Meeting Miss Sally 4

Half an hour later, just after the waitress brought their second round, Mike finally seemed like he’d settled down a bit and at least gotten accustomed to the steady stream of party-goers greeting Sally and complementing them on their costumes, some more emphatically than others. It was time for the second act of this little play. She stood up and smiled down at him. “Alright, baby, Mommy has a little thing she needs to take care of. You be good girl while I’m gone?”

Mike was horrified. “Wait, where are you going, Mommy?!” he whined.

“The girls are going to dance for our VIP guests tonight, and I need to emcee for a little bit. I won’t be gone long, I promise.”

“But… what if I have to go to the bathroom?” he whisper-yelled, trying not to make a further spectacle of himself.

“Oh don’t worry. If you can’t wait until Mommy gets back, she has spares in her purse,” She patted her large handbag sitting next to him on the bench, kissed his forehead, and strode off through the crowd, then reappeared climbing the back stares onto the tall podium, thirty feet above the floor below, a number of girls following after and lining up at the stairs leading down onto the lighted stage. Morbidly curious, Mike peeked into the bag. Sure enough, there at the bottom lay two huge diapers and a travel-pack of wipes. He closed it up quickly and very self-consciously tugged at the hem of his dress. He tried to close his legs, but the bulk between them was far too massive for that to be comfortable. Crossing them was no help either, so he sighed and took a sip of his drink, blushing fiercely as he looked around the room.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Sally boomed into a wireless microphone, and the crowd quieted. “I want to thank you all for coming to our quiet little get-together here tonight. Hope everyone’s enjoying themselves!” A loud cheer erupted in response. “Wonderful! Well, of course, here at the Atlantis, it wouldn’t be much of a party if we didn’t have dancers, would it?” More rowdy approval from the crowd. “Then by all means, let’s hear it for Mandy and Melissa!” Another cheer rose, and the twins he’d seen grace this stage so many times together strutted down the staircase in matching sea-blue two-pieces with feathered masks across their eyes. Whistles and catcalls rose up from Pervert’s row as the two girls went into their well-rehearsed routine, and Mike, for the first time all night, managed to forget himself a little bit as he sipped his drink and stared at the beautiful bodies writhing in sync on the twin poles at center stage, then taking their turns attending to the dollar-waving men and women on Pervert’s Row.

Sally’s watchful eye remained locked on her fidgety little charge as she called off several more acts, a parade of women strutting down to the stage, working through their various routines, collecting their tips, then exiting directly into the crowd to offer their attention to those who weren’t close enough to get a proper show. She smiled as he went rigid when she called the next name, “Tiger Lilly!”

Aiko, or “Tiger Lilly”, wasn’t your average dancer, and while the crowd always found the Asian girls exotic and tipped them well, was hardly an average Asian girl. Tall, well-busted, and very toned, her acrobatic act on the pole was as big an attraction as her forceful dance routine, projecting her aggressive femininity that made the horny toad regulars melt in their seats. Of course, there was only one such “regular” in this crowd, and both Sally and Aiko were well aware of this fact. So while Mike trembled in his little dress and pigtails, Aiko locked her eyes on him during her entire set, save the few minutes she spent gathering up bills off the stage floor before exiting.

Mike, meanwhile, was transfixed while Tiger Lilly danced. He felt those eyes burn a hole straight through his middle, this powerful woman who molested him so many nights at home in his bourbon-soaked fantasies. And then, as she strutted down the side-stairs off the stage, the unthinkable happened. He quickly realized, he wasn’t just imagining Tiger Lilly staring at him, she really was, because she came straight for him once she hit the floor, in her leather bikini bottom, the top having been discarded during her routine, and her fishnets and knee-high boots. He trembled as she closed in and bent down to his eye level, a few tiny inches from his face.

“Are you being a good little girl?” she asked him seductively. Mike mouthed a few things, but all that came out were gasps, so he nodded his head nervously, his erection raging inside his diaper. “I bet you’d rather be a naughty one, wouldn’t you?” she asked, looking up and down his chest. Mike shook his head fiercely. “No? Then I guess I’ll just have to be naughty by myself, huh?” A rapid nod. “Here, have your little binky, baby, while Tiger Lilly gets naughty on you,” she said, picking up the pacifier and tucking it into his mouth as she mounted his lap, shoving her ample breasts into his face as he suckled furiously on the nipple and whimpered both his appreciation for this attention and his fear of Sally’s repercussions later. Her hips ground against his thighs, and she massaged his face with her tits first, then grabbed him fiercely by the chin and licked his forehead. “What a good little girl you are,” she whispered in his ear before licking it, which drove him half out of his mind. Without warning, she reached under his dress and, as he cried out in protest from behind his pacifier, grasped the front of his diaper and began to grind it up against him. He squealed as she pressed her tits back into his face, hot humiliation amplifying the intensity of her sexual aggression, but to his shock, she didn’t back off, she didn’t even seem phased at his underwear. “Wittle baby like it when I do that to her?” she asked, pressing the soft padding hard against his throbbing member and stroking it while her whole body moved in rhythm.

If Mike hadn’t just had an orgasm a couple hours ago, he would have probably had one immediately right then and there, if not sooner, but instead Tiger Lilly just worked him over, teasing and stroking and grinding and squeezing until finally it happened. Except something was very wrong. Last time, it seemed as though he started peeing as soon as he was done. This time, he wasn’t even finished before the flow began, and it seemed to heighten his orgasm even further, causing his whole body to shudder as his diaper grew hot and swelled. He whimpered and squeaked behind the mouth guard, biting down hard on the nipple as Tiger Lilly whispered, “Guess you were a naughty little girl after all, weren’t you? I knew you could do it. I’ll see you later, pretty little baby girl.”

And with that, Aiko dismounted him and left him there. Breathing heavy, with beads of sweat and Tiger Lilly spittle running in rivulets down his cheeks, Mike couldn’t even begin to process all the things that were wrong with what just happened. He dropped the pacifier out of his mouth and drained the half-full drink sitting next to him, safe and sound in its little cup-holder, and his waitress appeared seemingly from nowhere to replace it with a full one. “Th… thank you…” he stammered, taking a sizable swig and setting it down.

Sally, meanwhile, smiled from her perch on the scaffold and nodded approvingly. “Oh, little Michelle, the fun is just beginning for you, baby girl…”
7
Mike finally got his wits about him after another drink, and he returned his attention to the girls on stage, though he was far less engaged now, his diaper rapidly cooling and the stickiness from his orgasm still pressing against his skin, which was decidedly uncomfortable, powder and cream or no. He’d managed to get his dress back down before anyone had seen the diaper, or at least if they had, no one had taken any notice of it. The swollen mass between his legs pressed them even farther apart now, to where he had no choice but to spread them in a decidedly unladylike fashion. As a result, he found himself fidgeting with the hem of the dress quite regularly, pulling it down in his lap, praying no one could see the embarrassing underwear, especially now that it was wet.

Meanwhile, Sally was drinking this all in with sadistic pleasure, watching the pitiful thing’s eyes dart to and fro, making himself completely obvious with all his grabbing and pulling. She was so fixated, she had to continually remind herself to keep at least one eye on the girls so she didn’t miss her timing on announcing the next one. By the time the waitress brought Mike his fourth drink a mere thirty minutes later, Sally decided he was ready for another round of something else. She whispered something to the tall, buxom blonde standing third in the line, then stepped out to announce her.

Mike’s eyes bulged as that name was called; Svetlanna, the Moscow Mistress as she was known, was a nearly burly woman, formerly a competitive weightlifter, though she had long stopped her bodybuilding routines in favor of allowing her once-ripped physique to soften a bit, presenting a well-chiseled but still feminine appearance. Most of her act was demonstrations of her strength, regularly and effortlessly dragging denizens of The Row up onto the stage to be used as her playthings during her act, climbing the pole and hoisting them up with her under their arms while she held on with her legs. Oh, and the girly boys all loved when she’d incorporate bodybuilding poses into her act. So did Mike. He used to dream of her having her way with him, pinning him to the bed, tossing him around like a rag doll while he helplessly submitted to her whims and demands. All those little fantasies came rushing back as the fierce blonde stormed out on stage and began her performance.

It took a little doing to get Svetlanna here tonight, on account that she had moved across the country several months before, but for Sally it was worth every second of what was about to happen. The woman’s routine was short and sweet, skipping over her usual drafting of volunteers, and when she exited the stage, she too made a beeline straight for the trembling sissy. Sally’s only regret was that she didn’t add a wireless mic to her little slave’s costume so she could hear the exchanges.

“Vat in the world is a dainty little girl like you doing in such a place?” Svetlanna demanded in Mike’s ear as she straddled his lap, a fistful of his collar locked firmly between her fingers.

“I… I…” Mike couldn’t even form words at this point, his mind reeling as this incredibly powerful woman leered in his face.

“I should take you over my knee for being such a naughty thing! But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she growled low. Mike could only nod his head as he trembled under her grip. She shoved him back into the seat and slapped him across the face with her tits. The force of the blow took Mike by surprise, and he cringed a bit, even as his member, barely recovered from being molested by Tiger Lilly, jumped right back to attention.

“Oh yes, you’d just love it if I took you right up on stage and spanked your naughty little bottom in front of all these people, wouldn’t you? That’d be the thrill of your life, wouldn’t it?”

He shook his head fiercely in panic. No, the last thing he wanted was to show what by now had to be two hundred people his soggy, diapered bottom.

“Vhat’s wrong, naughty little girl? Are you worried someone might get a peek at your naughty little lady parts?” She pushed right past his trembling hands in his lap and made a grab between his legs, catching a squishy handful of plastic. “Oh, so you’re vorried about everyone finding out what a little baby you are, is that it? And a very wet little baby from what I can tell. Perhaps Mama Svetlanna should take you to the back and change your soggy little diaper for you?” she sneered as Mike helplessly gaped, mouth wide open, trying to form words. “Vood you like that, little baby girl?” She began rhythmically pressing the sodden mass against Mike’s raging erection as she continued, “Oh, yes, I’m sure you’d love for Mama to take your nasty diaper off and spank your naughty little bottom, wouldn’t you?” She slapped his thigh hard enough to elicit a yelp. “Varm that little ass right up, make the baby cry, then put a clean diaper on her, maybe make her stand in the corner for a while. But first, I should take that dress right off you and take you up on stage, show everyone vut a nasty little baby girl you are. How’d you like that, baby?” Another fierce slap, but this time Mike’s head was swimming as he neared yet another climax as she continued to grind the padding forcefully against him. His breath came in staccato gasps as she leaned in and bit his ear lobe. “That’s it, baby. Make Mama a big mess in your filthy little diaper. Go ahead. Do it. Come for Mama,” she chanted low. And Mike did exactly as he was instructed. Except…