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Chapter 4: Seduced by Satin

"You think after you disappoint me like that, I'm just going to forgive you?"

Harper's lips were tight, hands on her hips as she scowled at me. My guilt had turned into remorse, which was now rapidly morphing into fear. What was she going to do to me? I could only think of two outcomes, and I couldn't figure out which one I was more afraid of: her telling Riley, or not letting me put on lingerie again.

"I'm really sorry, Harper," I said morosely, starting at her feet.

Who wears heels like that around the house?

They were shiny black and pointy-toed with a slim stiletto heel. The soles were painted red, which I knew meant they were expensive. For some reason, that made them even sexier.

"I gave you very clear instructions," she growled. "If I can't trust you to do a simple thing like that, how can I trust you at all?"

"You can!" I said, trying to keep my voice even. "I — I won't let it happen again, Harper."

"You're absolutely right," she snapped. "Because if it does, this is over between us, do you understand?"

"Would you… tell your husband?"

"Don't give me a reason to," she said, eyes flashing.

I gulped and nodded, the stakes clear.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled again. "I, uh, I did… You know."

"I'm afraid I don't."

"I, uh, played with myself. In the nightie."

I glanced up at her and was relieved to see her scowl had opened into a broad grin. But there was something about it that sent ice through my veins. I felt like a rabbit trapped in its den, the fox circling slowly outside. Whatever was happening between us was now totally out of my control — if it had ever been.

"And you made your little sissy mess?" she asked, looking knowingly at me.

"Uh, yeah," I said sheepishly. "What is a sissy, anyway? I looked it up last night, and… Is that kind of thing what you want?"

"What did you see?"

"A lot of guys in dresses."

"And?"

"And…" I said slowly, embarrassment flooding me. "There were women with them."

"What were they like?" Harper asked, closing the distance between us.

"Strong. Dominant."

"Is that how you see me, Tom?" She was standing in front of me now, looming over me. "Strong and dominant?"

Her plaid skirt was short and pleated. If I was just a little lower, I'd be able to see her panties. I thought I could see the outline of her bra through her tight, white t-shirt.

Is this how she just dresses around the house?

"I mean, yeah. I guess so," I said, staring at the smooth line of her thigh disappearing into her skirt. "You're very… You're good at being in charge."

"And you liked wearing the nightie, right? How did it make you feel?"

She was leaning down now, bending at the waist. She was looking at my eyes, but I was looking at her breasts. They were almost spilling out of the low-cut V of her shirt.

The nightie, I reminded myself, swiveling my gaze back up to her eyes. Tell her about the nightie.

"Nice, I guess," I answered.

"Not just nice, Tom. It made you feel something deeper than that."

"I don't know!" I sighed. "Delicate? Pretty?"

"Desirable?" she suggested with a smile.

"Yeah, I guess."

She leaned forwards, one hand between my legs on the couch cushion, her mouth next to my ear. "Did it make you want someone to come and ravage you?"

Her voice made pinpricks explode down my neck and side. I shivered and emitted a tiny gasp.

"Did it make you want someone to come play with you? Use you as a pretty little toy?" she continued, the hand moving to my thigh.

"Yeah, Harper," I said, realizing my eyes were shut but lacking the strength to open them.

"Do you want me to kiss you and hold you and make you feel like you belong to me? And then ride you until I cum all over your dick?"

"Oh god, yes," I gasped.

The hand was on my shoulder now, her fingers draped across me.

"You don't want to fuck me. You want me to fuck you. Actually, you don't even want me to fuck you."

"Yeah, I do," I objected weakly, managing to open my eyes. "Don't I? What do I want?"

Suddenly she shoved me backwards against the couch cushions. She put her knee between my legs, both hands on my shoulders, leaning against me. I stared up at her in awe, our noses almost brushing.

"You want me to use you," she whispered, lips so close to mine we were practically kissing. "You want me to tell you how sexy you are, and then you want to beg me to use you. You want to be my toy. My sissy slut."

"Oh fuck, Harper," I moaned.

I was so hard it almost hurt.

"Tell me you want it."

"I…" I swallowed, mouth drying out as I tried to say the words. "I… want to be…"

Her eyes narrowed, face darkening.

"I want to be," I tried again, surprised at the words coming out of my own mouth. "Your sissy slut."

"Prove it," she breathed, kissing me.

Her tongue forced its way between my lips as she held me against the couch. She slid her knee forwards until it was pressed against my cock. I moaned against her, reaching up to her head and holding it between my hands. She knew me better than I knew myself.

She's going to give me exactly what I want.

So the slap was a cruel shock.