A Day at the Fetish Flea

I first met Jack at the bar. It was a little uncomfortable for me talking to people there, because not only was it was a drag bar, I was drinking alone and I dreading that I might run into someone who might recognize me.

I had been to the Fetish Flea that afternoon, gawking at the outlandish gear. Many booths lined the hall, and hundreds of freaky people strolling through the flea market: some on leashes, others encased in luscious latex with giant inflatable tits and artfully decorated hoods. I was sporting a huge boner behind my shopping bag virtually drooling over all the sexy trans people in their sexiest finery.

Many scantily clad women strutted their assets drawing lots of stares, but I only had eyes for the outrageous gurls. Especially those obvious sissies in divine pink chiffon dresses, layered soft clouds of petticoats with cute little bows and frilly ankle socks over their matching tights. I so admired their proud exhibition of personal sexuality that I could not bring myself to share.

I was in my usual jeans and t-shirt, trying desperately to be nondescript yet secretly deliciously clad in pretty pink rhumba panties with stay up sheer white hose embracing my recently shaved privates. No one knew my secret fantasies yet I felt every thrill of my dainty pretty things. Sashaying through the crowd of people, some breathtakingly strong and masculine. While others allowing their feminine side to shout to the world.

I was next in line at a vendor table selling brightly colored sex toys when I saw an acquaintance from work down the next aisle. I froze and my cheeks clenched around the small butt plug in my boi pussy as I caught my breath, searching for the nearest exit. I had to get out before I was found out.

My feet betrayed me as I stumbled and tripped. I cursed myself and dropped my bag into the mass of the oncoming crowd. The over-sized black curved dildo and jar of lube spilled onto the floor exposing my proclivities. I landed on the floor, caught between a pair of black leather boots. They were old and hand-rubbed, smelling of polish, spit and age.

As I looked up, my boner twitched at the weathered leather chaps ending at his revealing hairless groin. His cock was large and obvious in a skin tight sinuous black sheath. The sheath, wrapping his meat, bobbing, beckoning to me.

My gaze traveled upwards to a prodigious man in a black leather bike jacket, zipped down to reveal his clean-shaven chest. He had another man behind him with a studded black leash attached to a collar around his neck. In spite of myself I stopped and stared unabashedly up at the sight in front of me. As I bent to retrieve the contents of my spilled bag, I felt a hand run up my backside and give my plug a slight push. It was then I realized my t-shirt had ridden up, and my sissy panties were peeking out over the top of my jeans.

Quickly, I retrieved my bag and ran for the exit. I heard a soft whistle behind me. My mind was in a state of frantic confusion when I reached the exit door. I shot through it quickly, slamming the door. My chest heaving, gasping for air, I leaned back against it. Feeling relieved for some reason I couldn't quite grasp. In my haste to keep from being exposed, I didn't realize my tiny cock had begun leaking precum and my panties were soaked. I clutched my purchases over my damp groin as I made my way through the dusty exit.

I felt so shocked and scared when I saw my co-worker, and then practically crashed into my secret fantasy dream man. My dream man had touched me! He saw my panties and felt my plug!! He knew what I was. I had to get out of there, I had to run.

I searched for my car. My brain still focused on that massive cock in its sheath, surrounded by leather.

I remembered the smell: his smell. It was musky, slightly sour smell of a man who has been lightly sweating but recently cleaned with strong deodorant soap. His teeth, large, white and sharp grinned broadly from a square-jawed face with dark, laughing blue eyes. He knew I was a secret sissy. Somehow, he seemed to know! In an instant my dream man knew he could have me.

My thoughts kept playing through my head. I had a great job, a wife and kids at home. I was Mayor for Christ sake! I shouldn't do this at all. I hated the impulses that drove me here! Stupid! Stupid! Fool!

The fact that I was an overweight 45-year-old white male, masquerading in my own mind as a teenage girly boi made me feel like a total fool. I felt the momentary shame, yet that man's smile remained in the front of my mind, tantalizingly close yet a world away.

I needed a drink, something strong to calm my nerves and I needed a bathroom to get this plug out and throw away all this sissy stuff forever. I needed to change and go home to my family and be the man they thought I was.

As I left the hall, I felt the stares of the crowd moving all around me. I felt them laughing at this pitiful sissy. My gaze danced around the parking lot searching for the man, my dream man and his submissive on a chain. Something made me remember his hunched shoulders, that submissive posture of him slouching behind his Master.

I wondered what it must be like to be a sub to that man's strong hands; touching him, groping him. To offer himself to that monstrous cock and have it forced down my throat and so much more, being used in any way his Master desired.

I was lost in my daydream and forgot where I was, where I was going.

Dreaming as I walked, I tripped over a low curb and landed face first in a patch of damp grass. Somewhere behind me I heard a soft chuckle. It was him! I knew it! He had followed me! I couldn't move.

I felt a small hand on my shoulder and a young girl asked if I was okay. She was pretty yet heavily made up but attractive and sexy. With a start I realized she was actually a guy. Her voice a bit too low and her Adams apple a bit too large. Her make up a touch too slutty covering a dark 5 o'clock shadow.

"Are you okay?" she repeated.

I mumbled something, stuttering badly and rushed back on my feet. The large curved dildo had fallen out of my bag again and was laying there beside me.

Blushing deeply, I scooped it back into the bag and once again felt the need to escape.

"Hey, it's okay," she said. "Here, take one of these. It's a safe place and the people are nice there."

She shoved something in my hand and with a sweet smile she turned away. As she left, I stared at the delightful exaggerated sway of her full hips. She was passing out flyers, quickly sliding them under windshield wipers and handing them to Flea patrons with a big friendly smile. I looked down at the paper in my hand, reading the colorful flyer for a local bar.

I don't really remember much about the drive to the bar. The Hardwood Haven, an interesting name, was only a short drive. I felt my luck may be changing as there was a parking space right out front.

The dim lighting around a low-ceiling room gave the place a soft seductive feel. My eyes were slow adjusting to particle board seediness of the place. The bar's open floorplan might have felt expansive if not for the high heavy shoulders of the many booths. Wisps of smoke curled from heavy red-leather booths, lurking in the dim corners of the room. I kept my gaze down, carefully avoiding the eyes of the many stares following the new customer, which was me. I shuffled my way to the polished wooden bar and a vacant high-top chair on the corner. I ordered a beer and a shot of Fireball to calm my shaky nerves.

An eagerly attentive barmaid greeted me as I sat down. I tried hard to return her smile as I again felt the hard bit of plastic tucked away in my boi pussy pushing against the hard stool. I had to get it out and get this sissy gear stowed away - no thrown away - very soon even if it meant going commando all the way home.

The cute tall barmaid brought my drinks and smiled again. Did she really make a small kiss with her mouth as she took the ten off the bar?

"Booths are in back down that hallway," she said in a soft low voice pointing with her chin. "You should check out Maquisha tonight, she's hot."

She chuckled and motioned with her strong chin at the ATM machine in the corner. "There's an ATM over there and a change machine next to it, if you feel so inclined."

Again I must have looked confused and she chuckled again and moved on to another customer with what looked like an exaggerated swing of her hips.

"Barmaid's a hottie ain't she?" I was surprised by the masculine voice in my left ear.

I turned to see a round-shouldered, vaguely familiar man standing to the side rather close to me that I hadn't noticed before. He smiled wickedly and continued. "I wouldn't mind tapping that after I check out that Maquisha honey for a little while. Name's Jack," he proudly exclaimed, extending his hand in an overly friendly manner.

"T-tim," I stuttered, "mmy friends all call me Tee though.

"Nice to meet you Teeny, "he said with a grin.

"Tee, please."

I was suddenly realized I still clutched the colorful paper flyer in my hand. I opened it to reveal the words "The Hardwood Haven' is pleased to introduce 'Magical Maquisha' - the gurl with something extra, direct from sunny San Fran."

"You ok friend? Something bothering you?" he asked. I snapped back into reality, shocked to realize I had been rubbing the end of my butt plug on the edge of the stool and zoning out. I also realized this man had lightly rested his hand, just for a moment, on my thigh.

"You going into the booths? This place is the best I tell ya, everybody says Providence is hot, but nothing is better than this place." Had he really given my thigh a squeeze before taking his hand away?

"I-I have to go to the john," I said standing.

"Ya, It sort of looks it" he laughed staring down at the growing bulge in my pants. I blushed and quickly rushed towards the men's room door.

As I entered the Men's I noticed six or seven men waiting to use the urinals. I turned to the stalls hoping I could go in and get out of these clothes and relieve my anus of its silent shame.

The middle stall was vacant and I slipped in and shut the door. My heart sank as I noticed the broken lock hanging off the steel door.

"You want cock you came to the right place" was etched crudely into the door, scarring up the inside in large letters.

"Doms rule and sissies drool" was carved beneath it.

I could hear a loud familiar fumbling of belts and shoes from the stalls on either side of me. It seemed they contained large men breathing heavily. I sat on the toilet and put both my feet against the door to hold it shut, and pondered my predicament. I couldn't risk someone checking the stall door and opening it to find me changing. I had my pants down around my shins but decided I couldn't change here, staring at what looked like a very sticky floor.

I decided I would tough it out and change somewhere else. Then I remembered my gym pass. I could go there and change in one of the private rooms and even shower. Feeling greatly relieved I pulled my pants back up and left the Men's room without even using it or washing my hands.

I returned to find Jack with his hand on my barstool, holding down the fort and guarding my drink. Hey man let's go check out Maquisha together. That would be a hoot. I'll pay for the first look."

"No thanks," I said. "I think I'll just finish my drink and go to the gym, but thanks anyway Jack."

"Ok suit yourself but you're gonna miss the hottest little piece of ass you ever saw." He said clapping me on the back.

I tried to smile and be polite to this friendly stranger as I downed my shot in one swallow and took a healthy gulp of my beer.

"Let me buy you one more before you go" He said. "Well ok, if I can return the favor some other time." I replied.

He smiled what seemed to me a sad smile and patted my thigh again. "Not a problem at all hun."

Did he just call me hun? I realized I was rubbing my butt on the chair again. Jack ordered another drink from our 'hot' Barmaid, and after our third shot I was feeling much happier and calmer. When he asked me if I was sure I didn't want to check out the booths, it didn't seem like such a bad idea. I was safe now, I had time, my body seemed numb to the idea of heading home and the constant pats on my thigh had me thinking Jack was a pretty good guy after all.

Jack called the barmaid over and changed a fifty-dollar bill. Turning towards the back, Jack dropped a large tip on the bar and winked at our barmaid. I staggered just a little bit as I tried to look nonchalant following meekly behind this stranger towards the back rooms.

An arching hallway led to a narrow dark space painted in a ghastly crimson hue from which cheap particle wood doors hid unknown rooms in the surrounding darkness. We shuffled into the gloom, some doors cracked open, eyes peering out watching our passage. Jack seemed to know his way and marched ahead towards a light-colored door at the end of the hall. He entered boldly without a knock and turned to beckon me with a smile that grew larger as I approached.

"You sure about this Jack" I asked not at all sure I wanted to follow this man into a dark deserted back room of a divey bar.

"Just wait you are going to love this," he beamed. "I can almost guarantee this will be the best night of your life."

I chuckled at the obvious hyperbole and was sure it was just bold alcohol talk, but cautiously I peeked around the doorframe into the room.

The expansive space was not at all what I expected. I was prepared for shabby and seedy beyond the door. I expected...hoodlums with guns, monsters...? What I found was a gaily painted, brightly lit room with a wall of glass across one end. There were antique-looking sconces framing tasteful artwork on the walls, illuminating the room with a soft pinkish hue. An almost homey feel coupled with a pleasant floral fragrance in the air lent a special, almost pretty ambiance. This brightened my spirit and eased my fear somewhat and I may have straightened up just a bit as I followed close behind Jack.

The glass wall was the room's most prominent feature. It took up the far end of the space and was covered by a silken drape of soft pink that appealed to me and made me feel that much more at ease. The room had a wing chair of heavy brown leather, overstuffed and worn with an unmatching divan. The divan was done in beige and marked my many dark stains that I silently speculated.

I moved to sit in the chair, but Jack was already seated so I stood next to the divan wondering how comfortable I would be with my plug still firmly in place. Jack held out a handful of dollar bills and pointed to the cash machine next to the curtain.

"I think you need to feed the kitty to start the show," he offered with a chuckle. "First 10 minutes are on me...after that you'll have to earn your keep," he smirked.

I wonder what that means, thinking to myself as I fed the bills into the slit. A moment after the second five went into the machine the curtain began to slowly separate from the center and reveal a small bed in the center of a totally white room. The bed was unremarkable except for the shiny brass pole that ran from floor to ceiling beside it. Otherwise the room was empty.

"Ring the bell for service," Jack chuckled pointing to a small button on the wall beside the cash machine. I pushed the button feeling some unknown slimy substance. A small door cracked open behind the bed and a vision of femininity dressed in gossamer and lace floated into the room. She was wrapped in pastels, soft reds and yellows, greens and blues. Her hair was long wavy and so light as to be almost white. All this contrasted with her dark olive skin and her huge doe eyes, painted a deep smoky violet. Her lips were creamy magenta and tilted up in a playful smirk. Her body was lush, full with hips that were wide and held the promise of blissful sensuality. Her gown embraced and lifted her full generous breasts. The material danced to cover her as she moved. It enhanced and emphasized her sexiness rather than covering her. Jack and myself found ourselves drawn under her spell.

"What did I tell you," Jack whispered. "Go up and talk to her Tina." I barely heard him as I walked without hesitation over and stood inches from the glass barrier.

"C-can you hear me Miss?" I said stuttering. Maquisha smiled a sly little smile and ducked her head coyly before raising up, breasts thrust proudly towards me. She replied so softly I almost couldn't hear, "You want me"! It was a statement, not a question. She locked eyes, and held me there like an animal in a snare. She danced with sinuous motion towards the glass barrier, never seeming to come straight towards me, yet edging ever closer. I felt cold on my face, and realized she had seductively drawn me against the glass. Somewhere far behind me the sound of a door opening barely imprinted my mind, so captivated was I with Maquisha, all I knew was her charm.

She abruptly turned her back and bent, wiggling her full round bottom slightly at me glancing back over her shoulder. The tip of a pointed tongue escaping her lips offering more. She seemed to prance back to the bed, grasping the brass pole and swinging herself down softly on her back, eyes locked with my own. Maquisha prowled the bed, circling and writhing. Running her slender strong hands up and down her body, cupping her breasts and offering them to us. The room was spinning and yet her eyes were steady, solid holding us close to her. Her hands smoothed down her body to her panties, thumbs hooked in the waist as she slid them achingly slowly off her hips and down her legs. It felt like a physical blow as her large swollen cock bounced up out of her tiny panties, pointing directly at us. It was large, uncut and fat. Much fatter and longer than any I had ever seen. So much so it tore my gaze from her eyes.

"You want to touch me?" she said. "Give me your hands," she said gesturing towards a drawer I hadn't previously noted. Marquisha looked down at her wondrous cock and I knew she was going to let me hold it. I shuddered at the thought, but I could no more have refused than stopped breathing. My hands reached into the room with her and I felt her run the tips of her breasts into my sweaty outstretched palms. She then leaned back, allowing her erect cock to slide along my fingertips.

I was transfixed, eyes closed luxuriating in the feel of her. That is when I heard the click of the handcuffs on my wrists capturing them inside the room with her. I noted oddly that there was some sort of bar running between the cuffs. "What the ...?" was all I could muster at this startling turn of events.

"I think he is ready for you Master..." the words barely registering in my brain. Then from somewhere in the forgotten distance behind me, I heard someone stirring.

III

Marquisha crawled back to the bed, grinning like a feral beast. My hands were trapped by the bar behind the glass, in spite of myself I felt the bulge growing increasingly harder against my panties. Strong hands seized me from behind. Something penetrated my lust-fogged brain and I yelled "Jack no!"

"Jack is gone my pet," I heard from very close to my ear.

If front of me, Maquisha was gently jacking her monster cock and smiling at the scene playing out before her. "My my, now you're going to put a show on for me," she purred as she licked her lips.

Reflected off the glass above me, was the image of the man I had seen at the Flea. His smile was full and broad, filled with large brilliant predatory teeth. He leaned in again and spoke softly in my ear. So nice to meet you today my dear Tina. I think we are going to be great friends," he chuckled with confidence.

"My name is Patrick but you must call me Daddy or Master because from this moment on you belong to me."