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Chapter 6: Roommate

"Pink or — oh, who am I kidding?" she giggled, pulling a dress from the closet and throwing it at me. "You're a pink gal, of course. "

She pulled a white, layered garment off a hanger and tossing it on the bed next to me. Sheer with lace trim, it slowly settled into a girlish heap next to me.

That's going on me. And then she's going to — I couldn't bring myself to even think it.

But that didn't make my cock any less hard.

"Why are you still wearing boy clothes, Jessi?" she asked me, and I could hear the "i" in the name.

"'Jessi?'"

"Boys named 'Payton' don't wear big poufy dresses, sweetie," she said, turning around to face me, her strap- on wiggling beneath and tenting her dress. "Pretty sissy sluts named Jessi sure do."

"If I'm Jessi, who are you?"

"Just call me Mistress," she said with raised eyebrows.

"Mistress…" I trailed off, hoping for a name.

"Just 'Mistress,'" she snapped. "Now get naked so we can make you all nice and pretty!"

"Yes, Mistress," I said shakily, pulling off my shirt.

Suddenly, she was on top of me, her hand resting on my crotch. Her dress draped across my legs and naked chest, her strap-on pressing against my thigh. I sucked in air. It seemed huge; its weight and thickness and length bigger than it had seemed under her dress. I still hadn't seen more than its rosy tip.

"I'm going to fuck you until you're nothing but a dribbling mess of a slut," she whispered, mouth next to my ear. "I'm going to make you scream my name while your little sissy cock sprays cum all over the inside of your dress. I'm going to make you beg me to send you home in panties."

I couldn't help it. I moaned; a low, shuddering sound that came from deep within my chest.

"When I'm done with you, you'll never want to be treated any other way."

"Yes," I whispered, turning to kiss her. "I want that."

"I know, slut," she said, pulling back before my lips could touch her. "So get. Fucking. Dressed."

I wrenched off my pants and underwear, letting the puddle around my ankles. With quivering hands, I reached out to the white, lacy garment next to the dress. It was a skirt made from layers of something soft and sheer, the hems trimmed in long, soft lace. Just holding it filled my stomach with butterflies. I was so excited to put it on, I was almost sick.

"That's your petticoat," Mistress explained. "It keeps your dress looking all nice and girly. Plus, it feels just divine against your skin."

The fabric made goosebumps explode across my body as I pulled it up my legs. When I had it settled in place around my waist, my cock was buried in its lacy cloud. Every movement made it rustle deliciously. The lace brushed across my cock, caressing it like nothing else had.

" Oh, " I said in quiet surprise.

"Do you like that, Jessi?"

"Yes," I admitted. "Yes, I do."

"Show me. Like you did in the video."

I swallowed hard, then slowly reached beneath the petticoat and wrapped my fingers around my cock. I was so turned on that even that was enough to make a moan slip from my lips. My skin was electric with sensation and pleasure as I began to stroke myself.

"I want to see," she commanded.

I pushed the skirts aside to reveal my cock as I pumped. Mistress was staring at it with an expression I couldn't quite read. Not quite hungry for it, not quite distasteful. She definitely wanted me, but not my cock.

It's power, I realized. That's a look of someone turned on by control.

"Aren't you so excited to put your pretty dress on next?"

She pointed to the pink confection still laying on the bed. I hesitated before I looked at it, almost afraid of how I would react now that I was wearing the petticoat. I kept stroking myself as I did, afraid of how she'd react if I stopped. My mind was blurry now.

She let me stop playing with myself so she could help me into the dress. It was sleeveless with a halter-neck, satin ribbons tied in a fat bow behind my neck. The front was trimmed in white lace that ran under my arms, following the curve over my hips. My entire back and the very top of my ass were exposed. The skirt flared out, the pink satin trimmed with more white lace and floating atop the white cloud of the petticoat. It was perilously short, making me feel incredibly exposed and desperate for something to cover my cock and ass with.

"Panties?" I ventured.

"You've already shown you can't be trusted with them," she said. "So you don't get to wear any now. Anyway, That'll make it easier to treat you appropriately."

Oh, fuck, that sounds good, I thought as my cock twitched.

"You should put on stockings, though," she said, finding a pair in the dresser and flinging them at me.

After a few moments of uselessly trying to put them on like socks, Mistress rolled her eyes and showed me how to put them on correctly. They were semi-sheer and a shade darker than my skin. They were splattered with tiny glitter that made them shimmer as I moved.

"Do I need high heels?" I asked.

"Of course you do," she scoffed. "A slut like you can't just wear flats. "

She fished a pair of towering black stilettos out of the closet and dropped them next to me. Holding her hands, I stepped into them. My stomach tightened as I slid my stocking-covered toes into the strappy shoes, my cock bouncing under my dress. Mistress glanced at it as she fastened the tiny, silver buckles over my ankles.

"Fuck, there is nothing hotter than a cock in a petticoat," she said, looking up at me and biting her lip.

"I — I think the one you have is pretty hot," I said with a grin.

"Shut up, slut," she chided, though I could tell she appreciated the compliment. "This is my cock to play with however I want, understand?"

A shudder of illicit delight coursed through my body.

"Oh, yes, Mistress," I whispered. "Your cock. Your plaything."

"That's right, slut. You're mine. And I'm going to use you however I want."

"Does that mean you're going to — I mean, you have one too, now."

"Yes, Jessi, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to bend you over and push your pretty petticoat and little dress out of the way. You're such a slut, you didn't even wear panties for you. You're want me to fuck you, aren't you?"

Then she slurped me into her mouth. I cried out in shock and pleasure, doubling over and trying not to collapse. My feet wobbled in the heels, but I managed to stay upright as she began to eagerly suck and stroke me. I moaned loudly, the sound mixing with the swishing of my petticoats. I suddenly became keenly aware of my naked skin. I could feel pinpricks on my back, almost like someone was watching me.

"I'm going to get you so fucking horny that you'll be begging me to finish you. And when you're right on the edge, I'm going to slip my cock into you and fuck the cum right out of you. That's the way a slut like you is supposed to cum, with a big, hard dick in your ass. Is that what you want?"

"Fuck," I moaned, screwing my eyes shut as she began to suck me again. "Fuck. I don't — I don't know."

"Say it, slut. Tell me that you want my cock in you!"

"I — I —"

"Tell me how badly you want my hard cock to fuck you! Your ass was made for it, slut!"

My pleasure was quickly building. The gentle embrace of the stockings, the caress of the petticoat, the pink satin of the dress. I had stopped being me and had become Jessi. I was a sissy slut. I wanted to be one.

I need to be fucked like one, too.

"Fuck! Miss — Mistress, I want you to fuck me!" I moaned.

One of her hands had worked its way around my leg and was resting on my ass. Suddenly, she squeezed, her nails sinking into my skin. I yelped, the pain and pleasure mixing into a cocktail that made me desperate for her.

"More," I whined. "Fuck me, Mistress. Treat me like the slut I am!"

"I'm going to," she grinned. "And the more you talk like that, the harder I will."

"I need you to," I begged. "Show me how a slut is supposed to be used."

"You want me to fuck all that sweet, sticky cum out of you?"

"Yes!" I cried.

"You want me to fuck you rough and hard?"

"Oh fuck, yes."

"You might get your pretty dress all messy," she said with a faux-pout.

"Not as messy as I want you to make me."

"It looks so good on you. How does it make you feel?"

"Like a slut."

"Does it make you feel sexy?"

"And pretty. And fuckable."

And vulnerable. And desirable. Fuck, why did I wait so long to do this?

"That's the way you should always feel. Desperate for me to fuck you."

She kissed me, finally, her tongue flavored with my cock and pre-cum. She dove into my mouth with an aggressiveness matched only by how she clawed at my ass. She wrenched me to her, forcing her body against mine. One hand clenched around my chin, forcing my head upwards and backwards while she kissed down my jaw and neck. She twisted my head to the side and bit my ear. I gasped. Her strap-on pressed between my legs, her cock dwarfing my own.

That's going inside me. And then, equal parts nervous and excited: I want that inside me.

"Katie!" Suddenly there was a voice behind us.

I whirled around, breaking out of Mistress' — Katie's? — grasp. Adalyn was staring at us through the doorway, her sweater hanging off her shoulder. Strangely, she didn't look surprised. She didn't even look upset.

If I came home and found my roommate hooking up with the last girl I'd fucked, I'd be pretty pissed.

She took two steps towards us, then peeled off the sweater in a fast, fluid movement. "What the hell? You started without me?"