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Chapter 4

We settled into the new routine so easily that I barely even noticed it.

I woke before her, dressing quietly in one of the many explosively feminine dresses she bought. Each was girlish and sexy, revealing and borderline demure. Just looking at them made my cage leak. The feeling of stockings slipping up my legs never lost its electric pleasure. Everything I wore gave me a delicious, tingly charge. At first, it felt illicit, like I was doing something I wasn't supposed to.

But now I picked out what I thought would thrill her the most.

"Don't you look pretty," she purred as I swished out of the bedroom, petticoats bouncing around me.

?I had chosen a babydoll-style dress. The petticoat held up several sheer layers of fabric interwoven with tiny gemstones that twinkled in the light. The dark purple at my chest melted into pink at the lace-trimmed hem. It was so short that my high-cut panties were on full display. They were tight in the front, clearly showing the outline of my cage. The rear was a lace panel with a sweet keyhole opening at the top.

"Thank you, Mistress," I beamed, curtseying the best I could in my towering heels.

"Keep working on that," she said as she sat up in bed and shoved the sheets to the side. "I want it smooth and practiced."

She hadn't said the word "sissy" since that night. It still echoed in my head, its meaning as mysterious and sexy as ever. It had far-reaching implications. I was her sissy in a dress. Did that mean I was going to stay in them forever? I was her sissy in the cage. Did that mean I was never going to be unlocked?

Just the thought made my stomach explode with butterflies.

When I wasn't serving her directly or accomplishing the long list of chores she set out for me, I was sending her the pictures and videos she demanded. If she couldn't be home to tease me, she insisted I do it to myself and send her the evidence. I was all too happy to comply.

Her favorite way to torment me was the vibrator. I would be allotted thirty seconds to use it on my cage, and I was even allowed to cum — if I could. I would record my efforts for her as many times as she wanted me to, which was sometimes four or five times every day. And yet, despite being locked for weeks and the thrilling effect my new clothes had on me, thirty seconds was simply not enough time to cum.

But it was enough time to get even more frustrated.

I was frantic, rubbing the buzzing toy against the tip of my cage and thrilling in the hard, electric pleasure that coursed through me. It was almost as agonizing as it was satisfying to play with myself that way. My cage itself became part of the toy, restricting me even as it vibrated all around me. The lock bounced and clacked against the hard steel, my cock fighting to be free.

"Fuck, your face is so hot," she texted after one video. "You look so, so horny, baby. Do you want to cum?"

"Yes!" I replied.

"Thirty more seconds," came the response.

We both knew it wasn't enough.