A few months had passed since the wild Christmas party, which had found me bound, beaten, ass-fucked, and humiliated in front of more people from my past. I was busy washing Mistress Chantz's convertible in a skimpy white string bikini and matching heels, with my hands bound behind my back, which was obviously quite a sight for the neighbors. By now I was used to this sort of thing, and went about my business, kneeling on the hood of the car to scrub the windshield with my tits. I had just finished rinsing the car off, completely drenching myself in the process, when I was summoned inside by Mistress Brittany.
"You've been such a good slave lately, that I've decided to take you to a conference I'm attending in Florida," Mistress Brittany informed me. "I think a little time away will help me relax, and it will defiantly 'deepen' our bond, if you know what I mean," she chuckled. "Now go upstairs and clean up. I've already packed everything you need. We need to leave in an hour." With that I minced up the stairs, in the heels, with my hands still bound. I knew better than to ask for help.
As I got to the shower, I managed to undo the string in the middle of my back, and I caught one of the strings around my neck in my teeth, and managed to undo that one as well. I hooked the thong with my thumbs and managed to somehow wiggle past my hips and onto the floor. I emerged from the shower ten minutes later, still bound and in my heels.
Brittany was waiting for me in the bedroom, with my airplane attire in her hand. She undid the handcuffs, freeing my hands for the first time in hours. With that, I was handed a short, white spring dress, which was off the shoulder and had a plunging neckline that showed off some cleavage. It was very sexy, yet still respectable. As I put it on, I realized that it was cut to hold my tits up like a shelf, and the hemline fell only slightly below the curve of my ass. As usual, I was not given a bra, which meant my nipples would be on display. More alarmingly, I was not given any underwear or a locking butt plug or chastity belt; I was completely free under this dress.
This became a problem when Mistress Brittany re entered the room, wearing the exact same outfit. "Well slave, I would say we could pass as twins, except for that!" she said, pointing to the tent in the front of my dress. "I guess someone will have to learn to control herself," she added, as she snapped a white collar around my neck. I looked in the mirror and saw that the collar looked like a necklace. The relief must have registered on my face, as Mistress laughed, "We don't want to attract TOO much attention to ourselves," she said.
The ride to the airport was rather uneventful, and we soon found ourselves in a long line for security. As we approached the female security guard, Mistress brushed her hand against the front of my dress. She then, subtly reached down and caressed my little penis, bringing it instantly to attention. I was hoping it had escaped the eye of the guard, but it had not. "Excuse me ladies, can you step over here please?" Mistress and I were escorted behind a makeshift translucent screen.
I was horrified to see the contents of our bags emptied on a card table. Mistress's bag had contained nothing out of the ordinary, just several outfits and some personal items. Mine, on the other hand, contained several of my fantasy outfits, as Mistress calls them, along with their matching slut shoes, and several whips, nipple clamps, gags, handcuffs, and of course strapons.
"Why you horny little slut," Mistress Brittany chided me. "I had no idea."
"Ladies, if I can call you both that," the guard said, as she looked at my crotch, "I am going to need our little slut here to submit to a full exam", she said, snapping on a rubber glove.
