Rent Due (2/7)

Josh wobbled, arms flailing as he lost his balance in the dainty kitten heels. With a helpless little squeal, he tipped forward and tumbled onto the hardwood floor, landing in a clumsy, blushing heap.

The outfit didn’t help. Every movement felt exaggerated, exposed—he could feel the snug white ribbed top hugging his torso, its back tied off with an oversized pink satin bow that trailed down toward his hips. A matching ribbon held his hair in a loose ponytail, the soft bow bouncing gently with each humiliated shift. His white mesh tights clung tight around his legs, the netting doing nothing to hide the pink thong wedged up between his cheeks. His pastel pink nails—still fresh from today’s salon visit—clicked softly against the hardwood floor as he scrambled to sit up.

“Again,” Mark said coolly from the couch, arms folded as he watched with a smirk. “Back on your feet, sissy.”

Josh swallowed hard. His cheeks blazed hotter than ever as the words slipped out, almost involuntarily, in the soft, breathy tone he’d been drilled to use. “Y-Yes, Daddy…”

Josh pushed himself up onto shaky feet, the heels wobbling beneath him as he caught his breath. As he straightened, the humiliation still burning on his cheeks, his mind drifted back to last weekend—back to arriving at Mark’s place after that first salon visit.

Josh had barely stepped inside before Mark laid down the rules.

“Okay, princess,” he said casually, setting down his keys. “Here’s how this is going to work.”

“You’re going to be my perfect little sissy,” Mark continued, voice calm but firm. “You’ll follow every instruction I give you, without question. You’ll keep that pretty little mouth in line, and that body obedient. And if you manage all that, I won’t have to kick you out.”

He couldn’t afford to lose his apartment. His chest tightened, and after a hesitant pause, he whispered, “Yes, sir…”

Mark gave a slow, deliberate smile. “Not sir. It’s Daddy now.”

Josh’s face burned deeper, his voice barely a squeak. “Y-Yes… Daddy.”

The rest of the evening had been relentless. Mark had him practice that soft, breathy voice over and over, refining every word until it came out light, high, and embarrassingly feminine. The sound of it alone made his skin crawl—but he kept going, cheeks burning hotter with every pass.

Then came the posture. Wrists held lightly at his sides, hands resting in a soft, passive pose. His hips were tilted with a slight arch in his lower back, tummy pulled in to keep him looking trim. Mark moved around him slowly, making subtle corrections—pressing his knees closer together, lifting his chin just enough to keep that helpless, obedient poise.

Now, here he was again this weekend, forced to pace the length of Mark’s living room in pink kitten heels as part of his latest “lesson.” Arms out slightly for balance, his hips swayed far more than he wanted them to. Every step was a trial. His thighs rubbed together uncomfortably beneath the tight nylons, the thong tugging more with each wobbly stride.

He bit his lip, arms swaying a little less with each step as he made another slow lap across the room. The heels still felt unsteady beneath him, but he was getting the rhythm now—small steps, straight back, hips just lightly swaying like Mark had shown him.

Mark’s eyes followed him the whole way. After Josh completed his third lap and turned toward him again, Mark gave a low, approving smile. “Mmmm… look at you go… Such a good girl.” His voice was smooth and low, the last few words soaked in heat.

Josh felt a spark jump in his chest. That voice—that tone—something about it sent a shiver down his spine, pride blooming warm and shameful as his thighs pressed together instinctively. Then he caught himself, cheeks flushing deep as he looked away, trying to push the feeling down.

Mark held up a pair of three-inch stilettos, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “Let’s try these next.”

Josh let out a quiet groan, glancing down at his already aching calves. His legs were trembling just from these kitten heels, higher ones felt like a threat.

He bit his lip, silently praying he’d get a callback from any of the jobs he’d applied to. But between college classes and weekends spent prancing around like this, things weren’t looking good.

In the meantime, he’d just have to keep being Daddy’s cute little sissy.