My girlfriend and I are both personal trainers by day and at night we are personal
trainers of a different kind. If you know what I mean. The days are routine. We
make people sweat. By night and the occasional spillover, we make people sweat
in a different way. One of our clients, Mr. X had some interesting projects that he
needed help with from time to time. That's really funny because we call them all "Mr. X."
When he was dressed in women's clothes we called him Trisha. His turn-on was
his enforced sissy game. We attentively and carefully dressed him in women's
clothes and handcuffs so that he couldn't get out. A gag so that he couldn't talk
his way out and a hobble so that he couldn't outrun us. Then we stress-tested
him. His new outfit was a super snug custom maids uniform. The first time we
dressed him we found that it was heavily made and reinforced with concealed
webbing and straps. While looking very stark and starched, it would be impossible
to remove in a hurry, say, with handcuffs on.
That was Trisha's turn-on.
When she was strapped in, snug and cinched up, movement was restrictive in the
stiff fabric. Walking was slow and deliberate. Trisha helped to prepare food and
served food and drinks. She was not allowed to speak; she wore a ball gag. Her
high heels were strapped on. Everything that turned her on was built into her
restrictive costume.
She worked with energy and true humility. Trisha was not resentful of the harsh
treatment we often gave her such as paddling and extended chaining.
Each time she came back, she brought the maids uniform freshly laundered,
starched and carefully ironed. We talked a lot with her about her fantasies and
needs. She wanted to be trapped in the uniform and made to serve us when we
invited girlfriends over.
She wanted to serve our guests when we entertained but we were going to break
her in the hard way. We had more planned for our sissy-maid than she was expecting.
Pushing people to their limits is so much fun.
We had been waiting for the costume contest at the Lesbian Club in town. Men by
invitation only. Trisha's was a great costume and this was the chance for her to show
it off. It was going to be perfect. Except for one thing. Trisha didn't know that we
were going.
Trisha wanted a taste of humiliation and she was going to get it.
Cinched in the tough maids costume, high stiff collar, starched white apron,
frills, fishnets and high heels, we told Trisha that we were going out with her.
She agreed, thinking that it would be somewhere safe or maybe just a ride in the
car.
On went the hobble ankle straps, no running now. On went the harness gag. It held on the maids cap securely and made sure that there would
be no negotiating from Trish. Strong metal handcuffs behind her back padlocked
to the middle of her wide black leather belt. Leather cuffs on her elbows cinched
back tightly. The buttons wouldn't be popping, this costume was sturdy.
Trisha tried to walk, already difficult in the tight dress and high heels but now she
had a hobble too. Unable to speak, we blindfolded her and led her to the car.
What crafty devils we were, we already had costumes on. Kinky black full length
latex dresses. All we needed when we got to the costume contest were our masks.
If Trish wanted humiliation, that's what she was going to get. In the car we put a
collar and leash on our victim for added control.
At the Lesbian Club, due to "superior planning", we had organized a surprise party!
People just love surprises! Everyone was hushed and quiet, waiting for the
moment when the blindfold would come off. It was a great crowd. At least a dozen
dressed as dominatrixes. Maybe they could take charge of Trisha for a while.
We walked in slowly, talking all the time to cover any slight room noise. Trisha
hobbled along behind us being led by the collar. When we reached the bar, I tied
the leash firmly to the handrail. I turned Trish around so that when the blindfold
came off, the first thing that she would see would be the crowd all cheering.
Everyone was very quiet and patient, they had done this before!
The suspense was wonderful.
Off came the blindfold and up went a cheer from the crowded bar! The spotlight
was on Trisha. She looked as if she was going to fall over. She tottered, went to
hobble towards the door in a panic and realized that she was tethered to the bar!
There was no escape!
Trisha looked stunned, helpless, completely humiliated. She bent her knees as if
to hide. She looked around for us to help her and rush her out into the night. We
had melted into the crowd and were watching with our masks on.
A visible sweat broke out on Trisha's forehead as the crowd surged forward.
We stood back and watched. Our satisfying work was done. Would we ever see
Trish again after that night? Time would tell. Someone gave Trish a healthy loud swat
on the rump which broke the ice.
The music started back up. Off came the gag and helpful revelers tried to pour
drink down Trisha's throat.
Drink became her only refuge.
She went in stone cold sober and tried to hide in drink.
By the time we had to leave she was very comfortable.
The most popular girl in the bar.
Angela Browning
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