Ghost Mistress

Everybody knows that estate auctions are a crap shoot. A lot of the time, you wind up bidding on things that you never intended to buy, but wind up lugging them home anyway since they were part of the auctioneer's impromptu "set."

To be fair, it was a nice clothing trunk – it had the telltale signs of hard use, but it was still in excellent condition otherwise, plus it still had the key for its locking lid. It seemed nothing at the time, but it was as if I couldn't stop myself from bidding on the trunk, my hand being drawn aloft each time I got outbid. The trunk wound up costing me a little more than I would have originally spent, but it was still a reasonable price after the other bidders dropped out.

The strangeness started after I got it home. It was fairly late by the time I returned, so I simply lugged the trunk into living room of my bachelor apartment. I noted that the trunk certainly wasn't empty, but I was too tired that night to care. I had just enough energy to strip and fall into my bed.

That night, I had a vivid dream of a tall and seductive woman with long black hair and a pale complexion. She was dressed in transparent body stocking the color of smoke with a black satin corset worn over it. I seemed to be rooted to ground, unable to move or speak as she stood before me, looking down upon me. Her green eyes regarded me coolly, yet there was a fire there, warm and alive as she looked me over. Her full red lips glistened with fresh lipstick. I watched her mouth move, but could hear no worlds. And then she smiled at me...

...and I awoke just in time to meet the floor. I had become tangled in my bedding during the night and had rolled off. I noticed that I had a very hard erection as I untangled myself and headed to the shower.

After I cleaned up and had a quick bite of breakfast, I turned my attention to the trunk. I pulled an old wooden straight chair from the kitchen up to the trunk, sat down and went to work on its lock. It took a couple of tries to get the stately post and flange key to turn the old tumbler lock, but as soon as it was done, I carefully lifted the lid. Even as I did so, I caught just the faintest hint of exotic perfume, but it was gone almost as quickly as I detected it.

My eyes widened as the light caught the uppermost layer of its contents. Silky lingerie shimmered in the morning light – panties, bras, stockings, garter belts, corsets, slips and more lay there. All of it was fairly modern pieces of clothing – some of it vaguely familiar, as if I'd seen it on a model in some mens magazine a year or two before. A sudden wave of desire surged through me, and before I truly aware of what I was doing, I had closed the lid again and made sure all of the shades were drawn.

I'd always had a sense of fascination with lingerie, as some of my first sexual fantasies involved the women in the lingerie section of a department store catalog. When the upscale intimates stores and cosmetics buy-at-home franchises began printing catalogs in my teens, I amassed quite a collection.

At times, when I could shop some distance from my home town, I even made purchases of those forbidden pleasures – to be worn and enjoyed for a night or two, and then disposed of as the urge and the novelty wore off. When I had intimate friends, I would buy them beautiful and sexy lingerie to wear, though none of the relationships ever seemed to last.

When I returned to the trunk, I gently lifted the lid again. I don't know how long I just sat there staring at the contents, but the longer I stared, the more I wanted to put something from the trunk on. Eventually, I settled on a pair of relatively plain black nylon panties.

My heart was pounding as I held them up, fondling the slick translucent fabric in my fingers. I quickly kicked off my own cotton briefs and I slipped the panties on, slowly drawing them up my legs until they settled around my hips. The fabric was sinfully soft and deliciously smooth, caressing my skin, gently embracing my hips and buttocks.

The reaction from my manhood was surprisingly strong. My erection was rapidly distending the front panel of the panties as the head of my cock strained against the fabric. For a fleeting instant, it felt as if I belonged in these beautiful things – like I was always meant to wear them.

I stood there watching my erection mount in its silken cocoon, seemingly unable to do anything but watch it happen. Suddenly, I felt very silly, standing there – I should just take them off and find somewhere to stow the rest of the unmentionables. I started to remove the panties, when I realized I couldn't.

I twisted my head and arms around and saw that a stocking from the trunk had somehow twined itself around my wrists in a perfect tangle. I made an exclamation of surprise, and then sought to shake myself free.

Surprisingly, my wrists stayed bound.

A closer look showed me that the ends of the stocking had been tied in a sophisticated knot that held fast despite all of my struggles. The deceptively sheer smoke-colored fabric was gentle against my skin when I kept my wrists still, but refused to yield to my most earnest attempts to escape, stretching but not tearing.

I sat down on the chair again to contemplate how to best attack the knot with my exposed fingers. That's when I realized that my erection hadn't faded. Somehow, my predicament had only made the whole business of wearing panties even more erotic. The temptation to give into the desire I felt for release kept getting stronger.

**Yes, my darling – make it hard for Mistress. Mistress likes it when you are so hard...**

I shook my head. The voice had been sultry and feminine, and seemed to have come from nowhere and everywhere at once. I tried turning my attention to the problem of the knot, only to find my wrists were now tethered to the back of the chair!

I twisted around further and saw that the matching stocking to the one imprisoning my wrists had somehow looped over that one and had secured my wrists to the bottom slat of the straight chair's back. The knot holding my wrists together was now shrouded by the fabric of the second stocking and the knot had been tied behind the slat, almost completely out of my reach.

Fortunately, the chair didn't weigh more than I could lift, even in this awkward position, so I figured on risking a little embarrassment by parading in front of the kitchen windows like this. There had to be a sharp knife somewhere within my limited reach to cut this stubborn prison of silky fabric off of me. Besides, my erection was getting in more urgent need of release as the panty fabric seemed to mold perfectly to the head of my erect member.

**Mistress likes to watch you struggle, darling. She knows you don't really wish to escape...**

I found myself looking at the small analog clock mounted on the opposite wall. Every time I heard the voice, it seemed like the clock would jump ahead a few minutes. With a new urgency, I started to rise from the chair, intent on dragging it by my bound hands to the kitchen...

...Only to find my legs were tethered by their ankles so that my toes could only barely touch the floor. A bit of twisting in the chair confirmed that a pair of sheer nylon pantyhose had wrapped themselves around the upper part of the back legs of the chair, with the legs crossing over each other to snare the opposite ankle in those highly effective knots that had imprisoned my wrists. The leggings had been drawn taut, pulling my feet back until I could only brush the wooden floor with my toes.

I squirmed and fought against my bonds for a moment, out of nothing more than complete frustration and confusion. The knotted filmy fabrics held me fast as the silky panties continued to caress and tease my genitals, urging them on to what promised to be an incredible climax.

The situation was frustrating, even humiliating – immobilized by the flimsiest of bonds and taunted by an invisible antagonist who seemed to be enjoying my predicament. And all the while, being completely unable to quell the surging desire in my loins as those same soft, sexy bonds played on my long history of private perversion. It was if my antagonist knew my innermost secrets and fantasies and was playing them against me.

"What the hell is going on?" I said in exasperation.

**Mistress did not give you permission to speak, darling.**

I tried to reply, only to find that it was no longer possible. Somehow, my mouth was stuffed with a wad of panties and a soft band of silky material had been stretched taut over the lower portion of my face, from the bridge of my nose to just under my chin. My best efforts at making noise came out a soft moan of indignation and exhalation through my nose of frustration.

My balls and cock were aching now, as if each new bond was more wonderfully erotic than anything else I'd ever done or imagined. My struggles only made me want to cum even more. The sensation of being silenced, made helpless and stimulated by these flimsy things became more desirable each second.

**You are making Mistress so happy, darling. Now submit to your passion and fuck those panties like a lover! Cum for Mistress, darling – cum for Mistress now!**

My hips bucked at the urging of the voice, each spasm of pleasure spilling my seed in the panties while the gag stifled my moans of pleasure. Immobilized and stimulated, my limbs twitched and strained against their bonds only to be softly, yet firmly held in place, the fabric stretching and rebounding in synchronization with my movements.

It seemed like a long time before my orgasm passed, but after it had, I sagged in the bonds, breathing deeply through my nose until my heart rate slowed. At last, I opened my eyes and found myself still bound to the chair. I made some attempt to struggle against the bonds, but quit after confirming that I was held just as fast as before.

**Mistress knows you are special, darling – that your needs are unique, as are Mine. That is why I chose you – made you bid on the trunk when you were ready to let it go.**

I opened my eyes again, noticing the clock had run ahead a few more minutes. That's when I noticed my hands and legs were free. I still wore the black panties and the gag remained in place. I stood and looked for them, finding them in a pile beneath the chair.

I reached up to remove the gag, but stopped as my fingers brushed the smooth overwrap. Perhaps it hadn't been removed because I still didn't have permission to speak. I stooped and picked up the stockings and pantyhose. I was expecting both to be stretched out and sweaty from my exertions, but they remained pristine, as if fresh from the store.

I also noticed that the panties seemed as fresh as when I had put them on – a quick inspection from outside and inside showed none of my seed remained and they were dry and smooth to the touch.

**Mistress needs your seed, darling, if I am ever to become corporeal again. Would you like Mistress to be real instead of just a voice in your head?**

I nodded – of course I would!

**Thank you, darling! But I must warn you – Mistress can be demanding sometimes. I will want to control you completely and have you desire Me alone. Do you think you can do that?**

I hesitated for just a second before nodding slowly again.

**Oh darling, I am so happy! Now, here is Mistress' first command to you: you will wear the panties you selected for the rest of this day, and also wear them to bed tonight. No matter how much you wish to pleasure yourself while wearing them, you will not. Do this for Mistress and I will visit you again tonight in your dreams.**

I nodded again, noticing that the gag and the stuffing had been removed. I took a deep breath and stretched. Then I closed the trunk, locking the lid. I kept the key with me as I sauntered off to my bedroom to find some clothes to wear over my new "foundation."

I reflected that it was going to be an interesting day.