Mister Mike - Chapter 23 Part 1 of 2

The Domination of Mister Mike

By Karen Singer

Chapter 23 Part 1 of 2

     It was Monday.  Usually Mondays were a relief because it meant I’d be back at work in the normal world again and away from Ashley…and Joanna I guess.  Or more like I’d be away from their dominating and humiliating rules.  But this time I drove to work like a madman, the clear plastic safe that kept my male shoes locked away from me was on the passenger seat of my car.  I glanced at it over and over again, watching the darn timer slowly ticking down, willing the darn thing to open.  But of course it didn’t.  Would it open?  It better! 

     Just a few minutes before I got to the bank, I heard a soft sound and looked over at the safe.  The timer had run out and it had unlocked.  Whew! 

     Bank employees are forced to park well away from the building.  I chose a spot with no other cars around.  As fast as I could, I got my shoes out of that safe, I removed my t-strap heels.  I pulled a pair of socks on my feet, covering up the pantyhose Joanna’s rules made me wear with my heels, and then slipped my men’s shoes on.  I “hid” my women’s shoes on the floor of the car, hoping nobody would notice them.  Feeling very much relieved, I finally got out of the car and went into work. 

     It was a big relief getting my normal shoes on.  As always, it was a big relief just getting into work.  I was once again back among the normal people of the world.  Back among the people who thought I was normal right alongside of them.  But oh how wrong they were.  I never knew how different I really was from everyone else until recently.  Yes, I had always known I was somewhat different, but it was only lately that I’ve learned just how truly different I was capable of being.  But the fantasy of being able to behave like everyone else, and having everyone else think I was like them, was truly wonderful.  Ahhh Monday…and Tuesday, and Wednesday…and the rest of the work week for that matter.  Of course the illusion was blown to hell every single night when I went home, but that was a different love/hate relationship.

     No surprise, Joanna texted me Monday morning.  Her primary concern was if that safe opened and if I had any problem getting my shoes.  I got the impression that she was almost as relieved as I was that it worked.  And then she moved on to another topic and wanted to know how much I loved just “hanging around” and doing nothing yesterday.  Of course I told her how much I had absolutely hated it.  She texted back that she knew better.  Yeah, that woman was starting to get to know me a little too well.  No doubt about it.

     Let me tell you something weird that I noticed that day.  I had been pretty much used to humping my bed every single day and every single night.  After so many years of doing it, not only was my body used to it, but my mind pretty much demanded it.  For the first few nights I was confined in that damn chastity thing, I laid in my bed, trying to make something happen, just so I could feel it.  Just so I could feel…anything!  Even if it was crushing pain.  But the totally weird part was that not much of anything happened down there at all.  I wanted to feel it.  I know my brain wanted to feel it.  But nothing happened.  Or at least not enough that I could really notice much.  With my penis locked inside that device, and that device pretty much locked inside of those super thick diapers, it’s pretty much hard to tell exactly what goes on down there. 

     But it wasn’t the boundaries of that device that was preventing anything from happening down there.  As far as I could tell, my penis simply wasn’t interested in growing at all.  Or as I said, not enough for me to truly feel how confining that device could be.  All I really felt from that device was the constant pressure where it was clamped around my genitals, holding them in a position that wasn’t what I was used to or comfortable with.

     But the bad part wasn’t really that.  The bad part was that Joanna’s texts forced me to remember and think about all too many humiliating things that my life was stuck with now.  And because of that, it was only then, while I was at work, that I suddenly started feeling the total confinement of that thing.  All of a sudden that thing felt way too tight – all over my genitals.  Even the ring holding the thing onto me felt tighter than usual.  Why did it have to happen then?  Why did it have to happen at work?  Why not at home, at night, in bed, when I really wanted to feel it?  And of course, once I did feel it at work, my mind spent way too much time dwelling on it.  Not to mention that the humiliation of it kept refueling my needs, causing it to happen over and over again at various times throughout the day.  What fun.  Not!  But actually, it was fun in a way too.  I simply found myself getting hornier and hornier as the day went on.

     Oh, and another little tidbit that miserable little chastity device managed to bring me.  It’s called going to the bathroom.  It’s one thing when you’re wearing that thing and you’re stuck in diapers.  You don’t need to worry about how you pee.  But at work, dressed in my normal clothes, there was a major problem.  The way that darn device was constructed, it locked my penis in a downward position.  And since tip of the tube was connected to the ring behind my balls, it pretty much locked my balls and my shaft tightly together.  Which means that I found it pretty much impossible to pull my penis out through the fly of my pants even after pulling my pantyhose and panties out of the way.  Like it or not, I was stuck going into one of the stalls to pee, and I soon figured out that peeing sitting down with that damn thing on was far easier than trying to do it standing up. 

     Ugh!  One thing after another.  One humiliation on top of another.  I, however, am absolutely not going to admit that I secretly found each and every little humiliation to be totally stimulating and fun.  I’ll never admit that in my life!  Instead, let it be known, here and now, loud and strong, just how much I absolutely hated every bit of it!  There!  Enough said!

     I got another text from Joanna that afternoon.  She told me to download a countdown timer that she had tried out, and then phone her as soon as I got to my car after work – before I put my heels on.  After playing for a few minutes with the app, I quickly figured out how handy it would be for helping me set that kitchen safe to lock my shoes up again.  And of course, just thinking about that forced me to feel the over-confining pressure from my chastity device.  I would be locking my shoes away – with my own hands!  Between that situation, and the frustration from my chastity device, I could have screamed!

     I made it a point that day to get gas in my car during my lunch hour, before I got back to the bank. That would be one errand where I wouldn’t have to wear my heels out in public like a fool.  I made a mental note to look at any other errands I could accomplish during lunch as well. 

     At the end of the day, I left the office amid a group of my coworkers and friends.  We said our casual goodbyes and each split up heading to our cars.  I got in my car, carefully keeping my feet away from my heels that took up much of the floor space on the driver’s side, and pulled out my cell phone.  Would Joanna answer right away?  She couldn’t if she was busy.  I’d have to wait for her to get back to me.  I selected her number from my contact list, and let the phone ring.  I waited, mentally counting the rings that I heard.  I was about to give up and try again in a few minutes, when she suddenly answered.

      “Hi Mike,” she said, sounding like she was a bit out of breath. 

      “Do I need to wait and call you back?” I asked, knowing how busy she often was.

      “No, it’s okay.  I just finished,” she replied. 

      “What do you need?” I asked, knowing that the time had come for me to find out why she wanted me to call.

      “I need you to put your phone on speaker so you can talk easier, then get out of your male shoes and get some heels on,” she replied.  Did I hear her giggle?  “Let me know as soon as you’re ready.”

     I set the phone on speaker, then put it on the console and glanced around.  There was nobody close enough that I had to worry about – I hoped.  I slipped my male shoes off, and fought my way around the steering wheel to buckle those darn T-strap shoes onto my feet.  I can’t tell you how tired I was of wearing them all the time.  Actually, I didn’t wear them all the time.  Sometimes I got to wear my four inch boots instead.  As I fought with the shoes, I listened to Joanna talking with someone else.   

     I was still working on my second shoe when Joanna’s voice got louder and asked,” How you coming Mike?”

      “Just finishing now,” I replied with a grunt as I buckled the second shoe.

      “Good,” I heard her say.  There was a slight pause, then I heard her voice say, “Mike, go ahead and open that countdown app I had you put on your phone earlier.”

     I finished with my shoe and picked my phone up again.  I pulled up the app.  “Okay, I’ve got it,” I told her.

      “I’ve got it up on my phone too,” she said.  “Now set the app for tomorrow morning at eight seventeen.”

      “Seventeen!” I exclaimed with more than a touch of horror in my voice.  “But I usually get here at eight fifteen.”

      “I know,” she said.  “And it takes you fifteen minutes to drive there.  This way, you don’t have time to put those shoes on at home and then drive to work.  You’ll have to wait till you get there to put them on.”

     I didn’t like this one bit.  I hadn’t cheated at all that morning, and now she was trying to make sure I didn’t cheat – ever!  But…what if I used the app to help me set the timer for like…eight ten instead of eight seventeen.  She would never know, and that would make me feel much safer. 

      “Okay Mike,” she said, “how much time, does your app say from now until eight seventeen?”

     Like it or not, I set the app for eight seventeen tomorrow morning.  “Fourteen hours, thirty seven minutes, and fifteen seconds,” I replied.

“Good,” she said.  “Exactly like mine.  “Are your shoes in the safe?”

“Not yet.  Wait a minute,” I told her.  I hated doing it, but with a nervous twitch inside my stomach I stuck my male shoes into that clear plastic safe.  “Okay,” I said as I put the lid on.

      “Good,” she said.  “I’ve got just under Fourteen hours and thirty seven minutes now.  So set the timer for what’s on your app and then take a picture and send it to me.  I’ll check to see if it’s close to what I have when I hear the click from your phone taking the picture.”

     Oh God!  She was going to listen for when I took the picture.  I had no choice but to set it for exactly what the app said.  Like it or not, which I absolutely didn’t, although that dumb part of me really did, I set the timer for the amount of time Joanna and the app had specified, and I pushed the button.  The safe locked, and my shoes were now history – until eight seventeen tomorrow morning – after I got to work.  I quickly took a picture and sent it to her. 

     A minute later she said.  “Okay.  Got your picture.  Looks great!  Have a good evening Mike.”

     Just that simply, she hung up on me.  I sat there and stared at my shoes inside that safe and out of my reach.  I wished like crazy that I hadn’t done it.  I also wished like crazy that I had never signed that agreement.  And further wished like crazy that I wasn’t locked up in that darn chastity device so I could get some much needed relief.  Because just then, I was all too turned on.  I’d just never in my life admit that to anyone.  It was with a heavy heart, a nervous stomach, and a way too tight and uncomfortable chastity device that I drove home.

     A short while later, I waked into the house to find Ashley hobbling around the Kitchen without her crutch.  “Hungry?” I asked.

     But instead of answering my question, she immediately asked, “What are you?”

     After the time I’d just had with Joanna on the phone, I came very close to letting out an all too obvious and audible sigh.  I stopped just in time and gave the reply I knew she wanted.  “I’m a big sissy and I want everyone to know it.”  I also knew she wanted the darn curtsey, so I gave her one of those too.

      “Why are you wearing women’s high heels?” she asked before I even finished with my curtsey.

      “Because your mother said I can’t wear anything but women’s shoes…”

      “No!” she stopped me suddenly.

     I was shocked.  “No?”  But now I noticed the big grin on her face.

      “I want the same answer you gave me to the first question.  That’s the real answer anyway, so get used to giving it.  Now why are you wearing high heels?”

     Ugh!  Double ugh!  Triple ugh!  “Because I’m a big sissy and I want everyone to know it.”  Curtsey!!!  Did I say ugh?

      “That’s right!” she said with more than a bit too much glee in her voice.  “That’s what you tell anyone who asks from now on…no matter who asks or where you are!”

     Yeah, sure!  Not likely…unless it was here in the house and with her friends or something.

      “Now why are you wearing heels?”

     Yeah, she was demented…not to mention cruel.  I gave my little speech and curtseyed again. 

      “Good!” she declared.  “Now go get changed.”

     Changed.  I knew exactly into what.  She didn’t even have to tell me.  My uniform.  One over-sized all too bulky diaper, one bra with my homemade breast forms, I chose to wear my black boots for a change instead of the heels I was already wearing, and of course, my new black maid’s dress with the white apron, very short poofy skirt, and the ability to be locked onto me that I hoped Ashley wouldn’t bother making use of. 

     For the rest of the evening, Ashley went out of her way to hit me with that odd question at the worst times imaginable.  And of course, the only reason she was doing it was so I could tell her what a big sissy I was, and then pretty much prove it by curtseying.  Ashley seemed to take great delight in seeing me do that.  I even had to do it several times while she filmed me.

     And then, after making me do it five times in a row, she asked a different question.  “Why are you wearing a great big diaper?”

     I had to stop and realize she had asked a different question.  And I immediately knew what answer she wanted.  Once again I had to say my same little speech about being a big sissy, and of course, curtsey.  For another fifteen minutes she had me doing that same little routine, over and over again, non-stop, asking why I was wearing women’s shoes, or asking why I was wearing a big diaper.  It didn’t matter the question, she only wanted one answer to both questions.  And of course, a curtsey to certify the statement.

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     Every night the previous week, I had been spanked before going to bed.  But this week I was no longer under any kind of punishment – except for the dumb situation I had signed my life away into.  And I guess because of that, instead of spanking me, Ashley decided on a different method of “fun” I should “enjoy.”  I had to stand at that humiliating board, with my hands bound behind my back, and suck on that damn pacifier attached to it for half an hour – before I could go to bed and drink the damn baby bottle she forced on me each evening.  Do you have any idea how long half an hour is when you’re standing with your nose flat up against something so you can’t see anything?  Especially when you have only your lips to try to hang onto that damn board with by sucking on nothing more than a baby nipple.  And especially when your feet are stuck in four inch high heels!  Somehow, it makes standing there feel like forever!  Forever and a day!  Or more.  You have no sense of time.  No sense of anything except how miserable you are. 

     Oh…there actually was one other thing around me that I was very aware of – Ashley taking pictures to send to her mother.  I could just barf with frustration.  I did the next best thing instead.  I peed my diaper.  There!  That should show her how I feel!  Take that Ashley!  Somehow, I don’t think she got the message as to how I felt about things.

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     And then Tuesday arrived.  Or maybe it was more like Tuesday collided.  To be honest, Tuesday stormed its way through, and I’m not talking about the weather at all – which coincidently was freezing rain all day.

     I didn’t drive to work like a madman Tuesday morning.  What would be the point?  That darn safe with my shoes locked up in it wouldn’t open until eight seventeen – two minutes after I usually got to work, or at least to the parking lot.  I got to the parking lot at my usual time, parked as far away from everything and everyone as I could, and sat and waited for almost five minutes before that darn safe finally finished its countdown and opened. 

     Such a relief!  It was even more of a relief to get my male shoes back on.  And total relief to walk into work, feeling completely normal like everyone else…if you didn’t count the pressure from my chastity device, or the panties I had to wear instead of men’s underwear, or even the darn pantyhose I was stuck in since I had to wear heels out of the house.  I was a normal male again.  Or at least it was a fantasy I could try to believe in, even though I knew the truth of the matter. 

     Joanna texted me early that morning to make sure I had no problems, then wished me a good day.  I did my best to put my too tight chastity device out of my mind and get to work.  Somehow, I actually managed to forget about all the strangeness in my life for a while.  Somehow, I actually managed to feel totally normal for a change.  That is, until my phone rang.  My personal cell phone. 

     It was mid-morning when I answered my phone.  I was only mildly surprised to see that it was Joanna calling.  “Hello?”

      “Mike?”  I immediately noticed that she sounded upset.

      “Joanna.  What’s wrong?”

      “I’m going to kill someone!” she replied rather vehemently.

      “What happened?”

      “Ashley!  That’s what!”

     Somehow, I wasn’t surprised.  “What’s she done now?”

      “It’s more like what she hasn’t done.”

      “And what’s that.”

      “Mike, I’m sorry to say this.  More so than you can imagine.  But I’m afraid our little agreement to have fun with you is over.  Done.  Finished.  The agreement is ended – as of right now!”

      “It’s done?”  Part of me was elated.  More of me already regretted that it was over.  “What happened?  Why?”

      “You know I can see into Ashley’s school account.”  I didn’t know that, but it made sense.  “Well, I saw the postings of her first week’s tests.  Mike, she completely failed her test in one subject, and in the anatomy course I have her retaking, she almost failed that test too.  And she’s already taken that course once before!”

     I was pretty much flabbergasted.  “She totally failed one test?  And almost failed the other?  What happened?  How can she do that?”

      “Trust me,” she replied, “I asked her the same question.  Our little conversation about it degenerated into one great big shouting match with each other.  Mike, she hasn’t studied one bit for either of those courses.  Not one bit.  And she claims she doesn’t have time!”

      “Doesn’t have time?  She’s got nothing but time!  She doesn’t go anywhere or do anything at all – except try to keep me miserable whenever I’m at home.  But to be honest with you, I’ve never once seen her even looking at one of the text books we got her.  Not once.  Not even when I go home at lunchtime every day.”

      “Of course you haven’t seen her studying.  She hasn’t touched those books.  I’d bet on it!” 

      “So you’re ending the agreement?”

      “I have to Mike.  I’m sorry.  But that was stated over and over again in the agreement I drew up.  And each of us initialed and signed it.  But believe me Mike, I’m so mad right now I could literally kill someone.  And you know who I’m talking about.”

      “Yeah.  I know.”

      “So Mike.  I just wanted to let you know.  It’s done.  Don’t lock up your shoes tonight.  Just go home like you usually do and forget everything.  Don’t do anything she tells you.  You’re free.  Totally.  It’s over Mike.  I’ll call you later after I’ve calmed down a bit to let you know what arrangements I can make to get Ashley out of there as soon as possible.  You won’t be burdened with her any longer than I can help.  Okay?”

      “Yeah.  Sure,” I said.  “That was the agreement.”

      “Yes!” she replied.  “And I’m sticking to it!”

     Ashley had messed up – big time.  She hadn’t bothered to study at all.  And I also noted she had argued with her mother about it.  She had doubly messed up.

     I felt very relieved.  I felt…disappointed.

     I went home at lunchtime to check on Ashley and make her something for lunch, like I did every day except Fridays.  I quickly noted that Ashley was angry about something.  No question as to what. 

      “What are you?” she practically yelled at me the moment I walked in through the door.  I knew what she wanted.  But I also knew that the agreement was over now – because of her.  “Blow it out your ass!” I replied.  “It’s over, and you know it!”

      “What are you?” she yelled even louder.

      “Upset at you!” I replied.

      “Why do you wear a big diaper?” she yelled.

      “I don’t anymore.  And I won’t ever again!” I told her.  “Now, do you want something for lunch or not?”

      “Tell me you’re a big sissy!” she yelled, hobbling her way toward me without her crutch.

      “Forget it Ashley.  It’s over!”

      “Curtsey for me!” she ordered as she got even closer.

      “Like I said Ashley, get lost!  Never again!”

     She hobbled angrily right up to me.  “Tell me you’re a big sissy!” she yelled at the top of her lungs while she punched my chest with her good hand.

     I backed up a step.  “You can get your own lunch.  I’m done.  I turned around and left.  I had planned on getting rid of the pantyhose I was wearing, but Ashley’s rage had me too angry to bother.  I stopped at a fast-food restaurant on the way back to work, went inside, and ate my lunch right there.  Trust me, it was far better than my lunch hours with Ashley every day.  Not as good as my lunches with my friends, but better than Ashley – by a mile!

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