Company of Slaves

by Christina Shelly

  ‘I’m so happy to meet you.’

  Her voice was a splendid cross between a little girl and a movie sex goddess, helplessly high pitched, but also filled with a pure strain of erotic promise.

  Although she seemed happy in her glorious femininity, there was a familiar pain in her eyes – the pain of an uncontrollable and addictive desire, a pain whose source both Pansy and I knew well: Senso. Then it struck me: her dress, her gloves, her knickers, even her tights were made from different types of the Senso fabric. Indeed, I quickly got the impression that every item of clothing she wore was made from Senso.

  ‘They’re very impressive,’ Mistress Helen said, her deep, husky voice filled with sensual secrets and dark plans. ‘I’m sure they’ll fit in very well at the academy.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Aunt Jane purred, basking in the compliments, enjoying every second of this strange meeting.

  ‘We propose to keep them for three months,’ Lady Ashcroft said. ‘At the end of this period, we’re sure they will make excellent members of the Sissy Maids team, and we propose to employ their services as fully fledged maids and as actors for our website and the videos. This will mean they will work for us at least three days a week. However, as agreed, we intend to establish a branch of SMC here in the South West, to be run by yourself and Ms Hartley. I also understand that Mrs Henrietta Blunt, a local headmistress, has expressed an interest in participation.’

  Aunt Jane smiled. ‘Yes. I’m sure we can make a great success of SMC in Devon and Cornwall. And obviously, Pansy and Shelly are only the first. Mrs Blunt is already making a number of subtle inquiries amongst local mothers, wives and female guardians. And as knowledge of the service grows, so will the Bigger Picture.’

  ‘Yes,’ Lady Ashcroft said, nodding enthusiastically. ‘This is the way forward – sell SMC and then get the bigger message across.’

  Mistress Helen stepped towards me. I bobbed a brief, nervous curtsey and she smiled. ‘Chrissie, I think it’s time to get Shelly and Pansy ready to travel. Anne, if you could help, I’d be very grateful.

  Anne nodded. ‘Of course, Helen.’

  Christina picked up a large red silk travel bag, a gentle, but still-tormented smile on her face, and Ms Hartley led Mistress Anne, Christina, Pansy and myself into the dining room.

  ‘Strip down to your restrainers,’ Mistress Anne suddenly snapped, her words hard, the voice of an undisputed authority.

  And so under the amused eyes of the two women and the sex-teased gaze of Christina, we began to undress each other, our excitement, fear and anticipation mixed together in a heady brew of sweet, sticky masochism. And, as we wiggled out of our pretty sissy undies to reveal our silken, she-male forms, I noticed the look of clinical appraisal in Mistress Anne’s eyes and the addict’s need in Christina’s.

  ‘They have very trim figures. Well trained,’ Mistress Anne whispered to Ms Hartley.

  ‘Yes, we’ve strived to make them as slender and feminine as possible…in readiness for the operation.’

  I stared at Pansy. Our eyes communicated a sudden, harder, darker fear. The operation? These two words cut into our tormented sissy souls.

  When we were finally naked, we stood with our hands behind our backs, our cocks wrapped tightly in rubber and steel, our eyes downcast, our sissy hearts pumping fearfully.

  ‘Very nice,’ Mistress Anne added, a sensual smile lighting up her beautiful face. ‘Very nice indeed.’

  Christina then zipped open the silk bag and pulled out a number of lengths of pink rubber-coated cording. We knew we were about to be tightly tied, and the thought of being secured by Christina was enough to make us both squeal with pleasure.

  ‘Be quiet!’ Ms Hartley snapped.

  We immediately fell silent and Christina then proceeded to bind us as Ms Hartley and Mistress Anne chatted coolly about our strange sissy futures.

  ‘They will spend the first fortnight in nappies. An initial period of complete babification is at the core of all subsequent training. After this, for a month, we will concentrate on full sexual reorientation and the first stages of physical transformation. During this period the sissies also receive advanced domestic training and an introduction to the deeper philosophy of the Bigger Picture. They will be trained to regard themselves as the servants and playthings of women, and also as members of a third gender: Sissy. They will have all their remaining masculine traits removed by an intense and unyielding indoctrination, and at the end of the first six weeks, they will undergo the Operation. This will complete their formal transformation. They will then spend two weeks coming to terms with their new physiques, before being placed on a series of weeklong test attachments working as Sissy Maids. The final attachment will take the form of a formal examination. If they pass this, they will be returned to you fully qualified, ready to help develop the planned SMC branch in the West Country.’

  As this kinky future was set out, Christina expertly bound our arms and legs, using the cords to tether our ankles and knees, our wrists and elbows. We squirmed with masochistic delight as she tied us, her sweet rose perfume washing across our faces, her glorious Senso clothing brushing with a cruel indifference against our tormented, naked forms. Yet even in the act of binding us, she was gentle and graceful, turning the entire act into a beautiful ritual of perverse pleasure.

  And when we were finally tightly secured, our cocks rising up before us like rubber-coated spears carved from the essence of desire, Christina wiggle minced back to the bag. We watched her with sex-stunned eyes, marvelling at her grace and sensuality, at how every movement of her gorgeous she-male form was a grand glorification of ultra-femininity and her absolute submission to all womankind. She was the philosophy of the Bigger Picture personified, and we were both now so eager to follow in her high-heeled footsteps.

  From the bag she produced two pink rubber sacks, at first sight very similar to our kinky sleep sacks. As she brought them towards us, a dark smile lighting up her beautiful face, it became apparent that the bags had the same strange sheen that marked the infinitely flexible and erotic Senso material. Then I knew the fate that awaited us – total envelopment in Senso!

  ‘You will be parcelled for the journey ahead,’ Mistress Anne explained. ‘This will allow you more time to familiarise yourself with the pleasures of Senso and contemplate your true sissy fate.’

  Christina carefully placed each sack at the feet of one of the naked, quivering sissies. She knelt by me and slowly eased the mouth of the sack up over my slender feet and ankles. Then she slowly drew it up my silky, soft she-male form. I began moaning with a fierce, irresistible pleasure even before the sack had reached my knees. The material seemed to smother my legs in soft sissy kisses which sent a deeply erotic tingling running through my body. By the time she reached my upper thighs and straining, complaining, tightly rubberised cock and balls, my eyes were wild with desire and I was moaning desperately into the dummy gag.

  ‘Shhhh,’ Christina whispered, her own eyes coated in a gaze of furious arousal. ‘If you make too much noise, Mistress Anne will punish you here and now.’

  I nodded weakly and tried to control my reaction to this incredible, sensual entombment.

  Soon the bag had been pulled up around my chest. Then it was finally pulled into placed around my neck. This variety of Senso was like a highly erotic, mutant material that had the tough stretching capability of rubber and the second-skin sheerness of nylon. Every contour of my body was outlined through the Senso sack. I was suddenly a writhing pink sex being, primordial and helpless, a wiggling sissy sex snake.

  Yet this, of course, was not the end of my ordeal. For as I fought off moans of arousal and performed a helpless dance of ultra-sissy wriggles, Christina minced so very daintily back to the bag and took from inside two very large, pink rubber ball gags, each attached to straps of thick white leather that were covered in a delicate pattern of pink roses.

  She returned to my struggling form and placed one of the gags at my Senso-sealed feet. Sh
e then very carefully untied the dummy gag and pulled it from my mouth, a warm, sexy smile on her face, her soul-melting eyes burning into mine.

  She dropped the dummy gag on the floor and held the ball gag before me.

  ‘Open wide,’ she teased.

  I obeyed and the gag was forced into my mouth, a huge, wicked ball that stretched my mouth wide open, making even a sissy whimper of angry need utterly impossible. As I fought to accommodate the gag, she secured it very tightly in place with the two straps, buckling them together at the base of my neck.

  She then stood back and admired my cocooned, silenced form.

  ‘You look so sexy, Shelly,’ she purred and my eyes widened with a pleading need and a deep, dark attraction.

  She then blew me a tiny sissy kiss and proceeded to seal Pansy’s pretty form in the Senso, before replacing her own dummy gag with the second fat, painful ball gag.

  Once we were both secured, Ms Hartley left the room, returning a few minutes later with Aunt Jane, Miss Gillette and Lady Ashcroft.

  The women admired our new sissy bondage with cruel, aroused smiles.

  ‘It should take about four hours in total to get to the SMC academy,’ Lady Ashcroft said. ‘So prepare yourself for a long journey.’

  Our response was to wiggle with even more helplessly aroused vigour in our tight Senso bondage.

  ‘Believe it or not,’ Aunt Jane said, her gorgeous honey eyes drinking up my bound suffering, ‘you will reach a point of equilibrium with Senso. Although you will never be able to escape the deeply pleasurable sensations, you will be able to control them.’

  I looked at her and found myself wondering how I had reached this point. Then my eyes fell upon my aunt’s large, perfectly shaped bosom rising and falling beneath her tight sweater and her long, flawless legs wrapped in the sheerest of black nylon and I knew this was surely the most foolish of questions.

  It was then that Christina produced the matching pink Senso hoods and we were once more plunged into the strange grey zone between fear and desire.

  I was forced to watch as Christina slipped the first hood over Pansy’s head. The silly sissy began sobbing and squealing almost immediately and Christina was forced to administer a very sharp slap to her tightly wrapped backside to quieten her.

  The hood was both eyeless and mouthless. Indeed, the only sign of a flaw in its smooth, slender surface was a series of very tiny holes which were quickly revealed as an aid to breathing when the mask was finally stretched very tightly over Pansy’s pretty head, leaving her a faceless rubber doll whose only distinguishing features were her ringed and very large cock and the contour of the fat ball gag against her sensual sissy mouth.

  As Christina prepared the second hood I looked desperately over to Aunt Jane. She merely smiled at me indifferently and then turned to Miss Gillette.

  ‘Ms Hartley has asked if you would like to stay the night, Mary.’

  Miss Gillette smiled, almost shyly, then looked over at Ms Hartley with soft, sensual eyes and nodded. ‘Yes. That would be lovely.’

  Christina then blocked my view with her own very beautiful face. Thoughts of a deeply erotic lesbian threesome tormented my Senso-tortured mind as Christina proceeded to stretch the hood over the top of my head and pull it down over my face. The last thing I saw was Mistress Anne wheel a large porter’s trolley into the room. Then the hood covered my eyes and I was plunged into a world of dark pink shadows, a completely silenced world ruled by the teasing sensations of Senso.

  I whimpered with pathetic sissy fear into the gag and wiggled my backside helplessly. I was immobilised in a way I had never thought possible. Despite all the wicked and tormenting forms of bondage I had been subject to, none of them had been so absolute, and none had been so terribly exciting, as this. My skin was being smothered in a thick cream of tiny caresses, a million gentle teases amplified into the most appallingly sensual torment imaginable. I was soon crying into the fat gag, praying, begging, pleading for release, yet at the same time wallowing in my complete and utter helplessness. Very soon I began to loose sense of place and time, my mind swamped by the brutal power of an all pervasive sexual stimulation. I had been plunged into a soft, pink, fetish universe, a world of sex. And even as I lost complete control of my mind, I knew that this was quite deliberate: this elegant, kinky body packing was not about transport or perverse convenience; this was about the destruction of a will, the subjection of my very being to the authority of the gorgeous, determined women of SMC. Quite simply, they were using my body to brainwash me.

  I was vaguely aware of being lifted, of being placed on the trolley, of being wheeled from the house. A hand struck my tightly rubberised behind. I cried into the gag. Another hand. Three sharp spanking blows. A teasing goodbye from Aunt Jane, Ms Hartley and Lady Ashcroft.

  I was aware of being wheeled from the house, then of being loaded into a van or car. I squealed and wiggled, but was utterly helpless and unable to resist (much to my deep arousal!). Then I was strapped tightly in place – at my ankles, my knees, my waist and chest. Then there was nothing but the vague sensation of movement and the whirlpool of volcanic arousal. A deep, perhaps bottomless erotic dream that seemed – in my sex-addled mind – to go on forever.

  * * *

  By the time I was pulled from the means of transport that had carried us halfway across the country, I was hardly aware of my own name. The only reality was the savage desire that had filled the last few months and the heated, semi-shattered memories of the darkest and thus sexiest moments. Being between Lady Ashcroft’s legs, the slow expert milkings that had led me into this sweet, silken trap, suckling on Aunt Jane’s splendid, perfect breasts. The taste of Justine’s panties and her soaking cunt. The feel of Pansy’s large, hard cock in my hungry mouth. The teasing envelopments of Senso, the joys of feminine submission, the beauty and profound eroticism of my sissy attire.

  The journey lasted for how long? I have no idea. All I can remember are the torments of the sex void for a period of time that may have been minutes, hours or days. Then I was being placed on another trolley. Then a sudden sinking – a very definite indication of an elevator. Then there were hands working at my hood. I squealed into my fat ball gag as the Senso head covering was pulled up over my tightly stopped mouth and my nose. Then there was a most terrible, painful light, whiter than white, a blinding explosion of gleaming ice crystals.

  ‘Let your eyes adjust, Shelly. Take your time.’

  The sweet, sexy voice of Christina. As she had dressed me in this tormenting material, so now she was undressing me. And as my eyes slowly adjusted to this new, powerful white light, I began to behold the vision that had so spectacularly entered my consciousness back at Aunt Jane’s house. Still in the beautiful, sexy red costume, she appeared an even more beautiful image of she-male femininity than even my Senso-inspired dreams could conjure. Her smile radiated a deep, hard erotic need, as did her sex-teased gaze. Her cherry-red lips sparkled and even in this early, confused encounter I was overwhelmed by a terrible urge to lean forward and kiss her.

  She eased the hood from my sweat-soaked head and a new sound entered my head, the desperate, high-pitched squeals of Pansy. Pansy, who was standing only a few feet away from me, and who was being stripped by another member of SMC staff: a very tall, busty maid, in the classic black and white attire, her jet-black hair cut surprisingly short, with a dainty maid’s cap of silk and lace resting upon it; a servant I had viewed before, on the SMC website; a servant I knew to be a real woman, one of the few real females who served the wicked women of the Sissy Maids Company.

  ‘This is Kathy,’ Christina whispered, ‘one of the senior housemaids.’

  Kathy would have been nearly six feet tall without the three-inch stiletto-heeled mules that graced her feet, so she appeared a particularly striking and very beautiful figure, with very dark brown eyes powered by an almost reluctant sexual arousal, inspired no doubt by the gorgeous Senso fabric that so clearly made up virtually every item of her
highly erotic uniform.

  She was pulling the Senso body glove down over poor Pansy’s huge, tightly restrained sex, and the poor sissy was wiggling and squealing desperately. As the impressive cock popped out of the glove, Kathy giggled and looked over at Christina.

  ‘Yes, a particularly fine specimen,’ the lovely she-male teased, her own eyes filled with dark desire.

  Kathy completed the removal of the glove and untied her pretty, frightened charge. She then very gently led Pansy from the room. The room itself was basically a large, box-shaped space which acted as a reception area. There was no furniture – only a rubber carpet and bare white walls. On one side of the room was an archway which seemed to lead to a main hallway area. Pansy was led through a steel door directly opposite the arch, and I knew I would soon be following her.

  ‘Mistress Anne has already explained the schedule of your training,’ Christina continued. ‘But just to remind you, for the next two weeks you will be completely babified. In a minute I will take you to our special training nursery where you meet Miss Blakemore, the school matron. I have been selected as your mentor, and will be responsible to Miss Blakemore for this stage of your training. Kathy will act as Pansy’s mentor. I will also report to Mistress Helen on your progress. It has been decided that Mistress Helen will act as your Training Mistress. This means she has overall responsibility for your progress through the next three months. Mistress Anne will act as Pansy’s Training Mistress. After your complete induction, you will be given the status of a Junior Housemaid. This will last a further four weeks. Then, after the Operation, you will be given the status of Housemaid. At the end of your next phase of training, you will be examined. If you pass, you will be given the status of Senior Housemaid.’

  I looked at her with desire and fear. She smiled.

  ‘I can see you are wondering what will happen if you fail. Well, in theory you will be returned to the nursery for a further six weeks as punishment and then made to retake the examination. But no one has failed yet.’