Drew was already on his knees when he heard the bathroom door open.
The bedroom was dim--just a soft light glowing from the corner lamp, casting long shadows across the floor. His body was tense, but still. Naked. Hands resting on his thighs, palms up. Eyes down.
His cock had already begun to harden just from the act of waiting.
But when he heard the first soft creak of latex--faint, sticky, deliberate--his breath caught.
And then he looked up.
There she was.
Faye stepped out of the bathroom like a vision. No longer exploring, no longer uncertain--commanding. The woman he had knelt for that first night was powerful, yes. But this... this was different.
She was sure of herself now. She moved like she had nothing to prove.
And everything to take.
Drew's heart thudded hard in his chest.
He scanned her quickly--first with hunger, then with awe.
There was the familiar black gleam of latex clinging to her arms and legs--gloves and stockings, just like before. The way they caught the light, hugging her limbs like they were sculpted just for her, made his cock throb instantly.
But then his eyes flicked upward, and he realized something was missing.
The dress.
That stunning, sculpted black latex dress--the one that had nearly broken him the first time--wasn't there.
For the briefest second, he felt it. A tiny flicker of disappointment, like a missed note in a perfect song.
But it vanished just as fast.
Because what was there made his breath stop entirely.
She wore a black lace bra, delicate and dark, the cups sheer enough to tease, but firm enough to lift her breasts like an offering. Her matching panties were cut high, barely covering anything, resting just above the gleaming edge of her stockings.
It wasn't the latex dress. It didn't need to be.
It was her.
And the way she moved--the gentle peel of latex against the hardwood floor with each step, slow and purposeful--made it almost worse. More intimate. More real.
Drew felt his cock spring to full attention, aching, proud, already twitching with anticipation. He lowered his gaze back down to the floor instinctively, heat crawling across his skin.
The soft sounds of her steps grew closer--each one a slow, wet whisper of latex pulling free from wood.
By the time she reached him, he could barely breathe.
And yet--he didn't speak.
He waited.
Because tonight, she wasn't asking.
She was owning.
Faye paused in the doorway, just for a moment.
He was exactly where she'd told him to be.
Naked. Kneeling. Obedient.
His back was straight, shoulders slightly tense, fingers resting perfectly on his thighs. His head bowed, but his eyes up and glued on her like a man seeing an oasis in the middle of the desert after days without a single drop ff water. And there--she could see it. The way his cock stood hard and flushed, desperate already, without a single touch.
God.
A wave of heat rolled through her. Not just arousal--power. Control that buzzed beneath her skin, coiling in her stomach, pulsing low between her thighs. This was no longer just a fantasy they were trying on. This was real.
He belonged to her.
And he knew it.
Her stockinged foot peeled softly from the floor as she stepped forward. Another step. Then another. Deliberate. Slow.
She watched him twitch slightly as she neared. Beyond the godly picture she was representing, he was feeling something more, her presence, her aura, her ever growing power.
She let the silence stretch a little longer. Just to feel the weight of it.
Then, finally, her voice--low, velvety, calm.
"Disappointed you didn't see the dress again?"
Drew tensed visibly, as if caught in a thought he hadn't dared admit.
Faye smiled.
"I know you were hoping for it," she continued, circling around him slowly now. "The shine. The tightness. The way it hugged my ass while you knelt and couldn't touch."
She stopped behind him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her body just out of reach.
"But I needed to move tonight," she said softly. "Your punishment requires a little more... flexibility."
Her gloved fingers ghosted across his shoulder, barely a touch.
"That doesn't mean I forgot what you like."
She stepped in front of him now, her body close enough that he could smell the faint scent of latex and her skin, warm and clean beneath.
Her voice dropped just slightly.
"In fact," she said, "if I'm going to keep dressing for your desperation, I'll need options. Lots of options."
Drew looked up slowly, eyes wide, lips parted.
Faye's smile deepened.
"Bras. Panties. Stockings. Gloves. Catsuits. Corsets. Dresses so tight you'll cry. You're going to buy it all for me."
His throat bobbed with a hard swallow.
"Because I want to be able to dress however I please before I ruin you."
She leaned forward, her fingers sliding under his chin, tilting his head up to hers.
"I expect you to give me the tools to drive you mad."
His breath shuddered out of him.
"Yes, Faye," he whispered.
Her brows lifted slightly.
He corrected himself instantly.
"Yes, Mistress."
She kissed his forehead, her tone still soft but threaded now with steel.
"Good boy."
She watched his face for another few seconds--how flushed he was, how wide his eyes had become. The way his breath shivered across his lips, barely controlled. His cock, red and full and twitching slightly, pointed up toward her like a helpless offering.
Faye let her gaze linger there for a beat. Then she exhaled, slow and deliberate.
"That," she said calmly, "is very flattering."
Drew didn't move.
"But unfortunately," she continued, "you don't get to stay like that."
His eyes flicked up toward her again, confused.
"As part of your punishment," she said, circling him once more, "and more importantly because I want to, we're going to take care of that little problem."
She stopped just behind him, and her gloved hand came down gently on his shoulder.
"You're going back in the cage."
He gasped softly--but didn't argue.
"Only for the weekend," she added, her tone almost thoughtful. "Until Sunday night. You don't have to be in the office. No meetings. No risk. Just me... reminding you who owns your pleasure."
Her fingers slipped down the nape of his neck, then back to the base of his spine.
"And if you're good," she whispered, "you'll get your reward on Sunday."
She stepped in front of him again and looked down.
"But first," she said with a small smile, "we need to make sure your cock is... manageable."
Drew's breath hitched.
"Crawl," she said, pointing toward the bathroom. "On all fours. Now."
He moved instantly, obediently, hands and knees on the hardwood, his arousal swinging visibly beneath him with every movement. Faye followed behind slowly, latex whispering with every step.
The bathroom lights were bright against the tile. Faye turned on the shower, adjusting the handle until the water ran cold--truly cold.
Then she stepped aside.
"Get in."
Drew hesitated, but only for a second. Then he climbed into the tub, shivering slightly at the temperature.
She reached in with her gloved hand and guided the spray, holding it steady on his cock.
He hissed, flinched--but didn't move away.
"Let it go," she said softly. "Let the heat drain out."
She watched the way his body tried to resist--twitching, fighting--but eventually, it obeyed. His cock softened under the icy stream, twitching once before fully retreating.
Faye cut the water.
"Stay there."
She dried her hands briefly, then walked to the cabinet and retrieved the cage. Small. Black. Familiar.
When she returned, he was still standing in the tub, dripping, quiet.
"Come here," she said, holding the device in one gloved hand, the ring in the other. "Let me lock you."
He stepped out onto the bath mat, still slightly shivering, and stood still as she knelt gracefully and began to assemble the device. Her movements were calm, practiced now.
"Two days," she reminded him, fitting the ring behind his balls, sliding the shaft into the cage. "And not a second less."
He moaned quietly as the lock clicked into place--that sound again. Final. Intimate. A promise.
She stood and looked at him. Smiled.
"Good boy."
Then she turned sharply.
"Now back to the bedroom. Crawl. Kneel. Wait."
And without another word, he walked ahead, leaving her behind him--his Mistress, his keeper, his punishment yet to come.
Drew heard her footsteps before he saw her. That slow, steady peel of latex against the hardwood.
He was already kneeling at the foot of the bed, exactly where she'd told him to wait--naked, caged, obedient.
The cage was tight now. Unforgiving. Cold from the water, but somehow burning with frustration. His cock throbbed inside it, helpless and red, straining against every unforgiving edge. He was so hard it hurt. And he couldn't do a damn thing about it.
When she entered, he didn't dare look up.
But he felt her presence--looming, elegant, wrapped in latex and lace.
"Up," she said simply. "On the bed. Over my lap."
He obeyed instantly.
The sheets were cool beneath his knees as he climbed up and laid himself across her thighs. Her lap was warm, her latex stockings slick beneath his bare skin. His cock pressed awkwardly against his cage, trapped between his legs and the mattress, while his ass was exposed--vulnerable, waiting.
