‘Maria’s boy, Peter,’ she says. ‘A very good beginning, I think. She has been christened Petal. Very nice. Take her down to the Induction Room.’
Then the trolley is moving again, across the elegant grandiose hall and down into another dark but this time much longer corridor. He ponders the woman and the Induction Room. This is only the beginning of a strange adventure, one that fascinates and arouses.
Soon they are in a lift. It descends quickly. As the doors open into a basement corridor, he looks up at the woman on his right and realises it is the lovely sissy voiced she-male who had so carefully and gently placed him in this far from unpleasant fetish bondage. She returns his curious, yet no longer fearful look with a pleasant reassuring smile. Then the trolley is moving forward, down a white corridor, the crystal-white ceiling lights giving the impression not of the underworld, but of a heavenly reception centre.
There is a pause followed by the sound of a door sliding open and he is wheeled into a very large circular room with a huge oval light in the centre of a broad curved ceiling.
It is almost an operating theatre. And the operation is, he knows, his induction into feminine frillies and permanent petticoat discipline. Yes, he is now a prisoner of the Bigger Picture. He is therefore no longer male in the true sense of the word. Here, he can only be a sissy slave, a male transformed into a she-male servant whose desire has been moulded to make him the very essence of ultra-feminisation.
He is removed from the trolley and made to stand up by the mysterious she-male, balancing precariously, his vision a mist of scented white nylon. Yet even through the stocking hood he can make out the essential details: a large white room with curved walls and a dome-like roof; the doorway through which they have entered and another door, almost directly opposite; two large white wardrobes placed, rather strangely, in the dead centre of the room, next to an ornate white wooden dressing table with a large elegantly framed oval mirror and a white leather-backed stool; a shelved metal table loaded with a variety of very strange-looking, mainly metal items and by this a mysterious gym horse-like device with a thick white leather body, supported by four wooden legs that extend outwards at 45-degree angles. In a corner of the room there is a shower cubicle.
Then Peter’s attention is dragged from his surroundings by the entry of a true vision of shocking and highly erotic ultra-femininity, a gorgeous manifestation of sissy beauty that inspires a gasp of profound excited surprise.
She is dressed in pink. Of course! A truly startling pink maid’s dress made of a glimmering pink satin: a strikingly short dress balancing on a thick sea of sexy frou-frou petticoating out of which flow a pair of truly perfect legs sealed in sheer white nylon tights decorated with hundreds of tiny pink silk roses. Through the fine film of white nylon he can make out long fresh welts running across the back of her thighs.
Her feet are bound into six-inch stiletto-heeled ankle boots coated in shimmering white silk and laced tightly into position with pink silk ribbons. The dress itself is very tight and deliberately reveals and accentuates a marvellously pneumatic figure dominated by a narrow waist (clearly the product of robust corseting) and a very large and firm bosom. Over the dress has been tightly secured a white silk pinafore that gives the impression her breasts are trying to fight their way out of their various layers of deeply erotic fetishistic restraint.
Her hair, which is bound into a very tight bun with a length of pink silk ribbon tied in a fat bow, is strawberry blonde, and her eyes – which seem unnaturally large, even doll-like – are a gentle sky blue and emit the warmth of a terrible aching mind-bending desire. Her beautifully shaped voluptuous lips are shaped into a helpless O of desire. She looks up at Peter and he feels a sudden and very powerful sexual arousal.
She comes up to his three abductors and performs a deep graceful curtsey.
‘Good,’ the dark-skinned woman says. ‘Now we’re all ready.’
There is a brief pause as she considers Peter. Then she continues.
‘I have no intention of wasting my breath welcoming you to the national headquarters of the Bigger Picture and the base of operations of the Sissy Maids Company. Equally, I have no intention of explaining in any detail why you are here. Suffice to say that you are here to be radically transformed, and in the process of transformation serve a great and profound cause, a cause that will change world history permanently. So, in a way, you are truly privileged. You may not realise this for some time. But, eventually, when your changing has been completed, you will see – I am sure – the glorious truth of your new life and the role you will play in the greatest adventure in human history.’
Peter listens to this gorgeous woman and suspects she is – if only a little – mad. Yet her madness is contained by her great beauty and the impressive reality of the Bigger Picture. He looks at her perfectly formed heaving breasts and feels his cock strain against a wall of sheer nylon. A sense of submissive bliss swirls within his pounding heart. He feels dizzy with need. He imagines kneeling at her precisely heeled feet and kissing the gleaming leather tips of her court shoes.
‘But before you begin to understand, you must be properly inducted. Thus, in the next few days, you will undergo a harsh regime of the strictest feminisation at the hands of experienced mistresses of the Bigger Picture and begin to understand what will be required of you: absolute unquestioning obedience and complete surrender to the feminine. The destruction of your wretched male self and the establishment of the a new personality: the helplessly sissy slave, ultra-feminine, erotically docile and desperately servile object of female control. You will be transformed mentally and physically. You will be changed completely and permanently. And you will come to understand your transformation and to desire it: to need it in order to live. You will become an addict of a desire that will overwhelm and destroy your ugly, flawed and now useless male personality. Yes: this is the key to the therapy that will overwhelm you and all males: your desire – the hungry violent male desire that has so warped human history. This is the weapon with which we – womankind – will control you; the drug that will ensure your absolute and willing obedience to an irresistible philosophy of desire.’
Peter notices that as her rhetoric increases in power she is becoming visibly aroused. There is a film of sweat over her face, and he imagines that there is dampness elsewhere, a thought that he finds terribly exciting.
‘We know from your mother that you have already established certain key character traits that make you ideal for changing. This will assist our need to act quickly. And as time is of the essence, I suggest we start immediately.’
She then steps closer and eases the stocking hood from Peter’s face. Her powerful rose perfume teases his hot flushed nostrils and he moans into the fat gag as her nails graze slightly against his damp bulging cheeks. She discards the hood and then sets to work carefully peeling the nylon body glove from his body. Eventually the sheer nylon body glove is pulled down over his hips and his thick stiff sex pops out on full deeply embarrassing display.
Peter moans into his gag and blushes a dark horrified crimson. The two women burst into loud cruel laughter and Peter feels his soul shrink to the size of a humiliated pea.
Then he is forced to step out of the stocking. The cords binding his legs and wrists are very quickly removed and he is, except for the pungent gag, momentarily free from the ambivalent torments of his ultra-kinky bondage. Yet this freedom is at the price of the final tattered vestiges of his dignity, for his cock – ridiculously rampant – is now stretching up before the combined view of the women, the black-suited she-male and the spectacular sissy with a terrible unnerving enthusiasm. This, plus the taste of his mother’s most intimate regions, is enough to crush his will to resist absolutely and forever. Yet his will is already weak, as they obviously know, and this latest humiliation only serves to stress one simple fact: he is finding this entire weird ritual deeply arousing.
From the metal table, the second woman, the cool-eyed blonde, takes what
looks like a white aerosol canister. She steps forward and then points it directly at Peter, unleashing a cold thick foam onto his chest. She quickly covers the whole of his upper body in this strange goo and then his arms and legs. The can, emptied, is then discarded. The dark-skinned woman, using a pink leather cloth, then begins to massage the foam deep into his body. As this massaging also includes his pubes and the crack between his tight, always feminine buttocks, the process is far from unpleasant! However, within a few minutes, he becomes aware of a strange warm tingling and a look of distinct alarm fills his big girlish eyes.
‘Don’t worry, prettiness, we just need it to become clearly uncomfortable.’
The blonde’s words drip with sadistic tease and within a few seconds the tingling has progressed to a state that he would describe, if he wasn’t so tightly gagged, as very uncomfortable. And soon he is hopping and squealing and the women, the she-male and the sissy are laughing with open cruelty at his suffering.
It is only when tears are trickling from his pretty eyes, his foamed buttocks are wiggling uncontrollably and his sex is bouncing before him like a particularly mad jack in the box, that the she-male takes him by the hand and leads him across the vast room towards the shower cubicle. She quickly helps him inside and, within seconds, a sheet of ice cold heart-stopping water is crashing over his tormented form. He screams, but there is only a slight vaguely angry squeal thanks to the highly water-resistant tape sealing his delicate lips firmly shut.
And as the cold water washes the thick pink foam from his body, there is a new sensation and a striking change. The new sensation is one of the most pleasant silkiness. Suddenly his skin is both ultra-sensitive and alive with an erotic electricity. Then there is the fact of what remains: his body is now completely hairless, every spec of hair previously on his teenage form has been burnt away by the foam. Also, his skin now appears a bright sissy pink!
The she-male turns the shower tap off and leads him back to the centre of the room wrapped in a very soft pink towel that torments his new sexualised flesh with what feels like a thousand teasing kisses of dark sissy love.
Naked, denuded, baby fresh and thus reborn, Peter – an expression of pure aroused shock filling his wide sky-blue eyes – parades helplessly before his captors, his silken cock a sword of sex doom. And as he wiggles before them, astonished, aroused, and yet also deeply ashamed in some indefinable way, his eyes meet those of the gorgeous sissy and, once again, he sees a terrible inescapable desire for him and for what he is about to become.
Smiling with a slightly melodramatic cruelty, the dark-skinned woman then leads him to the gym horse and insists he lie face down against its gleaming smooth hard leather surface. She then attaches his wrists to leather shackles positioned at each end of the horse’s thick warm body and his ankles to similar shackles attached to the two other legs, thus leaving him spread-eagled face down, his buttocks stretched helplessly and widely apart, his arsehole on intimate and rather clinical display.
What happens next is both horrifying and, to his astonishment, deeply exciting. First, the gorgeous sissy steps forward, kneels down so that she is both by him and slightly beneath the horse’s body. Then, she grabs hold of his achingly hard cock. He squeals with utter heart-stopping shock, yet his bondage makes any resistance to this startling intervention impossible. At first her grip is hard, unforgiving, but then he feels her hands relax slightly and, to his further amazement, she begins very gently to masturbate its rigid length! He squeals with a helpless stunned pleasure: her caress is expert and almost loving. He fights to look down at her, but his position makes it very difficult to see anything clearly.
Then he feels his cock being pulled forward and suddenly the caressing hands are harsh and unforgiving as they pull his teased member into what feels like some form of tight rubber glove. Then thin cording is being tied around the glove, thus pulling his cock firmly into place and holding it strictly and rather painfully beneath the horse.
Then he looks up and sees Pansy staring at him. She is now standing on the other side of the horse, an aroused smile on her beautiful face.
‘I think she likes you.’
These are the dark-skinned woman’s words. Peter feels his sex twitch helplessly in its bondage and feasts his tormented eyes on the stunning hyper-erotic beauty of the sissy. This, he knows, is the model his own transformation will be based upon. He looks at her tight pink dress, at the way her large perfectly formed breasts strain so desperately against the shimmering silk pinafore, and he knows this is all he wants. He tastes his mother’s panties and remembers her great beauty. He remembers his secret visits to her bedroom, to investigate the endlessly arousing delights of her underwear drawer. He remembers running his hands through her sheer nylon tights and dreaming of both his own legs wrapped in this endlessly erotic material. Yes: this now is his darkest fantasy – the fantasy of his secret stories – brought to remarkable spectacular life.
As his eyes traverse the sparkling nylon so sensually sheathing Pansy’s perfect legs, he feels a sudden pressure against his anus, a pressure that betrays the gel-smeared tip of some form of hard rubber implement.
‘The anal plug symbolises control, submission and the reorientation of desire at the heart of the sissification process. You will learn to love its tender intrusion.’
Then the dark-skinned woman begins gently to ease the plug into his back passage. And as it slips very gradually inside him, his eyes remain glued to the wondrous form of Pansy. And as he gasps into the stained sweetly perfumed panties, he knows her presence directly before him is quite deliberate, that the association of this perverse plugging with a sexually attractive sissy she-male is the beginning of a process of indoctrination.
Initially, the insertion is relatively pain-free. Indeed, he is surprised that his previously virgin arsehole is so flexible! Yet, within a minute or so, he begins to feel a distinct discomfort as a very real resistance is encountered. In response, the dark-skinned woman pushes harder and then the true nature of the operation is made graphically apparent. Tears of genuine pain begin to flood his eyes. His face reddens. He moans into the fat gag. His blurred vision is still filled with the elegant sissy beauty and her own crystal-blue eyes are filled with a genuine concern.
‘Just a little further, then we’ll be past the worst of it,’ his dusky tormentor whispers, her voice filled with deep concentration.
Then there is a sudden electric pain. His eyes wide, he squeals girlishly into the unyielding panties. His lips stretch uselessly against the firm tight tape. Surely, he thinks, something has been torn; he is grievously injured. She has gone too far. But then there is an equally sudden give and the plug slips much deeper inside him, as if a barrier has been overcome and access is now total.
He feels terribly full, yet not too uncomfortable. Indeed, the teasing impact of the plug on the walls of his anal passage is quickly made apparent and very pleasant sensations begin to pass from between his buttocks and up into his imprisoned granite-hard cock.
He is then freed from the shackles and Pansy is once again at his feet, gently working free his imprisoned and fiercely aroused member. And as she does so, she allows a blood-red-nailed finger to linger, to run gently across the enraged taut rubber length of his over-stimulated organ.
He is helped to his feet and feels the plug slip even deeper into him. He moans into the gag, feels his sex rise up and its purple head bounce against his lower stomach. Then he looks down upon the kneeling form of Pansy and drinks deep of her profound she-male beauty. The wide short skirt of her beautiful pink dress had risen up as she kneels, exposing her hosed abused thighs through a mist of frou-frou petticoating. On top of this, her heavily frilled white silk panties are on full display. And as she kneels before him, he is struck by the powerful image of absolute and quite exquisite submission that she presents so naturally.
‘I think it’s only fitting that Pansy fit the restrainer,’ the dark-skinned woman says.
Pansy lowers her e
yes with a highly feminine and thus deeply attractive embarrassment and then slowly and very gracefully rises up from the rubber-matted floor. Peter watches this balletic display with sex-widened eyes and a deeply ambivalent fascination as she totters over to the metal table and takes what appears to be a slender pink rubber sheath from its gleaming silver surface. With a rather wicked smile on her gleaming pink lips, she then holds the sheath up before Peter’s fascinated eyes.
She then minces over to Peter and begins carefully to roll the sheath into a scooped bowl. He is reminded of the way his mother would roll up her stockings and tights before slipping them over her beautifully formed feet.
Then Pansy is directly before him, her powerful perfume tickling his nostrils, the frilled and wide edge of the skirt of the dress rubbing gently against the tip of his agonised sex. Once again she kneels down. The eyes of everyone are now glued upon her gorgeous sissy visage.
Then, very slowly – and with great care – she begins to slip the rubber sheath over poor Peter’s highly agitated member.
‘Until your transformation is complete, your sex will be kept in a state of permanent restraint,’ the dark-skinned woman explains. ‘The rubber sheath will allow expansion, but not the full erection required for orgasm. The head is micro-filtered to allow the removal of waste matter, but otherwise it will function as a second skin. And then, of course, there are the rings. To remind you of the evil of this particularly wayward piece of meat.’
Peter tries his very hardest to listen to the dark-skinned woman’s cruel words, but he is fighting a losing battle. He stares down at Pansy’s careful manipulations and squeals with a furious helpless pleasure. As she draws the rubber over the crimson length of his cock, he finds himself both appalled and excited in a way that he had never thought possible. Indeed, as his wiggles threaten to derail the fitting, his gorgeous black captor is forced to step forward and grip his arms firmly to help him remain still.
Silken Embrace Page 7