Getting presentable

I heard the unmistakable sounds of Casey's climax drift into the main room. Jack looked pleased. Then he opened a bag he had brought with him and produced a bunch of clothes. Without any hesitation about my compliance, he told me to put them on as he offered them to me one by one.

The lemon yellow T-shirt wasn't just too small, it was so several sizes. It stretched mercilessly across my chest, and grabbed my tits in the tight fabric, almost making them burst out of it. I realised the sluttery of it, and it made my nipples stand to attention. The thin fabric of the T-shirt didn't hide that fact from even the most casual observer. It didn't fully reach to my navel, and my underbelly was bare.

The suspender belt he offered me next was lacy and bright orange. It spanned my hips, and the suspender coming down from it reached to black fishnet stockings which only started halfway my thighs with yet another edge of elaborate lace.

If I had hoped to receive any sort of panties, I would have been disappointed; but to be honest, I caught the drift by now.

I took the next item of clothing from his hands. It was bright pink and the same elastic fabric as the T-shirt. To call it a mini skirt was a gross exaggeration; it was a miniscule dress. When I put it on, it didn't even reach to the crack between my butt and my thighs. It was also very small, and it had the irresisible urge to creep up even further. I had to pull it down every minute or so to avoid walking around with a completely bare ass. There were several inches of naked skin before the stockings started, spanned by the suspenders running along my thighs.

My outfit was completed by a pair of stiletto heels, which made me about eight inches taller. I had never walked around on shoes like this before, and it made me wobble when I tried to stand up. There was a tiny leather trap on top of them, which circled my ankles and closed with a buckle. I had a nauseatic feeling when he reached down and closed a padlock on each of them, and nonchalantly pocketed the key. There was no way I could take them off without that key.

If I had expected to be complete then, I wasn't. He produced a make up set, and told me to use it. When I tried to make subtle accents and linings, he immediately corrected me: he really wanted me to paint my face. Soon my lips were deep purple, my cheeks bright red, and my eyes sunken in black eyeliner and mascara.

He allowed me a look in the mirror at that point. I was completely indistinguishable from the first corner hooker under the bridge. A Christmas tree of blaring colors, screaming for attention of anyone looking at me.

Still he hadn't completely finished then. He just told me: "You are tremendously aroused by exhibiting your femininity like this." Immediately the wave of heat in my pussy swelled up. But even that wasn't enough for him: "You always get extremely wet when you're horny."

There was no defense against that. When my juice started to flood my pussy, there was no familiar panties texile to absorb it even just a little bit. I could feel the juice forming into drops, and the sheer weight of the drops making them run down the inside of my thighs.

He looked pleased when he looked at me. A rush of panic raced through my body when he said: "That's just perfect. Now, lets go out."

I still heard the sound of Casey moaning herself through another orgasm in my bed, when Jack pulled the door closed behind us. I was wobbling on the stilettoes when he walked me to his car.