Wake the next day

A bright light awakens you to a splitting headache. You are disoriented, realizing slowly four things. The first, it was clearly the next morning. Second, you were back at your apartment, in your own bed. Third, you realized you were fully dressed in an extremely frilly feminine baby blue pastel outfit, with tight white tights and gloves, a frilly collar and wrist restraints all with tiny bells, Mary Jane heels, and jingling cat ears in a big blonde wig. Finally, you realized what ever happened, you must have gotten dressed in this nod been out in public to have arrived home like this. You blush massively, trying to take all this off, but realizing it’s all padlocked on. You scramble for your phone to call Nate, finally finding it only to see a stream of pic texted to you.

Each picture was worse than the last. The first looked like you willingly putting on the pieces of the outfit, posing as you did. Next were pictures of you on your knees, hands behind your head as the person holding the camera has their dick out, with each subsequent photo showing you blowing said dick then it cumming in your eager mouth. This was horrid... and yet you felt massively aroused. You could tell you were getting hard, but something was painfully stopping it. You reached under your puffy skirt to feel something small and hard locked around your cock. You whimpered, frustrated, when your phone rang.