A Year in the Life of... Chapter 4

Okay, well let's see what's in this letter then.

"Slave."

For me again he thought.

"By now you should have your uniform and be prepared the way I want you. There has been no mistake and I expect you dressed when I return."

Hmmm, well not much ambiguity there, pretty straight forward and to the point.

"The stockings have seams down the back and I expect them to be straight and your stockings to leave four inches of thigh showing when worn and to be level at the top. I am fully aware that you may have had little experience of walking in heels but you will soon get used to them, just remember heel, toe, heel, toe, and to take smaller steps than if you were wearing flat soled shoes. I look forward to seeing my pretty girl dressed for the first time."

She had called him a pretty girl. Was he the only one who could see something wrong with this picture?

Oh well, it seemed he had little choice in this matter but to get dressed as a 'girl'. It was either that or take his chances evading Ibrahim and doing a runner; but where would he go? Right, fine, he thought, I'll put on the stupid clothes and then she'll be sorry because let's face it I'm not going to make a very good girl am I.

He thought about where he should begin and experimentally picked up the panties, all the time wishing that Ibrahim would leave him so he could get on with dressing in private. He couldn't help but think that Ibrahim must be some kind of pervert, standing there, watching some dude dress up in girlie clothes. He stepped into the panties and pulled them on and was surprised that they actually felt kind of nice against his skin and hugged his ass very comfortably. They were a little snug around his old fella but he thought as long as he didn't sit down too quickly then he would probably get away with it. He picked up the bra and held it at arm's length. Of course he'd had experience before of taking them off but when it came to putting one on he was a complete novice. He slipped it onto his arms and felt the satin cups against his bare chest whilst reaching around the back and trying to hook the ends together. He struggled for a minute or so before closing his eyes and swallowing loudly and then asking with a quavering voice.