The Audition Pt. 03: The Position

This is a third chapter of my story 'The Audition' and is, like the previous two, inspired by lovely Scarlet, aka 'fortheloveofgloves'.

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You stand there nervously, eyes locked on the same door you've stood in front of twice before.

But this time is different. Those times you were desperate to obtain the offered position you'd stumbled across online one fateful evening.

This time you know it's already yours.

And yet somehow, that doesn't make you feel any less unsure of things. In fact, it makes you feel it even more. So many questions fill your mind. What if you mess up? What if you can't manage to live up to Mistress Scarlet's expectations?

Worst of all- what if you can't think of anything to write?

Before you have much time to worry any further about such things, the door opens, revealing Mistress Scarlet in all her glory.

Your red-haired Amazonian Goddess stands before you, her lips as red as her name and her body dressed in the finest leather. A black leather top, unbuttoned just enough to show off her magnificent cleavage. A black leather jacket on top of that, with a long black leather skirt just below it, with a pair of knee-high leather boots to complete the look. Almost.

For a moment or two, you are beyond speechless, but Mistress Scarlet simply smiles. "Right on time. Good. I like it when my slaves are punctual."

With a motion of her- sadly gloveless, hand, she leads you inside, shutting the door behind you and locking it. However, unlike your previous two visits, Mistress Scarlet does not immediately move any deeper into the house. Instead, she spins around on a heel, looks you up and down, then speaks two simple yet powerful words.

"Clothes off."

Almost instinctively, you begin to strip, any possibility of embarrassment you might've had at doing so in front of such a stunning woman as Mistress Scarlet long since vanished after your previous visits. Instead, it is replaced by a mix of intrigue, desire, and submission.

Within seconds, you are bare naked before her, and she nods her approval. "Leave your clothes here. You won't be needing them while you're working... Now, follow me to the study."

Silently, you do just that, tracing the very same route as the last time you were in her presence. Your eyes remain focused on your Mistress, only moving away once she leads you inside the study.

It appears much the same as it did the previous day, only this time there is not simply a desk and two chairs waiting for you, but a computer as well.

You take the seat in front of it and notice a word processor already open and waiting for you. But if you thought you were going to get straight to work, you have another thing coming.

Mistress Scarlet walks past you and removes something from a nearby shelf, then moves to the back of the chair. "Arms on the desk slave... And try not to move until I'm finished."

Unsure of what she's talking about, you do as she commands, and after a moment, you feel it.

Rope.

And plenty of it.

Slowly, Mistress Scarlet begins to wrap the rope around your legs, intricately tying them to those of the chair. Then she moves up your body, the rope gliding across your waist and chest and making sure your body is nearly completely restrained. Only your head, arms, and cock are left free, and with a gentle push, she moves the chair towards the table, making sure to leave just a little space between it and you.

"There we go... We wouldn't want you to get distracted, would we slave? After all, you have a lot of work to do."

"Yes Mistress Scarlet," you reply softly, the earlier worry returning in spades.

Gazing down at you, she notices your cock- already beginning to grow a little harder than it was when you stripped for her. "It looks like a part of you is more than ready to get to work..."

You get a little red in the face at her comment, but there's really no point in denying it. Simply being in her presence, hearing her lovely voice and incredible accent, let alone seeing her decked out in such luxurious leather... Of course you're already getting hard. Who wouldn't if they found themselves in the same position?

Even so, you know what is expected of you, and slowly move your gaze from her to the waiting computer, and you sigh as you wonder what to write.

Luckily for you, Mistress Scarlet is more than happy to provide a little inspiration.

"I'll leave you to your writing sweetheart, but before I go, perhaps this will get the wheels turning in your naughty little head."

Moving to the front of the desk, you watch as she removes a pair of short black leather driving gloves from the pocket of her jacket, and ever so slowly begins to pull them on.

The sight of her delicate fingers slipping inside the leather, watching it engulf her and turn from a simple accessory to a tool of seduction, domination and power... It's enough to make you cum there and then.

And she knows it.

"Now now slave, try to relax... After all, you aren't allowed to cum until I say so. Best get writing, and don't worry, I'll be back to check on you soon."

Then she blows you a kiss off her gloved hand and exits the study, shutting the door behind her and leaving you along with your thoughts, your erection, and the computer.

At first, you stare blankly at the screen, then type a few words before just as quickly erasing them. Your thoughts are a mix of Mistress Scarlet, her gloves, and all the things you wish she would do to you with them. Yet somehow, trying to put those to paper, to turn them into something tangible... It's easier said than done.

So you look around the study, hoping that something there will provide the spark you so desperately need so as not to disappoint her. And after a few passes, it does.

You almost miss it at first, but eventually, your eyes fall upon it. A spot on the carpet just in front of the desk. From where you're seated you can't get a good look at it, especially given your current predicament, but slowly but surely, you realize just what it is.

The chair you occupied during your interview was there. And the precum you'd dribbled out while Mistress Scarlet teased and interrogated you with her gloves is still there.

A stain, as well as a reminder,

Your mind quickly recalls every single detail of the previous afternoon, and soon enough your fingers begin to type almost of their own accord. You'd already written about your initial audition, so why not tell of what came next? The very thing that brought you here and granted you the position as Mistress Scarlet's personal writer slave.

The words flow through you as you enthuse about the sheer gloves she'd proudly shown off, the short black ones you'd only just been shown, and of course, the blue rubber dishwashing ones she'd used to seal your fate. And the more you type, the harder your cock grows.

Time passes in a veritable blur as you continue to recall your interview, so much so that you don't hear the door to the study open nor Mistress Scarlet enter until she's standing right beside the desk.

"My my," she begins, her sweet voice pulling you from the near-trance you'd put yourself into. "Seems like my little writer slave is on a roll."

"Yes Mistress Scarlet," you reply, gazing up from the screen and taking in the sight of her beauty once more.

She leans over to read, wrapping a leather-clad arm around your shoulder to both steady herself as well as to tease you, something made abundantly clear when her gloved hand comes towards your mouth, gently smothering it while its twin clicks away at the keyboard.

"Oh very nice," she continues, slipping a leather-gloved finger past your lips and into your happy mouth, the taste of it driving you mad even as your cock begins to leak precum. "I wondered if you'd write a little something about yesterday's interview..."

You groan, choosing to continue to taste her gloved finger rather than speak. The feeling of her leather, the scent of it wafting into your nose, you want to put it all into words right away, yet also want nothing more than to stay in this moment forever. Alas, such a thing is not in the cards.

Just as quickly as she offered it, Mistress Scarlet pulls her finger out and lets go of you, denying you any further contact with her glove or her leather. "I can see you're getting all worked up writing... We can't have that, can we?"

Looking up at her with wide eyes, you don't know what she's getting at but know what the only proper answer could be given the circumstances. "No Mistress Scarlet."

From out of her jacket pocket, she removes a smaller bit of rope, then leans down to wrap it around your already aching cock and balls. Her leather-clad hands work quickly, moving around your crotch with speed and skill, and soon enough, she has your manhood tied up just as tightly as the rest of your body.

You groan, but there's nothing you can do about it.

"That'll do nicely. Now, keep your naughty little mind on your work slave. If you do a good job, perhaps I'll allow you to cum."

Then she wraps a gloved hand around your tied-up shaft, gives it a teasing stroke, and walks away, leaving you aching but determined to keep writing. To please your Mistress.

Once you are alone, you return your attention to your work, now more driven than ever. You move beyond the events of the previous afternoon and begin to branch out to things you wish had occurred. Simply telling it like it was can only go so far, and these stories were meant to show others what submission to Mistress Scarlet would entail.

Slowly, you weave your fantasies- the thoughts which had overtaken you after your initial visit as well as the follow-up, with reality. Of how you wanted nothing more than to run your eager tongue over every inch of every single glove in Mistress Scarlet's vast collection. To worship them like the magnificent treasures that they were, and to treat them and her with the respect and devotion a Goddess like her deserved.

Your cock struggles against its restraints, aching and dribbling precum out and along the threads of the rope wrapped around it but you ignore it and keep on typing. Your thoughts move along from the leather gloves she slipped on right before your eyes to the rubber ones she'd so skilfully seduced you with. Those incredible blue dishwashing gloves, how they'd felt covering your face and how you wished nothing more than to feel them wrapped around your cock. Stroking, teasing, cleaning your naughty little dicklet.

The more you typed, the more your desire grew, and soon it became a self-fulfilling cycle. Thinking of Mistress Scarlet and her gloves, then writing about them, made you horny and desperate, and your desperation and horniness inspired even more naughty thoughts in your mind.

Word after word, line after line, page after page, you type with a seemingly endless fury, trying to put every single bit of your ever-growing lust and submission down, and yet it still doesn't feel like enough. Trying to describe Mistress Scarlet, her gloves, her control over you, it was like trying to describe the sun to someone who has lived their entire life in darkness.

And yet still you try.

Your focus is so strong on your task that once again, the opening of the study door barely registers, nor does the sound of heels clicking away on the floor. But this time Mistress Scarlet doesn't even bother acknowledging you. Instead, she places a gloved hand- a purple latex one much like the ones she showed off during your initial audition, on top of yours, and you immediately cease your typing.

"Good boy," she replies, moving the page up so she can read from where you'd stopped the last time. "So well trained already."

The feeling of the smooth, cool latex on your skin sends shivers from the tips of your fingers all the way up your arm and down your back before settling into your hand and restrained cock. You struggle, try to focus on something else, but the only thing your eyes notice is Mistress Scarlet.

Or rather her latest outfit.

Any trace of the leather-clad Goddess who had greeted you at the door is gone, replaced instead with, much to your shock and awe, your childhood animated crush made flesh. A sparkling red dress hugs her incredible figure, a pair of purple heels cover her feet, and the gloves...

Mistress Scarlet had warned you she had the dress... But seeing it now, seeing her like this... It's practically more than you can handle.

"Oh, I like what you've done here," she whispers, reading at a snail's pace and making sure there is nothing you can do but sit, stare and suffer. "Very nice work slave..."

You smile, but it is a strained one. Her praise only adds to the desire and submission you feel for her. You already want nothing more than to submit to Mistress Scarlet fully and completely, and she is making sure that you do.

Finally reaching the place you'd been working on, she slides her glove from your hand but brings it up to your chin so as to turn your face to hers. Her red hair covers half of her face, intentionally making her look even more like Jessica Rabbit, and you groan at the sight of her.

"I thought you could use a little more inspiration," she says, her red lips pursed together in a teasing smirk. "But it seems you have plenty as it is. Such a good little glove slut you are. Your mind so filled with thoughts of your Mistress and her gloves..."

Letting go of your face, she steps away and smiles. "Keep up the good work. I'll be back soon."

You watch her go, desperate to follow, to beg for the opportunity to kiss every inch of those gloves just as you wished you could when you'd first glimpsed Jessica Rabbit's own on screen as a child. But alas, you can't move. Can't do a thing except stare as she walks out of the study, then turn your attention back to your work.

Again, you begin to type, your glove-addled mind practically pouring its contents out through your fingers. That same desire plays out on the page before you as you write of how badly you wish to show your devotion to Mistress Scarlet. Weaving a tale of your own submission for the world to see.

And as you do, you find yourself writing things you never thought you would be able to tell a soul.

Almost as if a faucet had been opened, all your deepest, darkest fantasies begin to spring forth, and before you know it, your fingers have begun to expose your innermost desires to the page.

The times in your life when you would see friends, family, classmates, co-workers or complete strangers wearing gloves of any kind- from leather ones while out and about to rubber ones whilst cleaning dishes or scrubbing floors to medical ones while being treated at the doctors. The things you thought about them, what you wanted them to do to you and to do to them. The very building blocks of the glove fetish which had led you here in the first place.

Each and every one of them on full display, but now with Mistress Scarlet in the starring role.

The only place for a Goddess like her.

A veritable tapestry of tantalizing thoughts and fantasies takes shape as one story weaves into the next, and any embarrassment you may have felt putting all of that onto the page dissipates as quickly as it appeared. This is what you've always wanted, always dreamed of, yet never truly expected to come to any sort of fruition.

You are a slave for a dominant, glove-loving Goddess.

And that thought alone makes you even harder than you ever thought possible.

Even with the restraints holding you as well as your cock in place, precum has begun to spill out, dribbling its way along the ropes and onto the floor beneath your chair, but you don't care. It is a continued symbol of your submission, and you would leak buckets of it if Mistress Scarlet demanded it.

"Getting excited are we slave?"

Her voice pulls you from your reverie, and you gaze up from the keyboard over to the door to see Mistress Scarlet standing there.

She's changed her outfit once more, this time sporting an orange and golden bedazzled bra, a pair of black leather pants, and little else. She looks incredible, but it's what she's holding in her bare hands that truly gets all of your attention.

Gloves

A long, black leather one, and a blue rubber one.

"Let's see what you have," she continues, slipping the leather glove onto one hand, allowing the smooth, black material to perfectly engulf her arm nearly all the way to her shoulder, then sliding her other hand into the blue rubber and snapping the cuff, making you and your restrained cock jump.

Standing beside you, Mistress Scarlet once again lets her leather-clad arm wrap around your shoulder like a hungry serpent, not wasting a second as the palm and fingers cover your mouth and nose. "Ooh, very naughty," she says with a smile as she reads. "Is this all true slave?"

You nod, careful not to move her glove off your face. Every word is true- every single one a fantasy that has filled your mind ever since you first laid eyes on a woman wearing gloves.

"My my. I knew you were a little glove slut, but I didn't know just how much of one..."

She moves down the page, your eyes locked on her blue rubber-clad fingers pressing the keys as she keeps on reading. The scent of her leather fills your nostrils, and the sight of one glove and the sensation of the other is driving you wild.

Reaching the end, Mistress Scarlet squeezes your face gently then moves it towards her own as her red lips press together in a wicked smirk. "I'm going to untie your cock, but you are not to touch it... I want you to finish up this story while I give you a little extra inspiration."

Pulling the glove from your face momentarily, Mistress Scarlet deftly unties the knots of rope around your aching cock and balls, setting them free and allowing your pre-cum-covered erection to spring up towards her in absolute reverence.

Stifling a giggle, she returns her leather-gloved hand to your face, smothering your mouth and nose, then wraps her rubber-clad hand around your hard, slippery cock.

The dual sensations of two separate but equally tantalizing gloves on your body is almost too much to bear, but Mistress Scarlet gave you an order, and you must obey.

Your fingers return to the keys, typing away as if your life depended on it. And with the glove around your mouth and nose, it just might.

Mistress Scarlet's blue rubber glove begins to slowly stroke your erection up and down, and a groan slips out of you, muffled by her leather glove. "That's it," she whispers, continuing to smother you while gently edging your desperate, aching cock, your fingers furiously tapping away at the keyboard. "Keep typing for your Mistress. Get all those naughty thoughts out of your head so I can have more ways to tease and control you... My little writer slave."

Hearing her call you that while her rubber-clad hand strokes you ever faster, you feel about ready to explode, yet you need to finish typing the story first. It feels so good, the power she so easily exudes, and which she uses to effortlessly control you. And you make sure to include it on the page.

Your mouth and nose fill with the scent of her sweet, perfumed leather with every breath, your cock grows harder within the grip of her cool rubber, and your mind- whatever is left of it, echoes out with a single thought. One which your fingers quickly write as your body begins to give in completely.

"I am Mistress Scarlet's writer slave. And I have never been happier."

As you type that final word, you feel her rubber-gloved hand give you one last long, teasing stroke from your full balls to your precum-drenched tip before at long last she says the word you've been dying to hear.

"Cum."

You feel your body tense up, your cock practically melt in her gloved hand. And then you explode.

All the desire you've built up since the previous day's events comes to a head and pours out in thick, hot streams, splattering onto the floor and the underside of the desk, as well as the slick blue rubber glove happily stroking your cock for all that it's worth.