Clothes Maketh The Man – Part 48.

When I think back to the events of that day, I think it was Devina’s cold look of appraisal as I was being so heartlessly used that I found most haunting. I had seen on the video the way she observed quietly, making discrete comments now and then to the other man in the room. I was, of course, completely unaware of their presence.

I can only assume Melissa and Alice went off somewhere for reasons of their own. I silently left the building, my mind rushing through what I had discovered. What it could mean I had no idea.

The video showed me clearly, almost like an examination. Some sort of test. The presence of Devina and her colleague were clearly meant to be unknown to me. I found Devina’s words quite haunting.

“Did you notice the way the moment she see’s a cock her mouth immediately opens? She can’t help it. It’s a reflex action now. Totally embedded in Andrea’s subconscious. She’s going to be very useful.” She laughed a little.

What could she mean? Of course, it was complete nonsense. I certainly did not open my mouth when I saw a cock. How ridiculous. Anyone would think Devina had trained me into some subconscious response driven by primal instincts. Did she really think I was unable to control the reflex response to the presence of cock?

It occurred to me that Devina wasn’t regarding me with the same affection and respect that I felt for her. I brushed of the thought knowing that if I presented myself in the correct way to her she would soften.  There would doubtless come a time when she would see me favorably. After all, I am not a person that is without self respect and dignity.

I straightened the dress I was wearing and adjusted the chastity device that enclosed my genitals. I didn’t want to look untidy as I hurried from the deserted building. Putting on some sunglasses I stepped out into the daylight and hurried back to my car.


Devina had mentioned that she had something lined up for the weekend. I checked my phone and could see that I had nothing going on. Friday was clear too. I’d treat myself to a spa day, I decided, in preparation for whatever Devina had lined up.

Thoughts of what I had discovered played across my mind as I drove homeward. What did Devina mean when she’d referred to me as ‘profitable’? It was most perplexing.

I stopped at a gas station before arriving home, and filled my tank. The sunshine on my dress and the patent leather of my heels lifted my spirits and I couldn’t help but smile to myself. As I watched the numbers click by I glanced at the vehicle ahead of mine on the forecourt. A bright red little sports model, the driver a young man walking back from the cashier where he’d bought a Coke. I barely noticed his nicely cut shirt and jeans. Well, perhaps that’s not quite true. I couldn’t help my eyes drifting down toward his waist. He had a nice belt buckle. Looking at his firm body I guessed he must spend a lot of time working out.

He looked up and caught me staring and I swiftly turned to study the figures on the gas pump. My tank full, I removed the nozzle of the pump and turned the gas cap. I glanced up at the man, and in doing I fumbled the gas cap and it fell from my grasp.

The bright metal cap hit the ground and rolled slowly toward the car in front. It came to rest at the feet of the handsome young man, and I hurriedly stepped forward and bent down to retrieve it. As I did so the young man saw the cap and dropped to one knee to pick it up. I nearly hit his head as I came up short.

“How embarrassing,” I said.

“Not at all,” he replied with a smile. He then held out the cap. As my hand closed around it our eyes locked. I felt a thrill of excitement as he held the cap in his hand a little longer than necessary.

I felt my heart rush as I stared at him. I tried to say something but my words didn’t come. Beneath my freshly applied makeup I felt myself reddening, and I turned away.

“You know, you must be more careful,” he said with a quiet confidence. “You wouldn’t want to loose that.”

“No,” I replied regain myself but still feeling flustered. Our hands seemed to linger touching a little longer.

“I don’t usually drop things,” I said. “I mean…” My words seemed to tumble over each other.

I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. I found my eyes dropping to his waistline again, and the jeans. They were quite tight, and as I stared I found myself breathing hard.

For a brief moment it seemed that time was standing still. Perhaps you know the feeling. It’s one that is experienced and seems to end in a flash, but in the moment of it’s happening feels completely surreal. In that momentary glimpse at insight I seemed to see myself staring at the man’s pants. It was as though I was watching from a short distance, and there I was a simpering idiot before this handsome young man, my head bowed, my knees pressed tightly together, toes pointed inward and my mouth open involuntarily.

I licked my lips in anticipation. God, he must have a wonderful cock.

And as quickly as it had materialised the moment was gone. The man gave me one more smile and then quietly turned and got into his sporty little car.


At home I calmed myself. This was ridiculous. I was not some cock hungry slut. My behaviour was disturbing, until for a moment I stopped and thought, “is this what it’s meant to be like? Is this what lust really feels like? Have I just never experienced it before?

In that moment I cursed the cage I was trapped within. If there was a moment a girl needed release, this was it. I groaned in frustration, still seeing those perfect jeans before me. And the way he’d bent down to pick up the gas cap. The way the jeans had framed that perfect ass. In my mind I played the tape over and over, and my frustration grew. This was almost intolerable.

How could this be? I’d just spent the afternoon with two beautiful, if psychotically sadistic women. How could I be fantasizing about that beautiful man?

I found myself licking my lips once more, hungrily thinking of him, wishing he would push into my throat and drive himself to completion so that I could drink him down fully, satisfyingly and warmly into my belly. I could almost feel him  dribbling from my lips.

I pulled myself out of my reverie. I’d never before just let go and let my mind run like this. Where it had run to I found confusing and shameful. I forced myself to think of work. This had to stop.


I slept fitfully that night, my mind awash with questions. Somewhere far off I thought I heard Devina’s voice, and when I sat up in bed, still half asleep, it seemed for a moment she were there. But as my wits returned to me I found I was sitting in my bed, the dark apartment silent around me.

I lay back down, and on closing my eyes the fog of sleep returned. I continued to toss and turn, my mind troubled by events I could not have known.

And yet, if I had known what was coming my mind would have been still more tortured. But that will have to wait until the next episode of Clothes Maketh The Man.

The next episode is available here.

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