Before poor Peter can consider the impact of the bonnet, which now holds his head in such a strange and highly erotic silken embrace, Pansy has taken the dummy gag and held it before him with a sudden and perhaps surprisingly sadistic glee. He stares at it and then stares at her. Then he stares at the dummy gag again. It is a long rather fat pink rubber teat fitted onto a heart-shaped pink plastic base. Attached to small slits in either side of the plate are thick long lengths of pink silk ribbon.
‘To stop your naughty sissy mouth and prepare it for certain similar-shaped objects,’ the cruel-eyed dark beauty teases, as Pansy whispers ‘Open wide, my sweet’, her voice pure silk-streaked honey.
He obeys almost helplessly, now enduring the full mind-bending impact of the Senso body stocking, and the teat is pushed home with cruel determination. He splutters a little as the fat teat presses against his tongue and the back of his throat. The plate pushes against his soft, always feminine lips and is tied firmly in place with the ribbons in another fat bow secured at the base of his bonneted neck.
And then the dressing is complete, and Peter is finally ready for his strange and ultra-kinky adventure in the sinister perverse vaults of the Sissy Maids Company.
‘Show Petal her new reflection,’ the dark-skinned woman orders Pansy.
The gorgeous sissy curtsies and then takes a stunned, furiously aroused Peter by the hand. She leads him slowly and carefully to the wardrobe. He totters forward on the high heels. This is the first time he has truly walked on them and the effect is immediate and startling. As his buttocks wiggle in their panty and hose prison with a helpless enthusiasm, as his hips sway, he feels the profound and quite irresistible power of this feminisation. As his long hard rubber- and silk-encased cock bounces up and down before him, he feels a savage sexual arousal and a sense of almost bottomless feminine submission. Thanks to Senso, he is already being consumed by the dark pleasures of sissidom. And the consumption is finally complete when he finds himself standing before a full-length mirror built into the open door of the wardrobe.
‘Say hello to Petal,’ Pansy whispers, her reflection set against his own, her smile broad and very deeply sexual.
Peter stares at the spectacle before him and feels a sense of instant attraction and strange, slightly disorienting distance. It is as if he is staring at a being he knows is, in some way, a vaguely familiar other.
He moans with an almost pained desire and knows he – or now, surely, she – is utterly doomed. And in this doom she finds a dreadful truth: the already long-developing desire for exactly this kind of transformation.
The dressing complete, the dark-skinned woman, her face alive with cruel passion, studies Peter very carefully.
‘They are obsessed with this idea of sissy innocence,’ she whispers. ‘They think they can turn men into beautiful little girls and make them love it.’ Her eyes appraise Peter with a very obvious desire.
Peter, confused by these obscure words, finds his eyes drawn once again to Pansy. The Senso fabric of his sweet ultra-feminine attire is driving him to absolute distraction. The world is alive with sexual potential. The Erotic is a chemical in the air forcing every breath to inspire thoughts of insane sexual adventure. He looks into Pansy’s big blue eyes and feels a wave of furious need crash over his delicately recreated form. And she – this gorgeous buxom tortured sissy beauty – returns his gaze with a frankness that makes his heart skip a beat. Their mutual need is clear and quite overwhelming.
‘Take him to your room,’ the dark-skinned woman then snaps. ‘Helen has made it clear that Petal will replace Shelly. She is your room mate and charge until such time as we decide otherwise. I suggest you begin with some bondage therapy, as you are needed back in the main house to serve lunch by midday.’
Shelly curtsies her eager understanding and then takes Peter – now surely Petal – by the hand. She leads him – now surely her – from the room with a reassuring and deeply sexual smile. Petal’s eyes fall upon her long white nylon-sheathed legs and she feels her sex burn desperately hard within the teasing and – thanks to the cock rings – painful restrainer.
As she totters rather precariously on the teasingly high-heeled shoes, still struggling with a dark helpless pleasure to come to terms with the uniquely feminine balance that is required to maintain an upright position, she feels the amazing constantly arousing vibrator inch deeper into her arse and moans with a fierce arousal. Thanks to the vibrator, the Senso and the beautiful wish fulfilment at the heart of her feminisation, Petal is completely and delightfully overwhelmed.
‘The first time, it can be quite a shock,’ Pansy says, her voice pure sissy honey. ‘Indeed, it can be quite a shock for rather a long time! The genius is the pleasure, the purest pleasure imaginable. One hundred per cent sex! There’s nothing you can do but give in, to surrender to the mistresses and their vision. And the more you surrender, the greater your submission, the more the pleasure!’
Petal looks at Pansy and sees an object of unbearable sexual beauty. He sees a flaming erotic toy burning bright in a world of unending desire that can never be fulfilled except through the glorious death orgasm destruction of the universe.
They come to another featureless white door with a silver number 6 pinned to it. Pansy leans forward and presses a red button next to the door and it slides open.
She then leads the aroused, astonished and confused sissy Petal into the room they will share.
The room is perhaps surprisingly large. Like the dressing room, it is oval, but the curving walls are less severe and the colours much softer. The walls are pink, the carpet a creamy white. A curving built-in closet traverses one whole side of the wall. In the centre of the room is a large double bed draped in shimmering white silk sheets. There is a bedside table and against the opposite wall a very beautiful dressing table with a large gold-framed oval mirror. Beneath the dressing table is a small pink leather-backed stool.
Besides these elegant and beautiful furnishings, the room is surprisingly empty. Indeed, there is a minimalist design ethos that betrays Pansy’s status as a slave, yet, at the same time, stresses her exotic reality as a she-male beauty.
Petal totters behind this stunning creation of the Bigger Picture, still tormented by the furious sexual arousal imparted by her first feminisation. She looks around her with surprise and angry arousal. She feels her cock fight the inescapable and cruel rings and moans helplessly into the dummy gag.
‘You’d better sit down before you fall down. I’ve forgotten what an impact the first changing can have.’
She helps a dazed Petal to the bed. The new she-male lowers her spectacularly pantied bottom onto the silk sheets and feels the endlessly teasing vibrator push deeper into her stretching, softening anus. Her eyes widen with a shocked, almost despairing desire. This is far too much of a good thing!
‘After the first dressing, most sissies have to be secured for their own good. I think you need some tight bondage before you go off bang. Then I can get ready for lunch.’
Petal’s eyes widen with a sudden dark concern. Pansy notices the sissy’s fear and smiles reassuringly.
‘There’s nothing to be frightened of,’ she whispers, slipping elegantly onto her knees and then placing her hands on Petal’s nylon-sheathed knees. ‘Bondage is part of us. To be secured, to be restricted, to be utterly helpless. This is the essence of our wonderful submission. Be honest, didn’t you secretly love it when Christina tied you up? She told me you were hard all the time. And that’s perfectly natural for a true sissy. And the evaluation reports showed you to be the strongest possibility for feminisation by far.’
Petal nods slowly, unable to speak, but her pretty eyes say all that needs to be said.
‘Of course you were!’ Pansy exclaims. ‘And this is only the beginning, my love. The beginning of your new life of total glorious pleasure. You will come to understand that your submission to the vision of the Bigger Picture is in fact the ultimate freedom. And in your bondage, you will find no g
reater articulation of this simple truth.’
Pansy leans forward slightly then, and her hands slip beneath the soft mist of Petal’s sexy petticoats. Petal gasps into the gag and finds herself widening her hosed feminine legs to allow Pansy better access.
‘We’re going to be such good friends,’ she whispers, rubbing the tip of her right forefinger against the hard silk-, nylon- and rubber-imprisoned length of Petal’s sex.
Then, with a shocking quickness, she removes her hands and stands up. Self-contained, calm and very beautiful, she then leans forward and places a soft wet kiss on Petal’s forehead, her hot-pink lipstick leaving a pink lip tattoo, a mark of ownership.
‘Now let’s get you ready, so that I can get ready.’
From a drawer in the bedside table she takes a number of lengths of the pink rubber-coated cording that appears to be the standard binding material in this bizarre academy of continual sissy bondage. She places the cording on the bed next to Petal, takes up one length and then she is again leaning before the wide-eyed sex-tormented novice shemale.
She uses the cording to bind Petal’s slender ankles together with a surprisingly determined tightness. Petal is immediately reminded of her binding by the she-male called Christina, but this bondage is delivered with a far more erotic intent. Indeed, as the final knot is tied, Pansy spends a few blissful seconds delicately stroking the tethered nyloned skin, and her eyes betray a fetish trance and a savage desire.
‘Aren’t tights just so delicious!’ she suddenly exclaims, her voice little-girlish yet filled with sex tease.
Poor Petal can only whimper and nod weakly as Pansy then proceeds to bind her knees with yet more cording, forcing her thighs tightly together and thus edging the tormenting and furiously erotic vibrator even deeper into her well-tested arse.
Pansy then stands and shifts position so that she is sitting on the bed in the opposite direction to Petal. She uses more cording to bind the sissy’s wrists very tightly behind her back and then her elbows, a particularly painful intervention that leaves Petal aroused yet also in some discomfort.
Satisfied that her charge is bound properly, she then takes Pansy by the ankles and pulls her legs up onto the bed. She then very gently turns the gorgeous delicately scented and petticoated novice over onto her stomach. Petal gasps with sissy fear and Pansy soothes her with a teasing whispered ‘hush now, sweetness’.
Then the final cord is used to secure a severe and utterly unforgiving hog-tie that leaves poor Petal face down on the bed, her wrists tied to her ankles, the testing heels of her shoes pressing painfully into the palms of her hands.
With her face pointed forward, she can see Pansy standing maybe six feet from the bed examining her kinky handiwork.
‘Perfect,’ she whispers. ‘Absolutely perfect.’
It is then that Pansy begins to undress and Petal is subjected to a truly cosmic teasing. Indeed, the poor she-male is, thanks to her ingenious and beautifully cruel bondage, unable to do anything else.
Pansy clearly knows she has a particularly captive audience and spends the next few minutes torturing the writhing and squealing novice with a truly devastating striptease. She slips out of her pinafore and then the spectacular pink baby maid’s dress with a series of truly balletic and erotic wiggles that leaves Petal wide-eyed and angrily frustrated.
Beneath the dress, she reveals an elegant white basque that contains her carefully designed sex bomb figure with an almost unbearable precision. Her large beautifully formed breasts strain desperately against the basque’s reinforced bra section and poor Petal’s eyes nearly pop out of her head as Pansy proceeds to work free the clips that run down her spine and then wiggle the basque over her bosom and down over her hips. Her breasts are exposed via one strong but still rather petite tug, and Petal lets out a squeal of true astonishment.
Pansy laughs and flaunts her amazing perfect tits, taking the greatest of pride in their perfection and in the impact they have on the tethered sissy who will soon be her friend and lover.
Petal has never seen such wondrous orbs and struggles angrily in her intimate expert bondage, both wishing desperately to be free and loving every constricted second of this sweet kinky imprisonment.
After the basque has fallen to her ankles, Pansy is left in only her tights, her high-heeled boots and a pair of heavily be-frilled white silk panties. Petal’s eyes widen even further as they travel down from her incredible breasts to the outline of her hard, long and obviously carefully controlled cock.
Noticing this new interest, Pansy slowly wiggles out of the panties to reveal a pink rubber-imprisoned cock through the film of stretched white nylon that is the front plate of the ultra-sheer tights.
She steps out of the knickers and then turns away from Pansy’s direct line of vision. She then bends down to untie her ankle boots, ensuring that Petal has a full and astonishing view of the exquisite and flawless orbs of her backside.
She kicks the boots off and stands back up. Then she pulls the tights down her long perfectly feminine legs, draws them over her feet and then throws them, with a sharp girlish gesture, onto the floor. She then turns back to Petal and inspires a further chorus of loud desperate deeply frustrated and extremely well-gagged squeals. Yes: this is the perfect vision of the Bigger Picture, the submissive she-male beauty in all her stunning sissy glory.
Pansy lets poor Petal feast her eyes on the splendour of her form for a few minutes and then, much to Petal’s angry well-muffled outrage, goes to the en suite bathroom to take a much-needed scented shower. Afterwards, she spends another dreadfully teasing half-hour preparing her makeup at the dressing table and then dressing in her formal serving attire: a black satin dress with white silk pinafore, sheer black nylon tights and five-inch-heeled black patent leather court shoes, her underwear a black basque almost exactly the same as the white one that had so aroused the lovely dazed and desperate Petal.
Then, fully dressed and made up, she totters over to the struggling tormented and very sexy form of Petal and places a strawberry kiss tattoo on her left and right cheeks to complement the one still gleaming on her forehead.
‘I’ll be back later,’ she whispers. ‘Then we can really begin to get to know each other.’
Poor Petal shakes her head furiously, desperate for Pansy to stay and release her from this utterly inescapable and deeply perverse bondage. Her body is on fire with the sex heat, her mind bathed in a bottomless film of agonising need. She squeals and wiggles, feels the restrainer bite into her and the vibrator burn deeper. Overwhelmed by Senso and her own natural desires, teased to exploding point by Pansy’s great beauty, she demands an impossible release.
And then Pansy is gone and she is unbearably alone, left with only her memories of the incredible striptease and the darker, even more powerful fantasies that had been partly responsible for her enslavement.
She is in agony. She is in ecstasy. The two merge and explode into a blinding white light of helpless acceptance of her sissy fate.
5
They are in Mistress Helen’s elegant plush quarters. Christina, now clad in her most beautiful and erotic black maid’s costume, is serving lunch to the leader of the Radical faction and the gorgeous Ms Blakemore.
They eat cold meats and salad vegetables and drink Chablis from tall glistening glasses. Christina beholds their grace and great beauty with the awe of a priestess before two revered goddesses. And every now and again, Ms Blakemore stares up at the lovely eager she-male and smiles gently, a look of teasing sexual promise in her large dark-brown eyes.
‘I don’t think I’m being over-cautious, Helen. We have to think about . . . well, the bigger picture.’
Helen smiles tightly and takes a large bite out of a slice of smoked ham.
‘That’s what I’m doing. I’m acting now to save the future. If we hesitate – at this crucial point – then we surrender everything. We have a brief and fundamental opportunity that has been provided by a betrayal. Yes, of course, we must track down
Jane and the sissy Shelly. And they must be punished. But we must also move to embrace the full Radical position as quickly as possible, to make it impossible for them to drag us back to the state of surrender that is at the heart of their sex compromise.’
Ms Blakemore – a vision of buxom perfection in her tight white uniform, matching tights and high-heeled mules, her long legs crossed, the relatively short skirt of her uniform resting teasingly on her lower thighs – beholds Mistress Helen with a look of pity. She shakes her head wearily and then smiles, defeated. A warm smile then trickles across her full red lips.
‘I didn’t come hear to talk about your plans for the future, Helen. You know that.’
Helen takes a white napkin from the table and slowly wipes her own cherry-coloured lips, slowly, carefully, sensually.
‘Really?’
‘You looked so terribly stressed. The pressure must be awful. You need to relax a little.’
‘Is that your professional medical opinion?’
‘Yes.’
‘And what do you prescribe as a cure?’
‘Love.’
There is an electric silence then. Christina sees the sex charge pass between them and feels her cruelly restrained sex stir desperately.
Ms Blakemore rises from the table and walks up to Mistress Helen. She holds out an elegant light-brown hand.
Mistress Helen smiles with a rather surprising shyness and takes the outstretched hand. She allows herself to be led from the table, across the room and through the door that leads to her bedroom. Ms Blakemore subtly gestures for Christina to follow.
Once in the bedroom, Ms Blakemore guides the strangely enraptured Mistress Helen to the large double bed placed in its exact white-carpeted centre and sits her down on its cream-coloured silk sheets.
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