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My favorite dream

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I don't know how long I was under...days, weeks...who knows, maybe even
months. Reality blurred with nightmares as I felt my flesh being cut into
by cold scalpels and stuck with needles, filling me with horribly
persuasive dreams of a beautiful new body. I tried to imagine myself as a
man, just to see if I still could, but it was futile. Every dream I had
featured me with bouncing breasts, an hourglass figure that told everyone
when it was time to fuck me...which was all the time, and a face of an
angel..or a succubus. I just became more and more alluring in my
dreams...more fuckable, and to my surprise, I no longer considered that a
bad thing. In the heady twilight between reality and dreams, I didn't have
the capacity for self deception I'd relied on so doggedly as a man. I
couldn't force myself to feel guilty for relishing the thought of being
every a waking wet dream, even if I wasn't 100% sure when I was awake...

My favorite dream was The White Room. In it, I woke up in a room where the
walls and floor were all painted a solid, textureless white. It reminded me
of my secret place, the place I could hide when my brain melted from trying
to process too much pleasure at once. A place beyond reason, dignity, or
morality. A place I didn't have to wonder why some of my proudest moments
where when I was being humiliated. Where I didn't have to explain to
anyone...especially myself, why the word 'surrender' sounded so musical to
me; why it made me want to sway and writhe to its rhythm. Where pleasure
didn't come with a price tag, and the cost wasn't always going up.

In my dream there were strange, phallic protrusions jutting out of the
floor and the walls. Different lengths and thickness, with all sorts of
different curves and ridges. No two were alike but they were all smooth and
hard and slid in my ass with an almost eerie ease, as if I was perpetually
lubed up. As I bounced up and down the studly stalagmites, I felt my body
come to life, my hands hungrily devoured my new curves, seducing myself and
making me want to fuck that slutty little bimbo even harder. My breasts had
started as soft little peaches, juicy and tender from what I could only
assume was hormones. In time they swelled to the size of small melons. I
was at least a D cup now, although I never seemed to wear a bra in The
White Room, or any clothes for that matter. Clothes would only get in the
way of my eager little fingers, twisting my sensitive nipples until jets of
cum escaped my shrunken clit in a sticky coo of satisfaction. I would
thrust my head back and see myself in the mirrored ceiling, the only part
of the room that broke the illusion of the void, feeling absurdly grateful
to my captors for making me the gurl of my dreams. My golden hair crashed
in waves against my alabaster skin, my bee-stung lips formed an ecstatic
'O', my already feminine features had been surgically softened,
accentuating my button nose and big doe eyes. I probably should have been
alarmed to see myself so changed so drastically, so permanently, and in
such a short period of time. But there was no fear in The White Room. And
as long as I could stay there, I would never have to face the reality my
reflection hinted at. I never wanted to wake up...

"Wake up, Belle. You can't ride the decorative dildos all day. It's your
first day as an official member of the harem, and I'll be damned if you're
going to get me in trouble for letting you fuck yourself all day instead of
showing you the ropes." I probably would have shit myself in fear if I
hadn't been given daily enemas...or was that part a dream too? Standing in
the doorway I didn't even know existed, stood the sissy that got me into
this, the stunning raven haired goddess, standing almost six foot sexy,
with soft skin and generous curves hiding hard muscle and a cold heart. Her
dark eyes constantly smoldering, her full lips always slightly tilted in a
sinister smirk. She had the face of a Madonna and the soul of a
succubus. To see her was to want her, and to want her was to be damned. All
I wanted now was to hate her, after all, she was the one who did this to
me. I was supposed to be her Master, but she saw something else inside me,
and teased it out of me one squirt at a time. Now that I had the body to
match my inner beauty and I'd become just another sissy slave in my
step-father's stable, I wondered if she would continue to tease and torment
me, or if the affection she had so cruelly faked to bring me low would grow
into something real. I said a silent prayer that this was still a dream,
because if it was, maybe we could have something real inside my
fantasy. "Are you even listening to me, you stupid slut? Or have you gone
dick dumb from riding faux phalluses for hours on end?" Sigh...it wasn't a
dream. Instead, my nightmare was just beginning.

I followed Isabella out of the room and into a nondescript hallway. I
opened my mouth to ask her how long I'd been out, but before I could utter
a sound, she said, "First off, don't bother to ask how long you were being
'perfected'. I don't know and if I did, I wouldn't tell you. Time is fluid
down here. We know when to eat, sleep, and fuck based on a series of
chimes. You probably never paid attention to it when you where upstairs
because you never had to meet a deadline in your life, but there are no
calenders or clocks upstairs either. So get used to not knowing even the
most basic things and accepting whatever you are told." She spoke with a
bitterness that I hoped wasn't all directed at me. I realized with a pang
of guilt that she was right about me, no one had ever depended on me for
anything, so I guess time had always been fluid for me.

I opened my mouth to speak again, and again she cut me off, "Don't bother
asking anymore questions. I've heard them all before and I'll tell you
everything you need to know to be a good little sissy, which is precious
little. That's rule number one by the way...a sissy never asks
questions. If she needs to know anything, her Master will tell her." I
nodded and followed behind her, walking past a mind boggling number of
rooms with different plaques on them...The Locker Room, The Prison Cell,
The Count's Chambers, The Classroom...and countless other fantasy themed
rooms. I bit my tongue so that I wouldn't let a question slip out, not
wanting to upset Isabella before we had a chance to talk about all that had
happened.

"Sigh...okay, I can see this is killing you, and you make a really annoying
face when you're trying to think, so I'll tell you what the rooms are
for. You might have noticed that the basement is pretty big. That's because
it's not a basement, it's an underground complex your father built to live
in after World War III or Armageddon, or a race war or whatever horrible
old rich white men plan for." I felt a twinge of sadness at the mention of
my horrible old rich white man father. I had never met the man, he died
during my conception, a casualty of his own vanity. He married my mother at
age 89, a ridiculous attempt to recapture his youth with a vapid trophy
wife. He didn't make it past the wedding night, cumming and going at the
same time as his heart gave out. I wonder if that's why I'm so weak? Maybe
his sperm wasn't potent enough...

"But to make a long story short, Master Darren saw the potential of the
'basement' and has turned it into a fantasy brothel and sissy re-education
center. Even I don't know how big it really is, or where the guests come
and go from, but you'll meet them eventually. It's an expanding operation
and you're the newest, but certainly not the last sissy to join the team."
Suddenly, I felt even more insignificant, if that was even possible. Not
only had my identity, my manhood, my fortune, freedom, and future been
stripped from me, but I wasn't even special...I was just another sissy out
of many to come. Isabella must have noticed my hurt expression, because she
consoled me by saying, "Don't you dare get mopey around me. I will give you
a reason to cry and then beat the tears out of you. A good sissy is a happy
sissy. That's rule number seven. Dammit, look at you making me skip ahead."

"I'm sorry, Mistress Isabella." I didn't dare talk back to her, even if I
did think she was being needlessly cruel...after all, she had me wrapped
around her little finger when I was still technically a man, still
officially her Master...I didn't want to find out what she could do to me
now that I was just a sissy. I sucked up my sniffles and followed her
without a word until we got to the showers. Before I could even eep, she
pushed me against the wall, her hard cock crushing my tiny clit as it
struggled to rise to its full two inches...

"Now listen up, because I'm only going to say this once. You're going to
learn a lot of rules about being a good little sissy soon, but there's one
lesson you need to learn right now. When the Masters aren't around, I'm in
charge. If you stupid little sluts get in trouble, I get punished too. So
you'd better believe I will keep you in line." Her hand closed around my
throat. It was soft and warm, but it felt like it could crush my larynx
with a single squeeze. I just kept nodding dumbly, not wanting to give her
a reason to give me a demonstration of how she kept naughty sissies in
line...

"Now down in the basement the rules aren't as strict. When we have free
time, they don't mind us getting off in whatever way we can. But let me
warn you, you won't always have a choice in how you get off, or more
importantly, how you get the other sissies off. It's not my job to keep the
other sissies from picking on you or making you their personal pet and
fuckhole." I remembered the casual cruelty with which the voluptuous Latina
Lola had fucked the tattooed, pierced, and shaved sissy, Cunt. And the
other gurls had eagerly watched as Isabella had fucked the cum out of me. I
had a terrifying vision of drowning in a pool of sissy cum that poured out
of my well fucked holes. Or was that a tempting vision? The idea of
submitting to another sissy made my sissy clit throb, but it also
frightened me. If they had even an ounce of the pent up frustration I had
at times, they would tear me apart like tissue paper. But without
Isabella's protection, I didn't know what I could do.

"If you don't want to end up the bottom bunk bitch of a harem of
sissies...and I'd be surprised if you weren't already drooling at the
thought, you better assert your dominance and fast. If you don't pick a
sissy to overpower and dominate, trust me, one will pick you. Who knows,
maybe even you can boss around one of these born and bred bimbo
bitches. But first things first, you stink of sweat and cum. Take a shower
and then meet me in the dorms so I can finish your reorientation." I nodded
yes emphatically, so terrified that I looked like a bobble head doll just
to make sure I didn't upset her. She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of
disinterested disgust. I hung my head and made my way into the showers. I
was starting to think this whole, forcibly feminized fuck doll gig might
not be as glamorous as the brochure made out. Worse still, Isabella only
saw me as an annoyance. After all we'd been through, I thought she would at
least hate me, but this coldness was so much worse. I was beginning to
understand why Dante put the traitors in the lowest rung of Hell in a
frozen wasteland. I had betrayed Isabella, just as she betrayed me, and now
a wall of ice separated us in Hell.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice anyone else as in the
showers, that is until I walked right into her. "Hey! What's the big idea?"
I almost apologized reflexively, but I swallowed my sorry before I could
utter it. I didn't want to appear weak, not when my entire future in the
basement was at stake. I had to prove I wasn't at the bottom of the pegging
order, and as I saw the hurt look on Cunt's face, I realized I had already
found someone I could easily dominate. Her entire body was an advertisement
for her weakness, filthy slurs tattooed in ornate lettering across her
hairless body, topped off with 'CUNT' written on her forehead. She looked
so vulnerable as the water cascaded over her skin, I could just imagine
there were tears running down her cheeks. I hated myself for it, but I knew
I had to put them there if I wanted to show these sissies I could be tough,
or at least tough for a sissy... "Who do you think you're talking to,
Cunt? I'll walk where I goddamn want, and you'd better watch where I'm
going from now on." I sneered at her as I puffed out my chest, which wasn't
quite as intimidating as I'd intended considering I was basically shoving
my pendulous breasts at her, but I kept my nerve up. I knew it that it was
now or never. I had to establish my dominance immediately so that her
natural instinct to submit to someone stronger would kick in and I would
have my first bitch. I thought of the various sissies in the
harem. Obviously I couldn't make Isabella my bitch, that ship had sailed
once I let her fuck me...five or so times. And I knew Lola could kick my
ass just as easily as she could fuck it, but I didn't see why I should
submit to Bambi or Sakura. I figured that even I could boss around a living
kewpie doll and a school girl geisha. But first I had to see to Cunt...

"My name...is CONTESSA!" I smirked as I saw her normally docile face
scrunch up into a mask of diminutive rage. It was so cute...that is until
she pounced on me, knocking the wind out of me as she hit me square in the
stomach with her shoulder and used the full weight of her body to knock me
to the floor. I struggled to regain my composure, to try to figure out what
just happened, to try and regain control of the situation. But with her
steely fingers pinning down my wrists and her powerful legs weighing down
on my shapely but weak stems, I realized I never had control in the first
place...

"So, you thought you were going to make me your bitch, is that it?" Her
modest but shapely B-cup breasts crushed against my almost ridiculously
well endowed tits. I squealed like a tortured mouse. I don't know if it was
the steam rising from the hot water hitting the cool tile floor or if my
new curves were making me feel even more submissive and sex starved than
ever before...which before I found myself writhing underneath Contessa's
firm grip, I would have never thought possible. "What were you going to
make me do...suck your shriveled little clit? Or where you going to try and
get it hard enough for a few pathetic pumps inside my sexy ass?" Her lips
caressed my ear, her breath hot on my cheek, her teeth closed around my
tender ear lobe...

"AIEEEEE!" pain shot through my head as her teeth cut into by flesh, I
tried to scream, but she struck with the speed of a cobra, her mouth
seizing mine, forcing my scream back down my throat with her nimble
tongue. I soon forgot my pain as her tongue wrestled mine to the floor of
my mouth and her nipples sc****d against mine with a frustratingly frantic
friction. Her smooth leg slid between mine, and despite my terror...or
maybe because of it, I found myself desperately thrusting my hips, rubbing
my swollen clit against her thigh, humping her like a bitch in heat. She
released my mouth for a moment and I assumed she wanted to hear me whimper
wetly, but then she jammed her leg violently into my baby-soft
balls. "EEEEEEEEEE!" my scream would have made a castrato jealous.

"Ooh, I'm going to like playing with you. I haven't even broken the skin
and already you're singing like a dying bird." My body was wracked with
pain, starting from my bruised fruit and taking root up inside my guts,
were it found fertile soil to plant pain....but just as suddenly as she
thrust me into Hell, she delivered me into Heaven, moving with a feline
speed and grace down between my legs, taking my swollen sack into her mouth
and gingerly sucking on it, nursing it back to health as I fought back
tears of anguished relief. "You see, Belle, I can be a loving
Mistress...but only to bitches that show me respect." Her voice went from
silky soft, a soothing whisper that sneaked into my ear to the cold,
merciless monotone of an executioner, or her Master, Darius. She got up off
me, satisfied that I wouldn't try to resist any further. She stood up and
held her dainty foot in front of me, wriggling her little toes. I saw that
B-I-T-C-H was tattooed on them with an ornate flourish and I felt a pang of
shame that I would have a bitch for a Mistress. But I knew it was pointless
to resist, and more than anything, I wanted to find out how loving she
could be. I kissed the sole of her foot, licking from heel to toe and
taking her dainty toes in my mouth one by one, alternating between sucking
on them and sliding my tongue between them. I heard her laugh, it sound
like broken glass falling to the floor...

"That's a good little bitch...as long as you know your place, we'll get
along just fine. And I'll only have to hurt you a little..." I looked up at
her with a look of awe struck submission, not bothering to try and hide the
fear and lust wrestling in my eyes. I knew that was what she wanted to see
anyway. "You probably thought I was easy prey, didn't you? You saw the way
my Master treated me, see my shameful submission literally written on my
face, heh you even saw Lola riding me like a little fuck pony, didn't you?"
She took her foot and placed it under my chin, lifting my head up closer
and closer to her erect sissy stick. I'd never seen it from this angle, it
was an intimidating sight, it had grown to at least a full five inches, and
not terribly thick, but dotted with metal spikes that had been embedded in
her tender cock. I imagined what it would feel like in my throat and I
swallowed hard. I realized with a stifled sob that I was about to find
out...

"Well I've got some news for you...I'm the toughest sissy in the
basement. You could torture me all day and you'd only end up begging me for
mercy. My Master has made me the strongest, sickest, sexiest sissy alive,
and you little bitches belong to me when you're in my basement. I let your
snobby sissy slut pretend she's in charge because she doesn't try and fuck
my bitches, but make no mistake...she may enforce the rules, but down
here...I make them. So if I want to order Lola to fuck me with her fat
prick, then that's my business. But get this straight, she is a kept sissy,
just like me, so that makes us better than you community sissies...so don't
you ever try and fuck me again. Get it?"

During her threatening tirade she kept rubbing her cock all over my face,
the smell of lavender and sweat making me swoon and her hard steel grazing
my soft flesh making me tremble in fear...and anticipation. I realized what
a terrible mistake I'd made, and I was surprised at how guilty I felt. I
don't know if it was the shock of processing all these new sensations and
the onslaught of changes all at once, or if I was simply adjusting to my
new role as a sissy slave, but I didn't even question why I was so eager to
please her. Submitting to the strong just made sense...it was the natural
order, it was my moral duty to honor the gods of Domination and
Degradation, even if they were arbitrary and cruel. And the worst part was,
I think a part of me wanted her to be unfairly malicious. I felt like I
deserved to be punished for being so weak, for throwing my life away for a
kiss...and who better to condemn me than another sissy? "Please, Mistress,
please punish me for being such a stupid slut. I want to be a good slave!"
Even as I was saying it I was cringing, my words far braver than I
was. Maybe I deserved it, but I didn't know if I was strong enough to take
my punishment.

Contessa looked pleasantly surprised, which for a fleeting, fluttery
moment, made it all feel worthwhile. Of course, the moment couldn't last. I
must have been smiling too broadly, or maybe my mouth was slack and
drooling from feeling her cock kissing my lips, but suddenly I felt hot
flesh and cold steel barreling down my throat, bringing tears to my eyes
and stopping my heart. For a moment there was only the shock of the alien
sensation of unyielding metal traveling along with soft skin and hard, but
malleable muscle. And then my brain decided to make up for slacking off by
processing the stabbing sensation of pain in stark detail. I panicked, sure
from the intensity of the agony shredding in and out of my throat that I
must be fatally wounded. Unfortunately, this only make my throat close
tighter around the studded sissy stick, spurring Contessa on as I milked
her hard clit. "Hmm I've got admit, I didn't expect much from your mouth,
but you've got quite the talented little throat. I'm going to have to cut
this short if I want to fuck that tender little pussy of yours."

I didn't know whether to be relieved or horrified as she pulled out of
mouth with a wet plop and let me crumple to the floor. Drool dribbled past
my lips and down my chin, hitting the tile before me as I panted, slack
jawed and spent. What I saw surprised me almost as much as my throat
fucking...there wasn't a drop of blood in my spit. What had felt like
mortal wounds was only sensitive nerves being pressed hard by pointed, but
apparently dull metal studs. In a way I felt disappointed, sure I wasn't
going to die, but that meant I had caved to pain alone. I had hoped I was
past that, but every fresh hurt turned me into a frightened virgin, and I
never knew when I would beg for mercy, humiliating myself and bringing more
well deserved wrath on my head. I'd been lucky so far, but I knew I had to
steel myself if I was going to endure what came next. Contessa took
advantage of me being on all fours like a good little bitch, sliding behind
me with that terrifying speed of hers and forcing her cock into my ass with
one forceful thrust.

"NNNGGGHH!" I gritted my teeth until I thought they might crush into
powder, but I did not let the scream out. Contessa's slim prissy prick slid
in with little resistance. Instead of making it easier to accommodate her
member, it let her long shaft me immediately, digging a trench of boiling
lava into the bottom of my love tunnel while the top of her mushroom head
hit my sissy spot sending muted throbs of pleasure to ease my pain. But it
was like tossing drops of water into a volcano...she wasn't hitting it hard
enough to give me any real release, but I worried that if she sped up any
more, her spikes would be the nails on my coffin, digging a hole I couldn't
climb out of as the pain boiled over until I couldn't endure it any
longer. That's when Contessa did something that really shocked me...

"Aww...poor little, Belle...her first day and she's already getting
trenched...I remember my first day here...how frightened and alone I
felt. To be honest, I expected you to beg me to stop even before I shoved
Mr. Chompers up your sissy chute. I'll give you a break, just this
once..."and just like that...she pulled out, leaving only warm steam to
fill my hole providing a balm to my ravaged nerves. I looked up at her with
puppy dog eyes, overwhelmed by the unimaginable generosity she showed by
not tearing up my ass. I couldn't form the words to express my gratitude,
which made them that much more profound. "Aww...aren't you the friendly
little puppy? Just for that, I'm going to clean you myself." All she does
is curl her finger slightly, but an 18 wheeler couldn't have pulled me
towards her any quicker. Before I knew it I was kneeling at her feet, warm
water cascading down on us both. She put a finger on my chin and I
immediately rose to my feet, eagerly awaiting her next command.

She didn't speak a word...but her hands said everything, slowly sliding up
and down my curves, soap covering every inch of my quivering flesh, her
skillful hands finding every nook and cranny. I wrapped my lips around her
shoulder to stifle a moan, and she took the opportunity to gently stroke my
hair, the wavy blonde locks sticking to my back as she caressed my crown. I
was shell shocked by this sudden change in her personality. She went from
the kind of girls that rips the wings of flies and then tries to staple
them back on, to this sweet, loving creature. I didn't know what to make of
it, but I also didn't want to figure it out if there was something wrong
with it. So I just turned off my brain and let the water run down our
bodies, finding the tiny crevices between our soft embrace and heating them
up as they caressed them with tiny streams. Of course, this oasis in Hell
couldn't last forever. After what seemed like only an instant, but which my
pruning fingers told me must be longer, she broke the embrace, practically
cooing, "There. Now you're all clean and you can go meet my other pets."

I smiled stupidly, no longer worrying about anything, and trusting my new
Mistress implicitly, as if I hadn't just been ravaged by her. This comfort
made me careless, and I forgot how quickly she could turn violent. All I
was thinking about was the need throbbing between my legs and radiating
from my aching nipples as well as the soul deep emptiness in my sissy
pussy. "Please, Mistress, will you help me get off now. I haven't cum since
I woke up and I feel like I'm going to rupture something." I don't know
what I expected...I should have remembered a slave lives for pleasure, just
not her pleasure. But what I definitely did not expect was to see the
warmth freeze in her eyes and for her face to fall into a mask of merciless
malice.

"I should have known...still the same spoiled brat. You're not a friendly
little puppy at all. You're a filthy little fuck pig. Well we'll see how
hungry you really are..." She yanked me by the hair and I couldn't keep the
shameful shrieks inside me. She didn't yank especially hard or even seem to
care if she was inflicting pain one way or the other. She was just using it
as a substitute for a leash, dragging me into the adjacent locker room,
every step further eroding my will, leaving me a sobbing snotty mess by the
time she tossed me unceremoniously on the ground. "Ugh...you really are a
fuck pig, aren't you? Well luckily I carry around just the thing for sluts
like you." I saw her digging into her locker and each item she pulled out
made my heart beat faster, the blood rushing to my face so fast I almost
fainted...

The leash I expected...I almost felt relieved when I felt it tightly hug my
neck. At this point I needed someone to control me, I was obviously in no
state to...and it beat pulling me by my hair. The next item seemed cute at
first, pink perky little ears on a leather strap that she fastened tightly
around my chin. I thought maybe she had a change of heart and was going to
give me another chance to prove I could be a good little sex kitten...that
is, until I saw the pink plastic snout in one hand, and the butt plug in
the other...matching pink, and flaring wider than any cock I'd ever taken,
but long enough to mash in my gooey button, with a corkscrew tail
completing my fuck pig uniform...I don't know if it was nerves or brazen
lust, but I couldn't hold in an excited little squeal...

"Ugh...you really are a disgusting creature." I had no doubt that her
contempt was genuine, which made me feel hurt and worthless, but at the
same time I struggled with the overwhelming excitement building inside me
as I waited to find out what Contessa had in store for me. I was torn...on
one hand I wanted nothing more to please my new Mistress, on the other I
NEEDED to cum. One thing was crystal clear... my new Mistress was as
unpredictable as she was dangerous, and I didn't want to give her any more
cause to lash out at me than I already had. I would let her humiliate me
and prove whatever point it was she was trying to prove, and I would learn
my lesson, even if she was the only who knew what that was...

I didn't know what expression she wanted me to wear as she slipped the
snout on my face, but apparently a stupid grin wasn't it...I squealed
again, but this time in pain, as her hand met my buttock with enough force
to make my teeth rattle. "Don't you dare smile at me, piggy. You aren't
even a human being anymore, just a disgusting a****l. So you look at the
floor and don't you dare say a word. Piggies can't talk. So if I ask you a
question, you snort once for yes and twice for no, understand?" I start to
nod, but then realize that would mean I would have to look up at her, so as
dehumanizing as it was, I merely stared at my hands and grunted once as
respectfully as I could. "That's a good pig..."

Contessa rewarded my obedience by pressing the plug up against my puckered
hole...I said a silent thank you for the lube she had evidently applied to
it, because it slid in without much of a struggle. There was a moment when
it felt a large rubbery ball of pain was being forced up inside me, but it
tapered off as my asshole swallowed up the widest part of the plug and
greedily gobbled the rest until all that stuck out was my cute curly
tail. I marveled in the feeling of hard, unyielding rubber against my
tingling nerves, it was different from the heated friction of flesh on
flesh...not as intense, to be sure, but not as fleeting either. My ass
wiggled involuntarily as I squeezed to hug it tighter with my anal walls. I
could feel Contessa's disgusted stare dripping over me even without looking
up, but I couldn't help myself. It was a vicious circle, the more
humiliated I was for acting so depraved and wanton, the hornier I got over
being humiliated. I couldn't control myself, all I could do was crawl
behind my Mistress as she led me by the leash to what ever delightful
punishment she had planned...

She led me out of the locker room and through the labyrinth of identical
halls. I had no idea how she knew where to go, but then again, I didn't
need to know, because all I could do was follow anyway. Along the way, she
would make staccato raps to the water pipes, sending out what I could only
assume was sort of sissy Morse code. I wondered vaguely what she was
saying, and who she was saying it to, but again I decided it was pointless
to ponder it. There's a special sort of calm in surrender. Once you accept
that you are completely powerless to change your fate, you are free from
worrying about it. That is, until you pass the love of your life and the
mother of all heart breakers in the hall and hear her sigh "Christ,
Contessa, what the fuck are you thinking? You couldn't wait a full day
before making Belle your fuck pig?" Her tone was exasperated, but not
surprised. My mindless calm became troubled by waves of shameful regret. It
would be one thing if she sounded jealous, or even disappointed...but she
only sounded annoyed with Contessa for not being more patient. She didn't
doubt for a second that I'd end up as a disgusting fuck pig, she knew it
was inevitable...she just wanted Contessa to give me a day or two first...

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Isabella. Your little girlfriend here
tried to make me her bitch, and then when in my infinite mercy I decided to
forgive my new bitch, the nasty fuck pig begged to cum. So I'm taking piggy
to get fed." I risked sneaking a glance up at Isabella to see her reaction,
immediately regretting it. There was the usual tired disinterest, but the
moment she heard about 'feeding me', she winced and something that almost
resembled pity came into her eyes. I began to worry where I was headed, and
remembered with a shudder that it didn't matter where I was headed or what
Contessa had planned, because there was nothing I could do to stop
her...only this time the thought wasn't so comforting. Instead, my
helplessness only added to the gnawing worry eating me up inside. But all I
could do was follow as my new Mistress led me away from my first Mistress
and towards whatever twisted fate she had planned for me...


I knew we had finally reached our destination when I let out a half
fearful/half excited gasp...the playroom! An impressively large room filled
with all sorts of twisted toys and the restraints needed to force me to
play with them. My lip trembled fearfully under my snout, making me the
perfect picture of a pathetic pet. I saw Lola leaning over a stockade,
licking her lips lasciviously. I didn't know whether to be relieved or
even more terrified. With Contessa I didn't know where her mood with take
her from one second to the next, but at least there was the possibility for
small pockets of kindness, an eye in the storm of her sadistic wrath. With
Lola, I had the feeling I could count on consistency, but I had a gut punch
feeling that it would be consistently cruel, or at best capricious. Her
greeting didn't exactly allay my fears..."Hola, Bella, you are looking muy
delicioso since you emerged from your cocoon. I've been waiting to feed you
mi chorizo, so I hope you tiene mucho hungry."

I wanted to explain myself, ask her to be gentle, but I saw the hunger
dripping from her eyes, the same I saw in her Master's gaze just before he
forced his fat cock up my ass without so much as a drop of spit. Contessa
was silent as an executioner as she pulled me up into the stockade,
securing my hands and neck and forcing me to stand spread-eagle with my ass
arched invitingly just to avoid from chocking against my restraints. I
couldn't see her as her long dagger-like nails slid gently across my skin,
the tenderness of it only reinforcing how vulnerable I was should she
choose to cut into me. That familiar treachery stirred within me, my body
building up to a full scale mutiny against my better judgment, only my new
body was even more persuasive. My breasts weighed heavily as they hung
against the smooth oak of my stocks, caressed by hard, unyielding wood,
they throbbed with pleasure, telling me to embrace the binds that hugged me
so tight. My legs shook in anticipation, sending shudders all the way up to
my generous ass, which shimmied as if trying to charm any nearby snakes
inside. I wanted to say something, anything that might get them to see me
as something more than sexual livestock, if not a human, at least a fellow
sissy. But all I could manage was to grunt once for yes...oh God yes...
Contessa finally cut through the thick silence with her steely voice, "In
case you haven't figured this out yet, you aren't here as a reward. I will
not tolerate a selfish sissy in my service. You will learn self control, or
I will teach you the wages of sin Dante Alighieri style. But, I can be an
angel of mercy or the Queen of Hell. It's all up to you. If you can make
Lola here cum before you do, then I'll let you go back to being almost
human. If not...well, let's just say you really can have too much of a good
thing." Throughout her sinister speech, I pricked my pink pointed ears up
and hung helplessly on every word.

Still, it was tough to focus Contessa out of sight and with Lola stripping
naked before me. She peeled off her tight whorish halter top and unzipped
her miniskirt letting it fall to the floor. Unsurprisingly, she was
completely naked underneath, her tanned skin looking so appetizing pulled
taut over her voluptuous curves. She was probably the only one in the
Basement with fuller curves than me, but where mine were soft and yielding,
one look would tell you that you could bounce a quarter off of her bubble
butt, her thick thighs and broad hips looked like they could pop a
watermelon, even as her hips curved in steeply, giving her the figure of a
bronze Barbie doll or one of R Crumb's wet-dream-girls. Her cock was even
more impressive, uncut, it really did look like a mouthwatering sausage,
and a frighteningly filling one at that. It must have been a lucky seven
inches long, and so thick my jaw hurt just staring at it. But by the time
she finally pressed it to my lips, saying "Come on, puta, it's tu
comida...so eat up...", I didn't so much open my mouth as I moaned around
it...

It was only the fourth cock I had in my mouth, but even so, I was sure I'd
never get tired of tasting a new treat. Just as Isabella's was milder than
my step-brother Dale's cock and Contessa's had a more flowery smell and a
bite to it, Lola's had its own unique taste, texture, and shape. For one,
her foreskin gave it the delightful sensation of unwrapping a piece of
candy with my tongue, only it was one of those Mexican candies, salty and a
little spicy from the sweat trapped underneath its hood...but far from
unpleasant. And her girth was making me swoon, and not just from the lack
of oxygen. Feeling her stretch my throat to cartoonish proportions sent
submissive shivers down my spine. I couldn't resist wiggling my little tail
and clenching down on my pretty pink plug so that it would press against my
pretty pink prostate and make my entire body throb with every surge of her
hot tamale. I was beginning to wonder why anyone thought being a sissy's
bitch was a bad thing. I couldn't imagine ever turning down Lola's fat
clit, so why should I care if I didn't have a choice?

I soon found out when she began lovingly stroking my hair, softly at first
whispering, "Mi amor, mi chiquita bonita, mi cochinto chinga" and all sorts
of other romantic sounding serenading. But then she gripped my hair
tightly, and as if she wasn't aware of what she was doing, started
thrusting so fast, that my head was getting slammed against the hard
wood...even as her hard wood reminded me of how bad something I loved could
hurt me. She still was cooing at me, "You're such a good little piggy...es
so sexy when your snout mashes against mi stomach...I'm going to ask
Contessa if she minds me tying a ribbon around your
tail...cute...little...tail...and...cute...little...throat..." I guess the
best thing about Lola was also the worst thing. She wasn't vindictive like
Contessa or manipulative like Isabella...she was just passionate. But it
was a passion that burned up everything it touched, and she was its first
victim, lost in mindless hedonism and completely unaware of how brutal her
love was.

My only consolation was in knowing that at this rate, she would fill my
throat with her milk before she could even think about fucking me. I would
prove my worth as a sissy and I wouldn't even have to do anything. I just
hoped I would have enough brain cells to appreciate it once the drunken
stupor of an oxygen starved brain wore off. And then I heard the familiar
sound of Contessa's sharp voice cutting through my daze..."Pathetic. You
couldn't even wait until she started fucking you, could you? No, you had to
milk your disgusting toy tail for all it was worth. Well I hope it was
worth it, because I don't give second chances..." I had no idea what she
was talking about, until I felt my legs go rubbery and my clitty spasm and
shoot, sending gushes of giddy glee throughout my rolling curves. This new
body seemed even more responsive than before, with my golly gee spot
bursting into a blissed out flood that pumped through my veins, my nipples
radiating the happy hurt they usually only sent out for a hard fuck and my
White Room closing in around me, Lola metamorphosing into an angel sent to
deliver me from the darkness and lead me safely into the pure perfect light
of salvation...and then she pulled out.

Once I stopped drooling long enough to think and my mind chugged back to
life, I remembered that Lola had delivered me evil, she had handed me over
to it...dropping me into the claws of the Queen of Hell...I could only
imagine what kind of unimaginable torture Contessa was cooking up behind
me. I think any sight would have been better than the swirl of images
pulling me down into the abyss of hopeless terror. When Lola joined her
Mistress behind me, I became doubly worried. I felt a tug on my tail, and I
squirmed helplessly as it was sloooooowly pulled out of me, the width of
the plug bringing back that taut pain as I stretched my sphincter to make
its way out. But I was surprised that it didn't hurt more, it must have
loosened me up a little the first time, because I noticed the sweet stabs
of pleasure more than the heated hurt. I even let myself hope that maybe my
punishment wouldn't be as bad as I feared. But of course I was wrong. My
punishment ended up being much, much better than I could have ever
imagined...and that was the true Hell of it...

"Mami, por favor with sugar on top, can I fill this piggy with leche before
you punish her...think of it as extra lube..." this sounded about as far
from punishment as things could get. Ever since I saw her bronze beauty
thick and throbbing before my lips, I had wanted...okay, NEEDED to feel it
inside my hungrier hole. And with my cute little tail cut off, my pussy was
feeling excruciatingly empty. Once again I wondered what they could have
done to make my new body even more wanton and willing. It's not like I had
an asshole transplant...did I? Had they surgically grafted a woman's pussy
into my ass? As ridiculous as that sounded, the reality seemed even less
plausible, because with my asshole as sensitive and responsive as it felt
in that moment, I doubt I'd even be able to fart without cumming. I waited
with bated breath to hear Contessa's answer, saying a silent prayer to all
the devils in Hell offering to sell my soul if she would just say yes,
hoping they didn't know my step-father already had a lien on it...

My prayers were answered in the form of a warm, silky smooth pressure
against my throbbing hole, Lola slid in with ease, and I grunted "YES! YES!
YES!" as she slid effortlessly into me, her once frightening width bringing
only a playful pinch to my tender tissue. Instead of tearing me apart, she
was filling me up, hitting every weak spot inside me at once. At that
moment I forgot that I didn't have a real pussy, I was certain the lube
that let Lola slide in and out of me at a quickening pace must have been my
pussy getting wet. I struggled to make sense of it, but then I felt her
hands slide up and down my pendulous breasts, teasing them with tantalizing
pleasure that tickled it's way across my skin down to my swollen
nipples. They were so hard and so puffy, they looked like a bee had stung
them, only instead of venom, he filled them with sweet sweet honey. Now I
was certain that these were my real breasts, not implants...they just had
to be, it's the only way the could fill up with hot liquid lust, like two
water balloons ready to burst...the only way my nipples could throb with
the beat of my pussy pumping out the backed up gurl goo into my veins and
out to every quivering capillary under my skin. It made sense when I
thought about it...or I guess the appropriate word would be 'felt' about
it...because it felt real...and feelings were so much more real than
reality. Besides, if I had a pussy, I had to have breasts, and if I had
breasts it made since I had a pussy. I was dizzy chasing myself deeper and
deeper down a vicious circle jerk until my brain gave up even trying to
work it out and deferred to my body's infinite wisdom...

I should have been worried. Sex as a sissy had been overwhelming back when
I was still technically a man, even disorienting, but things had never felt
so oppressively unreal before. It wasn't like before, when my mind would
reach a point where it couldn't process the orgasms multiplying
exponentially until there was no room in my head for anything else. I mean,
sure that was happening too...especially since Lola's passion was only
matched by her endurance her prickette filling me again and again, setting
off cluster bombs of devastating euphoria. But unlike before, things didn't
just go blank...there was something waiting, some sort of back up, filling
the White Room with a flood of images and thoughts too fast to
comprehend...which only seemed to make them more convincing. Some small
sliver of sanity was trying to reject the decadent mantra, knowing
instinctively somehow that the more right things felt, the wronger they
were, but all that came out of its savage scream was, "SQUUEEEEEEEEEE!"

"Ooh it looks like piggy like's her food. Well here cums some more slop,
puta!" Lola grabbed my buttocks, squeezing down on them so hard she forced
out another squeal of delight. She pulled me back onto her throbbing member
so hard my teeth rattled and I felt a flood of sissy fluids fill my hungry
hole. Her orgasm traveled through me, rolling downhill like a sticky
snowball into it buried me in creamy perfection...it was like I couldn't
feel a part of me that wasn't cumming, even my soft, shriveled clit was
spurting out a thin drool of sissy squeezings. She sighed as she massaged
my buttocks, kneading them as if to milk the last shuddery spurts...each
one sent shivers of sizzling delight through me. By the time she pulled out
and left me hanging limply in my stocks, I felt well fucked and well
filled. If this was punishment, I was going to be a very naughty gurl.

"Hmm...just what I'd expect from a little piggy. She ate her meal and now
she's ready to roll around in her filth and pass out. But this is supposed
to be punishment, remember, piggy? Or are you ready to be a good sissy?
I'll give you the choice. If you are willing to go a week with out cumming,
I won't punish you. That, or I can make you cum right now. Well what will
it be?" Contessa asked as if she already knew the answer, as if going
through the motions for formality's sake was a tiresome chore. But how
could she expect me to turn down a chance to cum for a week's worth of no
cumming? I couldn't think up a worse punishment than that...and I hoped
that neither could she. My mind was still hazy from my deep dicked drunken
cum high, but what little rational thought that poked through the fog all
told me I needed to cum...that it was worth any punishment for a little
more pleasure. I didn't know if that was coming from me, my body, or the
mysterious new place beyond The White Room, but at that moment, it didn't
matter. I knew what I had to do. I snorted once for yes...and I snorted
very politely...

"So pathetic...and so utterly predictable." Contessa was still out of sight
and after a few absurdly long seconds, I began to have second thoughts. I
was still too horny to worry about the punishment, but I was starting to
worry about the funishment. I was worried that the way Contessa liked to
cum and the way I preferred were world's apart. But then Lola wheeled out
the most captivating contraption I've ever seen. Lola showed it off with a
grand flourishes of her arms, as if she were revealing the grand prize on
some perverted game show. It was a behemoth on wheels...a giant motor
attached to what looked like a powerful piston and at the end of the
piston...an ultra realistic dildo, fat and long, just like I liked
them. All of the sudden I saw the dark humor in her offer to let me cum in
exchange for a punishment...cumming was the punishment. That machine was
both a sex toy and a torture device...it just depended on how long you left
it on. And from the look on Lola's face, it was going to be left on half
past Hell...

"Lola and I have places to be, so we'll just let The Obliterator5000 here
keep you company until we get back. I'm sure it won't be more than a few
hours at most...try not to have too much fun." Try not to have too much
fun. I would have laughed, but I knew the joke was on me. I heard the
sinister squeak of the wheels as they positioned it behind me, felt it
slowly part my pussy as it slid into place, making me snort reflexively, my
body happy for sloppy seconds even if my brain was running around in
circles looking for a way out. The I felt a dribble of precum leak into my
cunt, my lust/fear addled mind not sure if it was an inventive lubing
mechanism or if they somehow got a real cock onto that infernal machine,
and I knew I was lost. By the time I heard the click of the Obliterator
whirring to life, I had surrendered to the inevitable. Surrender, it was
beginning to become my defining trait, to the point I wasn't sure what else
was left. Did anything else really matter if it could all change with a
blush and a whimper?

Paradoxically, I felt the familiar feeling of hopeless optimism well up
inside me the moment I gave in. I thought that maybe I'm more of a slut
than they ever dreamed, and this really will be a reward for me. I don't
know why that was supposed to be a comforting thought, but it worked well
enough to dull the sharp edges of nerves stabbing into my gut. But what
made even less sense was how I could still find hope in the first
place. Things were already hopeless long before I ended up in the basement,
maybe even as early as birth. Maybe my new Master was right, maybe some
people are destined to be slaves, but even if I wasn't, that didn't change
my circumstances...and what hope did a sissified shemale slave have? I
couldn't think of a single reasonable scenario that meant anything but
unending torment and terror...but I could think of dozens of increasingly
impossible scenarios, and I clung to them like a life raft in a tsunami.

My impossible scenario seemed downright possible as the machine began
pounding my pussy with pneumatic precision, perfectly calibrated to hit my
G spot as well as a few I don't know if Cosmo has discovered yet. I soon
climbed up to the dizzying heights of decadent hedonism I had reached
earlier, foolishly believing them to be a pinnacle...but as the cock kept
fucking me, the explosive force of my orgasms took me past escape velocity
and into outer space...the hot friction fueled my ascent as I came faster
and faster, my soul shooting like a comet as every atom in my body vibrated
in a harmonic Hallelujah...blazing past Heaven and into realms of pleasure
undreamt of by mere mortals. In other words...I came...a lot...more than
the Surgeon General's recommended daily dose. I was more than high on my
own body, I was overdosing. Whatever they had done to me had made me
infinitely more susceptible to pleasure...with an emphasis on the
infinite. On my journey to the edge of the universe and beyond, I had all
the time in the world to ponder the indecipherable whispers surrounding me
like a blanket of light. Whatever they were saying, I felt safe and calm as
I listened, like an infant in her mother's womb, absorbing the sacred
truths of the universe in my cosmic egg...and I could have gone on like
that forever...that is until the whispers turned to screams...

I still couldn't tell what the voices where screaming, but I knew that they
were angry. I felt guilt unlike anything I'd ever experienced before
gnawing at my soul. If the earlier whispers were letting me know that it
was good to be fucked, the screams were telling me it was bad to cum
without permission. I remember being scolded before, a room full of sissies
mocking me as I lost sissy chicken to my own slave...the humiliating sting
of my bratty step-brother, Dale, blackmailing me, buggering me, and then
berating me for being a selfish sissy and cumming first...my final eruption
as a man sealing my sticky fate as a slave...and now Contessa, punishing me
for being a greedy little pig. It brought all of my insecurities flooding
back...I had always believed the world owed me everything...and then one
day I learned that not only do I owe the world everything, I have nothing
to offer. A failure as a man, becoming a sissy wasn't a point of pride like
with some of the other girls, it was an escape attempt...one I botched when
I agreed to become a slave in a moment of weakness. Now the only thing I
had left, the only thing that mattered, was being the best slave I could
be...and before I even started I had already failed by being the weak
willed spineless brat I always had been.

Of course, none of this guilt stopped me from cumming. Not by a long
shot. My body was an insatiable little cock pig. No matter how violently my
mind retched in self disgust, I couldn't deny the irresistible bliss of
being force fed orgasms until I burst...and burst...and burst. But unlike
my earlier escapes into superego destroying euphoria, the guilt gnawing at
me only grew more vicious the fuller I got. I tried to cry out knowing
there was no one to here me...to beg for mercy I knew I didn't
deserve...but I couldn't find the words. How could I beg to be fucked
harder and to stop at the same time? Was it weaker to give into the voice
of conscience I wasn't even sure was mine? Or was it weaker to give into my
basest desires and eagerly accept my role as a fuck pig? Honestly if I
could have done one or the other, I wouldn't have cared. It was being
caught in the maelstrom I couldn't endure, but even though it was
unbearable, all I could do was wait for it to end.

Time was always a tricky thing when I was getting fucked...moments could
stretch into infinity and hours could melt away like butter in a hot
skillet. And in a place where the concept of time was forbidden, things
grew even more strange, the absurdity taking root to the point that Hell
grew from an abstract analogy into a very real, very physical place. Hell
didn't need a lake of fire or demons or the tortures of the damned. Hell
was the place you ended up when you had nowhere else to run...Hell was
facing yourself and not being able to turn away. Hell wasn't other
people...Hell was being given exactly what I wanted...forever, and
realizing how terrible my appetites were...

By the time I was finally released, I had run out of tears...or any other
fluids for that matter. I shivered uncontrollably as I collapsed to the
ground, my limbs useless and rubbery, my skin dripping with sickly
sweat. My mouth dry, only just able to mouth the words "I'm sorry" over and
over again. If Contessa noticed, she gave no sign of it...cruelly dragging
me by the leash back out into the hall...forcing me back onto all fours as
my limbs came alive in brilliant flashes of pain. Everything hurt...the
mere absence of endorphins flooding my body sent me into orgasm withdrawal
the emptiness filled only with jagged sobs. I kept pleading for
forgiveness, but I couldn't form the words, I was terrified I would never
recover, that I had become brain damaged and broken, a defective sissy. I
wondered if she was leading me to the incinerator or the slaughterhouse...I
prayed for either...anything that would bring an end to the pain. But most
of all, I prayed for forgiveness...I doubt she heard me. And if she did,
I'm certain she didn't care...

Instead of my end, we returned to the place where our relationship
began. She led me back into the showers, tying my leash to a ring on the
wall I can only assume was designed for that very purpose. Then, as if
turning a hose on a pig covered in her own shit, she turned the shower on
full blast, saying, "You missed dinner while you were being 'fed', so
bedtime can't be far off. Try not to make a pig of yourself before you turn
in. If Isabella nags me for your sloppiness, then I'll take it out of your
ass...and not in a way you'll enjoy."

She didn't give me a chance to respond, not that I would have been capable
of a response anyway. No, all I could do was let the water crash down on
me, washing off all evidence of the filth festering inside me and allowing
me to pretend my tears were only the water hitting my cheeks. That is how
she left me, leaving me to sway back and forth under the empty caress of
warm water, convinced I'd never get clean. My only consolation was that
things probably couldn't get worse...or at least not before bedtime. But of
course I was wrong...because Contessa had sent Bambi and Sakura to fetch me
and 'tuck me in'...

"Aww look at thew widdle piggy. She is like a gagillion times cuter than
that Charlotte's Web piggy." I blushed at the bitchslapped compliment,
staring up at the kewpie doll with a mix of fear and lust. I thought I had
her pegged, what with her cotton candy pink hair...which I could only guess
was her petulant reaction to having another blonde join the harem...it was
spun into girlish pigtails and only added to her porcelain fuck doll
allure. Her baby doll make up accented her fair skin and her long lashes
fanned her bright blue eyes, giving a look of demure innocence, but it only
took one look at the way her Clara Bow lips curled into a hungry smile to
make me worry about the easy confidence that carried her closer to me with
every bouncing step.

I turned to Sakura for support, hoping the kindness I showed her when I was
still a Master would be returned now that I was a sissy, but she wouldn't
meet my eyes. She was humility personified, shamefully looking down at her
maryjane shoes, the archetypal Japanese schoolgurl, her ivory skin painted
like a geisha with her bright red blush. I noticed that she was being led
by the hand by Bambi, and I realized I wasn't going to get any help from
her. She was obviously Bambi's bitch...which meant that Bambi wasn't the
obedient little girl I had imagined. I thought I had her pegged, but it was
beginning to look like she would be pegging me instead. Her voice bubbled
out in sing-song mockery as she walked towards the faucet, teasing "This
little piggy went to the white slave market, and this little piggy never
went home, this little piggy got spit-roasted, and this little piggy
went..."

"EEEEEEE! EEEEE! EEEEEEE!" Icy cold water cut into me like countless tiny
shards of glass. I scurried away from the water on all fours, Bambi
laughing behind me as she aimed the shower head at me and hand on the cold
water tap with a kung fu grip. She giggled as she watched me try to escape
from the jets of icy water while still tethered to the ring by my leash. I
finally gave up running, instead crawling through the shivery shower to
kneel at her feet, begging her to stop...

"Oh Pooh...don't tell me you can't take a joke. You aren't going to be like
Sakura are you? Pwetending you hate being my gurlfriend while secretely
wuving every minute?" Thankfully she had turned off the water, but I
couldn't stop shaking. Not just because of the cold...but because I looked
up to see the anguish in Sakura's almond eyes as she tried to avoid my
gaze. I had no doubt that what Bambi considered a gurlfriend, most would
consider a prison bitch.

I surprised myself with a lack of self preservation, more concerned for
Sakura's well being. I didn't know where this sudden selfless streak was
coming from, but I didn't want to scare myself away from it, so I just
blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "How dare you? Can't you see
she's suffering? How would you feel if you were stolen from you homeland
and forced to come to a strange land where you barely spoke the language?
Don't you know how important honor is to the Japanese? You're lucky she
hasn't committed seppuku." I felt a strange sense of relief after getting
it out, as if I had accomplished something even if I was just humiliated
and abused for my efforts...as I was sure I would be. Maybe it didn't
matter what the results were, maybe all that mattered was doing the right
thing despite the consequences. Or at least, that's what I thought until
Sakura spat on me...

"Baka Gaijin! This humble sissy is American as the pie of the apples! I am
very good speaker of English, and I am not a fucking JAP!" I crawled
backwards until I was backed up against the tile wall, trying to get some
distance between me and a suddenly not so submissive Sakura. I couldn't
understand why she was so mad...if she wasn't Japanese, then why did she
dress like that? Why did she talk like that? When Bambi laughingly
explained it to me, I wished I never learned the answer...

"Silly widdle piggy. Don't you know Koreans hate being called Japaneesy?
Espeshually Korean-'merry-cans. 'Sides, it's a total sissy party foul to
bring up who we where before we butterflyed. But you'll understan' why we
talk so siwwy once you've had your grammer and electrocution lessons."
Sakura looked away, tears in her eyes. I couldn't imagine what could
transform someone so completely into a living caricature...but mostly I
hoped she had misspoke when she tried to day 'elocution lessons'...but I
had a gut-punch feeling that she knew exactly what she was saying...

"Hmm...now how should I punish this bad widdle piggy for my makin' my
gurlfriend all sad faced?" Bambi had finally untied my leash, only to wrap
it firmly around her hand and pull me up to my wobbly feet. I knew she
didn't care about Sakura, but she wasn't about to waste an opportunity to
punish me for it. After my marathon session with the fuck machine, I didn't
have the strength left to fight them off...and I wasn't sure I had enough
before that either. So I did what anyone would do when faced with a
hopeless situation...I begged for mercy...

"Please, can't we just be friends? I don't want to hurt you...and I REALLY
don't want to get hurt. Why can't we all just be nice to each other instead
of acting like bimbo bullies?" When I finished my little speech I was on
the verge of tears...it was heartfelt...it was stirring...it was utterly
pointless. Trying to appeal to the humanity of a sissy is like trying to
teach a cat algebra, they'll never understand it and you only look stupid
for trying. The worst part is, I couldn't even blame her...she's not the
one that took every last drop of humanity and rang it out of her like she
was a filthy rag. I wondered how long it would take for me to become as
playfully cruel as her, and if that would make me stronger.

"Of course we can be friends...the bestest of friends. As long as you do
whatever I say, whenever I say it. After all, I'm a pwetty pwincess and
you're just a maid. Of course, if you want to upset the social high-archey,
then you know what you have to do. Beat me at sissy chicken and I'll be
your widdle baby bitch." The way her eyes shined when she challenged me, I
couldn't tell if she was looking forward to winning, or hoping she'd
lose...I doubt she really knew either. She definitely played up her spoiled
little gurl persona...maybe she just wanted to be put in her place with a
hard spanking? I felt my intestines unravel a little as I thought of how a
game of sissy chicken would play out right now. The game was easy enough
and deliciously hard at the same time...all I had to do was rub my clit
against hers and make her cum before I did. Normally, this would be an
exercise in futility, as I have a hair trigger squirt switch, and Bambi
knew it. But what she didn't know was that I had just had every drop of cum
pumped out of me and that no matter how good it felt, all she'd get was a
dry spasm from me. I mulled over my options, I could even challenge Sakura
to a three way match and make both of them my bitches at once. Sure, I'd
still have to kowtow to Contessa and Lola, but that seemed to be the
natural order down in the basement anyway. In one fell swoop I could go
from bottom bunk bitch to head of the free range sissies with two sex
starved bitches to attend to my every dark desire...

That's when I realized I didn't want to make anyone my bitch. Not that I
wanted to be their bitch...okay well maybe a little, but I'd rather have
been their friend. I knew that if I beat them, I'd have to treat them as
cruelly as they planned to treat me, if not crueler. If I didn't, they
would resent me for it and make me their bitch anyway. No one fights more
zealously for the oppressive social order than a sissy...after all, it's
the only way they can justify their fate. But I was different...I don't
know why...maybe I wasn't strong enough...maybe it's because I didn't have
to fight my whole life like most of the other sissies probably had
to...maybe I just felt too much, but I couldn't bear the thought of causing
anyone the kind of pain I'd felt. I only had once choice...I lowered my
head and meekly whispered, "No, Bambi, I don't want to challenge
you. I'll...I'll be your gurlfriend."

"Oh goody cumdrops!" Bambi lifted my gaze to hers and I saw her face light
up with c***d-like glee. She wasn't exactly sadistic, just spoiled. She was
just a big k** in a bimbo's body...which might be scarier than a straight
up sadist. Whatever else she was, she was giddy with dominant delight;
pulling my pink plastic snout off so she could cover my face in soft,
fluttery kisses and suck on my lips like they were candy. I opened my mouth
to moan and her tongue darted in furtively. Even though she was in total
control, her coquettish demeanor remained...she couldn't just take me...no,
she had to tease me, taunt me, make me want to take her...and then pull
away leaving me weak and wanting. I was starting to miss the simplicity of
Contessa's cruelty...

"Okay, Sakura, get this widdle dowwy all dried off and take off my dress so
it doesn't get any of her filth on it. Don't worry, I still wuvvy wuv wuv
my China doll...er I mean my Korean-Merrycan doll. But I wanna play with my
new baby doll..." I blushed as she referred to me as her baby doll...I
wasn't sure how I felt about being a fuck doll's fuck doll...but my clit
knew how it felt...it throbbed embarrasingly in front of everyone. It
didn't help that Sakura's hands were all over me, with only a downy towel
between her nimble little fingers and my soft, squirming skin. And when
Bambi finally stepped out of her taffeta and lace, I really had a hard time
maintaining what little composure I had left. I expected her to have the
same petite proportions as Sakura, but hiding underneath that tight fitting
dress were beautiful bouncing breasts almost the size of my own ridiculous
udders and curves that should have come with a warning sign. I managed to
blush even deeper when she noticed me staring, teasingly cooing, "Aww does
the widdle baby want to nurse on Mommy's titties?" I stared at the ground
and mumbled, unsure of how to respond to her caustic joke. It was only when
she skipped over to me and pulled my head into her bosom that I realized
she wasn't joking...

I couldn't breath...My nose was crushed in between her breasts, I could
smell apple body wash on her skin, my head spun as I struggled for
breath...when she pulled me off just far enough to slip a fat nipple in my
mouth, I didn't even hesitate...I suckled on it like a good little
dolly. I'm not sure if I did it for fear of being suffocated again, or if
the lack of oxygen lowered my inhibitions to allow me to enjoy playing her
kinky little game, but either way I was playing right into her hands.

"Hee hee Oh Emm Gee! You are the keeeeeutist widdle dolly ever! From now on
I'm going to call you Baby Belle and you are going to call me
Mommy...aren't you." She ended her sentence with an ominous period and I
could tell from her tone that I didn't have a choice, and I figured that
with all I'd been put through today, I might as well get my complete and
utter degradation out of the way while I was still on a roll. And of
course, just when I thought things couldn't get any more soul searingly
humiliating, Bambi...sorry, 'Mommy'...found a way to take it to the next
level...

It all started when she told me to sit on her lap and pointed her erect
three inch clit at my well used hole. I could barely feel it slide all the
way up into me, just short of hitting my sugary sweet spot. And I wasn't
the only one feeling frustrated and needy...although I was the only one
whimpering...I was surprised to find that despite all my embarrassing
excess just moments earlier, all it took was a little tickle to make me
hungry for more. What was wrong with me? Were all sissies perpetually
unsatisfied? And if so, was I the only one too weak to endure it? Bambi
didn't offer any answers, but she did offer a solution...one worse than the
problem..."Yipers...you are more stretched out than silly putty left in the
sun all day. Didn't you learn kegel exey-sizes from Izy-bella? Hmm I guess
we'll have to improve-o-vise...Sakura, get over here and let's play sissy
chicken inside this slut's pussy"

I was stunned speechless...and before I could find the words to
protest...or gratitude...Sakura had already slipped in underneath me,
placing her legs over Bambi's and pulling herself closer until their clits
were rubbing against each other like baby snakes cuddling. I couldn't
support my weight for long, my legs were too weak from the earlier
funishment. All I could do was whimper as I slid down onto both of their
cocks...wishing my pussy hurt more than the tiny peck of pain of as it was
slightly stretched to fit two cute little cocks. I was still well lubed
from the cock-o-matic, so they had no trouble quickly getting into a
feverish pace. Their silky soft hips crashed against my ample ass as they
filled me again and again...or almost filled me anyway...

Despite the added girth, they still weren't long enough to hit me hard and
deep as I needed. Part of me was relieved that through no effort of my own,
I would finally be able to resist cumming first like a good sissy
should...the rest of me out-voted that goody goody and just wanted to cum
one more time...okay twelve more times...and twenty three more times
tops. To make matters worse...and things always seemed to get worse...Bambi
and Sakura seemed to forget all about me, making out over my shoulder,
completely ignoring my mouth as I left it gaping like a fish in hopes I'd
be invited to the tongue party. Instead Bambi just giggles between moans at
Sakura's helpless yelping. I felt sorry for Sakura, she obviously felt as
conflicted as me; practically on the verge of tears as she swapped spit
with her 'gurlfriend'. Or was that just part of the package? The shy
schoolgirl that cries when she cums? And if it was, did that mean my own
shame was just a manufactured product feature? I didn't know if that would
be a relief or not, but somehow I doubted it. One thing I could be sure of,
there was no real relief down in the basement...

As if to prove my point, Sakura came first with a wet whimper, and Bambi
soon followed with a fit of manic giggles that verged on screams. And a
mere moment after, they slumped over me sighing, one head on each shoulder,
both caressing my cheeks in what I would have liked to pretend was a loving
embrace. They were already spent and longing for just a little more. I was
astounded as I realized my own seemingly eternal ecstasy must be just as
fleeting in reality. Not that it mattered I suppose...time was meaningless
down in the basement anyway. And as if to prove my point, a series of
piercing alarms brought the sissies to their feet. They dragged me behind
them by the leash, leading me to the bitch barracks. Finally, at long
last...it was bedtime...

As if following some time honored tradition, Bambi and Sakura parted from
me in silence, each going to separate bunks and tucking right into bed. I
scanned the room for Contessa or Lola, not sure if I wanted to find them or
not, but apparently their Masters had need of their services as they were
no where to be seen. So there I stood, shivering and alone in the
encroaching dark, looking over long rows of empty beds, feeling more alone
than I ever had before. That is, until I saw Isabella laying in the far
corner of the room.

I don't know what possessed me to cross over to her. I certainly didn't
expect to be received with open arms. She had made it abundantly,
agonizingly clear that she wanted nothing to do with me. But after all the
changes I woke up to, all the horrors of the day, and the specter of
tomorrow's trials looming over me, I didn't know where else to turn. So
before I knew it, I was kneeling at her bed, not daring to speak, just
staring longingly at her, hoping she wouldn't notice me so that I could
just be close to her a little while longer. When she finally turned around,
I was shocked by what I saw...

A look of genuine concern weighed heavily on her flawless face, giving a
fetching furrow to her brow. I'd seen madness and malice today, enough
mindless passion and poisonous mirth, enough broken psyches and beautiful
facades...but this was the first unquestionably genuine emotion I'd seen
since I woke up in this waking wet nightmare. I don't know if she felt
sorry for me or for what she saw of herself in me. I don't know if she felt
guilty or empathy. All I know is that for a moment she revealed a secret
side of her I doubted anyone had seen for a long time, and she reminded me
that whatever else I was now, I was still a human being too. And just like
that, I felt stupid enough to hope again. And for once, my hope was
rewarded, even if only for a fleeting moment. She beckoned me into her bed,
saying, "If you tell anyone about this, I'll make you suffer in ways you
won't be able to imagine for months yet. And don't get any ideas...I'm only
doing this because I feel a smidgen responsible for your situation, and
only for tonight. Understand?"

I nodded emphatically, practically breaking my neck to make it clear I
understood. Isabella just pulled me close to her and let me d**** my limbs
around her. I felt my skin slide against hers and amazingly I didn't feel
hungry for her cock...holding her, being held by her...that was much more
fulfilling. I laid my head against her breast as she stroked my hair,
singing

"Fa la ninna, fa la nanna
Nella braccia della mamma
Fa la ninna bel bambin,
Fa la nanna bambin bel,
Fa la ninna, fa la nanna
Nella braccia della mamma."

I drifted to sleep in her arms...it had been a good day after all. And who
knew, maybe the next day would be even better. One could always hope...





I was walking in a field, the cool grass crushed softly between my toes,
the sun warm on my skin, the smells of spring were in the air and every
deep breath I took filled my lungs with the promise of a fresh start and
new hope. The sky was a flawless blue and looked clear enough to take a
swim in. Everywhere I turned, all I could see was endless rows of rolling
hills...there wasn't a soul in sight...and yet, for some reason, I didn't
feel frightened or lonely like I usually do by myself. It was as if the sun
herself was watching over me, keeping me company. I felt a whisper tickle
my lips as I put a name to the unseen spirit watching over me..."Isabella"
and I realized why I felt so safe, so hopeful, so loved...

And then I woke up...

I reached out for Isabella, but she was already gone...the tune to "You are
my sunshine" popped into my head and I felt a poignant pang as I understood
the lyrics for the first time. I felt a tear caress my cheek and closed my
eyes, trying to get back to those Elysian Fields one more time...but then I
heard a familiar voice, albeit one much colder than in my dreams..."Get up,
Belle. It's time for breakfast and the Devil himself won't be able to
protect you from me if I get punished for your tardiness."

I bolted out of bed and followed her obediently, unable to take my eyes off
her inviting ass bouncing in her tight red Lycra bodysuit. I wondered about
her outfits. All of the other gurls seemed to fit a certain theme. Baby
doll, school girl, whore, pain slut, and French maid...but she was just a
sissy. I wondered who she was dressing for and what fantasy she was
supposed to fulfill...besides mine of course. I also wondered when I'd get
to wear some clothes of my own, but when I asked timidly, a curt "When
you've earned them." was my only response. I didn't press the issue, not
wanting to anger her after the brief moment of tenderness last night. I had
resolved to be the best sissy I could be, so that maybe she would reward me
with another fleeting sign of affection.

So it was with a spring in my step that I made it to the mess hall...and
one look at my breakfast made the name seem totally appropriate. I had a
steel bowl with my name engraved on it, so far my only possession down
here. It was a thick, sticky porridge of sorts, with the odor of stale oats
and aspirin and the look of glue and vomit. I dug my spoon into it,
cringing as it seemed to fight back, sticking to the bowl as if it knew it
didn't belong inside my mouth. I scanned the room. Sakura and Bambi where
eagerly devouring theirs, as if it were the tastiest meal in the
world. Isabella was sitting in a corner, watching me expectantly as she
slowly took one purposeful bite after another. I didn't want to break my
vow before breakfast, so I closed my eyes and shoveled the biggest bite I
could into my mouth...

I should have started with a smaller bite. As it was, the taste of zoo
smells filled my mouth, sending caustic vapors down my throat which caused
me to gag reflexively...and I didn't know I even had a gag reflex
anymore. But it was to no avail, the slop was too gloppy, too viscous and
sticky to escape so easily. My cheeks ballooned like a chipmunk, tears
welled up in my eyes, I knew I had to force this down soon or risk spitting
it all over the table...and then what would Isabella think? That I was some
spoiled baby probably...and I couldn't have that. So I forced my body to
ignore every instinct of self preservation it had and willed it down my
throat I a slow, torturous slide...when I finally finished the first bite I
gasped for air...then exclaimed, "Ugh! What's in this shit?"

Without looking up from her bowl, Bambi rattled off, "Prolly her-moans,
bee-havey-rool mod'ficashun d**gs, n' deffy some MDMA derivys with a
some-attic ha-lucy-jenny cocktail." Everyone looked at her in stunned
silence, not sure if she was experience a moment of brilliance, or
babble. She seemed just as confused, looking down and blushing and
muttering, "Or sumthin like that..." As out of place as it sounded coming
from her pouty lips, I had to admit she was onto something. The single bile
inducing bite I had taken was already making me feel a little swimmy...and
a lot horny. So I did what any sensible sissy would do when she discovered
her food was d**gged with all sorts of mind melting mixtures...I started
wolfing it down. That might seem counter-intuitive, but I knew that they
were going to get their d**gs in me one way or the other...and that they
probably already had a big head start, so why fight it? If swallowing
gag-me-glue was the easy way to take my medicine, I didn't want to find out
the hard way...

Besides, I wasn't about to pass up a chance to get stoned out of my gourd,
not with my first day in training hanging over me like the Sword of
Damocles...and with every foul mouthful I worked down my throat, it only
made more and more sense. It became a kind of perverse contest with myself
to see how quickly I could finish it, ignoring every screaming cry my taste
buds made to stop, bullying my gullet into gorging on semi-soft sludge,
practically chewing it back down as it attempted to rise up and burst out
of me. Eventually, I went into some sort of auto-pilot, lost in a d**ggy
daze until I half noticed I was licking the bowl...I put down the bowl and
looked up, shame faced to see everyone staring at me in slack jawed
surprise. "Please forgive this impudent sissy, Bambisan, but it looks like
Bellekun just beat your record."

Bambi just glared at me as the shock wore off and the petty jealousy seeped
in. I knew I was going to pay for that, but at the moment I was too light
headed to care. I just smiled dumbly and drifted over to Isabella to see
where I was supposed to go next. I hoped that I might have made Isabella
proud, or at least less disdainful, but if she was impressed one way or the
other, she didn't let it show. She had the world's best Strip Poker face,
and I always felt like I was holding my cards the wrong way with her. I was
relieved when she finally popped the pregnant silence, even if it was to
chastise me..."While that was certainly amusing, it's not how we clean our
dishes here. Take your bowl to the sinks at the end of the room and make it
squeaky clean. You won't have anyone picking up after you down here. You
won't have long before your morning workout, so don't dawdle. We already
have our training regimens set, but you'll be meeting with a personal
trainer. And trust me, Belle, you don't want to make him wait for you."

I nodded like a good little sissy and darted over to my table, only to see
Bambi and Sakura had left me their dishes too. Of course...I was the
bitches' bitch...it figured I'd have to clean after them too. Or maybe it
didn't, but in my docile state, it only seemed fitting, even just. So
without a whimper of complaint, I ran as fast as my dainty feet would carry
me and started scrubbing the dishes. It was a lot harder than I imagined it
would be, the glop just didn't want to come off, no matter how hard I
scrubbed. So I turned the heat up as high as it would go, only to scald my
delicate skin. I was so surprised that I chipped a nail, feeling hot
needles of pain dig into the soft flesh below my fingernail. Whatever was
in my breakfast, it wasn't a pain killer...I felt everything as if I was
stone cold sober, or possibly even more keenly...but I had to push
through. Angry blaring beeps announced it was time for my workout, and I
was still on the first bowl. I gritted my teeth, worked through the pain,
and rang every ounce of strength out of my puny arms, putting as much force
into scrubbing as I could. When I finally finished with the last bowl, I
let out an exuberant squeal...and then I remembered I was late and let out
a panicked eep...

I ran to my class so fast that I practically left a sissy-shaped dust cloud
in my wake. It was only when I was almost there that I realized I knew
where to go without anyone telling me. Did I remember from my first guided
tour/threat with my step-father? That seemed doubtful...I was never very
good with directions...or with anything else for that matter. I wondered if
they had somehow put a map in my head of where I was supposed to go...and I
wondered whether I should be relieved or horrified by the thought. Either
way, I didn't have time to dwell on it, because I was 100% certain I didn't
want to keep my trainer waiting one millisecond longer than I had to. My
legs had turned to blown out rubber, my lungs where filled with battery
acid, my sides where being cut into with jagged glass. By the time I
crashed through gym doors, I didn't even have the strength to stand. I fell
to the ground in an anguished heap, struggling to form a pitiful attempt at
an apology. That's when I heard the familiar voice of my step-brother,
Dirk, "Damn, Belle. If just getting here is too much exercise for you, then
you're really going to hate what comes next..."

I looked up to see him smirking down at me, and I didn't know what alarmed
me more, the thought of him using his towering physique to punish me, or
the fact that I couldn't stop slavering over his towering physique. On one
hand it made sense, I was a sissy after all, and he was as far from it as
you could get. A wide frame chiseled by a Greek god to show us mere mortals
how they really looked...a face with strong, almost brutish features that
stopped just shy of buffoonish and went all the way into devastatingly
handsome...a fat cock straining in his speedos even while soft...one I knew
could tear me up if he was so inclined, but one I couldn't forget since he
it stretched me to my limits. But it was so confusing, I was still getting
used to being a sissy I suppose, but everything I used to hate about Dirk
was what I found irresistible now...his arrogance, his terrifying strength,
even his nearly mindless obsession with sex...because that's what I was
obsessed with too. On the other hand, I was late to my first appointment
as a sissy, and I was sure he would jump at the chance to punish me...

Instead he peeled me off the ground and held my chin in his hand, drawing
my fearful gaze up to his burning eyes, "Oh don't look so terrified. I'm
not going to punish you. Frankly I'm happy to leave that part of the job to
the experts. Besides, the workout will be punishment enough for a soft,
spoiled brat like you...but damn if they didn't carve you into a fuckable
soft, spoiled brat. Tell you what, if you do a good job, maybe I'll give
what you're too embarrassed to beg for." I blushed and tried to look away,
but he held me firmly, his stare penetrating past my meager defenses,
seeing clearly how badly I wanted him...I cursed myself for having such
terrible taste in Master's, but resolved to be the best little gym bunny I
could be.

"Alright, now we're going to start with the most important exercise for any
sissy..." I let out a satisfied squeal as Dirk shoved two of his thick
fingers inside my pussy. I melted into his arms, laying my head against his
chest, smelling his sweat through his tight tank top...it smelled like
Heaven's locker room. I squeezed around his digits, sending pulses of
pleasure throughout my hungry flesh. "That's a good sissy...squeeze
down...now relax...and squeeze again. If you don't practice your Kegel
exercises daily, you won't stay taut and tight for all your new
boyfriends...and no one wants to fuck a blown out sissy, do they, Belle?"

"NoOOOoooOOoohhh" I moaned earnestly, working my hardest to milk a creamy
orgasm from his fingers,,,and improve my physique of course. But he pulled
his delicious digits out of me with a depressing plop and told me to do it
on my own. Three seconds clenched, then three seconds relaxed...over and
over again until I feel pains in muscles I didn't even know I had in my
ass. But I took deep breaths and kept my eyes on the prize...or prick as
the case may be. After all, if my pussy was tighter, Dirk's cock would feel
that much bigger...

"Alright, that's long enough for now. But I want you to repeat those
exercises three times a day." I nodded meekly and shifted nervously from
one leg to the other. Every since he said I might get fucked at the end of
our session, it was all I could think about. I was a little embarrassed at
how quickly I went from being conflicted to being consumed with lust, but
of course being humiliated only seemed to make me hornier. I was all but
drooling as I waited to hear what he had in store for me next, and I only
managed that much restraint by focusing every ounce of my meager little
will. When he told me what I'd be doing next, my mouth dried up
immediately. "You might have noticed all the sissies down here have very
different physiques, or maybe you were too busy staring at their clits, but
I'm getting off topic...the point is you gurls are all carefully packaged
products. I let the egg heads deal with filling the insides up and the
artists apply the cosmetic touches, but I have the most important job. I
make sure the products can actually perform as advertised. So you see that
bar over there..." he pointed to one of those bars ballet students use to
make those impossible leg stretches, I swallowed a gulp sideways as I
realized he wanted me to make one right now..."You don't have to be toned
or slim like the other sissies, in fact we want you soft and supple as you
can be...but you will have to be much, much more flexible. So get that leg
up on that bar and start taking knees with the other leg...by the time I'm
done with you, you'll be more flexible than one of those Canadian acrobats
pretending to be a Frenchy."

I don't know why I even bothered to try, I knew I was destined to fail. I
was so weak, so uncoordinated, so completely and utterly useless...but I
was also desperate enough for Dirk's dirk to ignore all that and rely on my
pathological capacity for hope when there is absolutely no evidence to
justify it. I swished over to the bar, making sure Dirk got at least two
eyefuls of my creamy curves, and took a deep breath...I cleared my head,
pushing out all the doubts and fears and logic and left only one
ridiculously stupid thought...I can do this. Then, something even stupider
happened...I lifted my leg up and over the bar and brought it down
slowly...I just stared, struck dumb...as if I was watching someone else. I
couldn't do that...it was impossible! But there I was...doing it with
ease...okay, not with ease, every muscle in my body felt like an old
rubberband seconds away from snapping at any second. Was that the only
reason I couldn't do it before? My own insecurities and fear of failure or
was it my all consuming desire to avoid even momentary discomfort that kept
me from discovering my body's true abilities? Whatever it was, I was free
from it now, and I was giddily gritting my teeth through the pain, giggling
between grunts as I pumped up and down faster and faster, tossing my head
over my shoulder to give Dirk an inviting look...

"Damn! You're actually good at something, Belle...I'm seeing it and I can't
believe it. But let's see how flexible you really are..." What followed
should have been an excruciating torture session with Hell's own personal
trainer and I guess in a way it was. I mean it hurt worse than any imagined
pain I'd ever cringed and cowered from; my body burning and aching, with
searing pain stabbing across my joints as I twisted from side to side and
back to forward. I felt like I was being stretched out on the rack, only
with me gleefully turning the wheel. I couldn't understand it, probably
because it didn't make any sense. I hated pain...I mean, it hurt...so why
was I so eager to bend over backwards for Dirk...literally? I didn't really
have to ask...even if it made no sense, it felt like the most natural thing
in the world. I wasn't even doing it for the promise of sex anymore. I just
wanted to make Dirk proud of me. Of course, 'proud' takes on a completely
different definition in The Basement...one that involves dehumanizing
degradation and servile submission...but one that also involves being good
at something...making someone happy. I never realized how important that
was to me until I started trying it for the first time. It was addicting. I
almost felt guilty. There was no way Dirk got nearly the same joy in
domination than I did in surrender. It was almost like I was ripping him
off...which only motivated me to give him that much more...

I finally fell to the floor in a sob of frustration, reaching my limit as I
was just an inch away from sucking my own clit...of course if it had been
even average size it would have been easier. I tried to will the life back
into my limbs, but they weren't taking anymore requests at the moment,
probably ignoring me because I bullied them so mercilessly to bend and
twist to my will. I was furious with them, and even angrier at myself...I
was so close to proving myself to Dirk, and now I was just another
worthless pile of sissy of the floor. Just as I was about to squirm over to
Dirk and suck his toes as way of apology, I felt his strong arms wrap
around me, pulling me up so that my feet touched the ground, but holding me
tight so that I wouldn't just crumple to the ground. I braced myself for
the worst, ready to accept his disgust and disdain as my due, but when I
looked up into his eyes, I saw something completely different...

"There, there...I've got you. And don't look so crushed. You did great for
your first day. You're a natural born sissy after all. In fact...I think
you deserve a reward." His expression was almost kind as he leaned towards
me, it almost tempered the fire burning in his eyes, almost but not
quite...I still melted under their heat. He didn't so much kiss me as
swallow my mouth, forcing his thick tongue inside me and fucking my throat
with it. One of his hands dropped to my ass, fully cupping one of my cheeks
and massaging a moan out of it. I felt the strength returning to my limbs
even as he made me feel so helpless in soft in comparison to him. It was
all I could to lift one a silky soft leg around around his hard back and
wrap it around, embracing him. My arms had a better idea, one slinked it's
way up to caress his Adonis-like abs and the other found itself stroking
his blazing red hair, the heat almost too much to stand. I was beginning to
see what Lola saw in Dirk, and for the first time, I was jealous of her...

When he slid three fingers up my ass...to test the results of my exercises
no doubt...I began writhing against him, rubbing my hard little worm
against the leviathan in his shorts. My breasts crushed against his chest,
my nipples tracing out his flesh as if they were marking their territory,
exquisite pain running through them, sweet and sharp like a toothache your
tongue keeps lingering back to. It send Morse code moans down to my pussy,
making it throb back a response of 'Oh God yes...forever and for always
yes..." Then Dirk pulled his tongue out of my throat, a whimper snaking its
way out to try and pull him back in, but changing to a perverse prayer of
thanks as his mouth latched around my swollen breast instead. I don't know
if it was my body or the d**gs...or if the d**gs where what did this to my
body in the first place...or if it was all in my head...or if it was my
heart that was lying...because in this chaotic storm of questions and
doubts one thought kept striking through clearly...I love him...I love him
I love him...

I don't know why I was so hard on Dirk before. He's not a monster...he's
just passionate. Sure he can be rough, but that's just because he doesn't
know his own strength. And granted, can be arrogant and overbearing, even
something of a bully...but he doesn't mean anything by it. It's just the
testosterone talking, you have to expect a little aggressiveness from a
real alpha male. And Dirk was definitely all man...I could feel all ten
inches of him, thick and throbbing against my soft stomach...with a cock
that big he had earned the right to. I longed to feel him inside me, to
lube it lovingly with my tongue and feel it stretch me out to my very limit
again...only this time bringing me to the pinnacle of pleasure instead of
pain. I was just about to fall to my knees and beg him to let me worship
his cock when I heard the hateful blaring of the alarm telling me it was
time for my next class. "Oh no...not now. Pleeeeease...please let me stay
just a little longer..."

Dirk let me fall to my knees, staring up at his salacious smirk..."Fuck,
Belle, you've got it bad haven't you? I feel like I should cock block you
for old times sake, really leave you humiliated and horned up, but to be
honest, I'd much rather fuck a dozen screaming orgasms out of you. And
don't worry, I'm not one of those guys with a hang up about a sissy cumming
before me. Hell, I like knowing I can make a bitch squirt until she's
dehydrated." I listened with rapt attention; my imagination running wild
with such vivid thoughts that I could practically feel him inside me. But
practically wasn't enough...I needed more. But that's when he let the other
foot drop...right on my throat..."Of course, I won't be the one getting
punished for your tardiness. The choice is up to you...do you want to get
fucked like the filthy slut you are, or do you want to go to your next
lesson like a good little sissy?"

Was that a rhetorical question? I mean...who wouldn't rather get fucked
like the filthy little slut they are? I realized he was toying with
me...that this was just another game or test or whatever they wanted to
call it. They couldn't just fuck me and be done with it or just brainwash
me so I'd be an obediently little sissy. No, they played these perverse
pranks instead...I didn't understand why they had to go to all the
trouble. I'd already surrendered. I was helpless, so why did they need to
play these elaborate games of cat and mouse...or maybe it's because I was
helpless...they didn't have to do this, it was just more fun. I had to
revise my opinion on what a cuddly studdly teddy bear Dirk was...but that
didn't stop me from pulling down his gym shorts or shrieking in in giddy
surprise when his cock popped out and plopped me in the face.

If I had thought it through, I probably would have just gone to my next
lesson. After all, I was being trained to be the ultimate sissy whore, so I
was going to get plenty of chances to get filled up with ooey gooey
orgasms...but with a hard cock stroking my soft cheek, the only thing I
could think about was how I was going to manage to fit my lips around
it. When I felt his cock laying on top of my face as I suckled on his
balls, its weight making me feel so weak and small in comparison...when I
tasted the salty sweat and manly musk of his massive balls, so big I had to
take them one at a time...when I saw the look of all consuming lust in his
eyes and the cocky smile of a conqueror on his lips, I knew I made the
right decision. I knew I was where I belonged...

"That's a good little sissy...get me nice and wet for that tight little
pussy of yours. I don't want to hurt you this time...well not too much
anyway. You know what they say...no pain, no gain". It was a cliche, but he
seemed deeply profound at the time...and I did so want to gain. I ran my
tongue slowly up his cock, the taste sizzling on my tongue, the silky
smooth texture only making the hardness underneath feel more enticingly
intimidating. I'd never sucked one this big before, I was trying to tease
him, to really take my time in drooling over every inch of his
cock...giving slow, loving, wet kisses with just the slightest flicker of
tongue...but it was getting to be too much for me. I felt like I was
teasing myself, torturing myself with every second I didn't have his cock
in my mouth. And just when I couldn't take it anymore...when I had to
surrender to my own selfish hunger...when I had to admit I was too weak to
even stand up to myself...when I was just about wrap my plump, pouty lips
around his throbbing manhood...that's when he had an ever better idea on
how to torture me...

"Daaaaayum! Well you certainly don't need lessons on how to worship a
cock. You're ready to graduate something cum something...damn I always fuck
that one up. Oh well, I didn't have to graduate top of my class to train
sissies for a living. Besides, I'm still full of bright ideas. For
instance, why don't you wrap those new melons of yours around my cock and
give me a good old fashioned tit-fuck?" I wanted to wrap my lips around it
instead, but by the tone of his voice, I could tell it was another
rhetorical question. And to be honest, I almost liked the frustration as
much as the satisfaction. It was sick, I know, but a part of me got off on
being used for a real man's pleasure and being denied my own. It was pure
Hell, feeling the agony of pleasure denied, languishing in lust as the
fruits of sweet, juicy release are so tantalizingly close, ready to burst
in your mouth and then snatched away cruelly. Yes, it was pure Hell...but
it felt so good getting that close...and that sick, masochistic part of me
secretly longed for it to be pulled away at the last minute...because I
knew I deserved the punishment, and because I was too weak to deny myself.

That's how I found the soft, insanely sensitive flesh of my breasts closing
in around his fat prick instead of my lips...how I felt his hot muscle
flexing in my cleavage as I pushed by breasts together painfully tight and
started sliding them up and down in opposite directions. A frantic friction
built up as I slid them faster and faster, the heat sinking into my skin
and entering my bloodstream. It was starting to feel less like a punishment
and more like a reward...I had been afraid to really play with my new
breasts once I discovered how sensitive they were. But with Dirk's thick
manhood throbbing between them as it slid with spit-slicked speed, I was
grateful for their sensitivity...and ready to test their limits. I began
twisting my nipples as I slid my breasts up and down at an increasingly
frenzied pace, the swollen buds of bliss like dials controlling the furnace
burning inside me. I turned them higher and higher, the heat rising from
inside me and radiating out to my florid flesh making it even more
responsive to the white hot iron scalding between them. Instead of teasing
myself, I was reaching a boiling point, letting out a tea kettle squeal of
joy as I felt my first ever titgasm, the sensation of a million pins
tickling my tender flesh, the angels dancing on their heads covering me
with kisses.

At this point, Dirk must have been getting close, because he took
over...thrusting his cock between my breasts while holding onto them for
dear life. I felt more feminine than ever...not only was I fucking a man
with my breasts, I was able to get off on it...and just when I thought
things couldn't get any better, I bobbed my head down at just the right
time, and felt his wide mushroom head slip past my moaning lips. I was too
surprised to give it so much as a friendly peck the first time, but it soon
returned and I was able to give it a quick suckle...it tasted like a stolen
kiss from a succubus...a guilty pleasure that only leaves you hungry for
more. I was drooling all over my breasts, looking like a dick dumb
bimbo...probably because I was a dick dumb bimbo at that point. All I could
think about, if you could even call it thinking, was getting one more sweet
suck of that cock...feel it throb against my tongue one more time...taste
one more dollop of pre-cum, a confusingly familiar concoction somewhere
between chevre and wild oats...hoping the next time would be the time he
finally exploded all over my slutty face...until it finally was...

His cum hit the back of my throat so hard that I swore it shot right to my
brain, his orgasmic mix of endorphins and adrenaline coating my brain and
sending it into overdrive, making a very convincing argument that I was the
one cumming, sending a double dose of that capital "O" organic compound to
spread the good news throughout my body. I writhed on my knees as his seed
proved to hearty for my greedy gullet, spilling down my chin and onto my
heaving breasts. Every inch his cum hit sang out in vicarious euphoria,
until my own meager clit was squirting a thin little stream of its own. As
long as he shot thick ribbons across my upturned face and bountiful breasts
I could feel the Moan Express rolling through me, shaking me to the
core. But even a true alpha stud like Dirk had to run dry eventually,
leaving his taste lingering as a teasing reminder long after my buzz had
faded. It must have been at least an interminable five minutes before I was
able to recuperate well enough to realize the mistake I'd just made. I
cried out, "Oh no! I wanted to get fucked! Please, Dirk, please tell me you
can get hard again and fuck me!" I begged more to God than Dirk...because
it would take a miracle for him to get an erection after unleashing that
much baby batter. I had a feeling God wasn't taking my calls anymore, and
it probably wasn't a request he would look to kindly on anyway, but for
some reason, I still managed to hope for a miracle, even when every day was
another brutal reminder that they didn't exist.

And then, a miracle happened...Dirk exclaimed, "Hah Hah hah! Of course I
can, Belle. What'd you think I was, a sissy? Now you just get that leg back
up over that stretch bar and get me nice and hard again..." I couldn't
believe my luck...I began scooping Dirk's pooled cum off my breasts with my
fingers and sucking it off my dainty fingers, wanting to be clean so he
could defile me again. But Dirk stopped me, saying, "I didn't tell you to
clean up, slut. I want you to remember what kind of greedy little fuck pig
you are, so the cum stays." I snorted once for yes and scurried over to the
bar, leaving any dignity or self respect I might have had behind me like
bread crumbs for him to follow me home.

For a moment I did think of how much later this would make me and how much
more trouble I would be in, but that only made me long even more
desperately for the euphoric escape of mindless a****l rutting. With one
leg stretched out over the ballet bar and the other spread as far from it
as possible, my pussy was completely exposed and vulnerable, just how I
liked it. I felt one of Dirk's powerful hands close around my throat and
another around my breast, kneading it with violent affection. I wasn't sure
which was more dangerous...or more exciting...either way I was breathless
and eager for more. And more is exactly what I got, almost more than I
could handle, more than I knew I deserved. But Dirk was the generous sort,
feeding his full length to my taut and trained hole. He slid in with ease,
and I realized he must have added some extra lube to compliment what was
left of my spit. At the time, it seemed so romantic, the nicest thing
anyone had ever done for me...a declaration of love. "I know you were
probably hoping for it raw again, but I almost got dick burn last time, so
I had to add some more lube this go around." Then again, some people say 'I
love you' in different ways...

Dirk said I love you in a much more tangible way, by slowly stretching out
my asshole as his his veiny cock pulsed to the beat of his heart, sending
his heart closer and closer to mine with every push. By the time he was all
the way inside me, I could tell he loved me very much. One leg was still
arched high on the bar and the other wobbly from exertion and lust...I felt
like any moment I could collapse, but he took me into his arms, surrounding
me with his rippling muscles. His hands cupped my breasts, practically
mauling them, painful throbs of pleasure surged through me with every beat
of my heart. It was like he was holding his heart in my hands, and every
time he squeezed, I felt my pussy close tighter around his heartbeat. And
when I felt him throb against my ooey gooey g-spot, my heart burst
releasing a flood of pure love, the sheer force of the torrential rush of
bliss wearing me down to a tiny nub, washing me away. And then things got
worse...and so much better...

The gnawing pangs of guilt started in on me, eating away at my soul,
telling me how wrong it was to be late, to cum like a little fuck pig
instead of putting my Master first...but then Dirk's massive meat fed my
emptiness, sweet stabs of pain like needles filled with honey and heroin
filled my pussy as he pounded away at me. His girth both a burden and
blessing as I struggled to accommodate him, pain wrestling pleasure in a
nude Greco-Roman grudge match, and pleasure was going for the pin. My skin
was covered in a slick sheen of sweat, every muscle tense and taut...I was
slippery as an eel in his arms, but he held me tight, and as long as he
held me close and whispered sweet nothings in my ear, he kept the demons of
guilt and despair away, saying, "That's my filthy little slut, my deposit
only sperm bank. God damn, but don't you look beautiful when the light
shines on your cum covered face. Cum for me, you stupid cunt...show me how
much you love my fat fucking cock!"

And I did, a sickly drool of sissy milk dribbling from my clit, running
down my wobbly leg as my other spasmed in place like a bitch relieving
herself. Lewd, obscenely honest cries drooled out of my throat, his cock so
fat it didn't leave room for all the dirty thoughts filling my
head. "Pleeeeease, fuck me harder! Bully my weak little pussy with your big
strong cock! Make me your little sissy bitch slave! Oh fuck...I think...oh
shit...I love....oOOOoooOOooooh!" All that came out after that was
incoherent moans...the language of love. Dirk turned my head and claimed my
mouth with his own, pumping his love inside me from both ends, his other
hand still kneading my breasts like wet dough, melting my heart all over
his sticky fingers, bringing them to my mouth and replacing his tongue,
letting me suck them clean...my heart tasted suspiciously like his cum,
more proof that we were destined to be together. He had turned me into
nothing more than a willing receptacle for his love, a shapely fuck vase, a
cum jug...and with his hot flesh hitting every sweet spot in my pussy at
once, that felt the highest calling I could ever aspire to. But even that
proved too great a task, the power and volume of his love was too great, my
fragile frame was too weak to hold it all, and I could feel excess love
running down my chin as I drooled dumbly, caressing my curves in fat beads
of sweat as his love seeped through my pores, even burning up into gas and
exploding from my body in a shrill scream. I couldn't even call them
multiple orgasms at this point, or even one long continuous one...I was an
orgasm, a meager reflection of his pure, perfect love. And just when I
swore it couldn't get any better if God himself tagged in to fuck me from
behind...it got so much better...and then so much worse than I ever
imagined...

The truest, purest expression of his love filled my raw, ravished hole and
seeped into my bloodstream through busted capillaries, traveling to heart
and head and mutating them, making my heart beat only for him, making every
thought of him...making me a living valentine to Dirk. I fell back into his
arms as he lowered me to the floor, his love still hard and oozing inside
me, feeling so small and safe in his embrace...and then feeling the cold
hard reality as he dropped me unceremoniously to the floor. "Urk!" a hurt,
a****l whimper was forced from my lungs as the air was knocked out of
me. My puppy luv buzz was fading fast, replaced by sore muscles and
stabbing regret, reminding me I was all too real. If I was a reflection of
his love, it was only symbolically...filthy, fleeting, and quickly
forgotten. The crystal clarity of a hard cum down cut into me deep, letting
me see Dirk as he really was...

He leered down at me with smug satisfaction, an awful look of amused
disgust dripping from his face along with the sweat of his full body
workout. He didn't love me, he wasn't capable of it...well not in any
meaningful sense. He loved me the way he loved a good steak...I existed for
his enjoyment, and it didn't matter if I was left chewed up, degraded and
digested, and expelled from his warmth. I realized that all the love I had
felt for him was a lie, that I had been seeing him with cum coated glasses,
creating the Dirk I wanted...no needed...the Dirk that I could love without
shame or regret. And now that I saw he was just a wet dream, all of the
feelings I tried to push away came rushing in to devour me.,,and Dirk just
watched, laughing at the cum catching cliche. I tried to put my sobs
together to form a coherent sentence, but I couldn't think over the blaring
of the alarms...and that's when the other foot dropped...squishing me like
a bug...

"Come with us, sissy!" gloved hand reached down for me and dragged me away
from Dirk's contemptuous smirk. I might have forgotten the alarm in my
mindless rutting and morose regret, but apparently they hadn't. 'They'...it
seemed the only appropriate name for them...two total strangers, cloaked in
shiny black rubber from head to toe, floor lab coats, gloves, and a skull
cap tight cowl. Their eyes were two empty caverns formed by dark mirrored
shades...the only flesh on them was their mouth, tight lipped grimaces
stretched over powerful jaws. I wondered what kind of messes they had to
clean up in those get ups, and immediately regretted my curiosity, bloody
screaming images flooding my head. I spent the rest of the long slide
towards certain doom trying to imagine anything else, with less and less
success. By the time I reached my destination: a bland, featureless room,
empty save for the chair I was rudely tossed into and strapped down in, I
was reducing to a whimpering stream of unintelligible apologies...

After they made sure I was completely helpless, they left me alone...or so
I thought. A voice rang out behind me, "Good morning, Belle. I see
punctuality isn't one of your strong suits. Of course, we haven't found any
strong suits yet, but that's what we're here for. Now, we'll take care of
your tardiness after the lesson, so let's get started with your French
lessons." I strained my head, but I couldn't turn it far enough to get a
look. He was only a disembodied voice to me, but instead of making him seem
weightless or intangible, he became more substantial...filling my
imagination until he was a homunculus of every nightmare I ever had
stitched together into a shambling mess...a nightmare with an eerily
soothing voice. Soothing...and familiar...like the sound of my conscience.

I tried to figure out what was going on, managing a stammering, "buh buh
But I don't nuh nuh know any French." I heard a soft, gentle laugh behind
me that chilled me to the bone. It was strangest thing...his voice was so
kind, but some how that made him even more terrifying than if he was
screaming and snarling. Like he didn't have to try to intimidate me, like
he didn't even care if he scared me or not, because he was going to make me
do whatever he wanted whether I was afraid or not. "Oh you won't learn how
to speak French. Our clients don't want a girl that speaks French, it's
alienating and embarrassing for them when they don't speak French. No, our
clients want a girl that barely speaks English. So we're going to give you
an accent with a smattering of French words with no regard for grammar or
syntax. All you'll have to do is close your eyes, calm down, and let me
start the lesson." All of the sudden, Sakura's broken English and equally
broken Japanese. I didn't want to end up a cartoonish caricature like her
or the others...I tried to resist, tried to keep my eyes open, determined
to struggle to my last. But my lids where so heavy...I had to rest
them...just for a second...

...

"There we go. That wasn't so bad, now was it?" My eyes snapped open a
second later. I didn't know what he was talking about. How could he have
taught me something in a second, especially since he didn't say anything? I
didn't want to make him angry, but I wasn't sure if this was some kind of a
test. If I pretended to learn something and he knew I didn't, I would be in
even more trouble. So I decided to risk a little honesty...

"Non. Eet did not zeem to work. I...Mon Dieu!" I couldn't believe my
ears...I sounded like Pepe Le Pew's girlfriend. "What ees this? How did
zees happen?" I struggled vainly against my bonds, beginning to really
panic...if they could make me sound like that, what else would they do if I
gave them the chance?

"Don't worry, my dear, it's just a little speech therapy, that's all. You
should be proud to be such a fast learner. Now, as for that punishment..."
My heart stopped. I was tied to a chair in a room with a mysterious
stranger that could make me a foreigner in my sleep. I was on the verge of
tears imagining what he could do to me while I was awake. I was helpless,
but strangely, not hopeless. Stupidly, I hoped for another miracle...maybe
he would decide I didn't have to be punished...but of course that was a
futile hope...or so I thought. "Now you don't have to be punished. It's
really up to you. Here at the Harrow House, we pride ourselves in only
training the perfect sissies, and no amount of d**gs, surgery, or hypnosis
can make a perfect sissy if she doesn't want to put in the effort. So,
Belle, the question you have to ask yourself is, do I want to be a perfect
sissy? If you do, go to room 101 after this and accept your punishment. If
not, go take a nap until you hear the next bell signaling the start of your
maid duties. The decision is entirely yours."

The moment he finished talking my bonds snapped open. I told myself it was
a remote controlled latch, but I wasn't convinced. I didn't even have the
courage to turn around, too afraid of what I'd see, or worse, wouldn't. I
heard his voice so clearly, I would have hated to find there was no one
there. Instead I bolted out of the room and down the hall, running anywhere
as long as it was away from that voice. I was already half way there before
I noticed I was running towards room 101. What was I thinking? I didn't
want to be punished...did I? Of course I didn't...but I did want to be the
perfect sissy...so I found myself tentatively knocking on the door to room
101, cursing my conscience and their cruel games, terrified of what I'd see
when I opened the door...trying to tell myself it couldn't possible be as
bad as I imagined it would be. I was wrong...it was worse...

"Belle, it's a pleasure to see you. Both because we've been apart to long
and because I'm proud to see you finally taking responsibility for your
mistakes. We'll make a good sissy slave out of you yet." I was speechless,
staring in shock at my step-brother, Darius, as cold and cruel as Dirk was
passionate and selfish. His sharp features accentuated his cold, piercing
stare, only his burning red hair gave any hint of warmth, and even that was
cut close to his scalp. He towered over me as the tallest member of his
family, and with me only a little over five feet, he cut quite the imposing
figure. I looked away, hoping to find something less terrifying to look
at, but all I saw were walls lines with all manner of torture
devices. Spiked paddles, whips, chastity devices, and in the corner, a
portable generator with prongs for electrocuting naughty little
sissies. Once I saw that my heart sunk...I knew without a doubt, that would
be the punishment he chose. I wanted to be brave, wanted to be a good gurl
and take my punishment, but I couldn't stop from blubbering, "I'm suh suh
sorry! Puh puh please forgive me!"

Darius wore an expression between mock concern and boredom. "But of course
you're sorry, Belle, otherwise you wouldn't have volunteered for
punishment. Only, and I'm sure this isn't the case, I hope you don't think
an apology is currency you can use to buy your way out of
punishment. Because as a slave, you don't have any currency, any control,
the only real choice you have is how hard you're willing to work to
surrender completely...what you're willing to sacrifice to be the perfect
slave." The guilt grew more and more vicious as his words sank into me, and
the more my shame fed, the hungrier it got. It got to the point that
punishment seemed like the easy way out compared to living with the hollow
hurt of knowing I was a failure as a sissy. "In fact, since this is your
first time being disciplined, I'm going to let you pick what device I use
to serve your just desserts. I promise I will use whatever you select, and
I won't administer it more harshly if you choose the easy way out."

This was the cruelest cut. Not only did they let me choose to be tortured
or to 'get away with' only being eaten alive by guilt, now he was forcing
me to pick the my own poison. It was like he said, it wasn't a real
choice. I had no control over what I picked. I could either pick something
slightly less diabolical and suffer the sting of shame and being racked by
regret...or I could pick the most painful punishment possible and work my
hardest to surrender completely. So it was with no small amount of pride,
and an even greater sense of abject terror, that I wheeled the electroshock
device over to the middle of the room right next to a table adorned with
leather restraints. "Pleez, Monsieur Darius, pleez punish me with zis."

His eyes lit up ever so slightly, a firefly at the bottom of a deep, dry
well. "I have to admit...I'm not sure what to say. Here I had this whole
speech prepared about how you are only cheating yourself by picking the
smallest paddle on the wall. It was on the tip of my tongue...I practically
tripped on it. But you picked out the worst of the worst. I can't use that
just for being tardy to one lesson...it's just not proportional." I went
through a whole gamut of emotions. I was beaming with pride to see him
stunned speechless...I was horrified to think of how awful it must be if
even HE thought it was too much...but most of all, I was ashamed that I was
getting away with all the sins he didn't know about.

"Buh buh but, zere was more. I was also late to ze gym. And last night, I
came weezout permission...so meeny times I experience zee petit de morte,
even weeth Monsieur Dirk. Pleez, punish me weeth the worst you have."
Confessions fell from my lips like lead weights, leaving me feeling
relieved, but hollow...it was soon filled with an oppressive dread...

"Well..." any spark in him fizzled out as his tone went ice cold, "I'd say
you deserve this after all. Get on the table, once this current runs
through you, you'll be hopping like a frog on fire. So let's get you tied
down so you won't break your cute little neck." I got up on the table and
laid down with all the enthusiasm of an autopsy patient. Darius strapped me
down tight, the leather biting into my soft, sensitive skin, the minor pain
serving as a portent of things to come. If a little discomfort was so
difficult for a spoiled sissy like me to endure, then how would I endure
actual torture? "Electroshock therapy has been used since the 1930s to
treat severe depression. It's said to create a sensation of euphoria after
the current completes its circuit through the nervous system. Of course, it
is usually administered to an anesthetized patient, so that might not
happen in your case." Darius had the professional demeanor of Dr
Kevorkian, and I didn't bother trying to look for compassion or mercy in
his eyes as he applied the electrodes to my forehead. He told me once that
he was the kindest Master in the Harrow House...that he gave us what we
would never dream of asking for, but what we desperately needed. I wondered
if this was what he had in mind...and then I realized it was exactly what
he had in mind. The machine came to life with a steady hum, that must be
what the demons hummed in Hell.

"Since this is your first time being punished, I'll keep the voltage
relatively low. And I'll only shock you three times. But don't you dare beg
me to stop. This isn't the worst I can do to you, not by far. This is just
the worst thing you can imagine...and if you live your entire life without
learning what I can imagine, you can die happy." I nodded mutely, biting
down on the rubber bit he put in my mouth so I wouldn't chew my tongue
off. I closed my eyes and tried to think happy thoughts...

"GUH UH GRRGLE BHHH!" My blood was replaced by hellfire as the current ran
through me. My body trashed against the straps as if trying desperately to
escape the pain inside it...and I didn't blame it. Nothing I had felt
before had prepared me for this...this was PAIN...real PAIN...the kind the
brain draws inspiration from when processing minor inconveniences like
being grudge fucked without lube...this was pure, undiluted...perfect. But
unlike most perfect moments, it seemed all too permanent. Even after the
machine returned to its low hum, I could feel the fire pumping in my veins,
each breath taking fresh agony into my lungs and breathing out jagged
despair. Still...I didn't beg, but I'm not sure if that's just because I
was in too much pain to speak...

"GAAAAH UURRRH FGGHH EEEEEEE!" I hoped that wasn't electrocutedese for
'please stop', but if it was, then apparently Darius wasn't fluent. At
least it wasn't worse than before, but that's like being in the shallow end
of the Lake of Fire. Reality warped and time wrapped around me, closing in
on me and holding me down. The PAIN just wouldn't end, and it started to
feel like it had no beginning either. I couldn't remember what not being in
excruciating, thrashing torment felt like...and I was convinced I never
would. This really was Hell, they just took their time warming up my
room...

Reality came back to me in gasps, then sobs...when the PAIN finally started
to sweat out of me, leaving only a heavy hurt that covered me in a warm
blanket, I began crying...tears of joy...tears of relief. I'd made it, I
had been delivered from Hell...and one day, maybe a decade from then, maybe
I'd even be able to feel good again. But anything less than that pristine
Pain was practically hedonistic pleasure in comparison. Then my brain
stitched itself back together and remembered how to count..."Well that's
two...and I have to say, I didn't think you'd make it past one. I was
looking forward to seeing the look on your face when you found out what
hurts worse than this...but I suppose this is a pleasant disappointment. I
tell you what...as a reward, I'll let you skip the last jolt if you think
you've been punished enough."

Just when I thought I'd finally seen the depths of Darius' inhumanity, he
found a way to go lower...making me choose whether I'd take one more trip
to Hell or live in sin instead. My brain was recovering rapidly, screaming
an articulate treatise on the benefits of not being electrocuted...but my
conscience was whispering unintelligibly, telling me I'd regret it until
the end of my days...that I was only cheating myself. I closed my eyes and
saw Isabella smiling down on me, she was so proud of me for being strong,
and I was so close..."Oui, Isabella, un more time..."

A cleansing fire...the flaming sword of an archangel, cutting me
down...burning me to a cinder...but after an eternity of PAIN...I felt a
different kind of fire. It wasn't destructive, it was alive, pulsing...a
womb...I rose from it like a phoenix, my wings unfettered from the weight
of my guilt...I soared. Flying closer and closer to the welcoming warmth of
the sun...closer to the angel hiding behind my eyes...my Isabella...when I
finally opened them...I was in Darius' arms. He was brushing my matted hair
from my scalp and telling me how proud he was of me. "the bloody nose. When
I saw that, I knew...there was hope for you yet. But this...it's too early
to say...but in my professional opinion, you could become a perfect sissy."

"Thank you, Monsieur Darius. I leev to pleez." I beamed up at him, feeling
a bit of that euphoria he mentioned earlier. For a moment, I allowed myself
to believe he was telling the truth, that he only wanted what was best for
me, that I could become the perfect sissy. But then I looked into his eyes,
and I remembered that he didn't care what happened to me, as long as he got
to see me squirm. I flinched at his caress, recoiling from the tender
fingers that turned the knob on the electroshock machine. A slight smile
flickered on his face...he got what he wanted from me...the flinch...

"Well...I'd better untie you so you can get dressed and get ready for
work. We don't want you being late again, now do we?" Darius undid the
straps and I slid off the table standing on stiff, barely responsive
legs. I made my way to the door each step I took a little easier than the
last, my muscles starting to relax...more importantly, each step was a step
further away from Darius. I wasn't sure whether he wanted me to believe he
was trying to make me into the best sissy I could be and just couldn't help
but terrify me, or if he was trying to terrify me and making me the best
sissy I could be was a happy accident. Either way, I was grateful for the
lesson, mostly because I learned never to have another one. Still...a
nagging part of me told me I'd come crawling back if I was a bad little
sissy again. It was better than the guilt...and it was the only way to stay
on Isabella's good graces...

I ran back to the shower and blasted myself with ice cold water, not even
waiting for it to warm up. I shivered under the steady stream, but I was
glad for the incentive to soap up and scrub off all my my sweat in a
hurry. Besides, it reduced the temptation to spend time I didn't have
'thoroughly cleaning' my more sensitive dirty bits. Instead, I cleaned up,
dried off, and tore off to the sissy wardrobe room at record speed. I was
out of breath by the time I made it, but this time I didn't let that stop
me. I wasn't going to be late this time. I was going to get dressed, go
upstairs and be the best little sissy maid they had ever seen. And no one
was going to stop me..."Ooh just the sissy I was looking for. I was hoping
I could make squirties before going upstairs to pway."...except maybe
Bambi.

"Pleez, Bambi..." I saw her cherubic features grow positively demonic and I
remembered my place, "I mean Miz'ress Bambi...oops...I mean Maman." As if
some one pulled a string, her face snapped back to her usual empty
smile. "Please, I can't be late to work. I just want to get dressed and
go. Pleez, I promeez to make it up later, just pleez let me go."

"EE! You sound so kewt! I've got my very own widdle French dolly!" After
her initial giddiness, I saw Bambi thinking over my simple request with the
intensity you'd expect for a zen koan. You could practically hear gears
grinding until she finally came back with, "Tell you what...I'll fuck you,
AND help you get dressed. Cuz let's be rilly rill, without me you won't
find diddly p*o." She had a point...the so called Wardrobe Room was more
like a warehouse of uniforms, outfits, lingerie, and accessories. Row after
row of racks filled with hanging plastic bags and underneath them, labeled
cabinets. With Bambi's hair trigger cum reflex it would be quicker than
looking for it myself, and it would give me an opportunity to prove I could
hold off from cumming before my Master...or Mistress...or Mommy did.

"Alright but..." I didn't get time to finish my caveat before Bambi took me
by the arm and dragged me down the rows until she got to row 'M' for Maid
and walked down to 'F' for French. She fumbled with a few bags and finally
took one down marked 'X'...I was already regretting letting her pick my
outfit...

I put on the ruffled belt...the white lace tickling the top of my ass and
the black silk soft on my hands...and then I realized it wasn't a belt...it
was a skirt. Bambi giggled as she handed me some panties to cover my almost
completely exposed ass...it was a thong of course, black silk hugged my
smooth balls and hard little clit as I pulled them on, the back riding up
my ass, nestled frustratingly between my ample cheeks. My legs were a
little more dressed...I slid up thigh high silk stockings, black with white
ruffles at the top, which looked rather fetching in my stilettos. It was
strange, I had been walking around naked this entire time, but the moment I
put clothes on, I started feeling exposed...and I liked it. Teasing
glimpses of flesh were even more alluring than the unwrapped package. Bambi
helped me into a matching corset, tying the strings so tight I could barely
breath...but it was worth it to look breathtaking. It was overwhelming,
ever layer I added accentuated my transformation. Before when I wore an
outfit like this it was kinky, like a game of dirty dress up. But now, it
was like they were a second skin, like they where more me than I was...the
me I was wanted the be...the me I was becoming. And I looked very becoming
in the peasant blouse, cut just low enough to see the tops of my
nipples. My outfit was completed with a dainty little bonnet nestled in my
flowing blond hair, and I felt complete...whole. I was a little relieved
that Bambi wanted some quickie action after all...I needed some relief...

Apparently Bambi needed release just as badly...she pounced on me leaving a
trail of lusty giggles as she tackled me to the floor, covering my face in
soft kisses. I was already starting to squirm, her teasing left me tingling
all the way down to my toes. I moaned wetly, which she took as an
invitation to dart her tongue in and out of my mouth quickly, flicking the
tip of my tongue of with hers. She lifted her skirt tickling my thighs as
she spread my legs and lined her clit up with my sissy hole. I thought I
might drown in softness, or go mad as I was tortured with tickles...when
Bambi finally gave me something hard..."giggle I can't tell you how ha ha
happy I am to finally have a Fwench Maid to pway with." I was getting a
good idea, what with her rapid, rabbity thrusts and giggly grunts...

The good news was I didn't have to worry about cumming first...Bambi cooed
as she filled me with her sissy spunk...that was also the bad news. I also
didn't have to worry about being late she even had time to cuddle into me
and snuggle for a few minutes...I stroked her bright pink hair as I
marveled that this delicate creature made me her bitch. She wasn't really
such a bad gurl...just a bit of brat. The blare of the alarm cut through
the fog and sent us scurrying off to our next appointments. She giggled as
she bounced away, but I was too nervous to laugh. I ran as fast as I could
down the winding corridors, wondering how I knew where to go, how I even
knew what the alarms meant for me, and Bambi knew where they were signaling
her to go.

I saw the hanging cages in the foyer as I approached the door, and I
shivered, knowing it was only a matter of time before I'd be locked in one,
on display for the customers. But I pushed it out of my head...I had more
important things to worry about. Like, what exactly was a sissy maid
supposed to do? After all, none of the other sissies had real jobs. They
were just window dressing. They didn't really expect me to clean did they?
In this outfit?

Whatever they had planned, it had to be better than the basement, I longed
for the natural light and familiar feel of my former home...I opened the
door and made my way up only to find my old butler...and I mean
old...waiting for me. One look at Jeeves' stern face and I knew I was in
for trouble. I tried to be friendly, "Bonjour, Jeeves, eet is good to see
you again. I look forward to working wiz you." But I guess we were never
friends to begin with...

"Don't you, 'bonjour me', you faux French fop! And don't call me Jeeves! My
name is Percival, you never bothered to learn it when you were Master of
the house, but now that you're just another sissy slave, you will call me
SIR! And one more thing you better get crystal clear. You work for FOR me,
not 'wiz' me!" I'd never seen Jeeves...I mean Percival...I mean Sir so
angry. Then again, I barely ever saw him back when I lived upstairs. I
considered the servants beneath me, and the only time I paid them any mind
was when I wanted them to complete some menial task I was too lazy to do
myself. I guess it didn't endear me to the staff...and now I was beneath
them...the thought was a little frightening...and frighteningly
exciting. The thrill soon wore off..."Now don't think this is some kinky
game. I had to let one of my best cleaners go because they figured they
could save money by making you clean. She had two k**s. I hope your sick
little sex kicks are worth putting her out of work."

I withered under his gaze. My outfit was making me feel exposed, but it
wasn't quite as exciting as before. Now I felt vulnerable, laid bare...All
I wanted was to be a good sissy, to make people happy, but was wanting that
selfish if it meant other people had to suffer? I wished things could just
be simple, that I could make things better with a blowjob, but maybe a
blowjob can't fix every problem. Then again, "Pleez, Monsieur Sir, I weel
do anyzing to prove my dedication." When Sir Jeeve's face grew more ashen
than normal, I was sure I'd made a terrible mistake, and then he unzipped
his pants...

"Hmm...it's a start. But make it quick, missy, you still have floors to
scrub." He pulled out his cock but it wasn't hard yet...a first for me. Old
guys must need more help...I wrapped my lips around him and swallowed him
whole, enjoying the feeling of his manhood stirring as my tongue undulated
against it and I softly sucked...even if his pubes did smell like
mothballs. As he grew in length and girth he filled my throat nicely, but
he didn't have anything I hadn't seen before, still his desperate wheezing
did add an extra urgency to it. I felt him throb inside me...irregular,
jerky spasms...I wondered how long he would last, and if I'd have the
discipline to stay dry after he unloaded, but I didn't have much time to
wonder before he let out a breathless moan and several shuddery
squirts. His cum tasted a little weak...but still distinctively male. I
felt a warm buzz of pride, but whether it was due to self discipline or the
abrupt end to a blowjob that was just picking up steam, I didn't cum. Far
from feeling relieved, I was starting to wish I could go back to being a
fuck pig...

Instead of sticky panties I got a wet rag and a bucket. I took a look at my
once familiar home and found it strange and alienating. What was once
spacious was now cavernous, making me feel small and insignificant. Floors
that where once elegant were now too fucking big...and I had to scrub them
all. My silk encased knees met cold, hard tile and I got down to
business. From this position, everyone could see my everything, my ass
completely exposed and swaying invitingly. It only added to my frustrated
lust, a burning in my loins and a knot in my guts...but it also gave me an
extra oomph to my scrubbing. Pain shot up my arm and made itself at home in
my shoulder. I got the feeling it was going to get nice and cozy, but in a
way, I welcomed it. At least it took my mind of how horny I was...

It was a long, hard slog, but it was rewarding. There was something about
physical labor that made me feel useful...I could see fruits of my labor as
I shined inch by inch. I got it so clean, that I could see my face in it, a
vision of servile sexiness. The longer I cleaned, the more I
longed...longed for someone to walk by...see what a good sissy I was...how
hard I was working for her...see my ass shaking like a bowl of delicious
jello...to spread my cheeks with their fat cock and pound me so hard I'd
shine the floor with my face. And as if I dreamed them into being, I heard
two voices coming down the hallway towards me, "my point, Mr Harrow. If you
want to find d**gs of the caliber you require for your sissies in this
state, you'll have to go to Hell. Because that's where I've sent the
competition. You don't like the prices of my d**gs, then you can go to
Hell." I couldn't see who the voice belonged to yet, but it didn't have the
same weight as my Master's. Sure it was bombastic, but it seemed hollow,
like it was full of hot air... "Mr. Capistrano, you have made your point
abundantly clear. My people will be with yours shortly to see what we can
negotiate. In the meantime, perhaps you'd care to sample one of the
specimens your d**gs help make so ridiculously responsive?" In contrast,
Master Darren's voice was almost subdued, as if only a great force of will
was holding it back and keeping it from burning Mr. Capistrano's face
off. No matter how it appeared, I knew that my Master had the upper hand
somehow. The mention of the d**gs that made me so sensationally sensitive
didn't surprise me, nor did I dwell on it. I figured it didn't matter why I
felt so good, as long as it never stopped, so I went about my work with an
added urgency, hoping I'd be the specimen he chose.

"Mmmmmmm speak of the Devil...and she shall appear. Who is this comely
creature?" His voice grew wet, to the point he was smacking as he talked. I
stole a glimpse over my shoulder to get a sight of him. For what I got, it
was petty theft. A rotund, oily little man maybe a head taller than me. His
hair was thinning and clung to his glistening scalp like thin, inky
tendrils. His piggy little eyes darted back and forth constantly betraying
his oafish appearance. He was obviously a clever little man, and one
bloated with self confidence, but he didn't have the raw power of Master
Darius or his sons. Instinctively, I just knew that despite Capistrano's
big talk, that my Master was the one in control of the situation. Still,
even with all his glaring shortcomings, I still wanted to crawl over to him
and show him he was superior to me in every way possible. And from the
hunger in his voice, I'd get the chance.

"I'm not so sure you want this one. She's still fresh...hasn't been fully
trained yet. I don't want you getting a bad impression about my
merchandise." I felt lower than an earthworm's asshole. My Master was
worried I'd humiliate him. Worried I wouldn't be able to get off a fat
little man...one I doubt got so fat by being picky. Or maybe he'd worry I'd
out pig the piggy, and cum all over these nice clean floors before fatty
could fill me up like an eclair. Try as I might, I couldn't think of a
reason that Master didn't want his guest to use me that wasn't deeply
hurtful. But as a mere sissy, my feelings didn't matter. You don't ask a
garbage can if its feelings are hurt when you don't fill it up...

"Mmm...all the better. I like a taste of wild game from time to time. Tell
you what, if this fresh filly can take my fat sausage without cumming like
the bitch dog she is, I'll give you a five percent discount on your
supplies." Master Darius nodded silently, and gave me a quick look. It was
brief, but spoke volumes. Telling me not to disappoint him...telling me
that I had to pull deep inside and find the strength to resist my natural
inclination to cum my brains out. Telling me I better go from wild fuck pig
to seasoned sissy in seconds flat...and I was listening...

"Smack...yesssss this is a prime cut of ass...well marbled...juicy...and
NNH filling..." he didn't waste anytime with foreplay or romance. He just
got down on his knees, lifted his gut over my ass, and pushed his fat cock
into my tight little cunt. I cooed with every inch that slid inside me...it
was a short coo. He couldn't have been more than four inches hard, but he
wasn't lying when he called it a fat sausage. What he lacked in length, he
made up in girth, giving me just enough hurt to keep me hungry for the tip
of his cock as it just barely hit my Oui spot. Far from trying to hold out,
I felt my body going into auto-pilot, heading straight for a cliff at top
speed...bucking my hips as hard as I could to meet Capistrano's shallow
thrusts. I squeezed down on his cock as hard as I could, making good use of
my kegel exercises, wanting to feel every inch of him against my hungry
whole, greedy for just a little more flesh...just a little more to get me
over...it had been so long since I got a little relief...almost a whole
day. I could feel his sweat dripping down on me...I knew he wouldn't last
much longer, but from the hot throbbing surging inside me, I knew I would
fill my panties long before he filled my hole. All it would take is one
more prod of my happy spot...one tiny tickle...and I'd be free...

But I didn't want to be free. I didn't want to escape to my blank place. I
didn't even want to be happy...I just want to feel useful. I wanted to be a
good sissy...the best sissy. So instead of letting him hit my cum trigger
one more time, I started rolling my hips, swirling almost all the way to
the base of his cock and then working back off it in a corkscrew
motion. Now he was the one making little piggy grunts, he was the one about
to squeal. I worked him into a foaming frenzy, my ass becoming a pale blur
as it danced on his cock, giving him all the pleasure as I did all the
work. All he had to do was grab my plump cheeks and impale me on his cock
and he'd win his petty little game...but he didn't want to win anymore. For
a second I was worth more than five percent of an untold volume of illicit
profits. If he had more than a second, maybe he would have done the math,
but I didn't give him the time to think. He shot so much cum up my ass I'm
sure he pulled out a few pounds lighter. I didn't know how much money we
were talking about, but I figured it was at least a hundred thousand dollar
fuck by this time next year. And according to him, "huff huff Fuck it...it
was worth it."

My Master passed by me, putting his hand on my head. "That'll do pig...meet
me in my room in half an hour.,," It was better than cumming. The buzz of
pride didn't fade, there was no harsh cum down, no empty ache of guilt or
regret. The pride of a fuck well done filled me fuller than any cock ever
had. I was useful...I was worth something...I was good. I glided across the
tile as I cleaned it, almost floating over it as I counted the minutes
until our meeting. When I thought it had been long enough, I made my way
over to his door and meekly knocked on it, waiting in anguished uncertainty
until he finally called out, "You can come in now."

His room was almost as impressive as he was, and almost as terrifying. It
was adorned with trophies of conquest, covered with the heads of savage
a****ls; slain, no doubt, with his bare hands. My master stood in front of
his four poster bed wearing a black velvet robe and nothing else, opened
ever so slightly all the way down to just above his crotch. I got down on
my knees and looked at the floor, not daring to look him in the eyes
without permission. I could still feel his eyes on me, burning on my skin,
a blush spreading across my skin and sinking into me until I was panting
with lust. I didn't want him to see me like this, so desperate for him...so
completely enthralled with him. I wasn't even sure I wanted to want him...I
probably would have hated him if I thought about it, but who could think
with his eyes running over every quivering inch of their exposed flesh? He
finally cut through the fog, "I didn't think you had it in you, Belle, but
this is one time when I'm glad to be proven wrong. So I've decided to give
you a big reward. I'm sure you have countless questions about your new
life, and although the only question a sissy really needs to know the
answer to is: how can I best serve my Master, I'll let you ask me
three. And just because I'm in a generous mood, I'll let you ask them while
you suck my cock."

I couldn't believe my ears...it was like Christmas came early and Santa
gave me the cock I asked him for in my letter. I crawled over as fast as I
could, fumbling with his robe and letting his cock fall onto my face,
nuzzling against it like it was my pet snake. I'd fantasized about his cock
ever since I saw it sliding in and out of Isabella's lips. At first I tried
to pretend I wanted to have a cock like his, but now I couldn't imagine
wanting it between my legs when I could have it between my lips. I slid my
tongue into his pee slit, the slightest taste of his pre-cum making me
giddy with lust. I wrapped my lips around it, finally daring to look him in
the eyes...what I saw almost forced the cum right out of my rock hard
clit...a look of total dominance...total ownership...a look that told me he
was doing me the favor here...that I didn't really deserve to suck his
cock, but he would slum it just this once...

I didn't waste the opportunity...I covered his cock in kisses, which took a
long time considering he had to be almost a foot long. He tasted of musk
and fine steak...a cut above his sons. I was drooling by the time I got to
his salt and pepper thatch of pubes and slobbered over his hefty balls, my
jaw aching just to feel them pulse inside my mouth. By the time I finally
worked my way back up to the tip of his cock, I was dick drunk and
desperate...taking as much of it down my throat as I could get in one mad
lunge and gagging before I got a third down. My body lurched as I pulled
off of him reluctantly, spitting on his cock before I took a deep breath
and tried again. I made it half way the second try but couldn't push any
further. I let my throat get accommodated to his girth, hoping it would
open up to him if they got to know one another better... "Did you have any
questions, Belle? Or is my cock the only answer you need?"

I felt a little silly...I had completely forgotten the questions in my zeal
to suck his cock. And now that I thought about it, I really didn't have any
questions, for myself at least. I accepted that I had no control over my
own fate, and I wasn't even sure I wanted any. But now that I could ask
questions, I discovered that I had some that had been nagging at me whether
I knew it or not. First and foremost, "How iph mmmy mammabr? Iph phee
zaphe?"

Master Darius looked genuinely surprised, going so far as to pull his cock
out of my throat and plop it on my head a few times, as if thinking it
over. "I didn't know you cared about your mother, Belle. Hell, I didn't
know you cared about anyone." Truth be told, neither did I. But since I
discovered my mom was being kept doped up in a looney bin so my step-father
turned Master could steal her fortune, I must have subconsciously started
to worry about her. I guess I made a better daughter than I did a
son. "Well don't you worry. You're mother is still in top physical
condition, and happier than she's ever been. She's thrilled to be relieved
of the responsibility of keeping up appearances, of hiding her nasty little
addictions from friends and family. She's much happier in d**ggy dreamland
than she ever was with you. She doesn't miss you, Belle, so don't waste
time missing her."

He fed me his cock again, filling my lonely longing and then some. I felt
the raw heat of a well stretched throat and got lost in the humid haze,
making my way almost all the way down his cock, another few inches and I'd
be home. I was so close...but so far. It was both Paradise and
Purgatory. The frustrating futility reminded me of my next question. "Why
do youph puneeph Iphabella for zee opher sipheez mmmiphakes?"

This time he didn't just look surprised, he looked a little confused, or
was he disappointed? "Punish her? I haven't had to punish Isabella in
ages. Unless you mean...ah, that must be it. What you call punishment is
nothing more than not allowing her the pleasure of my company. You see,
while you dream of a future with her...a dream I might add that is as
dangerous as it is hopeless...she dreams only of being my kept sissy. It's
why she hates you other sissies so much. You're competition. And who knows,
one day I might grant her wish. That is, if I don't find a sissy that
deserves it more..."

I felt emptier than ever...how could I ever compete with him? Who could? It
would be like trying to steal God's girlfriend. I couldn't imagine Isabella
choosing me over him...I certainly wouldn't. In fact, at that moment, all I
could imagine was choosing him. That gave me the final push I needed to
force myself all the way down his cock, feeling a sense of accomplishment
when I felt his balls stroke my chin so profound...well it was too profound
for words to say the least. This was so different from the way Isabella
made me feel, but maybe that was the point. This felt right...like it was
destiny. I don't think I could call it love...it was something more than
that...something deeper...and it brought me to my final question. One so
important I slid off of his cock to ask it. "Could I be your sissy servante
someday?"

Master Darius smiled warmly, and stroked my hair gently...then he grabbed a
clumpful of curls and pulled me onto his cock. He used my throat as a
cocksleeve, taking full advantage of my ability to deep throat him, still
smiling warmly as he face fucked me. Tears welled up in my eyes, tears of
joy no doubt, or oxygen deprivation. The blood pooled in my face, it felt
like it was going to burst...everything went dreamy as my brain slowed to a
crawl and curled up at his feet. Just when I was sure I was going to burst
a blood vessel, I felt an even more urgent eruption filling first my throat
and then my grateful mouth. I swallowed his seed eagerly, having difficulty
with his volume and viscosity, but finally earning a lungful of fresh air
and the taste of pure ambrosia. "We'll see..." he said, kissing my cheek
with his cock, leaving behind a sticky memento, "oh and you can cum now."

The moment he gave the word, my body went into convulsions. Every bone in
my body melted in the heat of unleashed euphoria, reducing me to a sissy
shaped pool of living, breathing, moaning cum. Invisible hands caressing my
body, squeezing every last drop of pent up pleasure from every juicy curve
and slick cranny. It was like his voice was still inside me, throbbing
against my happy spot, sending my sissy sack into overload, producing more
gurl goo than I'd unleashed since I woke up in the basement. And all it
took was a word...I almost didn't dare to imagine what his cock would do to
my pussy...but then it was all I could imagine. Even when he brusquely
said, "You may go now." I still felt a lingering whisper of him inside
me. I left with the bashful bliss of a gurl with her first crush, or with
the panting pride of a bitch that won first place for her Master at the dog
show. I floated all the way back down to the basement, sneaking a little
piece of Heaven back into Hell...

I floated through the rest of the evening...if it was really evening...
eating my dinner and marveling at the flavor puppy love brought to the
blandest dish. I barely even noticed the snickers of Bambi and Sakura as I
soared to the showers and breezed to bed. It was only when I saw Isabella
that I came plummeting back to earth, hitting my bunk with the weight of a
shooting star slamming into the unforgiving ground. It knocked the wind out
of me...I still loved her...or felt something for her strong enough to
confuse for love...but what was it I felt for Master Darius? I didn't feel
it any less looking at Isabella's suspicious stare, didn't miss him any
less as I covered my head with my pillow to avoid her inquisitive eyes. I
didn't know what I felt or for who...and if it was love, where would I put
it? I was in competition I with them both now, and I didn't know who I
wanted to beat...but I knew I was destined to lose...still, try as I might,
I couldn't stop hoping for a miracle.

Whatever the answer was, I didn't find it in my dreams...the field had been
paved over...




I was running through an empty parking lot...looking for someone, or
something, but I wasn't sure who I was looking for...or what. All I knew
that was no matter how hard I looked, how far off into the distance I
stared, all I saw was miles and miles of concrete. It was an oppressive
emptiness, the vastness of the open space crushing me. I fell to my knees
in despair. I don't know why I was looking anymore...everything I had seen
up to this point was testament to the futility of hope. At the depths of my
despair, abandoned...alone...and ready to stop searching...that is, until I
saw a single blade of grass pushing through the cracks of the pavement...it
was struggling so hard to survive, living proof that hope springs
eternal...

I woke up smiling, determined to make the best of my day...of everyday. Of
course, I didn't even know what day it was. The other sissies seemed fine
with living in a timeless limbo, but I wanted to keep track of my progress,
to see how far I was on the road to perfect sissydom. To do that I would
need to have some concept of the passage of time. I decided that since
today was the first day of the rest of my life, that this would be the
first day of the week...but I wasn't confident enough to call it Monday, so
I settled on...

Moanday...

I burst out of bed and ran to breakfast. Isabella was sitting in the corner
again, so it was easy to avoid eye contact. I didn't want to hurt her
feelings, and I wasn't even sure she had any, but I didn't want to see them
burning in her eyes until I understood my own. I also didn't want a repeat
of yesterday, so I forced my food down as fast as I could, welcoming the
giddy dopiness. I ran across the room and cleaned my bowl, then ran right
back and hovered over the table like a courteous vulture, ready to pounce
on the dirty dishes. I was a whir of washing, my arm throbbing and my hands
sizzling as I scalded the bowls with hot water and scrubbed with all my
might.

I heard tittering behind me and then I felt a stinging slap on my ass. I
turned expecting to see Bambi giggling gleefully, and saw Sakura instead,
her almond eyes turned down and her tiny lips curved up into a guilty
grin. "Please to forgive this humble sissy, but I can not be resisting the
chance. Your buttocks cry out to be punished for the unforgivable crime of
beauty." Her face was flush and her lip was trembling. I could tell she
wasn't used to being in charge...she hardly knew what to do with
herself. Somehow, her inexperience, her insecurity, only made me want to
submit to her more...to teach her how to dominate a sissy by surrendering
so sweetly. I parted my lips and closed my eyes, smelling cherry blossoms
as I drew closer to her...

And then a blaring alarm had me off and running to my morning workout, the
laughter of the other sissies following me close behind. Pain shot up my
legs and my lungs burned as I made a mad dash to outrun them. I arrived at
my destination spent and sweating, but still standing...

Dirk smiled broadly at me with all the confidence and kindness of a
sissy-eating-shark. I couldn't hide his complete control over my body. He
could see how my blush ran down my cheeks...across my heaving chest...past
my achingly hard nipples...down my smooth stomach...stopping just below my
throbbing clit, already glistening with pre-comely. I didn't dare look him
in the eyes, for fear of what I'd beg him to do to me, and I was sucking on
my lower lip feverishly to keep the words from exploding out of my mouth
unbidden. I knew he only wanted to use me and that he didn't care if that
got me in trouble or not, but that only made me want him more. After all,
what gurl doesn't want a bad boy? And once I surrendered my body to him
completely, as I did last session again and again, it made it hard to play
reluctant. But I had made a solemn vow, and I was determined to see it
through the end. There was a first time for everything, after all. He
wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in close so that my soft skin and
ample curves crushed against his hard muscles...one especially hard against
my stomach, letting me feel how deep he could be inside of me if I just
begged him nicely. He pulled my chin up so that I couldn't avoid his eyes,
clouded with lust, asking rhetorically "Are you ready for your workout?"

I resisted every hungry whimper inside me begging me to beg, and listened
to the soft voice of reason instead, gently pushing back so that he
released his grip on me. I crossed over to the ballet bar and lifted my leg
up as high as it would go, then gently lowered it to the bar and began my
squats. "Oui, Masteer Dirk. I eem ready." He looked at me as if I'd just
sprouted wings and flew across the room pissing rainbows as I went. Never
in a million moans did he expect me to resist him. I cringed, worried he'd
take it as a personal insult, but his sissy eating grin slid back over his
face and he looked at me with a little less disdain than usual as I
continued my exercises...it almost moved me to tears. It gave me the energy
and drive to double the number of squats I did the day before and to
complete the rest of my stretches without collapsing.

By the time I got to my Kegel exercises, I was feeling on top of the
world...that is, until Master Dirk decided to 'help' me with my exercises
my sticking three of his thick fingers up my as and tickling my spurt spot
every time I squeezed down. It was sheer torture...ruthless, rapturous
torture. I had to dig my finger nails into my palms until I almost broke
the skin, the stab of pain a paper thin barrier between me and an
eruption. I felt like I was trying to contain a flood with a Kleenex. Every
squeeze brought a profound pang of pleasure, each more beautiful and moving
than the last...by the time I heard the alarm blare signaling it was time
for my next class, I was moved to tears, ready to collapse into his arms
and surrender everything to him all over again...but then I imagined Master
Darren staring down at me, Isabella standing faithfully by his side. I had
to prove myself to him...to her...to them...I had to pull away with an
anguished moan and apologize, "Escuse Moi, Master Dirk, I meen no
offense. I would love to 'work out' wiz you a little longer. But, alas, I
must say adieu for now."

He looked only slightly less shocked than before, but he recovered quickly
smirking as he shooed me away. I tore off at top speed to my 'relaxed
learning' lessons and made it with time to spare. Although how I knew I had
time to spare when I didn't even know what time it was eluded me. What was
important was the first words I heard as I sat in the lone chair in an
otherwise empty room was, "You're early." I couldn't have felt more proud
if the words came from God Himself, and with the way his words seemed to
skip my head and go straight to my heart, I wasn't ruling that possibility
out. "It's good that you're early, because we have a lot to learn today. If
you're going to be a French Maid, you can't just look like one or sound
like one, you have to behave like one. Today I'm going to help you with
that. Close your eyes and count down from a hundred. As you do, imagine a
fawn, darting through a fie..."

"Oui!" I bolted upright, answering a question I didn't hear and knowing
without even being able to see his smile that I got it right. I had no idea
how long I'd been out, but I was starting to suspect it was longer than a
few sloppy seconds. But it was strange...I didn't feel any different, or at
least not in any way I could articulate. All I could say for sure was that
I felt something that completely alien to me...competence. I didn't
question it, or at least I tried to keep myself from questioning it too
much, reminding myself over and over that I wanted to be a good sissy, and
I had to trust my trainers.

"That's a good sissy, Belle. Since you were early today and don't need to
be punished for anything, you have some free time before you need to report
to work. Enjoy yourself, you've earned it..." Pride welled up in me...I was
positively glowing as I floated down the stark halls of the basement. I
bounded blissfully feeling weightless and care free...that is, until I
realized I didn't know where I was going. It was a strange feeling, not
having anywhere to be...not having anything to do. I should have been
excited, giddy even. I was given permission to do whatever I wanted...to
enjoy myself, and I had earned it, hadn't I? But I started to worry, to
feel lost...I didn't have such a great track record of making my own
decisions. What if I fell back into my selfish, slutty habits and got in
trouble again? I would have ruined what had been a perfect day and set me
further back on the road to perfect sissydom. I wondered if maybe I should
play it safe, and go look for someone to tell me what to do with my spare
time. It wasn't easy...in fact it was all too often excruciatingly
embarrassing, but I was getting pretty adept at following orders. I felt
like I had turned a corner, and that I was heading in the right
direction...but apparently I was wrong...Sakura came out of nowhere as she
turned the corner at the same time and crashed right into me...

I fell to the ground, luckily I landed on my well padded ass. Sakura
managed to stay on her feet, still teetering, she angrily whispered as loud
as she could, "Baka gaijin! Almost to be knocking me down! You are mistaken
to think you are someone to get away with this!" I had trouble
understanding her, as her rage seemed to be in a vicious wrestling match
with her meekness. Her ivory skin was speckled with red rage, and her sloe
eyes flashed brilliantly, but couldn't quite manage to meet mine. I felt
bad for her, of all the sissies here, she seemed to have the most trouble
accepting what she was. I didn't want to make things worse for her, so I
decided to help her along in her faltering attempt to put me in my place...

"I'm so sorry, Mademoiselle Sakura, pleez, have merci beacoup!" I got up on
my knees and looked up at her with an expression of sorrow and surrender,
and that's when I noticed the change to her usual school girl
outfits. Sure, it was a school girl outfit, but not like any I'd ever seen
before. It was a white latex body suit with painted on collar, pockets and
buttons to make the top look like a school uniform blouse. She wore a
plastic pleated skirt that cut across the midriff helping to reinforce the
illusion of stockings created by the bottom half of the body suit. It was
also white, but with a hole in the crotch and ass area making it look like
pure white stockings and a garter. Again, painted lines outlined the
stocking tops, complete with cute little bows and the inseam running down
her slender but shapely legs.

With all that shiny white latex, I didn't notice the obvious reason for the
change in attire at first. But when I saw pearly white rivulets of cum
clinging to her pleated skirt, I began to notice they were everywhere. He
flushed face was coated with a creamy clear foundation...her nipples,
jutting out against the tight rubbery confines almost appeared to be
lactating as man mike dripped from them. My eyes ran down her taut tiny
body like a bead of cum, finally stopping at her patent leather mary janes,
my mouth watering and tongue lolling even before Sakura whispered
forcefully, "You will be cleaning this most honorable sissy's clothes with
the tongue that drips with apologies."

I started at her feet, running my tongue slowly up her black patent
leather, cleaning every milky white glop off until I could see the depraved
look of lust on my face reflected back at me. I didn't dare ask her how she
got covered head to toe with such a copious amount of cum...maybe one of my
Master's invited his friends over for a bukkake party, maybe she had to
entertain a roomful of clients...whatever the reason, I knew Sakura
wouldn't want me to ask. It did occur to me that I was kowtowing to a sissy
that had just been debased and basted...but other than a slight twinge of
unease, I felt proud to have my tongue slowly sliding up her smooth latex
stockings. It was an exhilarating, intoxicating sensation, the texture of a
flawless, flavorless second skin, punctuated with almost pungent explosions
of flavor as I made my way up to her lithe legs. I took my time, the sound
of wet sucking kisses almost covering her timid whimpers and moans...as
well as mine. I guess I took too much time, or pushed her too close to the
edge, because she forcefully stammered, "Please to be hurrying! This
honorable sissy is enduring the Hell of a Thousand Sticky kisses! So be a
good dorei and make a thousand kisses!"

I wasted no time obeying her desperate command. Secretly, it gave me a sick
little thrill knowing I could probably overpower her if I wanted to. There
was something about surrendering even when I didn't have to that felt
doubly depraved. It made tonguing my way up her torso and sucking the man
milk from her pert little breasts even more swelteringly sensual. By the
time I reached her sticky face, I couldn't say who felt more filthy...or
who needed this more. I suppose I got my answer after feeling her skin
sizzle on my tongue, tasting a salty tear as she gave into her perverse
desires, and swooning as she pulled my lips to hers and darted her delicate
little tongue into my mouth, stealing back the last of the cum before
sucking it clean. I moaned and whimpered and whined, desperate for release
after the day's teasing, but even more desperate to please...so when she
suckled on my lips to make sure she got every last drop and pulled away
leaving only a thin strand of spittle to remind me of her tiny, tantalizing
lips, I just waited impatiently...hoping she'd have something even more
decadently debasing to put me through. Lucky for me, she wrapped that
little mouth around my earlobe, whispering, "This filthy sissy has need for
your tongue in her most shameful of spots."

I wasted no time in dropping to my knees and crawling behind her, my hands
trembled with excitement as I parted her petite, but pleasantly
proportioned buttocks and slid my tongue up and down her sticky crack. The
cum here had an extra kick to it, as if fermenting in her hotbox had given
it an alcoholic edge. Whatever the cause, I was definitely cum drunk as I
sucked out every drop of cum I could get to, and then snaked my slender
fingers inside her to scoop out the rest. While I was digging the last of
the deposits, I tickled her super happy fun time spot until she made a
shameful squirt of her own. I didn't even have to be asked to crawl over
and lick it off the floor. And after I did, I just looked up at her with
doe eyes, licking my fingers clean and looking as delightfully dirty as I
could while doing it. I whimpered, "Mon soeur...pleez. Anytime you feel ze
shame is too much, pleez...pick on zis little sissy."

Sakura didn't say anything, she just gave one of her stoic little nods and
turned and ran away. I felt a warmth rise inside of me, and it wasn't just
the usual humidity of humiliation and frustrated lust...it was something
more soothing than that, like a security blanket snuggling up against me
from the inside. It wasn't the head over high heels dizzy dreamy feeling I
got with Isabella, or the all encompassing awe I felt for Master Darren. It
wasn't love, if that's what those were, but it was a feeling...a feeling of
sisterhood.

Before I could ponder it any further, an alarm sang out, serenading me all
the way to the wardrobe room, where I slipped into a scandalously sexy
French Maid's uniform and sprinted upstairs to start my chores. As
expected, Master Jeeves Sir was waiting for me with his pursed lip
grimace. I wished I could make him smile, to make him like me...but as long
as I'd known him...which I suppose was my whole life, I'd never seen him
smile. Then again, I wasn't a drop dead sexy sissy before either, so I
wasn't about to give up. For his part, he seemed dead set to despise me,
greeting me with, "You did a barely passable job yesterday, slut. So today
your fee to be allowed to work on my floors, is going to hit you a little
deeper." He bent me over the kitchen counter and unceremoniously began
fucking me with his barely erect cock.

As he wheezed and grunted and drooled over my ass I couldn't resist
wiggling my heart shaped bottom back onto his old oak. Maybe it was the way
his bony fingers dug into my voluptuous ass, as if he was holding on for
dear life...or maybe it was the mortal terror in his thrusts, the way he
held nothing back, pounding me as hard and fast as he could as if he was
afraid he might die before he could finish...or maybe it was the way he
pulled my head up and kissed me from above, making me dizzy and delirious
as he sucked my tongue up into his throat, as if he were trying to suck out
my youth. I don't know why, but getting fucked by an elderly pervert was
enough to send me careening towards the edge of a cliff, hurtling towards
an ocean of cum. I couldn't understand it...I never used to be attracted to
men. And my step-Masters I could almost, understand...they were pinnacles
of manhood and it made me feel even more feminine and soft to be near
them. But first fatty and now oldy...it was like I would go into heat for
any dog in the pound...as long as they pounded my sissy ass anyway. I was
worried Master Jeeves Sir's mummified manhood was going to force a sissy
squirt from my throbbing clit and ruin my perfect day, but fortunately(?)
he didn't have the endurance to fuck the cum out of me, settling for a few
shuddery spurts that I almost expected to come out as dust clouds. Then,
just as casually and contemptuously as he had bent me over, he pulled me
back up and snarled, "Now get to work, you fucking sissy slut!"

As if on a mission from God, I began scrubbing the floors with a zealous
fervor. I was so motivated, I didn't notice that I'd cleaned the entire
kitchen in a third of the time it took yesterday until I was done. I only
allowed my self to stand slack jawed for a moment before continuing to the
rest of the spacious estate. I said a silent thank you to whoever my
mystery trainer was. I didn't understand how, but he had made me a better
cleaner in my sleep. My arm forming perfect elliptical as I used the
momentum from one stroke to carry me into the next. Before long I was in
the zone, finding a zen like calm in cleaning and finding myself back in my
safe place, my empty White Room...polishing every floor until it was
pristine and perfect. I took a deep breath of lemony Lysol and looked
around me...I had finished! I wondered how much time it took when an alarm
told me it took just long enough.

I made my way back down to the basement with a calm confidence like I'd
never felt before. As I showered and got ready for bed, I saw Sakura across
the room, the water cascading off her smooth skin, cleaning what little I'd
missed. She didn't utter a word, but her almost imperceptible nod told me
everything I needed to know. I drifted off to sleep that night content in
the knowledge that I'd proved myself worthy of every challenge I met that
day, and I'd even made a friend of sorts along the way.

That night, the crack in the pavement widened, allowing a small patch of
brilliant green to burst through...

...

Twosday

It's funny how quickly something as mind blowing as sissy slavery can
become routine, but after just a few days, I was already thinking of my
schedule of teasing and toning, mind control and mind fucks, cleaning and
getting dirty, and the usual surprises as just another day. Hopefully it
would be one day closer to sissy perfection...and hopefully, once I
attained it, I would finally understand why I wanted it so bad...and who I
was doing it for...

But there was no time for introspection in my schedule, or else they would
have made an alarm for that. So it was off to breakfast and avoiding
Isabella's gaze...even though she didn't bother to look at me...Then there
were the usual dishes and disses, but they seemed more playful now, as if I
was becoming one of the gurls. The only thing different about breakfast was
that Lola was eating with us as well, but she didn't seem to enjoy the
company. She sat at her own table, as if she considered us beneath
her...which was especially hurtful considering we were...

But there was no time in the schedule for hurt feelings, so I was off to my
way-too-physical training. Enduring the agony of muscles stretched to their
breaking point...and somehow past them...was nothing compared to enduring
the ecstasy of muscles tightening around Dirk's meaty fingers...holding
onto the ballet bar for dear life, trying to keep from falling into the
abyss of bliss...and barely holding on until the end of the session. But
today wouldn't be like any other day after all. Apparently I had impressed
Dirk by holding out two days in a row, so much so that he stopped me a
moment after the alarm went off, saying, "I'm surprised you're coming along
so well...or not cumming I guess...but I've decided to reward you. Lola
will meet you after your next lesson and 'fill you in' on the details."
Dirk was the master of the single entendre, but with a body like his, he
didn't need brains. Neither did I, I suppose...

Which must be why I was so eager for my 're-education' lesson. After all,
it had helped me so much already, and I had worked up the courage to ask
for an advanced lesson. Whispering, "Monsieur mystery voice? I have a petit
request. I am struggling wiz ze self control. I don't want to cum before
mon Master, but eet is so hard. Can't you do anyzing to help?"

"I...give me a moment..." I didn't know what to think...I'd never heard him
falter before. Had I made a terrible mistake? Did I ask for too much? Did I
just prove I could never be a proper sissy, much less a perfect one? These
were just a few of the questions racing around in my head, crashing into
each other in a jumble of confusion and self doubts. His answer was
surprising, "My apologies, Belle. It's just that no one's ever asked for
that before. Usually you sissies want to get away with cumming as often as
possible. That's why the technique you are asking for is so rarely
used. It's a direct assault on your very nature, your every instinct. It
could result in total psychological breakdown if you don't embrace it
110%. Are you willing to risk that?"

I didn't even have to think about it. I would risk anything for my Master
Isabella...I meant my Mistress Darren...I meant to be his...hers perfect
sissy...I didn't know what I meant, but I knew what I wanted. "Oui,
Monsieur. I will fight to ze last breath. If I can not be ze perfect sissy,
zen I might as well be brain dead." At least I sounded sure of my self. And
I was determined to ride that false wave of confidence to the finish line,
telling myself over and over that I could do it...

"Very well...but you'd better be right, or it's both our asses. Now close
your eyes and count backwards from one hundred...I want you to listen to me
very carefully...you will not cum unless given permission by your Master or
Mistress...you will be UNABLE to cum without permission...you will be a
good sissy." I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer to the god of not
cumming...

...

I opened my eyes and felt a throbbing pressure in groin. I was afraid to
ask, but I managed to whisper, "Did eet work?" I looked down to see my clit
hard as it's ever been...a drop of precum glistening like a precious pearl,
but no matter how fast I used my pinky to rub my little clitty, I couldn't
cum..."Mon Dieu! Eet worked! Zank you...zank you zank you!"


"No, Belle, thank you. It makes me proud to see such a dedicated
pupil. Now head off to your next lesson, poppet, you've done more than
enough for one day." I was bursting with pride...well almost bursting...but
that would have to wait until I had permission. I couldn't wait to test my
new training...I was so excited that Lola had to shout down the hallway
before I remembered I was supposed to meet her...

"HEEEEEY! Puta tonta! Why are you running away from me? I haven't even told
you what we're doing on our little date tonight." I stopped dead in my
tracks and sheepishly walked towards her, embarrassed that she thought I
was so afraid of her, but too afraid of her to correct her. When I finally
got to her, I couldn't even look her in the eye. All of the adrenaline
coursing through my veins from my blocked up bliss was making me tremble
uncontrollably, which only made me look more terrified. I almost jumped out
of my skin when she took my hand and hers, which made her laugh
lowly..."Haha. Pobrecito Belle...no necitas to be afraid of me. I'm not
like that culo, Cunt. I'd never hurt another sissy...unless I was ordered
too." I managed the courage to look into her eyes and was surprised to see
there wasn't a hint of mischief or malice in them at the moment. Maybe I'd
misjudged her because of the company she kept, and it's not like she had a
choice in who her Master...or Mistress was. Maybe she wasn't a sadistic
bitch like Contessa or a selfish b**st like Dirk. Sure she was passionate,
and if pushed to it, she could be rough. But could anyone with eyes as
brown and soft as a bear cub really want to maul me? "Which brings us to el
gimnasio."

She led me to a gymnasium, but not the one where I trained every
morning...no this one dwarfed that one. Stadium seating surrounded me, all
the more terrifyingly impressive for its emptiness. I wondered just what
the Hell they were building down here...and what kind of sports they
expected to watch sissies play. Didn't they know we weren't good at sports?
So what were we expected to do in a giant plexi-glass octagon? When I saw
Dirk standing in the middle of the cage wearing a referee's uniform I began
to get some idea. Lola wasn't so much holding my hand anymore as she was
dragging me towards the ring...her face had gone blank, impassive. I would
have preferred anger, at least that has some warmth to it...

"GOOOOOOOD EEEEEEEEVENING, FIGHT FANS!" Dirk bellows into a microphone, his
voice amplified and coming at us in surround sound. "Have we got a show for
you tonight! Live via pay per view, the first online sissy fight of the
HAROOOOOOOOW HOOOOOOOOUSE!" I looked up and noticed the cameras surrounding
the rim of the octagon, as well as several on motorized tracks above the
stage. They'd be able to get every angle...zoom in on every nook and
cranny...and get my face so crystal clear and in High Def...no amount of
surgery would hide my identity for long....for the first time since I was
sent down to the Basement I felt the fear of exposure. Everyone would
know...my friends...my extended family...my ex girlfriends...they would all
see what I had become. I felt the knot in the pit of my stomach tighten
into a noose...and the pressure in my sissy sack swell more than ever. I
was a sick little sissy...

I stepped...or more accurately, was pushed up the steps and inside the
octagon. The cage closed behind me and I instinctively backed away from
her, my hands moving to cover my breasts and sissy clit, proving entirely
to small for one and overkill for the other...I feel the cold clear wall
against my back, I knew I had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I'd have to
wait this out and see where it led...even if all signs pointed straight to
Hell... "Now you already know the first rule of Sissy Fight Club, fight
fans! Tell EEEEEVERYONE about SISSY FIGHT CLUB! And rule number 2? Tell
EEEEEVERYONE about SISSY FIGHT CLUB! This is a pay-per-view after all, and
we want the largest audience possible." Largest...audience...possible...I
wanted to die...or at least do my make up...

"Rule number 3 of Sissy Fight Club, the first sissy to pin the other in a
three count or make the other tap out, wins! The prize? She gets to do
whatever she wants with the loser for an uninterrupted hour of pure
fuckening! Beat that on any other site!" Dirk turned away from the mike for
a second to sweeten the pot, whispering "And she also gets to spend the
night with me in a warm cozy bed with my warm cozy cock snuggled up inside
her cunt." I met eyes with Lola, and realized why she was so eerily
calm. She wanted to win. It didn't matter that she spent almost every
night in Dirk's cozy bed and with his cozy cock...she wanted more. I can't
say as I blamed her, but I hoped she would blame me taking her to the
mat. I also hoped I'd figure out how to do that in the next ten seconds,
because that's how long Dirk was counting down before the match began...

"ONE!" I barely registered the word when I felt an explosion in my soft
stomach as Lola drove her shoulder into me with a flying lunge. The air was
forced from me in an anguished gasp, the pain hit my head like a freight
train, derailing it and leaving me helpless to respond. I was pinned
against the glass like some exotic butterfly, paralyzed with pain and
indecision...and Lola was just getting warmed up...

"And Belle kisses the floor like it was her boyfriend as Lola executes a
picture perfect back flip. Lola comes from the mean streets of Mexico City,
and Belle is used to resting on the pampered pillows of this very estate,
so she has a long, hard road ahead of her if she hopes to best her
opponent. But if there's one thing I know about Belle...she loves it LONG
and HARD!" Dirk was getting into his role as announcer/ref, which hardly
surprised me...he was a bombastic asshole, it was one of his best trait
really, and it made him a natural to jovially announce my true identity to
a viewing public of perverted voyeurs. But in a way, he did me a
favor...knowing I was exposed...well beyond the fact that I was completely
nude of course...it made me realize my reputation was on the line. And if
my legacy was to be a sissy gladiator, then I wanted to be a champion...

I took the pain covering my body like a poisoned blanket and I soaked it
up, pulling it into a tight ball of rage and waiting to unleash it all on
Lola in one decisive strike. Luckily for me, she had already counted me
out, taking her time to walk over to my pitiful prone frame. She was
playing to the cameras, striking a pose as she sauntered over to me,
confident she would have no trouble in finishing me off. I held my breath,
waiting until she lunged toward me, and then I rolled out of the way,
sending her crashing into the hard mat, with me following fast behind,
driving my shoulder into her back and hearing her cry out in astonished
agony. "I don't believe it, the worm has turned, and Lola is in danger of
being turned out. But can Belle press the advantage?" Maybe if I pressed
the advantage, if I followed through with my plan of attack and turned her
over, pinning her before she could recover...but maybes don't bring you the
honey...they just sting...

Lola didn't flinch, the moment I relaxed my grip she threw me off of her in
a display of overwhelming strength...or at least a display of average
strength which completely overwhelmed a weakling like me. She was on me in
a second, her knees crushing my thighs, pinning my legs down...her left arm
finding mine and bringing it crashing down to the mat. All I had free was
my right arm, desperately thrashing, trying to avoid hers as they danced
with each other passionately. I thought that if I only I could keep my arm
free, maybe I would have a chance, maybe she would get impatient, make a
mistake, maybe I'd have a chance to win, to prove I was the better
sissy...but then she played dirty...

"UH OH...it looks like Belle is in serious trouble. Lola has he in one of
her patented lip locks. And what sissy would want to break out of that?"
Her kisses were urgent, hungry, I thought she might keep my tongue she
sucked on it so hard and if nothing else was bruised by the end of this
fight, I'm sure my lips would be. I felt like I'd been hit with a
haymaker...my head was swimming and I couldn't think of a single reason to
push her off me now. Her breasts crushed against mine, our hard nipples
rubbing against each other with fiery friction...her cock was hard and
growing harder against my soft stomach...and I wanted it inside me...her
fingers interlaced with mine as she held my hand lovingly against the mat
and pinned my tongue down with her own for a "ONE...TWO...THREE!"
count. When she finally freed my limbs, they instinctively wrapped around
her, my legs encircling her hips and my hands running through her luxurious
black hair, pulling her mouth into mine forgetting for the moment that I
had just lost...it felt so much like winning. The moment didn't last...

"Well I can't say much for the match, fight fans, but you fuck fans are in
for a treat. This is Belle's first time in the octagon, and Lola just loves
to pound a sissy after she's just finished pounding her! Isn't that right,
Lola?" She gave him a big 'si' by breaking our kiss and almost breaking my
neck after she stood up and dragged me by my hair up to her hard throbbing
sissy sausage. I could hear the crowd explode into applause, then I
remembered there was no crowd and I realized it must the be the roar of the
blood rushing to my head.

As disgusted as I was with myself for being exposed online and losing my
debut match in a phenomenally pathetic fashion, I couldn't help but be
turned on my the depravity of it all. Just when I thought I'd gone as low
as I could, I find out that the pit in my stomach is bottomless. So it was
with a simmering sense of shame, that I closed my eyes and closed my lips
around Lola's spongy cock-head... "NO!" A slap knocks the lust from my eyes
and leaves them teeming with tears. Lola's expression turns dark as she
spits out, "Tu have to ask por favor first."

"suh suh Sorry, Lola..." and as ridiculous as it sounded, it was true. I
was sorry I lost and failed to prove I was the best sissy. I was sorry I
lost my head and started giving head before asking permission. And I was
sorry that everyone and my grandma was going to see it streaming live. I
felt guilty from every angle I looked at it, and I didn't know which view
was the right and which was askew. So I did what I always do when I'm
confused, I obeyed..."May I pretty pleez suck your cock? Uhm por favor?"

She took advantage of my open mouth, answering in the affirmative by
thrusting her cock down my throat, making me sputter and gag. "That's mi
chica...take mami's cock...get it nice and wet for your tight little
culo..." Her voice was almost musical, as if she were serenading me. Her
dominant side was on display and I could tell she was really getting into
the role...whether it was for the benefit of the audience at home or for
Dirk or maybe even for me, I couldn't tell. What I did know was that the
last time I had my throat fucked like that, it was her boyfriend doing the
pounding. She wasn't quite as impressively endowed as her Master, but she
was no slouch in the sissy clit department. I had just managed to get her
entire length down my throat, and the lack of oxygen and sheer
submissiveness of the act was making me tingle all over, all the way down
to my throbbing clit. I didn't know how I would be able to endure much more
of this. I felt like any second I'd burst a blood vessel and cum would
start spewing from every orifice in a gooey geyser. And then, of course,
things got worse..."Hey, chica, I want to see you play with your clit for
me. Go on, show me how horny I make you."

I whimpered and moaned and drooled on her dick as it slid in and out of my
throat, every vein pulsing against my throat sending a sympathetic signal
down to my little nub, telling it to spurt all over myself. But an
invisible membrane stretched impossibly thin prevented my release, bringing
tears of shame and frustration to my eyes which Lola considerately wiped
away with her hot cum. "You leave that on there now, puta. I like my sluts
to wear makeup." An orgasm imploded inside me, like cramps of pleasure
wracking my body. I looked up at her pleadingly, nursing on her beautiful
bronzed balls, hoping she would see the hunger in my eyes and let me
cum. She saw it alright...she just didn't care...

"WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Now that's a sticky way to start her fight career, and
Belle's suffering is just beginning. I can see Lola's love stick rising to
the occasion, ready for the sloppy second round. And would you look at
this? Belle is already on all fours, ass waving hello in the air. Her
bottom bunk bitch instinct must have kicked in, because she's offering her
pussy up like it's tax deductible." I tried to hide my blushing
cheeks...well the parts you could see the through the cum, but with as many
cameras as were surrounding me, it was a futile fight. So as usual, I
surrendered...licking my lips and blowing a kiss to the camera as Dirk
continued making his dumb jock jokes at my expense. Once I got into the
role of the reluctant but ultimately wanton whore, it was easier to think
of my self disgust as character motivation, and the painful pressure in my
loins as method acting. And when Lola pulled my soft buttocks apart with
her strong hands and rubbed her cock in between my ass cleavage, I wasn't
as worried about being humiliated any more...I just wanted her inside me.

"Pleez...por favor...pretty pleez...fuck me..." I looked up at her with
tears in my eyes, pleading to be penetrated. I didn't have to beg...nothing
in the world would have stopped Lola from spraying her seed deep inside my
ass...but I know it's what they wanted to hear. I regretted it
immediately...well almost immediately...nothing can take away from the pure
satisfaction of hot flesh filling my pussy. It made me feel...whole. Of
course, it also pushed down my cum button and sent my body into orgasm
overload only to be painfully blocked at the moment of climax. I was
starting to realize why no sissy had ever volunteered for this treatment
before....it was unbearable. Only now, I had no choice but to bear it...and
I was entirely at their mercy. Of course, they didn't have any.

"Now ladies and gentleman, I don't double as referee and announcer here at
Sissy Fight Club for the health plan." I turned my head to see Dirk
undressing his body glowing under the lights, like a pornographic angel. He
knelt behind Lola, taking her cantaloupe sized...and cantaloupe sweet
buttocks in his thick mitts and spreading them wide, then ramming into her
with savage force. I yelped as he drove her deeper into me with every
thrust, until I was half convinced he pushed all the way through her and
into me.

"OOH PAPI! That's it...make me the carne in a sissy sandwich!" Lola was
lost in her lust filled fog, dick dumbed and cum crazed, thrusting her hips
in time with Dirk, hitting my sweet spot with alarming accuracy. It was
like an avalanche was crashing down on me, growing more and more powerful
as it rolled downhill from Dirk's dick to Lola's luscious ass and from her
sissy clit to my tight pussy until I was crushed under the weight of
pleasure. But no matter how hard I was pushed into the mat by the
collective power of their hard fuck...no matter how sweetly Lola twisted my
achingly hard nipples or groped my soft breasts...no matter how sweetly she
sucked on my neck or nibbled on my shoulder...I...COULD...NOT...CUM...

Finally, in a moment of desperation, I begged..."Have pitié...I can not
cum wizout permission...pleeez Lola...tell me I can cum!" I looked up into
her eyes hoping for a hint of kindness behind the mask of furious
lust...one I hoped was mostly for the benefit of the cameras. I was looking
very closely, wearing my own desperation and vulnerability naked on my
face, practically oozing it...so I got a very good look at the glob of spit
that hit my face in response...

"Losers don't get to cum, putaaaaAAAAAHHHHIIIIIEEEEE!" Lola let out a
savage war cry as she filled my guts with cum. My busted capillaries soaked
up every last d**ggy drop sending the usual dopey dreamy rush to my head,
only this time without the profound release...leaving me clutching to the
floor as it spun faster and faster, making me worry I'd be thrown from
orbit. My entire body felt like it had been crammed into a cock cage after
ingesting a bottle of Viagra. As I lie twitching on the mat, Lola was
triumphantly making out with her Master, claiming her prize proudly for all
the world to see. A sick, scary thought crossed my mind...at least it made
for great footage...the tears would look especially pitiful when the mixed
with the cum caking my cheeks. I swore to myself that I'd show them a
comeback story next time.

My ears were ringing...it almost sounded like the alarm..."And that sound
signals the end of our show for today folks. Thanks for watching, and don't
forget the first and second rule of Sissy Fight Club...tell EEEEEEVERYONE
ABOUT SISSY FIGHT CLUB!" The stage lights dimmed and Dirk nudged me with
his foot. "That means get your ass up and hit the showers, Belle. We'll let
you out of doing chores today, because let's face it, you probably can't
even lift a sponge after that. So get cleaned up and turn in early."

I nodded meekly and struggled to my feet, determined to show I still had
some strength left in my limbs. And so it was on rubbery, faltering legs
that I made my way to the showers and then collapsed under a spray,
wondering if I'd ever go more than a day without sobbing in the showers. At
least I was able to avoid the other gurls, they were all off on their
chores when I tucked myself into my cot, slipping into u*********sness in
moments, telling myself tomorrow would be better, even as I worried things
could always get worse...

In my dreams I was back in the field, and at first I was relieved to see it
was back in full bloom, but as I was skipping merrily through the grove, I
heard a metallic click upon stepping on a patch of grass. Suddenly clear
walls popped out from the ground forming an octagon. I ran from wall to
wall trying to find an exit, but there was no opening...and the walls were
closing in...tighter and tighter until I couldn't breathe...I tried to
scream, but I couldn't find the air...and then...

Whensday...

I woke up shaking the webs of my nightmare from my head and bounded out of
bed with a spring in my step. It was a new day, and a new chance to prove
myself. And I figured that I wouldn't have to wrestle anytime soon. And
with my last match ending so quickly, maybe I wouldn't be wrestling ever
again. As humiliating as that would be, I was half way hoping I wouldn't be
given another chance to fail so miserably. These were the thoughts that
sped me along through breakfast and towards my lesson with Dirk. I was
thinking of the best way to apologize, but his toothy grin derailed my
train of thought.

"Great news, Belle. You're a star! We had our best replay ratings of any
match we've ever had. I thought people would feel ripped off that the fight
was so pitifully short, but apparently pitiful sells. So we've got a
rematch lined up for you today." I managed a meek whimper I hoped would
sound enthusiastic while inwardly I was filled with dread.

So much for my solemn vow to prove victorious in my next bout. I was
already throwing in the cum rag before I stepped in the ring. Even the
usually oblivious Dirk noticed my lack of morale, giving me a hard swat
during my stretches that left me screeching. "HEY! You better not be
thinking of losing again! Because whatever happens in the ring, you better
be giving it your all until the final bell. That's what your fans pay to
see, and from the comments left on your video, you have a lot of fans from
your old school." I gritted my teeth and threw myself into my exercises,
furious with Dirk for needling me about my old life and even more furious
with myself for giving up without a fight.

So it was with a spirit of determined desperation that I went to my next
lesson, begging my faceless instructor, "Pleez! Can you give me somezing to
make me a better fighter? I am weeling to do anyzing to win zis next match
wiz Lola!"

"Ah...Dirk has wrangled you into wrestling in his Sissy Fight Club, has he?
He's an enterprising young man, I'll give him that. But I'm afraid I can't
help you. I'm not allowed to give you sissies any combat skills, for
obvious reasons." I felt guilty just for asking, and even more firmly
convinced of the futility of fighting against a sissy in a weight class
above me. That is, until he said, "But more importantly, you already have
everything you need to beat her. I'm sure she is stronger than you, in fact
other than Isabella, she is doubtlessly the physically strongest sissy in
The Basement. So ask yourself this...why is she Contessa's bitch?" The
gears in my head started turning, but I couldn't get any traction. Still I
knew there was something there...something I could use to win..."But for
now, I want you to close your eyes and count backwards from 100...I have
some acting lessons to give you that will come in handy when you go pro." I
nodded obediently and closed my eyes, hoping I'd wake up with the answer...

...

I woke up with just as many questions as before, and when my instructor
told me it was time to go, I had to peel myself from the chair and take
tiny, deliberate steps out into the hall. Every step was one step closer to
humiliation and defeat...unless I could figure out why Lola was Contessa's
bitch. Before I got one step out into the hall, she had already taken my
hand in hers, saying, "Hola, chica...let's vamanos. Master es waiting."

Looking up at her didn't help boost my confidence. She was bigger than me,
stronger than me, and stronger too. Everything about her advertised her
passionate appetite, from her wavy untamed raven locks..her hungry eyes and
hungrier lips, perpetually wet from her running her tongue over them...her
larger than life figure, a bronzed Barbie clearly built for sex...and God
help anyone that got between her and a hard cock. So how was I supposed to
beat her? There's no way I could pin her...I didn't have the muscle
power. I was even smaller than Contessa, and she was a tiny little
thing...and that's when it hit me...

Contessa was strong for her size, that much was true, but with Lola's size
advantage, she should never have been able to overpower her. So there was
only way she could have forced her to be her bitch even though they were of
equal standing as kept sissies...she hurt her. I'm sure Lola must have hurt
Contessa more than Lola hurt her, but Contessa could take it...and Lola
obviously couldn't. She must have outlasted her and dominated her when she
had nothing left to fight back, hurting her in a way she would remember
every time she was about to talk back. The question was, could I do the
same? Lola stopped me right before the entrance to the gym, saying, "I
wasn't to say lo siento before we go in, chica. If I'm going to top
yesterday's performance, I'm gonna have to get muy loco on your ass." I
just looked up at her and smiled sweetly...of course I could...because I
had no choice.

My mind raced, almost it was out of breath before it reached the finish
line, but I had my plan. I slinked over to Master Dirk and made a humble
request before the match started. "Master Dirk, pardonnez-moi for being
presumptuous, but eef you want ze match to last longer zan last time, maybe
we could make eet a capitulation match?" At first Dirk looked annoyed that
I had even dared to speak to him, but I could see the idea slowly work its
way through his brain, finally reach his mouth and spreading it into a wide
grin.

"GOOOOOOOD EEEEEEEEVENING FIIIIIIIGHT FANS! Have we got a match for you
tonight...our newcummer, the blushing Belle, has challenged her opponent to
a SUUUUUUUBMISSION MATCH! That's right, no count outs, no bell to save
Belle. The first sissy to tap out or cry mercy loses. So, has Belle got a
trick up her cunt, or does she just love submitting? Let the cuntestants
take places and we'll find out in 10...9...8..." As he counted down, I
asked myself the same question...was I really trying to win this fight? Or
did I just want to make losing that much more humiliating? I pushed the
thought out of my mind...I'd have my answer in 3...2...1...

Lola was on me like greased lightening, spearing me in my still-sore
shoulder and driving me into the mat. She didn't give me a second to think,
taking my ankle and twisting it at an acutely agonizing angle. A
bloodthirsty b**st gnawed my ankle with fangs dripping with pain...I
screamed like a dying bird, thrashing helplessly as pain overwhelmed my
nervous system. Had I been beaten so soon? "Has Belle been beaten so soon?
Lola has her firmly locked in an ankle hold, will she set a new record for
submission today? Is Belle poised to become a Hall of Fame failure?"
No...no I would not...

I twisted my body towards her grip, using the momentum to free my ankle and
pull my leg away from her grip. She must have been just as surprised as me,
because she paused, unsure of what to do next...but I knew exactly what to
do...I sprang back lunging for her arm, which was still hanging in mid air,
and pinning it behind her back, twisting it painfully while staying out of
her long reach. "Sorry, Fuck Fans, it looks like we might just have to sit
through a fight today after all. But what a fight...Belle has turned the
tables on Lola and has her arm pinned. Will Lola submit? Or can she
overpower the itty bitty Belle?" I wished he wouldn't have encouraged her,
because that's exactly what she did...taking her free arm and driving her
elbow into my ribs, making me loosen my grip so she could free her arm.

And just as quickly, she was leaping for me, her face contorted into a
fright mask of rage. I did what any brave warrior would in that
situation...I scurried backwards until I could get onto my feet and then I
ran in circles backwards, staying out of reach as she hurled obscenities at
me. "PUTA! COWARD! WEAKLING! LUCHA ME!" I must have lapped that octagon
twenty times, feeling Dirk's eyes boring into me, his disgust and disdain
hanging palpably in the air along with the heat of Lola's fury. But I
waited, maintaining my breathing thanks to my exercises, and waiting until
I heard "CHINGAS TU huff huff MADR-" and just like that, I was on her like
a second skin, knocking what little air she had left out of her with a
flying tackle and taking her head between my thighs and squeezing for dear
life.

"OOOOOH MY GOD! DID YOU SEE THAT, FIGHT FANS? BELLE JUST FLOATED LIKE A
BUTTERFLY AND STUNG LIKE A BEEYOCH! Lola is trapped between Belle's thighs,
which second to her sissy pussy, is a sissy's strongest muscles! Can she
hope to escape?" She couldn't...I could tell from the look of resignation
in her eyes. She knew she wasn't going to endure this for much longer and
she didn't see a way out. I decided to help her make up her mind and
reached behind me and twisted her nipples like I wanted them for a
souvenir...it didn't take long after that for her hand to hit the mat. "DO
YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES?! BELLE WINS! BELLE WINS! BELLE WINS!" I through my
arms up in victory, letting Dirk lift me up so the cameras could capture my
ecstatic expression. Far from being embarrassed at the idea of everyone I
knew seeing this, I was proud...in that moment, I felt like a winner...a
champion...the perfect sissy...

Lola looked up at me in disbelief, as if she was trying to figure out who I
was and why I looked so much like the subby little sissy at the bottom of
the food chain. I saw her eyes get cloudy with that familiar look of being
lost in a fog of lust, ready to surrender everything to me. I was just as
confused as her...I didn't know who she was looking at, but it wasn't
me. Sure, I won...and it felt good to prove my strength...but that just
made me want to surrender it all the more. It's easy to surrender when you
have no choice, when you're actually giving up something...that's a true
slave. I had her for an hour, and all I could think to do with her was
whimper, "I'm sorry I hurt you, Lola...maybe vous would feel better if you
fucked ze cum out of my pazetic little sissy clit." And just like that, she
recognized me again...

It was a strange sort of victory, on the one hand, I proved I could outlast
Lola, and I was finally going to get to cum after an unthinkable dearth of
two days. On the other hand, I won the right to willingly be debased and
dominated, and now everyone out in cyberland knew it. Of course that led to
the usual cocktail of giddy guilt and panting pride...and I wasn't sure
which one I loved to hate more, but I was sure where I belonged, on my
knees begging, "Pleez, baisez-moi! Baisez-moi fucking hard!"

Lola didn't leave me waiting long...as soon as the words were out of my
mouth they were replaced with her cock instead, letting me lovingly lube it
up for my hungry cunt. Her flavors danced on my tongue, a slight tang with
an aftertaste of some mango body oil, I could nurse on her for days...but I
didn't have days. She laughed as she saw me shake my ass, letting the
undulating ripples serve as an eager invitation. Punctual as ever, Lola
moved behind me, spreading me slowly...letting me feel every vein and ridge
of her throbbing clit...her breasts crushed against my back, reminding me
that it was a sissy I was submitting to...her lips tracing along my
spine...sending sweltering chills as she planted wet sucking kisses along
my neck, my pulse racing on her tongue...until she finally reached my ears,
her lips latched onto my delicate lobes and her tongue flicking lewdly
inside them...waiting until her fat clit-head crushed against my sissy spot
to whisper, "Cum for me, mi bonita..." And with that 48 excruciatingly long
hours, 286 almost unendurable minutes, 17, 160 screeching boiler ready to
explode seconds finally ended in a sticky shower of celebration. My body
seized as it attempted to understand the profound sensations roaring
through it at the speed of squirt, but that was like an ant trying to
translate the language of God...the most I could manage was to bask in its
incomprehensible beauty...eventually the moment passed and I could breathe
again...and then things got really good...

"Alright FUCK FANS, I know you all want to see me spit roast this sissy,
and if you don't, then start your own sissy fighting league!" I certainly
wasn't going to argue. A sticky secret fantasy of mine since I started down
the slippery slope of sissydom was to be double teamed by two studs...and
if one of the studs was a sissy, all the better. My throat felt hot and raw
and my pussy exposed and ultra-sensitive and every thrust of Dirk's dick
pushed me deeper onto Lola's clit, and every time her silky soft hips
crashed into my well cushioned ass it drove me Dirk's hard gluts. I was
getting seesawed until it was like there was one fat cock inside me and I
was being pulled back and forth on it.

Of course that illusion was delightfully shattered when Dirk pulled out and
announced, "Alright, Fuck Fans, it's time to tag out and switch holes! But
first...NNNH" at first I thought he slapped me in the face, but it was just
the force of his seed exploding onto me point blank. Lola didn't need
anymore prompting, she followed suit, filling my guts and filling me with
that ooey gooey orgasm overdrive. I thrashed on the floor like a dying fish
as Lola and Dirk sucked face above me, Lola stroking him back to hardness
and Dirk squeezing her breasts and rubbing her nipples with his coarse
thumbs until her clit was hard and dripping. And almost faster than I could
say, "Pleez...por favor...pretty pleez with a cerise on top...fuck my sissy
chatte and bouche!" I'm not sure how fluent they were, but they seemed to
speak sissy slut well enough to stuff both of my holes...

"Go on, Belle, show all the nice people at home what a filthy whore you
are. Cum again and again. Cum until you run dry!" Dirk gave me all the
permission I needed, and so the next hour past in slow motion and was over
in an instant...like a waking wet dream...or a car accident. I wasn't a
human anymore...not even a sissy...Hell, I wasn't even a fuck pig. I was a
clusterfuck of orgasms, exploding against one another wetly, the searing
heat momentarily agonizing and then obliterating me with pleasure so pure,
it could be classified as a controlled substance. My brain brain finally
caught up and was able to process all the wet smacking sounds, the musky
floral fragrances, the meaty male tastes with a hint of sissy sweetness,
the sights of the hedonistic tableau, and the stretched to the limit and
loving it feelings. And once I could think, all I could think about was
hitting that next peak and exploding again...I only needed a few more
minutes...and then the bell rang...

With a wet plop and a wetter whimper they pulled out of me. I should have
remembered the first rule of show business. Always leave the audience
wanting more...still, they did give me a sticky encore. Covering my
upturned face with ropes of the jism. I looked almost like angelic when it
caught the light...but then it was a short lived illusion as it hit my
eyes, leaving me blind and sticky until I felt Lola's lascivious tongue
lapping it up. My skin tingled against her tongue and I squirmed in her
soft hands...by the time she had me completely clean I'd never felt
dirtier, and when stuck her tongue in my panting mouth to feed me the rest,
I tasted what the breakfast of champions truly meant. Our tongues wrestled
to fight over every last drop, and when there was none left to fight over,
I let her win...pinning my tongue down as he kissed me passionately. But
Dirk pulled her off of me by the hair, reminding her cruelly who the real
winner was, "What do you think you're doing, Lola? The cameras stopped
rolling. That means you go spend the night with the rest of the sissies
while I take Belle up to my room to snuggle. And don't you dare pout...I
lost a cool five grand on you today and I'm going to get every dollar's
worth tomorrow night."

I looked at Lola over Dirk's shoulder as he carried me away, feeling sorry
for her and a little guilty that she had to pay the price for my
reward...but not so guilty that I didn't snuggle up closer to Dirk's strong
chest, resting my head in the crook between his neck and shoulder and half
dozing as he took me through the halls and up and out of the basement. I
barely noticed Dale as we passed, but judging from his slack jawed
expression, he noticed me just fine. I couldn't resist giving him a little
wink. For as much fun as he had humiliating me back when I was still almost
a man, I figured I'd earned the right to tease him now that I was a drop
dead sexy sissy and he'd half to wait 2 more years before he turned 21 and
could get a taste of my sweet honeypot.

I was exhausted when we got to Dirk's room, which looked more like a
hunter's den for all the poor a****l heads he had cruelly hung on his
wall. Still there was something about his predatory nature that made me
want to offer him my throat and I gave no resistance when he tossed me onto
his king size bed and covered me in his tiger skin blanket. Over the next
how ever many hours, he proved to me that his endurance was more than the
match of my appetite, and I felt like I was bagged, stuffed, and mounted
like a trophy by the time I fell asleep in his arms, and with his best
feature still nestled inside me.

In my dream the field had turned to a veldt, and I lay with a lion, petting
his soft fur. Suddenly, he turned on me, pinning me to the ground and
lunging for my throat with his dripping fangs...I woke up smiling...

Hersday.

I woke up in Dirk's arms, and I wriggled against him, feeling him grow hard
inside me. I squeezed down on him and rotated my hips, using his cock as a
sex toy, unable to cum, but getting oh so close, and knowing it would be a
welcome wake up call for him. I feel him throbbing against my love button,
sending his love into me, filling me up to the point of bursting, but not
beyond. In my frenzied state, I dared hope he'd wake up and give me my
morning workout there and then, but when he finally stirred, he just made a
halfhearted grunt, and lazily pulled me up and down on his cock a few times
and then unleashed inside me with a sigh. "Morning, Belle. Whew, thanks for
the wake up call. Now be a dear and go eat your breakfast. You've got a big
day ahead of you. You can skip our workout today, trust me you'll get
plenty of exercise. Just head off to your relaxation lessons and then wait
for me then pick out your sexiest maid outfit. You're going pro today."

I nodded meekly, but inside I was filled with questions I didn't dare to
ask. Who was it going to be? What was I going to wear...and what would he
want me to do? Was I ready...did I want to be? Why couldn't I get rid of
this bottomless pit of worry in my stomach? The tension and fear followed
me through my breakfast and my quick shower. I pinned all my hopes on my
mysterious menor, hoping he would be able to teach me something that would
give me the confidence I needed to get through my first official time as a
sissy whore.

"You look nervous, Belle, let me guess, you are worried about your first
time going pro today. Well don't worry. With your training, you'll be more
than ready. In fact, today I only have a few minor odds and ends to teach
you, really just tying up loose ends. The truth is, there's not much more I
can teach you, and unless you need some extremely specific training for an
especially demanding client, we likely won't meet again. So if you'd like,
before you close your eyes, I'll let you ask me one question."

I didn't know what to think. I had so many questions, and all I really
wanted to ask was for him to be here everyday for me to come sit in his
chair and hear his dulcet tones. But I put all selfish thoughts aside and
another question surfaced, one that had been nagging me but that I'd been
to timid to ask. Since this might have been my last time to see him, I
decided it was now or never, asking, "I don't mean to be impolite, but zis
has been bozering moi. Are you happy? Because you have geeven me so much,
but I zink it would be very difficile for you to teach yourself. Who gives
you all zese wonderful feelings?"

"I...I'm afraid there isn't a good answer for that, Belle. But...thank you
for asking. I'll miss our lessons very much...and I wish you good
luck. Now, please, close your eyes and count down from one hundred." I
closed my eyes and started counting, hoping he was wrong and that this
wouldn't be the last time I heard his voice.

When I woke up he was gone. I just knew it. He was never in the room with
me before either, but I could feel his presence then. It was only when he
finally left me alone that I'd noticed the difference. But in a way, it was
better...he had placed his complete and total confidence in me, and I knew
I wasn't going to let him down. I raced to wardrobe and found my row,
finally deciding on a bag reading F-XXX. I knew I had found the right
one...

It was all rubber and latex of course, from the skintight white "stockings"
to the shiny black belt/skirt with a second layer of white ruffled
rubber. There where no panties of any sort, which I supposed was just as
well as I wasn't going to keep them on for long anyway. The top consisted
of the cutest black corset with a white apron design stenciled on the
front. My breasts were left fully exposed and fully accessibility, leaving
no illusion what sort of household duties I was hired for. The outfit was
completed with a plastic white bonnet that was curved in the front. I was
pretty sure I knew what it was supposed to catch. Well almost complete
anyway...at the bottom of the bag was a container of cherry flavored lube,
and I decided that it would probably be a good idea to add it to my
ensemble, squirting the entire bottle directly up my ass in preparation for
what was to cum. I paced impatiently waiting for the alarm that would tell
me where to go, and when I finally heard it, I raced over to room 104, not
sure what I'd find there...

What I found was Dirk standing in front of the door with a big sissy-eating
grin on his face. "I've got a surprise for you, Belle. I knew you might be
worried about your first time as a sissy whore, so I found some clients you
should be comfortable with...some of your old friends!" I couldn't
breathe...I felt like I'd just been punched in the stomach...Dirk kept
talking, but I only caught garbled fragments, as if I was hearing him from
underwater..."saw you on the pay per view and..." I tried to calm down,
tried to breathe..."of course I guess they wouldn't call themselves your
'friends' exactly, but..." I knew this would happen eventually, but I
avoided thinking about it, waiting to deal with it when the time finally
came. I never thought it would be so soon... "Of course it should have
tipped me off when there were four of them. No way you had four whole
friends in high school. Then they mentioned picking on you and..." But
ready or not, the time had come. And I knew I had to rise to the occasion,
or more likely, lower myself to it..."don't want you disappointing
me. You'll do what they say and you'll do it enthusiastically, understand?"
I couldn't fail now, not after working so hard...

"I won't disappoint vous, Master. You have moi promesse." I said it with
all the solemnity a sissy in a French fuck maid outfit can muster and then
some as I walk through the door, my head held low, determined to be the
best sissy I could be. What I saw as the door closed and bolted behind me
put my determination to the test. The walls were covered with a brick
facade, complete with filthy graffiti befitting a ghetto. The floor was
hard cement, adorned with used condoms and syringes and assorted filth to
add to the 'fantasy' of a back alley rendezvous. In the middle of the room
a bare, stained mattress lay, surrounded by four of my worst nightmares.

Brad Bentley, a spoiled shit poured into a sculpture of Adonis, naturally
perfect tan, teeth, and physique...devastating blue eyes, and features that
would give Michelangelo a woody...the BMOC of Templeton High, the most
exclusive private school in the state and one bearing my great great great
grandfather's name, a fact of which Brad never tired of reminding me when
he 'bumped' into me in the halls. His faithful henchman, Harold Hunt, a
hulking terror that confused obesity with manliness and never missed an
opportunity to throw his 'weight' around...still I had to admit his
features had a certain Bacchanalian appeal, with his bright green greedy
eyes and his luscious lusty lips. On the other side of the bed, his hands
already down his pants, was Nathan 'Nuthouse' Needlemeyer, a Boo Radley
looking motherfucker that only stayed out of Bellvue out of the grace of
his father's pocketbook. He was the kind of k** that played 'doctor' with
the neighborhood cats, and grew up into a gray-eyed, fleshy nightmare who's
features disappeared into a potato headed blob of too much 'pedigree
interbreeding'. Peeking behind him was the 'runt' of the group...standing
only five foot nine inches, Gareth Grayson more than made up for his size
difference in cruelty, his features perpetually turned up into a disgusted
sneer, as if constantly disappointed in all that creation had to offer to
him. All four were naked, and their cocks were rising to attention as they
saw me quivering in front of them. I managed to whimper, "Allo, monsieurs,
eet is my pleasure to serve you."

"Oh my, what have we here? Is this really all that's left of THE Byron
Templeton III?" Brad spat out every syllable of my old name like it was
poison. He made his way over to me, his eyes roaming hungrily over my body,
and when he reached me, his hands followed suit...

"Hurr hurr hurr pant pant I don't know, Brad...it looks like Belle has more
to offer than Byron ever did. She looks smack good enough to eat huff
huff." Harold hadn't even crossed the room and he was already out of
breath. I could tell I was going to have to do all the work with him, and
the thought of it didn't disgust me as much as I'd hoped it would. Of
course that might have had something to do with Brad's powerful hands
mauling my breasts or the way he stifled my desperate moans with his
forceful kiss.

"Little fucking whore, she's hardly even blushing," Boo...I mean Nathan
crossed the room and eased up behind me...he looked at me like I was
something he'd avoid stepping on to keep his shoes clean, but his cock
seemed to like me fine at least seven inches, nothing to write home about,
but beggars can't be choosers. And as humiliating as this was, I was ready
to beg them to fuck my brains out so I wouldn't have to thinks about
it. Suddenly, a thunderclap of pain struck by soft buttocks as Nathan's
hands crashed down from both sides. "There...now her cheeks are properly
red." I should have cried out at this treatment or cursed his name, but all
I did was pull my mouth away from Brad's, turning my head so he could crush
my plump lips against his thin grimace in a hateful kiss.

"Fuck yeah, show that bitch who's boss...fuck yeah..." Gareth was clearly
enjoying the show, stroking his decidedly unruntlike cock furiously as he
watched me writhe between his friends, feeling their cocks rub against my
soft skin and getting dizzy as they fought over possession of my sweet
lips, pulling me painfully by the hair and jerking me from mouth to
mouth. Maybe I should have resented the rough treatment, but I could have
kissed them for it...and did. Every second their mouths were clamped over
mine was a second they weren't laughing about the good old days. Every
spanking, hair pulling, or lip biting moment of pain, was one step further
from sanity, into a sublime sissy stupor.

So of course Brad had to break a heart breakingly heavy kiss and remember,
"Oh shit! I almost forgot! We were supposed to make her beg first!" He
drops me to the ground and I look up pleadingly as all four of them
surround me, sneering and stroking, but I see no pity in their eyes. My
money protected me from them before, they knew I'd have them expelled if
they so much as gave me a wedgie. But now...now there was nothing to stop
them from doing whatever they wanted to me, and nothing I could do to stop
myself for begging for it.

"I beg you!" I planted a wet kiss on Brad's foot then suckle on each one of
his toes..."Pleez!" I moved clockwise, giving Harold the same
treatment..."I beg of vous!" I felt a glob of spit it my face as I reach
Nathan's feet...it felt slimy and scorchingly shameful...it felt like a
kiss..."Merci! May I have anozer?" I finally ended with Gareth, who as
usual had to overcompensate, pushing my head to the floor with his foot and
having me kiss the ground he walked on. The floor tasted bitter and I
realized that they allowed this room to remain dirty to complete the back
alley ambiance. I kept my disgust to myself, a part of me worried I'd
scream out in rage and horror at my once hallowed name being degraded like
this, but a much more persuasive part of me telling me that this was
exactly what a sissy deserved, and I felt oddly grateful for their abuse
and was ready to beg for more. "Pleeze, I beg of you! I know I don't
deserve it, but pleez fuck me like the salope I am!"

As always, Brad spoke for the group, mercifully saying, "You know Byron,
you don't mind if I call you Byron do you? Where was I? Ah, you know Byron,
as often as you used to remind us of how beneath you we were because our
dads were only multimillionaires instead of multibillionaires, we should
just leave you here in your own filth to think on how far you've
fallen. But unlike you, we know the value of a dollar, and we each spent
10,000 of them to have you all night. So to start, you're going to suck all
of our cocks until you're covered in our cum. Then we're all going to fuck
that sweet ass of yours. And then we'll dispense with the foreplay and get
to the hardcore fun! So...SUCK!"

I didn't waste a second wondering how I got so lucky, and I started by
taking Brad's slightly above average cock into my mouth and sucking on his
soft spongy head. I didn't have time for romance but I wanted to show a
little flair so I rolled my tongue around his head and caught a drop of
pre-cum on the tip of my tongue in one deft motion. I marveled at the
taste, long grain rice and marscapone maybe, and moved onto the next
cock. Harold had as much girth around his cock as he did his belly, a fat
sausage that about split my jaw to fit inside. On the other hand, it was
only about six inches so fitting it down my throat was no problem, and
speaking of the other hand, one was busy jerking off Brad's spit slicked
cock, and the other was fondling Nathan's balls to get him nice and
ready. I turned my head and started nursing on Nathan's nuts, replacing my
hand with my warm mouth and using my free hand to jerk off Harold. I felt
like a total whore, taking on three guys at once, wondering how I could
sink any lower. Well Gareth answered my question as I opened wide to
swallow Nathan's prick, shoving his thick cock in beside Nathan's and
stretching my mouth around two cock heads. It was all I could do to keep
them in there, and I wasn't able to use much finesse. I drooled over their
dicks and ran my tongue between them, causing my chin to grow slick with
spittle, making me look like the dick dumb ditz I was turning into. And
that's when things got hazy...

Everything became a blur of slobbery slippery flesh and wet squelching
slaps...cocks were dangled just out of reach of my mouth, leaving me
lunging mindlessly, they were slid in between my heaving breasts, burning
my skin with sweltering shame and frustrating friction...they slapped my
cheeks hard enough to make me see stars and hit the back of my throat hard
enough to make me see past the firmament of stars into the secrets of
Heaven...they even ended up making lewd noises as they fucked my armpits
when they couldn't find another accessible crevice. I could almost make out
one throbbing member from another, a tantalizing texture caressing my
throat, an overpowering aroma forcing its way down my throat, a phantom
flavor tickling my taste buds...sure I could pick one out from the other
here and there, but then a voice would come out of nowhere and I'd forget
if it was their cock I was sucking or if maybe they were the ones using my
full cheeks like a hot dog bun and frotting me until I was begging to be
fucked. "Bitch...cunt...slut...whore...trash...cum catcher, swallower,
gargler, guzzler", and every other possible variation...but the worst thing
they called me, the name that rang out no matter how deeply I dived into
the deep end to drown in dick...was "Byron." No other name carried the
weight of a legacy lost and a life squandered. No other insult could cut as
deeply as the truth of what a pathetic creature I was, and what a pathetic
creature I had become. My only chance of salvation was to abandon Byron and
hope Belle could save me, to find the pride in her humiliation that I could
never achieve through Byron's lack of accomplishments. And after an unknown
period of time sucking and squelching, I was finally showered with
praises...

That's one of my favorite things about cum...well besides the taste, the
smell, and the way it cuddles lovingly against your skin...it's honest. No
matter how much abuse my old 'friends' hurled at me, no matter how high
their lips curled or eyebrows arched, their cum told me I'd done a good
job. And like a baptism, is cleansed my mind of all but the most profane
and impure thoughts, leaving me a wanton, hungry a****l, too far gone to
even beg for the release that made my sissy sac feel like it was going to
burst into blissful bloody bits...all I could do was scoop as much of their
cum off my tits and stomach and face and everywhere else and shovel it into
my greedy mewling mouth before someone said, "That's enough...you're just
going to get dirty again so you can clean up after we're done." Brad was so
dominant, so authoritative, the only one in the group that held a candle to
my Masters...it felt right to surrender to him...pure. Of course there was
a special thrill in submitting to the other foul and wretched creatures,
something so eerily erotic about how unappetizing they were.

Brad was the first to get hard...of course, so he was the one who claimed
first dibs on my tight ass. He picked me up and tossed me on the filthy
mattress, eliciting a girlish squeal from me. I immediately got on all
fours and spread my legs wide as I hiked up my heiny for easy access. I
cooed as he slid effortlessly slid inside me, every nerve ending standing
on edge, drinking in the silky smooth hardness of his tool, feeling the
already maddening pleasure percolating inside me start boiling over with
every incredible inch. I wanted to cum...needed to cum, but I didn't want
to seem selfish, so I waited for Brad to give me permission and resisted
the just barely bearable urge to beg. As if reading my mind, or hearing my
pathetic whimpers more likely, Brad finally said, "I'll bet you want to cum
pretty bad don't you? Well if you want our permission, I think you should
be willing to offer something in return."

"Anyzing, Monsieur Brad, Anyzing! I'll...I'll...well I don't know, I'm
already doing everyzing, aren't I?" I must have looked a pretty picture as
I milked his cock with my pussy and looked back with a porcelain fuck doll
face scrunched up in the cutest look of confusion...

"Heh heh...not EVERYTHING. No, what I want from you is more than you so
obviously want to give anyway. Not your mouth or pussy or breasts, or even
your arm pits, you filthy whore. I want your soul, and not this Disney porn
princess bit they've trained you to be. I want to hear from Byron. He can
have a faggy French accent, but he better be telling me about how much he
used to wanted me to fuck him when he was still a man. For every secret of
your past perversions you reveal, I'll let you cum."

I wasn't sure what to say...I knew I'd say whatever they wanted to hear if
it meant I got to cum, but I was at a loss. The truth was, before Isabella
seduced and sissified me, I'd never even thought of another guy that way,
and certainly not these four. In fact, I wasn't so sure why I found them so
attractive now. Brad certainly fit the classic cocky stud stereotype that
always seemed to make me drool, and Gareth was almost cute for a little
guy, plus he had a big cock, which went a long, hard way towards making up
for his personality flaws. But the other two were doughy, dopey, and
demented, and yet I couldn't stop myself from imaging them covering me in
sloppy kisses and groping my fleshy bits with their clumsy hands. It must
have been all my training, at least I hoped it was. And realizing that gave
me an idea on how to come up with the squirmy stories they were hoping
for. Byron would never have imagined the types of revelations they were
waiting for, but Belle could come up with stories that would give their
cocks goosebumps.

"Well, I never wanted to admit zis, but when we were in ze showers, I
would always sneak a peek at your cocks." As soon as I said it, the image
flashed before my mind, nervously blushing as the hot water kissed my soft
skin, doing nothing to the goosebumps covering my skin as I imagined what
they might do if they caught me...forcing me to my knees and giving me a
much stickier shower...

"Hmm...well I could have guessed that one, but the part about the
goosebumps was sexy...hmm..." as Brad pondered my fate, I clasped my hand
to my mouth, worrying I might say something else out loud with out
realizing it. My hand grew wet with drool, and did nothing to hide the
moans and whimpers squirming between the cracks of my fingers as the
pressure on my overstimulated prostate grew to critical mass. I was ready
to remove my hand and let whatever string of obscene entreaties my depraved
mind could come up with drip out along with my drool. But just in time,
Brad mercifully said, "sigh, alright, you can cum."

I didn't so much hear the word as feel it...tearing through me like a
living thing, all fangs and claws dripping with bloody bliss, the intensity
so profound it took a moment to realize it wasn't pain. No...it was sooooo
much better than that. It wasn't pleasure either, because pleasure is just
a sensation, and this was so much more than that...it was release. I
shouldn't have been surprised, this was fast becoming my new favorite
hobby, feeling my spirit flying free from my hard little clit and escaping
the terrible labyrinth of my mind. But that was what was so breathtakingly
beautiful about it...it was so complex, so vast, it was like getting a
glimpse of Heaven through a peep hole, no matter how many times you looked,
you could only see glimpses, and it was never enough.

I finally came to in time to feel my spasming muscles milking a gallon of
Brad's seed into my thirsty cunt. I cried out only to have my mouth stuffed
full of Harold's hog. I wondered why he wasn't scrambling to fill the
achingly empty place left by Brad, only to feel Nathan plowing into me,
filling me with one thrust and wasting no time before fucking me with
rabbit-like determination. I wouldn't have wanted to get between Nathan and
a tight hole if I was Harold either, and I definitely didn't want to since
I was me. He wasn't the biggest or thickest I'd had, but he was fast, and
at this point, all I needed was to hear the word...but the word didn't
come, so neither could I. Through the panic and lust, my mind finally
gained enough purchase to remember what I had to do if I wanted to cum...

"SUCK eet is tres embarrassant to admit zees, but I used to sneak into ze
locker room after ze showers and sniff your jockies." The thought of my
little prick, hard and leaking, my heart in my throat and the smell of
their sweat so strong it brought stinging tears to my eyes, the fear of
getting caught and the secret hope that I would, that I'd be pinned up
against the lockers and feel their hard cocks sliding up my...

"Fuck, that's the hottest shit I've ever heard, but I'd rather your mouth
be on my cock that talking about getting fucked up against the lockers."
Harold chortled at my inability to maintain an internal monologue and I
wondered if I'd ever reach the point where it was no longer possible to
feel more ashamed than I already was, but I didn't have time to think on it
long, as Harold bellowed, "Fuck it! I want my turn! So CUM already, Belle!"
and just like that, I was free and flying this time getting a completely
different perspective of Heaven...a bird's eye view as I hurtled past it,
it's beauty and brilliance flashing by in a blur...

I landed back on the filthy mattress with the impact of a shooting star,
still smoldering as Nathan emptied his load inside me. Harold finally
worked up the nerve to slip in behind me, lifting his stomach over my ass
so he could fit his short, fat prick inside my quivering hole. He was just
big enough to tickle my goo spot and wide enough to stretch me taut and
tender. It added a pinch of pain to the mix and it was exactly the spice I
was looking for to overpower the stench of his greasy skin and the slug
like caress of his lips on my back. Gareth, last in line as usual, crawled
in front of me and slid his impressive prick in between my titillated
tits. He was long enough to get a nice suck off his head with every upward
motion, a lovely lolly for a good little sissy like me. It was getting
harder and harder to think. Every time I came, I seemed to need relief that
much more when it was over. It was like I was being force fed with a hole
in my gut, and I was far from full...

"Pleez, don't make me tell you zis one, eet is too terrible...oh if I
must...I used to draw your dicks in my notebook in class...zen I would
write my name on zem over and over, claiming zem for my own. I wanted to be
your cock copine, wanted to espouse vous dicks and be vous ball bride!" I
didn't even try to keep my filthy fantasies inside anymore. I didn't see
the point. I'd already sold my present and future, and now I was selling my
past one spurt at a time...and considering it one Hell of a bargain...

"CUM you filthy whore, CUM!" Gareth spit in my face, but with the kindness
of his words, he might as well have been blowing me a wet kiss...I came
twice as hard with his permission, flying twice as far...way past
Heaven...into the depths of Hell, enjoying the forbidden pleasures of the
damned, burning and begging to never be saved...only after an eternity
rising like smoke until I found myself hanging in mid-air, sucking on
Brad's powerful neck, trying to blot out the mind rending agony of his cock
forcing its way inside my ass right along Gareth's...

Suddenly, I was stone cold sober, the straight shot of pure Hell sliding
slowly up my tight cunt waking me from my fuck fugue. I looked around the
room, taking in the filthy ambiance of the back alley suite, seeing the
disgust on the faces of my 'clients'...Nathan and Harold stroking
themselves back to full mast, waiting for a chance to use an open hole. In
that moment, I wondered about how far I had fallen, no how far I had
dived...how quickly I had descended into the dark depths of my own
depravity. And I wondered why...who was I really doing this for? Why did I
want to be the 'perfect' sissy. These men didn't think it was perfection
they were looking at, so whose eyes was I trying to catch? Master Darren's?
Isabella? They seemed like the angels vying for my soul, but I didn't know
which one was Hell's Angel and which was an angel of mercy...or whether it
mattered. Whatever the truth, it was soon lost in ecstasy. Apparently my
inner turmoil had been spilling out of my lips in one long moan of barely
coherent confessions. It was enough to earn Brad's permission to, "Cum as
much as you want, you sick little queer, just stop talking."

I must have blissed out at that point, because what little I remembered of
the events that followed was painted in broad, bizarre strokes...a Goya
gangbang of flesh eating demons, Blake's avenging angel's taking my ass
again and again, the cosmos themselves stretching around me like tendrils,
the heat of stars born inside me, my body going supernova as I experienced
multiple Big Bangs...reality created and obliterated in the same eternal
instant...and I'm pretty sure one of them came in my ear at one point...

I don't know how much time actually passed when I woke to Brad removing my
bonnet, filled to the brim and spilling down the sided with their collected
cum...I opened my mouth obediently...it wasn't even a choice...it was a
reflex. I drank it down, the only fluids I was allowed all day save for
their salty sweat...it filled the empty space another piece of my soul used
to fill. I was down to resin now...nothing but an echo of a fantasy, and I
wasn't even sure it was mine. But I knew I couldn't get enough of the taste
of cum...and the more I tasted, the more I realized it didn't remind me of
some obscure delicacy after all...because nothing tasted as good as cum...

I must have shown them quite a time, because after watching me drain every
last drop of semen from my bonnet, they laughed and each stuck a tip onto
my semen sticky skin. I made an extra four dollars for my Masters...I was
so proud. All I could do was lay there and smile, feeling like a living
puddle of splooge...content to slip back into u*********sness...too weak to
even crawl out the door.

Luckily, they foresaw this eventuality and sent two of the rubber clad,
masked guards who carried me to the showers and scrubbed me clean with all
the warmth and compassion as you'd wash a dog that had just finished
rolling around in its own mess. But it was more than I felt I deserved, and
I was infinitely grateful, cuddling up to them as they carried me to my
cot. They even tucked me in...

That night I dreamed I was back in the meadow, but I saw a forest off in
the distance that I hadn't noticed before. And not a moment to soon. As I
was soon pursued by four hunters on horseback. I ran on all fours, feeling
the heat of their horses' breath hot on my back. I was so close, almost in
the forest, where I could lose them, where I'd be safe...that's when I felt
the shot rip through me...

I woke up smiling for some reason...

Cryday...

But I wasn't smiling for long. For a moment I thought I was still asleep,
as Contessa pulled me out of my cot by my hair, but the pain was all too
real. "Wake up, fuck pig...we have to talk!" I would have been more than
happy to talk to her, in fact I would have said anything to get her to free
my hair from her vice-like grip, but she didn't seem interested in anything
I had to say, ignoring my whimpers and whines as she dragged me down the
halls, one scalp torturing step at a time. It was always so confusing being
bullied by a sissy that had been used with all the respect he'd show a
restroom wall. I could get a good look at her toned ass cheeks as she
pulled me painfully behind her, and I wondered how I'd come to be dominated
by a sissy with 'fuck' tattooed on her left buttock and 'hole' tattooed on
her right, with bright red arrows pointing to, well to her fuck hole.

Ultimately the 'how' or even the 'why' of my dilemma didn't worry me as
much as the 'what now' question that kept screaming in my head. When we got
to The Playroom, I realized I wasn't going to get away with a spanking and
a stern lecture. So I did what I do best...I begged. "Pleez, I beg of you!
Whatever I did, excusez-moi! I weel do anyzing to make it up, just don't
hurt me."

I might as well have asked for mercy from the Devil herself, Contessa just
snorted contemptuously as she yanked me up by my roots and tossed me onto a
St Andrew's cross. I didn't fight her as she shackled my wrists and ankles,
knowing it would only make her angrier. I just waited for her to do her
worst, and hoped it wouldn't be worse than I was imagining it would
be. Once she had me firmly secured, she began petting my little sissy sack,
causing my clit to throb and rise to it's full two inches of glory. I
waited breathlessly to feel her nails dig into my tender flesh, but she
just kept petting and stroking stoking the hungry flames of my all
consuming lust.

"You know, Belle, I was really upset with you when I heard you beat my
bitch in a sissy fight. And after I warned you to show kept sissies the
proper respect..." She cooed in my ear, but it was a hollow sound, a cruel
mockery of kindness...I waited for the other heel to drop. "And I hear that
you convinced your trainer to put the Whammy on you...that you can't cum
without permission now...no matter how bad you need to..." I realized
exactly what kind of trouble I was in as she reached her hand behind me and
started sliding a buttplug up my quivering asshole, the vibrations
massaging my g-spot and sending me into convulsions. "So I've decided that
instead of punishing you, I'd feed my little fuck pig." She slinked away
slowly, seductively swaying her hips like a cruel wave goodbye. "And don't
worry, I'm sure someone will rescue you...eventually."

As ridiculous as that sounded, that pesky feeling of desperate hope reared
its ugly head, telling me someone would be along any minute now. If only I
could just have given up maybe it wouldn't have been so agonizing. Sure, my
clit still would have felt like it was trying to pass a tight rubbery ball
of cum...getting bigger and bigger with every second my plug shook the
orgasms loose from my pussy, but at least I could have resigned myself to
it. Nothing is worse than waiting for the hope you know deep down isn't
coming, tearing yourself apart inside with indecision and worry. Should I
call out? But what if SHE hears me?! What happens if I'm late to my morning
workout? How long has it been anyway? Please...please tell me it's been at
least an hour...it feels like twenty. These were the thoughts racing
through my head as I struggled helplessly against my bonds, but they were
too slippery to hold on to, leaving me asking the same questions over and
over without coming any closer to an answer...or any closer to cumming for
that matter.

I began to wonder what I could have done differently. After all, this was
my fault...it just had to be. If I was getting punished and I didn't
deserve it, well that was just unthinkable. If I could be punished even
when I was good, well then nothing made sense. Up was down, right was
wrong, and being good was bad...and I was fucked. Eventually I decided that
even if I didn't do anything wrong, I still deserved to be punished for all
the stuff I did when I thought I was a man, that or they were testing
me. Whatever the reason, there had to be a reason, no matter how hard it
was for me to understand. But that didn't stop me from trying...

So that's how I spent most of my day, agonizing internally, both literally
and figuratively, praying each second would be my last in this Hellish
contraption and praying they would understand why I skipped my lessons
today, even if it was totally my fault. Fortunately, even the worst of
pleasure grows duller after enough time, and at some point my brain decided
to say fuck it and take a nap. Everything went hazy...well hazier than
usual, and I kind of drifted in and out. It was only when I was already
being dragged through the halls by two of the leather guards that I
realized I was free from the cross...only to be dragged into Hell. "Here we
are, Room 101. Master Darius says she is to be brought to the punishment
room for 'special attention'. I'd almost feel sorry for the poor little
thing if she was anything more than a fuck sleeve."

I tried to scream out in my defense, even though I secretly suspected I had
none, tried to beg for mercy, even though I knew for certain they had none,
but all that came out was a pathetic whimper as they dragged me through the
door and into the blindingly bright room...

"Belle...it's a pleasure to see you. Please, gentlemen, just set her down
on the floor there and then you may go..." Darius seemed even more chilling
than usual today...he looked pleased. His sharp features and dead eyes
seemed ill suited for the soft smile playing on his lips. I couldn't
breathe...just the thought of the shocks he gave me last time, the agony
that ran through my veins like boiling blood....it was too much to
bear...and he had promised it wouldn't ever be that gentle again...I tried
to cry, to offer at least some expression of remorse, but I couldn't even
do that. I was paralyzed with fear, all I could do was look around the room
at every torture device ever imagined by man, all waiting hungrily for
me. And these weren't the sexy kinds like in the Playroom...those could be
scary enough. These were the kind of tools that took you beyond fear. Just
as I was certain my heart would burst, providing the relief my clit had
not, my eyes finally settled on the center of the room, on the table with
straps I knew I was going to end up on...where, to my surprise, there was
already another occupant...Contessa!

"Ah...I see you've noticed my little Cunt here is tied up at the moment..."
Darius crossed over to her and with the most dreadful look of
disappointment, took her head in hands, tilting her face so I could see her
latest tattoo... "Spoiled brat...that's what it says, because that's what
she is. Imagine my shock when a little sissy whispered in my ear that she
thought she was in charge of the Basement. I certainly don't mind you
sissies playing your little power games, but to find that she thought she
had the right to keep you from your lessons...to impact our investment in
you..." Darius looked down at her with a disgust that made my skin
crawl. "Of course, I thought I trained her better than that, so I owe you
an apology, Belle. But before I decide how Cunt should pay for that
apology, tell me...what was it she had you call her when the adults weren't
around?"

Darius looked right through me, and I knew there was no point in lying. He
struck me as the kind of man that never asked a question he didn't already
know the answer to. So with a guilty tremor I responded, "w-w-Well, I call
her muh muh Mistress, but that was my idea, Master Darius...I'm so sorry."
I could tell from his expression that he wasn't interested in my apologies
and didn't want to hear any excuses I had for her, so I continued, "and she
likes me to Contessa."

Darius face went dead calm, like a sniper about to pick off a target, an
executioner about to flip a switch, a torture expert about to do whatever
it was he was about to do. "Well, if I wanted her name to be Contessa I
would have carved that into her forehead. But I didn't. I tattooed
CUNT...not because that's her name, she doesn't have a name. I call her
that, because that is what she is. A CUNT and nothing more...and the day I
hear that a cunt has decided that it's a real girl is the day I teach it
different." Darius still hadn't laid a hand on her, and his calm restraint
had me much more worried than if he would have screamed or slapped her. And
when he told me what my role I was to play in her punishment, I was ready
to scream myself. "Now, you're probably wondering why I invited you to join
us. The answer is simple...you will be administering this Cunt's punishment
today. Go on, you can do anything you want to her and she won't dare seek
retribution."

I looked at her, tied helplessly to the table, an expression of pure hatred
marring her pretty face...well marring the parts that weren't already
tattooed with slurs. I knew I what it felt like to be in her position, and
as angry as I was at her for torturing me, I just couldn't bring myself to
do the same to her. I knew I should, it was what my Master was expecting
and everything in my training told me I should punish her for her own
good...but a teeny tiny part of me was screaming for me to stop. It was
even louder than the whisper of my conscience, and it was telling me that I
wasn't like her, and I didn't want to be. "I eem sorry, Master Darius, but
I cannot punish her. I do not want to hurt anyone."

Master Darius looked at me like I was speaking gibberish, the very idea of
not wanting to hurt a sissy was impossible for him to grasp, much less
accept. "Did I hear you right? You don't want to hurt her? You want to let
her go unpunished? Don't you remember how guilty you felt when you were
bad? Don't you remember what a relief punishment was? Are you going to rob
her of that?" I looked into Contessa's eyes, and I didn't see guilt
anywhere in them. She didn't want to be punished...her whole life was a
punishment. I wasn't even sure at that point whether I wanted to be
punished anymore, but I did know that right or wrong, I couldn't hurt
another sissy.

"Non, I cannot. Pleez forgive me, but I weel not punish her." Darius looked
at me like I was a puzzle box made of shit. He couldn't figure me out, but
he was too disgusted to want to try. Finally he motioned towards the door,
and I wasted no time in scurrying away, grateful to be free from that
nightmare...and then I heard the screams...

Chasing me down the halls, faster than I could run, slipping through my
fingers when I covered my ears with my dainty hands. Even when I finally
made my way to my cot and buried my head under my pillow, I couldn't keep
her screams out. Anguished...agonized...and all my fault. If I would have
stayed and punished Contessa, it wouldn't have been anywhere that severe,
but I was too squeamish. Suddenly I didn't feel so proud for listening to
my little voice...and I waited for the screams to stop with tears streaming
down my cheeks. I was still waiting when I finally drifted off into a
fitful sleep.

I dreamed I was back in the meadow, only as I bounded through it this time,
I felt the ground squish beneath my feet. I looked down and to my horror,
found that the ground was bleeding and screaming underneath my step. I ran
instinctively, but this only made the screaming louder...it seemed like no
matter what I did, I was bound to cause suffering and pain wherever I
went. I woke up praying that it wasn't prophetic...

Masterday...

I woke up with the hope that my day couldn't possibly be any worse than the
last one. And when I got to breakfast, my hopes seemed to be justified as I
saw Bambi motioning for me to sit next to her and Sakura. Sakura blushed
and turned her eyes down when I squeezed in between them and Bambi couldn't
stop giggling, putting her hand high up on my leg and whispering, "Look
who's sitting all by her wonesome? Poor widdle Cuntessa, it looks like her
Master is dissypointy in her. Tee hee! N' I hear you have sumthin' to do
with that." She began playing with my sissy clit as I ate my breakfast,
after all the teasing I got yesterday, I was ready to pop. "S'okay, widdle
slave, you can cum, we're like besties now, so you can cum with us any time
you want." It was music to my ears, I closed my eyes and waited for the
crescendo, and suddenly I hit a false note...

"Honorable Bambisan, please to be forgiving my impertinence, but it appears
Bellesan is unable to cum. I know my opinion is like an ant before God's,
but maybe it's because she no longer thinks of you as a Mistress, but as a
friend?" Sakura gave my leg a little squeeze and snuggled up to me. I'd
lost two Mistresses for the price of one, but gained two friends. At the
time, I wasn't sure if it was a good bargain or not. Sure, they helped me
do my dishes after we ate, and we giggled and gossiped about Contessa and
the bossy bully sissies, but I also didn't get to cum with them
anymore...which was something they couldn't help but giggle about, friends
or no...

But I didn't have the time to pontificate, because it was time to
perspirate. I didn't want to be late to gym. I'd missed a day, which meant
missing a chance to be trained and teased by Dirk. So when I arrived to an
empty gym, it was another bittersweet surprise. On one hand, I'd apparently
'graduated' into solo training, on the other I'd miss my insensitive
instructor. But his absence only motivated me more. I wanted to prove his
trust in me was well founded, so worked harder than I ever had before,
twisting into positions I didn't think were possible and flexing my pussy
until it was tight enough to thread a needle but elastic enough to fit a
baseball bat.

When I heard the bell, I rushed to wardrobe room. Somehow I just new that
today was a day for my more traditional, but still ravishingly risque
French maid uniform complete with a cute little cap. The black silk, white
lace trimmed blouse was cut low enough to see the tops of my aureola and
looked like they might pop out if I hiccuped. The skirt was just long
enough to cover my ample ass, leaving the white lace beneath to offer a
teasing glimpse of my garters attached to black silk stockings trailing to
high heels I still couldn't believe I could walk in, much less run towards
the foyer. But for some reason I knew I wasn't going upstairs
today. Something was telling me today was different. When I reached the
foyer, I realized how different...

The other gurls where already hanging up in their cages. I saw a cage for
me, lowered to the ground, the door swung open wide with two guards
flanking it. One stood by the door, the other by a hoist, waiting for me to
get in. I tried to swallow the scream rising in my throat, but a high
pitched yelp dribbled out. I hated tight spaces, they still hadn't cured me
of that, and this one was almost as tight as me. But I didn't want to look
like a coward in front of Isabella, so I stepped into the cage and held my
breath as the leather guards closed the door, locked me in and hoisted me
back up to put on display. I clutched tightly to the bars and tried to keep
my knees bent so that the bottom of the cage didn't bite into my soft
cheeks, which only amplified my claustrophobia. I tried to take my mind of
my terror, finding just enough breath to whisper, "What's happening?"

Isabella was the first to answer. "The Master is going to pick one of us to
spend the night with today. So we're waiting until he comes down here to
pick one of us. Don't worry, Belle, he almost always picks me, so you'll
have the day off to play with your sissy friends...Isabella looked anxious
and ambivalent as if she was torn between wanting to be picked and wishing
she didn't want to...

Bambi looked as carefree as usual, twirly her curly cotton-candy-pink hair
and occasionally chewing on it absentmindedly, perhaps thinking it really
was cotton candy. She didn't seem to be worried whether she would be picked
or not, and just kept bobbing her head to whatever Barney song was floating
around in there.

Sakura on the other hand looked like she was about to die of fright...well
more so than usual. She had her arms between the bars, hugging them tightly
as she whispered what sounded like badly translated instructions for
installing software...why that was supposed to be calming or sexy or
whatever else it was supposed to be besides crazy was beyond my
understanding. But what I did understand was the stark terror she felt of
her own desire to be picked by the Master and to surrender to her shameful
lust.

Lola looked like she'd never been ashamed of anything in her life, and
seemed the most at home in a cage. She was completely relaxed, going so far
as to stroke her sweet chalupa, teasing a bead of pre-cum out of it as she
waited to see if the Master would pick her. Unlike the others, I didn't get
a real sense of obedience from her. Sure she did whatever her Master told
her to, but not out of love of service. From where I was swinging
helplessly in midair, it looked like her only real Master was her libido,
and she would be a good little gurl as long as she could serve it as well
as her flesh and blood Masters.

Contessa on the other hand looked like she didn't even know what pleasure
was anymore. She looked lost, staring into space with the dull expression
you find on livestock. I couldn't help but feel responsible. As frightening
as it was, I would have given anything to see her hateful lust filled glare
through the bars. And I prayed to the devils of Hell to have a little mercy
on her and to resurrect my demoness in a graffiti covered skin suit.

Time crawled as we waited for Master Darren, waiting for the chance to
crawl to him. I didn't know why I wanted him to pick me so bad...why I
needed it. Sure he was handsome as all get out and built like an aged
Adonis, and yeah ever since I'd felt him inside me, branding me as his, I'd
felt empty without him inside me. But it was more than that. I'd had
countless orgasms since then and been fucked by every sissy and man I came
across, but he was more than just another man to me at this point, more
than a chance to prove I was the perfect sissy or a way to get off. It's
like he was source of all my desires, the reason for all of my suffering
and struggles, and my only hope for true happiness...and yet I almost
thought I hated him...

Finally my inconclusive introspection was interrupted my the unmistakable
sound of my Master's footprints. He stood in the doorway, his silhouette
more imposing and substantial than any flesh and blood man I'd ever seen,
the light from upstairs pouring in as if he were bringing it with him. He
took slow, measured steps, each one send shivers down my spine, and from
the looks of the other sissies, up theirs as well. It was impossible to be
bored, or petulant, or reluctant in his presence. All you could do was want
him...and hope he wanted you.

When he got down to the foyer he calmly considered each cage and each sissy
within. As he did, I could see each sissy transform, Cunt's face going
blank as she went still as a statue, the empty shell for him to pierce,
punish, or pleasure however he wanted. Lola, writhing against her bars, the
sweat kissing her luscious curves as it dripped in fat beads from her body,
so hot you'd think she would melt through the bars like the liquid sex she
was. Bambi was like a deer caught in his headlights, doe eyed and innocent
a mere girl before this monument of a man, her nervous giggles floating
down like bubbles. Sakura, unable to look away from him, her almond eyes
fixed right on his as the rest of her body revealed her humble horniness,
her pale skin reddening and whimpers escaping from her delicate lips. And
Isabella...if only I could have had her look at me at me with those eyes,
seething with a hate more powerful than love and with a lust more consuming
than hate...I could have killed her for looking at MY Master like that. I
realized I must have looked the same, primping and preening desperately,
trying to embody the fantasy he had chosen for us, trying to become that
illusion made flesh. And when he made a slight nod towards my cage and I
felt myself lowering down to him, I could have sworn I was a dream come
true...

My Master held his hand out to help me out of my cage and I clasped it
tightly, fearing I would fall to the floor as my legs wobbled weakly
beneath me. That's when he pulled me in closer and let me lean on him, and
I swooned as I buried my face in his chest, secure in the knowledge he had
more than enough strength to support me. Still...I wanted to show him I
could be strong, otherwise my surrender to him would mean nothing, so I
took a deep breath and willed the life back into my legs...each step
steadier than the last until I was supporting myself on my stiletto heels,
but still walking as closely to my Master as I could. Making my way up the
steps was like ascending to Mount Olympus to visit with the gods...and
while I no longer consider the Basement my Hades, I did consider my
Master's room the Elysian Fields. Every step landed with a sigh, knowing it
was one step closer to his bed, one step closer to him...

As before, I was overwhelmed by the power of his room. It was a tableau of
black and red...the walls with bold black stripes on a deep red background,
all adorned with trophies of his kills...and all deadly predators, all
hinting at the v******e and domination the man was capable of...the dark
finish on the four poster bed and the red silk sheets...the portrait of
Master Darren hanging on the bed, looming over me...staring down, his
burning eyes following me around the room and seeming to illuminate his
features in the inky darkness that surrounded him, as if he was formed by
it or had made it his faithful servant. His room was an extension of him,
but even as a metaphor, he was more substantial than me, and I cowered
before him, knowing only he was strong enough to protect me from him...

He led me to the bed and motioned for me to sit. This whole time I was
wondering what he was thinking, if he was pleased with me, or if this was
to be a punishment or perhaps another test. I anxiously awaited his word,
but when it finally came, I was so on edge that I responded to his booming
baritone with a timid yelp, "I must say, Belle, you never cease to amaze
me. I thought your first night upstairs must have been a fluke. After all,
you were so weak and worthless as a man, I didn't expect you'd have the
strength or discipline to be a sissy. But look at you now, almost
unrecognizable as the gurl that cowered before me the last time we
met. Sure, you're still shaking, still just waiting to offer me
everything...only now, for maybe the first time in your life...you actually
have something to offer."

I looked up at him...awestruck, my eyes brimming with tears as I took in
every backhanded compliment with immense gratitude. At this point even if
he actually backhanded me I would have just been proud he wanted to touch
me. I managed a feeble, "Thank you, Master." and waited eagerly for my
chance to offer him everything.

"You took to training very well, and even sought out additional lessons to
improve yourself. You pushed your mind and body to their fullest to defeat
a physically stronger opponent. You earned a glowing review from my son,
Dirk, to the point that he asked for a second kept sissy as his Christmas
present. And you handled yourself professionally in an emotionally charged
introduction to the 'hospitality' industry." I felt like I was going to
burst with pride at any moment, and if not pride, something a little
stickier. "But you have one thing holding you back. One thing keeping you
from becoming the perfect sissy." I felt like I'd been hit in the gut...my
vision went blurry and the room spun as I tried to think of how I had
failed him..."Empathy. A sissy has no room for empathy, mercy, or
compassion. You are to obey orders enthusiastically and immediately...and
that is all you are supposed to do." He walked over to me, taking my head
in his powerful hands, not for the first time I thought of how easily he
could snap me like a twig...and how casually. "So the next time someone
tells you to punish a sissy...for any reason...what will you say?"

"YES, MASTER!" I cried out in a heart wrenching cry, and felt a piece of my
soul fly out with it. I had thought my empathy, my mercy, my compassion had
been some of the best values I'd learned on the road to sissydom. I thought
that for the first time in my life, I was understanding what it was to be a
good person...but if it was a choice of being a good person or being the
perfect sissy, then I had to choose like a sissy. My Master seemed to see
what a difficult decision it was for me to make, and he seemed to
appreciate that I had volunteered another piece of myself. So showing the
mercy only a human is capable of, he lifted my lips to his and kissed
me...gently but firmly...and he took all the pain away...

He scooped me up into his arms without ever letting his lips slip from
mine...my nipples where hard against the material of my blouse, driving me
mad with frustrated friction, but I was content that it was his powerful
chest they were crushed against. I had never had a man kiss me like
this...like a lover...trying to give me as much pleasure as he took. It was
all so frighteningly new...I was unsure, but excited...suddenly a virgin in
his arms again, exploring new territories of passion and surrender. His
lips lingered on mine, one hand nimbly unclasped the buttons of my blouse
while another softly ran through my hair. Any moment he could have claimed
my mouth as his, thrusting his tongue in and out of my moaning maw...or he
could have ripped my blouse open and mauled my breasts with his vice like
grip...or he could have gripped a handful of hair and forced my head
wherever he wanted it to go. The fact that he could do all of those things
and instead showed the restraint of Superman holding an egg, made the
experience all the more overwhelming. This was true power...true
ownership. He was showing me just how strong he really was, how complete
his hold on me was...all by making love to me, pretending I was anything
more than a living fuck doll. It was beautiful and cruel and I couldn't
tell if I loved him for it, or hated myself for loving him for it...

He poured me onto the bed, finally breaking the kiss and leaving me
breathless, panting for more as he calmly undressed at a sadistically
leisurely pace. I writhed underneath him, my clit swollen and slick with my
pre-cum, begging to be teased more, wanting to know how far he could take
me before he let me cum...if he let me cum. My hands found their way to my
nipples, playing with them painfully as I twisted them, turning up the
temperature on the furnace burning inside me. Master seemed amused by my
desperation, but I could see a hint of hunger in his eyes as well. I knew
he'd never want me as much as I needed him, but just to know there was
something there, no matter how slight, was enough to justify all my trials
and tribulations.

When he finally finished undressing, towering over me like a man chiseled
from a mountain, it was all I could do not to beg like a selfish little
slut. I was ready to cry out...use me, abuse me, hurt me, hate me...just
please TOUCH me...but I held on my the skin of my teeth. He seemed slightly
impressed by my restraint, rewarding me with a single finger slowly tracing
my curves...as single finger that as it made contact with my skin, set it
alight and left it burning in its wake. I'd never felt so overwhelmed by
such a little thing...he truly had more power in his little finger than I
had in my entire body...and thank God for that. I didn't care why a finger
could push me to the brink of a throbbing full body explosion, I only
wanted more. When he reached my plump pouting lips, I eagerly took him in
my mouth and suckled on him trying to nurse the electric eroticism from his
finger...and as I felt my pussy get wet and quivering, I thought I had
succeeded.

It turns out I was feeling his other fingers lubing up my hungry hole,
spreading me like sweet cream to get me ready for his manhood. When I
realized what he was doing, I felt tears of joy caress my cheek...tears my
Master kissed from my face before letting me taste their salty goodness on
his lips and tongue. I wrapped my arms around his neck, running my fingers
through his thick, fiery mane...my legs wrapped his back, pulling him
closer to me. If I could have emptied myself and tied my skin around him, I
would have gladly just to get a little bit closer, to feel him on my skin,
to lose myself in him completely. I felt the tip of his cock, thick and
hard and against my soft, tight rosebud. I blossomed for him with a cry of
ecstasy as I felt him enter me...sliding slowly inside me, kissing my neck
and feeling my pulse quicken on his tongue, trailing down to my breasts,
taking a nipple in his mouth and making love to it with his tongue, his
lips, his hands, his teeth...his hands moved on me like a sculptors, making
me putty in his hands and sculpting a work of art, a woman in love...Zeus
bedding Hera...making a goddess moan and whimper and bite his shoulder to
keep from begging for more...

That was the cruelest cut...he made me feel like a goddess...like a
woman...like a human being, and all as a reward for renouncing my humanity,
for being a good little sissy, for acting like a thing...and all I could
feel was gratitude. He wrapped his lips around my ear lobe suckling gently
before whispering sweetly, "You can cum when I do..." I thanked him with
kisses a million times and more, wanting this to last all night despite the
longing in my loins...and to my horror and joy...it did...

He fucked me hard and fast, and soft and slow...he bent me, folded me, and
wrapped me around him like a shawl...we made love in every position and all
across the room...on the floor, rutting in a moment of a****listic passion,
against the wall my breasts crushed painfully against the wall as he turned
my head from behind and kissed the pain away...I dangled in midair before
being thrust back down on his cock marched around the room and fucked
anywhere and everywhere...every thrust a promise of pleasure unimaginable
as the pressure built inside me, my heart raced until it sputtered and
seized, only to start up beating for him stronger than ever as our bodies
and tongues danced to the beat. Finally he opened the curtains on his
poster windows and let the first rays of the sun hit my body, making me
glimmer and sparkle as the light danced on my sheen of sweat. Beneath me I
saw the vast expanse of my Masters home...and I saw all I gave up to be in
his arms, to feel him inside me...and as he turned my head to kiss me one
last time, as he exploded inside me...I knew I would give it all up again
in a heartbeat...

That heartbeat lasted a lifetime, as I felt the heat and splendor of his
love finally released inside me, filling me up as it kissed every cell,
every nook and cranny all the way down to the scraps of my soul, and as it
proved to powerful for my tiny frame, I felt it unleash in an eruption of
volcanic proportions, my seed spraying the window. I'd cum longer maybe
even harder, but I'd never cum so completely. By the time I was done,
fallen on the floor and licking the windows clean...I felt empty...I felt
like nothing...I smiled...

Someday...

As I reluctantly left my Master's room I realized it was a new day, and as
I made my way down to the Basement, I wondered what that would mean for
me. I had just surrendered all I had for a night of love that even I wasn't
stupid enough to believe was real. What would I surrender next time? Did I
have enough of my soul left to give? Or was I just scr****g resin at this
point? What would I do when I was the perfect sissy? When I was nothing?
Would Master Darren want me then, or would he be bored once he had me
broken and tamed? And even if he did want me, would I even be able to
appreciate it once I was perfectly empty? I kept asking myself these
questions, kept asking myself why I wanted a man who wanted me to kill
myself for his love...but I only ended up more confused than when I
started. All I did know was that if Master Darren was here, I wouldn't
worry my pretty little head over silly little questions.

I made my way down to the Basement, my legs aching as I came down the
steps. But they still had enough life in them to send me a foot in the air
as I heard Isabella say, "Enjoy your night?" From behind me. I whirled and
lost my balance, making it easy for her to push me up against the wall. Her
tight black leather bodysuit looked like it was drizzled on her, her eyes
shined like diamonds. Her usually haughty expression was washed away,
revealing the raw hurt and confusion beneath it. Her lips were kissably
close to mine as she spat out..."Did he fuck you like the filthy little
hole you are? Or did he make love to you? Did he make you want to surrender
everything to him? Do you even know how little left you have to give? Go
on...tell me you love him. I want to hear you say it!"

She had me completely outmatched. She was stronger, smarter and could
endure more than I could imagine. Worse, she seemed to know the answers to
all my questions, and probably more I didn't even know to ask. In that
instant, I stopped thinking, stopped rationalizing, stopped trying to be
anything...and I just opened up and let what little was left of me spill
out..."I don't love him! I just think I do...I mean feel I do! Everything
inside me tells me I love him! That's how I know I love you! Because it's
only my battered heart telling me that, and it feels so wrong, so painful,
so deadly...but it feels so worth it!"

She looked like I had slapped her, like I had spit in her face, like I had
stabbed her right through the heart. I'd never seen her in so much pain, so
much turmoil. I couldn't bear to see it...she has loosened her grip on me
in her shock...I freed my arms, pulling her mouth into mine, kissing
her...no, not so much kissing her as trying to slip inside her, to live in
her heart...tongue first. Her tongue was the first to recover, pushing mine
back into my mouth and following it home, as if she wanted to live inside
me too...we went back and forth like this until she overpowered me...I
moaned in grateful submission, eagerly surrendering my soul...I knew it
would be safe with her. A single tear ran down my cheek, because I knew she
would have to breathe sometime, and when she did...

SLAP

My eyes stung with tears now, my face with a red welt..."I...I don't know
what that was, but it was NOT love! I could never love you...don't you see?
How could I love a thing? A toy? You weren't much before, but at least you
were human...but now...now you're just a perfect little sissy. And all I
want is for you to stay out of my way." I nodded meekly, not wanting to
hear another word...feeling like I was dying as my heart was ripped into
bloody bits, knowing I wouldn't be so lucky. Isabella looked almost sorry,
but she managed a haughty sneer through her own tears. "Now, since you want
to be the Master's favorite, you can try filling my shoes for a day. Go to
the White Room. You'll know what to do when you get there." And just like
that...she was gone, turning a corner and disappearing, maybe forever...

I made my way sluggishly to the White Room, the room I was born in after a
fashion, an appropriate place to go to die, I supposed. But then that
awful, merciless, sadistic feeling of hope came shining through the cracks
of my heart. I had learned to be the perfect sissy, hadn't I? Maybe I could
learn to be human too. Maybe then, Isabella would love me too...or maybe
I'd be tossed out with the garbage. After all, who would want a lovelorn
sissy...but what if I pretended to be a perfect sissy while learning to be
human? The thought seemed insane, dangerous, and outright suicidal...but it
was also my last and only hope. When I finally reached the White Room, I
opened the door determined it would be the door to my new life, a life with
Isabella...the first day of the rest of my life

What I saw instead was a sissy desperately fucking herself with a phallus
protruding from the floor. She had olive skin, shapely slender legs, a pert
behind, but with enough cushion for even Master Dirk to get a good squeeze,
wide hips and a slender waist that made her look like she might snap in two
as she filled her self with the stalagcock, breasts the size of ripe
peaches and looking just as soft, with nipples shaped like Hershey's
kisses, only looking twice as sweet. Her shoulder length hair was the brown
of a fine chocolate, rich and deep and luxurious. A few strands clung to
her face, her gray eyes piercing me as they looked at me in
desperation. Her eyebrows were thin, almost painted on, her features were
similarly delicate, but there was something haunting about their softness,
as if she were a half remembered dream. And when she finally came, it was
from a cock thick and throbbing and at least a good five inches. She
finally slumped to the floor.

I suddenly realized what chore Isabella had left me to do. I was
responsible for this freshly cut sissy, and I was no longer the new gurl. I
made my way over to her, kneeling down so I could help her up, but she
tackled me to the floor, sobbing into my chest, "Who am I?! Who am I?!
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO?!"

Sigh...it was going to be a long first day of the rest of my life...






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