Dark Towers By Deborah Ford Chapter 8

This entry is part 2 of 2 in the series Dark Towers by Deborah Ford

 

 

Chapter 8

 

 

After his traumatic ordeal of watching his wife, Ella, performing so sluttily on the end of Caleb’s cock, Belle finds himself shaking. Suddenly, the strong arm of Caleb winds around his bare shoulders.

The Bull has pulled on a short white bathrobe that enhances his masculine form, making Caleb feel even more petite and feminine.

At first, his shock makes him wiggle, trying to escape the hunky male’s grip, but he soon realises that Caleb is staggeringly strong. The Bull’s arm muscles feel like cement against his soft flesh.

Breathing deeply, he finds himself looking up through his made-up eyes at the man who is stealing his wife.

From nowhere, he feels his bottom being fiercely patted by the free hand of a smiling Caleb.

“Heh. Bet that wasn’t how you’d thought it would be, eh?”

“Er, no, Master,” he finds his voice shaking as he replies.

“So, the first thing you have to deal with is that my slut will never want sex with you again.” He pauses and winks at the exhausted, but happy, Ella, who has wound the blanket around her bare shoulders. “At least not how you once did it!” Then he laughs. “Your dick is way too small for her now.”

Swallowing Belle resists the temptation to protest. It can’t be that small … surely?

“So what I’m gonna do, as a sort of reward for your painful discovery, is let your Mistress dress you for bed. How does that sound?”

Belle doesn’t know how that sounds, as he normally goes to bed naked, but his quivering voice is saying, “Thank you, Master. Yes, Master.”

“That’s sorted!” Caleb announces, before turning to Elle, “Hey bitch put on something and go and get her bedtime outfit ready. I’ll send her along after I’ve had a few words with her.”

Bedtime outfit? Why did those words both alarm and excite him?

Pulling on a flimsy, short, pale blue nightdress, Ella drags her exhausted body off the bed and gives her husband a quick kiss on his cheek.

She giggles, “You look so cute in that bunny uniform. I mean, oh God, those ears and everything!”

She leaves while laughing.

Feeling irritated and humiliated at the way his wife laughed at him, Belle pouts.

Suddenly, two hands grip his hips and drag him back on his heels towards the bed.

He squeals in surprise as he is hoisted onto Caleb’s lap, as the brawny male settles on the bed.

It is an intensely helpless feeling to be sitting on a man’s lap in a bunny girl’s outfit, where his heels can’t reach the floor, and his bunny tail is between the legs of the man.

He can’t bring himself to look up at his tormentor, so he glances down at his legs in their sheer black tights. They look so sexy.

He groans, desperate to be released from the chastity cage and to cum.

“Now, listen, sissy,” Caleb starts, his voice heavy with the weight of a man about to say words of importance.

Belle feels his heart race. He just needs to get out of there.

“Now, tomorrow sissy, you start your lessons. I know from previous sissies that the first day is the worst. You will feel like bitching and behaving like a brat. Now I’m here to explain to you that I need you to behave. Not to show me up.”

Feeling his blonde curls tickle his face, Belle looks up at the arrogant man, feeling the steel collar on his neck. “Lessons?”

Caleb closes his eyes and shakes his head, “You see, bunny girl. That is the sort of interruption we don’t like from you sissies. You clean floors, serve drinks, iron stuff, and I don’t know what. You do not,” he stares so hard a frightened Belle holds his breath, “on any occasion interrupt anyone who is speaking to you. Got that.”

Should he speak?

There is a long, threatening silence, so Belle whispers, “Yes, Master. But I don’t understand. Lessons?”

“You need to earn your pink ears …”

“Pink ears?”

“Okay. I was going to cane you six times before bed. Now it’ll be twelve!”

“But, Master, I was only asking …”

“If you keep that sexy mouth of yours shut for two minutes, I can explain!”

This time, Belle merely nods his head, again feeling his terrifying steel collar on the underside of his chin.

“You noobs get white ears. Once you become a real sissy bunny, you get white ears with pink inside them, like the sissies you saw downstairs.”

“Oh!”

Obviously, this was ridiculous. They said they’d stay the weekend at the club, so he’ll be long gone before passing tests to get pink ears! Though a part of him already wondered what the tests were, and whether he could pass them. In fact, his dick expanded as far as the chastity cage would allow.

“I have never had any of my sissies not pass!” Caleb uses a thick finger to raise Belle’s chin, “And you are definitely not going to break my run.”

Why did he find the intimidation from his Master so hot? It made him tingle. He wanted to smile, despite his predicament.

“May I ask what the lessons are about, Master?”

Caleb chuckles. “You’ll find out soon enough. I’ll go through them with your Mistress so she knows what’s expected of you. She’ll need to pick out a maid’s uniform for you for …”

“A maid’s uniform!” Belle twists around smartly on his Master’s legs.

Caleb shakes his head. “And what have you been told, sissy?”

Closing his eyes, Belle says, “Sorry, Master. It’s just a shock. No one’s mentioned a ….”

“Look, you dumb bitch, if you don’t wise up, your arse will be too sore to sit on for a week!”

“Sorry, Master.”

Caleb ruffles the downcast sissy’s hair. “Hey, don’t worry about that. God made sissies dumb, and he made real men strong enough to help you sissies get by.”

Belle giggles, “Yes, Master.”

“So, I’ll just add another six stripes from the cane. Eighteen in total, girl. You got anything to say?”

Sucking in a deep lung full of air, Belle is about to shriek that ‘it isn’t fair’ but sees Caleb staring hard at him with eyebrows raised.

He shakes his head, “No, Master.”

Putting the bunny sissy back on his heels, Caleb rises. “I think your education has begun!”

Belle is led from the master bedroom, across the sitting room, through the kitchen, to a door that is slightly ajar.

Beyond that is a small bedroom, where he can see his wife, Ella, fussing over some gorgeous-looking garments on the bed.

It is large enough for a bed, a line of wardrobes to the left, two chairs and, opposite, next to the bed, an entrance into an ensuite.

Three points strike Belle so hard that his jaw falls open. First, there are no windows in this small room. The second is that it feels like a prison cell. Finally, and most overwhelmingly, it is fluffy pink.

The pink colour is straight from a child’s sweets or dresses. A babyish bubble gum pink with varying shades. Part of the wardrobes and some of the sheets are white.

It is then that he notices a closed door along the wall opposite the line of cupboards. That must lead into the corridor, he muses.

Above the bed is a picture of two bunny girls. One cute and smiling, and the other pouting and cross.

Across the pillows of the bed are an array of cuddly animals, including a smiling pink teddy bear.

On the bed, Ella has laid out a multitude of delicate nightwear for girls. Judging by their appearance, they are ideal for teenage girls. Short nighties, thin pyjamas, decorated in various fashions, with brightly coloured shapes or cute little animals. There are chemises, and even a few onesies, such as a cute, ribboned teddy bear, and another of a pink kitten.

Wow. Just amazing. If he were at home, Belle would wear any one of them and spend the entire night wanking.

Ella holds up a camisole and shorts set, in delightful chocolate and cream.

Belle feels lightheaded with lusty need. He has got to put it on and feels its cool sensuality.

Screwing up her face with uncertainty, his wife says, “What do you think?”

Belle starts to say, “I love it …”

But Caleb interrupts, “Yeah. Sure. Whatever you think is best for our sissy.”

Suddenly, Belle realises that not only was the question not addressed to him, but that he is like a child in the room, where adults make decisions about him without him having a say.

Caleb grabs Belle’s wife and gives her a tremendously hot kiss. He watches with despair as his wife submits deeply to the kiss.

Belle is beside himself with angry jealousy.

How dare she react like that to the attentions of another man?

His wife’s leg rubs hard up against Caleb’s thigh in a wanton display of sexual need that Belle doesn’t recognise in his wife.

Caleb breaks off from the kiss and snaps his fingers at Belle.

“Listen, sissy. Your maid’s dresses are in the cupboard on the far right. All the clothes you need are in various cupboards and drawers. Make sure you know where they are.”

So many commands! Is he allowed to ask anything?

In the comfort of her lover’s arms, Ella says, “Honey, this is to die for. You know how you’ve always lusted after clothing like this. Now, you must remove all your make-up before bed. Miss Maya will wake you in the morning and show you how to use the shower. There is a nozzle that directs water around your little chastity cage to clean your little willy.” She giggles. “Apparently, you don’t ever have to remove the cage again. Isn’t this place amazing? They have thought of everything.”

Belle nods blankly, feeling that is what is expected of him.

“So come on,” Ella says, as if excited for him. “I know you want to get your night gear on and pose in front of the mirrors!”

He accepts the hanger holding the delightful chemise set.

“Erm, Mistress …”

He trails off, one eye on his Master, who appears to be a giant in this tiny, pink room.

His wife’s eyes are wide open and eager to help. “Yes, Belle?”

“Well, he finds himself dropping one knee before the other. “Well, I don’t understand …”

Breaking out of the arms of her lover, Ella steps towards her cute, lost-looking sissy and embraces him with a kiss to the cheek.

“Of course you don’t. That’s the idea. Sir says it is important you don’t know what’s happening. That’s part of your training. You become dependent upon others for everything. Now don’t you worry your little head. This is everything you’ve ever fantasised about. You will be completely helpless from now on. Wholly dependent upon us and the Mistresses who work here.”

Jesus! He doesn’t want his wife talking about his secret fantasies in front of the Bully sneering behind her.

“But, well, Mistress,” he keeps an eye on her Bull to check for any signs that he is being naughty, “this is all very good. But isn’t it too elaborate? We will be leaving here on Monday and then …”

Elle giggles and kisses his nose. “Oh, you look so hot when you’re confused.” She smiles, “Now you mustn’t worry about anything. Okay? Just behave.”

He is about to interject when Ella indicates the door opposite the cupboards.

“Now, Miss Maya will come in through that door tomorrow morning, so she doesn’t disturb your Master and me by waking us up. We might be busy or want a lie-in. Your alarm will go off at seven.”  

Ella helps her shocked husband remove his bunny outfit, stripping him down to his elaborate steel chastity cage and collar with the screen displaying his new name.

She adds, “You must be ready to leave with her at seven thirty. They will feed you before your lessons begin.”

When he pulls on the silky, cool shorts and top, he feels his entire body shake with sexual need.

His eyes half close in deep, drowsy erotic joy.

The drowning in unmitigated pleasure comes to a brutal end.

Caleb barks, “Sissy, bend over the bed and get your fat arse high in the air. Now! We need to sort you out before you go to bed!”

There is an aggressive quality to the word ‘now’ that makes Belle jump into the required position.

Ella giggles. “Oh, Sir you are so forceful!”

She melts up to her lover, kissing him and sucking at his flesh, keeping an eye on her surprisingly sexy hubbie in his delicate nightwear.

Caleb puts his arm around her to lead her to a narrow, tall cupboard a few doors down from the maid’s dresses. He opens it to reveal all sorts of BDSM gear: canes, rods, paddles, bondage gear, and even blindfolds.

He says, “As you’ll be taught, paddles are for light punishment or a bit of fun. The canes and straps are more serious. Like when your sissy has let you down. They’ll go through that in your lessons.”

Her lessons? Belle wonders what his wife’s lessons would be about. Using a cane? Surely not. Ella has never enjoyed inflicting pain or playing BDSM games.

The canning is horrible.

Poor Belle tries not to shout out. But of course, Caleb, as you might expect, is an expert with the corporal punishment of sissies.

Then he tries not to beg for mercy in front of his wife.

Sadly, that falls apart after the first six.

He is admonished for leaping up onto his bare feet for the tenth, and hurriedly returned to his position of being bent over with arse high in the air.

Finally, he holds out on a single remaining ambition. He will not cry in front of his wife.

He would not. He dares not before his loving wife. He can handle this.

Yet he weeps like a child on the fourteenth slap to his bruised backside. And once the waterworks start, he can’t stop them.

Through his sniffles, he hears them leave the room and crossly stands up, rubbing his aching backside through the lovely silky material of his shorts.

It is then that he notices it.

There is no handle on his side of the door. No handle!

Panic!

Nor is there one on the inside of the door through which Miss Myra would be coming tomorrow morning.

Horror pours through him. He finds himself banging the door into the kitchen.

As soon as his wife opens it, her eyes full of empathetic worry for her Hubbie, he calms.

He sniffs up the remaining tears to say, “Mistress. There is no handle on the door.”

Looking confused, she says, “Of course not.”

“But … but … what if I need to get out of here?”

Her puzzlement increases, “Why would you need to leave your room, Belle? You have all you need in there.”

“But, Mistress, I, I …”

Caleb pushes the door wide open. He is grumpy as hell.

“Listen, if we need you to come out and serve us for anything, then I can open the door remotely on my phone.”

Ella puts her palm to the hot, still damp from tears, cheek of her husband. “Aw. You were thinking of us.” She looks up at her Bull. “Isn’t that sweet, Sir?”

Caleb is unimpressed.

“So she should. That’s her only job.”

Suddenly, words come from nowhere. “Erm, Master, please may I have the chastity cage removed. I am so horny. I promise to be good.”

Caleb shows an evil, toothy grin. And closes the door.

As Belle hears the locks clunk closed, he feels entrapment crush his soul. He turns off the lights, climbs into his girly bed and pulls down the large pink teddy bear to cuddle for comfort.

His arse is on fire, his poor dick is locked away, and he feels entombed in a world that excites and terrifies him in equal measure.

The haunting thought of Caleb shagging his wife into oblivion fills his senses. It is so unfair!

He pouts and, with his little fists, pounds his pillow in helpless despair.

Now he is rubbing himself up against the bed. As his dick is locked between his thighs, he needs to push his groin forward to get any friction.

The spanked arse, the smoothness of his body, his amazing hairstyle, the humiliation … he pounds the bed uselessly. Yet there is a deep pleasure in the frustration, and he falls asleep a hundred per cent aroused, his dick spurting useless cum into his delicate shorts.

 

 

Just a word about my Reddit Site

About five days ago, I logged onto Reddit and was warned of suspicious activity. I was instructed to change my password. I did this. Yet for reasons I do not know, Reddit deleted ALL, yes ALL, my posts. Every post and every comment!

The following day, they deleted my entire SubReddit HotelTransform. This subreddit was hugely popular. It had something like 3.5K members!

I have tried to get in touch with a human being at Reddit to correct this, but it would be easier to get an audience with the Pope! 

I will keep you all informed.

I have more stories to share and may return to this WordPress site. Though I may create a fresh Reddit site and risk the wrath of mindless algorithms again.

Thank you all for your patience and support.

 

 

 

 

 

Jim and Sarah parts 6 to 8 by Chloe

 

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 … .”

 

Jim and Sarah by Chloe Parts 5 and 6

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.”

Jim and Sarah by Chloe

Part 1
 
Tonight was the night. The night of his “coming out,” she thought. But he had no idea. She had been looking forward to this day for quite some time, and the closer to the day the more difficulty she had sorting her thoughts, and the harder it had become to ignore the incessant needful ache down below. 
 
Her makeup, clothes, jewelry and perfume were perfect. All chosen just for this night. Her dark hair was pulled back, almost severely, but the severity was more than tempered by her delicately feminine features. Her lips and nails were her favorite Chanel red. Her dress was a sleeveless form-fitting mid-thigh-length black silk. Her open-toed heels were strappy, her feet perfectly pedicured, and under her dress a black satin bullet bodysuit and black sheer stay up stockings from Fleur du Mal. Purely predatory, she thought. 
 
They had decided, rather, she had guided them, to have a pre-dinner cocktail at the bar of a new boutique hotel that had recently opened. She was consumed with an  excited arousal as they were seated, but didn’t let on. 
 
She took his hand and spoke as they sat—
 
“You do know that I love you—more than anything?”
 
“Yes, of course, and I love you too.”
 
“Very well then. Here goes.””
 
“I know your secret.”
 
“What? What secret?”
 
She hands him a small flat pink  box. He looks at her uncomprehendingly. Her eyes bear into his. 
 
“Open it..”
 
He opens the box to find slightly perfumed folded white  tissue paper. He pulls back the tissue. 
 
He blushes furiously. 
 
“Panties?”
 
“Yes. Panties. And a lovely shade of pink, don’t you think?”
 
“Yes, but … .”
 
She cuts him off. 
 
“Put them on!”
 
“Put them on? Here? Now?”
 
“Yes, sweetheart. Now. We passed the men’s room on the way in. Excuse yourself. And do not bring back the  underwear you’re wearing when you return.”
 
He hesitates, wondering if she is serious. Her eyes tell him that she is. Unmistakably serious. 
 
“Go! Now! I’m not asking you, I am telling you. And don’t make me say it again.”
 
He rises, and finds his way to the bathroom. Once in the stall, he awkwardly takes off his shoes, pulls down his pants and boxer shorts, slides the panties up his legs, and puts his pants and shoes back on. He then throws away his boxer shorts and returns—noticeably flustered and blushing furiously. 
 
“Happy now?”
 
“Yes, thank you. And our waitress giggled at your erection while you were returning to the table.”
 
He flushes an even deeper pink.
 
He had yielded, submitted, just as it had been written.
 
“Now what are we going to do about that erection?”
 
“Uh, well, it will go down. I’m sure. Just give it a few minutes.”
 
“Okay. Let me know when it does.”
 
An awkward silence follows. 
 
“I’m waiting.”
 
“It’s almost there.”
 
More silence. 
 
“There. Done. All gone.”
 
“Good. Now what are we going to do to keep that from happening again?”
 
“I don’t know. But it probably won’t do it again. I’m pretty sure.”
 
“Well, I’m not.”
 
“But … .”
 
She takes a small box from her pocketbook. 
 
Handing it to him—
 
“Put this on—again in the bathroom, and bring me the key.”
 
He looks in the box—“But how did you … ? And why … ?”
 
“That’s not your concern. Your concern should be not pissing me off!”
 
He knows she’s serious. 
 
“Very well.”
 
He excuses himself and returns a few minutes later with the key. He hands her the key. 
 
“Thank you.”
 
“But … .”
 
“No buts. Shush.” (Holding a single finger to her lips.) “Nod if you understand.”
 
He nods. 
 
“Good boy. Or should i say ‘good girl’?”
 
It had begun. But it had taken a while to get to this point. 
 
Part 2 
 
It had started slowly and tentatively. 
 
He had been  in line to place his order  at a restaurant counter trying to figure out what he was in the mood for. The steak sandwich was always good. But he wasn’t terribly hungry and it was a lot to have for lunch. So he opted for the goat cheese and arugula salad. Good choice. He ordered and sat and waited to be served at one of the restaurant’s small tables. 
 
He was a Wednesday regular at this place. Not every Wednesday, but maybe twice a month. Their Wednesday specials were among his favorites. 
 
While he was waiting he noticed that the girl was there too. Dark haired, strikingly pretty, always by herself, always reading a book. Never in a hurry. 
 
She was there every second or third time he went. He supposed that she must be a Wednesday  specials fan too. He watches  as the  waitress delivers the same salad to her. 
 
“Pretty, and with good taste,” he thinks.
 
He returns his attention to his phone. 
 
Time passes. 
 
A couple of weeks later, at a wine tasting, he sees her again. She’s dressed  for the occasion. Very nice. 
 
He was there by himself, at the insistence of the friends, husband and wife, who were hosting the event. “You need to get out more,” they said. The  wine and food offerings were both good, and he knew many of the people there. 
 
As he was having his glass filled with an excellent red, he found himself standing next to her—the girl. He felt the need to say something—
 
“Aren’t you the girl from Ted’s?”
 
He kicks himself. Awkward start. 
 
“Ted’s? The sandwich shop? Yes. I go there from time to time. Why do you ask?”
 
“I’ve seen you there. Several times in fact. Always reading. Last time you ordered their goat cheese salad. I did too! My name is Jim.”
 
“I’m Sarah. Nice to meet you. “ 
 
He found himself flirting with her. What had come over him?
 
“The pleasure is mine, Sarah.”
 
The hostess is watching Jim and Sarah. Sarah’s body language tells the hostess that she’s interested. Jim notices that Sarah  is not wearing a ring. Maybe fair game? But he has to do better than he started off doing.
 
 “Are you from the area Sarah”
 
“No. But I’ve been here a while. You? 
 
“Came down from New York about seven years ago—never going back. You here by yourself?”
 
“Sorta. My roommate is my ‘date.’ The invitation was for a plus one, and I like the couple hosting.”
 
“I do too. They are good friends.”
 
He is rallying. 
 
Just then an equally attractive blonde comes up to them.
 
“Excuse me Sarah, I had forgotten about something I promised to do tonight for work. Hope you don’t mind, but I do need to get back to the house.”
 
“That’s fine, and I’m about ready to go too. But let me introduce you. Jim, this is Kim. My roommate. Kim, this is Jim. He and I share an appreciation for Ted’s.”
 
“Hello Kim!”
 
“Hi Jim!”
 
“I’m really sorry to be stealing Sarah from you. Maybe another time?”
 
“Yes, that would be nice. Pleasure, ladies.”
 
As they leave, he and Sarah realize that they hadn’t  gotten each other’s contact information. 
 
“Maybe a little soon, anyway,” thinks Jim. 
 
Part 3
 
The hostess had watched Jim and Sarah with great interest. Jim’s wife, her best friend from college, had passed away a few years back  after a short but painful illness, leaving Jim devastated, heartbroken and alone. He had thrown himself into his work, but otherwise had withdrawn. She worried for him. 
 
And she had a fondness for Sarah as well. But thought it a pity that Sarah hadn’t seemed to have been able to find the right guy. 
 
Seeing them together planted a seed. What if she arranged for a “blind” date, possibly to help matters along? It couldn’t hurt. 
 
As for Sarah, she didn’t fully appreciate the physical effect her interaction with Jim  had on her until she sat down in the front seat of her car—feeling swollen and more than a little wet between her legs as she did. Most unanticipated.  “This is a good job for Kim!” she thought, and smiled. Once Kim finished her work project Kim’s “real” work would begin. Sarah would be sure to lock Kim’s collar on her when they got home so Kim would know that it was going to be one of “those” nights. 
 
Kim had noticed Sarah’s reaction to Jim, and though she felt an initial pang of jealousy, she was happy for Sarah—hoping Sarah may have found the guy to compete her life. She had no fear of losing Sarah—they had been lovers for too long. But unlike her (Kim liked only girls), Sarah seemed to need something from a male that Kim knew she couldn’t provide. She had  always been submissive to Sarah, at some times more than others, and always would be.  She knew in her heart that Sarah would also always need what only a submissive female lover could provide. She felt secure in her place.
 
Kim’s suspicions were confirmed the moment she got home and  her collar closed around her neck with a familiar “click.” She knew Sarah “needed” something, and was happy to oblige. 
 
It was not that Sarah had envisioned when Kim moved in to Sarah’s as a roommate the power dynamic that had evolved. In fact, given her upbringing  and sheltered early life, Sarah had no idea that such relationships existed. Nor had Sarah ever been with another female before. It all just kind of happened—almost instinctively as to Sarah. She was a born sexual dominant, at least when it came to girls. 
 
Kim, on the other hand, had a weakness for strong women, particularly in the bedroom, and had moved into Sarah’s house with eyes wide open. Her first kiss from Sarah had sealed her fate. As would be expected, given her sexual preferences, Kim’s submissiveness did not carry  over to her interactions with men, most of whom came to be careful of or fear her male-directed uncompromising tendencies. 
 
It was a blissful night. 

Bill and Tracy Epilogue by Chloe Ann Vixen

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.

Bill and Tracy Part 33 by Chloe Ann Vixen

 

Part 33
 
Candi-Floss had prepared Bill as Elijah,  their “Master,” had directed. Securing him to the spanking horse in the playroom in only his girl’s underwear, without panties, had been easy. He put up no resistance, and was more than docile. She felt bad for him, in a way, but in this world there were clear lines drawn between good behaviors and bad behaviors, and there were several pages in the journal that  spelled out in considerable detail the times he had been bad. And there was no conceivable reason why his behavior shouldn’t be corrected. Of course, maybe she had been a little, well maybe a lot, stricter about writing down his transgressions in the book than was  fair,. But ultimately, the punishments were for his benefit. 
 
After she made sure he was securely bound to the horse, she kissed his forehead. 
 
“Good luck, Sweets!”
 
She waited in the living room for Elijah. Once he arrived, she left for the afternoon shift at the Club. 
 
“Master. I’ll be back at 5:30, Master.”
 
“Take your time, slut.”
 
He had been looking forward to more deeply imposing his will on the sissy for a while. And what better opportunity than the sissy being invitingly bound,  legs spread,  over the spanking horse,  and  three and a half hours to kill? And as submissive as the sissy had become, there was literally no chance that all that happened in that playroom wouldn’t “stay” in that playroom. His cock was uncharacteristically swollen for a correction session— but this was much more than that. 
 
He changed  into the same black leather chaps, vest and boots he had worn when he ‘welcomed’ Bill to Tracy’s studio. Looking into the mirror, pleased with himself,  he thinks  “Continuity is crucial—he’ll soon realize that there is no escape from his  ‘Master’.”
 
He goes to  the playroom.
 
“Hello sissy. I told you that I’d be seeing you soon  when we first met, but you probably didn’t expect to be seeing me quite so often. In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I am a part of this. And because your Mistress doesn’t have the appetite for disciplining you properly, she has granted me that privilege. A privilege I plan to enjoy!”
 
Bill closes his eyes, hoping this will all go away. But it does not. 
 
The domme picks up and leafs  through the punishment log. There are 72 numbered entries. 
 
“It looks like someone has been quite the naughty Maid. We may eventually need to get a bigger book. But for now, it will do.”
 
“First, we need to remove and check your chastity.  You and it are due for a good cleaning. Now no getting hard when I remove it or your punishments will increase.”
 
He unlocks and removes the appliance, cleans what needs cleaning, then replaces and relocks it. 
 
“Good girl!”
 
“Now here’s what’s going to happen. I am dividing the things  to be corrected in the punishment log into groups. Group 1 transgressions, of which there are many, are insubordinate acts—behaviors unacceptable for one having your submissive or subordinate place. They merit the most severe correction. Group 2 are behavior lapses—for any reason other than insubordination. These include your failures to behave within the limits or bounds that have been established for you. Things that you may have forgotten or lapses. The purpose of Group 2 punishments is to ensure you do not forget or lapse again. Group 3 are verbal or oral lapses—speaking when not spoken to, or saying the wrong thing at the wrong time or in the wrong way. While these are the  most minor of lapses, they are punished with equal severity, but by different methods—most often upon the tongue, though I have found ways of visiting unpleasantness upon the entire mouth or lips which I find quite pleasing and which have an equal or more effective deterrent effect.”
 
Bill flashes hot with alarm and dread. 
 
“We have more than enough time to impart the necessary discipline, and I am a man of compassion. So I will allow you to delay, as long as you are able, your punishments. Would you like to know how?”
 
“Mathter. Yeth Mathter!”
 
“You do remember my cock from the other night, don’t you?”
 
“Mathter. Yeth Mathter.”
 
“Well, for as long as you are able to kiss and worship it,  I will delay your punishment. You need not answer. I will place it before your lips, and by your submission to my cock you will have accepted my offer.”
 
Bill soon sees Master’s cock and sweaty balls being brought to his mouth and lips, and his face is enveloped in their  scent. The Master touches the tip of his cock to Bill’s lips. 
 
Bill reaches for it with his lips and kisses it, tentatively. 
 
“That’s a good sissy. I knew you were weak. But I know you can do better than that!”
 
Bill’s reluctance slowly melts away, and his mouth is soon filled with and being fucked by Master’s cock. He feels helpless, but he knows that if he stops his punishment will begin. So he continues. After what seems like a very long passage of time, he feels Master’s cock start to jerk and spasm, at which point it is withdrawn from his mouth.  Spurt after spurt of hot semen splatter across Bill’s face, leaving him humiliated and awash in  self-disgust. 
 
“That’s too bad for you, sissy. I didn’t give you permission to make it cum. I guess we’ll just have to add one more item to be punished for to that list of yours! And let’s start with that—ten cuts with the cane should do. And you are to thank me after each!”
 
And so it began. For Groups 1 and 2, Master read aloud the transgressions. And the punishments, mostly spankings and strikes with a cane or crop, were measured by the number and scope of the transgressions. By the time Elijah is done, Bill’s bottom is a well-beaten red, with the many welted red cane and crop stripes providing contrast. Then it was time for Group 3. 
 
“Today’s punishment for your Group 3 mistakes will be elegant and simple. Now stick out your tongue!”
 
Bill does as directed, and Elijah places first one, and then a second, clothespin on Bill’s tongue. Bill  squeals in pain and protest. The domme just smiles. 
 
“One minute for each oral transgression, plus 15 minutes for good measure. With 37 oral lapses, that adds up to 52 minutes.”
 
The domme proceeds to read each entry begetting this punishment from the log. After 10 minutes, there is nothing more to read, and he turns his attention back to his captive.
 
“You know, sissy, you do have kind of a nice ass, I mean for a sissy. And it looks pretty hot sticking up in the air like that. It makes my dick hard. Real hard! And Candi-Floss isn’t going to be back here for a couple of hours. So just what am I going to do with that tight little ass of yours?”
 
Part 34
 
Candi-Floss returns to Tracy’s apartment at 5:30 to find Elijah casually drinking a beer, and looking through his phone, with Bill in his evening maid’s dress standing with his hands folded near a corner of the room.  His hair and makeup are perfect. 
 
“Maid. Fetch me another beer, and get something for the slut as well!”
 
Bill curtsies. 
 
“Mathter. Yeth Mathter.”
 
“Water for me, Maid.”
 
 Another curtsy. 
 
“Mith.Yeth Mith.”
 
All of us react to trauma in different ways, and Bill’s initial correction session was more than traumatic. He accepted the necessity of being  disciplined—that he had clearly foreseen. But he had in no way expected that he was to become the sexual toy of a dominant male. Sure, he had read in the fiction that the feminized males were occasionally subjected to this fate, but he hadn’t expected it from Tracy. But he had agreed to whatever she wanted, and if this was what she wanted, then he had to accept her will. What he didn’t know was that Tracy had no idea of what the domme had done to Bill in the welcoming session, other than placing the chastity device, nor had she any idea that the domme was going to use  the initial punishment sessions to take sexual advantage of and degrade and humiliate Bill. 
 
While he stood obediently in his dress and heels, Bill was on overload. He was terrified of earning more entries in the log, and even more terrified of displeasing Master. And he was humiliated beyond words. The  worst of it was that he had been denied sexual release and so deeply immersed in the hyper-sexual environment that was his new life for so long,  and his mind was so fogged by arousal, that all he could think of besides trying to be a perfect maid was the desperate  aching and need between his legs. He was nearing mindlessness. The chastity device was  unquestionably doing its job, though it had started allowing  small  squirts of ejaculate at moments of very heightened arousal. The constant resulting dampness in his panties just added to his humiliation. 
 
Tracy was suffering the effects of sexual denial as well. Sure, her Maid and Candi-Floss were more than adept at bringing her off with their mouths, but she needed and craved cock. Bill’s cock. And it was locked away! She was  sexually desperate and helpless to do anything about it. She needed to find a way to get those keys!
 
For tonight’s class, she was going to tie up Bill, and Elijah was going to tie up Candi-Floss. The plan  was for them to look like bound twins—so they were made to wear matching bras and panties, and nothing else. The only observable differences between the two  being his collar and her breasts. After they were bound, they were treated to being allowed to watch Elijah put Tracy through her position training. 
 
Tracy had been drifting into more and more of the submissive mindset during the trainings, but hadn’t realized it. Tonight. her drifting was made even more pronounced by her extreme need for penetrative sex. She needed to be fucked.  Her submissive demeanor, directed toward the alpha male,  was obvious to everyone in the room except her. 
 
This was amusing to Candi-Floss,  more than encouraging to Elijah and unsettling to Bill. Most unsettling. Tracy was “his girl.”
During her trainings she became more and more focused on Elijah’s cock. So much so that by the end of the class it was all she could think about. Her need and his cock were driving her crazy. She needed to speak to him about getting those keys. 
 
When she asked about the keys, Elijah just smiled. 
 
“I don’t think you’re ready yet,” was all he said. 
 
“But when?”
 
“That’s up to me.”
 
As the days passed. She became more and more desperate. It came to a head at her next class. After  Bill had received his weekly cleaning and punishments, he and Candi-Floss had been  tied up and left to themselves in another room in the studio. Elijah was putting Tracy through her paces. Half way through, she  couldn’t help it  any more, and she reached out and grabbed his dick. 
 
He had been expecting something like this, and was actually surprised by how long she had been able to hold out. 
 
“Whoa! What do we have here? Care to explain yourself, Miss?”
 
“I’m sorry. I just need it.  I need to be fucked. I need cock.  Soo badly.”
 
“So you want my cock? You want me to fuck you?”
 
Avoiding eye  contact, she meekly nods her head “yes.”
 
“Well that changes things. I will consider it, but there will be a price.”
 
“A price?”
 
“Yes. A price. I will fuck you if and only if you accept me as your Master. You must submit to me.”
 
“But I am a Mistress, I cannot submit to you.”
 
“But yes you can. And if you want my cock, you will.”
 
“But how, and when?”
 
“You will have to earn it. For our class next Thursday, you will be naked and collared. And you will demonstrate your obedience. And then, if you have pleased me,  I will take you. Until then, I expect you to acknowledge me as your Master in our commutations and interactions. Simple enough. Understood?”
 
“Yes.”
 
“I’m sorry?
 
“Master. Yes Master.”
 
“Very good.”
 
Part 35
 
Things were  odder than usual around Tracy’s apartment and the studio beginning the next day, particularly when Elijah was around. Candi-Floss and Bill were incredulous when they first heard Tracy refer to him as “Master,” and even more so when she started addressing and speaking to  him  as a slave would to her Master—just as they addressed Master Elijah  and  Mistress Tracy themselves. Neither understood. But Mistress’s requirements as to their speech and behavior did not change. If anything, she had become stricter as if to compensate. 
 
On Sunday  morning Tracy received a call from Abagail, the lady who had helped her with Bill’s breast treatment. She was a long and good friend, and a member of that community. 
 
“Tracy dear, we need to talk and it’s pretty important. Can we meet for lunch?”
 
They met at a quiet cafe not too far from Tracy’s apartment. 
 
After exchanging pleasantries, Abigail got down to the reason for the call. 
 
“That friend of yours, ‘Elijah,’ has caused quite a stir in the community. Apparently he was bragging the other night about his conquest of you and the fucking of Bill.”
 
“What? That cannot be true. Elijah and I haven’t even .. . But wait, what did he say about Bill?”
 
“Basically, that he had made Bill suck his cock and fucked him in the ass, and that he was going to do the same to you—maybe this week. And also, the best part, was that you had agreed to become his slave.”
 
Tracy saw red. Fifty shades of red. While the part about her had some truth to it and was deeply embarrassing,  that was personal, very  personal, solely between her and Elijah, and not to be published. But the part about Bill was devastating—how could she have done that, or allowed that to be done, to him? Her eyes welled with tears.
 
“Who knows? How widely has this been spread?”
 
“Pretty widely, and the whole community is upset about it.”
 
“I see. Well, I am going to put an end to it. Would you be willing to help?”
 
“I would be more than happy to.  And I know others will as well.”
 
Tracy shared nothing with Bill, but enlisted the help of Candi-Floss—her price being the removal of her chastity shield. While the chastity shield had been advertised as “permanent,” in fact the piercings could be removed using a special tool,  and only Tracy had the custom-made tool for that particular device. Besides, Tracy had long suspected that Candi-Floss’s busy little fingers had figured out a way to defeat the device—at least as far as masturbation was concerned. Tracy would do that once the ordeal passed and things settled down. 
 
She arranged to sell  the studio, just breaking even, to a few male friends in the scene who agreed to help. They were mostly into guy to guy, which was  important to her plan, but no problem for her. They  wanted to use it as a clubhouse of sorts, and Candi-Floss would receive the sale proceeds. 
 
And Abagail was going to bring her medicine kit. 
 
Thursday night, the night of Bill’s next punishment and her training and promised submission, finally came. Candi-Floss and  Tracy went to the studio to get Bill ready and make the final preparations   There had been, to Bill’s credit, few notations in the punishment log, so the cleaning and punishment session would be short. When all was ready,  Tracy left the building to meet  her helpers nearby, and after Elijah showed up. Candi-Floss pretended to leave, but hid in the bathroom. 
 
The domme changed into his chaps, vest and boots and attended to Bill. First the chastity. As he bent over to remove it, Candi-Floss silently crept into the room, holding a pistol. She aims, and squeezes the trigger. With a muted pop, she nails the Master with a tranquilizer dart squarely in the exposed flesh of his buttocks. 
 
He turns, surprised, and drops like a stone. 
 
“That’s what I call a ‘crack shot,’ Master!”
 
Tracy and Abagail enter first. Abagail fills a hypodermic from a clear glass vial, and injects a healthy dose of Depo Provera and transitioning hormones into Elijah’s hip. Abagail is pleased with her work—
 
“That ought to soften him up and calm him down for quite a while. And he’ll never know what hit him!”
 
Tracy pockets the keys to Bill’s chastity. 
 
Tracy’s other friends soon arrive, and take  it from there. He was to be kept locked in the Maid’s Quarters cell for at least a week, allowing Tracy, Bill  and Candi-Floss to pack and close up the apartment. The three are then going to leave the area and the scene and start over elsewhere. Coincidentally, Abagail had calculated that what she had shot Elijah up with would take about a week for full effectiveness. Without all that nasty testosterone ruling his behavior and with the new hormones coursing around in his veins, he would be quite compliant and submissive. The new studio owners would be in for quite a treat!
 
Tracy promised to tell Bill everything once they got back to the apartment. The three collected Bill’s and their clothes, and Tracy’s most prized toys, from the studio, and left the keys and Elijah to the new owners. As they are leaving, she tells the new owners that if Elijah puts up a fuss, he should be reminded that what he had done to Bill would by itself earn him a very long prison sentence. That he will well  understand. 
 

Bill and Tracy part 28 by Chloe Ann Vixen

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?”

 

Bill and Tracy part 25 by Chloe Ann Vixen

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. “

 

Bill and Tracy part 21 by Chloe Ann Vixen

Part 21
 
Tracy’s initial “class” with the domme left her confused, but she couldn’t put her finger on exactly why. She didn’t submit to him. She didn’t think she had, at least, but she felt like she had been controlled by the directions and the positions. “Am I a submissive?,” she wondered.. And she hadn’t given herself to him sexually, but measured by her trashed panties  there was definitely a sexual aspect there. She eventually decided to not worry too much about it. There was  something that she didn’t understand, though, and she needed to find out more. 
 
Rereading the Gorean Saga, coupled with the domme’s classes, helped her understand more about that discipline  and appreciate its eroticism. She decided that she needed to become more knowledgeable of the subject, and her friend was the perfect person to teach her. As long as he and she stayed dressed for the classes and kept  things professional, even if she found the classes to be more than a little  arousing, she would be safe. 
 
The domme, on the other hand, planned to take her much farther down that path, to the point at which she would  be enslaved. Sexually enslaved to him. So far, she had no idea. 
 
Bill had been having a very difficult time since Tracy’s revelation. Whenever he got the slightest bit aroused, which was almost always, all he could think about were things sissy, his dominatrix girlfriend and the possibilities. Heady stuff. It led to many strong masturbatory fantasies and a constantly abraded penis. He also started buying more sissy things, reading more sissy fiction and sleeping in feminine nightwear and panties most nights of the week. His control over the inner sissy had been lost. 
 
Their weekend meetings became more frequent, in part because of the unsatisfied needs that pent up while they were apart. And their lovemaking became even more passionate and urgent,  almost desperate. 
 
Neither could objectively see what was happening. Bill was by himself while at home most of the time and couldn’t measure how far he had been drawn into his sexual fantasy world. Tracy couldn’t see how deeply she had drifted into the place the domme was taking her either, but the domme could, and he kept taking her deeper and deeper. Candi-Floss did know that something was up, as Tracy more and more frequently demanded her oral ministrations, particularly on days after classes, but was too occupied by her own needs to give it much thought. 
 
Matters became even more interesting during a visit by Tracy to Bill at his apartment. Bill had gone out to pick up some takeout for dinner, and Tracy was looking for one of his tee shirts to wear. She looked in one of the drawers of a dresser and found Bill’s sissy stash, or at least part of it. Panties, pantyhose and stockings, nightgowns, makeup and more. 
 
Her first reaction was surprise—she had no idea it had gone this far and had never actually found a sissy’s stash. But then she realized that she had just gotten much closer to her fantasy. The arousal that followed this realization was almost electric—her breath became shallow—almost panting, and she felt a swelling and tightening down below. She closed the drawer as quickly as she  could and went into the other room to sit down and collect herself. What would she do? What could she do?
 
She had to talk to the domme. 
 
Part 22
 
After she returned from Bill’s, Tracy texted the domme. They met for lunch. 
 
He smiled knowingly as she told him what she had found. What should she do? She was so conflicted. 
 
He had anticipated this moment, or a variant of it, for a while, and knew exactly what he wanted to say. 
 
“It won’t be long until he asks you to play sissy with him. In his mind the sissy play will be over as soon as he returns home,  or  once his mind clears ‘sissy space,’ after which  he’ll want to go on to  other things. That will be very damaging to your side of the relationship. You will feel cheated and  denied. So for both of your sakes you cannot allow that to happen. “
 
“Instead, if you agree to play the ‘game’ with him but make it clear that you will be doing  it as a real, not a pretend, dominatrix, by your rules, that he will have to accept it wholly on your terms and that it will not be a temporary arrangement, then the damage to your side of the relationship will be avoided.  As for his side of the relationship, you will have been honest and forthcoming, he will have agreed to your conditions  and he will receive everything he has ‘wished for,’ even though there might be a little more to the reality than he imagined. I think that is the only way it can be made to work.”
 
“And it won’t just be for a day, an overnight or a weekend. Instead, it will be for as long as you want it to be. And he needs to understand that it will be real.”
 
“Most importantly, he must ask for it, and it must come across as something you are doing for him, not to him.”
 
This makes good sense to Tracy.
 
“So, when he asks, how should I play it?”
 
“I wouldn’t say yes too quickly. Appear hesitant. Maybe say you’ll think about it, or that you’re not sure it’s a good idea. The longer you go before saying yes the more desperately he’ll want it, and the more  malleable he’ll be. At the point at which  he is the weakest you can say ‘Okay, we can try it, but only on my terms’. You will need time to set it up, so give him a starting date. One by which you’ll have made the necessary preparations.”
 
“From there, make it as simple for him as possible. Don’t give him the chance to reconsider. I would be happy to contribute the chastity device—there is a woman in Oregon whose shop makes the best—but they require a cockhead piercing. So make him get pierced before you start. Throw in a couple of small things  for him to do beforehand as well, but not too many. Maybe tell him not to play with himself until then—that would make him fixate on it more. And don’t give him the opportunity to pester you about it.”
 
“I think you are going to want to use some hypnosis on him too. I have just the recordings and am happy to share them with instructions. With enough lead time you can probably make him quite susceptible to further hypnosis training by the time you are ready to start ”
 
“Your in person work with him will take time, so you’ll want him to arrange to be away or out of pocket from work for a while. He may or may not be able to return to work after we. I mean you, are done with  him. He will need time to make arrangements to be away from work. So you will need to factor that in.”
 
“You may want to take some time off from your day job as well.”
 
Tracy furrows her brow—
 
“This might sound odd, particularly coming from me, of all people, but I don’t want Bill to fear me. I don’t want to be constantly punishing him. I love him and may have a hard time hurting him.”
 
“That’s easy. You can use Candi-Floss. She’s pretty good with a cane, and enjoys using it. . And heck, I am more than happy to help. Tell you what, you and the slut keep a log, a ‘punishment log,’ of the sissy’s transgressions, and I will come around once a week and take care of matters.”
 
“You’d do that?”
 
“Yeah, no problem. Maybe we could work it around  our classes.”
 
“I might just take you up on that. But wow, all that sounds like a lot.”
 
“Maybe, but you’re most of way there already.”
 
Part 23
 
It didn’t take long for the domme’s prediction to come true. It was the Friday night  of a weekend in Telluride. It was not skiing weather, so they were just there to see, dine and shop. Bill hadn’t been completely comfortable broaching the topic, but he couldn’t hold back any longer. 
 
“Um, Tracy, I’ve been thinking about when you caught me wearing ‘your’ clothes over my birthday weekend. Would there be any chance we could try that again? That might be a fun thing to do one one of these weekends.”
 
“Bill, honey, I don’t know. That would be mixing my after-hours work with pleasure. And you haven’t had the best past experiences with that stuff. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
 
The disappointment shows on Bill’s face. 
 
“Maybe think about it? Please?
 
“Okay. I will. But I’m really not sure.”
 
And they moved on to other topics. 
 
He followed up at dinner two weeks later—
 
“Have you given any more thought to me maybe submitting to you as a, well, you know?”
 
She smiles to herself as he says this—he’s so sweet and wants this so much. 
 
“A little. But if we were going to do it, I’d want to do it right, really right, and it would take a good bit of advance planning. I would hate for you to be disappointed. Let me give it some more thought.”
 
The next time he asks, a couple weeks later. she’s ready to say yes—
 
“Well okay, but here’s how it will have to be. Even though I do what I do after hours, I have fantasies too. And for this to work for me it will have to be to be what I want. Part of my fantasy. Otherwise, I don’t want us to do it.”
 
“So my question to you is will you completely accept my rules without question? Understand that I am really and truly a dominatrix, and will be in absolute control of this, not  you. This may  change our relationship dramatically, and once we start, there may be no going back.”
 
“And by accepting, you will be agreeing to whatever I want.”
 
“Give it some thought, make sure you are certain. and let me know sometime next week.”
 
Tracy knew he would agree. She felt a little bad about manipulating him,  but it seemed to be something he really wanted. And she wanted him to be happy. Given where things were, there really wasn’t any other way. 
 
Bill anguished over his answer. He desperately wanted it, but just as desperately loved Tracy and what they had. And this very thing had ruined his prior marriage. But she did say that whatever they did would be “part her fantasy.” So he reasoned that he could go along with it for her sake as well. 
 
After a difficult deliberation, he accepted. “For Tracy,” he told himself.
 
He told her. 
 
Tracy was delighted, but tried not to let on-/
 
“Very well. We will start in four weeks or as soon after that as you can arrange for a leave of absence from work. And we will not see each other or, unless I bring it up, speak of this until then. Understood!”
 
“Yes. Understood.”
 
Part 24
 
The next weeks were very long weeks for Tracy and Bill. Both of their days were consumed with excited anticipation. Tracy continued with the domme’s classes, and the domme progressively tightened his control over her. And he continued, during the classes, to “innocently” present her with a face full of his cock and balls at every opportunity. In her constantly aroused state, the classes became increasingly sexual. Even her  interest in the rope bondage  increased, so much so that she asked to be tied up herself in one session. After she had been immobilized and started to feel the effects of the bondage,  Candi-Floss had made the mistake of taunting her with a stupid comment, and paid the price by spending the rest of the class bound at the domme’s feet paying homage to his shoes. Being tied up with a crotch knot and having to watch that spectacle  did nothing to help Tracy’s level of arousal. 
 
Bill got up extra early on the chosen day, very much looking forward to getting laid once he got to Tracy’s apartment. As for the sissy thing, he had no idea what Tracy  had  planned. Other than being told to have his cock pierced, with a reverse deep shaft Prince Albert piecing (the 6 gauge curved barbell for which was sent in the mail to him by Tracy,  courtesy of the domme), which he had done three weeks before, to listen to the hypnosis recordings, which he had done exactly as directed, to not masturbate after being pierced, which he had not, and to wear the pink satin panties Tracy had sent him on the plane, nothing had been said about it. And he was horny as hell.
 
His flight arrived at 8:30 in the morning, local time.  He was awash in feelings and emotions—worried, excited, afraid, aroused, and other feelings and  emotions he couldn’t even begin to name.
 
He had gotten through TSA screening without his piercing having been an issue, his primary concern there being the possibility of his pink panties being discovered in the search process. 
 
He looks for Tracy as he clears the passenger area. She had said she would meet him. Instead, he finds a very sexy,  provocatively-dressed,  blonde  holding up a sign with his name on it. She waves to him—
 
“Bill! Honey! Tracy sent me to pick you up!”
 
He walks over to her—
 
“You must be Candi-Floss. Tracy has told me a lot about you. Nice to finally meet.”
 
“That’s me, in the flesh, and the pleasure is mine (looking down at his cock). And Mistress Tracy  was right, you are quite the cutie. I could just eat you all up!”
 
“Yes, I’ve heard that about you too. And you’re even prettier than Tracy let on.”
 
“Why thank you, Bill. Mistress Tracy has set up a few appointments to prepare you, and she asked me if I could take you around. Is that your only bag?”
 
“Yes. Nothing checked.”
 
“Good. Then let’s get going. We are on a tight schedule.” 
 
Once they clear the airport campus they drive about 30 minutes and stop at a small retail area. Candi-Floss is a chatter box, talking nervously about this and that. Bill likes her, in spite of what he can only describe as her mindlessness. “Chalk that up to Tracy,” he thinks.  They stop in front of a shop with a sign “Laser Hair Removal.”
 
“Your appointment is at 10:00, but I’m sure they’ll take you early.”
 
“Woah!  Hair removal? Tracy didn’t say anything about that. Is it really necessary?”
 
“I’m sorry, but it is absolutely necessary for a sissy. You do want to be a sissy, don’t you?  Then you should know that. And Mistress Tracy warned me that you might try to resist some of the preparations She told me to tell you that you’ve agreed to whatever she wants, and you can just get back on a plane if you don’t want to go through with this. And don’t even think about calling her. She likely won’t answer, and she told me to tell you that  if you beg or plead, even a little, it’s back east for you.”
 
“Now, should we go back to the airport?”
 
Bill takes a deep breath. “Tracy is just making this seem more real, “ he thinks. 
 
“No. We don’t need to go back. What Tracy wants, Tracy gets.”
 
“Tell me about it! Shall we go in?”
 
(Bill sighs.)
 
“Lead the way.”
 
They walk in. Candi-Floss is in control. They approach the reception desk. 
 
“Hi! He’s here for a 10:00 appointment.”
 
“Name?”
 
“Billie.”
 
“Great! Full body hair, correct?”
 
“That’s correct. But the hair on the top of the head, other than the neck, and the eyebrows, stay. But our Mistress does want the work she mentioned done on the eyebrows.”
 
“Of course. Right this way.”
 
Bill steels himself, and follows her back. 
 
The procedures take about 90 minutes. Without body hair, Bill feels oddly naked. And his denuded skin is soft and silky, almost feminine. He had never imagined that his skin could feel that way. They get back into the car. 
 
“Our next appointment is at 12:00. We should have just enough time.”
 
“Next appointment?”
 
“Yes. The salon. So you can be pretty.”
 
Bill shudders.
 
“Yes. Mistress Tracy has already given them instructions.”
 
“I don’t even want to know..”
 
Bill quickly finds himself wearing only a pink linen  robe and his panties,  awaiting a full body skin treatment intended to help with the minor irritation caused by the laser treatment. From there it was on to his hair. After his hair was washed and dyed, extensions were added and it was prettily cut and styled. His hair was now the same color and  cut in the same style as Candi-Floss’s. 
 
He smiles at this. “Tracy must be collecting blondes,” he thinks. 
 
He is next taken to the makeup area, where the technician matches  products to his skin tone and eye color, then makes him over and shows him how to apply and, where necessary, blend, the various products. Concealer, foundation, blush, bronzer, eyeliner, eyeshadow, mascara and several lip products.  His makeup is perfect, and he is given a large bag full of brushes, beauty  blenders and his new products. 
 
Finally, he is taken to the nail technician for a manicure and pedicure. His nails are extended, and polished a lovely and very feminine light pink. 
 
When he goes to get dressed, once finally finished, his clothes are gone. In their place are  a short collared white dress, white panties, an AA cup bra, also white, in his band size, a hat accented with a pink ribbon, pink stockings and several other pink items, and a pair of low-heeled Mary Jane’s. It was Candi-Floss’s outfit, except in his size and with pink accessories. rather than her blue. He calls Candi-Floss back.
 
“I can’t wear this.  I’ll look like a total girl!”
 
She laughs and giggles. This is quite funny to her. 
 
“I’m afraid you most certainly can. Your clothes have been securely locked away. You can either wear it to see Mistress Tracy, or wear it to the airport and on the plane. Your choice. And you’re worried about looking like a total girl? Really, sissy? Have you not looked in a mirror?”
 
This stopped Bill cold. He looks at himself in the mirror. He sees only a girl. A pretty girl at that. His cock stirs. Candi-Floss was right. She isn’t that mindless after all. 
 
Candi-Floss helps him dress. In the mirror, they look like sisters. Slutty sisters. 
 
He winces. 
 
“Doing okay, sissy?”
 
“I guess.”
 
He was glad to have that over with, but starts  to worry about what more might be in store. 
 
They get to the car. Candi-Floss takes a small bottle of perfume from her purse and spritzes on the inside of her wrists. Then rubs her wrists on the sides of her neck.
 
“Now, some for you.”
 
She sprays his wrists, and he repeats the ritual. He now smells unmistakably girl. 
 
“Are we going to Tracy’s apartment?”
 
“No. Not quite yet.”
 
“I was afraid of that. Where to now?”
 
“The piercing studio. Don’t worry, they’re really nice and professional. They did me, in fact.”
 
“Your ears and nose?”
 
“Yes. Tongue too. But I’m not wearing  the tongue ball now. And my nipples and belly button.  You’ll love being pierced like that!”
 
“We’re going to be pierced the same?”
 
“Yep. Except for our privates. They pierced my clitty and nether lips too, but  I understand that your privates have already been taken care of.”
 
“What more is she having done.? This is a lot—maybe too much!.”
 
“Nothing more today. And be glad—she made me get a tramp stamp tattoo. It says ‘Pusscakes.’ So humiliating!”
 
“I’m glad she’s not giving me one. I take some consolation in that.”
 
“Yeah. They were booked and couldn’t fit you in. She waited too long to call. Lucky you, I guess!”
 
“Here we are!”
 
The piercings don’t take too long. 
 
Bill is now pierced, from the waist  up, exactly as Tracy pierced herself for him. And exactly as Candi-Floss is pierced. 
 
“Pleathe tell me we’re done for today.”
 
“We’re done. Next stop, Tracy’s studio.”
 
“Thtudio?”
 
“Yes, her play space. Her dungeon. Nice lisp, by the way!” (Smiling teasingly.)  “Tho thithy.”
 
“Thtop it!  Will Trathy be there?”
 
“You mean Mistress Tracy? Yes. In a while.”
 
Thank God!”