Tuesday, January 22

The kiss (2)

(continued from here)

Some guest dropped me off at my flat that night. I was still so elated an drunk that I had not considered it necessary to change back to my male clothes. Luckily, in the early hours no one saw me in the stairs as I sneaked into my appartment. I only took off the dress and went to bed wearing my lingerie: stockings, bra, panties and, of course, the shiny steel cage. For the first time I had time to examine it closely. It was solid and well crafted. It was certainly impossible to remove it without a key or professional help. This confirmation was a bit of a scare, but awkwardly, a turn on too: I really was in the power of who held the key! But I was tired. After a while I fell into a light and intermittent sleep, half awake, patches of my memories of this extraordinary night mingling with my dreams.

In the morning I woke with my cock aching in its cage. I took a cold shower and managed to shrink it enough so I was able to pee. Then I dressed in ordinary male clothes and put the women's stuff in the washing machine. Finally, I had come down. I did not feel horny at all anymore. Instead I felt guilty and worried. I had given some show yesterday! Everyone had seen that I had loved it. How would people see me from now on? - Don't overreact, I told myself. It had only been a party. A bit wild, but with mostly cool people. A drunk guy enjoying an evening in drag shouldn't be a big deal. But there was this other thing. The chastity device. That was not common, that would be talked of for a long time! Worse, it was not past, it was all too present. I still was it's prisoner! I definitely had to get rid of it as soon as possible! I decided not to loose anymore time and call Marianne...Before I dialled the number I took a deep breath. Yesteday was yesterday, but today, on an ordinary sunday, all too sober, it was more than awkward to come back to that topic and discuss it with some other person. A person I knew, but was not so intimate with that I would have ever spoken to her about such things if I could have avoided it.
The phone kept ringing, until I heard the answering machine:
"We're not home right now. Please leave a message."

I put the receiver down. This was really becoming stressful. Now the person who could and should rid me of my embarrassment wasn't contactable. What did this woman think? Well, it's true it was only 9.00AM. She might well be still asleep. Or out. She actually had said, tomorrow afternoon. Don't panic, Fried! I'd better set me a time when to call again. It's no good to look desperate. No, I had to make myself handle it coolly. I decided not to call again before 3.00 PM.
It was a long, long wait. At 3.00PM sharp I called again. This time I got through.

"Hello, it's me, Fried. I just wanted to ask if it is ok if I come over right now for the key, you know, and to return the clothes."
"Oh, hello Fried. Yeah, sure. Why don't you come over for tea? At four. Ok?"
"Great! Thank you!"
"Don't mention it. Ah, Fried?"
"It would be nice if you were wearing the dress when you come!"
"Yeah, and make yourself up nicely, as well as you can, ok? We're having our regular all girl's tea this afternoon. You understand: no guys. But if you come nicely dressed, I think no one will mind..."
"Oh Marianne... erm... I can't do that! And I don't think it's necessary, I'll just ring at your door, give you the parcel with the dress and you give me the key for just a minute and it's all over. I really don't want to disturb!"
"Don't be silly! You are very welcome to our tea! Actually, every of us girls is already anxious to meet you and to talk about yesterday! I think you did a fantastic thing! So just dress up nicely and show up at four. Please!"
"Marianne! You can't possibly expect..."
"You do want you key back, don't you? So see you in an hour..."
And she hung up!

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Damn this woman! Who gives her the right to play games with me? I could have smashed the phone on the wall. But I didn't. I'm not that kind of person. After a couple of minutes I calmed down a bit. I had to take the dress and the lingerie out of the machine anyway. I probably should iron it. And then I would appear at her door in male clothes, her stuff neatly packed in a parcel, and claim the damn key. She couldn't possibly refuse it then, could she?
As I took the stuff out and straightened the smooth stockings, saw the transparent panties, the bra and spread the actually very pretty dress to iron it, I got that strange feeling in my guts. Awful, but irresistible! Unspeakable. I knew the feeling. I've had it before, occasionally, though I shamefully avoid to remember it. And I definitely have never told anybody anything about it. It is when my anger is transforming into submissive lust. Five minutes later I was carefully ironing the dress. Only dressed in Marianne's panties, bra and stockings. Of course I would put it on. I only had to figure out how I would get to her appartment unseen...

(to be continued)