Cross dressed slavery

I let her fasten it on me, felt it’s tightness around my waist, and I commented that it went with the hood. She said, You know what else would work? And she lifted a bright shiny pair of handcuffs from behind her, smiling like a little girl. I had to laugh as she spun me around and snapped them on my wrists. This was getting ridiculous. She led me back to the platform, and I have to say I presented a very alluring package. Underneath it all I felt my penis stiffen, straining against the lycra tights. I glanced down at that bulge of manhood, and for some reason I felt upset that it showed, not embarrassed, but upset. Leena glanced down and said don’t worry about it. I was startled and looked at her to see if we were talking about the same thing. She reached out and smoothed the dress over my pulsing hard-on, and said, It doesn’t really show.

Suddenly the buzzer rang, signaling the arrival of the Japanese buyer. Leena jumped down off the platform and ran for the door. It would take five minutes for the freight elevator to get downstairs and bring them back up. I looked at myself, suddenly terrified at being seen this way. I looked like a woman, and more than that I looked like an ad for sex, in the tight sweater dress, my arms locked behind my back, red lips peeking out from behind the bondage hood. I felt this urge to hide, but at the same time I was proud of my silhouette, and I stood up a little straighter, there on the platform. Leena came running back in, a crooked smile on her face. What is it?, I said. She shrugged and told me that if I opened my mouth the whole illusion would fall apart, and this buyer was notorious for grilling the models on the cut and feel of the outfit. So I’ll play dumb, I said. Leena said, That might work, or…Her eyes lit up, and she was off to her office again.

A second later she was back with a black rubber ball, fit with a strap and a small circular aperture in the center. Put this on, she said, and we will play up the whole bondage angle.