With all my senses occupied, I had no idea how long I was tied to the bed. Jen's recorded orgasm could have been anywhere from five minutes to half an hour long, for all I knew.
I didn't hear Lydia come in; I'd briefly worried that Jen might have forgotten the keys, and that I'd be trapped here until my roommate got back on Sunday, but sure enough, the music on the iPod stopped abruptly. The earphones were removed next, followed by the shorts. I could now make out Lydia's hair as she worked. The shoe was removed from my face, and for the first time in ages, I breathed fresh air. She slid the pantyhose off my head next, dragging them ever so slowly, the soft nylon caressing my face as she did so.
When she'd finally removed the hose, I could see her grinning at me. Lydia's blonde hair hung in a ponytail, and she wore dark plum lipstick that was sexy as hell on her lips. She was wearing a white blouse that showed off her curves, too.
She grinned. "I'm glad to see you're enjoying yourself," reaching down to lightly brush my stiff cock with her fingertips. I was so horny, I nearly came as soon as she did that, and Lydia must have caught that in my eyes, as she pulled her hand back quickly.
"Oh, poor sweetie. I guess I should be careful. Don't want to set you off too soon." She untied my hands from the bed, then quickly tied them together and attached them to my collar. She then untied my legs and had me stand. The horrible shoes were still on my feet, and between those and not being able to use my hands for balance, I nearly fell a few times.
Once I was standing, Lydia brought over my heavy briefcase, and had me sit down on it, straddling the top of the case. The pressure against the skin in front of my anus was a little annoying, but not terrible.
"Since you've been tied up all day," Lydia said with a knowing grin, "you probably missed this email." She pulled out her iPhone and called up an all-campus note from the university president, informing us that a fire in the registrar's office would cause classes to be delayed until Tuesday.
"In other words, Spring Break just got extended. So I've decided that we need to take a little trip. But before that," as she paused, she reached down to my crotch. I hadn't even noticed, but my cock had gone totally soft, and even as I marveled, she placed me back in the chastity belt.
"That part of your body is called the perineum, and pressure on it reduces hard-ons." Lydia was a bio major, but I suspected she'd learned that fact elsewhere.
"Now, before we travel, you need to clean yourself up." As she talked, she got out my shower caddy. She tossed in the cold cream and cotton balls to remove my makeup, and finally untied the stocking and removed the gag from my mouth. She then removed my boots and untied my hands.
"You should shower now."
"Um, Lydia. I mean Goddess -- " I'd caught myself, but not before she noticed.
"Goddess? Is that what Jen had you call her?" Her purple lips smiled. "No, I want my own title. And I'm not a goddess. I'm a human being who just happens to control you. That makes me your Mistress, but that word has too many ugly connotations. It makes me sound like I'm the other woman or something. So instead, call me 'Maitresse.' Words are so much sexier in French, don't you think?"
"Yes, Maitresse.
"Good boy." I felt a stirring in my groin as she said that. Much as I hated to admit it, praise from her really did make me happy. "Now, what were you going to ask me?"
"Um." The discussion about what to call her, as well as the fact that I was calling her the French word for Mistress, had thrown me. "Maitresse, if anyone sees me in the hallway, it'll be kind of hard to explain what's going on."
Lydia pursed her lips in thought. "Good point. Stand up." She had me put on my bathrobe -- which covered my collar, barely -- and my slippers. I normally would wear flip-flops to the shower, but these at least covered the toenails. She handed me the towel and the caddy. "I'll check the hallway for you. On your way back, you can carry the towel over your hands to hide your nails."
I couldn't argue with that plan (much as I wanted to), so with her assistance, I was able to make it to the showers unseen. It took me a good while to get everything off, but I managed to do so. Getting the makeup off took a while, and my face felt amazingly clean when I was done. When I finally finished, I took Lydia's advice and draped the towel over my hands as I left the bathroom. It was a smart move, as I passed a couple of folks I recognized in the hallway.
When I got to my room, I was not surprised to see that it was locked. Fortunately, no one was too nearby. As I knocked, I asked, "Maitresse, may I please come in?"
The door opened, and Lydia smiled at me as I entered.
"Now," she said, as she closed the door, "I've packed clothes for the weekend, and it's time to get you dressed." She quickly tied my hands together with the robe's belt. "Seem familiar, sweetie? Lydia grinned, remember how she first tied me, just over a week ago. As she talked, she guided me to the bed, laying me down and securing my hands to the headboard.
"Yes, Maitresse," I said.
Lydia frowned. "I actually meant that as a rhetorical question. But we should come up with a name for you, so you know when I actually want you to answer. What did Jen call you."
I started to answer, then caught myself. I wasn't sure if speaking or not speaking was the right thing to do.
She smiled, clearly catching my predicament. "It's okay. Tell me what she called you so I can see if it's suitable."
"She called me 'Anna,' Maitresse."
"Hmm. Not a bad name for when you're wearing female clothing, but I want something I can call you all the time. Of course," she grinned, sitting on the bed and whispering in my ear, "what's to say you won't be wearing female clothing all the time?"
Even as I simultaneously shuddered and shivered at the thought, she went on as if nothing had happened.
"No, I want one that I can call you in public without getting too many strange looks. But you'll always know what it means. So how about 'Pet?' I know a few British folks who use it as a regular nickname, so it won't be too strange. But we'll both know that I own you. Do you like that, Pet?"
"Yes, Maitresse." Saying anything else, I knew, would be a mistake.
"Good. And this weekend, I promise to make you earn that name." Even as she grinned, she slid something over my face. It was clearly another pair of worn panties, with her smell settling right over my nose. She positioned them to block my eyes, of course.
"Now, Pet, I'm going to give you a choice. Since we're going to be traveling, you can wear men's underwear and a dress, or women's underwear with jeans and a sweater. Which one do you prefer, Pet?"
I didn't hesitate, of course. "Women's underwear, Maitresse."
