Christina untied my legs and arms and carefully helped me step out of the body glove. To my amazement, she then took a very tight grip on my straining, rock-hard sex and led me towards the steel door. I squealed with a painful pleasure into the fat ball gag and wiggle minced forwards, my eyes eating up this stunning she-male beauty who would be my sexy guide through this strange, ultra-kinky indoctrination.
Beyond the steel door was a long, brightly lit corridor. On each side of the corridor was an evenly spaced row of pink wooden doors, each of which was protected by a digital lock. As Christina led me forwards by my straining, aching sex, I fought to make out the rectangular signs on each of the doors. Strange words flashed past my wide, tormented eyes: Baby Storage; Nurse Supplies; Discipline; Nursery 1; Nursery 2; Matron’s Office.
I was pulled to a halt by a door marked ‘Induction’. Christina gently tapped a code into the digital lock and the door opened. I was then led into a very large room and gasped in amazement into the fat ball gag. For before me was a chamber of sissy transformation that indicated the true, impressive scale of the SMC project. The room itself was a perfect white oval, with a pink rubber-matted floor. Around the walls were rows of gleaming metal cupboards, wardrobes and shelves. In the centre of the room was an object that resembled a large pink leather-backed gym horse. Attached to the rectangular horse were a number of white leather straps. Positioned by each side of the horse was a tall metal frame, hanging from which was a large transparent rubber bag that appeared to be filled with a thick white liquid. Running from each bag was a thin white rubber tube that ended in a coil on the floor by the horse. Beneath the horse was a wide circular drain covered in a latticed metal plate.
Built between one of the winding rows of metal cupboards was a large, enclosed shower stall and standing beside it was Kathy. Inside the stall was poor Pansy, her body covered from neck to toes in a strange pink cream, tears of discomfort pouring from her eyes, squeals of fear and pain fighting to escape the ball gag.
Kathy smiled at Christina as the gorgeous she-male led me towards the shower.
‘Nearly done,’ the statuesque maidservant whispered, her tone filled with sexual arousal.
Then she pressed a small plastic button built into the side of the shower cubicle and water exploded from the overhead shower unit and over Pansy’s tormented, pretty body.
‘The cream is a powerful and permanent hair remover,’ Christina explained, taking a pair of white rubber gloves from a table by the shower cubicle and slipping them over her small, elegant hands. ‘After it has been applied and removed, you will never have to shave again.’
Pansy bounced and squealed under the jet of obviously very cold water.
The poor sissy was made to stand under this downpour for nearly ten minutes, a period during which I was subject to the grim torment of the denuding cream.
As Pansy struggled, Christina took a long, thick tube from the table and then ordered me to stand to attention, my hands behind my back. I obeyed instantly, despite my fear, and she then spread a line of the strange pink gel across my chest before beginning to massage it into my torso with her gloved hands.
She was so very gentle and careful, caressing rather than rubbing, her eyes pinned to mine. I purred with pleasure and felt the tip of my rubber-sealed cock touch the edge of her short, sexy skirt. Yet my pleasure was short-lived, for as she spread the cream across my body, I became aware of a strange, intense and very itchy heat building up in those areas where the dark pink goo was already established. As she spread the cream around my deeply agitated sex and then very teasingly across my buttocks, the heat increased and I found myself wiggling helplessly in a futile attempt to relieve its dreadful impact.
‘There will be considerable discomfort for a while, Shelly. So just try and control yourself.’
Her words were easily said. Soon, she had covered me from my neck to the tips of my toes in the cream, and my whole body felt as if it were on fire!
Pansy’s struggles had ceased. The powerful jet of water had washed every inch of the cream suit from her tormented skin, and now Kathy was leading her from the shower cubicle, her whole, lovely body glowing a strange pink, and instead of pain in her eyes there was now an undeniable sheen of sexual arousal.
As tears of discomfort filled my eyes and I squealed helplessly into my gag, the lovely Christina gently led me into the shower cubicle. I stood on a wet, hard plastic surface and wiggled furiously, my eyes wide with a terrible sissy pleading that clearly excited my she-male guide.
The cubicle door was slid shut and I was left for another few minutes to suffer, Christina watching my discomfort with surprisingly sadistic eyes. Then, with the slightest of teasing smiles, she pressed the small plastic button and a powerful sheet of freezing cold water crashed across my cream-covered form.
The shock was immediate and quite terrible. An even higher-pitched squeal exploded from behind the gag and I performed a dance of sissy discomfort that left Christina laughing loudly and cruelly. Yet, after the initial ordeal, there was only one feeling: profound relief. As the cream was washed from my form by the icy water, the terrible heat began to retreat and then, finally, to disappear. And then, after a few very wet minutes, the harsh flow of water ceased and I found myself cleaned from head to toe and in the grip of a new, very different sensation. As Christina helped me from the cubicle, a much softer, delicate warmth was spreading across my body, a warmth very similar to the sexual heat that always followed a spanking.
I looked down at my body and whimpered with surprise and a helpless pleasure. I was hot pink from neck to toe! And my skin felt as if it were being covered in a million tiny kisses, a sensation very close to the exquisite torment of Senso.
‘Your skin will be very sensitive for a few days,’ Christina explained. ‘This is really the most fun part of your indoctrination, as the interaction between your body and the Senso fabric will be at its most extreme and also its most delightful. Mistress Helen returns most of us here for a resensitisation at least once a month. We’re all so very lucky!’
Christina used a large, fluffy pink towel to dry my body. I squirmed with a deep, dark pleasure as the soft material of the towel caressed my newly sensitised sissy form. My eyes met Christina’s and I moaned with need.
‘Don’t worry, Shelly,’ she whispered. ‘We’ll soon be together, and I promise you a pleasure beyond anything you’ve ever experienced.’
Dried and furiously aroused, my mind spinning with thoughts of this gorgeous, kinky she-male, I was led to the centre of the room. Here, Kathy had already set about preparing Pansy, and when I saw the fate that awaited me, I let out a whimper of fear.
‘There’s nothing to be frightened of, Shelly. We just need to make sure you’re as clean inside as you are outside.’
Christina’s words framed a frightening vision of poor Pansy. She had been bent face down over the pink leather horse. A wide leather belt attached to metal bolts on either side of Pansy had been pulled across her back and buckled tightly in place. Her ankles had been fitted into pink leather shackles attached to chains bolted into the rubber floor. Her wrists had been secured in a similar manner on the other side of the horse. Thus, she was stretched in a tight X-shape across the horse, her buttocks spread wide apart and exposed to our fascinated, excited view.
Kathy was busy preparing the length of tubing that ran from the sinister rubber bag, an aroused smile of cruel concentration lighting up her beautiful, angular features. Christina gently pushed me forward and told me to bend over the horse next to Pansy. I did as she ordered, nervous, afraid and deeply aroused. And as soon as I had bent over the horse, Christina grasped my right ankle and very quickly locked it into the corresponding ankle shackle. She repeated this process with my left ankle and then came around the horse to secure my wrists. The slack in the chain that ran between the shackles and the bolts in the floor was such that I soon found myself stretched quite painfully against the horse and unable to move an inch. Even more wor
rying was the fact that my cock rose up just below the body of the horse and was open to any further ministrations my gorgeous she-male mistress might care to apply!
Christina disappeared from view. I was forced to stare down at the rubber-matted floor and await my terrible fate, and I whimpered into the ball gag with a mixture of genuine fear and intense sexual excitement.
I strained to listen to a whispered conversation between the two maids, but I could make out very little of what was said.
Then a hand touched my left buttock and my body tightened. A warm, careful hand that moved teasingly over the ultra-sensitised skin of my bottom and down into the dark cleft which was currently filled with the always tormenting butt plug. Then the hand took hold of the small handle fitted to the head of the plug and began to very slowly extract it from my arse. The pleasure of this removal was truly amazing and I found myself squealing with a violent sex rapture. Pansy was soon joining in, as Kathy removed her plug. Despite all the bondage ordeals I had endured over the last few months, none had left me feeling as helpless and excited as this. A sense of total exposure washed over me as I strained helplessly against the inescapable shackles. My masochistic heart was filled with a deep sissy bliss and my mind was bursting with images of Christina’s perfect erotic form.
The plug was suddenly pulled free and my sense of utter helplessness was further heightened. But no sooner was my back passage freed, than it was plunged back into glorious slavery. For within seconds a cool, soft rubber tip was pressed between my legs and then very carefully slid deep inside me. This, I knew, was the beginning of the rubber tube that hung from the metal frame beside my prone form. Its insertion seemed to take positively ages, but eventually it encountered quite significant resistance and I squealed with genuine discomfort into my gag.
‘This will hurt a little bit,’ Christina whispered, just before pushing hard against the tube.
My squeal turned into a well gagged and very high-pitched cry of pain as the tube broke through this strange, deep barrier and seemed to slide deep inside my guts. Pansy quickly followed suit, and I then knew the true nature of the ‘cleaning’ we were about to endure.
‘You will now each receive an enema,’ Christina explained. ‘The special cleansing solution includes a powerful laxative, and once you have been nappied and frocked, you will be left, appropriately secured, to void the contents of your bowels. This won’t be particularly pleasant, but it is a vital part of your induction training.’
The description of our messy fate inspired a moan of despair from poor Pansy. I was silenced by the fierce masochistic arousal this strange ordeal was inspiring and found the thought of being ‘nappied and frocked’ intensely exciting.
Then I felt a sudden and disturbing coolness in my bowels, and I knew the enema had begun. The sensation was quite disgusting, and soon it felt as if my guts were being pumped up by some fiendish gas device attached directly to my backside! Strange and deeply embarrassing bubbling noises accompanied this grim filling and my bowels soon felt as if they were being stretched so tightly they would surely burst.
‘Now we will remove the tubes,’ Christina said. ‘You must try your very hardest to hold the liquid in while you are plugged. If you fail to do this, you will be whipped.’
The tubes were pulled from our backsides and we both fought desperately to keep the mass of thick liquid held within our now loudly protesting bowels. Then hands were again working on my tormented backside, this time pushing what felt like a long phallic tube of putty into my rectum!
‘We are inserting a plug of body wax,’ Christina continued to explain. ‘This will hold its shape for approximately one hour. The heat of your bodies will eventually melt the plug and it should then only be a few minutes before you void your bowels. Just to make sure, we have lined the plug with a skin irritant that will make it virtually impossible for you to control your sphincter muscles.’
As the plug was forced deep into my well-stretched arse, I let out another wail of sissy pleasure, despite the terrible sense of weakness and discomfort that was now filling my bowels.
Yet even this was not the end of our torment on the horse. For as soon as the plug had been pushed soundly home, I felt a sudden and very painful pressure on my left buttock that exploded into a very painful heat and then a grim biting sensation. I squealed furiously into the gag and fought the body-stretching bonds, as did poor, sexy Pansy.
‘You have just been electronically tattooed,’ Christina added, her voice filled with sadistic pleasure. ‘The mark of the Company is given to all of its slaves.’
As quickly as it had come, the pain left, and then we were both freed from the shackles and pulled to our particularly shaky feet. To try and stand upright was a particular test and almost immediately we were both aware of a very desperate need to go to the toilet. Indeed, were it not for the plug, I am sure I would have voided my bowels there and then!
We were then led towards the row of wardrobes that travelled across about one third of the oval room’s walls. The fluid flooding our innards reduced each step to a pathetic, childish shuffle, and tears of discomfort and fear were already flooding from Pansy’s large, baby-blue eyes.
Kathy slid back one of the metal panels of a wardrobe to reveal a strange and kinky array of babified attire. Suddenly we were facing a row of very finely crafted and quite beautiful baby-girl dresses, each cut from very expensive silk and in many different colours: cream, powder blue, yellow, pink and snow white. Each was covered in a variety of babyish patterns sewn in the gleaming fabric: roses, teddy bears, stars. Each was extremely short, with thickly layered skirts which rose upward on tidal waves of thick frou-frou petticoating. And each had a very high, button-up neck trimmed with more layers of thick lace.
Yet it was not to these delightful, sexy dresses that our sweet captors turned. Instead, Christina opened a long deep drawer in a mini-cupboard positioned at the foot of the dresses and from inside produced a long, thick towel nappy! She waved this at me with a cruel teasing smile and I felt my poor bowels turn over with fear and desire.
‘Spread your legs, sissy,’ she snapped, a wicked glint sparkling in her gorgeous eyes.
The very idea of spreading my legs was quite appalling. Every instinct in my she-male form told me that this would result in some dreadful voiding. But the power of the plug was quite considerable, and as I shakily obeyed, it easily withstood the terrible pressure that my bowels placed upon it.
I watched with tears in my girlish eyes as Christina then proceeded to fold the nappy into a large triangle and slip it very gently between my legs. She very deftly brought the two sides of the material together and used two huge silver safety pins to pin them tightly together.
‘There,’ she purred. ‘My little baby girl. Now stand up straight!’
Utterly humiliated, and thus terribly excited, I obeyed, a wave of babyish submission washing over my pink, ultra-sensitive skin. My rubberised and ringed cock struggled with a renewed enthusiasm and I stared hungrily into Christina’s stunning, dark eyes.
As the lovely, elegant Kathy repeated the embarrassing nappying on poor Pansy, Christina pulled a pair of white stockings from another drawer in the cupboard. At first I thought they were made of nylon, but as they were brought closer to me, I saw that they were made out of the strange, glistening form of Senso that was a beautiful halfway between nylon and rubber.
I felt my ultra-sensitised skin tingle with a terrible anticipation as Christina held the stockings before me.
‘This will be so sexy, Shelly. I really envy you.’
From a gap between two of the curving wardrobes, she took a small, white stool and told me to sit down. I obeyed, feeling the terrible, sickening pressure of my flooded bowels press down against the wax plug as I did so. Christina handed me one of the stockings and smiled as I gasped with a deep physical pleasure at the feel of this extraordinary hose.
‘You know what to do,’ she whispered, her voice a sonic wave of pure erotic honey.
I nodded weakly and leant forward, my bowels bubbling with a particularly threatening intent as I did so.
I slipped my foot into the soft, mysterious material and whimpered helplessly into the fat ball gag. A shiver of pure bliss shot up my leg and straight into the base of my cock. As I drew the stocking over the foot and up my leg, the power of this electric shock of indescribable stimulation increased and, momentarily, I felt myself slip away from consciousness into some strange hyperrealm of ecstatic physicality. It was as if my mind had been jettisoned and replaced with a much more fundamental knowing and I had a direct hotline into the universe of pure sex.
The stocking stretched easily over my baby pink, silken leg and right up to the edge of the nappy, much higher than any of the other kinds of stocking I had been required to wear over the last few months. Then, to my surprise, it seemed to tighten ever so slightly at the top and thus hold itself in place. The second stocking followed and, with tears of terrible arousal trickling from my wide sissy eyes, I was helped to my feet.
I turned to see that Pansy was also being helped into a pair of the amazing stockings. But hers were an almost luminous hot pink! Her lovely eyes betrayed the terrible truth of their impact. Like me, she seemed trapped in some permanently sexed-up universe from which there was no escape.
After the stockings came a pair of semi-transparent, white rubber plastic panties, with a tightly elasticated waist and legs covered in inches of pretty French lace. At first I thought these might also be made of Senso, but as they were carefully positioned around my slender, girlish waist by the gorgeous Christina, it became clear that they were made from genuine rubber.
The panties easily covered the nappy and stretched down well below the tighter stocking tops, and they rustled loudly at the slightest touch or movement.
I looked down at the panties and then up at Christina, a terrible confession of need in my eyes, an embarrassing declaration of how deeply I was enjoying this and how much I wanted to be babified by her elegant sissy hands.
Company of Slaves Page 18