By then you will be in nothing but a black lace thong. I will enjoy taking your last masculine clothes – the clothes you are wearing – and locking them in the hotel safe. So you can’t even get to them.
Good morning my corporate slut,
Insatiable cruel desire.
It’s nothing a little ‘sin city’ couldn’t fix, right?
There was a special, sadistic sense of glee when I looked at your travel calendar and saw that you had a ‘business trip’ coming up in Las Vegas. I know that when you think of Las Vegas you think of sales dinners, strip clubs, entertaining clients, and all the things that businessmen associate with the city of sin.
Of course, my thinking is totally different.
For example, what would happen if you found me waiting in your hotel suite upon arrival – with your suitcase absolutely hijacked (oh, I would send it down with the bellman – probably a bellman I fucked, but that’s a story for another time). Nothing there but me.
And my toy bag.
**
The thing about “sin city” is that I could do absolutely anything to you, and no one would bat an eye. I could publically degrade you in such inconceivable ways until gaggles of bachelorettes were doubled over in laughter (snapping photos with their iPhone) at you, and yet, we would not be asked to leave or even stop.
After all, whatever happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.
So if I feel like forcing your masculine figure into a tight corset, thigh highs and high heels, and taking you onto the strip for a night on the town, no one is going to care, right?
Well, except the bachelorette party down the hall, of course. They will want a piece of the action, I’m sure.
**
But let’s back it up a little. To the suite, upon your arrival.
When you find that I am already there, you will realize, first, that you must cancel all business scheduled for the next day. You “came down the flu,” you realize. Because if I am going to meet you in Las Vegas, you are going to be busy.
When you see what I have in my luggage, you will realize what kind of mood I am in. One large suitcase just filled with the essentials. I’ll make you unpack it, of course, as I watch you and pleasure myself, calling down to flirt more with the bellman on the phone.
By then you will be in nothing but a black lace thong. I will enjoy taking your last masculine clothes – the clothes you are wearing – and locking them in the hotel safe. So you can’t even get to them.
Imagine that. You are in Las Vegas and your luggage has been removed completely, and your only male clothes are in the safe. And as you unpack, all you find are my toys – my vibrators (“Stop, give me that one. (Click. Buzzzz.) Keep unpacking, don’t look at me, bitch.”), my toys, and lingerie that you have never seen before. In your size.
Bright colored, tight, fantastic leotards and tights. Feminine workout gear, as if from the 80s. Screaming, “Look at me, look at my body.” Oh, when you are in it, it is going to be fantastically degrading!
Underneath it, I will have all the necessary accessories to feminize your body. A tight corset to give you shape, breast forms to make your boobs much too large for a practical workout. You will be fitted with an inflatable, fully pumped-up butt plug just to make sure you walk with a certain flair, and instead of sneakers, you will be wearing bright, sparkling pumps.
Imagine walking through the hotel lobby in such an outfit. To add to the humiliation, you will be in a bright, rhinestoned collar and on a long leather leash. Of course, I will be holding the handle of it.
Now, people will stop and look. Some girls will whisper and comment to each other. Some tourists may even take photos. But no one is going to stop us. Because, after all, it’s Las Vegas. You could have lost a bet at a bachelor party or be the victim of a prank. So as long as you prance around appropriately for me and continue to perform tricks for my growing group of friends, it’s all good.
**
Let me tell you why this makes me so incredibly hot.
As we continue on our adventures that evening, I will know that the plug is making it increasingly difficult for you to walk and maneuver. As we slide in and out of taxis and limos and I make you touch up your hair and makeup, I will sense that you are totally uncomfortable at how everyone is looking at you and talking about you.
The women, especially, will make you so uncomfortable. And I will feel your pride shrink as much as your tiny, useless cock is shrinking in the panties as I invite the groups of college-aged girls to come closer and evaluate you. I will just be waiting for the right boisterous, outgoing group to invite them to come along.
Our growing group of friends will mean more unpredictable humiliation for you. In the back of the crowded limo, rounds of “stupid slut tricks” will be encouraged, where the ladies laugh hysterically as I make you “perform” on command.
Get down on the floor, on all four, and kiss her manicured toes, slut.
Crawl to the lady next to her and sit up and beg like a dog, slut.
Take your leash between your teeth and crawl to the blonde, the bachelorette, so she can take the leash and slap your ass with it, slut.
Give foot massages to all in the limo, because their feet and legs are so tired from walking the Strip all day.
And finally, as we arrive at the club, your ultimate humiliation would begin. The hottest nightspots in Las Vegas, where the men are all checking me out, and the women are all looking at you and pointing. Loud music, alcohol flowing. By 2 am, the men will begin hitting on you, because they have had just enough to drink.
And me. Across the dancefloor. Hooking up with a tanned, young foreigner, exchanging kisses, making sure you can see that I am allowing his hands to travel down the back of my skirt and feel, squeeze my round ass. Something you never get to do.
Only to leave you wondering. How will this night end up, anyway? You have no masculine clothes to your name. Your Mistress is hooking up with a man who will certainly be invited up to the room. And your lipstick is starting to smear.
The least of your worries will be the throbbing in your ass, thanks to the expanded plug that ultimately reminds you of your place.
Affectionately,
Mistress Akasha
