Sissy Julian Chapter X Nights in Pink Satin
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It finally had happened. Paul couldn't resist the urge anymore. The urge to wear women's clothing. The urge to be degraded and humiliated.
The first thing he had done was to have a shower and remove all his body hair. Gazing at his naked self in the mirror, he was pleased with the results. Forcing down a shudder of anticipation and excitement, he reached for the first garment. The feel of the silvery satin panties held in his hands was electric. Unable to help himself, his penis swelled and erected. With a short exhalation of breath and a flutter in his stomach, he slid the panties up his legs and over his throbbing penis.
He paused momentarily to tuck his cock away, so as to make it less noticeable. Next he grasped the matching satin bra and fastened it on. Before gazing once more at the mirror, he stuffed a pair of fake breast cups into the bra. He loved what he saw.
God, the feeling of satin against his skin was amazing, but still there was more to come. His eyes fell to the pair of black nylon stockings lying on the bed. Barely able to contain himself, he grabbed them and sensually rolled them up his legs. Oh how he had missed the feel of nylon stockings! That slight rasping swishing noise as they rubbed together when he moved.
Forcing himself not to look in the mirror again, he quickly donned a long straight black wig and then spent the next ten minutes applying make-up to his face. The effect was amazing. Gone were the masculine features, only to be replaced with a more pleasing feminine aspect. He couldn't have been any more pleased with his work.
Returning to the bedroom, he quickly moved towards the closet and pulled out a recently bought pink satin blouse. Without a moments hesitation he slipped it on, and with slightly shaking hands, fastened the buttons. Gazing once more into the closet, his face frowned with the decision of what to wear next. With one hand he pulled out a silver pleated skirt and with the other, a shiny black PVC skirt. He stood there trying to decide which one to wear. His eyes momentarily flicked towards a bright red pleated netball skirt. Should he wear that? He did have an intense fetish for netball skirts, but he decided against it. It wouldn't go that well with the satin blouse.
Another moment of hesitation followed, before he finally decided on the PVC skirt. It would match the black PVC knee high boots he had been dying to wear. Unzipping the skirt, he stepped into it and slid it up his legs, before refastening the zip. How to describe the feeling he felt. It was unbelievable. Every movement caused the skirt to make a rustling plastic sound. He ran his hand down the skirt and delighted in its smooth plastic feel. Lastly, and with much excitement, he slipped into the knee high PVC boots. His look was complete.
Having finished dressing, he allowed his mind to dwell on the reason he had gone to the trouble of dressing up as a girl. He wanted to be used, to be humiliated and treated in a worthless manner. And so he had arranged a meeting with a stranger to act out his fantasy. He couldn't deny feeling nervous. He had never done anything like this before. And deep down he knew, once he walked down this path he could never come back.
A shiver ran down his spine. Perhaps it was the cold, perhaps his nerves. Nevertheless, he crossed once more to the closet and pulled out a shiny pink nylon down jacket and put it on. He had always loved nylon down jackets. The amazing feel of the nylon and that seductive rustle of the material as you moved. He went into the living room and sat down on the sofa, enjoying the feel of his outfit, and waited for the knock on the door.
He didn't have long to wait; barely an hour had passed before there was a knock on the door. His heart pumping and with his legs feeling like jelly, he answered the door. Before him stood a man in his late forties, tall and incredibly well built.
'Hi,' he said.
'Hi,' Paul replied, involuntary swallowing. 'Please come in.' The man stepped inside and gave a very satisfied smile. It appeared he liked what he saw. They sat down on the sofa together and exchanged pleasant small talk before the man made a comment on Paul's outfit.
'I love what you are wearing. PVC always turns me on.'
'Thank you,' I replied, glancing quickly down at his crotch; indeed there was a noticeable bulge in his pants. His eyes followed Paul's and another smile crossed his face.
'What do you suggest we do about that?' he asked. His voice held no trace of embarrassment or awkwardness. It conveyed confidence and desire. Paul's on the other hand, was filled with nervousness and a touch of fear.
'I was hoping we could play a game.' The words came out breathless and shaking. He raised his eyebrows and looked deeply at Paul.
'A game you say. What kind of game?'
In a voice barely a whisper, Paul answered, 'How would you feel about tying me up and giving me 30 minutes to escape. If I escape, you have to go home. If I can't escape then I'll give you a blow-job.' Paul swallowed nervously again upon saying the word blow-job. God, he had never given a blow-job to another person in his life.
The man smiled again. Paul couldn't help but notice the man's erection had become rock hard. 'Sounds fun,' he finally said after a short pause.
'But, I didn't come all this way just for a blow-job. And if I'm going to take the time to play your game and tie you up, I want a little more than that.'
Paul's stomach contracted; his heart raced. Paul knew what he was referring to. Dumbly, he nodded his head. Upon seeing this, he once again smiled and licked his lips.
'Shall we begin, then?' A small trace of excitement had etched itself into his voice.
Paul could only nod once more. He then stood up and crossed the room, where he picked up a bag full of rope, before returning and handing it to the man. Not bothering to look inside, he tossed the bag onto the sofa and began to unbutton his shirt.
'What are you doing?' Paul stupidly asked.
'Just getting comfortable,' the man replied. Before Paul knew it, the man was standing naked in front of him. His erection was fully revealed; it was a massive cock, fully erect and dripping with pre-cum. 'Now,' said the man in a more serious voice, 'If you feel things are starting to get out of hand, and you want to stop, just say the word, cupcake.' Paul nodded, somewhat relieved they would be using a safe word.
'Turn around and put your hands behind your back,' whispered the man. Paul complied. He immediately felt the man behind him, felt his erection press up against his skirt, and felt his hands caress the material of his jacket and skirt. The material made that beautiful rustling noise, which sent a shiver of excitement down Paul's spine. The next sensation he felt was rope being pulled tightly around his wrists. Pulled around very tightly.
Paul gave an involuntary gasp of pleasure. He had dreamed of being tied up all his life and now, it was suddenly happening. 'Oh you like that do you?' asked the man. 'Well, you'll like this next one, then.' Before Paul could reply, he felt rope go around his elbows and felt them suddenly pulled together. Paul let out another gasp, but this one was a gasp of pain. Such beautiful pain.
Pain, Paul had never experienced before. Pausing only to rub his cock once again on Paul's skirt, this time leaving a small trace of pre-cum glistening on the shiny plastic material, the man sat Paul on the sofa and proceeded to bind Paul's ankles and knees. 'Very nice,' the man murmured. 'I'm enjoying tying you up. But that won't do,' he said, pointing to the small tent that had arisen in the front of Paul's skirt.
With that he stood Paul up, lifted his skirt up and pulled out his cock. Paul could only gasp. His heart was beating too fast for him to say anything. There he was, dressed in women's clothing, tied up in front of a naked man. His dream had come true. Without a second thought, the man began to jerk Paul off. Hard, strong jerks that left Paul gasping and moaning in pleasure. In only a few short moments, Paul suddenly felt himself begin to climax.
'Oh God,' he thought, 'how could being jerked off by another man feel so wonderful?' Sensing Paul was about to cum, the man grabbed a piece of paper from the coffee table and held it under Paul's cock. With an almighty moan, Paul felt himself ejaculate onto the piece of paper.
'Good girl!' exclaimed the man. 'We can't have that horrible thing sticking out under your skirt, can we.' And then in a move that took Paul by surprise, the man quickly thrust the cum soaked piece of paper into his mouth. The cum tasted hot, salty and slimy. Paul tried to spit it out. But he was not fast enough. The man had produced a roll of duct tape and proceeded to gag Paul with it.
'Much better,' the man replied, as he smoothed down Paul's skirt before pushing him violently onto the bed. Things were starting to get a little rough. Paul attempted to role onto his back but the man prevented him from doing so, and held him down, lying on his stomach.
'Oh we're not finished yet, my pretty,' he excitedly said. He grabbed another piece of rope and tied it around Paul's wrists; then roughly pulling Paul's legs towards his hands, proceeded to tie the rope around his ankles. Paul suddenly found himself painfully hog-tied and gagged with a piece of cum filled paper in his mouth.
'Oh very nice,' muttered the man as he sat down in a chair opposite Paul. 'Now I want you to struggle as hard as you can. If you free yourself, then I'll go home. And if you don't, I'm going to fuck your arse and your mouth and make you taste my cum.' With that, he began to slowly masturbate himself.
Paul felt a momentary flash of fear. The ropes were too tight and too well done. He knew he couldn't escape, and he began to panic. What if he didn't want to be fucked and used? Luckily there was the safe word. He began to struggle, desperately trying to undo the ropes. But it was impossible. All he managed to produce was a loud rustling and swishing noise from his plastic jacket, his nylon stockings and the PVC skirt.
The noise only seemed to excite the man, whose cock bulged and hardened as he stroked it. For what seemed an hour Paul struggled as the piece of paper in his mouth dissolved into a wet mass of cum and saliva. Exhausted, Paul finally stopped struggling.
'That's too bad,' grinned the man, rising up. 'Looks like I win your little game.' He came and stood over Paul and quickly undid the piece of rope binding Paul's wrists and ankles together. With a muffled sigh of relief, Paul stretched out his legs behind him.
'Mmm,' said the man. 'I love that skirt your wearing. Let me just touch it.' And so he did, by lowering himself over Paul and rubbing his cock over the PVC skirt. Leaving a noticeable trail of pre-cum, the man moaned and groaned before finally sitting up and removing Paul's gag. Immediately, Paul spat out the remains of the piece of paper and coughed loudly as he did so.
'Oh, I'll give you something to cough about,' breathed the man, as he pulled Paul up and forced him onto his knees. And it was then that Paul tasted his first cock. The feeling was surreal. As Paul began to suck on the cock, he truly felt like a woman. Above him, the man moaned and groaned, enjoying the pleasure of having his cock sucked. But soon he had had enough of that.
Leaning down, he whispered in Paul's ear, 'You know what's coming next don't you.'
Paul nodded his head. The man then suddenly slapped Paul roughly across the face.
'Then beg me for it, you sissy.'
The shock of the slap took Paul by surprise. Before he could reply, the man slapped him again, harder. Reeling from the pain, Paul attempted to stammer out some words but nothing came out. Grinning cruelly the man shoved Paul roughly onto the floor, crossed to the closet, gazed inside for a moment, before pulling out a bright yellow nylon plastic windcheater. He returned and immediately noticed a small bulge had reappeared under Paul's skirt.
He gave a nod of satisfaction. 'Looks like being treated rough is turning you on, bitch.'
In his mind, Paul had to agree. The feeling of being treated so roughly was incredibly exciting. The man squatted down, pulled Paul's skirt up, wrenched out his cock from beneath the satin panties and proceeded to tie Paul's cock and balls up. Paul moaned in pain.
The man had tied the rope exceedingly tight. Ignoring Paul's cries of pain, the man smoothed down Paul's skirt once more, delighting in its feel. He then picked up the plastic windbreaker and held it tightly over Paul's mouth and nose. It didn't take Paul long to realize he couldn't breathe properly through the plastic material. He panicked and began to violently struggle.
All it achieved was to excite his penis even more, which strained itself against the rope as it tried to engorge itself. Finally the man took away the windbreaker, allowing Paul to take a huge gasp of air.
'Oh I'm not finished yet,' muttered the man, as he stood up, crossed over to the closet and pulled out the pleated netball skirt Paul had considered wearing earlier on. The man then violently began to whip Paul's face with the skirt. The thrill of simply having contact with the skirt, seeing it in the man's hands, made Paul's cock swell with cum unable to be released. The pain was excruciating but delightful.
'Well,' demanded the man.
Paul knew what to say. 'Please, sir. Fuck me, I want you to fuck my arse.'
Without a word the man rolled Paul onto his stomach, pulled up his skirt and yanked down his panties. Already in pain from the tight ropes around his arms and legs and the tight cord around his balls; Paul screamed loudly as the man's enormous swollen cock entered his arse. Swearing, the man grabbed the plastic windbreaker and shoved it deep into Paul's mouth.
Next he tied the arms of the jacket tightly around Paul's head. Smiling with pleasure, the man began to thrust into Paul's arse. Paul let out muffled cries of pain and struggled to roll over. This only excited the man more, whose breathing grew louder and louder. Finally after what seemed ages, he pulled out of Paul, quickly ripped off the plastic windbreaker, stood up, thrust his cock into Paul's mouth and came.
Paul felt a great torrent of salty cum fill his mouth. With a sigh of pleasure, the man withdrew his cock. Paul immediately spat out the cum with most of it landing on the abandoned netball skirt. The man chose not to notice this, but instead undid the rope around Paul's cock, grabbed the plastic windbreaker, wrapped it around Paul's cock and jerked him off.
It took only a second for Paul to cum. Hot wet cum splashed over the plastic windbreaker. Paul groaned in pleasure.
'I think its time you cleaned up the mess you made, sissy.'
Paul looked up at the man, 'What mess do you mean?' asked Paul, as he quickly glanced at the cum soaked windbreaker, and netball skirt.
'You know what mess I mean,' snarled the man, in an excited voice.
He wrenched Paul onto his knees and placed the soiled netball skirt in front of him.
'Lick it,' said the man.
'Please,' begged Paul. 'Can you just untie me?'
'After you clean the skirt and jacket.'
Reluctantly Paul bent over and began to lick the skirt and jacket clean. All the while the man watched, his cock growing harder with every passing minute. Standing up, the man walked back over to the closet, examined the contents before pulling out a beautiful PVC French maid uniform and a pair of black PVC thigh high boots. He exclaimed loudly as his cock hardened even more.
'I told you I love PVC, sissy, and I can't wait to fuck you in this after punishing you for being a such a little sissy girl.'
'Please,' Paul begged. 'I don't think my arse can take anymore.'
'Too bad,' the man replied. 'If you insist on dressing up in women's clothing and turning guys on, then you can get fucked like the sissy you are.'
There was nothing Paul could say. With the taste of cum in his mouth and a painful dull numbness where the ropes cut into his skin, he couldn't help but notice the front of his black shiny PVC skirt beginning to stick out in front of him, from his bulging cock. He knew he was going to wear the plastic maid's outfit and the matching boots, and he knew he would love the pain that would come from wearing the outfit. He smiled with happiness.
The first thing he had done was to have a shower and remove all his body hair. Gazing at his naked self in the mirror, he was pleased with the results. Forcing down a shudder of anticipation and excitement, he reached for the first garment. The feel of the silvery satin panties held in his hands was electric. Unable to help himself, his penis swelled and erected. With a short exhalation of breath and a flutter in his stomach, he slid the panties up his legs and over his throbbing penis.
He paused momentarily to tuck his cock away, so as to make it less noticeable. Next he grasped the matching satin bra and fastened it on. Before gazing once more at the mirror, he stuffed a pair of fake breast cups into the bra. He loved what he saw.
God, the feeling of satin against his skin was amazing, but still there was more to come. His eyes fell to the pair of black nylon stockings lying on the bed. Barely able to contain himself, he grabbed them and sensually rolled them up his legs. Oh how he had missed the feel of nylon stockings! That slight rasping swishing noise as they rubbed together when he moved.
Forcing himself not to look in the mirror again, he quickly donned a long straight black wig and then spent the next ten minutes applying make-up to his face. The effect was amazing. Gone were the masculine features, only to be replaced with a more pleasing feminine aspect. He couldn't have been any more pleased with his work.
Returning to the bedroom, he quickly moved towards the closet and pulled out a recently bought pink satin blouse. Without a moments hesitation he slipped it on, and with slightly shaking hands, fastened the buttons. Gazing once more into the closet, his face frowned with the decision of what to wear next. With one hand he pulled out a silver pleated skirt and with the other, a shiny black PVC skirt. He stood there trying to decide which one to wear. His eyes momentarily flicked towards a bright red pleated netball skirt. Should he wear that? He did have an intense fetish for netball skirts, but he decided against it. It wouldn't go that well with the satin blouse.
Another moment of hesitation followed, before he finally decided on the PVC skirt. It would match the black PVC knee high boots he had been dying to wear. Unzipping the skirt, he stepped into it and slid it up his legs, before refastening the zip. How to describe the feeling he felt. It was unbelievable. Every movement caused the skirt to make a rustling plastic sound. He ran his hand down the skirt and delighted in its smooth plastic feel. Lastly, and with much excitement, he slipped into the knee high PVC boots. His look was complete.
Having finished dressing, he allowed his mind to dwell on the reason he had gone to the trouble of dressing up as a girl. He wanted to be used, to be humiliated and treated in a worthless manner. And so he had arranged a meeting with a stranger to act out his fantasy. He couldn't deny feeling nervous. He had never done anything like this before. And deep down he knew, once he walked down this path he could never come back.
A shiver ran down his spine. Perhaps it was the cold, perhaps his nerves. Nevertheless, he crossed once more to the closet and pulled out a shiny pink nylon down jacket and put it on. He had always loved nylon down jackets. The amazing feel of the nylon and that seductive rustle of the material as you moved. He went into the living room and sat down on the sofa, enjoying the feel of his outfit, and waited for the knock on the door.
He didn't have long to wait; barely an hour had passed before there was a knock on the door. His heart pumping and with his legs feeling like jelly, he answered the door. Before him stood a man in his late forties, tall and incredibly well built.
'Hi,' he said.
'Hi,' Paul replied, involuntary swallowing. 'Please come in.' The man stepped inside and gave a very satisfied smile. It appeared he liked what he saw. They sat down on the sofa together and exchanged pleasant small talk before the man made a comment on Paul's outfit.
'I love what you are wearing. PVC always turns me on.'
'Thank you,' I replied, glancing quickly down at his crotch; indeed there was a noticeable bulge in his pants. His eyes followed Paul's and another smile crossed his face.
'What do you suggest we do about that?' he asked. His voice held no trace of embarrassment or awkwardness. It conveyed confidence and desire. Paul's on the other hand, was filled with nervousness and a touch of fear.
'I was hoping we could play a game.' The words came out breathless and shaking. He raised his eyebrows and looked deeply at Paul.
'A game you say. What kind of game?'
In a voice barely a whisper, Paul answered, 'How would you feel about tying me up and giving me 30 minutes to escape. If I escape, you have to go home. If I can't escape then I'll give you a blow-job.' Paul swallowed nervously again upon saying the word blow-job. God, he had never given a blow-job to another person in his life.
The man smiled again. Paul couldn't help but notice the man's erection had become rock hard. 'Sounds fun,' he finally said after a short pause.
'But, I didn't come all this way just for a blow-job. And if I'm going to take the time to play your game and tie you up, I want a little more than that.'
Paul's stomach contracted; his heart raced. Paul knew what he was referring to. Dumbly, he nodded his head. Upon seeing this, he once again smiled and licked his lips.
'Shall we begin, then?' A small trace of excitement had etched itself into his voice.
Paul could only nod once more. He then stood up and crossed the room, where he picked up a bag full of rope, before returning and handing it to the man. Not bothering to look inside, he tossed the bag onto the sofa and began to unbutton his shirt.
'What are you doing?' Paul stupidly asked.
'Just getting comfortable,' the man replied. Before Paul knew it, the man was standing naked in front of him. His erection was fully revealed; it was a massive cock, fully erect and dripping with pre-cum. 'Now,' said the man in a more serious voice, 'If you feel things are starting to get out of hand, and you want to stop, just say the word, cupcake.' Paul nodded, somewhat relieved they would be using a safe word.
'Turn around and put your hands behind your back,' whispered the man. Paul complied. He immediately felt the man behind him, felt his erection press up against his skirt, and felt his hands caress the material of his jacket and skirt. The material made that beautiful rustling noise, which sent a shiver of excitement down Paul's spine. The next sensation he felt was rope being pulled tightly around his wrists. Pulled around very tightly.
Paul gave an involuntary gasp of pleasure. He had dreamed of being tied up all his life and now, it was suddenly happening. 'Oh you like that do you?' asked the man. 'Well, you'll like this next one, then.' Before Paul could reply, he felt rope go around his elbows and felt them suddenly pulled together. Paul let out another gasp, but this one was a gasp of pain. Such beautiful pain.
Pain, Paul had never experienced before. Pausing only to rub his cock once again on Paul's skirt, this time leaving a small trace of pre-cum glistening on the shiny plastic material, the man sat Paul on the sofa and proceeded to bind Paul's ankles and knees. 'Very nice,' the man murmured. 'I'm enjoying tying you up. But that won't do,' he said, pointing to the small tent that had arisen in the front of Paul's skirt.
With that he stood Paul up, lifted his skirt up and pulled out his cock. Paul could only gasp. His heart was beating too fast for him to say anything. There he was, dressed in women's clothing, tied up in front of a naked man. His dream had come true. Without a second thought, the man began to jerk Paul off. Hard, strong jerks that left Paul gasping and moaning in pleasure. In only a few short moments, Paul suddenly felt himself begin to climax.
'Oh God,' he thought, 'how could being jerked off by another man feel so wonderful?' Sensing Paul was about to cum, the man grabbed a piece of paper from the coffee table and held it under Paul's cock. With an almighty moan, Paul felt himself ejaculate onto the piece of paper.
'Good girl!' exclaimed the man. 'We can't have that horrible thing sticking out under your skirt, can we.' And then in a move that took Paul by surprise, the man quickly thrust the cum soaked piece of paper into his mouth. The cum tasted hot, salty and slimy. Paul tried to spit it out. But he was not fast enough. The man had produced a roll of duct tape and proceeded to gag Paul with it.
'Much better,' the man replied, as he smoothed down Paul's skirt before pushing him violently onto the bed. Things were starting to get a little rough. Paul attempted to role onto his back but the man prevented him from doing so, and held him down, lying on his stomach.
'Oh we're not finished yet, my pretty,' he excitedly said. He grabbed another piece of rope and tied it around Paul's wrists; then roughly pulling Paul's legs towards his hands, proceeded to tie the rope around his ankles. Paul suddenly found himself painfully hog-tied and gagged with a piece of cum filled paper in his mouth.
'Oh very nice,' muttered the man as he sat down in a chair opposite Paul. 'Now I want you to struggle as hard as you can. If you free yourself, then I'll go home. And if you don't, I'm going to fuck your arse and your mouth and make you taste my cum.' With that, he began to slowly masturbate himself.
Paul felt a momentary flash of fear. The ropes were too tight and too well done. He knew he couldn't escape, and he began to panic. What if he didn't want to be fucked and used? Luckily there was the safe word. He began to struggle, desperately trying to undo the ropes. But it was impossible. All he managed to produce was a loud rustling and swishing noise from his plastic jacket, his nylon stockings and the PVC skirt.
The noise only seemed to excite the man, whose cock bulged and hardened as he stroked it. For what seemed an hour Paul struggled as the piece of paper in his mouth dissolved into a wet mass of cum and saliva. Exhausted, Paul finally stopped struggling.
'That's too bad,' grinned the man, rising up. 'Looks like I win your little game.' He came and stood over Paul and quickly undid the piece of rope binding Paul's wrists and ankles together. With a muffled sigh of relief, Paul stretched out his legs behind him.
'Mmm,' said the man. 'I love that skirt your wearing. Let me just touch it.' And so he did, by lowering himself over Paul and rubbing his cock over the PVC skirt. Leaving a noticeable trail of pre-cum, the man moaned and groaned before finally sitting up and removing Paul's gag. Immediately, Paul spat out the remains of the piece of paper and coughed loudly as he did so.
'Oh, I'll give you something to cough about,' breathed the man, as he pulled Paul up and forced him onto his knees. And it was then that Paul tasted his first cock. The feeling was surreal. As Paul began to suck on the cock, he truly felt like a woman. Above him, the man moaned and groaned, enjoying the pleasure of having his cock sucked. But soon he had had enough of that.
Leaning down, he whispered in Paul's ear, 'You know what's coming next don't you.'
Paul nodded his head. The man then suddenly slapped Paul roughly across the face.
'Then beg me for it, you sissy.'
The shock of the slap took Paul by surprise. Before he could reply, the man slapped him again, harder. Reeling from the pain, Paul attempted to stammer out some words but nothing came out. Grinning cruelly the man shoved Paul roughly onto the floor, crossed to the closet, gazed inside for a moment, before pulling out a bright yellow nylon plastic windcheater. He returned and immediately noticed a small bulge had reappeared under Paul's skirt.
He gave a nod of satisfaction. 'Looks like being treated rough is turning you on, bitch.'
In his mind, Paul had to agree. The feeling of being treated so roughly was incredibly exciting. The man squatted down, pulled Paul's skirt up, wrenched out his cock from beneath the satin panties and proceeded to tie Paul's cock and balls up. Paul moaned in pain.
The man had tied the rope exceedingly tight. Ignoring Paul's cries of pain, the man smoothed down Paul's skirt once more, delighting in its feel. He then picked up the plastic windbreaker and held it tightly over Paul's mouth and nose. It didn't take Paul long to realize he couldn't breathe properly through the plastic material. He panicked and began to violently struggle.
All it achieved was to excite his penis even more, which strained itself against the rope as it tried to engorge itself. Finally the man took away the windbreaker, allowing Paul to take a huge gasp of air.
'Oh I'm not finished yet,' muttered the man, as he stood up, crossed over to the closet and pulled out the pleated netball skirt Paul had considered wearing earlier on. The man then violently began to whip Paul's face with the skirt. The thrill of simply having contact with the skirt, seeing it in the man's hands, made Paul's cock swell with cum unable to be released. The pain was excruciating but delightful.
'Well,' demanded the man.
Paul knew what to say. 'Please, sir. Fuck me, I want you to fuck my arse.'
Without a word the man rolled Paul onto his stomach, pulled up his skirt and yanked down his panties. Already in pain from the tight ropes around his arms and legs and the tight cord around his balls; Paul screamed loudly as the man's enormous swollen cock entered his arse. Swearing, the man grabbed the plastic windbreaker and shoved it deep into Paul's mouth.
Next he tied the arms of the jacket tightly around Paul's head. Smiling with pleasure, the man began to thrust into Paul's arse. Paul let out muffled cries of pain and struggled to roll over. This only excited the man more, whose breathing grew louder and louder. Finally after what seemed ages, he pulled out of Paul, quickly ripped off the plastic windbreaker, stood up, thrust his cock into Paul's mouth and came.
Paul felt a great torrent of salty cum fill his mouth. With a sigh of pleasure, the man withdrew his cock. Paul immediately spat out the cum with most of it landing on the abandoned netball skirt. The man chose not to notice this, but instead undid the rope around Paul's cock, grabbed the plastic windbreaker, wrapped it around Paul's cock and jerked him off.
It took only a second for Paul to cum. Hot wet cum splashed over the plastic windbreaker. Paul groaned in pleasure.
'I think its time you cleaned up the mess you made, sissy.'
Paul looked up at the man, 'What mess do you mean?' asked Paul, as he quickly glanced at the cum soaked windbreaker, and netball skirt.
'You know what mess I mean,' snarled the man, in an excited voice.
He wrenched Paul onto his knees and placed the soiled netball skirt in front of him.
'Lick it,' said the man.
'Please,' begged Paul. 'Can you just untie me?'
'After you clean the skirt and jacket.'
Reluctantly Paul bent over and began to lick the skirt and jacket clean. All the while the man watched, his cock growing harder with every passing minute. Standing up, the man walked back over to the closet, examined the contents before pulling out a beautiful PVC French maid uniform and a pair of black PVC thigh high boots. He exclaimed loudly as his cock hardened even more.
'I told you I love PVC, sissy, and I can't wait to fuck you in this after punishing you for being a such a little sissy girl.'
'Please,' Paul begged. 'I don't think my arse can take anymore.'
'Too bad,' the man replied. 'If you insist on dressing up in women's clothing and turning guys on, then you can get fucked like the sissy you are.'
There was nothing Paul could say. With the taste of cum in his mouth and a painful dull numbness where the ropes cut into his skin, he couldn't help but notice the front of his black shiny PVC skirt beginning to stick out in front of him, from his bulging cock. He knew he was going to wear the plastic maid's outfit and the matching boots, and he knew he would love the pain that would come from wearing the outfit. He smiled with happiness.
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