(TW: feminization, wetting)

Getting into the theater went effortlessly as I paid online for my ticket, but as soon as I had parked and got out of the car, I could feel the pink bottoms riding up into my buttcrack — it was expected, but it was getting scrunched and tickled my hole with tingly pleasure, so I tried my hardest to ignore the wedgie. I had gotten a seat at the very back row, and fortunate for me, the theater was practically empty except for a few people placed sporadically throughout the seating in the lower rows — I laid out my jacket, and took my Fanny pack to the bathroom. I had about three or so minutes before the trailers started playing.

My luck had been good so far, because the bathroom was pretty much empty except for a wet floor sign and unattended janitor’s cart. I proceeded to the handicap stall at the furthest end of the bathroom, latched the stall, propped my phone camera on the toilet paper dispenser and hit record, and then I slid my sweatpants down. I felt so girly how the sweatpants effortlessly slipped off my body, revealing the silky satin bottom of a slut. It wasn’t the most glamorous setting for a photoshoot, some would even call it trashy, but I didn’t care. I turned my back to the camera, globbed a generous amount of lube into my hand, bent over into a 90 degree angle, and started working it in and around my ass, my other hand trying to spread my cheeks open. It all felt so wrong, but once the lube made contact with my skin, all fears disappeared — I was doing this, I was a filthy slut, and I was going to enjoy it, whether I wanted to or not. I felt so naughty and it felt so good, and if it wasn’t for the chastity, I probably would’ve started stroking to completion.

Once I was comfortably able to slide two fingers in and out, I brandished the plug in between my fingers, spread some more lube over it, and started pushing it in. The days off practice had paid off — my plug basically slid in with little resistance, and I felt my anus embrace the toy like a warm slimy hug. I almost let out a faint moan and lost my balance but caught myself, my hands planted against the wall of the stall, as if I had been ordered by police to spread my legs for a strip search. If it was up to me, I would’ve taken it up the ass right then and there.

I spun in a couple circles for the camera, admiring my sluttiness and ensuring every aspect of the outfit was in the frame. I cupped the bottom of my ass cheeks and bounced them up and down, spreading them to reveal my rainbow plug.

who is a naughty little slut I told myself, like a whore’s positive affirmations confirming my dirty deeds

I spun around again and flicked the chastity a couple times, cupping my crotch in my hands as if I was holding a fragile pink flower. Running my sticky fingers up and down my smooth thighs, I wiggled my cage to prove my was limp sissy dick was indeed locked.

I don’t know what happened but once the plug was fully inserted, I felt the growing need to tinkle. fuck — before, I had usually just taken the cage off, but this time, I wasn’t in control of the key, and I had been ordered to leave it at home. I stood upright and pulled my lingerie to the side, and I straddled the toilet and tinkled the most feminine piss I had ever taken, my sweatpants still draped around my ankles. I heard banter entering the bathroom, so I quickly yanked up my sweatpants, wiggling and shimmying my butt so they were pulled up high and concealing everything, and turned off the camera. I took a few rips from my weed pen, downed two mini bottles of vodka, grabbed a couple more selfies, stashed everything in my fanny pack and exited the stall. As I walked out to the sink to wash my hands, I identified the source of the banter: it was two gentlemen who looked to be in their 40’s, talking about last night’s basketball game. My butt nervously clenched the plug as I walked by them towards the sink — every step feeling like an eternity as it took everything in me not to moan.

I began thinking how it would be so humiliating if the plug fell out and slipped out my pant leg, so I discretely tapped the base of the plug inside me. That final tap of the plug really put a bashful pep in my step; the rips from the weed pen were starting to hit me almost instantly, and my brain melted at the thought of pulling down my sweatpants and flashing the plug wedged between my cheeks to the two gentlemen, imagining them getting aroused and taking me back in the stall to fuck me. I washed the lube off my hands, looked at my butt in the mirror to confirm nothing was exposed, and walked back to my theater.

The walk back down the movie corridor felt long and degrading, all while feeling like I was giving a feminine slutwalk down the runway. The lush velvety carpet underneath me looked like it would feel incredible to hump. I could see myself here on all fours while getting pumped by a burly gentleman or a latex mistress with a strapon. My dirty little secret had me incredibly aroused, and I clenched the plug tighter while I wiggled with excitement in my cage. The nervousness was transforming into confidence and extreme horny fantasies.

I returned to my seat, the lights partially dimmed for the previews. Would they have cameras in the theaters? Would they catch me taking pictures with my pants down? I looked around and it seemed like there were only 8 people in the theater and that eased my mind.

As I sat down, it felt like I had taken a seat on somebody’s rock hard erection. I exhaled heavily and gripped the arm rests, coming to terms with what I was doing.

I was plugged and caged in public, and nobody but my master knew — the darkness of the theater fueled the horny thinking, and I slightly gyrated my hips back and forth in my seat. I took advantage of the reclining seats and raised the footrest, my legs stiffly extended as if I was hoisting my crotch on a platter for people to pick at like finger foods. The vibrations of the speakers made me quiver with excitement to the point I lowered the footrest — I didn’t want to ruin the thrill with a quick orgasm before the movie. But excitement got the best of me, and as the lights were fully dimmed at the start of the movie, I couldn’t resist myself.

I pulled another mini bottle of vodka from my Fanny back and downed it with one gulp, and chased it with my soda. I decided that since it was a virtually empty theater, I sneaked some rips from my pen. I wanted to enjoy this, but I also wanted to be alert and keep my wits.

I held the hit for ten seconds and covered my mouth with my left hand as I slowly slid my right hand into my pants to cup my balls, as my dick feverishly twitched when my hand made contact with my skin. I exhaled downwards into my hoodie, the warmth of the smoke hitting my chest; my chastity device and my balls in my hand felt like I was palming a baseball. I wished it was somebody else’s hand muffling me, fantasizing somebody else sliding their hands down my pants to freely grope me. I took one final hit before exhaling inside my hoodie, the thought of being ballgagged drove me insane! I was really starting to feel the effects of the pen — I might as well could’ve been wearing nothing but the lingerie, because as the movie started, I felt so naked and slutty, and it felt so freaky and good. My body was being used for someone else’s sexual urges and I was receiving secondhand pleasure from their commands. The lights completely powered down, and the movie started.

Without spoiling the movie, there’s a sudden and abrupt jumpscare within the first fifteen minutes - when it happened it made me jump with fright, my butt immediately clenching the plug, and my hands bolted to my face to muffle my moans. The fright transformed fear into pleasure within a millisecond, the clenching feeling like it had spanked my prostate. I really loved this movie, but the watching experience was frequently distracted by acknowledging my slutty situation — I would get through fifteen minutes of the plot, but my subconscious was screaming with sexual joy; “oh this is intense, AND I’m plugged like a sissy whore!”

About an hour into the movie, when I started to completely forget about the buttplug being inside me, I felt a vibration from my phone, and it was a text from my master.

“Start teasing your chastity cage slut”

Would they have known if I didn’t? Regardless, I slipped my hands back down my pants again, and began tracing the head of my sissy dick with my index finger. I didn’t realize how sensitive I actually was, as my dick twitched and wiggled from the excitement of being acknowledged. It took me about five minutes of teasing myself before I felt the warmth of pre-cum leaking into my panties, dripping down my inner thigh.

“Leaking💦” I replied, hoping they would believe me, and that they wouldn’t expect me to put the flash on and take a picture to prove it.

Before I could put my phone back in my pocket, I felt another vibration.

“Lick it up. Lick up what you can”

This part was tricky; I could feel the warm stickiness, but getting it into my hand in the darkness was a blind attempt. I traced my finger back to the tip of my cage, and slid it back and forth over the opening. I pulled my hand up to my face, the silhouette of the drippy pre-cum now illuminated by the movie screen, and proceeded to suck on each finger. It felt so naughty, and I felt like I achieved full femininity. I pulled out my final mini bottle of vodka and swigged it again in one gulp — I was chasing my pre-cum like it was the alcohol.

With half an hour left, my phone vibrated again. Another text from master.

“Edge yourself. Do NOT finish”

Needing no instruction, I slowly gyrated my hips back and forth in my chair. My crotch was completely fragile and sensitive, and my butt desperately craved a real dick. The slightest physical touch provoked streams of leaky pre-cum; i cupped as much as I could, and spread it all over my balls like I was trying to rub in sunscreen. I could sense myself wanting to explode, but I didn’t know how big of a mess I would make, and how I would explain to master I failed the challenge. I yanked my hands out of my pants and gripped the armrests. I probably looked like my hands were bound to my seat, but I was desperate not to finish. Every passing thought was sexual: imagine getting fucked, imagine getting groped, imagine swallowing loads, imagine taking multiple loads

At the end of the movie, I really needed to pee, and I needed to cum.

“Movie’s over,” I texted the master.

As the lights came up, I was the last to leave. I was afraid that I’d pee myself or cum in my pants, and the prospect of either happening fueled the embarrassment and sexual giddiness. I pulled out my phone, pulled my pants down a little, and took some more pictures. I forwarded it all to the master and requested to take it out now

“Go to the bathroom and add more lube, you don’t remove the plug until I tell you to bitch. Do not relieve yourself. Film the ride home”

What?! I was speechless, but now I was scared. I was either going to piss myself or explode in my panties, and he wanted me to continue?!

I cautiously left the theater and made my way towards the bathroom, afraid of having an accident. I made my way to the handicap stall and I tenderly got into position to remove the plug. The bathroom was busier now, and I felt super cautious about not making any noises to reveal my situation. I tried pulling the plug out and I was met with resistance — my ass did not want to release this toy! I slowly extracted the toy and my legs started convulsing. As the tip slid out, it felt like a tremendous weight was lifted, but then my ass felt like it had a mind of its own: I needed to be filled again. it was as if the absence of the plug was causing orgasm withdrawals. My dick tightened up, craving the ability to urinate and relieve some stress.

There was no way to make it discreet that I was opening and using lube — the sound of the cap and the dispensing of the sticky substance would surely make a suspicious noise in the stall but I was too far gone. I coughed as I opened the cap and emptied another glob of lube onto the plug. My hole was fully ready, and welcomed the lube-covered plug back in with no issues whatsoever. If it was up to me I would’ve finished myself right there, but I was so close to the end. As I slid the plug in for a second time that day, it was as if my ass was grateful. My ass missed the presence of the penetration, and in a split second, my caged cock squirted pre-cum with excitement, splattering the front of my sweatpants. Instinctively I turned to the toilet and exploded, convulsing, firing squirts in intermittent spurts, my dick unsure if it wanted to climax or relieve itself. I rubbed my hand all over my chastity, and without hesitation sucked my fingers clean

“I’m such a good bitch cleaning up my mess without anybody telling me to do so”, I thought to myself as I stopped the recording. When I thought it was over, I pulled my pants up to discover a large triangular shaped wet spot from my accident. It was in the shape of the French cut bottoms, and the wet spot was obvious, with the vague outline of the chastity device. There was no way to hide this and pretend it was a water splash, and I was craving chastity release and the ability to cum. I took a deep breath and hastily made my way to the sink. My dick was still insanely horny. Violently scrubbing my hands clean, I bolted out of the theater to the exit. As I made way too my vehicle my chastity cage was throbbing, I was going to squirt all over myself again, and I needed to get home.

My hands trembled as I unlocked the car door. I threw the fanny pack and keys into the passenger and slammed the camera into the cup holder, my fingers shaking as I pressed record. As I threw my butt into the driver seat, the pressure pushing my plug further in me was the final straw. I let out a sexual whimper. My ass was sucking on the plug like a ring pop, with every breath bringing it back inside me, and poking my prostate. There was no stopping this. My body began convulsing like I was being possessed.

I couldn’t contain myself anymore and I let out a large moan, and began to piss myself! The explosion brought a wave of warmth in my panties and I was in a total daze, my brain completely focused on the explosion in my pants. Frantically hoping I didn’t stain my car seats, I flung my car door open and stood up, but it was pointless trying to stop it now. I began squirting in my pants like a bunched up garden hose, my ass eating the panties like floss and my butt still clenching the plug like a firm grip on a doorknob. I couldn’t resist and I moaned with each explosive squirt, my hand gripping the top of the door frame, my knees buckling and pointed inward. With each explosive squirt, my ass clenched the plug like a throbbing heartbeat - squirt, clench plug, moan, squirt, clench plug, moan

who is masters little wet slut, I thought to myself as I trembled and let the warmth wash over everything from the waist down.

The trickling streams raced down the inside of my legs, up my buttcrack, it was everywhere. I looked down to witness the mess and I was speechless, my breathing still heavy, as I felt the loss of control. What started as a small wet spot that outlined the bulge and shape of the panties had turned into a soaking mess, as if somebody had dumped a gallon on water on my crotch.

The craziest part was that I was still aroused — the warmth of the wetting had made its way to my ass and the plug, and it was almost as if it acted as lube. My butt’s grip on the plug was relaxing now, but still aggressively clenching the toy and pulsating. I could hear the sticky squelches of the accident lubricating the plug, like the squishy sound of waterlogged shoes. I regained my balance and turned to look over my shoulder at the back of my pants: it was as if a gangbang had used my ass for target practice. I turned so I was fully facing the camera, and used both my hands to slide my sweatpants down. The bright pink panties were now a deep magenta color. My legs shivered as I peeled the panties down to reveal my trembling sissy dick, the chastity cage still dripping. I wanted to admired my wet and smooth sissy body but I yanked my pants back up because I heard voices behind me walking across the parking garage. I stopped the recording and forwarded it to my master, unedited.

“Happy?” I said, hoping he was satisfied.

I threw my jacket down onto the driver seat and plopped my wet butt down, too preoccupied now to wonder if anybody had seen my accident. I looked down at my crotch to marvel at my wet spot. I let out a defeated sigh as my breathing returned to normal. The phone buzzed in the cupholder.

“Yes. That’s a good chastity slut 😈 You can remove the plug when you get home.”

Two minutes later, I received a $200 venmo notification, simply labeled with a bunch of water emojis. As I pulled out of the parking spot, I took one final glimpse at the splash zone that had pooled on the ground, and drove off.