The
Domination of Mister Mike
By Karen
Singer
Chapter
2 – Part 1 of 2
An entire week went by and I heard nothing at all about
it. Was I safe? It would be hard to believe. I could only hope. I had seen Chris one evening when I pulled my
trash can out to the curb. He had waved
like there was nothing new in the world at all.
So I waved back. I rarely saw
Ashley, even on her days off. And on the
days she worked, she worked twelve hour shifts and didn’t usually get home
until late at night. That week, I had
seen her getting into her car once, and she had barely looked at me before she
drove off.
So was I safe? I
could only pray.
Another week went by and I was feeling even better about the
world. Not better enough to try that
little exercise again! I had learned
that lesson – the hard way! I had simply
been…lucky.
Friday evening came and I left my desk at the bank with only
one thought in mind – going home and playing.
Which meant getting all my sexy things out and putting on whatever I
felt would turn me on the most. That
evening it turned out to be two layers of disposable diapers (two, because I
loved the feeling of the extra bulk), nude control top pantyhose, a “C” cup bra
with some homemade breast forms I had made using pantyhose and birdseed, a
short black skirt, my white peasant top with the beautiful colorful stitched
design, and a pair of black five-inch T-strap high heels.
Thank God I didn’t get time to add makeup or heaven forbid –
my shoe-locks! I had just gotten out my
meager makeup supply when I heard my doorbell ring. Just the kind of thing I lived in terror of
every time I got dressed up. For one
brief moment I actually considered answering the door just as I was. Thank God I didn’t! As fast as I could, I unbuckled my shoes and
got them off. I was working on my skirt
when the doorbell rang again. I finally
stepped out of my skirt, pulled my blouse off, and I ripped the inserts out of
my bra.
The doorbell sounded a third time. Someone was being awfully insistent! I threw my socks on to cover my pantyhose and
I put my pants on. Whoever it was
started knocking instead. I slipped a
sweatshirt on, praying it would hide the bra that was still underneath.
Again whoever it was knocked on the door. “Coming!” I called as I literally ran for the
door. I opened it and found Ashly on my
doorstep. And she appeared to be in a
state. “Ashley!”
“What the hell took you so long,” she yelled, then she broke
down crying and pushed her way past me.
I closed the door and went after her.
“Ashley? What’s wrong?”
“Dick-head! That’s
what!” she said as she broke down in one of my chairs and started crying. “The bastard said if I couldn’t do more to
help with the expenses, then he wanted me out of there.”
“He threw you out?”
“I left! I don’t want
anything more to do with him. He’s
a…dick-head!”
I quickly realized that her pet name of the day for Chris
had to be dick-head. How had she lasted
so long with him? “What do you mean you
left?” I asked.
“I walked out, and I told him I wasn’t coming back!”
“You’re not going back?
How about all your things and stuff?”
She seemed to think about that. “Oh.
I’ll have to get it all later.
But I’m not going back!”
Uh-huh. Drama, drama,
drama. “I’m surprised you two lasted
this long together,” I told her. “I hear
you two arguing all the time.”
“See!” she said.
“Even you agree that I shouldn’t be with him anymore.”
“So why are you?”
“Because…and then she broke down again. “I thought he loved me.”
Her crying intensified and I ran and got her a box of
tissues. “So what are you going to do
now?” I asked.
“Move out!” she said as her crying abated somewhat.
“Any idea where?”
“No. I’ll find
someplace.”
I didn’t want to bring up how expensive moving could be. She
was young. She was going to have to
learn these things. “So what are you
going to do tonight?” I asked.
She looked at me for a moment before answering. “I don’t know.” Then her whole expression changed. “Can I stay here tonight? Please?”
“Uh…I don’t know,” I said, already thinking about the things
I had just taken off…not to mention the things I was still wearing.
“Please…” she pleaded.
“Just for tonight. Then when I go
to work tomorrow I’ll see if one of my friends there can help me.”
“Uh…” And then there
was another pounding on my front door. I
felt like I had been saved from having to answer her question. I hurried to the door. No surprise, Chris was there and he looked
pretty damn mad.
“Is Ashley here?” he asked, all too angrily.
“Um…yeah. She’s
inside.”
He started to push past me, but I stopped him. “No!” I told him. “You stay out here. You’ve got her pretty damn upset right now
and I’m not going to have one of your screaming matches in my house.”
“Ashley! Get out
here!” he demanded, yelling over my shoulder.
“Don’t make me come in there after you!”
“No!” Ashley screamed in the background. “Go to hell!”
“Ashley!”
“Chris!” I said, sticking my arm out as he tried once again
to push past me. “Get hold of
yourself. I’m sure this is all nothing
but another tiff between you two that you’ll work out eventually. But right now she’s really upset and she
needs a little bit of time.”
“She needs
time! She needs to get her ass
home! She’s a lazy good for nothing
bitch! And she doesn’t care one bit for
anything but herself and what she wants!”
I could have pointed out that the same description could be
applied all too easily to him. I didn’t
though. “Just give her time. Let her sit here a while and calm down.”
“Bull!” he said as he started to push past me again. I quickly pushed him back. “This is my house!” I told him, “and you’re
not coming in! Now get out!”
“Bullshit!” he exclaimed, clearly more angry than before.
This time I was more ready for him and I used two hands to
keep him outside when he tried to get in.
“Stay out!” I ordered. “You’re
not coming in!”
Fortunately, he didn’t try to fight with me any
further. He was bigger and younger than
I was. Stronger too. It was only the fact that I was older and it
was my house that kept him from getting past me. “Now go home and leave Ashley alone,” I told
him. “Let her calm down. I’m sure she’ll be back when she’s ready.”
He glared angrily at me, then left. I breathed a sigh of relief as I closed the
door behind me. I turned, and Ashley ran
up and hugged me. “Thanks,” she said as
she cried into my sweatshirt.
“No problem,” I replied, even though I was all too aware of
the bra my sweatshirt was hiding and was praying that somehow she wouldn’t feel
it. She finally let go of me and turned
back to the living room – without mentioning feeling the bra. Whew!
“Can I use your bathroom?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said. “You
know where it is.” She and Chris had
been over to the house a number of times for different reasons. Friendly reasons. Mostly because they were young and needed
help or advice. As if I knew all the
answers. I really wish I did. But in truth, I was probably only about ten
years or so older than they were, and I considered my life to be anything but
normal. Because of my “hobbies,” I
continually lived in fear of them suddenly coming to the door. Fortunately, more often than not, they called
before they came.
While she was in the bathroom, I ran to my bedroom to hide
everything else that was still out. I
just barely got it all thrown into the floor of my closet and closed the door
when I heard her come out of the bathroom again. I walked back to the living room wishing I’d
had time to get my damn bra off too.
“Feel better?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Yeah. Damn what a bastard. I hate him!”
“He seemed a little upset while he was at the door.”
“He’s always like that,” she told me. “Or worse!”
Yeah, I still had to wonder why she hadn’t left him
already. I knew that relationships were
a two way street. Somehow, I had a
feeling that she wasn’t exactly a picnic to live with either.
“So where’s your guest room?” she asked.
“My guest room?”
“You said I could stay.
Remember?”
I remembered not
telling her she could stay the night yet, but somehow that decision seemed to
have been already made for me. “Uh…right
back this way.”
I led her up the hallway to the furthest bedroom. The doorway was directly across from the
master bedroom. The first bedroom on
that side, closest to the living room, held my desk and computer. I had always used it for my office. The bathroom was next, then my guestroom. The guestroom had a small twin size bed in it
that had never actually been used by anyone.
The room had also become my junk room for whatever I didn’t know what to
do with. Consequently, it was a jumbled
mess.
“This will be great,” she said as she looked around.
I started pulling boxes and junk off the bed and piling it
elsewhere in the room so she’d be able to sleep.
“So, you like high heels and bras?” she said.
I nearly dropped the heavy box I had just picked up from the
bed. I set it down and didn’t
answer. “The bed’s already made,” I told
her. “Is there anything else you’re
going to need tonight?” I asked, trying to ignore what she had just said.
“So were you wearing those boots you had on at Arby’s, when
I knocked on your door a little while ago?”
“Um…no,” I replied nervously. I walked out of the room, hoping to avoid any
more questions.
“So what were you wearing?” she asked as she followed me
back up the hallway.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I know you’re wearing a bra. I couldn’t miss it under your sweatshirt when
I hugged you. And it took you so long to
answer the door that I just figured you were probably wearing other things
too. So what?”
“So what…what?”
“So what were you wearing?”
“Who says I was wearing anything else?”
“Me! I felt the bra you’re
wearing under that sweatshirt, so what else am I supposed to think?”
“Look,” I said. “Just
forget it. Okay? Make yourself comfortable and watch TV.” I headed for my bedroom to get away from
her…and her questions. I got to my
bedroom and closed the door. The first
thing I had to do was to get rid of the bra and diapers I still had on.
3 comments:
Big smile.. See the fun coming..l
Hugs
caroline
This can be very interesting to follow!
Really like those shoes. They look exactly like the first pair of heels I ever bought, right after I moved into my first apartment. Saw an ad in the Chicago Tribune for a store called O’Connor and Goldberg. $19.99. It seems so funny now, I cut out the ad, wrote a short note concerning my size, with my mailing address, (no first name, initial only) wrote out a check, and mailed it to their store downtown on State Street. Then waited. And they sent them! The next week I saw an ad for another downtown store, for Lycra panties. Packaged in twos. Did the same thing as I had with the shoes. Voila!!! Two pair of black panties and a pair of black heels! I was on my way!
Nowadays, all I have to do is sign into my account and tap. Much easier, but not nearly such a thrill.
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