Part 6

Jim and Sarah talked about many things that night.

He had shared that he and Ellen had moved down from up north around seven years ago for a different lifestyle and to allow Ellen to be closer to her family and the friends she had grown up with. Because of these past relationships, they were quickly welcomed socially. A year after they moved, he sold a small company he had founded for a substantial sum and retired to just managing their investments. Their life was sweet and good—until the unthinkable happened. And she was quickly gone. So he closed up—withdrew. He still kept fit, pursued his golf and a few other hobbies and did the minimum needed to keep up his social relationships, but that was it.

Sarah had to push back tears several times as he talked—tears that went unnoticed in the bedroom darkness.

Sarah talked about herself as well, giving Jim a pretty clear picture of her, and even shared things that commonly take most couples years to discover about each other, if they are discovered at all. Sarah did not tell Jim about Kim.

Sarah knew many people who were or had been friends with Ellen, but had never met her. Sarah learned from the wine event hostess how dear and sweet a woman Ellen had been, and how sad her passing was to all who knew her.

They met for lunch at Ted’s the next Wednesday and for drinks, dinner and whatever followed the next Saturday. As the days and weeks passed, the frequency of their meetings increased, and they soon became a couple. Kim was delighted by this, though it took her a while to get used to her and Sarah’s new morning “ritual.” Kim, an avowed lesbian since she last dated a male in college, had never eaten so much cum (albeit stale) in her life. But she dealt with it and even came to moderately enjoy the post-coital offerings.

Sarah was happy, and had never been as sexually engaged in her life. She loved what she had with both of her lovers, and if that wasn’t enough, she had the writings of her great aunt’s Order to read. Some of the writings, particularly the accounts of those undertaking the final trial, she found to be as erotic as the most graphic lesbian pornography. She would always need Kim after reading even only small excerpts. Then there were the rules and teachings of the Order itself.

Occasionally, a novitiate would be excused from the final trial and allowed fully into the membership so that she could participate in the leadership and management of the affairs of the Order. Ostensibly, this was because those who underwent the trial were much too obedient and submissive to be competent in management matters. But the ever-skeptical Sarah, based upon various inferences and allusions in the writings, came to suspect and later became convinced that as part of their services to God and the Order, the members of the Order who had completed the trial were made to “worship at the alter of the soul” of those who had not. In other words, the true purpose of the Order was to enslave young women to a life of sapphic sexual service. She wondered about this in the context of the “sexual abstinence” about which her aunt had spoken. “Apparently, the abstinence and denial of sexual pleasure only extended to those who were in fact enslaved—not to their ‘mistresses’,” reasoned Sarah. She found this both very troubling and impossibly erotic at the same time.

Sarah also found several passages that related to effeminate or disobedient males who had been delivered to the care of the Order, but as she had no interest in those matters, she skipped over these parts. Somehow, though, these males eventually would all be admitted as full members of the Order. She did find this to be quite curious.

When the weather was nice, Jim would invite Sarah to join him at the house he and Ellen had built at the beach near town. The house was on an island in a gated resort community—there were several restaurants and leisure amenities on the island. Out of consideration for Kim, Sarah limited herself to no more than two consecutive nights away, unless Kim was out of town, and frequently joined Jim for the rest of the day and night after his Saturday morning golf.

After a particularly pleasurable Friday evening and night with Jim, Sarah found herself alone at the beach house—Jim not being due back from his morning golf match for several of hours. She had mispacked, and needed something to use as a beach shirt or coverup. She checked Jim’s clothes, but nothing worked. She then remembered that Jim had said that in a spare bedroom there were some of Ellen’s things—maybe there was something there she could borrow?

In the room there were clothes both folded and on hangers and in drawers, shoes and other of Ellen’s things. She opened a few drawers in a chest, but only found bras, panties and other lingerie—even, surprisingly, some for body shaping. She quickly decided that she shouldn’t have gone into the room, much less opened the chest, and started to leave. Just then, something caught her eye—a book on the cover of which was written “Journal” in gold script. Being a librarian by training and having almost a fetishistic interest in books, Sarah couldn’t resist and picked it up. When she did, several folded pages fell from it. Sarah knelt to pick them up. On the back fold of the papers was written, in an obviously feminine hand, Ellen’s hand, ”To Her Who Follows.” A shiver ran down Sarah’s spine as she read this. Sensing even more strongly that she shouldn’t be there, Sarah hastily put the papers back into the book and left the room.

Part 7

Later that day as they were relaxing on the porch enjoying a glass of wine of wine, Sarah asked Jim about the room. He first blushed, then offered that Ellen had decided to put her affairs in order before she passed, and what was in the room were the last of what she had left behind—she had asked that he hold onto the things in the room until he knew it was time. This explanation cause Sarah’s eyes to tear—something she quickly covered. Poor sweet man.

“I guess I should tend to that sometime soon.”

“No. I don’t think it is time for that now. There’s part of you and part of her in that room. You need not hurry.”

He took her hand and squeezed it gently.

“Thank you.”

The gratitude in his eyes made her heart swell.

Their relationship continued to deepen, and Sarah didn’t give the room or the letter any thought until Jim asked her to watch the beach house for several days while he was away. On her first night at the house she started thinking about the room, and wondered for whom Ellen’s letter had been intended. What if she, Sarah, was the one “Who Follows?” And what if it was intended as a posthumous message from Ellen to the next woman in Jim’s life? And is Sarah the next woman? She decided that she just had to read it.

She nervously opened the door to the room and found the book—just as she had left it. She unfolded the pages.

“To you-

If you are reading this then several things must be true.”

First, I have passed from this world, leaving my precious Jim. Don’t feel bad for me—my life has been good, rich and well-lived, so much more so because of him. It is he who I worry about.”

Second, he has found you, or you have found him. Either way, if you are reading this he has let you in, and that is something he seldom allows. It’s not intentional on his part—it is just the way he is. And because he let you in, I know more about how you must be, even without our having met, than you may imagine.”

And Third, this man, our man, still needs someone to love and to help put him back together.”

There are, though, some things about Jim that you should know, and you should know them now, while there may still be time to back away without there being further damage to either of you. He would want that.”

So, where should I start?”

You see, Jim and I had a rather unusual lifestyle. It started when I was using his laptop and came across an odd website in the history. There were leather- and rubber-clad women, and males dressed in all kinds of feminine outfits, wearing makeup and wigs and in all manners of bondage.”

I was, of course, shocked, and thought that he must have found it by accident. But there were others. It didn’t take much for me to figure out that some kind of fetish was at play here … .”

As she read the rest of the letter, Sarah’s world was more and more rocked. Apparently, Ellen and Jim had some kind of mistress-slave relationship, with Jim the slave, and a feminized male slave at that. Not that different from what Sarah had with Kim, but he is her boyfriend! Of all things!

After she finished reading the letter, she deliberately folded it, put it back in the book, put the book back where it had been, then carefully shut the door as she left the room.

She needed to talk to Kim.

Part 8

When Kim got the call from a shaken Sarah, she didn’t hesitate and immediately left downtown for the beach house.

“Sarah—are you okay? What’s the matter?”

“I learned today that Jim wears women’s clothes and dresses up as a girl. Does that mean he’s gay? Or bisexual? Is something wrong with him?”

“Whoa! Wait! Slow down and tell me from the beginning.”

“Okay. It started the other day when I found this book in the back bedroom … .”

Sarah explained how she had decided to read the letter that fell out of the book, what the letter said and how troubling she found it. Ellen had even left behind a journal, which Sarah hadn’t dared open, that detailed certain aspects of their relationship. Ellen wanted her to know about Jim’s “interests” so that Jim wouldn’t get more hurt if he was rejected after these things inevitably came to be known.

“Uh, Sarah, I think there is an irony here that may have escaped you. Aren’t you in fact secretly bisexual?”

“Well. Yes, I guess. But that’s different.”

“I’m not so sure about that. And I’m not so sure about you using that possibility as a basis for judgement.”

“But I want him to be a man, not a, … not a ..not a whatever that would make him.”

“Not a ‘sissy,’ right?”

“I’m not sure what that means.”

“It’s actually part of a not uncommon sexual fetish. I know Jim, and I’m pretty sure he’s 100% heterosexual. Most sissies are. The sissy thing is basically a play on extreme obsession with the female—everything feminine—coupled with sexualized submissiveness and cravings for dominance and humiliation. You’ve never come across any forced feminization porn?”

“No. I haven’t. I didn’t even know about the girl on girl thing or the mistress/slave stuff until you came along.”

“That’s valid, though sometimes I think you’ve spent your entire life under a rock (shaking her head), or a heavy book. I’ll try to explain—in a lot of ways he and I are very similar, except that he gets a sexual thrill from being dressed up as a girl. I dress up as a girl every day—so I’m over that. Think about it this way—have you ever gotten real wet from putting on a naughty pair of panties or bra? Or even at the thought of wearing something extreme or taboo? It’s the same for sissies, only worse, because part of the fantasy is to be trapped in the feminine.”

“If you look hard enough you can find journal articles written by psychiatrists and psychologists about it. Most of them conclude that it is harmless. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to play with one—I mean when they’re all dressed up they’re not really guys. Nor are they girls. They’re something, well, in between. And if he really is a sissy, you could be his mistress as much as you are mine.”

“Oh. (Thoughtfully.) That’s interesting.”

“You said that there were some porn sites mentioned in the letter. The ones Ellen found in his search history. Let’s give them a look … .”

Kim and Sarah were wrapped up in each other’s arms when they awakened in the morning—the room rich with the scent of female sex.

Sarah stirred first—

“Wow, what got into us last night?”

“It was that damn sissy porn. Holy heck—some of that stuff is pretty hot.”

“I particularly liked the chastity thing. I didn’t know anything about that. Does it really work?”

“From what I understand, most of the devices aren’t very effective. But some are—you just have to find the right one. If you believe what is written, their primary benefit isn’t preventing the wearer from orgasming or having sex, though that’s how they function. . No, the primary benefit is the long-term effect of the constant sexual stimulation and denial. Apparently, by the conventional wisdom, it screws up the sissies’ minds, and they become tremendously obedient, subservient and malleable. And they love it! Hold on a second—please tell me that you aren’t thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

“Me? No. I’m not. Really I’m not. Well, maybe a little. But I would never. But just what are you thinking ?”

“It is kinda tempting, and could be a lot of fun. But, I don’t know.”

“Jeez. We can’t just pretend it’s not there—I know us. So, what do we do now?”

“I guess you, we, probably ought to start by looking through that journal.”

(Moving over and kissing Kim.)

“I think the journal can wait just a little longer … .”

Part 4

Sarah and Kim both worked at the local University. Sarah, who had a doctorate in library science, headed library operations and taught an occasional graduate-level class. Kim was a professor of psychology, and worked part time as a counselor in the University clinic. Sarah had generational wealth, and only worked because of the access to new information it enabled. Kim, who had become tenured at very young age, could work anywhere, and stayed at the University because of where it was located, and more importantly, because Kim was there.

As they kissed goodbye on their ways out the door for work, Kim noticed something in Sarah’s eyes, which told Kim that Sarah still wasn’t fully satisfied, even after last night, which meant both that Sarah needed something from a man and that before too long Kim was going to end up in the “suit.” Kim shivered at the thought, while at the same time involuntarily clenching and dampening down below. She shrugged—it wasn’t like she had a voice in the matter anyway.

Yes. The suit. Or rather, the suits, as there were several of them. Sarah still couldn’t get over how oddly she came to possess them.

It had begun several months after Kim had moved in and their relationship had begun. Sarah’s elderly great aunt, who lived up north, was failing physically, and Sarah took a leave of absence from work to help with her care.

Sarah was fond of her aunt, though she didn’t know much about her—except that she had been in a convent years ago. A convent in the Netherlands, in fact, and she had come to this country about 20 years ago. Sarah was the only family she had left.

The aunt’s convent had been located in a remote part of the Netherlands which was noted for the strictly conservative religious practices of its residents. Her aunt had been a member of an all female Order, whose primary tenet was the promotion of sexual abstinence. Many a local daughter had been delivered to the care of the convent for the sin of “immodest“ behavior. None voluntarily. Sarah’s aunt had been one of those daughters.

Sarah’s aunt had been welcomed into and became a member of the convent’s Order, in time becoming its head seamstress. And there is where what Sarah’s aunt shared with Sarah became rather strange. Sarah, though troubled by what her aunt shared, brushed it off as the ramblings of elderly mental decline. The truth, though, was that Sarah’s aunt wanted Sarah to know something. But what?

Several times, several evenings, Sarah’s aunt had described the final trial novitiates had to endure before becoming full members of the Order. It involved being dressed in a particular garment, or “vestment,” sewn by Sarah’s aunt. The purpose of the trial was to permanently and completely break the novitiate of carnal need, “separating the demon from the soul,” in their words, and, at least while her aunt had been at the convent, it had never failed. Each novitiate who underwent the trial willingly made and kept her oath of chastity and obedience.

When a girl at the convent turned 18, she would be fitted with three “purity rings,” one pierced through each nipple, and one through her clitoris, or “place of sin.”

According to Sarah’s aunt, the vestment was designed to be worn with three pieces of blessed silver, and three small (3 cm) but heavy silver balls. Two of the silver pieces would be fitted over the rings pierced through the novitiate’s nipples—covering her areole and the fronts of her breasts. The purpose of these pieces was to sexually stimulate the breasts—their pattern and textured undersides having been perfected though years and years of experimentation and study. The third piece covered the length of the girl’s cleft and her mons. The underside of this piece was also textured, and was engineered to force apart and penetrate the wearer’s sex. It was also internally ported to allow the wearer to pass water during a period of extended wear—-this was necessary as the trial did take time to complete, and the wearers did commonly lose control. The silver balls would be inserted in the novitiate’s vagina before the vaginal plate was secured.

Once the silver hardware was in place, the vestment would be cinched tight, and the purity rings would be passed through button hole-like openings in the vestment . The vestment would then be locked on by small padlocks threaded through the rings. Once locked on, it was unremovable by the subject without painfully damaging the wearer’s tender pierced flesh.

The vestment and accessories were intended to be sexually stimulating when worn, and they were, gently at first. Here is where years of experimentation and study by the nuns of the Order came into play. The wearer would find her arousal building slowly, as time passed, toward a peak, yet never decreasing. The slightest movement, even from only breathing, would increase the arousal—it was unrelenting. Even if the wearer climaxed, and at a point the wearer would start to climax continually, the arousal would not abate. Instead, it would continue to build and build. Eventually, the wearer would find the arousal to be unbearable, and the would become hysterical, begging for relief. The hysteria would lead to a terrified desperation, and the wearer would break mentally—her sexual yearnings permanently separated from her will. At this stage, the wearers would always be ready to make and accept their vows.

Her aunt told her that sha had hoped Sarah’s mother would join the order, and had even sewn a couple of garments which might fit her, but they had never been worn. Sarah’s mother had wed before the aunt had been able to convince her sister of the virtues of committing Sarah’s mother to the Order.

Sarah found this to be too incredibly fantastic to believe, but she listened and humored her aunt. It was only when Sarah saw her aunt naked while bathing that Sarah started to doubt her conclusion—her aunt still wore the rings of a novitiate.

Sarah’s aunt, in her will, left her few belongings to Sarah, and upon her passing her executor arranged for them to be shipped to Sarah. All doubt Sarah had about her aunt’s stories vanished when she opened a small trunk that had been shipped. Within the trunk were three white cotton garments, which looked only like heavy boned corset dresses or foundation garments from the 1940s or 50s. But also within the trunk were a box of purity rings, several complete sets of blessed silver and balls, a set of notes that detailed the trial ritual (how to fit and tighten the vestment and accessories, and the necessary preparations) and several hand-written journals, one of which noted in almost pornographic detail each novitiate’s trial experience going back more than 100 years. The notes and journals were written in Dutch—which Sarah could still read from her childhood and early adolescent training. Also in the trunk were a couple of boxes filled with other carefully wrapped silver pieces, obviously not for use in the trials, the purpose and function of which weren’t then obvious to Sarah

To say that Sarah and Kim were astonished when they opened the trunk would be a tremendous understatement. The Order had, due to a lack of interest in its practices, failed, and its property had been contributed to a larger church. However, Sarah’s aunt, the lone living member of the Order, until she too died, had sole custody of the remaining trial paraphernalia and was the repository of the Order’s sacred teachings and training manuals and records. The Order’s history of over 130 years was now in Sarah’s possession.

To Kim, after Sarah explained the trial to her, it was like a great trove of forbidden sex candy. Sarah’s reaction was more tempered, as she had heard first hand from her aunt the purposes and capabilities of it all. Still, neither could resist trying a garment on—of course with the accessories. Even without the purity rings and locks, and even though they had not been properly prepared, it didn’t take long for them to appreciate the raw power the garments possessed.

Sarah kept the notes and journal to herself, reading and learning about the practices of the Order—which went well beyond the trial. On occasion Sarah would have Kim dress in one of the suits (assisted by Sarah, who had learned well the instructions) and marinate while in the suit’s grasp. Sarah was very careful not to let Kim wear the suit for too long as that could have unwanted consequences for Kim. Sarah had even arranged, over Kim’s protestations, for three of the purity rings to be attached to Kim in the proper places. She was fond of joking that Kim was her own “personal novitiate.” The joke always made Kim uneasy.

Sarah liked nothing more than watching a helpless Kim fight against the suit.

The suit always won.

And yes, Kim would be spending time in the suit this weekend. Sarah could hardly wait!

Part 5

The hostess from the wine event wasted no time setting matters in motion. She first called her friend, the owner of Coda, a trendy and very popular local restaurant, and tentatively reserved several times for a dinner—of course at a table overlooking the beach and ocean. Impossibly romantic. Then she reached out to Sarah and Jim to fix a date. She decided to make it a true blind date—so neither would know with whom they were being fixed up.

Her conversation with Jim went well enough, and he reluctantly agreed to the date. Sarah was a tougher sell—she was, when she took the call, preoccupied by her plans for Kim later that day, and not really interested in anything else. It took some begging, but Sarah finally gave in. The date was set for the following Saturday at 7:30–the reservation under the hostess’s name. Neither Sarah nor Jim thought more about the arrangement until closer to the time.

The following week passed quickly, and couldn’t come soon enough for poor Kim—who had endured two sessions in the suit in the meantime, and was exhausted. Sarah had been sexually voracious since the wine tasting and Kim was more than relieved to have a night off.

He was the first to arrive at the restaurant, and they seated him at a table by the window. He had dressed nicely. Jacket, but no tie. Very presentable, he thought. As soon as he saw her at the hostess stand he recognized her—and his heart thumped. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her dress, a floral, pastel-hued sundress, perfect for the seaside, was matched with bone-colored sandals showing off her lovely pedicured feet and toes. She was stunning. He stood as she was escorted to the table—

“Ah, it’s you! Sarah, right?”

“Jim, right?”

They both smiled and laughed.

“Yes. Very good to see you again. I had no idea.”

“Nor did I. Let’s sit.”

The click between them was immediate and instant.

Just then a bottle of champagne appeared at their table—courtesy of their matchmaking friend.

“Cheers! To blind dates!”

“To blind dates!”

They both admitted that they had been disappointed with not getting each other’s contact information. They explored and talked like they had already been paired, and lingered over dinner. Jim shared that he had been widowed from his Ellen three years before, and that it had taken a while for him to get back on his emotional feet. Sarah shared about her early life, upbringing and education. Neither wanted to part company.

A thought came to Jim—

“This might seem a bit forward, but my place is not too far from here, and I do have a nice bottle of scotch I’ve been saving for a while. I don’t suppose … .”

“I would like that. I would like that very much!”

She followed him to his place. They kissed in the foyer, and left a trail of hastily discarded clothes all the way to the bedroom.

Their lovemaking was almost desperate—the first time. As their hunger reawakened again and again it became more measured, more calculated, and more pleasurable. The bottle of scotch never did get opened.

Morning came, and with it came one more act of coupling. Both Jim and Sarah were both satisfied and exhausted.

Jim left bed for the washroom and then the kitchen, returning with two large cups of coffee, milk and sugar. Sarah gratefully accepted the coffee, and sweetened it with a little sugar and added some milk.

“”Great coffee—and love the house! At least what I’ve seen of it.

“Thanks! It hasn’t had a lot of attention for a while, but it works.”

“Seriously, it is very nice. Ellen must have very nice taste.”

“She did, and thanks. By the way, you told me that you were a librarian. I.thought librarians were mousy puritanicals who never had fun and smelled funny. You cannot be one. Just not possible!”

“I’m not a librarian, jerk! (Smiling and laughing with her eyes.) I’m a ‘Library Scientist.’ I know things that you cannot imagine, and have the skills to find knowledge about anything I choose. So you, young man, best beware!”

“Okay, okay, I take it back. But wow! You were, or are, amazing!”

“Thank you. And you’re not half bad yourself.”

“It had been a while—glad I was able to please the lady!”

“And modest too. I like that.”

Later that morning, Kim smirked as Sarah made the “walk of shame” from her car to the front door. She gave Sarah a snarky—

“Well, look what the cat dragged in!”

Sarah was exhausted, slightly hung over, desperately in need of a shower from the night’s exertions, and definitely not in the mood for Kim’s impertinence—

“Collar, now!”

Once she was collared, Kim found herself on her knees between Sarah’s legs enjoying the “treat” that had been left for her there.

“Man cum—yuck! And lots of it—ewe! Me and my big mouth!” She thought as she cleaned her Mistress.”

Epilogue

Three very pretty bikini-clad young women, two hand in hand, are walking down the beach, as small waves gently lap the sand. It was late afternoon and the end of a perfect beach day. The tanned stomach of one of the girls, the one wearing a hat, had the definite beginnings of a bump .They hadn’t a care in the world.

After rinsing the sand off their feet and legs they retired to the ocean-fronting porch of a beach house. They watched the surf as the sun set behind them, and talked of small things. Time seemed pleasantly suspended. One of the ladies, who wore a thin silver eternity collar around her neck, brought out cool drinks from the kitchen—freshly squeezed lemonade for the pregnant one, and crisp white wine for herself and the other.

They had ended up there after getting away from a collective life that had gotten quite out of hand—so much so that it had come close to fracturing their relationships. They had escaped with little time to spare, so it seemed.

As the girl serving starts to hand a glass of wine to the other, the other girl, smiling, holds up her hand in a stopping motion.

“I think I should probably stick to lemonade too.”

It takes a second for the import of what she said to sink in. The girl serving asks—

“You mean?” (Glancing at the girl in the hat, and then back to the other girl.) “You too?”

“Yes! You’re going to be a daddy! This makes two!”

“That’s absolutely fantastic! God, I love you!”

The girls all hug excitedly. The girl who is serving breaks away.

I’ll be right back!”

She returns with another glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade and a double Old Fashioned glass filled to the brim with bourbon and ice. She definitely needs a drink!

This day was a long time coming.

When Tracy, Bill and Candi-Floss had gotten back to Tracy’s apartment after the matter of Elijah there was a whole lot to talk about. And Bill, who had had enough of lisping, took out his tongue piercing for the conversation.

First, there was the apology to Bill from Tracy.

“It was all my fault. Elijah offered to help because I couldn’t bring myself to hurt you. I thought he was a friend, and instead he betrayed me, and hurt, really hurt, you. And those terrible things he did to you. I’m so, so sorry! I would understand if you left and never came back. I would understand if you never forgave me!”

Bill considers this for a moment.

“You know what he did to me?” (Hoping she doesn’t.)

“Yes.”

Hurt shows in his eyes.

“And didn’t ask him to do that?”

“Only to lock the chastity on and oversee your punishment. The rest, what he did with his cock, was all him. And I had no idea.”

“I see. And calling him Master?”

“Again his idea. He wouldn’t give me the keys to your chastity. I had to do something. I was desperate. And he was going to do to me what he did to you, and I was going to let him. I’m so, so sorry!”

“So what happened?”

“Well, you remember Abagail? My friend from lunch the other day?”

“The one with the hypodermic and girl juice?”

“Yes. She found out what Elijah had done and was planning to do and she told me. We just had to rescue you, to rescue us, from this mess.”

“So we developed a plan … .”

Tracy proceeded to tell Bill how the plan all came together and how Candi-Floss had heroically delivered the critical shot.

Bill couldn’t help but smile when Tracy told him that it had been Candi-Floss’s idea to subdue Elijah with a tranquilizer pistol, and how she had gone every day, dressed in an olive-drab military green halter top with matching shorts and cap, wearing tan suede army boots, to the pistol range to practice her shot. Her only complaint had been that the shooting made her feel “horny as hell.” Then again the horniness may have been from all the guys who congregated around her when she was practicing. In any event, when everything settled down she was planning to join the NRA. Tracy did have to talk her out of enlisting in the army, though. The NRA was their compromise.

And Candi-Floss had changed into and worn her “shooting outfit “ when she took down Elijah.

After Tracy was done with the story, Bill smiled and sighed.

“Tracy, darling, how could I not forgive you? I love you, and even if you had done all that I still would love you. And any of those things he did to me I would have gladly endured for you. But I think we both need to be more careful going forward. Maybe all this wasn’t such a good idea after all. And Candi-Floss, you saved us. Both of us! I don’t know how we can ever repay you!”

“Shucks, guys. You would have done the same for me. But for repayment, Tracy, you could start by taking these damn chastity contraptions off of us. We all need something. And I need it badly and your boy, uh, girl, here, has just the thing!”

It was one heckuva night. Halfway through, when Bill was about to give out, they forced one of those “pills” on him—thus fortified, he kept going until sunrise. The exhausted three slept until afternoon.

Bill woke first, and made coffee. The girls gratefully accept their cups. Tracy started the conversation that had to be had—

“So what now? Bill, Candi-Floss and I had decided to close up the studio and move from here, from this area, but that’s about as far as we got. What do you think?”

He is silent for a moment, weighing options.

“Well, back east I have a house at the beach and one in the mountains, both in North Carolina, and I had always planned to retire to them. Why don’t we all three take up residence there until we can make a better plan? Both have more than enough room. The beach house will be rented for a couple of months, but the mountain house is open.”

And so it was decided. Tracy did need to arrange for more time off from work and to be able to work remotely, both of which were fine with her employer. And Candi-Floss was looking forward to a new adventure. They spent the next week packing and making preparations. They decided to take the contents of the playroom and Tracy’s toy collection with them —just for “fun,” and “just in case,” they reasoned.

On the second night Candi-Floss worked her last shift at the Club, and didn’t come home that night or the next. She had kept in touch with Tracy the whole time, so no alarms were triggered. On the morning she returned she was walking tenderly and an absolute mess. There could be no doubt as to what she had been up to. Tracy just rolled her eyes, but did admonish her about being safety conscious, at least as long as she, Tracy and Bill were a “throuple.” Candi-Floss said that she had already thought about that and had taken precautions. This pleased Tracy.

Both girls were impressed with the mountain house. Neither really had thought that beneath Bill’s bra and panties was a man of such substantial means. Tracy had known that Bill was okay financially, but he had always been modest about it and never flexed. And while it was in the mountains, it was in one of the more upscale mountain resort areas.

As far as their three-way relationship was concerned, both Bill and Candi-Floss adored Tracy.
Bill and Candi-Floss also had come to love each other in a brotherly-sisterly kind of way, albeit with benefits. Tracy accepted and even encouraged this, as she loved Candi-Floss as a submissive girlfriend and lover and owed her a tremendous debt of gratitude. Tracy also knew that she, Tracy, would always be Bill’s one and only true love. There was never any jealousy among them. And Tracy had made it clear to Candi-Floss that, unless they were actually “playing,” Candi-Floss and Bill were equals, and that Tracy was still very much the alpha.

Once the beach house came vacant they moved down there for the warmer weather. The house itself and the charming little beach town were idyllic.

As far as their “indoor games,” playing with Tracy’s toys and making Bill do the “maid” thing, were concerned, it continued, but in a more relaxed and playful way. And Bill was given input on the rules. He soon learned that the hornier he and the girls were when the rules were negotiated the harder it ended up being for him. But the rules were absolutely respected and just as absolutely enforced. Candi-Floss and Tracy even invented a game, “Capture the Maid,” which Bill both loved and hated. But as long as he was let go once he had been released from chastity and used for sex, he was happy to play along. And after all, someone still needed to do the laundry and tidy the house.

Just about the time they relocated to the beach Tracy’s company was purchased, netting her a considerable sum through the exercise of her stock options, and allowing her to formally retire. Her net worth was, though, still considerably less than Bill’s.

Candi-Floss found a place in an adjacent beach town at which she could dance, and did occasionally disappear for a night or two, but kept it clean.

Which brings us to Bill. He didn’t want, or at least wasn’t ready, to go back to his guy life, and liked doing the girl thing. He was still excited by the underwear, makeup, shoes and clothes, but it was a more wholesome excitement—a truly girlish kind of excitement. He wanted to try having breasts, which he had done (polite little “C” cups, courtesy of the best clinic in Atlanta) with the girls’ blessings. At the same time, he had work done to his Adam’s apple—he was now more than passable. The girls made it clear, though, that his cock was never to go under the knife, unless he wanted to suffer “severe” consequences. He had gotten so good at taping and tucking that it didn’t even make a difference to his girl life. He was fine with this. Besides, he liked his cock.

As for Elijah, Abagail may have been a little over enthusiastic when she filled that hypodermic. He never really regained his “mojo,” but not to worry as he found a lot of new “friends.” He now resided almost full time in what had been the Maid’s Quarters at the studio, and even sported a tramp stamp, of which he was quite proud, that read “CumDump.” The studio was always immaculate.

With two children, both Bill’s, on the way, there would be a lot to discuss and many decisions to make. While the girls decided behind his back and made clear to Bill that he would be their “nanny,” the three of them had yet to decide who the “mommies” would be, or whether Bill would be “daddy,” and all that. But they had time and each others’ love, and knew it would all work out.

Life was good.

Part 28

Bill was thrilled to be with Tracy, and Tracy was thrilled to be with her Bill. But there was a lot unsaid. Still, they were glad to be together.

She had bought a few things for the apartment and was excited about showing him around.

“You are going to love what I got for you in the playroom,” leading him in. There, the room had been outfitted as a mini dungeon, with a stirruped bondage chair, a spanking horse, a metal cage and a couple of other things the purposes of which were not immediately apparent to him. It looked more than mildly ominous.

“All thith ith for me?”

“Yes darling. You’re going to love it!”

He swallows hard, not knowing quite what to say and not wanting to hurt her feelings.

“Wow! That’th awethome!”

“And here’s your bedroom–for when you’re not sleeping with me.”

One of the guest bedrooms had been redone in all pink and white with satin and ruffles everywhere. It smelled unmistakably girlie. She showed him his new clothes—absolutely over the top! Bras, panties, corsets and other shapewear, stockings, and nightwear. His cock was straining in its confines.

“And (showing him the closet), these are your uniforms. I had them custom made just for you. And everything else that you’ll need—pinafores, headpieces, shoes—aren’t they perfect!?”

A dozen dresses in various cuts and colors hung neatly in the closet. He ran his hand over a couple of the dresses, examining them.

“Maid’th dretheth?”

“Of course maid’s dresses. But we can talk about that tomorrow. C’mon, let’s get ready for bed. I’ve already picked out a nightie for you, and I’ll help you take off your makeup. I cannot wait to get my hands on you!”

Bill was all for that!

Soon they were under the sheets making out passionately.

“Trathy, you feel tho good! And I really need thith! I heven”t cum in three weekth. If you want to take off thith chathtity then we can make love. Are you ready?”

She answers almost distractedly, still kissing him all over.

“Oh, I cannot do that.”

“You cannot? Why’th that?”

She keeps kissing him.

“Because Elijah has the keys. He’s keeping them for a while.”

“Who’th Elijah?”

“He’s a domme friend of mine. He’ll be helping me with your training. You’ve met him. He was the one who put the chastity cage on you at the studio.”

Bill shivers involuntarily—horrified . The “Master” has the keys to his chastity!

She continues with the kissing.

“But why doeth he have the keyth?”

“He said something about needing to hold on to them until you’re far enough along in your training, or something like that.”

“Then how are we going to have thex ?”

“Well, you’re not, at least not for a while. According to the conventional wisdom it’s very clear that Mistresses should never allow themselves to be penetrated by their sissies. But I’ll make an exception for you. At least when the time is right.”

“No thex for me?”

“That’s correct. I assumed that you’d have expected that. If not, you’ll get over it.”

“But what about you?”

“Silly! That’s what your tongue ball is for!”

Part 29

Tracy was insatiable. It was early morning before they drifted off to sleep.

What Bill hadn’t noticed about his bedroom was that there was no interior knob on the hallway door. It locked from the outside. Nor had he taken the time to examine the bed. Tracy had purchased it from Metalbound just for him. It had been designed to enable the occupant to be held captive indefinitely and had other bespoke “features” Tracy had personally chosen.

And the Maid’s Quarters at Tracy’s studio? It had once been fitted up by Tracy as a prison cell for some of her more perverted patrons. The conversion to a Maid’s Quarters was simple—really no more than putting a bed pad, sheets, a thin blanket and a pillow over the top of the padded bondage bench, and adding a metal desk, bolted to the wall, that could double as a vanity or makeup table. It was still very much a functional jail cell, with its one small window even having thick metal bars, and the stout metal closet doors having high-security locks. Bill maybe could have been able to connect the dots from the prison-surplus metal sink—toilet combination, but it went unnoticed.

Morning came, and Tracy shooed Bill out of her bed to make coffee. He returned with two steaming cups.

“Bill, honey, Candi-Floss is going to come over in a little to help you with your makeup and get you dressed. So we are going to have to go over some rules. There will be more rules as we progress, but we will start with the basics.”

“You remember how to address your Mistress?

“Mithtreth. Yes Mithtreth .”

“Good girl.”

Bill winces at the “good girl.” She continues—

“Now the same rule applies to talking to Elijah or Candi-Floss. Except he is ‘Master’ or ‘Sir,’ and she is always ‘Miss.’ And you must never speak unless spoken to. Is that clear?”

“Mithtreth yes Mithtreth.”

“You do know to curtsy whenever you are entering or leaving a room, and whenever you address a superior?

“Mithtreth. Yes, Mithtreth,”

“Very good. Now about your duties as a maid … .

Bill interrupts—

“Excuthe me Trathy, but you never said anything about being your maid. I don’t know … ..”

“Didn’t you just tell me that you understood the rules about addressing your superiors?”

“Yeth, I do but … .”

“Quiet! Stop this minute!”

Bill notices a flash of anger in Tracy’s eyes. She picks up a small book, opens it and makes a note.

“If I haven’t made this clear by now I will make it crystal clear again. I am doing this for you, on my terms, it’s what you asked for, and what you agreed to. There will be no back talk. And every act of disobedience, every failure to comply, every breach of etiquette, no matter how minor, will be subject to correction, both by me or Candi-Floss, and by Elijah. And each transgression will be noted in this book, your ‘punishment log,’ for Elijah to deal with appropriately during your trainings with him.And also, to be clear, you are to obey Candi-Floss and Elijah, as well as your other superiors, as you obey me.”

“Now, shall we continue?”

A sense of alarm washes over Bill. This was very much unexpected. He swallows hard.

“Mithtreth. Yeth , Mithtreth.”

“Vey good. Now where were we? Yes. Your duties and responsibilities as a maid.”

“I expect impeccable and appropriate dress at all times. Perfect hair and makeup. Uniform clean and ironed. Perfect nails. No runs in your stockings. Perfume. All these things. Any departure from what is expected will be noted in the punishment log. Candi-Floss, who will also have access to the log, will mentor you on these matters as well as with respect to the cleaning and tidying that will need to be taken care of here and at the studio. Is THAT understood?”

“Mithtreth. Yes Mithtreth.”

“ The only place where the rules will be relaxed, and even there not completely, will be in my bed chambers. Once you leave my rooms, you are a maid. My maid. And you will behave accordingly. Again, is THAT clear?”

“Mithtreth. Yes Mithtreth.”

“Good. For your sake I hope you do. When it comes to behavior correction, Elijah can be quite merciless”

“Now, while we are waiting for Candi-Floss, let’s practice your curtsies.”

Part 30

Candi-Floss eventually arrives and she takes Bill to his bedroom to prepare him for his first day as a maid. She explains that he will need to match his dresses to the time of day—pink or light yellow for mornings, light blue or gray for afternoons and black for evenings. Always with color-matched shoes and stockings, and always with a pinafore and headpiece. And all are to be kept clean and ironed.

Candi-Floss explains that Bill will be instructed by her on how to be a ladies maid—-how to serve Mistress Tracy in her bath and toilet—to bathe her, dress her, and tend to her hair and makeup. He will learn by performing these services for Candi-Floss, and won’t be allowed near Mistress Tracy for these purposes, until he has achieved an adequate proficiency. Poor achievement will be noted in the log. Until he achieves the necessary level of proficiency, she will be coming over several mornings of the week while Tracy is at work so that he can practice on her.

All laundry, Tracy’s, hers and, if he should require it, even Master’s, is to be done by him. Ironed, if necessary, and all delicates, bras, panties, and other items, are to be hand washed. And he will be graded on how well the laundry is done, folded and put away. Deficiencies will be noted in the log.

He will be responsible for the cleanliness of the apartment and the studio, including the wiping up of semen and other bodily fluids and sanitizing equipment after sessions. There is a washer and dryer at the studio, and studio laundry can be done there.

And eventually, he will be responsible for household shopping, but only after he has mastered the basics.

“But Cand-Floth, what will I wear thopping?”

She says nothing, but deliberately picks up the punishment log and makes a note.

Bill realizes he has misstepped.

“Care to say that again? And were you spoken to?”

“Mith. Thorry Mith. I wath not, Mith.”

“Better. Much better. And in answer to your question, many domestics can be found shopping at the market.”

It’s quite a lot to take in. After a while, Bill is starting to wither from the weight of what he has gotten himself into. He feels stressed, and his mind is saturated. Candi—Floss decides to save the rest for later.

“Now let’s get you dressed, I’m sure Mistress Tracy cannot wait to see her maid in uniform!”

Bill showers, and towels and dries his hair Candi-Floss teaches him how to use the blow dryer, a flat iron and hairspray to style it as it had been styled the day before.

She tells him that he should always check, and trim, if necessary, his eyebrows. Every morning. Bushy or unkempt eyebrows will always earn a notation in the log.

She allows him to try doing his own makeup. She is surprised at how well he does. “He’s done this before,” she thinks. With little touch up from her he’s done. She applies setting spray.

Candi-Floss decides to bait her mentee-

“I must say you are a natural sissy! It took me several years in my teens to be able to be able to do my makeup so well. No wonder Mistress Tracy chose you. She must have known how effeminate you were all along.”

He blushes furiously.

“But that’th not true! Take it back!”

She twists the knife—

“Yes it is. It’s completely true. Only you couldn’t see it.”

He hates this.

She picks up the log and makes a note. The slut tricked him. He realizes his misstep, yet holds his tongue. He’s starting to learn.

“I see that you do understand. Several marks in the book already—Master is going to have quite the time with you!”

Bill feels his helplessness.

“Now, today’s underwear—let’s see. But first, this!! (She holds up a yellow-jeweled anal plug.)

Bill groans. She efficiently buries the plug in his ass.

By now Candi-Floss’ panties are quite damp. and she is feeling a needy frustration. She decides, out of a sexually frustrated spite, that today’s underwear will not be pleasurable for Bill. What better way is there to inflict discomfort on a girl than heavy foundation garments? The very thought makes her even wetter.

She remembers seeing an open-bottom Rago all- in-one body shaper among Bill’s new underwear. Perfect. Extra firm control and very difficult to wear over a long day. Sweat inducing foam pads to fill out the bosom, bone stockings, white satin panties and a bone-colored nylon full slip. “He’ll sound deliciously swishy when he walks!”, she thinks. All of this amplifies her arousal and frustration.

Once his underclothes are on, she hands him a light yellow gingham dress , with white ruffled trim, from the rack. Then a matching headpiece, ruffled pinafore and locking bone-colored pumps. A spritz of perfume and he is ready for the great reveal. She attaches a leash to the ring on his collar and leads him out.

Bill quickly decides that he does not like wearing the body shaper. Not one bit. But the realization that he is trapped in it for the rest of the day causes his dick to try to swell even more within its confines. “What’s happening to me?”, he wonders.

“Now remember your curtsies!”

“Mith. Yeth Mith.”

Part 31

Tracy is thrilled and elated to see Bill in full working maid livery for the first time. He curtsies and looks at her expectantly hoping for a compliment, but receives none—only a rebuke—

“Maid—eyes down, at my waist or feet. You are not permitted eye contact with your Master or Mistress unless given permission. Candi-Floss, make a note.”

“Mistress. Yes Mistress.”

Candi-Floss opens the log and notes the transgression.

Tracy’s demeanor is wholly different from in her bedroom. She’s no longer the affectionate girlfriend or lover. Instead, she is the Mistress of the house,, all business and in absolute and strict control. And he is now nothing more than a maid.

“Very nice job, Candi-Floss, especially for the first day.”

“Mistress. Thank you Mistress.”

“Candi-Floss, I have al little work to do this morning. In the meantime, I want you to work with her on her voice and walk. I want her speaking softly and breathily, from the front of the mouth, not the chest. You know what I’ll be looking for in the walk. And I have a guest coming for lunch at 1:00. I want her to serve, and she will be graded. Uniform change will be at 2:00, after lunch. Later than usual for today only, as I have something special for her.”

“You are dismissed.”

Bill gets through the rest of the morning more or less unscathed, except for a couple of cuts of the cane administered by Candi-Floss in a fit of rage over his walking. All corrected now—the perfect walk—elbows tightly in, palms facing down, mincing steps and audibly swishy hips. An equal amount of progress had been made on the talk.

At close to 1:00 the doorbell rang. Bill met Tracy’s guest at the door with a polite greeting and curtsy, and escorted her back—receiving a “so pretty” by way of a compliment.

Linch went reasonably well, thanks in large part to Candi-Floss’s tutoring . Only three demerits were noted in the punishment log.

At 2:00, Candi-Floss asks if they may be excused as the “Maid” needs to change for the afternoon.

“Yes. But before she puts on her afternoon dress, bring her back here, dressed only in her underwear. My friend here needs to examine her.”

This, of course, horrifies Bill, and puzzles Candi-Floss. When they return, Tracy’s friend’s bag is open on the table. The friend speaks—

“Bring her to me, girl.”

Candi-Floss delivers the leashed Bill to the woman.

“Now turn down her top. I want to see her breasts.”

Candi-Floss does as told. Bill dares not move.

The friend proceeds to poke and prod around Bill’s breasts—still tender from the piercings . She dons a pair of surgical gloves, swabs the areas around his nipples with alcohol, and, after filling a syringe from a small vial, administers several injections around his nipples and areolas.

“There. All done. You may get her dressed.”

By the look on his face, Tracy can tell Bill is distressed.

“What is it Maid?”

“Mistreth. Ith that going to give me breatht Mithreth?”

“No Maid. Not Breasts.”

Bill is noticeably relieved

“But something much better, Maid. Your areolas will enlarge, and your nipples will fatten and grow. And soon, a small knot of breast tissue will appear around the nipple—just like a girl starting puberty. That’s all. Breasts? No. At least not for now. I want your chest to be that of an effeminate male, not of a girl. But to those who see it it will have the promise of breasts to come. If I want to play with a pair of girl’s tits I have Pusscakes for that.”

“Now get dressed and finish cleaning up the kitchen and dishes. And there is laundry to do!”

“Mithtreth. Yeth, Mithtreth.”

Part 32

Bill had read enough about the maid thing to know, at this early stage, a lot of what would be expected of him. So, for the first few days he reluctantly went with it, enjoyed some of it even. But he was still learning. As would be expected, there had been many notations in the punishment log. Most by Candi-Floss, who seemed to take great delight in making sure his transgressions wouldn’t go unpunished. He wondered whether she did it out of jealousy, because she wanted to please their Mistress, or for some other reason. Regardless of her motivations, many departures from required behaviors had been noted over a relatively short period of of time.

On his third day as a maid, and just after he had changed into his evening uniform Tracy’s apartment doorbell rang. Bill swished his way to the door, high heels clicking. He opened the door only to find Elijah. Bill froze, paralyzed.

An awkward moment passed. Elijah broke the silence—

“Stupid Maid! Aren’t you supposed to politely greet your Mistress’s guests?”

Bill partially regained his composure and curtsied, his eyes focused down upon, and oddly drawn to, the dominant male’s crotch.

“Thir. Yeth Thir. Right thith way, Thir. I will let Mithtreth Trathy know you are here, Thir.”

Bill curtsies again.

“Now is that anyway to greet your Master? And I am your Master, am I not?”

“Thir. Yeth Thir. You are my Mathter, Thir.

“The act like it! Worship!”

Without even a pause, Bill, having been triggered, drops to his knees and starts kissing and licking Elijah’’s shoes. As the scent of the shoes and feet registers, Bill is triggered again, and his cock immediately swells and painfully pushes against its prison. This unnerves Bill, who cannot even come close to explaining these reactions to himself.

“That’s enough, Maid. ‘Kneel’.”

Bill obediently relaxes to a kneeling position, his eyes again focused on the area between Elijah’s legs. He notices that the bulge is now much larger. He can even see the outlines of an erection. Another trigger. Bill’s cock strains even more.

“Now say it again, and this time mean it! Say ‘You are my Master’.”

“Thir. You are my Mathter, Thir.”

Bill is impossibly aroused by this.

“Good girl. Now fetch your Mistress, Maid. And be quick. And get me a beer while you are at it. Oh, and Maid, today it isn’t ‘Sir’ or ‘Master,’ it is only ‘Master.’ Understood?”

“Mathter. Yeth Mathter.”

Bill escorts “Master” back to the living room, and noisily swishes off to find Mistress Tracy and a beer. Elijah is struck by the change in Bill. He’s even more effeminate than he could have imagined, and after only three days.

Tracy and Elijah end up sitting and talking in the living room. After Bill refills her glass with wine and hands another chilled beer to Elijah, he is dismissed to his room and told to close the door. The door immediately locks. Tracy and Elijah can now speak about him freely.

“Wow, Tracy, I gotta say. You and the slut have made a lot of progress. But has he always been such a swish?”

“Bill? No. Hell no. You would have never known. And hetero to the core.”

“Well, we know how that goes with these sissies. And no longer his choice anyway.”

“No longer his choice? How so?”

“The hypnosis tapes pretty much opened him up to a more ‘enlightened’ view of these things.”

“I see. You could have at least told me. But I guess there’s no .real harm.”

“The files also implanted various post-hypnotic triggers. I’ve written them down for you.” (Handing her a piece of paper.) “ I just tried a couple of them out and they worked perfectly. You may want to incorporate them into your training. You may even be able to associate them with the Gorean training if you take him down that path.”

“Thank you.”

“Would tomorrow work for another of our classes and his first punishment session?”

“I suppose. Though I really don’t want to watch the punishments.”

“I can do that here, while you’re at work. When you get home, you and I can tie him and the slut up and then do our class. Sound good?

“That’ll work. What time?”

“Can I see the log?”

Tracy hands him the book, and he looks through it.

“I think two or three hours should be enough.”

“That long?”

“Yes. There’s a lot written down.”

“Okay. I’ll be home at 6:00. Does 2:00 work for you?”

“Yes. And I’ll send you a few more hypnosis files. You’ll want to keep up with that aspect of his training.”

“More files? I guess. But only if you tell me exactly what they do.”

“I will summarize each. Promise. Now can we play with him a little more? Maybe try out some of those triggers?”

“Why not?”

Part 25

Bill had been in a few sex shops, and seen, at least in photographs or online, a lot of S&M play spaces, but nothing had prepared him for Tracy’s studio. It was impressive! It had cages, crosses, bondage benches, a rack and every implement of discipline and restraint Bill could imagine, and then some. Alll thoughtfully and tastefully done. There were several rooms. A white-tiled and stainless steel medical suite, two rooms with bondage furniture and toys, and a dark room at the end of the space into which he could not really see. There was even a room, the door of which was closed, marked “Maid’s Quarters.”

Bill swallows hard as he is led in, and is awestruck. This is what he travelled across the country for. And this is all Tracy’s! The reality of his situation starts to sinks in. He starts to have second thoughts.

Candi-Floss senses this, and quickly leads him to the back room.

“You’ll have plenty of of time to look around later.”

She turns on the lights. The only furniture in the back room is a One Bar Prison, bolted to a heavy sheet of metal in the middle of the room. It has cuffs attached both at the top of the bar and at its base.

“We must hurry. Stand, back to the bar, facing the front of the room.”

She cuffs his wrists behind his back. They’re now attached to the top of the bar. She locks the cuffs around his ankles as well. Bill cannot move.

“I’m sorry to leave you like this, Babes, but I have no choice. Mistress Tracy’s orders.”

She kisses his cheek. She walks to the side of the room and flips a switch, and three spotlights illuminate—all shining down on Bill.

“Good luck, sweetie!”

She turns to leave.

“Hey, wait, don’t leave me like thith!”

But she walks out.

An eternity, or what seems like an eternity, passes. He looks around the room. Black velvet drape’s covering the walls, and several full- length mirrors. He can see himself on display from several angles.

“I just hope I’m not too fucked,” he thinks.

He hears footsteps. Heavy footsteps.

Part 26

Back when he was actively practicing in the scene Tracy’s friend had been known to many as a “domme’s domme.” Other Masters iwould bring to him their “boys,” and female dubs as well, for indoctrination and training. He was very very good at it. In truth, that was how the legend of his dominant prowess started. He could return to them a fully-compliant submissive from which the client would receive trouble free pleasure and obedience–with the submissive from then on living in the shadow of the ever-present and terrifying threat of being taken back to the domme for further compliance and obedience training. He made considerable sums through these “educational” activities, but eventually became bored and tired of it, and moved on to other interests.

But he wasn’t bored with the prospect of breaking Bill. He was quite looking forward to it, in fact. This was one of the last steps to be taken—the product of careful planning and manipulation, and the final objective was in sight. If ultimately successful, he would look at this as his crowning achievement. If not successful, then all those months of effort would have been wasted. But today would be successful. Very successful. And one final thing would remain.

The hypnosis recordings he had shared with Tracy were very carefully chosen. The first was to teach Bill how to go into trance, the second to cause amnesia during trance, and the last two implanted post hypnotic behavioral triggers. Because of the trance-induced amnesia, Bill would be consciously unaware of the content of the last two files and would be unable to resist the triggers, or even be aware of having been triggered. The domme knew Tracy wouldn’t have listened to the recordings as she was personally averse to being hypnotized, so she wouldn’t have any idea of the programming to which Bill had been subjected. The domme would share some, but not all, of the triggers with her later.

For Bill’s first “lesson” the domme wore a black leather vest, unfastened in the front, black leather chaps, open to display his ass and, most importantly, his cock and balls, and black leather boots.

Candi-Floss let him know that Bill had been secured per his instructions to the single bar, and was ready.

It was time!

Bill was a bundle of nerves, too nervous to even muster an erection. He knows that by the time he is with Tracy later in the evening he will have recovered and be able to perform. But for now, he is completely limp.

The domme enters the room.

“Well, what kind of a sissy girl do we have here?”

Bill, who had been awaiting Tracy, is confused.

“Who are you? And where’th Trathy?”

“I am a friend of hers, and she asked me to help her sort you out. You may call me ‘Master,’ or ‘Sir.’

Bill notices for the first time the domme’s semi-hard cock hanging down in front of him, and starts trying to struggle against his restraints. There is no escaping the heavy metal of the bar and cuffs.

“There mutht be thome mithunderthtanding. I want a Mithtreth, Mithtreth Traythy, not a Mathter. So ‘Thir’, you are mithtaken. I’m not into guyth! Now let me go!”

“There is no misunderstanding, I am here because Tracy asked me to be here. And if there has been a mistake, sissy, it is you who have made it! And whether you are into girls, guys or something else is now up to me and your Mistress, and no longer up to you.”

Yes, this critical first encounter with Bill had been planned for by the domme over a period of months and he had carefully prepared for, scripted and rehearsed every detail, with the triggers and evoked imagery from the hypnosis files having been designed for that very first moment. Poor Bill never even knew he had been targeted, and was unable to form any thought of resisting or fighting. He never knew what had hit him.

Bill’s new Master relished every moment, and left Bill fully submissive. Tracy hadn’t asked for this, but it was a necessary part of the domme’s larger strategy. The domme had also done what he had told Tracy that he would do—Bill’s cock was now locked away in the chastity device he had ordered from Miss Lori. As he had told Tracy, he would be keeping the keys until he thought she had trained Bill adequately. But in truth, his real purpose was to make sure she didn’t have access to Bill’s cock—thus setting up the final stage of the plan. There would be no competition for Tracy from Bill’s cock—he had just seen to that.

As for Bill, he was forced to submit, involuntarily and absolutely. By the time the domme had finished with him, Bill was as every bit as submissive to him and obedient as any boy he had ever trained, and was terrified of what ‘Master’ might choose to do to him in the future. And, at least to the domme, this was good.

After the breaking was done, and after Bill obediently debased himself by licking the domme’s boots to the domme’s satisfaction, the domme left Bill to Candi-Floss’s care, and departed the studio with the keys to Bill’s chastity.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, real soon, sissy.”

Tracy would be there shortly—she couldn’t wait to see her pretty Bill.

Part 27

Candi-Floss returned to the back room to find Bill a mess—makeup smeared, hair disheveled and clothes askew.

“Oh dear! Look at you! Mistress Tracy is not going to be happy with what you’ve done to yourself.”

“Done to myself? Are you __?”

Candi-Floss cuts him off—

“Quick, let’s get you to your quarters, clean you up.and get you dressed.”

She leads Bill to the room marked “Maid’s Quarters”, punches in a series of numbers on a keypad, and unlocks the door. Inside the room are an odd-looking metal sink and toilet, a metal bed and side table, a metal desk and a double-doored closet. There are several wall-mounted mirrors snd a ceiling-mounted mirror as well. Bill notices that some of his makeup products, a beauty blender and brushes are arranged on the vanity. He doesn’t think anything about this.

Candi-Floss goes into action.

“”First, let’s get you changed.”

She unlocks and opens the metal closet doors revealing an institutional built- in chest of drawers, several neatly hung dresses and a rack holding shoes of various styles. Among the dresses is the pink Pretty Ribbons Uniform he and Tracy had worn on his birthday weekend . Candi-Floss takes the hanger holding the pink dress and petticoat off the bar.

“You will put this on. And (taking a few items from the top drawer of the chest) here are the matching panties, suspender belt and bra to put on first. Now be quick!”

Bill, responding to the urgency in her voice, quickly and obediently does as told. While he is dressing, she grabs the pink stockings and helps him on with them. Bill quickly finds himself fully dressed in that wonderful uniform and all the trimmings. His cock tries to become erect, but the chastity cage perfectly prevents iit.

“And here are your new shoes.”

She produces a pair of mid-heeled pink patent leather and ribboned serving shoes. He slides his stockinged feet into them. She ties the laces and locks them on.

“Good. Now let’s fix your hair and makeup.”

It takes a minute or two, but she expertly puts Bill’s hair and face back together.

“”Now your ribbons.”

She helps Bill fasten the mincing ribbons to his wrists and ankles.

“Now bend over!”

She pulls down his panties and slides the greased pink-jeweled plug into his backside.

“Ooh! That hurt!”

“You’ll just have to deal with it! And now the final touch. Mistress had this luxury lace maid’s cap made especially for you.”

“Maid’th cap?”

“Yes. Every maid must wear one, silly.””

“But I’m … .”

Tracy had said nothing about being a maid

“Shush! We don’t have time for that!”

She places ithe pink cap on his head and fastens it to his hair

“Done! Now, quickly, back to the room.”

Less than a minute later, Bill found himself once again locked to the Une Bar Prison, but this time only by a chain running from the top of the bar to a ring sewn into the back of his dress. His arms are free. The mincing ribbons fly freely when he moves his arms.

Candi-Floss steps back to review her work. She is satisfied—

“Okay, Mistress Tracy will be here shortly.”

She spritzes his neck with a touch of perfume and adjusts the level of the spotlights.

“All good.”

Bill looks at his reflection in the mirrors and moves his arms to test what he sees. He is amazed at the picture he presents. He cannot believe it is he.

Tracy arrives, and almost runs to her Bill. They embrace, and she kisses him hungrily. Her tongue searches for and finds his tongue ball. She loves it!

“Darling, I can’t believe it’s you. You’re so beautiful! The absolutely perfect sissy. My absolutely perfect sissy!”

She kisses him again,, but hurriedly breaks away.

“There’s one more thing!”

“She retrieves from a box a polished stainless Talena collar from Axsmar, with a sliding ring, opens it at the hinge, places it around Bill’s neck and ”click.”

“There! You’re now completely mine!”

Bill had been silent the whole time, finding it hard to form thoughts. Finally he speaks—

“Trathy ! God I’ve mithed you tho much! I cannot tell you how much I’ve mithed you and wanted to be with you. But ithn’t thith a bit fatht ? I mean, I jutht got here.”

Candi-Floss giggles and rolls her eyes.

“Mistress. I don’t think she understands, Mistress.”

“Obviously not, but she will. We’ll have plenty of time to sort her out. Let’s get her back to the apartment. “

Part 16

As Tracy re-immersed herself in the scene, her relationship with Bill continued and, at least while they were together, continued to strengthen. But when they were apart, she struggled with several discordant feelings and emotions. She was increasingly troubled by not having told Bill that she had again become a practicing dominatrix. She didn’t know how to broach the topic with him, and worried that her secret would eventually destroy what they had between them. And what they had between them was more precious than anything.

She felt no guilt at all over having slept with Candi-Floss and taken her as her personal submissive. The slut should have known better and deserved what she got. Besides, the perverted little bitch liked it. And Tracy honesty thought that Bill would approve of what she had done. That is, once she confessed that she had returned to her prior life, once he had forgiven her deception, and once he had.accepted it as part of their relationship, of course.

She was also bothered by how much she had thought about having submitted to him. Sexually bothered. The being “sexually bothered” was even present while she was doing a session with a sub, any sub. She found herself increasingly imagining how she would feel if someone had been doing to a submissive her what she was doing to the sub. Even outside of sessions, she found herself having panty-dampening daydreams of submission. She didn’t want that—not at all! Or did she?

What sexually bothered her most, though, was her personal dominatrix fantasy. She wanted her own sissy. Her perfect sissy, seduced, moulded and trained in all the ways she had imagined—reduced to helplessness and obedience. And she wanted that sissy to be Bill! This desire consumed her with an unshakable guilt.

Her struggle with these feelings and emotions started affecting her more and more. She eventually sought advice from a friend of hers in the scene. He was a couple of years older than she, and while he had been a practicing domme, almost legendary, having had every bit of the regard within the scene as Tracy, he now spent most of his energies working out elaborate cuckholding scenarios and executing on his plans. He was a “Bull,” in the parlance of the scene.

He was an amazing physical specimen. His good looks, physique and massive cock (which Tracy had actually seen in person) made him almost irresistible to the poor sluts whose husbands or partners pushed the cuck fantasy on them. He and Tracy had many a drink over stories of his successes. She was impressed by him, and more impressed by his cock. She had even occasionally considered taking a ride on it herself, but something inside her told her that was a path down which she dare not venture.

The domme had made it clear to Tracy that he would be happy to fuck her anytime and anywhere.

They met for a drink at an upscale restaurant near her studio. He complimented Tracy on her return to the scene and welcomed her back.

She explained her dilemma, including her having submitted to Bill, but leaving out having conflicting feelings about being submissive. Whether she unintentionally communicated that interest, or the thought of taking her as a submissive occurred to him independently, he well understood that as a possibility—so much so that his cock swelled distractedly at the thought. Submissive to him, of course.

“A very interesting situation indeed,” he thinks.

For the moment, he attempts to set aside his conflicting interests, and genuinely tries to provide good advice. He reasons that Bill knows she’s a dominatrix, whether practicing or not. He loves her for her, so if that love is true, then, as long as she doesn’t get emotionally involved with another, and she honors that line drawn, he should probably come around to accepting her being active again. Who knows, he may even get off on the whole thing. But an admission and an apology were in order.

Tracy agreed.

He cautioned her on having slept with Candi-Floss, but also thought that the means were likely justified. She did have it coming. And Bill may even come to enjoy having the slut around. The domme made a mental note to visit that gentleman’s club.

The hardest issue to reason through was her personal fantasy, particularly as it related to Bill. If Bill had in fact moved on from that, then she needed to respect his choice. He did ask a few questions about Bill’s behavior during the session, though.

“I dunno, Tracy. Very few men who are sexually drawn to the sissy thing can ever truly give it up. Much like you couldn’t give up being a dominatrix. It drew you back. And from what you told me, I would wager that his inner sissy is very much alive and well. So I think you have to be patient. Watch for signs. And if you see him needing to go in that direction again, you reassess. But until then, you shouldn’t try to take him there.”

Tracy thinks this is good advice, and they continue to talk about other things, catching up. When they part, she thanks him by picking up the tab.

As for her friend, he leaves the meeting quite aroused, thinking that, if he plays his cards right, there may be a real treat for him in all this. He makes his way directly to the closest sissy cuck’s house to blow off some steam and to ram his cock into the cuck’s wife.

Part 17

During this period, Bill found himself struggling as well—with his sissy demons. He had loved every minute of his and Tracy’s session. She was the perfect dominant. His dream dominant. But he loved her. Loved everything about her. Loved being her lover.

He started giving into it slowly. First. He bought a few pairs of panties on the Internet. Then a couple of bras. A lot of new sissy fiction had been added since he had last delved into this—he read as much as he could find, and revisited old favorites. And he found himself shopping for, but not yet buying, outfits, shoes and makeup that he might want to try. While he occasionally weakened and gave in, he was proud of how well he had been able to resist temptation. But as Tracy’s domme friend had concluded, but not fully let on, the urges were still there. And Tracy’s friend also knew that the urges would only get stronger and stronger, particularly once Tracy confessed to having become active again.

Bill was terrified of weakening and giving into it completely, even with her. Tracy had made it clear that there were certain requisites for a sissy under her control. No body hair would be permitted, feminine dress, makeup and perfume would be obligatory, and chastity would be enforced, and there would likely be other intrusions upon his person. And unlike in his pre-Tracy experience, all of it would be real. And there might be no going back.

Other forces were at work as well.

As was his thing, Tracy’s domme friend had developed a strategy for enslaving Tracy and cuckholding Bill, and started laying the foundation, or setting the trap, he would use once Bill found himself enveloped in Tracy’s femme fantasy. When that might happen would be dependent on an unsuspecting Bill, and it may not happen at all. Still, for the domme, it was a fun and thrilling exercise. And he was more than cautiously optimistic.

His first step was to make Tracy more sexually interested in him —using all his charms, and even his cock. He stopped by the gentlemen’s club to check out her “Candi-Floss.” “Nice work, Tracy, “ he thought, after meeting her. After a few minutes with her in the men’s room, he thought “Damn nice work, Tracy.” In the process, he learned from the girl the exact location of the studio and when the girls would next be there.

So, a few days later, he dropped by the studio while they were getting ready for a session. Tracy looked magnificent, and “Pusscakes,” in her assistant’s dress, looked delightful as well.

Tracy welcomed him in. They exchanged polite kisses on the cheek.

“Hope you don’t mind me dropping by unannounced, but I went by the Club the other day and your slut (casting a glance at Candi-Floss) said you might be here this afternoon. I wanted to check it out.”

“Not at all. Glad you came by. Care for a tour? We have about a 45 minutes before our ‘company’ arrives.”

“Absolutely.”

They talk as they walk.

“So Tracy, have there been any developments? Have you told him yet?”

“No, not yet. We’re meeting in Austin for a music festival in two weeks. I’m planning on telling him then.”

This is good news to the domme, he feels his cock starting to get hard.

“Good luck on that. Just let me know if you want to talk about it more. Love the place, by the way. And awesome job with the girl! While I was visiting her at the club she, well, you know, was quite gracious.”

“So I’ve heard.” (Chuckling.) “Gracious to everyone with a dick, it would appear.”

“Again, well done. Say, as long as I’m here (looking over to Candi-Floss) would you mind if she … ?”

“No. Not at all. By all means.”

“Come here Pusscakes. The nice man has something for you!”

“Mistress. Yes Mistress.”

“Tracy, I think you should watch this. She’s really good!”

“If you insist.”

Candi-Floss, knowing what’s expected of her, kneels and unzips his fly, withdrawing his large cock.

The domme wants Tracy to see his cock—basically “baiting” her with it. It has the intended effect.

Tracy watches Pusscake’s submissive act, and finds herself starting to lubricate. “What a nice cock,” she thinks. She imagines being on her knees with thing in her mouth.

The guy watches Tracy’s reaction, and he pulls his cock out of the girl’s mouth just as he climaxes—squirting gobs of cum all over the girls face.

Tracy stifles an aroused gasp. The domme smiles to himself. This was not lost on Tracy. Not in the least.

Part 18

The two weeks passed quickly. Bill and Tracy planned their flights so that they could meet at the Austin–Bergstrom airport and ride together to the hotel. They were naked in bed very soon after checking in.

It had been several weeks since they had been together–longer than the usual separation. And they were glad to be back in each other’s arms. Very very glad.

Tracy had decided to wait until the morning to share her secret.

They decided to find something to eat at the festival. The weather was perfect, and the several bands they saw were great. Post-concerts they found themselves at Antoine’s two-stepping until the early hours of the morning.

They collapsed into to the bed as soon as they got back to the room.

Tracy awakened with Bill’s arm around her and something hard sticking her in the lower back. After wake-up sex and over a pot of room service coffee, it was time for their talk.

“Bill, honey, I need to tell you something. Something I’ve been meaning to to tell you for a while, but just didn’t know how. And I need to apologize too.””

This gets Bill’s attention. He sits up in bed.

She takes his hand.

“You remember your birthday weekend, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah. How could I forget? It was wonderful.”

“You remember that I played Mistress to you after I caught you dressed up in those clothes, right?”

Bill is unsure where this is going.

“Yes. I remember that too.”

“And you remember that I had given up being a dominatrix quite a while back?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I kinda sorta fell off the wagon.”

“Fell off the wagon?”

“Yes. I’m doing the domme thing again. Please don’t be mad. And I’m so sorry. That time with you just brought to the surface something that I had tried to bury. And I couldn’t keep it buried. I hope that somehow you can forgive me.”

Bill smiles.

“Is that all?”

“There’s a little more to it, maybe a lot even, but that’s basically it.”

Bill is relieved.

“Thank god it’s only that. There for a minute I thought you were breaking up with me.”

“Breaking up with you? Never! I love you and want to be with you always. But wait, you’re not mad?”

“No. I’m not mad. But you do need to come clean on it all. I need to know everything my ‘bad girl’ girlfriend has been up to.”

“Why aren’t you mad?”

“Early on in our relationship I thought through the ‘what ifs,’ your history and mine. Given how I feel about you, I got comfortable with the possibility that you might relapse. I, of all people, know the strength of the pull that stuff can exert. Just tell me one thing, is there someone else?”

“No. Absolutely not. There’s just such an erotic thrill that goes with it. I’m addicted to the thrill, that’s all.”

“Good. I get it. Now I want to hear everything.”

Part 19

Tracy shared everything—even with respect to the girlfriend, but not about her personal fantasies. She shared how the girlfriend was the one who collared her, put on the nipple clamps and weights and gagged her, as well as the girlfriend’s later betrayal and submission. Bill was most interested in the submission part.

“She’s, like, your slave girl?”

“And a complete slut.”

“Wow. That I gotta see!”

Tracy notices his dick getting hard, but opts not to make an issue of it. He’s been so sweet.

Disaster avoided!

Tracy and Bill shower, dress and head out for the day.

They fly out Sunday to their respective places.

Later in the week, after work, Tracy is at the studio and her domme friend drops by.

“Hope you don’t mind, but I was in the neighborhood.”

This was a total lie. She is suspicious.

“No problem. Just getting ready and cleaning up for something tomorrow.”

“You know, someone like you really should have a maid to do these things.”

“I know. Candi-Floss is a great help with the sessions, but her poor mind is so sex-addled that she isn’t much good at cleaning, and I end up doing most of it myself.”

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

(Sheepishly.). “Is, er, Candi-Floss here?”

“What? Yes, she’s in the back. Why do you …?”

“You fucking turd!” (Laughing.) “ Go on back. You’re such a guy!.”

“What can I say? I am what I am. I’ll be right back.”

“You want to watch again?”

“Well, maybe one more time. And don’t get it in her hair. She just got it done and is working tonight.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

The scene from earlier is largely repeated. Tracy is transfixed by his cock. Her arousal is less than subtle—her friend can tell.

“This is going perfectly,” he thinks.

On his way out he casually asks how it went with Bill.

“Amazingly well, in fact. He had actually already imagined that it might happen and basically laughed at me. He did show an interest in Candi-Floss, though. I think I might let him watch her do her thing sometime. But no blow jobs from her for him. His cock is only for me”

“God. You’re both sluts!”

“You’re one to talk!”

“I guess. Thank Candi-Floss for me!”

“Get out of here! Bye.”

“I’ll be back!”

“Shoo shoo!”

“Oh, I almost forgot. A while back you expressed an interest in learning Gorean training and Shibari. You still interested?”

“I might be. But there is no way in hell I’m letting you tie me up.”

“No worries there. We can tie the slut up. But would love to teach both to you.”

“I’ll think about it. Now go!”

He smiles as he leaves.

Part 20

A day or so later Tracy is at her “real” office and starts thinking about the domme’s offer. She viewed both the Gorean training and the Shibari as being things that were primarily visited upon female subs, but thought it would be good to branch out and continue to develop her skills. She was certain that at least some of the knowledge would be useful for male or sissy training as well, and she did have several submissive females among her regulars. So she texted the domme. and they agreed to weekly training classes. Candi-Floss might not like it, but that was too bad for her. The domme gave Tracy a couple of how to Shibari instructional books to study, and suggested that Tracy might want to reacquaint herself with the books of Gor as well.

At the appointed day and time, they, Tracy, the domme and Candi-Floss, met at her studio for the first class. Candi-Floss, the ever-obedient subject, was made to strip, and the domme methodically wrapped and knotted her with a perfect “shrimp” tie.

He explains—

“The tying is just part of the fun. Watching them after they are tied is even better. Some of the ties are pretty easy for the bound person at first, but get progressively difficult as time passes. You’ll see.”

While Candi-Floss is uncomfortably wondering how she got herself into this, he starts talking to Tracy about the Gorean part. He explains that the “kajira” positions, for female slaves, are ritualistic, and an aspect of a mental slavery. They will eventually affect the slave psychologically, making her feel both sexually desirable and vulnerable at the same time. There are many named positions, and for many of them the slave is required to submissively assume and maintain the positions upon hand gestures or command. The best way to learn the positions is to actually practice them as they are taught.

“We’ll go over a few of the basic ones tonight. Is that okay?

That’s fine with Tracy. She is wearing her black yoga pants and top—she makes it clear that she will be staying dressed. He’s fine with that.

The domme is wearing workout clothes—shorts and a tee shirt. He picked the shorts intentionally because of how they fit in the front. They emphasize his cock and balls, making them hard not to notice—particularly for a kneeling person whose head is at crotch level. The prominence in his shorts of his cock and balls doesn’t register with Tracy. At least not at first.

He strarts with a frw basic positions—Nadu, Tower Slave, Leisha. and Obeisance—all performed and practiced at his feet. It doesn’t take long for Tracy to become acutely aware of a shifting of power away from her and to him. She tries to mentally resist at first, but while she is holding the Nadu position he moves to adjust her position slightly—as he does this his crotch comes within inches of her face. And he is noticeably aroused. She wonders if she should be able to smell it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she thinks! She cannot move—captured by both her mind and the position. By the time he introduces hand gestures to go with the positions she is fully aroused, aching between her legs, and fully obedient. She wants to stop obeying, but cannot.

He had been half worried that Tracy would see through this part of his little plan, or would be suspicious of it, and would pass on his “training” offer. But he had presented it almost casually and she had innocently accepted and gone along with it. And now, for her, it was too late. He has her.

Part 13

“Billie, dear. You know there is only one place this can go, at least for today. Now put your hands behind your back.”

Bill hesitates, still wanting to hide and trying to figure a way to escape this.

“I mean now—do it! And I’m not going to tell you again.”

He reluctantly complies.

“But Tracy … .”

The wrist cuffs click. She’s got him!

A thrilling wave of arousal rises up within her. What a rush! “God, I’ve missed this!” she thinks.

To say that this makes Bill feel uneasy is an understatement. Tracy decides to play the part. It may help him think twice before dressing up like a girl again. Though, she does admit that he looks, in that outfit, quite the part. Perfect, in fact. His ass looks delectable in those panties.

This will be fun!

“Um, Tracy, we need to talk, this is some kind of misunderstanding!”

Almost instinctively, she takes control—

“No, Billie, I don’t think we do. Everything is quite clear. And I do believe that you’ve forgotten your etiquette. Sissy girls only speak when spoken to. And, when you do speak, I expect to hear a ‘Mistress’ or ‘ma’am’ before and after your sentences. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am. But ….””

“I’m sorry?”

“Ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”

“Much better. Good girl. Now where were we? Oh yes.”

“I must say this is quite a familiar scene for this room. But the tables do seem to be turned, don’t they?”

“Yes ma’am.”

She returns an expectant piercing stare, raising one eyebrow. He corrects himself—

“I mean, ‘Ma’am. Yes, ma’am’.”

Looking, very intensely, into his eyes and touching his cheek—”I will let that go for now. But know that you will soon learn to show proper respect (looking around the room). I dare say we have many ‘training aids’ at our disposal here.”

Bill swallows hard. Dread sets in.

Tracy steps back to survey the scene.

“Let’s see, what’s missing?”

“Of course, cuffs and collar, and the binding chains.”

It takes all of 30 seconds for Bill to be collared, leg cuffed and chained to the floor as she had been just three mornings before. “Mercilessly quick indeed,” she thinks as she smiles to herself.

Bill is now seriously wondering what he has gotten himself into. But how does he really feel about this? His dick betrays him.

Tracy spies his erection and takes hold of it through the panties. She squeezes it less than gently.

“We do need to do something about your nasty little thing here.” But what? Her male chastity toys were still packed away.. She looks around—and picking up a leather lace—“This will do just fine.”

She pulls his panties down, and binds him tightly down below—separating his balls and crisscrossing his penis, and ties it all up with a neat bow. She pulls the panties back up.

“There. That will do!”

“Most sissies don’t mind this at first, but as time passes the constriction does tend to get painfully difficult. But it’s not like you have a choice in the matter.”

She continues about her work.

“I do remember that you were particularly interested in nipples, weights and clamps, weren’t you? Well, isn’t that a coincidence? So am I!”

“Tracy, no, please?”

She starts to slap his face, but her hand stops just short.

“I’m sorry, young lady, you must not have understood—or you have already forgotten your manners. Either way, we don’t speak to our Mistress like that..”

She looks through her gear.

“I do believe that a gag might just help with your memory.” (Picking up a leather tongue-gag harness.)

“Tracy, no ….”

But it’s too late.

This is her favorite gag. One of her ‘special’ toys. The gag part actually inserts into the mouth more deeply than most, and holds the back of the tongue down very effectively. If a sub fights the gag too much it causes the sub to retch. The subs learn not to fight it very quickly. Such a simple yet devious little thing! She is so glad that “friend” of hers didn’t pick this one to use on her!

Bill is not so lucky.

She tightens the straps. Bill tries to move his tongue, but cannot. He feels like his mouth is being violated—he wants out! But his cock throbs.

“Now there, where was I before being so rudely interrupted?”

She picks up a pair of Japanese clover clamps.

“We’ll start with these.”

She lowers his dress, and places one behind each nipple.

“And I think these were the weights. Yes.” She clips one on each side, and pulls the top of the dress back up. She cups his breasts. He winces.

“That’s a good beginning.”

Bill is now more or less just as restrained as Tracy had been on Friday morning. She decides to twist the knife a little.

“Sissy Billie, should I be offended at your effort here? What kind of sissy doesn’t put on makeup when presenting herself to her mistress? Only a disrespectful one, I think. And those hairy legs and your other body hair? I mean, armpit hair, really? And those panties are soiled. I do smell perfume, though, but is it yours? What am I to think?”

“You do understand that this errant behavior will eventually, through proper training, be corrected.”

“Oh shit!” thinks Bill.

Bill, unable to speak, and completely off balance, has no choice but to nod that he understands. He worries that this may be the way it’s going to be from now on.

“I am going to change into something more ‘appropriate,’ so I am going to leave you for a bit.” She picks up the blindfold from the other day, and slides it over his eyes.

“I’ll be back.”

And smiling—

“Oh, and don’t go anywhere!”

She leaves the room.

Part 14

Bill waits for what seems like an eternity while Tracy changes, the nipple weights swaying with every movement. In the bedroom, Tracy is debating what to wear. Her rubber clothes are in storage—but for that she would know the perfect outfit. “Maybe next time, if there is a next time,” she thinks.

She throbs between the legs.

Tracy settles on full domme leather. This is in essence a free pass back to her prior life, so why not go all out? Leather over-bust corset with suspender straps. Black opaque stockings under black thigh-high lace-up high-heeled boots. Black elbow-length kidskin gloves, and her favorite black leather policeman’s cap. And she knows exactly what makeup to wear—complete with blood red lipstick. She pulls her hair back in a severe bun.

She struggles over the choice of a panty. Should she deny him the view of her ass and sex, or go without? Since they’re lovers, going without might be appropriate. But today, she is a dominatrix, and he is a submissive, and a sissy submissive at that, so her sex should be covered. She decides on a black thong. It can always be pulled down, if needed, and she’ll still be able to use her ass to tempt him. A very good choice.

Bill waits in silence and takes stock of the situation. Tracy is a real dominatrix, not a pretend one. She is doing this by her own volition, not just to play out a perverse fantasy he imagined and forced upon her. She will be good at this. Very good. She will be playing her game, not his. And he is bound and helpless.

The quiet is broken by the clicking of heels on the parquet floor of the hallway. Bill shivers at the sound. The clicking turns to quiet as she reaches the carpeted floor of the playroom. She selects her favorite crop, nicely whippy, from among the gear.

“Still here, I see.””

She takes off Bill’s blindfold.

She looks amazing! The epitome of sex—a dark forbidden type of sex. As his member reacts he starts to feel the longer-term effects of the lace by which it is bound. Only mildly painful now, but the frustrated arousal is increasing in intensity.

She circles him, holding the crop rather menacingly, occasionally striking out at an unprotected piece of flesh.

“Shall we begin?”

Tracy is of two minds here. She would very much like to flex her sexual muscle and make Bill know exactly how powerful she is, as she would have with any sub. This isn’t just any sub, though. It’s Bill. Her Bill. So this is new territory.

She thinks back to her prior experiences. Bill is only at the beginning of the enticement. Not fully immersed by any measure. The makeup is missing. And all that body hair? Nice on a guy, but unacceptable for a sissy. And chastity? Not even close to being managed. Those would be the next steps, but they wouldn’t happen today. Then, there’s her personal fantasy. After the male is fully immersed in the enticement, then, in her fantasy, the enslavement, to her and to femininity, and all that goes with it, would follow. He would be helpless to resist.

But this is Bill, and probably a one-time thing. So, for today, maybe just enough to make him respect and, maybe a little, fear, her power. At the same time she could have a little fun. After all, he did practically serve himself up to her on a platter.

Most importantly, it must come across as real.

Tracy takes Bill through his paces. She tries a few things she had thought about but never tried before, but always wanted to, and likes their effects. And she uses every opportunity to verbally shape their interactions—mind fucking him. Ninety percent of the domination is mental—much more effective than the pain and restraint. But, for the most part, she holds back.

Tracy laughed to herself at having caught him like this—a classic scene right out of transgender fiction, except even better. She probably should have expected that the uniform would be irresistible to him, and his putting it on maybe should have been expected. But she doesn’t let on.

Her favorite part of their “session” was toward the end when she decided to let him experience a proper hogtie. His effort in this regard, his method, which had been visited upon her, actually had some merit to it. He had worked that out all by himself. My, he has a perverted little mind! But she was going to do it better. Much better! She placed his arms in a leather monoglove—held on by straps across his shoulders, and bound him at the ankles. The monoglove was loosely tied, at first.

She made him lie on his stomach, which focused all of his weight on his tied up cock and balls—-the discomfort there having gone well beyond subtle. Using a leather strap, she drew his ankles to the ring at the end of the glove. And she blindfolded him.

She then sat and watched.

His cock and balls, on which most of his weight was focused, hurt desperately. He found himself trying to reposition his arms and legs—trying to ease the stiffness and discomfort, finding only minimal relief. And he felt every movement between his legs.

She picks her time.

She tightens the laces on the glove, fully immobilizing his arms. Next, she loops belts just above his elbows and knees, and cinches them tight. Finally, she tightens the belt connecting the glove to his ankles, taking out all of the slack. Bill’s weight is even more focused on his bound genitals.

She sits again.

She knows that the hogtie will soon begin getting quite severe, so she starts with the final act—

“If you could tell me, and I know you would, if you could, what kind of sissy sticks her fingers up her mistress’s ass without permission? I will tell you—a very very naughty sissy. And who penetrated my ass with her fingers the other day, without permission? I will tell you. You did. So what does that make you? A very very naughty sissy. And what happens to very very naughty sissies? They get punished, of course.”

At this.Bill vigorously shakes his head “No,” as if this isn’t punishment enough.

“Mistress is going to be kind to her sissy, this time. Does sissy remember the ‘Golden Rule’? Well, I am going to do unto you what you did unto me! With one small difference, though. When it comes to punishing a submissive by violating their ass, I know exactly what I am doing. And you WILL know that you have been violated!”

Tracy had already decided to let Bill’s ass off easy, but she had to appear to follow through on her threat. So she stretched and penetrated with her fingers, and used only a small dildo to take his girlhood. Her objective was not to inflict pain, but shame and humiliation. And when he started meeting the thrusts of the dildo in his ass, she knew she had him. And she did. And she let him know it.

But his ass looked so delicious, she just couldn’t resist taking it just a little farther. She released his legs from their bindings, brought him to his feet and clipped a leash to his collar, and led the blindfolded Bill into another room. He quickly found himself bound face down over the back of a chair.

“Don’t move, darling!”

She returns to her gear, and selects her strap-on harness and a dildo. The dildo is her very prized dildo. Not just because of its girth and length, on the penetrating end, but because of what’s on her end. The part that’s inside of the holding ring features a short, textured and graduated plug designed to penetrate the wearer’s vagina,, together with a nubbly grope-suit like pad that encircles and envelopes the wearer’s clitoris and labia. Tracy hadn’t used it in years, but if ever there was a time to return it to service this was it. Because if it’s size, Bill might find it a little unpleasant (well, maybe a lot unpleasant), but it would be worth it!

She finds a bottle of lube, then steps into, and adjusts, the harness.

Just wearing it feels amazing.

She returns to Bill.

Bill’s ass had already been somewhat prepared, but he wasn’t ready for the slippery tip of Tracy’s cock at his partially stretched opening when she started to slide it between his cheeks.

“Umph, nggg, umph, nnnnnn … .”.

“Shush, my sweet, this is for me!”

It is painful upon penetration, and she eases it in, bit by bit. Once it is fully in, she gives him a few moments to relax. Then she starts with the movement—in and out—gently at first. Then building a rhythm. Her first orgasm comes shortly after starting, but because of the design of the implement she only goes down a little from the first peak. The stronger, second orgasm, soon follows. Again, she only goes down a little before rising to the peak of an even stronger orgasm. She loses count of how many times this pattern repeats, and eventually, as she feels Bill orgasming and spasming from the stimulation, she climaxes with the most earth-shattering and mind-blowing orgasm she has ever experienced.

Part 15

After Bill has been released, which cost him many worshipping kisses on Tracy’s boots and ass, and they have recovered from their exertions, they take a long hot shower together, followed by a nap in the bed. They tenderly hold each other until it is time for Bill to get ready to go.

Tracy is driving Bill to the airport, and on their way, they talk about when they are going to next get together and what they are going to do, all as if nothing had changed.

Bill had gotten his fill of the sissy thing, at least for now. As soon as he had climaxed, shame and guilt set in and he had been eager to take off the sissy clothes and scrub all evidence of it from his body. And other than a tenderness in his backside all evidence was gone after the shower.

Tracy welcomed the shower as well. She had never been so completely sexually satisfied in her life. But for her, the last orgasm had awakened an old appetite. She felt the first indication of this as she was driving home from the airport replaying the session, thinking how cute Bill looked in that outfit and how helpless and submissive he had been. She had to change into a dry panty before bed.

Their relationship continued, and grew stronger. Different places, some far off, and new shared experiences. But not back to her city and her apartment. They never talked about what had happened over the birthday weekend—neither had felt the need to. Bill had again sworn off the sissy thing. Tracy had sworn off being dominant to Bill. But the dominatrix in her had been awakened, and was stronger and more present than ever.

She had never fully disassociated herself from the scene, and in her city the scene, almost exclusively underground, flourished. She slowly drifted back to it—even did a session or two.

Word of her coming out of retirement quickly spread and soon she was very much in demand—doing a couple of paying sessions a week in a rented play space. She didn’t need the money, and only took it out of a belief that it in some way humiliated, and contributed towards the degradation of, her subjects. But now, it was different than before. She did to and with them what she pleased, and not what they would have asked for. If they didn’t like it, there were others who would.

Her girlfriend welcomed her return, and together they bounced thoughts about their craft off each other. Tracy hadn’t forgotten or forgiven her for the “finishing touches” she had made when the girl was helping her prepare for Bill’s birthday, but had decided to let it go. At least until … .

Through someone else in the scene Tracy found out that her girlfriend had been bragging to others about what she had done to the always dominant Tracy, and that Tracy had bottomed to Bill. Tracy found this to be a betrayal of their friendship, a violation of some unwritten code, and intolerably disrespectful. Something had to be done.

Tracy decided that she would seduce the girl into a very public, at least within the scene, and humiliating, submission. The girl would learn respect. And the girl would become Tracy’s very personal submissive.

Tracy’s first move was to come on to the girl, to get her into bed, with Tracy the aggressor. After they had slept together several times, Tracy offered to do a session with the girl, with Tracy the dominant. The girl accepted. The girl offered to reciprocate, but Tracy firmly refused. And a second session followed, with Tracy clearly taking the upper hand. And so it went.

It didn’t take Tracy long to fully bring her once domme girlfriend to heel. The girl was easy. Tracy knew she could have her that day when they were unpacking toys in the playroom. The look in her eyes said it all.

“Candi-Floss,” as Tracy had nicknamed her, was now the epitome of the character from the old Albion comics. Extremely big breasted, courtesy of enhancement surgery “suggested” by Tracy, she was required to dress at all times in Tracy’s presence, unless Tracy otherwise directed, in a short white full-collared dress and matching panties, with a light blue or pink bow tie, sash and stockings. And always a wide-brimmed hat, with a matching ribbon, and high heels. For fun, and to further repay the girl for her betrayal, Tracy had a tramp stamp that read “Pusscakes” tattooed in script across the small of the girl’s back.

The girl was of course pierced in Tracy’s preferred fashion. Ears, tongue (Tracy’s favorite tongue ball), septum, nipples, and belly button. The girl’s labia and clitoris had also been pierced to support a permanent chastity shield. Only her ass could be penetrated, but Tracy made it more than clear that the girl’s ass could only be used by Tracy or with Tracy’s permission.

But when it came to the girl, that was not what Tracy was most proud of. From Tracy’s careful and methodical training, prolonged sexual denial and a not insignificant amount of hypnosis therapy, the girl had been turned into a ravenous slut. So much so that Tracy had to find her employment at a nearby gentlemen’s club, as an outlet, at which she administered, between dances, countless handjobs and blowjobs to the very appreciative clientele.

And she was always eager to pleasure Tracy.

The girl, when she wasn’t working at the club, now assisted Tracy when Tracy did sessions—the sessions now being held at the girl’s former play space—now Tracy’s “studio.” For the sessions, Tracy made the girl trade her white dress and panties for black, her stockings and shoes were black, and the ribbons and accents were all red. They looked quite the pair.

Bill was unaware of any of this.