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Chapter 3: Letting Her Down

The second I got home, I ran to my computer.

What did she call me? A "sissy?"

The search results shouldn't have turned me on as much as they did. Guys wearing frilly dresses and girly lingerie on their hands on knees. Cocks swinging between legs while a grinning woman fucked them with strap-ons. Stockings and panties, smeared makeup. Women in control. Pink lace and blue satin, lipstick and eye shadow and cocks in mouths and —

I slammed my laptop lid shut, heart pounding.

That is not_ what I am into._

My cock was probably hard because I was thinking about Harper. After all, she had insisted I put on lingerie before we had sex. It would make sense that seeing it again would get me hard, especially since I hadn't cum. That made way more sense than being turned on from all that… sissy stuff.

Because there was no way I was ever going to let someone fuck me in my ass.

I spent the rest of the day trying not to think about Harper or the nightie or what a sissy was. Despite my best efforts, they kept creeping into my mind. Every time I thought about panties, I felt myself get a little hard. I finally decided I wasn't going to spend any more time thinking about it — but the harder I tried to ignore it, the harder I got.

"Your dick is mine now, Tom."

Her words echoed in my head, alternately exciting me and terrifying me. Why was the idea of belonging to her like that so thrilling? It was just going to be a one-time thing with her. She was never going to touch my cock again, much less "own" it. It was a ridiculous idea anyway. The only way she even could is if I let her.

And that was never going to happen.

The nightie was laying across my bed when I finally allowed myself back into my room. I had stayed up way later than I wanted to. The game had ended hours ago, but for some reason I couldn't pull myself off the couch and back into my room where the lingerie was. Too much happened today, I guess. I was too amped up.

I manhandled the garment like it was a t-shirt, grabbing it from the middle and letting it crumple over my hands. I felt a pang of guilt, like I was mistreating some beautiful thing. I shifted it, letting it drape across my fingers so it wouldn't wrinkle. The cool, dark fabric caught the light. It was stunning, actually. The lace was so intricate. Why didn't guys have anything like this to wear?

Without meaning to, I thought about how it would feel on my dick. It wouldn't be weird to try it, right? Girls wear it because it feels nice, right? When else would I get a chance?

Before I knew it, I was naked, my hard cock wrapped in the smooth, soft nightie. It felt incredible. Nothing I'd ever worn or touched had been like this. I began to pump myself, Harper's face coming into focus in my mind. She was grinning that same, animal grin she had been that afternoon.

I sat heavily on the bed, laying backwards. Harper's imaginary hand was on my cock as I stroked myself.

"You look so good in blue," she whispered to me while she played with me. "Don't you want to feel it on your body?"

Yes.

I slid the panties up my legs and the nightie over my head. They brushed against my skin, which was suddenly covered in goosebumps. I was so hard, the panties could barely contain my cock.

"That's my cock," Harper corrected in my mind. "You're lucky I'm letting you play with it."

Thank you, Harper.

"Don't forget it, slut."

I began to rub myself through the panties, the satin slippery and wonderful. I was lucky, getting to wear such beautiful, sensuous things. The lace trim was gorgeous.

It's not fair that girls get this kind of thing. Why can't I wear things like this all the time?

"You will," Harper whispered. "That cock belongs to me, and the only place I want it is in panties. Because you're my sissy slut now."

My cock slipped out of the satin confines of the panties. I wrapped it in the nightie, the lace trim teasing the tip. Illicit pleasure coursed through my body. It felt so good, even as it felt so wrong — but I couldn't stop.

"I'm going to bend you over and fuck you, and you're going to beg me for it," Harper whispered while she stroked me. "You're going to be my pantied sissy slut. Your life is lace and satin from now on. Now, be my good sissy and cum in your lingerie."

I exploded in it, my mind filled with the images I'd seen on my computer. Harper's face morphed into the latex-clad dominatrix standing over a guy furiously stroking himself in a skirt. She was laughing as she fucked me from behind, then she was teasing my cock with her mouth, pushing back layers of frothy petticoats to reach it.

"Fuck!" I groaned as I sprayed cum into the nightie.

I peeled it off and tossed it in the laundry basket, then shed the panties and got in the shower. I reflected on the fantasies I'd had while I scrubbed my cum off my belly. I expected to be disgusted by it, but to my surprise I wasn't. I was curious — if anything, still excited. By the time I finished in the shower, I was almost hard again, imagining myself in a tiny maid's dress.

Is that something I could try? Is that something Harper wants to —

My phone beeped, and my stomach dropped. I ran to it, towel falling off my waist, a trail of wet footsteps on the carpet behind me. With trembling hands, I picked it up and turned on the screen to read the text I had just received from her.

"Where's my fucking video, slut?"