nytklee
Registered User
- Joined
- Apr 5, 2025
- Messages
- 8
- Points
- 3
After therapy (2/3) (fm/m, m/m, crossdressing, nylon, noncon)
----------
The following week, Daniel stood outside Dr. Elise Harper’s office, his heart hammering against his ribcage. Her instructions from their last session echoed in his mind: “Next time, wear your sexiest outfit. No hiding, Daniel. I want to see the real you.” He’d spent hours agonizing over it, torn between shame and the strange pull of her command. In the end, he’d given in, slipping into a sheer black nightdress that hugged his frame like a second skin, the fabric so thin it left little to the imagination. Beneath it, black sheer pantyhose shimmered over his legs, the glossy nylon catching every flicker of light. On his feet, a pair of black stilettos with five-inch heels clicked nervously against the pavement. He’d gone all out with the makeup too—smoky eyeshadow, thick mascara, and a deep red lipstick that made his lips look plump and inviting. Staring at himself in the mirror before leaving, he’d barely recognized the sultry figure gazing back. Delicious, yes, but vulnerable too.
When he stepped into the office, Dr. Harper was waiting, leaning against her desk with that same predatory smile. Today, she wore a fitted gray dress that clung to her curves, the hem riding just high enough to show off the tops of her thigh-high stockings, paired with glossy black pumps. Her eyes raked over him, slow and deliberate, lingering on the way the nightdress clung to his hips and the sheen of his pantyhose.
“Well, well,” she purred, her voice dripping with dark honey. “Look at you. That outfit’s going to get you in big trouble, darling.”
Daniel shifted, the heels forcing his posture into a delicate arch, his cheeks burning under the heavy makeup. “I… I wasn’t sure if this was too much,” he mumbled, tugging at the hem of the nightdress.
“Too much?” She laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down his spine. “Oh, no. It’s perfect. Come with me.”
She turned and led him through a side door he hadn’t noticed before, her hips swaying with every step. The door opened into a narrow hallway, and at the end, she unlocked another—a heavy, steel thing that creaked ominously. Inside was a secret room, soundproofed with padded walls and dim, amber lighting that cast long shadows. In the center stood a padded bench, surrounded by an array of bondage equipment: ropes, cuffs, straps, and a few things Daniel couldn’t even name. His breath caught as he spotted Joe, lounging against the wall, his dark eyes lighting up when they landed on Daniel.
“Fuck me,” Joe said, pushing off the wall with a grin. “You’re a goddamn vision, man. Those legs in that nylon? I’m already losing it.”
Dr. Harper smirked, closing the door behind them with a soft click. “Joe’s been waiting for this. Haven’t you?”
“Damn right,” Joe replied, cracking his knuckles as he stepped closer. He was taller than Daniel remembered, broad-shouldered and rough around the edges, wearing a tight black t-shirt and jeans that did little to hide his excitement. “Let’s get you set up, princess.”
Daniel’s stomach flipped, but Dr. Harper’s hand on his lower back nudged him forward. “On the bench,” she ordered, her tone firm but laced with a teasing edge. “Face down.”
He hesitated, the heels wobbling slightly as he moved, but he obeyed, lowering himself onto the cool leather. The nightdress rode up as he settled, exposing the tops of his thighs where the pantyhose met bare skin. Joe wasted no time, grabbing a coil of soft, white rope from the pile. He started at Daniel’s wrists, pulling them behind his back and tying them tight, the rope biting just enough to make Daniel squirm.
“Too tight?” Joe asked, his voice low and rough as he leaned close, his breath hot against Daniel’s ear.
“N-no,” Daniel stammered, his face pressed into the bench, the scent of leather filling his nose.
“Good.” Joe moved to his ankles next, looping the rope around them and securing them to the bench’s metal rings, forcing Daniel’s legs to stretch out behind him. The position arched his feet upward, the heels dangling precariously, the nylon taut over his soles. Joe ran a finger along the edge of one stiletto, then slipped it off, letting it clatter to the floor. The second followed, leaving Daniel’s nylon-clad feet bare and exposed.
“Look at these,” Joe murmured, almost to himself, his hands hovering over Daniel’s feet. “Fucking perfect.”
Dr. Harper stepped into view, perching on a stool nearby, her legs crossed so the hem of her dress slid higher. “Go ahead, Joe,” she said, her voice smooth and commanding. “Break him.”
Joe didn’t need to be told twice. His fingers descended, brushing lightly along the arch of Daniel’s left foot, the nylon making the touch slick and unbearable. Daniel jolted, a choked laugh spilling out as his body instinctively tugged against the ropes.
“Ticklish, huh?” Joe grinned, his fingers dancing faster, tracing the seams of the pantyhose from heel to toe. “God, this nylon feels so good. You’re killing me here.”
“Stop—oh God, please,” Daniel gasped, his voice cracking as Joe’s nails scraped lightly over the ball of his foot, the sensation amplified by the sheer fabric. His legs strained, but the ropes held firm, leaving him helpless.
“Not a chance,” Joe said, his tone playful but relentless. He switched to both hands, one tickling each foot, his fingers swirling in maddening patterns—under the toes, along the arches, then back to the heels. The nylon heightened every touch, turning the torment into something electric, overwhelming. Daniel’s laughter turned ragged, his body shaking as he twisted against the bench.
“Fuck, you’re loud,” Joe laughed, digging in harder, his thumbs pressing into the tender spots just below Daniel’s toes. “Bet you’ve never had it this bad, huh?”
Daniel couldn’t answer, his breath coming in short, desperate bursts, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes behind the smudged mascara. The room spun, the tickling relentless, his nerves screaming as Joe’s fingers found every weak spot. Dr. Harper watched, her lips parted slightly, her eyes gleaming with something dark and fascinated.
“Keep going,” she said softly, almost to herself. “He’s close.”
Joe grinned, shifting his approach—light, teasing strokes one moment, then sudden, firm scratches the next, the nylon amplifying the chaos. Daniel’s laughter morphed into gasps, then silence as his body locked up, overwhelmed. His vision blurred, the amber light fading to black as his head lolled forward, consciousness slipping away under the onslaught.
When he came to, he was still on the bench, the ropes loosened but not removed, his feet tingling faintly beneath the damp nylon. Joe was sprawled on the floor nearby, catching his breath, while Dr. Harper stood over him, her heels clicking as she adjusted her dress.
“Welcome back,” she said, her voice a sultry murmur. “That was… intense, wasn’t it?”
----------
To be continue......
----------
The following week, Daniel stood outside Dr. Elise Harper’s office, his heart hammering against his ribcage. Her instructions from their last session echoed in his mind: “Next time, wear your sexiest outfit. No hiding, Daniel. I want to see the real you.” He’d spent hours agonizing over it, torn between shame and the strange pull of her command. In the end, he’d given in, slipping into a sheer black nightdress that hugged his frame like a second skin, the fabric so thin it left little to the imagination. Beneath it, black sheer pantyhose shimmered over his legs, the glossy nylon catching every flicker of light. On his feet, a pair of black stilettos with five-inch heels clicked nervously against the pavement. He’d gone all out with the makeup too—smoky eyeshadow, thick mascara, and a deep red lipstick that made his lips look plump and inviting. Staring at himself in the mirror before leaving, he’d barely recognized the sultry figure gazing back. Delicious, yes, but vulnerable too.
When he stepped into the office, Dr. Harper was waiting, leaning against her desk with that same predatory smile. Today, she wore a fitted gray dress that clung to her curves, the hem riding just high enough to show off the tops of her thigh-high stockings, paired with glossy black pumps. Her eyes raked over him, slow and deliberate, lingering on the way the nightdress clung to his hips and the sheen of his pantyhose.
“Well, well,” she purred, her voice dripping with dark honey. “Look at you. That outfit’s going to get you in big trouble, darling.”
Daniel shifted, the heels forcing his posture into a delicate arch, his cheeks burning under the heavy makeup. “I… I wasn’t sure if this was too much,” he mumbled, tugging at the hem of the nightdress.
“Too much?” She laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down his spine. “Oh, no. It’s perfect. Come with me.”
She turned and led him through a side door he hadn’t noticed before, her hips swaying with every step. The door opened into a narrow hallway, and at the end, she unlocked another—a heavy, steel thing that creaked ominously. Inside was a secret room, soundproofed with padded walls and dim, amber lighting that cast long shadows. In the center stood a padded bench, surrounded by an array of bondage equipment: ropes, cuffs, straps, and a few things Daniel couldn’t even name. His breath caught as he spotted Joe, lounging against the wall, his dark eyes lighting up when they landed on Daniel.
“Fuck me,” Joe said, pushing off the wall with a grin. “You’re a goddamn vision, man. Those legs in that nylon? I’m already losing it.”
Dr. Harper smirked, closing the door behind them with a soft click. “Joe’s been waiting for this. Haven’t you?”
“Damn right,” Joe replied, cracking his knuckles as he stepped closer. He was taller than Daniel remembered, broad-shouldered and rough around the edges, wearing a tight black t-shirt and jeans that did little to hide his excitement. “Let’s get you set up, princess.”
Daniel’s stomach flipped, but Dr. Harper’s hand on his lower back nudged him forward. “On the bench,” she ordered, her tone firm but laced with a teasing edge. “Face down.”
He hesitated, the heels wobbling slightly as he moved, but he obeyed, lowering himself onto the cool leather. The nightdress rode up as he settled, exposing the tops of his thighs where the pantyhose met bare skin. Joe wasted no time, grabbing a coil of soft, white rope from the pile. He started at Daniel’s wrists, pulling them behind his back and tying them tight, the rope biting just enough to make Daniel squirm.
“Too tight?” Joe asked, his voice low and rough as he leaned close, his breath hot against Daniel’s ear.
“N-no,” Daniel stammered, his face pressed into the bench, the scent of leather filling his nose.
“Good.” Joe moved to his ankles next, looping the rope around them and securing them to the bench’s metal rings, forcing Daniel’s legs to stretch out behind him. The position arched his feet upward, the heels dangling precariously, the nylon taut over his soles. Joe ran a finger along the edge of one stiletto, then slipped it off, letting it clatter to the floor. The second followed, leaving Daniel’s nylon-clad feet bare and exposed.
“Look at these,” Joe murmured, almost to himself, his hands hovering over Daniel’s feet. “Fucking perfect.”
Dr. Harper stepped into view, perching on a stool nearby, her legs crossed so the hem of her dress slid higher. “Go ahead, Joe,” she said, her voice smooth and commanding. “Break him.”
Joe didn’t need to be told twice. His fingers descended, brushing lightly along the arch of Daniel’s left foot, the nylon making the touch slick and unbearable. Daniel jolted, a choked laugh spilling out as his body instinctively tugged against the ropes.
“Ticklish, huh?” Joe grinned, his fingers dancing faster, tracing the seams of the pantyhose from heel to toe. “God, this nylon feels so good. You’re killing me here.”
“Stop—oh God, please,” Daniel gasped, his voice cracking as Joe’s nails scraped lightly over the ball of his foot, the sensation amplified by the sheer fabric. His legs strained, but the ropes held firm, leaving him helpless.
“Not a chance,” Joe said, his tone playful but relentless. He switched to both hands, one tickling each foot, his fingers swirling in maddening patterns—under the toes, along the arches, then back to the heels. The nylon heightened every touch, turning the torment into something electric, overwhelming. Daniel’s laughter turned ragged, his body shaking as he twisted against the bench.
“Fuck, you’re loud,” Joe laughed, digging in harder, his thumbs pressing into the tender spots just below Daniel’s toes. “Bet you’ve never had it this bad, huh?”
Daniel couldn’t answer, his breath coming in short, desperate bursts, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes behind the smudged mascara. The room spun, the tickling relentless, his nerves screaming as Joe’s fingers found every weak spot. Dr. Harper watched, her lips parted slightly, her eyes gleaming with something dark and fascinated.
“Keep going,” she said softly, almost to herself. “He’s close.”
Joe grinned, shifting his approach—light, teasing strokes one moment, then sudden, firm scratches the next, the nylon amplifying the chaos. Daniel’s laughter morphed into gasps, then silence as his body locked up, overwhelmed. His vision blurred, the amber light fading to black as his head lolled forward, consciousness slipping away under the onslaught.
When he came to, he was still on the bench, the ropes loosened but not removed, his feet tingling faintly beneath the damp nylon. Joe was sprawled on the floor nearby, catching his breath, while Dr. Harper stood over him, her heels clicking as she adjusted her dress.
“Welcome back,” she said, her voice a sultry murmur. “That was… intense, wasn’t it?”
----------
To be continue......
