Pink came over that Wednesday. I was wearing a silky black slip, black square heeled strappy shoes and fishnet stockings. He was wearing a tee-shirt and jeans. He was a rather large man, tall and broad and he was shaking. Taking his hand, I gave him a reassuring squeeze then led him into the living room and sat down.
"Are you going to show me your pretty pink panties?" I grinned at the alliteration.
"Yeah, um, well, I didn't know if I should wear them or..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the lacy bit of pink fabric.
"Well," I said, crossing my legs and flashing a bit of thigh. "Then I think you should put them on."
He swallowed. "Um, where?"
"Well, you could go into the bathroom, or you could change right here. Whichever you feel most comfortable with."
He lowered his head. "Whatever Mistress wishes."
I raised an eyebrow. I hate that phrase. I'd told him I hate that phrase. I shook my head. I'd let this one slide. "Then strip."
"Yes Mistress." He looked around for a place to sit down. But since I didn't indicate where, he stood where he was and unsteadily took off his shoes and pants.
Before he put the panties on, I said, "everything."
His voice shook as he muttered, "yes Mistress," and removed his shirt. As he he pulled up his panties, I noticed that he was blushing from his ears to his ankles. That's when I noticed that he was still wearing his socks.
"And the socks?"
"Oh Mistress, I have really bad toes. I'd rather not take off my socks, Mistress."
I respected that he shared his reservation so I didn't push the issue. Once he had the panties on, I had him stand very still as I walked around him touching and pinching different parts of his body, making him flinch and hop.
Grabbing his growing package, I leaned into him. "Shall we go down to the dungeon?"
Taking his hand, I led him to the basement door.
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