As I hoped, a lot of people bought the 'aftershave allergy' story, and my day passed fairly uneventfully. I sent Mr. Way several texts asking him to at least hint about the nature of my punishment, but he refused, sending back only winky faces or "you'll see." I was surprised that I made it through the day without running to the bathroom for some quick relief, considering the way he was teasing me. In fact, it was so bad that when the bell rang, dismissing us, I thought I was going to cum right there.
The directions Gerard gave me were fairly easy to follow, and I soon found myself at his house (that is, after stopping no less than 6 times to try and determine whether or not I should go through with it). I was only mildly surprised to find the door unlocked, the rest of the emotion being blanketed by the pure fear and confusion that set in as I walked into his house. It smelled strongly of him, which made me both relax and become more nervous. I stepped through quietly, even though I knew I was the only one home. As I stepped into the kitchen, I noticed a small black box with a note on top of it. Figuring it was part of my punishment, I approached it.
"Frankie. This is both a treat and a punishment. Put this on. I'm in the bedroom."
My heart raced as I looked towards the door that led off towards his room. He was in there waiting for me. I felt myself stiffen and opened the box excitedly. A black cock ring fell into my hand, and I groaned in anguish. Damn fucker wasn't gonna let me cum. Obediently, I slipped the ring on, then pulled myself back into my jeans and zipped up, trying to adjust to the discomfort, but eventually admitting to myself that it couldn't ever be comfortable. I walked slowly into the bedroom.
"Gee?" I called. I heard a light laugh from somewhere, but I couldn't see him. The room wasn't quite dark, but the lighting was dim enough that I couldn't see much of anything.
"The bed." He called from his unidentified hiding place. I look towards it and moaned again. Handcuffs.
"I wasn't that bad!" I called. He appeared from behind the open wardrobe door, smirking. He wore a black bathrobe that covered his whole body.
"Yes you were." He said, pushing me down onto the bed and attaching my wrists to the bedposts by the handcuffs. He looked at me seriously.
"If you want me to stop, say 'end'." I nodded, understanding. He pulled me into a warm kiss and I sighed. I'd been wanting to taste him all day.
"The rules are that you cannot touch me, and you cannot cum. Deal?"
"I couldn't if I tried!" I cried. He beamed.
"That's the idea. Now, close your eyes and don't open until I say." He said. I nodded and did as he told me. I heard the sound of material hitting the floor, and some more shuffling. From what I heard, he took a deep breath before turning the lights up a bit more.
"Okay. Open." He said, his voice sounding shaky. I opened my eyes and gasped. He chewed his lip, blushing.
"Is it...okay?" he asked. I gripped the bedpost, unable to take my eyes off of him. Jesus Christ.
"Yes...God. It's...wow." I breathed. He smiled softly. He was still wearing his shirt and tie from earlier, but loosened and untidy. That was all that remained. On his hips, and ending just below his ass, was a black pleated miniskirt, under which suspenders ran, connecting to the black knee-highs he had slipped on. That wasn't even the best part though (well, I mean yeah, it was pretty sweet). He was wearing make up. Not even just a little bit either – he was fucking painted like a doll. His eyes were covered in smoky black eyeshadow, his lips smothered in red. He'd brushed bronzer along his cheekbones, making them stand out. Jesus Christ, he could actually pass for a woman, and an attractive one at that. He just stood, his legs pressed together, his red lips pulled into a shy smile.
