doing as I was damned sure I couldn't keep this position for more than a few minutes without sustaining some serious damage to my neck and shoulder muscles. Even so, I could feel an erection starting to develop, despite my apprehension and concern. I screamed into my gag and received three very loud and painful flat hand slaps across my buttocks, which caused me to scream again and forced more blood into my already twitching penis. It was at this point that she reached under my body, put her hand up my skirt and grabbed my balls. She stopped for a second and then she whispered quietly into my ear, "Even more kinky than I first thought. You're also into rubber and buzzy toys! In any case, this certainly won't change my mind." She squeezed my testicles ferociously, digging her nails into my sac. "So you'll shut up or I'll tear this off with my bare hands, you perverted little creep!" she continued menacingly into my ear. I whimpered and complied immediately. This was the point at which things got seriously awkward. I don't know whether it was the bondage in particular, the general situation of having a long time fantasy come to life or her grasping my genitalia, but it was extremely sensual and stimulating. In truth, I expect it was a combination of all three. My penis continued to grow in her hand and started to throb, compounding my mortification. She eased her grip slightly and then squeezed again causing further swelling. "You really are twisted, aren't you? Turned on by your own daughter? What would Mum say if she knew that?" She chuckled, and continued to tease me until my erection was complete and painfully compressed against the mattress by my own weight. "Hmmm... It seems Mum got a good deal when she married you. She may be reasonably pleased with the quantity, but that doesn't necessarily prove ability or experience when it comes to operational requirements. I'll have to think about how I can test that aspect." She moved away and I heard her open a drawer and rummage around, then another and another. Whilst she was doing this my lower legs started going numb, my neck and shoulders began to ache ferociously, my penis felt like it was going to snap in half and my face was on fire with shame. "A-Ha!" she said, and returned to remove my handcuffs. I thought of trying to grab her and forcing her to free me but trapped in the painful hog-tie in which I found myself, I knew I had no chance so dismissed the thought as quickly as it germinated. She crossed my arms behind my back, elbow to wrist, and using a belt from the drawer wrapped it around my forearms several times, securing them together. She finally released the rope from my head harness, liberating my head to fall face down on the pillow, easing the pain in my neck. I straightened out my legs in order to let the blood flow back as I felt my head harness being attached to the metalwork of the headboard with another belt. My legs were raised again from the knees and the ends of the ankle rope were this time attached to my imprisoned forearms, but not as tightly. Finally the handcuffs were used to attach the knee rope to the frame at the foot of the bed, thus preventing me from leaving the confines of the mattress. "I'll just collect the suitcase I came for," she said, "And then I'll be off." With that I heard her explore the bottom of the wardrobe and she left with a parting shot that entirely deflated me. "I've unplugged the lamp and the 'toy' so just be a dear and lie there quietly until Mum gets home from work and finds you. I presume at that point one of two things will happen. If she doesn't know about your little hobby then you will no doubt have an awful lot of explaining to do, but if she does know then she'll be amused to find you here waiting for her and the only thing you'll have to explain is how you managed to so successfully tie yourself up for her pleasure." With that, I heard her retrace her steps downstairs and then open and close the door behind her. It was at this point that I have to admit I started sobbing into the pillow. What on earth was I going to say to my wife? How was I going to explain to her that not only am I a cross-dresser but a bondage freak as well? She is so straight she would never understand I'm not a pervert, as my daughter so succinctly put it. And whom do I inform her is the third party that left me like this for her to find? I can't possibly admit to it being our daughter, but neither could I invent inviting a Dominatrix into our bedroom to satisfy my 'perversion'. Both would have equally devastating consequences, even if she did believe the first option. I panicked as it dawned on me that there was no rational explanation as to how I ended up in this predicament, each subsequent tale more ludicrous than the previous. I could just admit to cross-dressing and self-bondage but how did I put myself in this inescapable hog-tie? I could say I was overcome by a burglar, but why would a burglar bother with this? He'd just tie me up in the lounge! And what did he steal, an empty suitcase? I could make up a jilted lover from an affair, but that would guarantee the end of our marriage. As would paying for the previously mentioned Dominatrix! I just ended up going round and round in circles, getting nowhere and coming up with nothing reasonable. Even the truth sounded like a load of bollocks! Despite knowing that I was never going to escape from the bonds, I wriggled and rolled as best I could to see if anything loosened or gave me the least hope of escape but, as expected, nothing even gave an inch. I was securely fixed to the middle of the bed until my wife returned home from work to find me. At least my daughter had taken care to ensure I didn't fall off the bed during my struggles and injure myself. All during this struggling my penis remained pretty much fully erect. It was obviously the frisson of actually being a properly helpless prisoner that kept me aroused, despite the impending doom of my discovery. I resigned myself to my fate and decided to at least get what I could from the situation whilst I was 'enjoying' it. I started to hump the mattress in an effort to induce a climax, along with sideways rubbing motions, but all I managed to achieve was even more frustration and a further feeling of guilt that I should be trying to enjoy a situation that was bound to end my marriage. Eventually I just lay still, and as my penis subsided to a flaccid state I continued racking my brains for that most elusive of justifications. How and why I was in this embarrassing position? I had no idea how long I lay like that and being blindfolded I couldn't even tell if it was still daylight when I eventually heard the front door open again. I braced myself as best I could for impact! Friday the 13th Pt. 02b SPOILER ALERT! To gain maximum enjoyment from this story please read FRIDAY THE 13TH Pt. 01 & 2a first. The premise of this section will clarify why I decided to split Part 2 into a & b and I hope you like the idea. Again, I thank SlaveGirl70 and LunarSirius for their assistance with editing and tweaking. ***** It was just coming up to midday when I turned the key and opened the front door. "Hi Dad! You Home?" I called out, but there was no answer. Strange, I thought, as the car was in the driveway. Perhaps he was in the back garden. I walked down the hall and through the kitchen, opened the back door and stepped out onto the patio and called out again, "Dad?" Still no reply, and the shed door was locked up tight, so he wasn't in there either. Never mind, I'll just get the suitcase I came for and leave. He probably wouldn't even notice I've been here. I returned to the kitchen, closed the back door and headed upstairs to the main bedroom where Mum had said the suitcase was stored in the bottom of the wardrobe. As I entered the bedroom, I spotted Mum tied to the bed and immediately stopped dead in my tracks. "Oh my God!" I sputtered in astonishment. "Mum! What's going on? How long have you been like this?" I moved around the bed to get a closer look and as my gaze ran up her body from the base of the bed I could see that she was wearing a pair of black stiletto court shoes, sheer black stockings which ran up just short of the hem of a black, short sleeved mini dress showing a little thigh above the lacy stocking tops. Her legs were joined by ropes just above and below the knees; her ankles were also tied together and secured to the framework of the bed. Further up, I saw that she had been fitted with a leather posture collar, keeping her head pushed back, a full head harness with an attached red ball gag and a faux satin blindfold. Above that was a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs attaching her wrists to the frame at the head of the bed. What didn't quite add up was a lump at her crotch, her somewhat misshapen breasts, short hair and...hairy arms? Then I froze a second time. It wasn't Mum. "What the fuck? Dad?" "Grrmmmphh!" He replied. I surveyed the scene again, but more closely this time, taking in the whole set-up. My experience as an escort­-come-dominatrix immediately told me that this was self bondage, what with the timer, lamp, string and key. You see, for the last 2½ years I had been living in a ground floor flat near the university. I started out paying my way through school by renting myself out as a high-class escort. Apparently, I was just what men desired, according to the agency with whom I had signed. As a 5'10", slim, raven-haired beauty, both well-spoken and educated, I was able to dress elegantly to impress my dates and their friends, not only with looks but also conversation. I was in constant demand as intelligent eye candy for highly placed directors, proprietors and managers, but I stuck rigidly to the no sex rule insisted upon by the agency. An occasional snog and grope was as far as it went, but even that was only if I fancied my client. After a year or so, I realised that many of my clientèle were partial to being submissive, precisely because of the power they wielded in their everyday lives. So I invested some of my earnings in some basic BDSM equipment. I continued with the no sex rule, but bent it slightly by interpreting it as no physical sex between client and escort. Eventually, I quit the agency and rented the basement under my flat, fitting it out as a dominatrix lair and dungeon. Since then, between studies, I've made a small fortune, which has easily surpassed that required for university fees and living expenses. I have become quite used to the more lavish lifestyle, but of course have hidden this side of my life from my family and old friends. Once I had fully absorbed the situation in front of me, I have to admit that a small chuckle escaped my lips. "Oh...My...God," I deliberately sounded each word and then continued in my best Dominatrix voice, "This is obviously your own little set-up. But I think we can manage a bit better than this, don't you?" I stated as I formulated a little plan in my mind. If my Dad was into bondage, then I might as well give him the benefit of my experience. I quickly untied his feet from the framework at the foot of the bed and rolled him over. I pulled his head backwards and, as a temporary measure, tied off his ankles to the harness, which must have been quite a strain on the poor little darling's neck. He screamed into his gag, so I decided to teach him from the off that a slave only makes a noise when given permission by his or her Mistress. I gave him three hard slaps across his buttocks, which only managed to elicit three more screams. For Christ's sake, what sort of a wimp have I got as a stepfather? Am I expected to accept that a flat hand slap through the material of a dress actually hurts? Well, if he thinks that hurts, wait till I crush his balls! I slipped my hand under his body and up his dress and stopped for a second. Was that the unmistakable feel of rubber under his knickers? And an electric cock ring? I put my mouth right next to his ear and whispered menacingly, "Even more kinky than I first thought. You're also into rubber and buzzy toys! In any case, this new discovery certainly won't change my mind. So you'll shut up or I'll tear this off with my bare hands, you perverted little creep!" I squeezed his balls hard and dug my nails into the side of his sac. Strange how that managed to shut him up, don't you think? But I also got the other reaction I was expecting. His penis began to harden in my hands. You can always rely on a man's dick to take control, even when you think the situation is so embarrassing that he would be expected to curl up and die. He was obviously more turned on by the BDSM treatment he was receiving than turned off by the fact that it was being administered by his stepdaughter, whom he had raised as his own from the age of 11. I have to admit a pang of conscience on my own part at this point. How might this affect our kinship? But I rationalised that as long as I kept to a strictly Mistress/Client relationship then everything should be OK. After all, it had worked before! I chuckled again and began rhythmically compressing his penis through the rubber sheath saying, "You really are twisted, aren't you? Turned on by your own daughter? What would Mum say if she knew that?" He very soon reached a full erection and I have to admit that he certainly had nothing to be ashamed of. "Hmmm!" I continued, "It seems Mum got a good deal when she married you. She may be reasonably pleased with the quantity, but that doesn't necessarily prove ability or experience when it comes to operational requirements. I'll have to think about how I can test that aspect." Now to continue with my little plan, I went to the chest of drawers and started searching for a belt or two. "A-Ha!" Third drawer lucky! I returned and took the key from the lamp and unlocked the handcuffs. I crossed his arms behind his back and strapped the forearms together with one of the belts. I then undid the rope from his head harness and retied his ankles to his forearms, retaining the hog-tie, but looser. To ensure he didn't wriggle off the bed and hurt himself I secured his head harness to the framework at the top of the bed with the second belt, and I used the handcuffs to tie his knee ropes to the bottom of the bed. "I'll just collect the suitcase I came for," I said, "and then I'll be off." I took Mum's small suitcase, which I needed for a three-day city break to Paris on Wednesday, from the bottom of her wardrobe. As I turned to leave I called back to Dad from the bedroom doorway. "I've unplugged the lamp and the 'toy' so just be a dear and lie there quietly until Mum gets home from work and finds you. I presume at that point one of two things will happen: If she doesn't know about your little hobby, then you will no doubt have an awful lot of explaining to do. But if she does know, then she'll be amused to find you here waiting for her and the only thing you'll have to explain is how you managed to so successfully tie yourself up for her pleasure." With that I left him to sweat and worry whilst I headed home to put part two of my hastily dreamt up plan into action. Friday the 13th Pt. 03a Part 3a continues from where Part 2a left off. Once again my thanks go to SlaveGirl70 and LunarSirius. ***** After she left, I lay as positioned for some time but my ski sock 'breasts' were pressing into my chest and becoming somewhat uncomfortable. With some difficulty, my knees attached as they were by the handcuffs to the foot of the bed, I managed to wriggle and turn over so I was lying on my back. However within a few seconds this turned out to be even more painful, as my stiletto heels dug sharply into my buttocks. I rolled onto my right side, which pushed my right elbow further behind my back and placed some tension on my upper arm. I soon discovered that this, too, was not particularly comfortable but it was the least uncomfortable of any position I could find, so I settled down as best I could to contemplate the awful situation in which I found myself. I had no idea how long I lay like that, and being blindfolded I couldn't even tell if it was still daylight when I heard the front door eventually open again. I braced myself for impact! But something wasn't right. After an extended period of silence, footsteps I didn't recognise made their way up the stairs. They certainly weren't my wife's soft and delicate tread and neither did they sound like the gait of my step-daughter I remembered from earlier. It was a harsh, almost stomping stride that I heard ascending the stairs. So what now? A burglar to cap off what was fast becoming the worst day of my life? Friday the 13th should be banned and removed from all calendars forever more. Whoever it was marched straight into the bedroom and stopped near the door in silence, no doubt also surprised to see the figure trussed up on the bed. Who could this possibly be? "So! You've managed to wriggle onto your side." The voice was like a snarling, harsher version of my step-daughter's. "Was my positioning of your pitiful being not good enough for you?" Indeed it was her again, hopefully to release me before my wife got home from work and save me from embarrassment. The answer to that turned out to be yes and no! She continued, "It's time you were formally introduced to your Mistress. From this day forth you will be known as 'Male Slave', most often abbreviated to 'Emmy' for my convenience. When you are permitted to speak you will call me 'Mistress' at all times. Upon receiving instructions, you will ALWAYS answer by saying 'Yes, Mistress.' Do you understand?" She paused for a minute. "I don't hear you!" "Efff Mffshrrfff." I mumbled into my gag. There followed a number of bright flashes and the sound of a camera motor as she took photographs of me in this embarrassing situation. She then rolled me on to my front, released my knees from the foot of the bed and removed the rope that attached my ankles to my forearms. She then removed the rope at my knees and next to go was the belt wrapped around my forearms. The gag had caused me to dribble and the whole right side of my face was covered in saliva. I was turned onto my back and I felt her adjust my stocking tops and dress, front and back, to position them as she saw fit. She attached some kind of strap to my left wrist, and then my right, after which my extended arms were secured to the metalwork of the headboard. During all this I could feel my penis stiffening and filling its rubber sheath and even before she removed my blindfold I could feel my face flushing with embarrassment. It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the light and then I froze completely. If my mouth hadn't already been stretched to its fullest by the gag it would have gaped this wide of its own accord! There she stood, clearly visible in all her menacing glory, my new Mistress. I could see that it was most definitely my step-daughter and, as I stretched to glance over the side of the bed, I could see she was standing majestically on 8" stiletto heels, giving her a towering height of 6'6"! The extra inches were supplied by a 2½" platform sole that was the foundation of a pair of stunning, black patent, thigh-high boots. The boots were securely laced over the legs of a shiny, black, one-piece latex cat-suit that fitted her like a second skin, downwards from the neck, under which I detected no sign of either bra or briefs. Her midriff was compressed by a fiercely tight corset reaching from the hips, making them seem to splay improbably wide from her cinched waist, to just below her breasts which were forced up and together and had no choice but to protrude delectably outwards in all their grandeur, to the extent that her nipples were plainly visible, distorting the front of the costume. Her hands were encased in rubber, from the fingertips all the way up the arms in what seemed to be an integral part of the suit, and the neck was sealed with an inch wide leather collar. Finally, her make-up was exaggerated and possibly a bit tarty, and her long raven hair was pulled severely back from her face and gathered in a pony tail protruding from the top and centre of her head, the first 2" wrapped in some kind of material to form a trunk. The remaining loose hair then flowed gracefully down her back. My penis grew with every second that I surveyed the ravishing beauty before me. She knew this, of course, and proceeded to strut around the foot of the bed taking more photographs. This time, without the blindfold, I would be completely recognisable, dribble and all! Straight-backed, head held high with an air of self-assured arrogance, she paced nonchalantly but with purpose, almost stalking me, until she reached the opposite side of the bed. Her glance moved towards my groin. "Dear me," she patronized, "Getting hot for your Mistress as well as your daughter? She told me all about you." For a split second I almost believed they were separate entities. Her hand slipped up under the hem of the dress and she started squeezing and releasing my rubber-clad penis just as before. No matter how hard I tried, or what dull pictures I tried to envisage in my head, I had no way of preventing the inevitable. She continued speaking whilst handling me, "I am capable of divorcing home life from fantasy and I expect you to do the same. Whenever you see your Mistress you will be her slave, and whenever you see your daughter you will be her father. You will do this because YOU do not want your wife to have even an inkling that her husband has got something going on with her daughter. If that were discovered it would require you to explain an awful lot more than you would want, or of which you are even capable. Now, as you are standing to attention as required, what do you say we finish you off for the day?" She removed the rope from around my ankles with a muttered 'nicely done' and as she did so I glanced up to see that my left wrist had been fitted with a leather cuff and attached to the framework of the bed by tying the rope to the inbuilt D-Ring of the left cuff and wrapping it around one of the wrought iron decorations. From there the rope travelled across to the other side of the headboard where the same process was repeated on the right cuff. I looked back toward my legs and saw the bulge under the LBD that confirmed my arousal. Meanwhile, each ankle was being fitted with identical leather cuffs as used on my wrists and attached in a similar manner to either side of the footboard. I was now spread-eagled and once more at the mercy of my new Mistress who surveyed her handiwork with the smug satisfaction of an expert. "As you have been such a good little slave and not fought back, or been abusive or difficult, I think you deserve to come off, don't you?" Her patronising tone made me feel about three years old and six inches tall. My cheeks burned afresh with humiliation as she reached up under my dress and once again caressed my phallus ensuring it remained at full stature, all the while whispering encouragement I couldn't quite hear, as if speaking directly to it. She stopped some considerable time before I was even close to ejaculation and stated boldly, "There. That should do it." She pulled my dress back down and smoothed it over the pronounced bulge of my cock, which obviously generated a conspicuous hillock in the dress. Again she picked up the camera and snapped some more shots of my distressing predicament. "The wonderful thing about this camera is that it also takes video," she suddenly announced. Striding back to right side of the bed she bent out of sight for a few seconds and then the cock ring vibrator started up. She was going to video me being pleasured by a machine whilst helplessly shackled to a bed. My self-esteem was now at its nadir as I desperately tried not to be aroused, to no avail. The tingling sensation of the relentless quivering of the cock ring gradually began to have what seemed like a numbing effect on my penis. My member, which had been beginning to slump since my Mistress had ceased her ministrations, quickly became fully engorged once again and was soon pulsing to its own rhythmic beat. At this point Mistress stretched out an arm, while still filming, and gathered the hem of my dress into a bunch just above my groin and then released, spring-like, my penis from the confines of the lacy knickers I had only worn for show. She went to my wife's dressing table where she set down the camera and sat on the stool. My cock started slowly pirouetting to its own music as the stimulation of the vibrator began to do its work. After a few minutes I could feel my balls beginning to tighten as they prepared to release their cargo and I began to unconsciously moan under my breath. Now I was developing feelings of guilt as my arousal matured. How is it that I could possibly have got myself into such a compromising, yet stimulating, fantasy consummation with my own daughter as the catalyst? As I approached the apex of this ordeal I gyrated my hips in an effort to expedite the fruition of what was now a torment of unrequited sensuality. My breath shortened and became shallow, my face flushed as red as it could and my cock twitched like a demented conductors baton. Finally my legs stiffened, my back arched as my hips rose. I let out a gag-stifled, almost gurgling, howl and semen gushed forth from my penis into the rubber sheath that enveloped it. "Oh, Bravo!" came a cry from the foot of the bed. "Now that's what I call a money shot." Did she sound a little breathless herself? I had almost forgotten she was still there, but there was nothing I could do to control myself. The device was still buzzing, my brain was still fuzzy, my cock was still jerking, and I was still groaning into the gag. After about another minute, notwithstanding the constant stimulation from the cock ring, my phallus began to slump despite itself. It was now that Mistress turned off the camera and vibrator and sat next to me on the bed. "I bet that was as good for you as it was for me," she joked. "Now to business. I will release you before I go, obviously, and you can clean up and pack up as and how you wish. Tomorrow, Saturday, you will report to me at the flat at 11am wearing this same attire. How you get to me is not my problem, but when I open my front door I expect to see you dressed exactly like this. As you know, I have photographs and video, which I am sure you would prefer did not see the light of day. So, I'll see you tomorrow morning, and for your own sake, don't be late." And with that she released one wrist cuff and left the room. I lay there for a few minutes commiserating with myself and then set to work freeing my remaining limbs from their confinement. I didn't have time for a wash and dry cycle on the clothing, so I folded it all up as neatly as possible and replaced it, hoping that my wife would not wish to wear any of this particular ensemble tomorrow. I replaced the other paraphernalia in the shed, along with the wrist and ankle cuffs she had left attached to me. I made the bed, had a quick shower and then set about the untouched chores, all the while trying to think of a reason for going out tomorrow. About thirty-five minutes later the front door opened again. "Hi darling, I'm home," called my wife. "Oh! You're late with the housework today. Anything wrong?" "No, sweetheart." I replied, "I just spent way too long relaxing and watching the telly. How was your day?" "Same as usual. By the way, I'm out with the girls tomorrow for some shopping and a spot of lunch so you'll have the place to yourself again. I hope you don't mind the short notice but we only discussed it today." "Not at all. You go ahead and enjoy yourself, but don't spend too much." What a relief! She always leaves well before ten on her 'girlie' days. Another bullet dodged. "Do I ever?" she chastised, and she was right. For someone who goes shopping with her as often as she does she spends remarkably little. I guess she's just too picky with her style. Friday the 13th Pt. 03b SPOILER ALERT! To gain maximum enjoyment from this story please read all the previous parts of FRIDAY THE 13TH first. Again, I thank SlaveGirl70 and LunarSirius for their assistance with editing and tweaking. Without their assistance, encouragement and confidence in my ability I doubt if this story would have seen the light of day. ***** As soon as I got home I went straight to the basement to collect the costume and toys I was going to use this afternoon. I intended to give Dad the full works today. The ultimate dominatrix! Once I had collected what I needed, I went upstairs to my ground floor flat, made a quick call to 'Female Slave,' or 'Effy' as I call her, about new arrangements for tomorrow and then got changed. First I stripped naked, stood in the shower and powdered myself all over with talc. Then I sat on the stool in the bathroom and put my right foot into the right leg of the black rubber cat suit I had taken from the basement wardrobe. I pushed my toes right to the end and smoothed it over the rest of my foot before stretching it over my heel. I slowly stroked the rubber over my calf, all the way to just below my knee. The same process was repeated for my left leg and calf and then I pulled the rubber of each leg over its respective knee. I so love the feel of cold rubber against my skin that I consider the donning of it the best part of the whole operation. I got to my feet and, again slowly, drew both legs of the costume over my thighs until my vagina nestled as firmly as possible into the crotch of the suit, given that there was a loose lobe of rubber designed into the suit at that specific site. It was at this point I started to get that tingling sensation and I knew yet again I'd be aroused by the time I had finished getting dressed. I continued by stretching the rubber across my midriff and then pulling it over my upper chest and feeding my breasts into the small, almost too tight, pockets where they belonged. After a little adjustment, I had both breasts in place and my nipples, stimulated as they were, distended the rubber in symmetry on either side of the suit. I reached behind me and closed the zip as far as it would go for the moment and then set about the not so easy task of getting my arms, and more importantly fingers, all the way down into the attached gloves which were part of the one piece costume. With much maneuvering, coaxing and cajoling, I finally achieved my aim, closed the zip the rest of the way and rested, feeling hot in more ways than one. After a minute or so, I picked up the 'Shine-Gel', squirted a small amount into one gloved hand and began slowly and deliberately caressing my entire body in order to bring my costume to a mirror-like sheen. I started with my feet and slowly slid my hands up and over each calf and thigh in turn, replenishing the 'Shine-Gel' each time my gloved hands began to grip the suit. When I reached my vagina I arranged the loose flap of rubber around my lips and into the crevice such that it molded itself to all the contours. My finger pressed into the cleft forcing the remaining loose rubber inside my vagina, trusting that the latex now formed a perfect second skin giving the effect of sleek, black genitalia. I rubbed my finger lengthways across my vulva until the creeping stimulation warned me to stop before it was too late. I took a deep breath, followed by another handful of 'Shine-Gel', and then re-applied myself to administering the sheen to my costume. My arms and hands were next, followed by as much of my back as I could reach and then my torso. My breasts were last and I lingered on them, fondling and caressing each in turn until my nipples stood out again, trying to punch holes through the rubber. My groin was tingling again and my breathing came in short gasps but, with all the control I could muster, I stopped and moved on to stage two of clothing myself. I affixed an inch-wide leather collar snugly around my throat, hiding the edge of the cat suit at my neck and then padded to the bedroom on my rubber-clad feet to sit down on the bed. I picked up the right of a pair of patent leather thigh high boots, with a 2½" platform and 8" heel, squirmed my right foot down into the toe and then pulled on the body of the boot to settle my heel into place. The slipperiness of the gel was sufficient to make the tight fitting boot reasonably easy to don and I repeated the process on the left. I smoothed the body of each boot up my lower legs, zipped them up to the knee and then stood to an imposing 6'6" in height. The inch of elasticated material on either side of each zipper ensured an extremely smooth, snug fit all the way up each boot to the tops, which reached mid-way up each thigh and finished off with a 3" turn down, pirate style. Once I had finished with these it was time for stage three: hair and make-up. I daubed liquid foundation across my face and rubbed it into all the exposed skin of my face, neck and head. Then I glued a pair of long, black, sleek false eyelashes to my eyelids and accentuated my eyes with heavily applied eyeliner. I highlighted my eyebrows with thick, black pencil and then brought out my high cheekbones with a robust application of rouge. Next I emphasised my lips by administering bright scarlet lipstick, which I intensified with a high shine lip-gloss. Finally I pulled my long raven locks severely back from my face into a ponytail that rose from the top centre of my head. A silver-edged black ribbon was use to constrict the first two inches into a compact trunk emerging from my head and then the loose remainder was teased until it cascaded down my back. I collected my bag, covered my entire ensemble with an ankle length, 'matrix' style, black leather coat, made my way back out to the car and drove back to my parents' house. It wasn't the easiest of drives in eight-inch heels and platform soles. I had never driven in these boots before; in fact they had never been beyond my flat, basement and stairwell! After a difficult and slow drive I let myself back into the house I had left less than 90 minutes previously and deposited my bag on the floor of the hallway. I now had the final phase to contend with, always difficult, but equally satisfying when complete. I removed from my bag the corset, which was black leather, had a boned style and a pinched waist. I had deliberately purchased it three inches too small, primarily to give a more severe look to my dominatrix persona, but also as an incentive not to put on weight. I had to don it here, as it would have been nigh on impossible to drive with such a tight compression of my torso. Bending at the waist in order to sit in the driving seat of a car would have been futile, but even had I succeeded it would have caused me considerable pain, digging into the tops of my thighs as I operated the pedals. I placed it around my waist, connected all the hooks and eyes that ran down the back and, after a slight adjustment, pulled on the laces positioned at the front to begin the constriction of my midriff. Firstly I pulled the lace ends at the base to squeeze my abdomen as far as possible. I followed this by tightening the lace ends at the top to compress and uplift my 'C' cup breasts, forcing them together at the centre to point provocatively outwards over the top of the bodice. Finally, I returned to the bottom laces and restricted my waist the final inch. This was, as always, uncomfortable to start with but I knew that after ten minutes or so my body would adjust and the discomfort disappear. In the past I had at this point teased the laces of my corset up and down from the centre in order to restrict my abdomen by a further inch or so, but not today. I picked up my bag and stomped somewhat ponderously up the stairs as I always do in these skyscraper heels and entered the bedroom, stopping at the door. "So! You've managed to wriggle onto your side." I snarled. "Was my positioning of your pitiful being not good enough for you?" I strode purposefully into the room and put my bag down on the ottoman at the foot of the bed and reached inside to retrieve my camera. I continued, "It's time you were formally introduced to your Mistress. From this day forth you will be known as 'Male Slave', most often abbreviated to 'Emmy' for my convenience. When you are permitted to speak you will call me 'Mistress' at all times. Upon receiving instructions, you will ALWAYS answer by saying 'Yes, Mistress.' Do you understand? I don't hear you!" He mumbled "Efff Mffshrrfff." into his gag, which I took to be the required response. I then strutted imperiously around the bed taking photographs of my stepfathers' helpless form before rolling him back onto his front. I released his knees from the foot of the bed, removed the rope that attached his ankles to his forearms and freed his knees from their confinement. The belt joining his forearms together was next to go and I then spun him roughly over onto his back, noting his dribble covered face caused by the gag preventing him from properly swallowing. Once he was on his back I tidied his stocking tops and dress so that everything was in line and displaying a two inch strip of bare thigh between them. Next I attached a pair of leather cuffs to his wrists and fixed them to the bed frame using the rope from his knees before finally removing the blindfold. As I did so I noticed the embarrassment showing on his face and glanced down towards his groin only to see a very conspicuous bulge forming under the dress. I straightened myself to my full height and looked back at his flushed face in time to see him staring, somewhat lewdly I would say, at my rubber clad form. It seemed my efforts were having the desired effect. I held myself as upright as possible and once again strode around the bed, taking more photographs as I went, noticing all the while that the groin of his dress was ballooning ever upwards. "Tut, tut." I stated slowly and clearly. "Are we getting the hots for our Mistress as well as our daughter? She told me all about you." I slipped my hand under the hem of the dress and started pumping his rubber clad penis as I had earlier that day, and continued with my discourse. "I am capable of divorcing home life from fantasy and I expect you to do the same. Whenever you see your Mistress you will be her slave, and whenever you see your daughter you will be her father. You will do this because YOU do not want your wife to have even an inkling that her husband has got something going on with her daughter. If that were discovered it would require you to explain an awful lot more than you want, or of which you are even capable. Now, as you are now standing to attention as required, what do you say we finish you off for the day?" By now he was well on the way to another full erection. I untied the rope from his ankles, observing that he had done quite a good job, and murmured to myself, "Nicely done." I immediately attached another set of cuffs to each ankle and secured them, spread-eagled, to the framework at the foot of the bed in a similar fashion as I had his wrists to the headboard. Using my most condescending tone I said, "As you have been such a good little slave and not fought back, or been abusive or difficult, I think you deserve to come off, don't you?" I leaned across the bed and placed my face right next to the prominence of his groin and once more began stroking his penis. I continued until it was again fully engorged, all the while whispering encouragement to his manhood. When I judged that it was incapable of any further growth I stopped, stood up and confirmed, "There. That should do it." I straightened his dress afresh, reacquired the camera and snapped some more shots of his plight. "The wonderful thing about this camera," I declared, "is that it also takes video." I circumnavigated the foot of the bed to the right side and bent down to the plug where the lamp and vibrator had been plugged in. I reconnected the cock ring and heard it immediately hum to life. Now this would be fun! I slowly stalked back to the foot of the bed and began filming. I soon realised that with all the action occurring above the hemline of the dress, and hence concealed from view, it would make for a pretty boring show, so I leaned forward and raised the hem above the top of his knickers. I then pulled down the black lacy knickers, launching his distended penis into the air like the arm of a medieval siege engine! I stepped back and set the camera down on the dresser so that it would catch all the excitement of his, soon to be 'sticky,' situation. Whilst he was being slowly tortured to ejaculation, I retrieved a small finger-sized vibrator from my bag and sat on Mum's make-up stool, which I positioned between the dresser and the wardrobe, out of sight of the camera. I turned on the vibrator, its noise quiet enough to be muffled by that of the cock ring, and began playing it across my rubber adorned pudenda whilst pinching, in turn, my left then right nipples. Why should he have all the fun? With a bit of luck he will turn out to be a stayer and I will have enough time to bring myself off before I need to see to him. Otherwise, this could turn out to be a quite frustrating and short-lived experience. Watching the almost mesmerising acrobatics of Dad's penis actually helped with my arousal and I quickly felt my juices begin to slowly lubricate the rubber pouch inserted in my vagina. This assisted with the in and out motion of the top couple of inches of my finger vibrator. Unfortunately the embedded sleeve of rubber was not big enough to allow me to reach my G-Spot, or any meaningful part of my interior, so I had to keep removing it in order to brush and stimulate my clitoris before returning it to its fullest extent inside me. Nothing like real sex, but a reasonable enough approximation to do the job intended. As my arousal increased, my clitoris became increasingly engorged and sensitive. I had to be careful not to make any noise as I didn't want my rapture caught on tape along with Dad's, so I bit my lip quite hard to stifle my cries as I approached the zenith of my titillation. By varying the pressure of the vibrator on my clitoris I held my orgasm on the cusp until I saw Dad stiffen, arch his back and heard a series of loud grunts and snorts through his gag at which point I pressed hard on my clitoris and held the buzzing machine in place. I then placed my knuckle and base of my right forefinger into my mouth, and clamped hard on it, until I also released a muffled exhalation. I could feel my groin and the tops of my thighs becoming warm and wet as my juice flowed out into the cat suit. This would be a sticky and somewhat uncomfortable drive home, but that's part of the fun, isn't it? "Oh, Bravo!" I called out a little breathlessly across the room. "Now that's what I call a money shot." I sat quietly for a minute or so and watched Dad fighting the continuing provocation of his cock ring whilst I caught my breath, and then turned off the camera. I crossed the room, turned off the vibrator and sat on the bed next to Dad. "I bet that was as good for you as it was for me," I quipped. "Now to business. I will release you before I go, obviously, and you can clean and pack up how you wish. Tomorrow, Saturday, you will report to me at the flat at 11am wearing this same attire. How you get to me is not my problem, but when I open my front door I expect to see you dressed exactly like this. As you know, I have photographs and video, which I am sure you would prefer do not see the light of day. But in all honestly I rather think the threat is unnecessary as I am certain this is a fantasy you are more than happy to pursue voluntarily. So, I'll see you tomorrow morning, and for your own sake, don't be late." With that I released one wrist cuff and left the room. Once downstairs I removed my corset and felt all my insides settle back to their respective customary locations. I donned my long leather coat, returned to the car in the drive and left for my flat. It had been an unexpected, but pleasant, day and I was pleased that I had managed to acquire a male slave to enjoy and use alongside my more established female slave. I was quite looking forward to tomorrow, when 'Effy' and 'Emmy' would meet for the first time. Hmmm! What to do with them...