I've been following that mysterious, glamourous, long-legged goddess around now for days, and it's getting harder and harder on my leg. I just can't keep up. Her legs are at least twice as long as mine, and unlike mine, they're svelte and muscular and perfectly shaped and functional. I don't think that she's noticed me. Somehow, she hasn't seen the limping troll trailing her everywhere she goes. I thought I'd be a bit more noticeable than that. But no. She's got better things to do, I'm sure.
I've learned a lot about her in my stalking. She seems awfully attached to some geek in the classier part of town. Come to think of it, I'm not entirely sure where he lives.
Anyway, I've found something out about him: he gallavants around the city in tights fighting crime. He's the famous Cockroach man: invincible with his cockroach like ability to withstand the most treacherous forces of nature, his proportional speed and strength, his keen sense of smell, and his astounding ability to adapt quickly. He has put more petty criminals--and arch-criminals, too--behind bars than the entire police force. But what a snotty little prick. If not for those super powers, I'd crush him under my foot and run off with that goddess, who probably has no clue about his little secret.
I found out in a fit of jealousy. I wanted to break his house apart when he was gone. I wanted to trash the place. He thinks he's so hot with all that money and all those women fawning over him. I waited for him to leave, and I managed to break into his house. The cocky bastard doesn't even bother locking his doors. Now that I think of it, why should he? He's a super crimefighter, after all.
Anyway, I was going to scout the place out, look for anything that I could use to ruin him, or to use against him in order to win that wonderfully beautiful woman of his. When I got into his closet, I was amazed to discover the tights that had made him famous. I had found the lair of the Cockroach man. I ran screaming out of that place as if it were infested. But I knew his secret, and I was ready to use it against him.
I thought of selling my tidbit of information to the government, or to one of those crazy scientists living in the hills outside of town. But then I realized that I'd probably be better off blackmailing him with that little secret. I wonder how much he'd pay to protect his secret identity.
It was pretty easy, actually. All I'd have to do is steal his outfit. He'd be ridiculous without it. Sure, he'd more than likely still have his super powers, but who the Hell cares? I didn't think he'd have the guts to come right out and admit to running around like some kinda freak in his garish reddish leotards.
Amazingly, and wouldn't you know it, just as I snuck into his closet, he came home. Not only that, he came home with that sex queen that I've been following around.
In short, she found me out, and she hid me. She didn't give me away. I don't know why. She managed to sneak me out of there quietly enough, without him noticing. "Meet me in the park at midnight," she hissed at me as I clambered down the front of the house.
She's a brave woman. She kept her appointment. She was alone, all alone at that hour in a crime-infested part of town, and wearing a tight little minidress. Unmolested. The cockroach must be watching over her, I thought. But I went ahead anyway.
I found myself in her apartment. It was a dream come true. She was so hot. She brought me to her bedroom, but, to my surprise, she left without a word, swinging her ass as she walked out seductively. She stuck her head back in. "Why don't you pick an outfit out for me," she purred, "And make it something skimpy and easy to remove."
I opened her closet, and my jaw dropped. I couldn't believe all the sexy lingerie she had hanging in there. Then I noticed the leotards: sleek, skimpy, black. My heart stopped momentarily when I realized that I had found the identity of the infamous Mindbender. I tried to sprint out of the room, but somehow, I knew that she was monitoring my thoughts. As if to confirm my suspicion, she grabbed me from across the room with her telekinesis and easily halted my movement. She took off what she was wearing right in front of me to reveal her outfit for me. She was even more stunning in person than on the news or in photos. Perfect athletic body, with all the yummy feminine parts that most women dream of having. She was absolutely gorgeous. But she was also a very, very bad person.
She took hold of my actions. I could no longer control my body. I prostrated myself at her feet, and began sucking them. She was laughing at me, even as she controlled my actions. She stood me up, and had me remove all my clothes. Here I was, naked in front of her, totally unable to resist her. I felt her telekinetic energies jerking me off, and doing it so well that I was overcome with pleasure, and embarrassed at the same time. I didn't want her to do this to me. I felt like I was being raped. She stopped just as I was losing it. "You like me so much," she giggled, "that you're almost coming where you stand!"
My heart pounded like a hammer on an anvil. She released me and let me fall to my knees. "I'm letting you have your own free will again. What do you want to do?"
I desperately wanted to escape. I hoped that she was happy to have made me feel like a weakling, and that she would allow me to run away naked, never to come near her again. I started to bolt.
Unfortunately, she was just playing games with me. She made me stop right at her door.
"Is that how to treat a lady?" she asked. She was sitting on her throne, devilishly toying with me. "If you try that again, I'll destroy you." And I knew from the look in her eye that she meant it.
"Now come here and give me a hug. And don't forget that if you don't, I not only can make you do it, but I can make you do other things, too."
She started rubbing her incredible body all over mine. It was ecstasy. I didn't even want to tear off her slinky tights. It felt so good to just feel her gyrating cunt through the spandex, and her whole firm and soft and round body writhing in my arms in sheer pleasure. She pushed me away suddenly, and rubbed my face into her crotch until she came. Her telekinetic powers were let loose as her body shook from orgasm, and she squeezed me violently and threw me down to the ground. Before she fell asleep, she went to the trouble of chaining me up to her wall as she brushed her teeth. I was still naked. And I wouldn't have escaped even if I had the chance.
The next day, she released me from my chains and told me to get dressed. I couldn't find my clothes anywhere. "What, didn't you pick something out from my closet, like I told you to last night?" She was petulant. I had incurred her displeasure. She took me by the scruff of my neck and pushed me back to the closet. "Choose an outfit. I can't have you running around naked, now, can I?
I stared, daunted, into her closet. Frilly corsets, silky teddies, pink, black, red, white, plum, panties, brassieres, garter belts, all kinds of sexy garments hung in front of me. I could feel her anger mounting. "Well?!?" she prompted.
"You mean, you want me to wear this?" I dared to ask.
"Of course I want you to wear that! You're my little bitch now, and you'll do as you're told. Or else I'll make you do something far less pleasant. Understand?"
Blindly, I grabbed something off the rack. It was a white satin teddy. I stood staring at it with incredulity. I couldn't fathom myself wearing it. Not in a million years.
"What the fuck are you waiting for?" she screamed, and I slipped it on, fearing her wrath.
I looked at my body, encased in lingerie. I was dumfounded.
"Now, don't you feel nice and sexy?"
"Um, I don't know," I stammered.
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"Well," I admitted, "I've never done this before."
"Haven't you ever been with a girl before?"
"Yes."
"Haven't you ever seen her in her underwear?"
"Yes."
"Haven't you ever wanted to see her parading around in her undies for you? Don't you think she feels sexy when she does that?"
"Well, I suppose so," I replied shyly. She herself was wearing underwear as she spoke, and she looked very sexy.
"So now you know what it's like to feel sexy, don't you?" She waited for an answer. "Don't you?"
I couldn't speak. I honestly didn't know how I felt. I was quite randy from just looking at her, and from the kinky situation I found myself in. And I think that she was massaging my genitals softly.
"Well then," she decided, "if you don't feel sexy, then we'll have to make you feel sexy, won't we?" With that, she began to telekinetically fondle me with even more vigour. She made me walk around against my will, made me walk like a woman, swinging my butt like a model. She was making me model her lingerie for her. The satin clung to me arousingly. I practically came right then and there. She dropped me suddenly, and I writhed on the floor, begging for more.
"That's more like it," she said.
I felt embarrassed. She was right: I had felt sexy, but in a way that I had never felt it before. I remembered that I was dressed in women's underwear.
She made me stay in it all day. I cleaned her house for her in her lingerie. She made me move like a girl the whole time, and it gave me a most embarrassing pleasure.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I moaned.
"Why not?"
The next day, I was begging for more. She didn't even have to force me, either. I eagerly looked through her closet for the sexiest things that I could find. I finally settled for a matching bra and panty with a garter belt and fishnet stockings. I pranced around willingly. I loved every second of it. The thought that she had worn it before me turned me on even more. I looked forward now every day to what I would try on the next. I tried it all on: bathing suits, bikinis, teddies, nighties, panties, everything. And she encouraged me every step of the way. I felt so intimate with her that I could share her underwear with her.
It was a bit different when she unexpectedly brought guests over without telling me. . .
