Previous Chapter Back to Content & Review of this story Display the whole story in new window (text only) Previous Story Back to List of Newest Stories Next Story Back to BDSM Library Home

Review This Story || Author: 2nn

Permanent Stay in Mastersville

Chapter 5

Chapter 5 
When I woke up, I was so sore that I could hardly move. My
body was a mass of pain and as I removed the blanket, I saw how bruised
and ugly all the abuse had made me. The sight of my battered body made
me sob with self-pity. I lay quietly waiting for Master to arrive. I
didn't feel rested, but at least I wasn't sleepy anymore. After about an
hour Master came to see me. I instantly crawled over to his feet to kiss
them and display my submission, as a slave ought to do. From above my
head a voice came: "Stand up slave. Let me see you properly." With great
difficulty I managed to stand up and let Master see me. For a while I
just stood there under his unrelenting glare, eyes down. Then his hands
began to explore my body. His touch was firm, yet gentle, but my body
was so sore that the slightest touch made me whimper in pain. After a
thorough examination, he lifted my chin up and looked into my eyes, for
the first time allowing me to see him too. I saw that Master was a very
handsome man with strong, regular features and deep, black eyes. He was
very muscular, but didn't look like a bodybuilder. Rather he looked like
an all-round athlete. I liked what I saw. I liked it a lot. Before
Mistress caught me I had never had a homosexual fantasy in my life. Now
I could think of little else. He regarded me silently for a while, never
letting me turn my eyes away, and then he spoke: "You are mine now.
Forget all other people in the world. On your way across town you have
sampled enough of the world. Now you'll spend the rest of your life
pleasing me and no one else. Always remember this: your sole purpose in
life is to please me. You exist only for this. Forget everything else
and concentrate on pleasing me." With these words he claimed me and I
have remained devoted to him ever since. Those words were only the
beginning, but they are the words I live by: I exist only to please
Master. 

Finished claiming me, he removed all my bonds and allowed me to bathe.
He changed my shoes, my corset and my collar and then he fed me from a
doggy bowl on the floor before producing a straightjacket made from
thick, supple, black leather. He laced me tightly into the
straightjacket and pulled a leather hood over my head, sealing in
darkness. I felt a needle plunge into my thigh and the last thing I
heard before I fell unconscious was: "Rest. Get well." 

I don't know for how long Master kept me unconscious, but it must have
been for days, because when I woke up, I felt much, much better. When my
hood was removed I saw that my bruises were fading and that most of the
welts were gone. As I was helped to stand I could feel that the soreness
in my mouth and ass was almost gone. I wave of gratitude washed over me
over this simple act of kindness; a master allowing his useless slave to
rest. 

But the rest was over. Master now entered me into service as his sissy
maid. First I as fitted with a new uniform. It was similar to the one I
had worn when Mistress had owned me: A tiny, pink rubber dress, ending
just above the panty line and showing ample cleavage. Underneath the
dress I still wore a corset, but Master stepped up my corset training
and soon my waist was no more than fourteen inches and had a three-inch
pipe stem. It took quite a while for me to get used to it as it robbed
me of breath, making sure that I gasped for it almost constantly. I
still wore a broad collar, but now it was pink and so tight it almost
choked me. I no longer wore stockings, gloves or panties, but on my feet
Master put a pair of very demanding boots: ankle high, shiny, black
plastic boots with nine-inch heels and ballet toes, forcing me to walk
on my toes all the time. They only came off once a day when I bathed,
and I had to sit down when taking them off since I had lost the ability
to stand flatfooted, or for that matter stand without footwear. The
final thing he changed was my chastity device. He allowed my balls to
hang free, but my cock was still restrained in an impossibly tiny, steel
tube, which had two metal bands crossing the tip of my cock. The tube
was so small that peeing now took a long time and caused me great pain.
Master put no bonds on me, at least not any physical ones, but he bound
me to him in a way that I will never escape. I belong to Master and I
exist only to please him. 

As I fell into the rhythm of daily chores, Master began using me as a
slave should be used: hard. He fucked me everywhere; across the kitchen
table, up against the bathroom wall, with my upper body pushed inside
the washing machine. I loved every minute of it, but of course I was
still terribly horny. By now it was over a year since I had cum, and I
constantly had to wipe my cock as it dribbled pre-cum. Of course I
begged and pleaded with Master and of course the only thing I achieved
was harsh punishment. This was how I found out why Master allowed my
balls to hang free. He loved to torture and simply wanted access all the
time. Whether he used needles, electric shocks or just his hands, he
loved to hear me scream as he abused my balls. 

Then one day while I was dusting off in the dining room Master came up
behind me and grabbed my waist. I knew that he would probably fuck me
now and waited anxiously for him to proceed. A good, hard fuck is one of
my favorite activities. But this time Master really surprised me.
Instead of just throwing me up on the table, he stared kissing my neck
and shoulders and caressing me ever so gently. I shuddered with lust as
he turned me around and actually kissed me, long and deep. I had known
for some time that I was in love with him and now I just gave myself to
him as he kissed and caressed my whole body. I responded to his every
touch and soon I was whimpering with need and trembling with desire.
Gently he lifted me up and carried me into the bedroom and laid me
carefully on the bed. Here he undressed me until I wore only my collar,
my corset and my ballet-toed boots. We kissed and fondled for a while
and then he did the most surprising thing of all: he removed my chastity
device. As my cock sprang to life, hard and throbbing with need I held
my breath. I didn't dare hope that he would actually allow me to cum. At
first it didn't look that way either. He entered me as I lay on my back,
his hands holding my massive tits. I in turn didn't dare touch my cock,
even if my need was extreme. Instead I wrapped my legs around him and
grasped the small of his back with my hands as he fucked me with long,
steady strokes. Then he began playing with my cock, stroking it until I
was just about to cum, begging for release as tears of frustration
rolled down my face. Just as I was about to cum, he pulled away his
hand, leaving me hanging. And then it happened. Just as I was loosing
hope of ever being allowed to cum, he increased the pace of both his
fucking and his stroking and we came together in the best orgasm of my
life. I screamed as I dug my heels and nails into his back and arched my
body back as far as it would go. I could feel his cum pumping into me
and feel my own pumping out of my cock in a seemingly endless stream,
shooting all over my upper body, even past my face. The orgasm seemed to
last forever and when it was over I was completely spent, both
physically and mentally. I cried with gratitude as I tried thanking him,
but he just reacted by pulling out and lying down gently beside me,
cuddling me. 

We rested for a while and I actually fell asleep against the man who had
now made me his beyond a shadow of doubt. He made love to me three more
times that night, milking me with his gentle touch every time. 

The next morning Master reattached my chastity device and everything
went back to the way they were before, Master ruling every aspect of his
harshly controlled slave's life. Except now his control was complete and
total and didn't need physical restrains. He now had so complete control
over me that he didn't even have to punish me anymore. Instead he would
tell me to punish myself, even if the torture was inflicted on my as
sport and not punishment for some transgression. Many, many times I have
stood before Master and inserted needles in my balls for his amusement.
I cry, tremble, scream and vomit from the pain, but I do it without
hesitation. I will do anything for Master. I live in the hope that he
will allow me to cum again some day, but so far those were my last
orgasms. 

Master for his part continues to require proof of my devotion. When he
wants to do something to me, he will have me ask him to do it to me. And
I will ask him to do it. Sometimes it has taken a while to work up the
courage and sometimes it has required a great deal of torture, which I
inflict on myself, for me to ask him, but I always end up doing it. 

At first it was severe punishment: electric shocks to most of the body,
protracted breathplay and the like and always Master would "agree" to do
these things to me with the words: "Well, you asked for it slave." 

Then one evening as I sat at his feet, waiting for his command, he said
to me: "I think that a slave's feet and legs would look much better if
she wore shoes like these." I looked up and in his left hand he held a
truly fearsome object. Calling it a shoe was definitely overstating it's
shape. It was a tube of sorts made from hard, shiny, black plastic. The
tube's diameter got smaller and smaller until en ended in a rounded-off
cone. Not only would it require the wearer to walk on the tips of her
toes all the time, like I did already, but in this boot there was no
room for the toes or the heel for that matter. Master continued: "Of
course it would require the wearer to have her toenails removed and her
foot crushed before it was pushed into the boot, but her feet and legs
would look fantastic. Don't you agree slave?" I wanted to scream, but
instead I answered meekly: "Yes Master." I knew that sooner or later I
would have to wear boots like that, but the decision was so irreversible
that I just couldn't bring myself to ask for it. At least not at that
time. But the time came. A week and countless self-inflicted punishments
later I fell to my knees and begged him: "Master please. I want to
please you more than anything. Will you please make me wear the boots
you showed me the other night?" Master seemed to consider for a little
while and then said: "Well, you asked for it slave." 

The next day Master took me to the doctor. It was the first time since
my arrival at Master's house that I had been outside it's walls and I
felt very insecure as he led up to the front door. But Master was very
different from Mistress in one respect: while Mistress allowed everyone
to abuse me, Master made it perfectly clear that I was his, and his
alone. This of course made me love him even more. 

In the doctor's office Master once again made me beg the doctor to
perform the horrible things to me. Showing considerable surprise the
doctor agreed and I was led into another room where I was sedated. My
toenails were removed while I was unconscious as was the crushing of my
foot, so I was spared some of the pain. But not all. To make the boots
fit my feet, or rather to mold my feet into the shape of the boots, I
was forced to walk in the boots no more than two days after my feet had
been crushed. The pain was excruciating and I screamed before collapsing
on my knees, vomiting from the pain. At first I only stood up in the
boots for a few minutes at a time, but there was no way around it, and
each day I was forced to walk more and more in them, no matter how
painful it was, until after three weeks I had resumed my normal duties
in spite of the fact that my feet were far from healed. 

The pain passed in a few weeks more and the boots were now permanent
fixtures on my feet. I could neither stand nor walk without them. They
came off only once a week when my feet were washed. At first I had
trouble looking at my feet when the boots came off. The shapes of the
toes and the heel were recognizable, but only just. Everything had been
pressed into the shape of the brutal boots. It made me want to cry as it
meant that I would never again walk in other shoes or boots than these,
just as walking barefooted was completely out of the question. Not that
I had worn anything but stilettos night and day for more than a year and
my feet had only been bare when I bathed, but at least I had had the
hope that I might one day walk barefooted if I wished to do so. Also I
had had the ability to change from one stiletto shoe to another. This
was now just history. For the rest of my life I would wear only these
boots. 

It wasn't all bad though. The boots did make my legs and feet look
fantastic and I admired what they did for my already quite sexy body
posture. Combined with my huge tits, my well-rounded ass, tiny waist and
long, slender legs they made me look very sexy, if in a rather vulgar
and overstated way. 

Things went back to the way they had been before and for a while the
only special demands Master made on me were for special, self-inflicted
torture. Then one morning as I had just finished giving Master head at
breakfast he said: "A blowjob from a toothless slave must be quite an
experience." The shock of the statement almost made me scream, as I knew
that this meant that I would loose all my teeth sooner or later. Some
part of me wanted to resist, but that time for that had passed too.
Master had broken me to the extent that I would agree to even his most
outrageous demand without question, immediately. So I knelt and kissed
his feet as I asked in a trembling voice: "Master won't you please
remove all my teeth so that I may please you better?" I imagine Master
smiling to himself as he looked down on my bowed head and said: "Well,
you asked for it slave." 

So it was that I on the same afternoon knelt in the dentist's office and
asked her to remove all my teeth. The dentist chuckled and congratulated
Master on a well-trained slave. Then she ordered me into the chair and
systematically removed all my teeth. I cried a little on the way back to
Master's house, but told myself that I exist only to please Master and
if this was what he wanted, then it was only right and proper that I had
it done. The next day my gums had healed enough for me to give Master a
blowjob and had to admit to myself that it was probably better this way.
Master's beautiful cock sliding effortlessly in it's smooth sheath all
the way down in my throat. Since my being smooth-gummed pleased Master,
I had to be grateful to him for making me ask for this and I thanked him
humbly. 

The next modification Master made me to ask for was strange, but
enticing even to me so I asked without the slightest hesitation. Master
wanted to lengthen my tongue, so for more than four months I went around
all day with a four-pound weight attached to steel band tied around my
tongue. At night a special frame was secured to my head and wires from
the frame pulled at my tongue. This combined with some kind of hormone
therapy gradually made my tongue longer and longer until I reached the
point where my speech was severely impeded. I lisped terribly now and
some words were impossible for me to even say. The modification pleased
Master though and so it pleased me. I hadn't really spoken that much
anyway, and my new, longer tongue certainly improved my performance when
providing Master with blowjobs, so it made me happy as well. 

After that the modifications to my body began to get more and more
severe and irreversible. First came a minor one, when Master had me ask
to have my sense of smell and taste removed. Why Master thought this was
a good idea, I didn't know but I asked instantly and a truly vile
chemical was poured into my mouth and nose. It burned and itched and it
is the last sensation of taste or smell I ever had. After that all my
tongue was able to pick up was the texture of whatever Master put into
my mouth. It wasn't until I lost it I realized how much I had used it.
Sure, I was now free from the taste of urine and the taste and smell of
the dirt I licked off Master's shoes, but I as also deprived of the
taste of his wonderful cum, the taste of which had been one of the daily
high-points of my humble existence. 

The loss of my sense of taste and smell made me terribly sad, but I
could still carry on my normal duties. That stopped when Master had me
ask for the next modification. With that modification my life as
Master's devoted, little sissy-maid ended. The next modification I asked
Master for at his wish, was for him to have my arms removed. I was well
enough trained to ask without hesitation, but once I had made the
request I broke down sobbing as I heard him say: "Well, you asked for it
slave." 

This time the doctor was a little less surprised when I knelt down and
asked him, but still you could see that the request was unusual. He had
been expecting something, however, because in a matter of minutes I had
been sedated and two days later I as awoken so that Master could take me
home. It took several weeks for me to heal and I feared that the
household would suffer now that I could no longer perform my daily
duties. I should have known that Master had thought of that as well.
While I had been unconscious he had bought a new little sissy-maid, a
petite black sissy named Rebecca. Like me she had huge tits and was
thoroughly chastised and just like me she was hopelessly devoted to
Master. I was more than a little jealous of her and she in turn of me.
She was jealous because it quickly turned out that I received by far the
most attention from Master, but her jealousy was tempered by fear. It
was quite clear that she torn between her devotion to Master and what
she could clearly see had been the price devotion for me. Now, however,
she took care of the household while I "only" had to be a sex object
24/7. It was my only function since I could do nothing else. Master
would fuck me endlessly, just as I gave him countless blowjobs or lay on
my back as he whipped and fucked my enormous tits. 

My new armless state meant that I had to learn a great deal of things
anew: walking, standing still and getting up were just the most basic.
My balance had been disrupted and it took months for me to relearn these
basic skills. At the same time Master made my life even more difficult.
First he stepped up my corset training until my waist had been reduced
to a mere thirteen inches with a six-inch pipe stem. My breath now came
in short little gasps and I never seemed to be able to catch my breath.
It was like Master now played his breath games with me around the clock.
Then he decided that I should have my ankles chained together
permanently and I was fitted with shiny steel shackles connected by a
six-inch chain. These too I wore constantly and like my boots they only
came off when my feet were washed. After my feet the turn came to my
neck, which he now fitted with what can only be described as a neck
corset. It was pink and brutally rigid, forcing me to hold my head in
the same position all the time, unable to turn my head at all or even
look down. Finally he saw to my tits. He first had them hormonally
enlarged from their already enormous 44EE to an unbelievable 98FF. It
not only made it necessary for me to learn how to walk again, but it
also further restricted my already severely limited mobility. Now there
were doorways that I was unable to get through without having my tits
greased up and someone pushing me through. 

Once Master had made me ask for these changes, he allowed me to just go
about my business for a little over a year. In that year he fucked me
mercilessly all the time and I readily admit that I enjoyed the
attention. When I wasn't used or Master was away I was hooded and bound
and thrown in a box, but that was OK by me. As I existed only to please
Master, and since my current shape obviously pleased him I was happy
too. The amount of attention clearly did not sit well with Rebecca, but
there was nothing I could do about it and frankly I didn't care much.
Her jealousy was still tempered by fear and pity so her treatment of me
was fine. We didn't talk much since Master seldom allowed it, but we did
become good friends while she took care of my everyday needs, like
feeding, washing and going to the bathroom. 

Although I had lost much since becoming a sissy-slave, I had also gained
something. I was owned by a man to whom I was completely devoted, and in
a strange way he cared for me; molding me into the shape he thought was
best. 

Then after more than two years as Master's slave he had me ask for my
final modification, although transformation is perhaps a better word.
The final modification I asked for turned me into what I am now. The
first thing was minor as he made me ask him to remove all my hair
permanently. But the next things were far worse. The second thing I had
to ask for was the removal of my vocal cords. Since this would remove my
ability to beg, I also asked for the other modifications at the same
time: the removal of my eyes and the removal of my ability to hear. 

I cried and trembled, vomited with fear, but again I asked Master
without hesitation because I knew that it would please him. I exist only
to please Master. 

And so he turned me into what I am now: a blind, deaf, mute and armless
slave, with no sense of taste or smell, with mangled feet and freakishly
large tits. The only sense left to me is the sense of touch and even
that he has found a way to limit severely. I am covered in what I think
is a thick layer of soft rubber. Only a few places are left free: my
mouth, my nipples, my ass and my imprisoned cock. Even my nose is sealed
off, the nostrils lined with metal and the nose itself covered in rubber
like the rest of me. These are the only places where I receive
sensations from the world outside my prison. Sometimes my cock is
released and someone (I think it must be Rebecca) plays with my
throbbing member for what seems like hours at a time. I am never allowed
release and since I have no voice and no eyes, I can neither beg nor
cry. Master regularly fucks my face and ass and these are the only times
I feel any real pleasure. Otherwise I feel almost exclusively pain and
denial. Denial when Rebecca, or who else it might be, plays with my cock
and pain in almost all other instances. 

There is no way in which I can be told what Master wants me to do. I can
only be told what I must not do, and this is done by punishing me,
mostly by needles inserted into my balls or tits, or electric shocks in
those areas as well. Typically it starts with an electric shock to my
balls, after which I try to do what I think is required of me, walking
in some direction for instance. When this proves to be wrong I am
punished again and must try something new. This continues until I have
found out what is required of me or until I collapse from the pain. My
situation is complicated by the fact that Master loves to torture his
slaves for sport, so it might be that I am tortured just to please him.
This is of course something I must not only accept, but relish in since
I exist only to please Master. 

I have lost all sense of time. I don't know if I have been sealed off
like this for weeks, months or years, but my guess is that I have been
like this for years: constantly horny without the prospect of release
and with pain as the only real connection to the outside world. Also I
don't know when I am awake or when I am dreaming. My dreams are now
filled with Master's cock ramming into me in the silent darkness, with
pain and denial and constant unfulfilled need; the same things that fill
my waking hours. I used to dream of the time before I was robbed of all
my senses, when I minced around as Master's devoted little sissy-maid,
but those dreams have disappeared now to be replaced by dreams of
sense-deprived sex and abuse. Sometimes I think that I will wake up
screaming only to find that I don't even know if I am awake or dreaming.
When the panic fades a little I remember that it is good that I am like
this. I am sealed off in this sense-deprived darkness because that is
the way it is supposed to be; it is the way I asked that it should be. I
am locked in this unfulfilled state between waking nightmare and
dreaming nightmare because Master wants it that way. And that makes it
good, because I exist only to please Master. This thought is always at
the forefront of my mind: I exist only to please Master. 

THE END 2NN 

I hope you enjoyed the story. Drop me a line at story_2nn@yahoo.com and
tell what you thought of the story. Which parts you liked and which you
disliked and why you liked or disliked them. 



Review This Story || Author: 2nn
Previous Chapter Back to Content & Review of this story Display the whole story in new window (text only) Previous Story Back to List of Newest Stories Next Story Back to BDSM Library Home