Susan strolled out of the shower, her hair damp, wrapped in a fluffy purple towel I had picked out for her. "My, my, look what we have here," she said, as she walked towards where I was still tied spread-eagled in bed, my arms and legs bound to the posts with restraints, a tight gag placed on my mouth. "Who could have done this to my poor cucky?" She smiles as she reached out her hand, tracing circles on my skin. I almost gasped as she leaned over to kiss me, the scent of shampoo thick on the air.



"Is my cucky still upset that he didn't get to watch me shower?"



I nodded, as best I could with the gag.



"Well then you'll have to learn to address me properly won't you? I may be your girlfriend, but I am your physical and intellectual superior. I've told you that you may call me Mistress Susan, or Ma'am. Not Susan, and definitely not "honey". Do I make myself clear?"



I nodded again.



"Well I suppose you've learnt your lesson now," she said, undoing my restraints with deft hands and walking away towards the dresser.



My eyes lingered on Susan as I sat up and rubbed my wrists gingerly. In her late 20s, she was an absolute stunner, with her dark brown hair, startlingly green eyes, her perfect breasts and a sexy bubble butt that often drew the attention of men as we passed by. Any man she met wanted her, I could see it in some of their eyes. Lately it appeared almost everyone was getting their wish, except for me.



"Cucky", came Susan's voice from across the room, "have you picked my lingerie out for me yet?"



I hurried towards the closet, where I had kept the expensive bra and panty set I had bought for her that afternoon. The bra was a black, C-cup bra, accompanied by a set of boyshorts. I walked up to where my girlfriend was still applying her makeup at the dresser. She turned towards me, and held her hand out for the lingerie. "Kneel", she said, and I found myself complying immediately. Susan's voice had that effect.



I looked up at her, watching her study the underwear I had bought her, and I knew, immediately, that she wasn't happy.



"Do you remember me telling you, cucky, that I wanted my look today to be slutty?" she said, evenly, looking from me to the underwear.



"Yes, but..." I was at a loss. Certainly I'd known, but I thought the underwear would look great on her. Surely she wasn't...



"Do you know what slutty means?", she asked, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Do you need me to define the word for you?"



"I do know what it means, Mistress Susan, I'm sorry-"



"Perhaps this qualifies as slutty for you, but tonight I'm going out with a real man. They have entirely different standards, and this falls way below the mark. How about this? While I'm away, you can spend some time writing an essay on the meaning of the word, its origins, and as a bonus, you can write a bit about exactly how your girlfriend should dress to appear slutty."



"Yes, Ma'am." There was no point arguing. Susan delighted in giving me punishments, and even more in punishing me for arguing with her. The last time this had happened, she had invited her best friend over, and forced to explain to her, in excruciating detail, our lifestyle and how she dominated me.



"Good," said Susan, "Throw this underwear in the trash. Fetch me the white push-up bra and the black ruffle booty shorts. And if this happens again, I promise you I'll invite Sheila over again. And this time, I'll let her do more than watch. Am I understood?"



I nodded, gulping. Sheila was an incredibly attractive woman too, and she had shown an untoward amount of interest in repeating my previous humiliation.



When I returned, Susan had already put on her finest sheer stockings and her 6-inch stilettos. She was clicking them against the floor with impatience. I gave her the underwear and knelt beside her again.



"Who are you going out with tonight, Mistress Susan?" I asked tentatively.



"My, cucky certainly is in a curious mood today", she said with a wicked smile on her face. "I'm afraid I'm not going to answer that question my dear. You'd just be upset, and it might distract you from the essay you have to write tonight. Far better to keep you wondering, I think"



"Besides, who ever heard of a girlfriend telling her boyfriend about everyone she sleeps with. That seems far too intrusive. A girl needs some secrets, don't you think?" Her grin was positively devilish now. She loved making me do this, loved making me say things I didn't want to say, just for the sheer humiliation of it. When Sheila had come over, she had made me kneel in front of her, and tell her how I bought lingerie for my girlfriend to sleep with other men in. Sheila's smile had been so wide then - the humiliation couldn't have been worse.



"You never hear me asking you who you sleep with now, do you cucky?" said Susan, grinning down at my penis, or where my penis would be visible if it weren't for the high-security chastity cage fitted over it. Susan had insisted "unworthy" cocks, as she put it, should not be left free in her presence. My cock had been locked in its current state for more than 3 months, with no sign of a let-up from her.



Susan finished adjusting her bra, and I automatically reached out for the black dress I'd prepared earlier in the day. "Oh, that won't be necessary, dear", she said, as she lifted her overcoat off the coat hangar and began to put it on.



"But, Susan - ," I broke off as I slowly realized what she intended to do.



"Outer clothes seem like such a waste when I'm with him. He does like to get down to business as soon as he has me to himself. The last time, he was so impatient that he tore my best dress, don't you remember! I wouldn't want you to have to go shopping to replace it again, my sweet cucky."



Susan finished buttoning the overcoat. "He is such a lingerie man," she breathed with a dreamy expression on her face. "I can't wait to take this coat off and see his reaction. I would have been a lot more happy -" she shot a glare at me, "if this set was new. He's seen this set before. And all because my cucky is incapable of following simply instructions."



"I'm sorry Mistress Susan."



"Well you'll have ample time to be sorry while I'm gone, with that essay you have to write," she smirked, as she straightened with a flourish. "Oh, don't forget that the laundry still has to be done! And remember, everything has to be hand-washed. Please don't make me send you to the lingerie store and tell the saleswoman that you ruined your Mistress' lingerie and need to replace it. It positively tears me apart to humiliate you like that."



I bowed my head subserviently.



"Well, you be good tonight, my dear. I know I won't", taunted my girlfriend, as she walked towards the door. "I'll see you later tonight, maybe." She sounded as though the alternative was infinitely more preferable.



The door closed behind her. A few minutes later, I heard voices in the hallway downstairs, before the front door slammed shut as well.



Who was that?, I wondered.



The door to the master bedroom opened again, and Sheila walked in. She had possibly never looked so delighted.



"Hello there," she said, in a voice dripping with anticipation.