by Audra Black
“Yes,” he said.
“Yes, Mistress,” Gina scolded. “From now on you will only refer to me as Mistress.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Richae said nervously as the tiny nail brush began painting shiny red blotches onto his fingernails. Soon the red liquid was smoothed out over each nail and his hands looks so pretty.
“Just leave them there and let them dry for now,” Mistress Gina said. “Don’t move them.”
He didn’t want to move them anyway, all he wanted to do was to admire his beautiful girly hands. He heard giggles across the aisle, but he ignored them even as he felt himself growing red.
“Your face almost matches your nails, Richae. What’s the matter, don’t you like being my sissy?”
“I don’t like being laughed at, Mistress,” Richae said.
“But you’re a sissy. People laugh at sissies. It’s the way of things. Embrace your role in this world. Shame and pleasure should be your constant companion.”
Richae wasn’t sure how he felt about his new role. He did love his beautiful new girly hands, but he wasn’t sure he could take being mocked for the rest of his life. Wasn’t that why he had hidden for so long?
“Your nails are dry now, time to do your toes, take off your shoes and place your feet in my lap,” Mistress Gina instructed.
“What? But that would be weird,” Richae complained.
“My commands are never weird,” Mistress Gina said. “Remember, you have a choice here. Be the laughingstock of this plane or be fired by your extremely conservative boss. Your choice,”
When she put it like that, Richae had no choice, and he slipped off his heavy business shoes, peeled off his scratchy black socks, and placed his feet on Mistress Gina’s lap. He had to turn awkwardly in his seat and press his back against the window to accommodate her. At any moment now, the flight attendant was sure to pass by and order him to sit properly. But until then he was Mistress Gina’s helpless captive.
“Your feet are rather small,” Mistress Gina said, “and remarkably hairless. You see, my sissy, nature gave you sissy feet. One coat of polish will only enhance that look.”
“I wear the smallest men’s shoe size,” Richae admitted while Mistress Gina delicately painted each one of his toe nails. Transforming them into two things he might actually enjoy looking at. He had always covered his tiny feet before, not wanting to look at them. But now. Now they looked so nice he almost wished he could show them off.
“There, that’s done,” Mistress Gina said, “let’s take care of your hair while we wait for them to dry.”
“My hair isn’t long enough to do anything with,” Richae said, self-consciously. His hair was almost as short as Mistress Gina’s.
“Hair can easily be grown, sissy toy,” she said, pulling out a tall green spray bottle, “Close your eyes and let me spray your head.”
Richae closed his eyes and wondered what the spray would do to his head.
“You may open them now,” Gina said.
Richae did so and raised a hand to touch his hair. Only there was a lot more hair for him to touch. His eyes widened in wonder as he stroked his long hair which now hung below his shoulders.
“How did you do that?” He asked.
“I told you hair can grow,” Mistress Gina said smugly. “Now let me brush your new hair. I think you would look really cute in pigtails.”
“Pigtails?” Richae squeaked. He used to secretly dream of having adorable pigtails. How had she known?
Mistress Gina took out a pink brush and began brushing his long chestnut brown hair, parting it precisely down the middle. Then she began to tightly braid the hair on the right side of his head, tying it all together with a red ribbon when it was braided as tightly as possible. Then she did the same with the hair on the left side of his head.
Her hands on his head, the strokes through his hair, the tightening of his braids, all felt so good to Richae.
Once she was through, Gina said, “Okay, your nails are dry, get your feet off my lap and sit upright, but don’t put those nasty shoes of yours back on. You will no longer wear any masculine masks in my presence.”
Richae left his shoes and socks off, he didn’t want to cover his pretty tootsies anyway.
“Now, time to do your makeup.” Mistress Gina said, “we start with the primer, this will help everything glide on smoother.”
Richae spotted the man in the seat behind him, smirking, in between the seats.
“Look at me, not him,” Mistress Gina said sharply. “The only person’s approval you need from now on is mine. And I will not approve of you until you are fully a woman. Now look straight ahead, while I apply your eye primer.”
Richae struggled to do as Mistress Gina said. Her approval was all he needed and she wanted to turn him into a woman. Richae desperately wanted to be a woman. At least sometimes. He worried how long these changes Gina was making would last. Would he be forced into being a woman full time? No, she couldn’t. He’d lose his job if she did that to him.
“Now we apply the foundation,” she said, dabbing away at his cheeks with a soft black brush. “Next time we’ll do this in the mirror so you can learn to do it yourself.”
The thought of applying his own makeup terrified Richae, but as long as he didn’t have to do it now, he decided to not worry about it and just relax and enjoy the feeling of being painted up.
“Bronzer next, and then the blush to cover up your self-consciousness.”
Those things also felt nice, but then Mistress Gina took out the tweezers and began plucking his eyebrows.
“Ow, ow, ow,” he cried as she mercilessly yanked his eyebrow hairs from their shafts.
“Consider that pain your penance for allowing your brows to grow so hideously,” Gina said. “Now I’m going to redraw and shape them so that they will actually look attractive.”
Richae did not enjoy the eye portion of his makeover. It was tedious and painful and his pride was feeling a little wounded. Hideous was a strong word.
Mistress Gina carefully and critically added shadow, liner and mascara until his eyes felt heavy and sticky and something else, he couldn’t quite place.
“Almost done now. You’ve been a patient girl, so far. All you lack now is the powder to hold all your makeup in place, and then you may return to the lavatory to check yourself out in the mirror. I promise you’ll love what you see.”
Richae was skeptical, but didn’t think it wise to voice his doubts. Once she was finished, Richae quickly made his way to the back of the plane, not daring to look at anyone nor to turn toward any whispers or giggles. He went straight to the lav and locked himself in.
He didn’t recognize the face he saw in the mirror. The face he expected to see was an anxious, miserable male, but the face he saw was beautiful. Long, thick glittery eyelashes, smooth white skin with lovely pale pink cheeks. There was no hint of stubble, no nicks or blemishes, anywhere. He couldn’t believe this was his face. Then he realized it wasn’t his face, it was her face. It was Richae’s, and she almost cried because she was so happy.
Suddenly, there was a sharp rap on the door. “It’s Mistress Gina, let me in.”
Richae was still so happy she unlocked the door and let Mistress Gina squeeze in, without a second thought.
“Now for the biggest changes,” Gina announced. “Undress, take off everything, that bra will be too small once I am through with you.”
Richae was shy and didn’t want to undress in front of Mistress Gina, but she did so anyway because she knew somehow that it would be all right.
The first thing Mistress Gina did was to stab Richae in the arm with a long silver needle.
“What will that do?” Richae asked.
“Watch and see, my sissy,” she said in an almost friendly voice.
Richae waited impatiently for a few moments until things started happened. Wow, did they happen. Firstly, her cock shrunk and shrunk until she couldn’t see it anymore. Then her scrotum disappeared and turned into
a vagina, And then she grew breasts. Great big, beautiful boobies. One moment her chest was flat, and the next she was a D cup!
“Oh My God,” Richae said, “You turned me into a woman. You said you would, but I didn’t really believe you. Bloody hell. I’m gorgeous. But you can take it all back, right? If I want to go back to being a man? This won’t last forever?”
“Why would you want to go back to what you were before? A miserable, failure of an imitation of a man? I told you, already, Richae. You are not a man. It hurt my heart to see you pretending and failing so hard. Now I’ve transformed you into who you really are.”
‘But my job,” Richae protested. “My boss is a huge bigot. He would fire me the minute he found out I’d turned into a woman.”
“So I’ll find you a new job. I have many friends who could use a good girl like you to serve them.”
Richae didn’t like the sound of that. She had always secretly dreamed of being a woman. But she had never dreamed of being a servant.
“You’ll need training, of course, which I will graciously provide for you. Don’t look so worried, my sissy. You’ll learn to love it, I promise.”
Richae had her doubts, but then she remembered doubting Mistress Gina’s promise to make her a woman, and her makeup expertise. Perhaps she was wrong about her mistress again. Should she learn to trust her?
An announcement blared over the loudspeaker, announcing they would be arriving in Boise soon.
“Let’s get you dressed before we land,” Mistress Gina said. She had brought her pink bag into the lav with her, and somehow, she was able to pull a wrinkle free outfit from it and hang it up on a hook, over the sink.
The clothing bag held everything Richae would need to look like a stylish and super cute lady. First was the red thong with the tiny little berries which she pulled up over her fresh new vagina. That was going to take the most time to get used to. None of Richae’s fantasies had ever taken it quite that far.
Next she pulled out a very large, cherry red bra, which fit snugly and alluringly over her new boobs. Richae found herself mesmerized by how gorgeous her boobs looked.
“Yes, yes, I do marvelous work. But the fasten seat belt sign is going to flash back on at any moment. So hurry up and finish dressing,” Mistress Gina said.
Richae took out the soft, white silk blouse and put it on, fastening the buttons around her new cleavage. There were only 3 buttons, so that the tops of her breasts were visible.
Over the blouse, she pulled on a cherry red cardigan, which hung just a wee bit lower than the blouse, so that a collar of white could be seen just below her boobs. Next were the blood red fishnet stockings, with toe holes, so that her polish could still be seen and admired. Richae carefully pulled her stockings up, thankful that she always kept her nails cut short. Once her stockings were in place and all wrinkles smoothed out, she pulled on the short, shiny, bright red skirt. Dark red, open-toed heels were presented for her feet and then Mistress Gina brought out the jewelry.
“I give jewels to all my sissies to symbolize my care and ownership of them. If you put these on, you are agreeing to be mine and to do whatever I command you from now until one of us dies.”
That was a gargantuan commitment, Richae thought, and she didn’t have much time to make it, as the first warning for passengers to return to their seat sounded.
“It’s not fair to ask me to make a choice like this with so little time,” Richae complained.
“Fair is for losers,” Mistress Gina said. “Refuse me and be a loser again. Your choice.”
Richae didn’t want to be a loser. She also didn’t want to continue living in fear, and so she quickly snapped the white pearl earrings to her ears, and wrapped the delicate pearl necklace around her neck.
Mistress Gina looked Richae carefully over, then said, “One thing is missing.” She took out a small bottle of perfume and spritzed Richae’s neck. The perfume smelled like jasmine and gardenia’s. Gina had marked Richae with her own scent.
“There, now you’re ready to make your debut. I approve,” Mistress Gina said with a real smile that reached her ocean blue eyes.
Pleasure rippled up and down Richae’s body. Mistress Gina was pleased with her! Gina slid open the door and left, but Richae hung back for a moment to admire herself one more time. She hated to admit it, but she took her own breath away. Mistress Gina truly knew what she was doing. Richae could have never imagined looking so hot and desirable.
As she returned to her seat, she didn’t cower or slink. She walked confidently and proudly. She wasn’t a failing loser man anymore. She was Mistress Gina’s sissy, and all the hooting, hollering, and cat calls she received as she returned to her seat, felt like compliments rather than insults.
She clicked her seat belt on mere moments before the final warning and the mandatory seat belts sign flashed on.
“What happens after we land, Mistress?” Richae asked as she felt the plane begin lowering for its descent.
“You will go home and take care of your affairs. Then I’ll call you, and you will come to my training center to meet my other sissies and to begin your new life.”
Richae was super nervous about her upcoming new life, yet everything Mistress Gina had done for her so far had worked out, so she had to trust that whatever her future held would work out for her, as well. Their plane landed at the Boise airport way too soon, and before she was ready, Richae was slinging her duffel over her shoulder and lining up to walk off the plane.
“Wait a second,” the flight attendant, who had spent all her time at the front of the plane said as Richae tried to exit the plane. “I don’t recognize you. I have a photographic memory and I recall every one who boarded this flight. But I don’t remember you.”
“That’s because when I walked on this flight, 2 hours ago, I was a man,” Richae said, “but now I’m getting off as a woman.”
The End
Femdom Pain Club: Book 1
Dominated by Mistress Lita
Audra Black
It was Gregory Krail’s first visit to the Femdom Pain Club. He was nervous and excited and unsure of what exactly would happen to him once he went inside. Before he was admitted he had to fill out a pre-screening questionnaire and sign a zero liability waiver just in case something unexpected happened to him inside. Greg wondered if any guys had ever died during a scene? Maybe some of the older guys had weak hearts or maybe a Dominatrix sat on a guy’s face too long and suffocated him.
Greg was pretty confident he’d be okay. He was a young guy, after all, in his early twenties, in good health with an athletic build. He was blond with a pretty boy face and was quite well hung. Out there he could have his pick of the ladies, yet he was always too intimidated and ashamed to reveal to any of them his secret desire to be dominated by a woman. Because he felt like he’d been waiting his entire life for a place like this to open near him, he found himself eagerly ticking yes to all of the proposed acts on the permissions sheet:
Predicament Bondage
Captivity
CFNM (Clothed Female, Naked Male)
Facesitting
Wax Play
Whipping, Spanking, Caning, Flogging
CBT (Cock and Ball Torture)
Edging (Orgasm Control)
Pony Play
Humiliation
Foot Worship
Tongue Worship
Pegging
He wasn’t sure what pony play was, but if it was on the list he signed up for it. What was the worst that could happen, he asked himself? The permissions contract explicitly said he would be provided with his own private safe word that if used would immediately pause or stop any action he became too uncomfortable with. So there was no reason for him to hold back and not be willing to try anything they chose to throw at him.
After what felt like an eternity of waiting, a tall red headed beauty with long luscious legs, wearing a skintight black leather dress, fishnet stockings and 6 inch stiletto heels approached him.
“I promise to obey you, Mistress,” Greg said eagerly.
“Excellent. Now follow me into the dungeon.”
Greg followed Mistress Lita unhesitatingly through the swinging black doors, his cock already growing hard from anticipation. His life was going to change now, well and truly, and he was ready for it! At least he thought he was.
Mistress Lita led Greg down a long dark corridor lit only with low red light sconces designed to resemble medieval torches. In the background, coming from inside private dungeon doors he heard screams of both pain and ecstasy. They didn’t fool around in here, he thought nervously as he continued following his new Mistress down the long scary hallway.
She stopped before a red door marked with the number 13. “This will be your own private dungeon while you’re here,” she said, pulling a long gray skeleton key out from between her large, ample breasts. “Before we go in, your safe word is Mundane. As in if you choose to stop an action or stop a scene, you are asking to be returned to your old mundane life. Repeat it for me so I know that you understand.”
“My safe word is Mundane,” Greg said obediently, thinking that he’d never forgive himself if he actually whussed up enough to use it.
“Also, the first rule of the dungeon is that all males who enter must be naked,” Mistress Lita said. “So go on now. Take it all off, including your tidy-whities.”
He’d been expecting the nudity since it said it right there on the form, but he hadn’t expected to have to undress out there in the corridor. To make matters even more embarrassing he saw a blond girl in a slutty white maid’s uniform approaching him.”
“What are you waiting for?’ Mistress Lita asked sternly. “I said take them off. Maid Emmeline has seen it all before. It’s her job to collect and care for our slaves clothing.”