River 3
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A River Of Surprises Chapter 3 free porn video
All I can say about the next morning is that I discovered that all my
male underwear and even my socks were gone. It was a case of wearing the
panties or nothing and wearing the little white ruffled socks that went
with the schoolgirl uniform, or not wearing anything at all. I wore a
pair of panties, but I didn't wear the socks, hoping that my trousers
would cover my bare ankles and hide the sissy anklet that I was still
wearing.
The day turned out unimportant, just another day in work, it was only
when I got home and thought about it that I realised that I had acted
idiotically gay and sissyish when I was talking to customers. I blushed
to myself, what was wrong with me? What a fool I am, I just had to pull
myself together and start acting normal again. The only other outstanding
thing that happened was a WhatsApp from him in the evening. My heart
leaping when I received it.
"I hope you had a good day at work girl, from now on I expect a message
from you every evening and a picture of you in a different outfit every
night. I want to see lipstick and I want you to paint your nails, do it
now and send me a picture of them."
My heart leapt as I read the words.
Accompanying the message was a link which I nervously followed. It
brought me to a private blog, it had my name on the front page and in it
was the list of photographs that he had taken of me, the last ones being
of me wearing the school uniform. I almost dropped the phone in shocked
horror. I closed it quickly, there was no doubt about the inference in
the message.
I slowly made my way up to my mother's bedroom, I was in deep thought
wondering how I had got myself into this and puzzling how was I to get
myself out of it.
Undoubtedly, I was sure that he must have misread or misjudged me when I
invited him out on my boat, but the resulting events where surely beyond
any misjudgements. The only thing I was certain of, was that he was
blackmailing me now and there was nothing I could think of to do, to stop
him. I shuddered, a horrific thought going through my mind, he
effectively had me now and unless I did something about it, god knows
what he might do.
I found the nail varnish in the top drawer of Mum's dressing table and
with a sob of frustration I tried to calm myself before I went ahead and
did as he had told me. I painted my nails, toes first and then fingers,
curiously painting them and looking at them, once again made that strange
sissy submissiveness feeling bubble up inside me. By the time that I
finished I was in a trembling submissive state and insanely, when I took
pictures of them and sent them to him, my little penis was tingling
idiotically, so much so that I felt desperate to touch it. I rubbed
myself stupidly, but once again I had an inconclusive result, part of me
was desperate to cum and part of me disgusted at myself for thinking of
such a crazy thing. After all I am a heterosexual man and being sissified
and blackmailed by a dominant forceful man, how on earth could that
possibly turn me on? It was all a confusing nightmare.
The next day I overslept and hurried to shower, it was only when I was
washing, once again trying to scrub off the brown stain from my body,
that I realised my nails were still painted. I shuddered with a mixed and
immediate response. I was horrified to see them still painted, yet that
silly sissy feeling gripped me once again. I couldn't go to work with
them like this, not with painted nails. I could cope with my toenails,
they could be hidden, but not my fingernails. I rushed out of the shower,
drying myself as I went and began to search, in growing fear, for the
nail varnish remover. After a furiously panicked five minutes I had to
give in, where mum always kept it, it was no longer there!
Time was beating me and my desperation increasing by the second, in the
end I had a brainwave and rushing out to my works van I found and put on
a pair of work gloves that I usually used in the cold weather. It wasn't
the answer, but at least it would hide things until I could do something
about it.
Apart from that obvious effect, which was continually in my mind, the day
went pretty much as normal, thank goodness. As soon as I got involved in
my work I focussed and I forgot almost everything until I arrived back
home. As I turned into the drive, it all came back to me and a knot grew
in my tummy. I took off the gloves that I had successfully worn all day
and seeing my painted nails sent my heartbeat roaring once more. In fact
I was in so much of a state that after I had my shower, I always showered
after work, I was drawn to look through my Sunday purchases. Losing
control of myself and with a fluttering heart I couldn't stop myself from
getting dressed.
Pretty sheer pink panties and a bra that matched, he had chosen all these
things. I chose a light pink blouse and a red tartan miniskirt which
flared up to the waist. There was a pair of red sandal type shoes that
seemed to go with it all so unthinking, I put them on too. My toes
peeping through the ends, vividly revealing my painted nails.
By the time that I had dressed, I felt in an un-fathoming stupidly
aroused state and stood looking at myself in front of the mirror in Mum's
bedroom. My mobile phone was in my hand, where had that come from? My
finger hovering over the button of the camera, I foolishly took the
picture, sending it to him almost before I realised it. The reply was
quick and made me jump, it said one word.
"Lipstick!"
I gave a whimpered gasp, blushing, I had been in such a state, god why
had I sent that picture? Though deep down I knew that I had to do what he
said until I could find a way to escape his clutches, but I hadn't
remembered he had told me to put lipstick on. It took me a little while
to get the lipstick looking right, but to be honest looking at myself in
the mirror as I did it was creating a humiliating self-disgust within me.
My previous foolish arousal had ebbed away and instead I was full of
nervous distaste.
I took the picture, reluctantly this time and I sent it as an ending. I
wanted it as a way of getting this over and done with, so that I could
forget the embarrassment of it all and change back into my own clothes.
He replied after a short delay. I wasn't really expecting a reply, yet it
didn't completely surprise me when he did.
"Good girl, make sure that you show me another before you go to bed this
evening. Or perhaps you'd like others to see your lovely blog!"
I looked at the message, startled, it told me two things that made my
heart sink and that built on the nervous fear that he was invoking in me.
There was the threat again, he was saying do it or else and by telling me
to send him another picture later that evening he was really telling me I
had to wear these sissy clothes all evening.
No to hell with it, I thought, I'll get the slutty clothes off and dress
in my own clothes, I'd just have to change back for the picture he wanted
later, and this I did. The evening was still disconcerting even though I
managed to control myself and did my best to focus on doing some little
jobs around the house. I made the process of dressing for the repeated
picture that he wanted, a chore, doing my best to keep at bay the
feelings it gave me when I did it. The night's sleep was poor, I was
continually thinking about my problems, going over and over, exploring
ways to escape him and when I wasn't thinking of that, I was going
through all of the events he'd put me through, continually reliving them
in my mind.
The following few days were a challenge, trying to concentrate on work,
yet trying to keep him appeased so that he didn't carry out his threats.
Wearing panties to work was no big deal, I had done that often before,
but the thrill of wearing them was somehow tainted now. It was one thing
wearing them for my own bit of fun and fantasy, but it was an entirely
different thing wearing them because someone, a man, was telling me to
wear them.
Then there was the end of each day and arriving back home after work,
knowing what he expected of me and knowing what non-compliance could do.
I wore another skirt and top on Tuesday, with the obligatory photos, I
didn't change and send them until late in the evening despite receiving
messages from him, in an effort to escape wearing them for hours or
dressing up twice. It angered him and he showed me where he had invited
new people to my blog. That sent me into a terrified spin, I begged him
not to add new people, but he told me that it was my fault for not doing
as I was told. My night's sleep was even more troubled by it all.
Needless to say, I didn't make the same mistake on the Wednesday, after I
had showered on my return home from work, I changed into a summer dress
and put on lipstick. Then I took the picture and sent it, hoping that
would be the end of him that night. His reply was again swift.
"Put on makeup; you have to practice girl."
He included a short youtube video of a girl doing eye makeup. I looked at
it in distasteful horror, but I knew that I had to do it and I knew that
the clock was ticking, he would be expecting the picture.
It took me all evening of reluctantly looking at myself in the mirror, at
first I felt disgusted with myself, I looked like a clown, then gradually
I began to feel stupidly pleased that I'd finally made a reasonable job
of it, how idiotic, what a fool I am. He didn't respond to the photo when
I finally sent it.
Thursday evening, I wore a tight slutty skirt and a crop top, the makeup
obviously expected now, but apart from that humiliating chore everything
was quiet from him. Why I kept those clothes on all evening and why they
made me feel so sexy, I have no idea, it was all too confusing.
Friday, the end of the week, go home early day. I selected another skirt
and another top, but the underwear was more of the problem. This time it
wasn't just panties and a bra, though these were quite translucent, this
time he also demanded a suspender belt and stockings. I did my makeup
thing first, then began to dress, the underwear was something else, the
stockings and suspenders on my smooth bare legs instantly sent my brain
into overdrive, making me madly aroused. I wanted to touch myself and
play.
I shook myself, tried to pull myself together and got the skirt and top
on, taking the picture in a hurry so that I could get them off before
they drove me crazy. There was a reply this time but it wasn't what I
wanted or what I was prepared for.
"Take your skirt and blouse off girl, let me see you in your pretty
undies."
It was a nightmare, his words just fuelling my stupid submissive feeling
and creating an insatiable tingling in the head of my little penis. The
thought of having to do it for him was giving me an emotional hell, yet I
knew I had to do it. I took the skirt and blouse off, trying my best to
be blas? attempting to turn it into just another horrible chore in my
mind and I sent him the picture.
There was no reply this time, so trying to supress the quivering inner
feelings I undressed with trembling fingers, before taking a deep breath
and heading to the kitchen to sort out dinner.
I was half way through cooking when my WhatsApp message went again.
"Send me another picture."
My heart leapt as I read it, a blush of embarrassment gripping me,
causing a chill to immediately flow through me. I raced upstairs and
changed again as quickly as I could, but dressing like that isn't
something that you can exactly do quickly. Eventually I sent the picture
feeling very nervous indeed.
"Why did you take so long girl? You'd taken it off hadn't you? I'm adding
some more people to your blog for that. Don't do it again, you wear what
you're told and you keep them on all evening."
I was in a state of horrible fearful humiliation as I rushed to message
him back with a lame excuse that I'd left my phone upstairs. His next
message ignored mine, but was horribly disturbing.
"You will meet me tomorrow, same time, same place. I'm really looking
forward to a lovely day on the river again darling, but this time make
sure you come wearing the dress that you wore on Wednesday and don't
forget your makeup and the plug which I know that you love so much!"
I froze in horror he wanted me to wear a dress to meet him on the boat!
The thought sent a wave of terrible fear and embarrassment through me. I
shuddered at the thought. I knew that picking him up again had been
threatened, he had said it on Sunday, but nothing had been said about
being dressed and in reality, I had hoped that he might have just given
up and forgotten all about Saturday.
My mind was reeling and I thought and worried, how could I stop this
whole nightmare. In the end I decided that there was nothing for it, I
would have to stand my ground against him and if the worse came to the
worse I would have to call his bluff. Yet deep down I knew how much I
hated and feared a confrontation, I didn't fancy it one little bit.
Just when I was convincing myself on the best course of action my
WhatsApp message bleeped again, the sound alone enough to turn me into a
nervous wreck. I picked my phone up again and nervously looked, it was
from him again, of course. Trembling, I reluctantly opened up the
message.
"Just to encourage you to be a good girl tomorrow, I thought you would
like to see this video. Make sure you do as you are told or I'll share it
with all your colleagues."
There was a video file following the message, I looked at it for a few
seconds, hardly daring to click on it, until I nervously did so. The
video went full screen and flickered for a few moments before the it
began.
There was a view of a car park next to a click and collect stand, it was
instantly recognisable as a CCTV video and there was a time and date
frame in the corner. A big white van pulled up and stopped, no one got
out then a few seconds later a car pulled up close to it.
A cold shiver went down my spine, it was my car. I didn't want to watch,
but for some crazy reason I couldn't drag my eyes from it.
He got out of the van and I got out of the car, we approached each other,
I appeared to be smiling at him, then to my horror it showed us kissing,
my hands up around his neck in a most submissively effeminate way, a
close up showing my eyes shut in the deep French kiss. The camera backed
away a little and it showed his hands over me, pulling me to him, one
hand rudely over my bottom. It went on like that for a few seconds before
we walked out of shot, my hand in his. We looked like a pair of lovers or
a father with his sissy son.
That wasn't how it had happened, somehow the video had been edited, yet
it appeared so real, if I hadn't been there, I would have believed every
second of it.
The screen flickered once more, it was obviously not the end. The video
continued showing us arriving back from the store, getting to my car,
together, still hand in hand, him one handed pushing the trolley full of
shopping for me. The body language was suggesting one of love between us.
In seconds I was standing in front of him, smiling at him, taking my
clothes off and giving them to him, until I stood there in a pair of pink
panties. My brown skin showing off the white tan lines of the bikini that
I had worn the previous day. I watched myself as I dressed in the sheer
blouse and miniskirt, close ups showing me as I did it. All through it I
appeared to be smiling sexily encouraging him. The video then showed me
reaching into my car and him feeling my bum, then a close up of me giving
him the keys of my house and kissing him again, apparently wantonly, his
hands under my skirt revealing my panty clad bum to the camera. It looked
as if I was quivering in sexual arousal in his strong arms.
The video stopped, I couldn't believe what I had seen, it was a
distortion of the facts, it had obviously been cleverly edited and it had
been edited to make it look like I was happily meeting my boyfriend and
in fact flirting with him and teasing him. It made me out to look, not
only completely gay but a sissy and a transvestite. If that video ever
got out into the public domain, then my life as I knew it would be
completely ruined, I'd probably lose my job, be put on the sex offenders
register and no longer have any friends or acquaintances.
I sat trembling in fear of what could happen, yet stupidly I was drawn to
watch the video again, I couldn't stop myself. I don't know why I did it,
I just can't explain it, I watched it over another twice or three times
and as I did so I was confused by the fact that it made my little penis
tingle, so much so that I had to touch it through my panties. What the
hell was happening to me?
After spending another broken night's sleep, I awoke early and got things
ready as usual, for the day on the river. This time I had to include the
dress, the underwear that went with it, the makeup, the horrible plug and
the sandals. It was a nightmare; I went on to prepare a picnic with a
fluttering heart, trying not to think about what the day had in store for
me.
My drive down and getting out onto the boat was annoyingly uneventful,
especially as my level of concentration had diminished to one of shear
anxiety. I got everything into the boat and tidied things up, as I always
did, for a day out on the river, but today my mind was going round and
round. First, wondering how on earth I'd manage to pick him up whilst
wearing a dress and then struggling to go through the argument, no
discussion, I so needed to have with him. It was an understatement to say
that I felt extremely nervous about it all.
Aspen
- 28.06.2022
- 13
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