Eve Quest

Her short platinum blonde hair and the ringlets across her forehead gave her a severe 1920’s look. She wore a black leather waist cincher. Her bare B-cup breasts sat firmly on her smooth chest. Each long, thick nipple sported a silver barbell. Black leather garters supported her black fishnet hose. Her polished black, high-heel boots were laced up to just below her knees.

Haltingly, I stopped and faced them.

Sheila’s tone was businesslike. “You may strip, kneel and await our orders or you may pack and leave forever.”

The scene was surreal. I rubbed my chin, looked at Jenny and then at Sheila “Why are you doing this, darling?”

Sheila slid down from her stool, slowly sat her drink down and deliberately walked over to face me. She slapped me hard across the face with her open right hand as she said. “Strip bitch.”

I towered over her, rubbing my check. After a long moment I made the last free-will decision I would ever make. I began unbuttoning my shirt.

“Fold you clothes carefully and place them on the coffee table.” Sheila said, as she returned to her seat.

“I told you the little fag would do it.” Jenny said looking at Sheila. She was absolutely giddy with excitement. “You can’t imagine how much fun this is going to be, our very own slave.”

I undressed and stood before them. My eyes were on Jenny because in my mind she had to be the catalyst for this unbelievable turn of events. She was very pretty, but at that moment, her pointed chin and small mouth struck me as shrewish.

“Get on your knees sissy and don’t eyeball me.” Jenny said.

I obeyed, starring at the floor.

In an ominous tone Sheila added. “It’ll be in your best interest not to ever look a woman in the eyes again, and I damn sure better not catch you looking at their tits or asses. My suggestion for you would be to develop a foot fetish.” She walked over and stood in front of me, cunt to nose so to speak. “Do you understand?”