Get Dressed & Get Out

Preface: This story has been written in response to a video from Mistress Rousson. The video was not directed at me specifically but having downloaded it I found that I was unable to resist the command contained therein. The tale itself is a fantasy, but not pure fantasy. I have woven real experience with darker desires and I hope this has resulted in a readable story which isn't so 'out there' as to be laughably unreadable. I hope you all like it...

*****

My name is David. I suppose I'm what you might call a 'chap's chap'; a homosexual friend of a friend once described me as 'oozing testosterone'. To be honest, I'm not sure what he meant by that, but in any case I am very heterosexual. I play in the forwards of my local rugby team, I work in a uniformed organisation and I like driving too fast, after all, the only crime is getting caught.

If one works in a uniformed organisation for any length of time it's almost inevitable that you end up seeing the things that can keep you awake at night. Leave you staring into space in an impenetrable trance. Make you drink too much, sleep too little and fight spontaneously.

It was that last one that finally brought me to my bosses attention. Apparently pinning your line manager to the wall by his shirt collar isn't the way to conduct yourself in the modern workplace and I found myself sent swiftly to the doctor who wasted no time in recommending me to 'Charlotte'. Charlotte I soon discovered, is the psychotherapist. I'll never forget the first time I saw her. I'd gone to my first session feeling somewhat apprehensive, sitting in the waiting room wondering what was about to happen my mouth ran dry and my hands began sweating. My nerves were not helped by the yells of pure terror which were emanating from the office across the hall, a few minutes passed and then there was complete silence. A few more minutes passed, the office door opened and an absolutely enormous man stepped out. Not just tall, but powerfully built with it. His face was pale and he looked as shaken as anyone, road traffic incident victims included, I've ever seen. I don't think he even saw me as he walked out of the front door of the practice. I've often pondered since, exactly what may have been going on in that office but just then I didn't have the first clue what to think. The sound of high heels approaching snapped my attention back to the office doorway. A slightly small, slender and highly attractive woman stood there smiling at me.

"Hello." she said "You're David aren't you? I'm Charlotte, come on in."

You've heard of the fight or flight response? Truth of the matter is that there's actually a third option: Freeze. Seems daft doesn't it? Several thousand years of evolution and we've still only got three options for responding to a threat, at least one of which results in our imminent demise. But this day, all the same, I froze. Wide eyed, my nerves turned from apprehension to absolute paranoia. What the hell did this seemingly pleasant woman do to her patients? "Well come on!" Charlotte smile was pleasant and her tone friendly and, to be quite honest, I couldn't help noticing from the start that under any other circumstances, I'd have been trying to find a way to chat her up. I followed Charlotte into her office and shut the door behind me...

Several weeks and many sessions went by. It's not that I wasn't engaging with the therapy, far from it. I actually got on with Charlotte, not only was she highly attractive but she was a triathlete which gave us enough in common with my cycling background to begin talking about something very non-threatening and to get to know each other enough to begin working on other issues. Like why I had felt it necessary to redecorate the office with bits of my line manager. But despite the hours of talking, the frank admissions on my part of violence and drinking, an actual cure, for want of a better word, just wasn't forthcoming. Then one day, everything changed.

My drinking hadn't gotten worse exactly, it's just that to avoid the associated aggravation (read: violence) which seemed to come with it when I went out I had taken to staying in and drinking. Alone. All weekend. Charlotte pressed me on this.

"What else do you do with your time? Surely you can't drink for an entire weekend? You must do something else? What is it? Watching television?"

I blushed, looked at the floor then met her eye "I drink, sure, I watch tv, I masturbate...alot... and I play computer games."

As soon as I said it something changed, a cooling of the atmosphere, a distancing of the rapport which had been established. I was left confused, the more so when a few minutes later Charlotte ended the session and told me I could leave.

The following week, feeling profoundly unsure once again, and wondering how things would now develop I arrived at the practice. Not unusually the place was quiet, only the secretary at her desk and all the other doors open. This being a sign that no other sessions other than mine were in progress as the practice had a policy of only closing doors when sessions were in progress. I smiled at the receptionist, a pretty buxom brunette I had often flirted with before but who had, as yet, resisted my charms and not revealed so much as her name.

"How are you this week then?" I asked.

"I don't think so, this week, David." she said coldly "Charlotte will be with you in a moment."

Surprised by this blunt reply from this formerly friendly girl I paused, unable to comprehend the change in demeanour. A door behind me opened and the familiar staccato of Charlotte's high heels echoed across the reception I turned, a smile forming at my lips which faded when I saw Charlotte. She didn't even look at me but simply walked past and said curtly over her shoulder

"Come to my office."

More confused now I followed her, unable to resist noticing the curve of her buttocks under the tight fitting knee length grey woolen skirt she was wearing.

Charlotte's office was laid out differently this week. Her desk was in the centre of the room as usual but the two comfortable chairs which were usually at a 45 degree angle to each other in front of it were gone and a single four legged chair was in their place. Charlotte perched on her desk and pointed at the chair in front of her

"You can sit there" she said.

I sat, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. I gazed up at her wondering what was going to happen next.

"How often do you masturbate?" she asked.

I blushed immediately. "I'm sorry?" I said, unaccustomed to such a direct question so early in a therapy session. Charlotte sighed and tossed her hair back over her shoulder then looked at me again, coldly.

"Listen to me, David. We have a lot of new material to cover today, I do not have the time to indulge you any more. I said: how often do you masturbate? How many times a week?"

I blushed a deeper red and glanced at the floor, noticing for the first time Charlotte's patent leather high heels (How long has she been wearing those?) and the dark sheer of her tights. Charlotte filled the silence, a cruel smirk crossing her face

"Or perhaps it would be easier for you if you told me how many times a day you touch yourself? You know...save you the maths of working it all out."

I met her gaze at last, the confession being wrenched from me "At least twice a day."

"At least twice a day?" Charlotte repeated back to me "So that means you probably masturbate at least fifteen times a week, wouldn't you say?"

I nodded, unable to disagree as Charlotte continued, apparently having learned more about me than I thought I had let on in our sessions.

"So fifteen times a week at at least half an hour a time, and on some occasions probably longer." Charlotte glanced down at me, her contempt obvious "So you spend at least ten hours a week wanking."

Ashamed of myself I nodded miserably.

"Lilly!" Charlotte called (so that was the receptionist's name) "Would you come in here please."

The receptionist, who I now realised was part of...whatever this was...entered the office and perched on the desk next to Charlotte.

"Now Lilly, thank you for joining us" Charlotte was saying "Tell us, what would you think of a man who masturbates for ten hours a week?" Lilly, glanced at me and ran her eyes over me in apparent disdain.

"Ten hours, Charlotte? Gosh that's such a waste, a waste of a cock, a waste of time...a waste of a man!"

Happy that they agreed with one another Charlotte and Lilly then began a lengthy discussion, no, lecture. They explained that the root of my problems was that I was no longer in control of my cock. The rampant aggression, the constant masturbating all indicated self control had broken down and that that self control now had to be imposed upon me. I had been nodding as if in a trance but something about that last part made me 'click' back into life.

"Wait a minute" I said, "What do you mean 'imposed upon me?'"

Lilly giggled whilst Charlotte looked at me in irritation. "I've told you once already to be quiet! What I mean is this, you are no longer in control of your cock, so I am going to take that control for myself. You are to be placed in chastity."

I was stunned, but the truth was, deep down, I knew she was right, I had no defence. Suddenly aware of the two pairs of female eyes focussed upon me, when the sudden barked command came:

"Strip!"

I was so far out of my comfort zone that I meekly obeyed. It was only when I got to my boxer shorts that something else, my sense of shame, kicked in and I hesitated, tried to cover myself. Charlotte was having none of that. Stepping forward she grabbed the waistband of my shorts and yanked down exposing me to her. Her other hand grasped around my cock and pulled down.

"Sit down, boy." she commanded and gave me a shove back towards the chair. I sat, naked as the day I was born whilst Charlotte began fiddling with a strange c-shaped plastic device.

Distracted by the chastity device I hadn't notice Lilly slip behind me and I hadn't felt her approach until I felt her arm slip around my throat and her other arm across the back of my neck. Immediately recognising a choke-hold I grasped at her arm, tried to free myself but it was to no avail. Young and sweet she may look but she was certainly stronger than she looked at first glance. As my vision began to narrow and the first signs of passing out appeared she released the choke hold and it was then that I heard Charlotte's voice.

"Spread your legs David."

I paused, and almost immediately the choke hold went on again. This time I was at the point of passing out before Lilly relaxed and allowed me to breathe, and again, there was Charlotte's voice

"Spread your legs."

Reluctantly I spread them and felt the unfamiliar sensation of a chastity device being attached for the first time. I heard a click as a padlock was locked into place and then Lilly released me. I gasped for air and choked away my residual pain from the choke hold. I glanced down, A plastic covering now encased my cock from top to bottom. It wasn't painful, but it certainly felt unusual. I glanced up at Charlotte who showed me the key as she put it in her purse.

"As I said, David" she was saying "I control your cock now. Don't forget to clean your chastity device though. Goodbye" and with that she walked out leaving me naked, stunned and wondering what this meant for my life now. "Show him what happens if he becomes aroused." I heard Charlotte telling Lilly as she left. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the answer.

Soft gentle hands caressed my shoulders: Lilly. She walked around in front of me, looking down and smiling, the sweet, young secretary again. Gently she pushed my chest back so I leant back in the chair, exposed to her. Still smiling and holding my gaze she hitched her skirt up a little, straddled me and sat down. She put her arms around my neck and put her face close to mine.

"Concentrate, David' she breathed into my ear. "Am I wearing tights or stockings?"

After a moment I realised I could feel the lacy top of her stockings against my thighs and skin against skin. My eyes widened as I could feel blood rushing to my genitals. This initial rush of excitement soon turned to a grimace of pain as my cock pressed against the restraint of the chastity device. Lilly wasn't helping, grinding her hips just slightly and brushing my chest with her breasts it was the sweetest agony I'd ever experienced.

"I love doing this." Lilly moaned into my ear "...because there's nothing you can do about it...even if you want to. I'm safe from you."

Then suddenly, like Charlotte, she was gone, leaving only the called command hanging in the air after her

"Get dressed and get out."