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litoris and her penis regularly. And the feeling in her balls as the pills and cream worked away on her told her it was going to be a difficult three weeks. Then, she thought of her cock getting thicker and harder than it ever had before and the massive amounts of cum she had produced while Avery had milked her… What now? asked Katerina. Is this it? Do I keep it from this point on? Actually, Miss Strong stood up, It is customary for the Mistress to cage her submissive. If you’re ready, we can do that now. I’ll call for a few of the maids and we can do it in the parlor. Does this sound amenable to you? Katerina’s stomach fluttered at the idea, but she tried to sound confident. Better now that never. Katerina’s pussy had completely drenched her panties and when she stood up to remove the cage, her juices had dripped along the sides of the golden dome. Sorry, she grinned apologetically as she handed the cage back to Avery. No trouble, Avery winked at her and placed the cage back in the carrying case, wrapped in a cleaning cloth. We’ll

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clean it up when we clean you up in a moment. Clean me up? asked Katerina as the other two women made for the door. Yes, said Miss Strong. We have to keep you nice and clean in there, so we’re going to wash you up and trim your hair a bit and then you’ll be ready for the lock. Katerina stopped before the door and waited for the others to step through, then, with a deep breath, began to walk toward the parlor.em ¬© 2014 by Nom de Plume em * Missy, are you still there? Please don’t hang up on me! I’m here. I really want to see you. I don’t know, Ron…let me sleep on it, okay? Sure, Missy, whatever you say. Can I call you tomorrow? Okay. Bye Ron. I hung up before he could say goodbye. For a moment, I was actually going to give in to him! It did sound so tempting to just take off my ruined dress, throw on my nightie, and tuck myself into bed, to awaken tomorrow as a woman with a man in her life. But the left side of my brain was screaming at me: get out of these stupid clothes now, before it’s too late! Which is what I did. First, I

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poured myself the last of the wine. After I drank it down, I scrubbed off my makeup, removed the polish from my nails, and put my wig back into the plastic container it traveled in. Then, after taking off my dress, lingerie and stockings, I had a long, hot shower, wiping away my last remnants of femininity. A man once more, I wrapped myself in the bathrobe that Missy had used, and quickly went to work stuffing my extra suitcase with all of her shoes, clothing and makeup. I was just giving the room a final inspection when there was a sharp knock on my door. I put Missy’s suitcase in the closet before I opened it an inch. Who is it? Chicago Police. May we come in? I opened the door to find two plainclothes detectives, both middle-aged men with tired faces. What’s going on? I asked them. We’re sorry to disturb you, the taller one said, while his cohort circumnavigated my room with his sharp eyes. I stood there in my bathrobe, my hair still wet, with a confused expression on my face. I heard some cops out in the hall a little while ag

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o. What’s going on? I repeated. How long have you been in your room? the tall one asked. I’ve been here all night. What the fuck is going on? I asked again, sounding angry this time. Sorry sir, we’re following up on an investigation into a homicide. A homicide? Here at the hotel? I asked incredulously. Yes. Did you see, or hear, anything unusual this evening? Other than the cops going up and down the hall about a half hour ago, nothing. Who got killed? The detective deflected my question. So you didn’t let anyone in your room? No, other than the room service waiter. I motioned over to the trolley, which was covered with my half-eaten plate of stroganoff and an empty bottle of wine. The shorter one scribbled something in a notepad. And when was that, sir? I don’t know, sometime before the cops showed up. You can probably find out by checking with room service, I added helpfully. As close to an alibi as I could hope for. We will. And there was nothing else unusual tonight? No sounds of a struggle, or anything like that? No. I wish y

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ou’d tell me what happened tonight. Sir, we’re just starting our investigation. Sorry to have disturbed you. The taller one handed me his card. Please feel free to contact us if you think of anything. Goodnight. As soon as they were both out the door, I bolted and chained it shut, and collapsed onto the bed. Thank God I’d moved fast! A glance at the clock on the nightstand told me it was almost ten, and I turned on the local news to wait for any bulletins about a killing at the Intercontinental. It was the lead story. * * * I was up early the next morning. It may seem surprising that I was able to sleep at all, but a bottle of wine and a unisom did the trick. It was a little after six when I presented myself to the front desk and told the girl behind the counter that I was leaving a day early. Was everything all right? she asked. Other than the cops waking me up to grill me about a murder at your hotel, no problems. I’m so sorry, sir! It’s been a crazy night…. I can imagine. I slipped her a five dollar bill. Would you see to it

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that this gets to the room service waiter who brought me my dinner last night, before all the fun started? Surely. I hope you’ll be back soon, she said after she handed me back my credit card. I thanked her and lugged my suitcases to the front door, where a doorman quickly summoned a taxi. Airport, sir? he asked. Yes, I told him. Then, after the cabbie was underway, I leaned forward and told him, I must be half asleep. Did I tell him I was going to the airport? Yes, sir. O’Hare or Midway? Neither. Sorry. The Palmer House, please. The cabbie shrugged and got into a left turn lane. In a few minutes, I was checking into my new hotel. I’d requested an early check-in, and the Palmer House was ready for me. At a few minutes past seven, I was hanging up my skirts and dresses again, and my chickphone was back on. I turned on the TV, and found the local news. They lead with the same story as last night: Chicago police are tightlipped about two murders which took place at two of the city’s top hotels this week. On Monday night, a man dresse

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d as a woman was found stabbed to death in his room at the Sheraton, and last night, a man was discovered dead in a hallway at the Intercontinental. According to sources at the Sheraton, robbery may have been the motive for the first slaying, but few details have been released about the victim at the Intercontinental. Two hotel guests, a man and a woman from Indiana, reported discovering a body on their way back to their room after dinner last night. The victim was reported to be a well-dressed man about thirty years old with a cut throat. I wondered how much more the police had learned, and weren’t saying. They must know Gregg’s identity, assuming he was carrying a wallet with him. How long until they showed his picture to hotel employees, and learned that he was at the lobby bar last night with an attractive brunette? I tried to remember if there were security cameras in the hotel lobby, or the elevator, where I kissed him…the memory of that made me shudder. Was I really going to let Missy out of the closet again? I was having

second thoughts when my chickphone rang. Hi Ron, I said, switching instinctively to my female voice. Good morning. I hope it’s not too early. I’ve been up for hours. I haven’t gotten much sleep. Between worrying about my kid, and worrying about us…. I have to tell you honestly Ron, that I’d written you off after you stood me up last night. I’m sure you did. And I’m just not sure I feel the same way now, about seeing you I mean. Look, why don’t we meet for coffee this morning. At least give me the opportunity to apologize in person. I’m not sure…. What the heck, I had nothing to do today, and in spite of all I’d been through, my inner woman was yearning to break free again. I guess. You will? That’s great. I’m tied up till around ten, how about after that? OK. I’ll text you where to meet me. Aren’t you at the Intercontinental? I checked out. It’s a long story. Okay Missy. I’ll wait for your text. Bye. * * * Three hours later, I walked into a Starbucks in the Loop near my hotel. On a whim, I’d decided to dress down this morning

, wearing my plaid skirt and knee sox with a short sleeve turtleneck. I looked, and felt, cute. I was deliberately late, and I’d already conditioned my

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