“Pamela-Jayne, thank Mistress Hypnos for helping you to accept what you’ve become, telling her exactly what you HAVE become. Tell her that you absolutely adore your body and tell her how much your body has changed.”
Although the truth was that I HATED what I’d become, HATED the way my body had been artificially modified and HATED my false girlie voice, I found myself obeying Viv’s command.
The car accelerated smoothly along the city streets until it reached a point where it could safely ascend into the air to join the local flyway. Having overcome my initial surprise of Rachael turning my peck on her cheek into a more intimate kiss, I responded with all the passion I could muster. My tongue explored her sweet mouth, entwining with hers.
“You fucking lesbians,” my husband exclaimed from his position on the floor. “Wait until you untie me. I’ll make you regret what you’ve done to me.”
I was shaking. The tip of my nose was pressed against the cool white plaster drywall of my loft apartment. My hands were on top of my head...and though she didn't ask me to lace my fingers together like they did on the cop show...I did it anyway. It hid the fact that my nails were still feminine. I had enjoyed keeping them short, but they were always buffed and polished---too well cared for to be the hands of a 'regular guy.' Had my hands betrayed me somehow? I shivered again with fear and my hands twitched atop my head.
As I listened to the demented woman on the other side laugh at how trapped I was, I couldn't help seeing the symmetry of things. SEVEN DEADBOLTS on the door....and my SEVEN YEARS of FREEDOM... Four of the Seven had been picked open, and she was steadily working on the last three. It was only a matter of time before the fitted collar was closed around my neck---taken from my EXACT measurements. Details of my life were in the hands of the school...not just my most intimate measurements...my most intimate fears. I had no secrets while at the school.
Slumped to the floor in a heap against the door...I took stock of what I was...a Satin-clad human doorstop. Erica Javert was a force of nature. Though our physical weights were close, I had seen her subdue large men before. It was part of the sick pageantry of being enrolled at Sissy school. If she put her hands on me, I was done. There was no use in calling for help. The benefit of this converted loft---privacy--now was a damning factor toward my potential capture. Police wouldn't help...JAVERT and her cronies had many of the law enforcement community on a pay-off system...
I was definitely UNSETTLED. My stomach was in knots at that early hour of the morning. Something was wrong. I felt it. Seven years ago, I had escaped from the madhouse that the Sissy school had ASSIGNED me to. The woman that they had placed me with was 'mostly' a monster. The part of her that wasn't...felt deep regret for her cruelty towards me.
I woke in a cold sweat. My chest was heaving as I gasped---gulped---huge swells of air. The satin nightgown that ended at my mid thigh was plastered to my body---stuck---like glue. Where was I? In my own bed? Yes...just another nightmare. I slumped back into a beaten pile of pillows and rolled the soggy sides underneath. My heart was still racing, but an awareness that I was alone...in my apartment...managed to control it somewhat. There was no use in staying in bed. Placing slippers on my feet I padded into the living room.
My husband’s secretary was still dressed as a schoolgirl while he was totally naked, both of them looking more and more embarrassed as I and my three former bridesmaids stood in his office looking at them. His embarrassment didn’t concern me at all, but I desperately wanted to eradicate his secretary’s embarrassment. After all, she was only eighteen, stunningly beautiful, and I wanted to get to know her better.
“What’s your name, my dear?” I asked her.
“Surely you didn’t come to work in those clothes?”
That first enema was excruciating! Both Viv and Richard must have had a sadistic streak running through them, since they kept me filled with the fluid from the enema bag for half an hour. It gave me the most horrific stomach cramps imaginable, and the relief was indescribable when I was finally allowed to evacuate my bowels. My relief was to be short lived as Viv decided to administer an additional two enemas, to ensure that her insides are thoroughly clean, she explained to Richard.
Christy starts by adding extensions to my hair and giving me a below-the-shoulder-length cut, along with adding some blond and red high and lowlights. When left down, it is decidedly feminine, feathered and layered—it is easily pulled into a ponytail, though, to hide the look.
I wake up early the next morning, disoriented and confused. My back hurts, my bed is lumpy, and the house is cold. Then I remember that I am in a tent in Selina’s back yard…that I no longer have a home, foster, or otherwise. The system has ‘set me free’…
It is my eighteenth birthday and Mom kicked me out of the house. Don’t get me wrong, my Mom loves me, but, as of today, all support for me has come to an end, since I decided to not go to college. Mom has told me, since I was sixteen that this day was coming—I guess I just did not believe her. The only Mom I ever cared for needs my room for another foster kid…
I was alone in the flat, sitting on my bed, naked, my arms stretched out horizontally and firmly secured to the bedhead, my legs spread wide and secured by ropes to the legs at the bottom of the bed. Clamps were biting painfully into my enlarged nipples which had had an evil fluid injected into them with a hypodermic needle. My cock, engorged in its cage, throbbing from the pain inflicted on it by studs pressing into it as it became harder and attempted to grow.
"Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy;
As a squash is before tis a peascod, or a codling when ‘tis almost an apple:
‘tis with him in standing water, between boy and man"
~ Twelfth Night
i follow the instructions because i suspect we've no way out of this and not obeying would get us just into bigger troubles
well yes, i recognize it, the idea of dressing as a girl was getting me excited... but it was not just because of that
as i follow some guards i can't avoid looking behind trying to catch him coming having changed his mind... but he didn't
as we arrive miss diana offers me a seat next to her that i take
"you look beautiful on it, but it's improbable... we'll do it in a few"
as they left us alone we barely manage to sit trying to recover ourselves from the drugs
after a few i recover myself and son Brad does the same
the first thing we try to do is to free our cocks from their prisons, but the locks are too strong and we can't do a thing
later we try to get some clothes for getting covered but the only thing we can find in the wardrobe are female clothes
"we can get dressed like this... i'm not going out in women's clothes!"
"neither do i want. i don't want people seeing me in woman's clothes"
her name seems to be strange for an asian but i suppos her dad was a french man living there
as we waited we told her about our camping plans and how we ripped our tent
"don't worry about your tents! we use to have to take care of them! soon you'll have no worries about them!
she gave us a whicked smile and by any strange reason i felt she was not talking about camping but i took off that thought of my mind
then Jeanette anounces the dinner is ready and we take place around the table
As Maria sits beside me, I again look down my body, leaning forwards so I can see past my soar nipples complete with shiny new rings. I suck in my tummy and gaze between my legs, my mind struggles with what I see, virginal lips.
"We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep."
~ The Tempest
Jessica Wycliff's happiness was reflected in her smile.
"Daisy! That is a delightful name my dear. Yes, I think Daisy will be most suitable. Daisy it is. And the first thing that Daisy needs to learn, Emily, is to curtsey."
With the news that there would be a boy waiting for me, the trip home seemed to take only an instant. My wife met us at the train station and the drive to our building took only 15 minutes. Veronica unlocked the door and ushered me inside. She gestured to a strange looking contraption laying on the table in the entry foyer. A system of nylon straps and buckles and some heavy stainless steel wire. Before I could decipher what the hell the thing was, she explained. "Sweetie, this device is designed to hold the wearer's mouth open so she can learn the gentle art of cocksucking.
I don't think I can describe the sense of shame I felt in that laser booth. I stripped naked, as instructed, and lay on the the lounge table. Not physically uncomfortable - quite the opposite, actually. But knowing that only my face looked girly now, and the rest of me was unmistakably male, brought on an embarrassment, even a self-loathing that I had not been prepared for. I was stunned to realize how badly I wanted all my parts to be in agreement, and moreover, I wanted them to be agreeably feminine.
Dr. Athena drove us to the train station on her way to open her clinic. The platform was crowded with the tail-end of the rush hour traffic,but well under peak volume.I was beginning to feel a bit more confident.My reflection in windows convinced me that I wasn't a freak. I looked enough like a girl, but was I moving, gesturing like one? Still enough doubt to keep me from relaxing. Was I noticing a few admiring glances? Well,now. How about that?
A Contract is a contract, a contract between a mistress and her sissy is special. No get out clauses no fine print both parties understand the implications and more notably the consequences of a failure to comply. Not a contract to be entered into lightly.
When Simon Cuthbertson told his Mistress, after a period of extended absence, he had fallen in love and would not be seeing her again he obviously was not fully understanding of the contract he had signed those years ago.
That week was a complete nightmare for me. Viv was having a rather heavy period, so there was no question of her and Richard enjoying sexual intercourse. I was kept secured to my bed for most of the time except for the times that it was necessary for me to maintain my personal hygiene routines. For some obscure reason which I failed to grasp, I willingly submitted myself to the twice daily sessions of painful injections into my bum cheeks, my tits and nipples. I wanted to resist, to put up some argument or reason for not having them, but I found it impossible.
By the time Gretchen had finished dressing me, I was half in love with her myself. She was sweet and gentle and nothing more. Not a trace of the implied threats or grim promises I had been hearing from the three witches. Her story about her sissy lover had truly touched me. Picturing them burrowing under each other's skirts to suck their partner`s cock seemed touching, not perverse. And while she was somewhat large, she was convincingly feminine.
I awoke the next morning with what I can only describe as a whole body grin. It just felt as if I was smiling all over, it goes to show what a loving girlfriend who wants to give you new experiences can do for your sense of well being.
"Get up lazy bones!" Said Gail, coming into the bedroom with a very welcome cup of tea, "We've got a busy schedule for the next few days."
As they start jumping out of the closets and from under the bed i'm in shock and horror. Trying to cover myself and running around trying to gather up things that I've gotten out that aren't mine.
I hear girls laughing and screaming and it isn't me. Then my girl friend says "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY CLOTHES? AND WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE?"
I'm standing there in her stockings, heels panties bra a wig and blouse. Not having time enough to put on the short skirt. I, I , I
"SHUT UP are you a boy or a girl" then screams of laughter.............
They gave me a full-length light robe to put on after I removed the absurdly girly things I had put on several hours earlier. I was sitting at the vanity table trying to apply my makeup. I was still very clumsy at this - I hadn't done it by myself more than a few times. Then the next surprise... "We're going to step out for another martini, dear. We'll send Gretchen in to help you dress. Do everything she tells you. We'll hear about it if you give her any trouble."
"False face must hide what the false heart doth know."
"Closing that set was Simply Red with "Money's too tight to mention" from way back in the 1980's, but definitely a song with relevance for the current economic climate. Tune in tomorrow afternoon at two for an exclusive-to-KDNS interview with Jessica Wycliff, co-founder and CEO of WyKnott Inc., who will be discussing why her company continues to flourish in these difficult times."
They finally released me. They even removed the gag but only on the promise that I speak softly and politely. I had no doubt that they would gag me again instantly if I didn't cooperate. I was seated in front of a vanity mirror with instructions to arrange my hair and apply my makeup. For 'girls' like me, doing the makeup always began with an extremely close shave.
My girl friend went out of town on a Friday, a trip she had planning for months with her friends. Little did I know what she had really been planning was a trap. A trap to catch me wearing and playing with myself in her panties and sexy lingerie.
As soon as she left I started. I started going thru her drawers and sexy frilly things 'cause I knew, of course where everything was. Her plan was to have all her girl friends hide in closets around our bedroom and they were ALL going to see me and find me wearing and wanking.
They said the left the clamps on for only five minutes. It had to have been longer. It just had to. But now they had finally been removed . The pain had been acute but constant. It never got worse and it remained highly localized. Now I was left with a dull ache and my scrotum felt like someone had pinched it hard in a couple of places. Quite hard. Then, as I waited to be untied, there occurred a curious conversation among the women. Dr. Athena spoke first.
Unbelievable. Veronica wanted me to acquiesce in what was about to happen. Wanted my consent to continue with... My god, I didn't even want to think the words, silently, in an internal dialog. I was weeping freely by now, picturing how I must appear to the women. Dressed as a girl, hair in curlers, bound spread-eagled with my legs elevated and separated, my skirts pulled up around my waist leaving me completely exposed, and finally, castration clamps fastened to my scrotum, waiting only to be tightened shut to complete the job. Can you imagine how frightened I felt? How pathetic?