Today - Sunday, 3:24 PM

Today - Sunday, 3:24 PM (Central Standard Time)

It took Mark a couple of moments to awkwardly clamber back to his feet. Even without the hand holding him down, the tight corset and awkward heels made regaining his footing a tricky prospect. His legs did not seem to work right after the mind-blowing orgasm. The whole world was spinning around him, both from the lack of oxygen and the incredibly intense release he had just experienced.

Tricia had already moved back around to her chair, wiping her hand on the towel from the serving tray. She stared at him with a thoughtful expression.

"Did you like that, Lacy?"

"That was amazing!" he panted. His real voice felt out of place coming from the body squeezed into the sexy outfit. The whole maid ensemble was now far more uncomfortable than it was sexy.

"You were so intense it was almost scary."

"Almost?" she smiled, her eyebrows a question.

"Fine. You were terrifying! All that business with the key around your neck and the spanking. It was definitely exciting. I'm not sure I'd want to do it again, but it was a great act."

"Who's acting?" The grin was gone from her face. Mark felt his own smile locked stupidly onto his face. He could not change his expression anymore than he could change the outfit that was locked around him.

"What do you mean?" He shifted in the painful boots. There was no way to stand in them that did not cause his toes to burn. The sexiness of the constriction, so stimulating only seconds ago, was now agony.

"I mean...you promised me a picture..."

He gaped at her even as the doorbell chimed again.

"Here! You're leaking." She tossed him the hand towel. "Clean yourself up while I see who's at the door."

"But..."

"Or would YOU rather answer it, Lacy?"

His eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets.

Be seen in THIS outfit. Dripping with cum, like a slut? Was she fucking insane? This Lacy nonsense wasn't sexy anymore. Didn't she understand that?

With the arousal gone, so was the fantasy. Now it was just embarrassing and painful. He felt the cum oozing down his thigh and he thrust the towel down between his legs, trying to get up under the infernal petticoats. There was an embarrassing femininity, having to clean between his legs this way.

"Tricia... please... can we just..."

She was already out the door and heading down the hall. Mark growled in his throat. She had officially gone too far with this.

His eye caught the giant mirror across from him. The maid, cleaning herself up after having been used for sex. The girl in the mirror was undeniably sexy. Her cheeks were flushed with heat, her eyes wide and still very dilated. And her body...

...that can not be me...

...the body was crammed into that fetish outfit and oozing sex.

Mark wanted none of it. The desire was gone even as the sexy image remained.

"Damnit," he muttered, shifting from foot to painful foot. His ass was throbbing from the spanking. His ribs ached from the corset. The petticoats, previously so erotic, now itched his bare thighs. Worst of all was the damp, clammy panties clinging to his crotch atop the compressed tightness of the gaff. It kept his balls inside of him and his cock firmly tiny and trapped.

He could not relieve much of the discomfort, not with his damnable wife keeping both the keys. He could solve the gaff problem, however. He carefully pulled the lacy panties and the gaff thong down together, sighing in relief as his equipment slid back down into place. He shimmied the tight panties and gaff down his legs and then stepped out of them, leaving them pooled in a gooey pile behind the sofa.

Carefully, he rubbed his shrunken equipment with the hand-towel, removing the coating of slime his entire groin had produced. Frustrated, he threw down the towel on top of the gaff and panties.

How dare she leave him like this... trapped in this ridiculous outfit. There was no way she was forcing him to take a stupid picture... he was going to put a stop to that right this instant... Just as soon as...

"You have a very lovely home, Miss Sellers."

Mark threw up a little in his mouth. He swallowed hard to keep from losing his entire stomach. The deep, masculine voice was inside the house. It was coming from the hallway, right outside the door.

Mark frantically looked for somewhere to hide, even as the door swung open.

"Lacy, be a dear and fetch our guest that glass of wine you poured."

Mark's world swam around him as the tall stranger entered the room behind Miss Sellers.