Chapter 5 - We Must Not Allow A Femdom Gap

DING DING

The bell situated above the entrance to Miss Scarlett rang as Markus nervously walked in and closed the door behind him. It was a Sunday afternoon, two weeks since his first visit to Club Ishtar. This was the appointment he’d been dreading. Unless Shireen had set this up as an elaborate joke, the store was going to doll him up for a second trip into the Femdom underworld.

Markus was decked out in a button-down shirt, slacks and a classic flat cap. The knowledge that he wouldn’t be wearing them for long hung over him like a dark cloud. That was the reason for the backpack slung over his shoulder. He needed somewhere to store his normal clothes once the ordeal was over.

He proceeded into the store and scanned it from the entrance. It was clearly a women’s boutique, yet it seemed not all their customers were female. Shireen had been specific about their willingness to outfit both women and men. The rows of the shop were fairly close together and the store was filled with dresses, gowns, costumes, lingerie and other feminine apparel.

In no time at all, a curvy Latina with shoulder-length black hair strolled into view. She wore a sparkling, clingy red dress and matching red rimmed glasses. Markus wondered if she was the owner and eponymous ‘Miss Scarlet’ or if everyone who worked there was encouraged to wear red in accordance with the theme.

“Hello! I’m Rita. Can I help you find something today?”

“Hi Rita. I’m Markus. I believe I have an appointment?”

“Ahhh, yes. You’re my two o’clock! I was told you’re looking for a costume, but wasn’t given any specifics. What is it you need?”

“Ummm, I know I shouldn’t be bashful about this, because I’ve been told you provide such services, but it still feels a little odd to me...”

“Something intimate I take it?”

“Yeah, let’s go with that.”

“For your significant other, or...?”

Markus’ cheeks burned with awkwardness as he removed his cap. His gaze fell to the floor. “No. I’ll be needing something in my size.”

Rita’s professional demeanor faded into a sly smile and she placed a hand on her hip. “Out with it, then! How is it you’d like to dress up?”

“It’s not what I’d like, Ma’am. You see, I’m in this theater group and right now we don’t have enough women to play all the roles.”

“Uh huh.” Rita’s smirk was growing more amused by the second. “It definitely sounds like you’re into role playing.”

“It may sound silly, but it wasn’t an uncommon practice in the days of Shakespeare. Men dressing as women.”

“It’s never been uncommon. And you are being silly right now.”

Markus laughed nervously. His eyes darted away as Rita’s gaze remained locked on him. There was a few moments of painful silence before the haughty woman spoke again. “How will I be dressing you today, Markus?”

“Like a maid.”

“A French maid?”

“Yeah, I suppose...”

Rita snickered and lifted one hand gracefully. Her index finger pointed to the back of the shop, behind her. “This way. Follow me.”

She turned and they headed further into the store, her high heels pumping like a runway model as Markus followed the hostess in. They passed many aisles of dresses, formal wear, undergarments, shoes and boots before taking a turn into a large room in the back. As they emerged, it became clear that they were in the kink section of the store. Leather, latex, fur, silk and kinky costumes of all kinds were bountiful.

Rita opened her mouth to speak, but was immediately silenced by the sound of a phone ringing in the distance. She pointed to the rows of fetish-wear around her. “Have a look around. I’ll be right back.”

The lady in red strutted back to the front counter and picked up the receiver. “Miss Scarlet. Rita speaking. How can I help you?”

“Hi Rita. My name’s Shireen and I’m just calling with a heads up. If he’s not already there, a man named Markus should be stopping by shortly.”

“Oh, yes, he’s here. We were just getting started with his appointment.”

“Perfect! Now, just so you know, this man is here to dress up like a slutty maid, but he’s probably going to try and get away with the bare minimum. I would ask that you not let him do that. Make sure he gets the works. Dress, lingerie, wig, makeup, nails, heels, etc. You have a couple hours before I arrive to pick him up. If he gives you any fuss, tell him Shireen said to obey Ms. Rita or the date is off.”

Rita’s laughter echoed through the store. It was loud enough for Markus to hear all the way in the back room. It sent a chill down his spine as he examined the ‘French maid’ section of the costume department.

“Thank you so much, Shireen. It seems I’ll have no trouble hitting my sales target today.”

“My pleasure. Oh, and one more thing...”

“Yes?”

“He loves purple.”

Rita laughed again before saying goodbye and hanging up. She darted to the back of the store where one of the other women on duty was stocking shelves.

“Hey Katy, can you watch the front for a while?”

“Sure thing” the young blonde answered with a smile.

“Thanks. I got a special client in the back room and I might be a while.”

Rita returned to the back room hastily and found Markus where she’d left him. She pointed to a short hallway just behind him. “We have special dressing rooms for our adult section right back there. Head into room one and remove your clothes.”

“You mean down to my boxers?”

“No. Everything comes off.”

“What?!?”

“I know we’ve just met, but I was a nurse in another life. You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Markus stared at her in disbelief, frozen for a few moments before acquiescing. “Alright, but don’t I need to pick out some clothes first?”

“I’ll handle that. I’ve just spoken to Ms. Shireen and she filled me in on everything. Give me your waist and shoe size. I can eyeball the rest.”

Markus gave her the numbers before slinking off to the dressing room. He passed a pair of women carrying bags of their purchases. They eyed him suspiciously as they passed in the hall. Once they’d walked by, he could hear them comment behind him.

“Ugh ... There’s always a pervert or two in here.”

“I know, right?”

Markus sighed and entered the changing station. He began removing his clothes and placing them in a neat pile on the table. When he was finished, he turned and kept his back to the door. He wasn’t about to put on a show for Ms. Rita unless he had to.

After a couple lonely minutes of standing in the quiet, cool room, the door opened and Rita entered. “Still shy I see?” She tossed a couple garments on the table, both contained in neat plastic packaging. “Put those on. I’ll be back with more, shortly.”

She walked out, leaving the door wide open. Markus turned to find what she’d left. His eye bulged as he discovered a premium set of satin, crotchless panties and some white pantyhose with garters.

“Oh, god...” he muttered as he took them up and started dressing. He slid the panties on first and his cock poked right through the hole in the lacy, stretchy garment. Markus couldn’t deny that they felt nice on his skin. Nicer than any pair of boxers or briefs ever had.

“HAHAHAHA!” a voice boomed from the hallway and Markus practically jumped out of his own skin. He never even saw the woman who’d spotted him sporting his new, silky undergarment. “Close the door next time, sissy!” her voice chided him as she continued down the hallway.

Markus’ hand flew to his chest as his heart pounded. He crossed to the door and shut it firmly. Had Rita done that on purpose or was she just so casual about people being naked that she didn’t think twice about it? Both seemed plausible.

Next came the pantyhose sliding up his dark skin. Soon his legs were covered in a frilly, white tint and his cock was trapped against his body. Markus had to admit, the silkiness outlining his unit felt oddly pleasurable. It made his cheeks go red. Markus’ every instinct told him to put his old clothes back on, run out of the store and never look back.

CLICK-CLACK

The door opened and Rita entered once again. She was carrying a shiny purple and white dress, a long pair of purple leather boots and some item he didn’t recognize. This time she had a full view of Markus in his panties and silky leggings.

“Hmmmm! That’s more like it!”

“The pantyhose are are little tight, Ma’am.”

“They’re supposed to be, but if you think they’re too tight we can go up a size.”

“I’m amazed you have this stuff in my size at all.”

“Miss Scarlett caters to everyone. Women. Men. Big Women. Even big men! You are all sexy little tarts in waiting.”

“That’s very egalitarian of you.”

Rita chuckled before setting down the dress and boots. The other garment she was carrying unfolded in her hands and Markus finally got an idea of what they were. They looked like ... fake breasts?!?

She held the bra-like apparatus up for Markus to see. The weighty breast forms dangled and stretched up and down in between her outstretched hands. “This is next.”

Markus folded his arms over his chest. “Is that really necessary?”

“They’re just little B-cups to help complete the look. Surely they’re not too heavy for a big, strong man like you?”

“I don’t know...”

She raised an eyebrow and pointed at him sternly. “Ms. Shireen said you would dress the part completely or the date is off!”

Markus sighed. “Fine.” He let his hands drop to his sides and turned around at her direction.

Rita guided him to one of the long mirrors on the wall and started wrapping the breast forms around his chest. She pulled the stretchy bindings around his back and hooked them together, then followed suit with the top straps that went over his shoulders.

Markus cringed as he watched his feminization begin. He stared at his own sad visage as a woman’s hands reached around and maneuvered his new milkers until they were in perfect position.

“There we are! Now for your dress.”

He turned and watched Rita stalk back to the pile of clothing. She pulled the slick, protective plastic film from the dress and displayed it on the hanger for him to see. A second, internal cringe hit Markus as he studied the shiny garment. It was purple PVC surrounded in snow white maid adornments.

It featured ruffled shoulders and elbows, a large white apron on the front and long stripes of silky white along the bottom of the dress and at the wrists. She spun it around and Markus got a look at the finishing touch, a thick white ribbon tied in a bow at the back. Wherever the dress wasn’t covered in plumage, it shined glossy purple.

“Well, I can’t argue with the color” Markus quipped, trying to find some humor in the horror.

“I’ve been saving this piece for just the right customer. I knew it was you as soon as you walked in! You’re going to turn heads wearing this” she announced with a sinister grin.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

Rita motioned for him to turn around again and Markus obeyed. Another short sigh escaped his lips. At this point he just wanted to get the whole thing over with. She closed the distance to him and Markus could hear the back of the dress being unzipped.

“Stand up straight and arms forward!”

She circled to his front as he reached out with both hands. Within moments the cool, slick feeling of PVC began creeping up his right arm. It stretched and clung to his skin as Rita worked the first arm of the dress up his limb carefully. Markus shivered as the shiny, lacy ensemble began to surround him.

After ten minutes of careful direction by Rita and another five minutes of violently yanking the thigh-high boots over his feet and up his calves, Markus stood in awe of himself. He stared in the mirror, inspecting his form as he waited for the haughty clerk to return. The purple dress shined in the overhead lights. The glossy gown flowed down to his knees where white, PVC boots took over. Billowy fabric, the color of snow, accented his dress everywhere, covering half of his front and giving him the classic maid look.

Markus walked back and forth awkwardly, testing his footing. Thankfully, the boots only had short heels and they were fairly thick. His face still gave him away as a man, but he had to admit, Rita had done a bang-up job. He looked pretty hot from the neck down.

As if thinking the devil’s name made her appear, the door opened and she walked back in. Markus turned and found her holding two more products with a wicked smile on her face. He didn’t like the look of either.

“What are those?”

“A cock cage and a butt plug. You want to go all the way for your lady friend, don’t you?”

“Ohhhhhhhhh NO!” Markus shouted, holding a hand up defiantly. “I told Shireen I’d dress up. I didn’t agree to no freaky toys!”

“Cmon Markus. You can trust my gentle touch” she implored with a wink.

“That’s a hard no, lady. I know you think I’m secretly into this, but I’m just doin it to humor Shireen.”

She lowered the toys, a glum expression registering her disappointment. “If you say so ... Alright, follow me. We still need to find you a wig and do your makeup and nails.”

“How much longer is this gonna take?”

Rita put her hands on her hips. “It will take as long as it takes. You can’t rush beauty. Besides, do you really want to wait outside until Ms. Shireen gets here? You still have an hour before she arrives.”

Markus’ face drooped and his eyes went wide with fear. “You know what? That’s an excellent point. Please do take your time, Ma’am.”

Rita chuckled as she turned and exited the dressing room. “Good sissy” she taunted as he followed her out.

Markus’ heart beat a hundred miles an hour as he stumbled into Club Ishtar at the end of Shireen’s leash. He struggled to walk in his new heeled boots. The bag at his side contained feminine products and extra cosmetics supplied by Ms. Rita in case he needed to freshen up. He’d never felt more out of place in his life, dressed as a maid and being led into a sex club wearing a collar, wig and a pound of makeup. He couldn’t deny the silky lingerie and smooth costume made him feel tingly, but that was the last thing on his mind as he entered the den of lustful, empowered women and dutiful male submissives.

’Why did I agree to this? Jesus Christ! There are other fish in the sea!!!’

As if to answer his question, Shireen turned to check on him. Her gaze lingered and, for once, the look wasn’t dismissive or annoyed. It was genuine delight. Markus’ mouth hung open as he stared back. Her smile was worth all the treasures in the world. That’s why he’d returned to this insane place.

They came to a stop about fifty feet from the dance floor. Shireen unclipped the leash from his collar and took a step back. “Okay. I’m gonna go do some shopping of my own. I’ll be back to get you in a few hours.”

“What?!?”

“It’s time for you to go on a journey of self-discovery, Markus.”

“What about the rules?!? I’m not supposed to be here by myself!”

“Relax. You stuck out like a sore thumb last time in that purple suit.” Shireen eyed him up and down, studying his satin, lace and PVC clad form. “You blend in much better now.”

“But what if some of these ladies realize I’m on my own?”

“Then, I guess you’ll have to do what they say” she answered with an amused smile.

Markus had no reply; just a look of growing anxiety. His brain was melting at the prospect of what he was about to do.

Shireen rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s innocent fun and it’s just for a few hours. When it’s over, you can take me out wherever you like.” She pointed to the phone in the pocket of his dress. “I want pictures of you from all around the club! No shenanigans, like hiding in the bathroom!”

Markus sighed and nodded.

The domineering diva flashed him a fresh smile and waved as she walked back to the lobby. “Bye! See ya in a bit!”

Markus put on the biggest smile he could and tapped his phone to take the selfie. The flash went off and there he was, a black man in drag steeped in a purple and white French maid costume. He studied the picture for a few seconds and nodded thoughtfully. Now that his ensemble was complete, he had to admit, he was pulling it off.

He’d seen advertisements for drag queen shows that were popular in recent years. As far as he could tell, he passed for a woman at least as good as their contestants did. It was a weird thing to note and even more odd that he would have any sort of pride in it, and yet, that’s what he was feeling.

It’d been a half hour since Shireen left him. Markus had wandered up to the second floor of the club and taken pictures of himself in front of several different venues. It was a miracle he hadn’t been accosted yet. He knew the longer he stayed by himself, the more likely someone would notice he wasn’t being escorted. He walked along the corridor above the swirling mass of dancing and lights below. Markus tried his best to look interested and happy to be there.

He stopped in front of the next showroom and took another picture of himself. In the background was the entrance to the venue. The marquee over it said ‘Mistress Hannah – Shibari Queen.’ There were depictions of ropes, knots and people hanging in suspension bondage on either side.

Markus stepped away from the attraction as soon as he confirmed it was a good picture. He crossed the hallway and took another look at the party below. He found a solid looking pillar to rest against and leaned his back on it. He needed to find somewhere to sit down and give his poor feet a rest from the stifling heels. A remix of RuPaul’s ‘Supermodel’ blasted through the club. The tune’s echoes cascaded upward through the escalating floors of debauchery.

You better work! Cover girl!
Work it, girl! Give a twirl!
Do your thing! On the runway!

Work! Supermodel!
You better work it, girls! Of the world!
Wet your lips! And make love to the camera!

“Hey! You gonna stand there all night?”

Markus looked up to see a short, blonde woman in red leather and latex standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. She was staring at him intently. He pointed at himself and gazed back at her with a quizzical expression.

“Yeah, you! The slut in purple! I don’t see anyone else loitering outside my door. C’mere!”

He pushed himself off the column and started toward her. Markus knew he had to play it cool, or he’d be in real trouble. This was one of the club Dommes.

“Hello ... Mistress Hannah?”

“That’s right. I’m the Mistress of Ropes. Queen of Shibari!” She studied Markus up and down. “Wanna get tied up? You look like the kinda tart who enjoys some bondage!”

“Love to, but I’m following orders right now.” He responded in the most foppish, feminine voice he could emulate. “Mistress told me to take pictures all over the club before returning to her.”

“Mistress who?” she asked suspiciously.

“Mistress Shireen” he answered. “And my name’s Markus. You can check the guest list if you like. We arrived not long ago.”

Hannah relaxed. “I see. Still using a male name, huh?”

Markus waved at her with his painted nails and offered a weak chuckle. “Oh, you know, there’s just so many lovely names to choose from. I haven’t decided yet.”

The woman in red seemed less amused. “Generous of your Mistress to let you choose” she replied, stone faced. “When you find her, tell Mistress Shireen that the Queen of Shibari would love to show you the ropes. My knots and ties would look wonderful digging into that purple dress of yours!”

“I will. Thank you Mistress!” Markus said before hefting the front of his dress and strolling off. “Maybe I’ll see you later!”

“I look forward to it” Hannah spoke before turning and re-entering her domain.

Markus scurried down the gallery, sweating bullets as he fled.

’Holy shit, that was close! New rule: no loitering!’

He made his way to the next set of staircases and marched his way up. As soon as he emerged on the third floor he instantly regretted his decision. There was a medium build woman in neck-to-toe black latex waiting outside her door. Markus couldn’t escape the feeling that Club Ishtar was built like the classic Bruce Lee film Game of Death. More difficult opponents waited on each ascending floor until you reached the final boss.

She leaned against the doorway running a nail file over the fingers of her left hand. Her hair was jet black with a streak of pink dyed into it. The marquee above her establishment said ‘Mistress Cindy – Exquisite Torturess.’ The signs to either side of the room displayed a fist colliding with the outline of a scrotum and a woman kicking a man in the balls.

“Hey there Miss Purple! You’re not one of the club maids. What are you doing up here by yourself? Do you still have your balls? I’d be happy to punch them, if you do.”

Markus bubbled over with nervous laughter as he slowed to a stop. He lifted one flattened palm up to his brow and made a show of looking across the way, inspecting the horizon. “No, thank you, I’m just looking for my Mistress!”

“Oh, come now! I know a pain slut when I see one” the haughty woman persisted. She stepped forward and closed in on Markus, smiling wickedly. “A lot of women in this club like to bust balls, but I promise you, I’m the best. I know how to do it slow and sweet. I can soothe you in between each delicious wave of pain. Doesn’t that sound nice? Let me be your Mistress for the next little while...” Her eyebrows raised and she curled her index finger in the come hither motion.

“Uhhh, my Mistress isn’t here! Thanks, but I gotta go or I’ll be in trouble!”

Markus turned and hurried off, heading back down the staircase he’d just climbed.

Cindy snickered. She returned to her customary waiting position, leaning against the doorway. “You’ll be back!” she called out before she resumed filing her nails. It was important to keep them short and smooth in her profession.

As he reached the ground floor, Markus breathed a sigh of relief. Going upstairs to take pictures among the severe club Dommes of Ishtar would be the hardest part of the evening, he hoped. That was behind him now. All he had to do was get some more snaps of himself at the various attractions around the dance hall and he would be set. Then he could find somewhere to chill. Maybe if he went to the bar and ordered a drink, he could take it easy for the last hour or so.

SMACK SMACK

“MUSH! MOVE, YOU WORMS!!!”

Markus turned and beheld what had to be the most bizarre sight he’d witnessed in his entire life. A woman dressed in Amazonian warrior garb was following behind a team of men, saddled in full leather horse tack. Each male slave was decked out in a full gimp suit, overlaid with a leather harness around their torso, legs and head and a gag fixed in their mouths. All of them were collared and leashed. The buckles and chains of their getup clinked and jangled as they pranced forward.

The tall brunette towered over them, grasping the reigns that led to an O-ring where all their separate leashes connected together. Her other hand lashed out with a braided cat-o’-nine-tails as she barked orders at her bound sluts. When he realized they were approaching swiftly, Markus got out of the way and gazed in fascination as the fiery woman whipped and cursed her leather team right through the concourse where he’d been standing.

As they headed into the distance, Markus watched them turn into a hallway with a bright, flashing neon sign above it. It read ‘PONY GAMES’ and had an arrow pointing toward the entrance. He’d noticed the sign before and wondered what the hell it meant. Now he had some idea. Markus shook his head, at once frightened and confident he didn’t want to learn more.