I watched, stunned and utterly defeated, as the blonde gently lifted the wig from the stand and brought it over towards my tormented, increasingly sissified form. I looked at the wig and then at the blonde, at this tall, gorgeous creature with her long, black hosed legs and firm, generous bosom. She was truly beautiful and, as her wicked gaze betrayed, utterly unforgiving.
'The wig is fitted to the head by means of special adhesive fastenings sown into its silk lined underside. It will rest very comfortably and firmly on the head. It cannot be removed by the sissy, as a special loosening cream is required to release the stronger adhesive strips fixed to the sides. Obviously, you can choose any wig you see fit for her, but for now we will begin with the classic sissy training model.'
The wig was carefully pulled into position over my head. Then I saw just how effective and permanent this transformation would be. Suddenly, the showroom dummy became a very pretty doll. I looked at my reflection in amazement. Even with the mutilating gag, I appeared strikingly feminine.
'My my,' Ms Stroheim whispered.
'He's so…'
My stepmother's words trailed off into a realm of dark speculation. Even she was shocked by the initial results of this forced and deeply perverse changing.
As soon as the wig was in place, the redhead opened a drawer built into the side of the dressing table and extracted a pair of very sheer, pink nylon stockings. As I looked at them, I felt my sex press harder against its tight rubber prison. Memories of erotic investigations into my stepmother's underwear drawers came flooding back as the redhead knelt before me. The feel of her hose, the sheer, soft sensations of tights and stockings, the scents, the illicit thrill of an intense and inescapable fetishism. All these terribly arousing thoughts filled my mind.
The redhead placed the stockings on the tiled floor and then made me stretch out my waxen left leg, with my toes pointed forward in a distinctly feminine manner. The fact that I obeyed her without a moment's hesitation betrayed very clearly my secret longing for some form of envelopment in soft nylon. When I shakily caressed my step-mother's tights, I had always pondered putting them on. But fear and circumstance had always gotten the better of me. Now, however, I had no choice, and my excitement was, despite my wider predicament, very apparent.
'You were right about his tendencies,' Ms Stroheim said, addressing my fascinated mother. 'This will make things much easier.'
The first stocking was drawn up my denuded, painted leg and I suddenly fell into a whirlpool of intense physical pleasure. The soft kiss of very sheer nylon against highly sensitised skin is a truly overwhelming pleasure. Everything that had passed was forgotten and I found myself squealing with a powerful animal arousal, squeals that were turned to meows of sissy ecstasy by the fat sponge gag.
The stocking was pulled tightly into place at the top of my creamy left thigh and then held there by the addition of a pink lace frilled garter. The redhead, closely watched by the other women, then helped me into the second stocking and secured it with another exactly matching garter.
Tears of helpless arousal trickled from my eyes and I found myself looking over at my stepmother with an intense longing. She met my desperate gaze and smiled.
'He's already completely hooked,' she whispered.
Ms Stroheim smiled. 'As you predicted. The sex drug will be a particularly powerful means of ensuring her complete feminisation and submission. Her natural fetishistic inclinations will help us destroy all traces of the male personality.'
After the stockings, my feet were slipped into a pair of pink satin, adult-sized baby booties, which the blonde had extracted, together with some other odd looking items of clothing, from the closet. The fitting of the booties, again by the smiling, buxom redhead, brought me out of my fetishistic revelry. Once more I was aware of the true nature of my feminisation. The words sissy and baby rang in my head and a sense of terrible humiliation returned.
The large, tight booties were secured with soft pink satin ribbons in fat sissy bows. Then the blonde began work on my hands. First, two lengths of thick pink rubber were produced. They were essentially longer and broader versions of the sheaths imprisoning my desperate cock. These were quickly pulled tightly over my hands, thus totally immobilising my fingers.
'We deny use of the hands during all stages of training. The sissy must be completely reliant on his carers. This increases control and the sense of utter helplessness that is vital to ensuring a properly trained baby maid.'
As Ms Stroheim explained this latest terrible development, the blonde revealed a pair of stunning pink silk mittens that matched exactly the colour and texture of the booties. These were stretched over the rubberised stumps that were now my hands and pulled tightly in place. And no sooner were they positioned, than the redhead stepped before me armed with a pair of incredible, very heavily frilled white silk briefs. The white lace frilling ran in hoops around the panties, which, despite being made of silk, were very heavily padded.
I was made to stand upright and then step into the panties. The redhead quickly pulled them up my legs and positioned them around my very tightly restrained waist. They brought a sense of devastating ultra-femininity and also stressed the feminine curves the padding of the body shaper created around my hips and backside.
Then there was a moment I would remember for a very long time: the unveiling of the dummy gag. Of all the tools of sissy control that I would be subject to over the coming months, it was this one which, for me, would come to symbolise perfectly my terrible fate.
The dummy gag was taken from a silver metal case by Ms Stroheim herself and held before me with terrifying conviction.
'Remove the sponge gag,' she ordered.
The blonde obeyed, hauling the gag from my mouth in one rough tug. I coughed and spluttered, my long tormented mouth suddenly free of the sound stopping material. But no sooner was I gasping my relief than Ms Stroheim ordered me to open wide.
The dummy gag: essentially a very fat, skin coloured teat fixed to a plastic base shaped in the form of a heart. Yet this was only the surface truth of its diabolical function.
The large, phallic-shaped teat was then shoved deep into my mouth and the plastic plate was pressed firmly against my lips. I felt it stick firmly via some hidden adhesive material, thus holding the dummy in place and sealing my pink-painted lips around its fat, cock-like width.
Yet this was only the beginning of its kinky facilities. For no sooner was the teat lodged deep inside my mouth than, to my surprise and dismay, it began to expand.
'Chemically enhanced rubber,' Ms Stroheim enlightened. 'The teat will expand to fill the full shape of the mouth. It is designed to expand when in contact with any liquid, including human salvia. Thus it creates an even more effective gag than the sponge and also prevents constriction of throat muscles when the recycling process begins.'
And it did indeed fill my mouth completely. Within a few terrible seconds, it was if a block of soft liquid rubber had occupied every millimetre of my mouth. My tongue was completely flattened and my pink rouged cheeks bulged. Not a squeak could escape from my mouth. I was completely silenced and would remain so for at least the next 30 days.
As soon as they were satisfied the gag was properly positioned, the redhead and the blonde continued their kinky preparations. The blonde returned to the closet. The redhead returned to the drawer beneath the dressing table. In a few seconds, the blonde re-merged from the closet carrying a dress, a most spectacular, breathtaking dress that caused my eyes to widen even further in amazement and my beautiful, voluptuous stepmother to gasp with surprise.
The dress was made from pink satin. Its long sleeves and shoulders were elegantly puffed and thick white lacing trimmed each wide sleeve. The very short skirt was fitted with many layers of delicate white and pink shaded organza petticoating and a series of white pearl buttons ran the length of its curved back. There was also a very high neck, around the top of which ran another layer of expensive French lace. The bodice area was cov
ered in a pattern of pink silk roses.
'How lovely,' my stepmother whispered
'Yes,' Ms Stroheim replied. 'We spend a lot of time on the detail of the sissy attire. Again, a very crucial element in ensuring total submission and control.'
And as the blonde opened out the dress and ordered me to put my arms up above my head, the redhead extracted a thick white leather collar, attached to the front of which was a large silver hook.
Everything was happening very quickly now. As the blonde lowered the amazing dress over my arms and they slipped helplessly into the long, so erotically soft sleeves, I felt a sudden throbbing begin deep in my backside. My first response was fear, but the throbbing was far from unpleasant, and soon I began to appreciate that it was in fact very pleasant! My eyes turned to my mother and I moaned with a helpless, powerful desire. Before my head was covered by the gorgeous, soul imprisoning dress, I saw she was holding a small oblong silver box, in the centre of which was a red dial.
'The key tool of control,' Ms Stroheim explained, as I was plunged into a world of sensual soft pink. 'The vibrator remote.'
As my head emerged through the long, lace be-frilled neck of the dress, I saw my stepmother finger the vibrator in a slow, distracted and very sensual manner. She then turned the dial a little further to the right and the teasing, deeply arousing vibration increased. I moaned a totally silenced moan, my widened, sex teased eyes the only indication of the pleasure she was giving me.
'You can see the immediate impact,' Ms Stroheim continued.
My stepmother's smile widened and her beautiful honey brown eyes met mine in a gaze of intense promise.
My erection fought the tight, all powerful restrainer and I felt a sense of absolute surrender to this gorgeous, powerful woman. Whatever bizarre and permanent punishment was about to be visited on me, I knew I would always be her property and her devoted slave. Feelings of overwhelming and deeply satisfying surrender washed over me, feelings which increased as the blonde pulled the magnificent dress into place over my feminised form.
The dress fit perfectly. Its soft fabric disguised a second skin tightness that accentuated perfectly the busty, ultra-feminine form imparted by the body shaper.
As the blonde used the row of white pearl buttons that ran up the spine of the dress to complete its fitting, the redhead set to work with the thick, white leather collar. Standing to my right side, she pulled the collar around my satin encased neck and then buckled it tightly into position, pushing the lace edging that surrounded the neck of the dress even deeper into my white marble chin.
Then the dress was fitted and the collar was tightly in place. The blonde and the redhead stepped back and the women beheld their divinely kinky creation.
'Quite excellent,' Ms Stroheim whispered. 'One of the best yet.'
'He's…beautiful,' my stepmother said, her eyes continuing to betray the high level of sexual arousal my erotic transformation was inspiring.
'No longer a he,' Ms Stroheim replied. 'Now, he is most surely a she, a she forever.'
My mother nodded and handed the controller to Ms Stroheim. 'Holly,' she then muttered.
'Yes, a lovely name – Baby Holly.'
I looked at my stepmother and instantly remembered the name she had wanted to give the baby daughter she planned to have with my father. The baby that had never been because of his terrible and ultimately terminal illness.
'Now,' Ms Stroheim continued, 'for the final touches.'
The girls smiled and stepped forward once again. I looked at them with fearful, yet also helplessly excited eyes. I looked at them and felt my initial fear fade. These beautiful creatures, with their wicked smiles and knowing gazes, were the agents of a truly amazing and deeply perverse changing; yet as the vibrator teased the ultra-sensitive walls of my anus and my cock stretched so very desperately against the soft but inescapable restriction of the restrainer, my own feelings were now of helpless sexual arousal.
The blonde returned to the closet, while the redhead stepped up close to my elegantly sissified form. In her right hand she held a length of the clear rubber tubing that seemed so vital to this strange transformation. She then very gently opened a very small, Velcro-sealed flap positioned just beneath my artificial breasts. She slipped her hand inside and pulled through the length of tubing that travelled up the front the body shaper to below the bra area. She connected this to the new length of tubing and then did something that renewed my fear: she moved much closer to me, so close that her real and very ample breasts pressed against my artificial ones, and then began to remove the curved front piece of the plate that held the extraordinary dummy gag in place. It was only then that I realised the remaining end of the tubing had a screw cap that allowed it be "docked" neatly into the front of the dummy gag!
As the redhead stepped back to inspect her handy work, a sense of true and awful dread washed over my sissified body.
Yet no sooner had the tube connection been made, than the blonde returned from the closet armed with a pink hat box. She placed this at my bootied feet and removed the lid. From inside she extracted a large, elaborate and utterly stunning pink satin baby's bonnet, a piece of fetishised Victoriana that outstripped even the spectacular dress in terms of outrageous ultra-femininity.
A concoction of pink silk and satin layers, with silk side panels attached to which were thick pink silk ribbons. A monstrous excess of wicked babification. A device that did indeed add the final touch to my erotic imprisonment in baby frillies!
The blonde pulled open the two thick side flaps and then carefully lowered the bonnet over the elaborate wig of sissy ringlets. Our eyes met and I saw a terrible sadistic pleasure which filled me with fear and a dark, powerful and deeply masochistic desire.
She pulled the flaps down the sides of my white dyed cheeks and then tied the bonnet tightly in place with the silk ribbons that hung from each side. The ribbons were tied together in an expert and very fat bow resting just beneath my chin.
'Superb,' Ms Stroheim exclaimed. 'Utterly superb.'
My stepmother's smile was now a blinding beam of cruel pleasure. I looked at her and felt an utter humiliation and a terrible desire. My eyes drank up her long, black hosed legs and her full, heaving bosom. I wanted her now more than ever. I remembered her words, her promise to make all my dreams come true if I obeyed her; I remembered the look in her large, intensely sensual eyes as she turned the dial on the vibrator controller. Then I felt the tremendously pleasurable vibrations coursing through my arse and I knew there was no turning back from this kinky sissy fate.
'Now attach the mobile Recycler.'
Ms Stroheim's harsh, heartless words dragged me from the drug of my so effectively and absolutely controlled sexual need. I knew the Recycler held a dark and terrible secret that was the key to my transformation. I had pondered the web of tubing and connections and felt a real fear, a fear that cut through the thick wall of desire like a hot knife through soft butter.
It was the redhead who took the strange, transparent plastic cylinder from the drawer beneath the dressing table. It was the size of a four-pint milk bottle. A shallow layer of white liquid rested inside it. Fixed within the top of its cylindrical shape was a short length of the same tubing that now criss-crossed my sissified body.
The blonde then produced what appeared to be a pink leather handbag, whose strange rectangular length more or less matched that of the cylinder. The pink leather strap of the handbag was passed over my neck so that the strap ran diagonally across my body and the bag itself rested on top of the right side of the short, fluffed-out skirt of the dress. The bag was then unclipped and the red head very carefully inserted the cylinder inside it, a perfect and disturbing fit. Then, the tubing on the top of the cylinder was pulled through small hole in the bag. Another very small, Velcro-sealed hole in the side of the dress was revealed. The tubing was then gently connected to a slot built into the side of the longer tubing that circumnavigated the body shaper. This connected the bagged cylinder
to the bizarre network of tubing that now trapped my sissified form in a most peculiar and mysterious web.
'Bind her,' Ms Stroheim ordered.
I stared at my lovely stepmother with renewed concern. She smiled gently, even maternally; trying to reassure me there was nothing to worry about. Suddenly there was a loud, humiliating gurgle from my stretched, full bowel and I blushed, a blush unseen thanks to the thick, semi-permanent dye covering my face.
The blonde used thick silk ribbons to bind my mittened wrists tightly behind my back. She then used a second ribbon to secure my elbows in a very painful manner that left them virtually touching. I cried out in pain and protest, but not even the tinniest squeak of descent escape my expertly stopped mouth.
And once my arms were secured, the red head proceeded to attach pink rubber shackles to my bootied ankles, shackles held only six inches or so apart by a further length of pink silk ribbon, thus creating a very effectively and balance-challenging hobble!
Finally, it seemed I was ready. I felt both frightened and aroused. The layers of feminine attire were uncomfortably hot and I was sweating heavily. But this just added to my fiendish feminisation, for the more I sweated the more powerful the sweet stench of summer roses became.
'Bring out the mobile mirror and let Holly get a good look at herself and her future.'
The blonde smiled at Ms Stroheim's command and minced off to the closet, returning a few seconds later with a large, full-size mirror on a metal, wheeled base.
The mirror was pushed directly before and, for the first time I saw the true and terrible nature of my complete and permanent transformation.
Before me was a living doll, an elaborately constructed homage to ultra-femininity. Initially, I was sure this wasn't actually a reflection, but some clever projection; for Holly looked very little like the male I had been, and what with the fat dummy gag, the bonnet, the body dye and the spectacular dress, the creature before me appeared a complete and bizarre stranger!
Silken Tales Page 20