Permanent Stay in Mastersville

Permanent stay in Mastersville by 2NN 

This is strictly adult material. If you are a minor or don't like
sexually explicit stories dealing with such matters as severe BDSM and
transgendered sex, go somewhere else now. 

Chapter 1 
I had just turned eighteen, finished high school and was ready
to take on the world. My parents were long dead and I hated my foster
family and they hated me, so when I turned eighteen and finished high
school our ways parted. I left the small town I had grown up in never to
return. I had no real friends in town and certainly no family, so no one
would miss me. Like everyone else I had dreamed about the city so that's
where I planned to go. But the city was a long way off and I had very
little money, so I had to work my way to town. It wasn't hard to get odd
jobs in the small towns along the way: washing dishes, cleaning floors,
doing a little housework. People were friendly enough and many times
told me where work was to be found. I was never very big and I am very
slight of build, so no one saw me as a threat. 

I had been on the road for three weeks when I came Mastersville. Even
before I entered town a police car came cruising up and the policeman
inside, a huge man sitting alone in his cruiser, leaned out and asked
me: "Passin' through son?" His tone was friendly enough but there was no
mistaking the fact that he didn't want any vagrants or troublemakers and
that the question was an attempt to sound me out. I quickly replied in
my most polite tone of voice: "Yes sir. I'm just passing through." He
nodded at this and said: "You wouldn't by any chance be looking for a
little work, now would you now son?" The question was definitely
friendly and I did need money, so I replied that, yes I did indeed need
a little work. Again he nodded and smiled: "If you're interested, I know
a little old lady who needs a little help around the house for a week or
so." It sounded good so I said that that would be fine and soon I sat on
the seat beside him as he gave me a ride across town. I was amazed at my
luck and enjoyed the ride to the old lady's place. It turned out to be a
grand old mansion about a mile outside town. It lay hidden from the road
behind a small grove of trees. 

The policeman came up to the front door with me and rang the bell. A
maid opened the door. She was so beautiful that it almost stopped me in
my tracks. Tall and blonde, with very large and full breasts, not even
her old-fashioned uniform could hide the fact that she was very sexy.
She had big, blue eyes and full, red lips that looked ready to kiss. Her
uniform shirt was made from black silk and had long sleeves with white
lace at the ends accentuating her dainty hands and perfectly manicured
red fingernails. Her skirt was also made from black silk and extended to
just below her knees. It didn't cling to her curves, but it certainly
didn't hide them either. Although you could only see the lower part of
her legs, they also looked very attractive, covered in black, nylon
stockings. On her feet were black, leather Oxfords with stilettos at
least six-inches high. She wore a little white lace apron and when she
opened the door she clearly recognized the policeman: "Sheriff
Masterton, how good to see you. How may I help you?" She looked demurely
down as she spoke and I got the impression that she was a bit afraid of
the sheriff. The sheriff smiled at her and said that he had brought
someone who wanted to work for Miss Maitresse. For the first time the
maid seemed to notice my presence as she shot me a frightened look
before replying: "Of course sheriff. Won't you come in while I get Miss
Maitresse?" She led us into the hall, closed the door after us and went
to get her mistress. As she walked away I couldn't keep my eyes off her
absolutely perfect ass as it swayed in a most enticing manner. The
sheriff was definitely getting an eyeful as well. 

A few minutes later Miss Maitresse appeared with the maid trailing a few
steps behind her. "Sheriff Masterton!" she exclaimed, "how good of you
to come. I hear that you have found someone to clean out my shed?" The
sheriff said that that was indeed the case and indicated me. Miss
Maitresse looked me over very carefully, like I was being inspected. She
was a woman of about fifty and more than a little severe looking. Her
graying, blonde hair was pulled into a very tight bun, making her
otherwise very attractive face look a bit strained. She wore a black
business suit of obvious quality. The cut was just right, accentuating
her still very attractive body while managing to impart a distinguished
look to her as well. The skirt ended just below the knee and on her feet
were a pair of black, stilettos at least six-inches high. A very
attractive woman, if very severe. After looking at me for half-a-minute
she asked me: "What's your name?" I replied that me name was Tom and
that I would be most grateful for a little work if she had any. The maid
flinched at this, but otherwise remained quiet. Miss Maitresse asked me
a few more questions before informing me that I could have the job if I
wanted it. She said that it would probably take a couple of days and
that I could sleep in the basement. We discussed pay for a short while
before shaking hands on it. 

The sheriff made his goodbyes and Miss Maitresse led me through the
house and out into the garden. The garden was very large and in it lay
two rather large sheds. As she opened the door to one of them I could
see why she would hire someone for the job. It was filled to the
bursting point with all manner of garbage, old furniture being among the
more useful items. She instructed me as to what she wanted me to do and
left me with the work. There was no sense in drawing it out, so I set
down my bag and began to work. It was hard and thirsty work and after
about two hours the maid came over to offer me drink. "If you would like
something to drink, I have lemonade in the kitchen?" I was very thirsty
and I said that I would love to have a drink. So I followed her back to
the house. She really was a very beautiful girl. In the kitchen I
greedily drank three large glasses of lemonade. It had funny taste but I
was thirsty and I didn't want to offend the pretty maid who stood by
with a pitcher full of it, ready to fill my glass. After setting down my
glass, I thanked the girl and turned to leave. Just then I started to
feel funny. It was like the world began spinning and my legs felt all
rubbery. I tried to support myself against a table but it was no good. I
quickly lost control of my limbs and collapsed on the floor, unable to
move at all. But even though I was paralyzed I could still see and hear,
and I clearly saw the pretty maid standing with her pitcher of lemonade,
crying hard, her shoulders moving with great, big sobs. She knelt down
beside me, the pitcher still in her hands and cried: "I'm sorry. I'm so
sorry. She forced me... please." She babbled her excuses at me for a while
until a shadow fell on her. From above I heard Miss Maitresse's stern
voice: "Diane, you useless piece of slave shit! You were supposed to
undress the little sissy-shit, not cry on her. Now I'll have to punish
you as well! Stupid bitch!" Diane cried even harder at this as she tried
to apologize. At the same time she set down the pitcher and began
undressing me with panicky movements. As I lay completely paralyzed she
tugged off my trousers and my shirt before moving on to my socks and my
underwear. All the time she tried apologizing to Miss Maitresse who in
the end grew tired of listening to her babble. Once my clothes were off
she produced a riding crop, which she used to beat Diane severely with.
When Diane had been reduced to a sobbing heap Miss Maitresse stopped and
allowed Diane to recover somewhat before ordering her to get me into the
basement. Miss Maitresse walked out of the room ahead of the crying
maid, her high heels clicking away as Diane, still sobbing, took my arms
and dragged me out of the kitchen and into the hall. While she dragged
me I was completely limp, unable to move a muscle in my body. I tried
speaking but couldn't even achieve a weak gasp. Meanwhile Diane had
dragged me into an elevator. Along the way the paralyzing effect had
reached my bladder and I was now leaving a trail of urine on the floor.
Not only was it disgusting; it was most humiliating as well. Diane
dragged me into the elevator and had propped me up in a sitting position
when Miss Maitresse appeared again. She looked at the trail of urine and
slapped Diane hard on the side of her face: "Useless cunt," she yelled;
"now look what you've done. Clean it this instant. The hard way." This
made Diane cry even harder, but she obeyed without hesitation and walked
into the kitchen. Miss Maitresse and I waited for her in the elevator
and a few minutes later she came back, crawling on hands and knees. She
was licking the floor clean; carefully swallowing everything she licked
up from the floor, a look of humiliation and disgust painted on her
pretty face. When she reached me she looked imploringly up at Miss
Maitresse who just nodded for her to go on. Diane then put her head in
my crotch and I felt her tongue on my penis. It was disgusting that she
was sucking my cock to remove the last traces of urine, but it was also
very arousing and in seconds my cock stood at full mast. Too soon she
had licked me clean she and looked up at Miss Maitresse. Without a word
she pressed a button and the elevator doors closed and the elevator
traveled a short distance down. If I had been able to utter a sound I
would have moaned with frustration as her lips and tongue left my cock.
Here Miss Maitresse left the elevator and Diane dragged me out,
following in her mistress' footsteps. 

Soon we were in what was obviously a dungeon. Here Miss Maitresse
watched as Diane locked leather cuffs connected by a short chain onto my
hands, connected them to a chain hanging down from the ceiling and used
a motor winch to hoist me up until the tips of my toes were just
touching the ground. Miss Maitresse held my head while this went on,
preventing it from flopping around and injuring me in the process. Once
I was in position she rested my chin on my chest and led Diane off to
the side. I couldn't see what went on, but it was pretty clear from the
sounds. First Miss Maitresse washed Diane's mouth, rather brutally
judging by the sounds. Then she made her strip before subjecting her to
another round of whipping. Finally she stopped and led the sobbing
slave-maid over to stand in front of me. Miss Maitresse lifted up my
head and addressed me: "You are no doubt wondering what is going on and
what is going to happen to you." If I had been able to nod, I would
have. Instead she went on: "Diane, you worthless cow, show him what is
going to happen to him." Diane stood just behind Miss Maitresse, dressed
only in a tiny pair of black, silk panties, a garter belt and her black
stockings and her black Oxfords with six-inch stilettos. She was covered
in red welts and her eyes were red and swollen from crying. Presently
she removed her panties and then she undid something just above her ass.
It was a thin steel wire and now she pulled it out between her legs,
revealing her secret. The steel wire was attached to a very small metal
tube and inside this tube Diane's tiny, abused and compressed member was
imprisoned. Diane wasn't a girl! She was a man, just like me! If I had
been able, I would have screamed with surprise, but as it was I just
hung limply as Miss Maitresse calmly and in very few words described
what would happen to me: "I am going to turn you into a little shemale
slave maid like Diane here. When your training begins in earnest I'm
going to sell this useless bitch and you will take her place. And when
your training is complete, as Diane's is now, I'm going to find a
replacement for you as well and make some money selling you. You will
address me as Mistress and always remember that you are a useless slave
and that I am your ruler, your owner." I wanted to scream with horror,
but was unable to. Instead I just hung limply as Mistress ordered Diane
to begin preparing me. As she began I got a better look at her member.
The tube, or more appropriately the chastity device, which held her cock
was an impossibly small tube, which compressed Diane's member violently.
Only her cock head stuck out of one end and it too was restrained by
thin strips of metal attached to the tube. The cock head strained
against its prison and from the tips of her cock a constant stream of
pre-cum dribbled. At the other end of the tube a steel wire was
attached. This was secured to a steel mesh pouch compressing Diane's
balls. The two parts were locked together and were impossible to get off
without the help of the key and even then it would be difficult. 

Meanwhile Diane first went behind me and shoved something up my ass. My
muscles still didn't function properly, so she had no trouble shoving it
all the way up my colon. Once in position she inflated some kind of
balloon inside me, preventing the tube from falling out or being
expelled. I thought this balloon was most unpleasant, but as it turned
out the balloon was almost nice compared to what came next. The tube in
place Diane then pumped what seemed to me a huge amount of warm water up
my ass. I wanted to scream as it filled me up, eventually even
distending my belly, but again I was mute and paralyzed. Finally she
stopped and as Mistress watched she let me hang there, my belly
distended with the enema. Finally Mistress nodded to Diane who the
released the air from the balloon and removed the tube. The shitty water
just fell out of me, as I had no power to expel it. All the same it felt
heavenly, one of the most relieving experiences of my life. Foolishly I
thought it was over, but almost Diane had the tube up my ass again and
soon I was being pumped full of warm water, like some kind of obscene
human balloon. All in all I received seven enemas in a row and by the
end of the last one I wanted to beg for mercy. I would do anything to
make her stop and if I had been able to, I would have cried with relief
when Diane stopped. 

At the signal from Mistress Diane then put all my hair beneath a bathing
cap. Then she taped over my eyes and eyebrows and my mouth. Wasting no
time she then covered my entire body in a thick lather of slimy goo,
making sure that the foul stuff reached into even my deepest crevices.
Then she left me alone for a while. After a few minutes the stuff began
to burn and soon all I wanted to do was scream in pain. I was sure that
my skin was being burned off, but no one helped me. Finally I felt a
powerful spray of ice-cold water wash away the goo. After drying me with
a nice fluffy towel Diane removed the tape and the bathing cap. My chin
was still resting on my chest so I was looking straight down. Looking
down I realized that I now had no pubic hair. In fact I had no hair
anywhere on my body. The only hair I had was my eyebrows and the hair on
my head and it has been so ever since. The goo removed even the ability
to grow hair and to this day my body is completely hairless. 

Again moving at Mistress' command Diane then proceeded to dress me -
sort of. First she put a pair of black, leather Oxfords with ultra-thin
six-inch stilettos on my feet. Shoes similar to her own. Then she tied a
thin leather strap around my waist and fitted my neck with a broad,
black collar. Standing on a stool so that she could reach, she fitted my
hands with black, rubber mittens with rings at the ends. The mittens
compressed my hands into cone-like shapes, rendering them useless. After
that she stood back as Mistress came into view. By now I was gradually
beginning to gain some control over my muscles and one of the first
things I did with this newfound control was to speak up. I started to
object and call for help, but my cries were so weak that it made
Mistress chuckle with derision. She quickly fixed the noise, however,
equipping me with a jaw wrenching black ball gag, effectively silencing
me. Mistress then began running her hands over my body, gently and
enticing. At first I tried to pull away, but a warning slap from her
riding drop convinced me that this was not a good idea. I was scared and
I hated the thought of what she wanted to do to me, but nonetheless it
took her less than a minute to get my cock rock-hard and throbbing with
need. Her hands were those of a true expert and soon I threw back my
head and moaned as her knowledgeable hands stroked my cock. I knew I
should resist and hate her, but still I found myself responding and soon
I was on my way to a truly magnificent orgasm. But just before I came,
she pulled her hand away and laughed, the sound filled with utter
contempt. I whimpered in a most humiliating way as her hands left me
while I uselessly jerked my hips in her direction. Instead she left me
and undressed. Wearing just her high heels she picked up a huge strap-on
dildo and strapped it in place, the giant pole protruding from her
crotch in a most un-feminine manner. 

I guessed what was coming and whimpered with fear as she went behind me.
I wanted to draw away but there was nowhere to go. Standing behind me,
she caressed my naked and hairless body as she spoke: "You will relax
and let me fuck your virgin shemale pussy without any form of resistance
or I will whip you, only good. Understood?" There was no mistaking her
tone and my helplessness and I nodded my defeat. With that she spread my
butt-cheeks and started to insert the monstrous strap-on into my ass.
Even if I had admitted my defeat my body got the better of me and in
reflex I clenched my buttocks. This made Mistress absolutely furious and
soon blows from her riding crop were raining down on my defenseless
body, reducing me to a crying wreck who tried to plead through his gag.
After once again showing me who was the boss, she went behind me again
and this time I managed to unclench my buttocks as the absolutely huge
dildo entered my ass. I groan and strained, my breath growing ragged and
irregular as the giant filled me completely. I was impaled and my toes
were now dangling about an inch off the floor. At first Mistress didn't
move at all, instead settling for the amusement in observing me twitch
on her cock, impaled and defenseless. After a few minutes of this she
started to fuck me, slowly at first, but gradually increasing the tempo
until she was really leaning into it, the cock pounding my ass, making
me scream and groan as it pounded in and out. To my astonishment I felt
myself growing hard from the fucking. My cock responded automatically to
the pressure on my prostate and as it grew hard Mistress also grabbed my
cock and began stroking it. Soon I was torn between hating the fucking
and the lack of control and loving the fantastic sensation of being
fucked by an expert. In the end the last sensation won out and I
approached a truly magnificent orgasm. But again, just before I came,
Mistress removed her hand, leaving me hanging. I whimpered with need and
just then she removed my gag and spat into my ear: "Beg for it, you
useless cunt!" She had me and I only hesitated for a second before I
began begging: "Please Mistress! Won't you please let me cum? Please
Mistress?" She laughed and grabbed my cock again and told me to beg some
more. In the end I had to beg until I was crying with humiliation before
she let me cum. When I did cum it was fantastic. I screamed with
pleasure as a huge stream of cum pumped out of my needy cock and my ass
reflexively tried to pump the artificial cock. 

Realizing what she had made me do, I hung limply in my bonds sobbing
with humiliation and guilt over enjoying the fucking so much. Mistress
chuckled derisively and scorned me loudly, repeating what a useless
sissy I was. Then she withdrew her monster cock and I groaned with
relief and with a strange sense of loss. After the initial discomfort I
had to admit to myself that I had grown to like the fucking. It was
extremely humiliating, but there was no way around it. 

When I turned my attention away from the sensation in my ass, I noticed
that the last effects of the paralysis were gone. I also noticed that
Diane was licking up my cum from the floor without even being told to do
so. I wanted to ask why Mistress was doing this to me, but she cut me
short, inserting once again the gag into my mouth, wrenching my jaws
apart. She then barked an order at Diane, instructing her to get on with
it. Diane sprang into action and soon she was gently licking my cock,
removing the last traces of cum. Again I moaned with pleasure, but it
proved to be short-lived. Mistress pushed Diane away and placed an ice
pack around my genitals. The shock was tremendous and I screamed with
surprise. In seconds my cock shrank and shriveled but Mistress still
held the ice on my genitals. I writhed and whimpered but to no use. In
the end my cock and my balls were barely visible as I looked down my
body and they were almost completely numb. Then came the cruelest
surprise of all. Mistress produced what was obviously a chastity device
just like the one Diane was wearing. I tried screaming and pulling away
but Mistress had Diane hold me as she put it on me with a great deal of
effort. She lubricated the tube with some kind of very cold grease and
as it slid up my cock, compressing it almost intolerably as it did, I
could feel and hear Diane sob in sympathy. The compression was so great
that I felt it in spite of the fact that my genitals were nearly numb
from the cold. The mesh cage around my balls was just as bad and here
the pain was even worse. After a few minutes of squeezing and tugging I
was imprisoned just like Diane. 

Mistress was obviously pleased with the result as she stood back.
"Almost ready to take you to the doctor, you worthless sissy-shit. It
will be a long, long time before you cum again," she said as she laughed
a little under her breath. Her amusement only increased when I,
humiliating myself even further, began to cry. "Useless, little sissy,"
She remarked as she operated the winch, setting my feet on the ground
again. Now that all my weight was pressing down on my feet again I
noticed just how small and uncomfortable the stiletto shoes she had put
on me were. They were at least one size too small and squeezed my feet
and my toes unbearably. Keeping my balance was also very difficult and I
stood there, swaying insecurely. Mistress noticed and said calmly: "You
had better learn how to walk properly in those shoes, because from now
on you'll never wear anything but stilettos." I was too busy focusing on
keeping my balance and on the pain in my body to put up much of a fight
as Mistress released my hands one at a time, only to secure the mittens
they were sealed inside to my collar so that I now stood holding my
hands to my neck. To make sure that I was completely helpless Mistress
pulled my elbows behind my back and tied a strap between them, pulling
them as closely together as they would go. As if I wasn't helpless
enough she finished the job by putting me on a leash, not to my collar,
but to the tips of my chastity tube so that she now led me by my
imprisoned cock. She led me out of the dungeon, pulling viciously on the
leash as I lagged behind on unsteady feet. I tried objecting to this,
but all I accomplished by that was a new round of whipping and I decided
that I had no choice but to follow this cruel woman. And although I
didn't want to admit it, not even to myself, I was also curious about
what was going to happen to and more than a little turned on by her
treatment of me. Up until that moment I hadn't been aware of it, but I
was becoming clear to me that I was more than a little submissive. Being
dominated by this brutal woman actually turned me on! 

Chapter 2 
I had some time to think about this as she dragged me out the
front door and threw me into the backseat of her car, shut the door and
left me there as she went back into the house. I sat there in the car
thinking about what would happen to me, if Mistress had really meant
what she had said about turning me into a shemale slave. I quickly
decided that she had indeed meant it and that if I didn't soon find a
way to escape I would very likely end up looking and behaving just like
Diane. The thought that really scared me though, was not the prospect of
being turned into a sissy-slave, but the thought that I might actually
like it! As I thought about my fate I found my cock trying to get hard.
I tried willing it to go limp, tried telling myself that I hated
everything Mistress had done to me, but it was no good. I found myself
thinking about the fantastic orgasm she had given me and how much I had
liked being fucked up the ass - hard. In the end I had to admit that
submitting to Mistress turned me on a great deal. At the same time I
didn't want to spend the rest of my life as a slave and I tried getting
out of the car, out of my bonds. All to no avail. Although the door was
unlocked I was unable to even open it and I was completely unable to do
anything about my bonds. When Mistress returned to the car more than
half an hour later, I was crying with frustration. She laughed at this
as she set the car in motion and drove into town. As we moved I realized
that here I was in the backseat, completely naked and bound for all to
see. Surely someone would notice and call the police. For the first time
I began to hope for release. 

My hope was dashed all too soon as we drove into town. To my dismay and
surprise all the people we passed, whether they were in other cars or in
the street, clearly saw me before greeting Mistress like nothing had
happened, like it was perfectly normal for Mistress to have a naked and
bound slave sitting in the backseat. After a few minutes I even stopped
trying to call out behind my gag. Just how normal everyone in town
considered Mistress' behavior became clear to me when she stopped the
car in front a shop on Main Street. Mistress opened the door and helped
me stand before leading my by the cock towards the shop. On the sidewalk
she met a couple of old ladies and engaged in a short conversation.
Neither lady seemed to really notice me before one of them spoke: "I see
that you have caught a new one Inga? Are you going to turn this one into
a shemale slave as well or will you be going with a more traditional
faggot theme?" I was shocked that such dear old lady would speak like
that, but Mistress seemed to think it perfectly normal and replied:
"Well actually it was the sheriff who caught this one. He was kind
enough to lead her to my door. You know he has one in training himself
at the moment, so he was kind enough to bring this bitch to me. And yes,
I am going to go with the sissy theme with this one." The old ladies
nodded as Mistress continued: "In fact I am taking her to the doctor,
but I wanted to stop by Heinrich first." She nodded towards the shop,
"Heinrich Meister - shoes for every occasion". "Heinrich has the best
eye in town for how much tit the little shits can handle and still be
sellable." I reeled at this and tried to pull away while I called out
behind my gag. The leash didn't allow me to get very far away and before
Mistress could react one of the little old ladies held my balls in a
vice grip. "I will tolerate no shenanigans from you girl," she informed
me with an icy stare and squeezed my balls viciously. I tried screaming,
but I had no air left in my lungs as the pain enveloped me and I felt my
legs giving in. Mistress, however, would have none of it. She grasped me
by the neck and sneered into my face: "Don't you dare fall slave. I'll
whip your skin off if you do." The promise of more pain helped me focus
and I managed to stay on my feet and remain absolutely quiet for the
rest of their conversation. While they spoke several people passed us.
None cast more than a cursory glance at me and all greeted Mistress like
a dear old friend. It seemed perfectly normal to have slaves in this
town. 

Meanwhile I was growing cold as I stood there, naked in the street in
early autumn and I was actually relieved when Mistress said goodbye to
the ladies and led me into the shoe shop. Inside the shoe shop the first
thing I noticed was that there did indeed seem to be shoes for every
occasion - that is if you meant stiletto shoes for every occasion. Every
nook and cranny of the store was filled with high-heeled shoe of every
possible description. A young man, about the same age as myself, was
helping a very elegant lady pick a pair of shoes. The lady was not
unlike Mistress, in her fifties with a slender and attractive body, her
gently graying hair pulled back in a tight bun. She wore pointy, fifties
style glasses enhancing the severity of her looks. She wore a very
elegant, pink set of matching jacket and skirt and although she was now
trying on a variety of high-heeled shoes I noticed that the shoes she
had arrived in was a pair of black pumps with seven-inch stilettos.
Kneeling in front of her, putting shoes on and taking them off, was not
the young man, but a female slave. She was dressed from head to toe in
skin-tight blue rubber, covering all of her body and most of her head as
well. Only her hands and face were uncovered and in her mouth resided a
monster ball-gag, in a matching blue color of course. Her wrists were
connected by a short chain, no more than six inches long, as were her
ankles. On her feet were black ballet-toed boots with stilettos more
than eight inches high. Her waist was impossibly constricted by a blue
corset and from her ass and pussy two black, monster dildos protruded.
The girl looked terrified of her owner, who in turn barely acknowledged
her presence. 

When the shop assistant and the elegant lady saw Mistress, both greeted
her as an old friend. The lady quickly put on her old shoes and stood
up, kicking the poor slave over on her side in dismay over her slow
reactions. After exchanging the usual pleasantries, Mistress turned to
the young man: "Jason, is your Dad in? I want to ask for a bit of advice
regarding my newest acquisition." She nodded in my direction and Jason
seemed to notice me for the first time. He now turned his full attention
towards me and after asking for Mistress' permission he let his hands
roam my body. At the same time he looked me straight in the eye. It was
intensely embarrassing to be looked at in this way by a boy no older
than myself and I quickly dropped my gaze. He reacted promptly to this,
slapping my face hard and yelling: "Don't you dare look away until I
tell you to, you worthless, little faggot!" Terrified I looked up again
and he resumed his exploration of my body. I had just begun to realize
that I might be submissive by nature, but I wasn't ready for my own
reactions to his touch. After less than a minute I found myself getting
aroused by the treatment, my poor imprisoned cock trying desperately to
get hard, not for the last time causing me great pain as it did. When he
gently slid his hands over my ass and chest I actually whimpered with
need, much to my embarrassment. He finally allowed me to look down in
shame as he and Mistress shared a laugh at my expense. 

What was happening to me? I had never had any homosexual fantasies and
yet here I was practically on the verge of begging this young man to
fuck me, to take me and control me. As his hands had roamed my body, I
had experienced a powerful urge to just submit. I kept telling myself
that this was not what I wanted, that I didn't want to spend the rest of
my life as a slave and yet I hardly resisted when Mistress or any other
tried to control me, and indeed I found myself getting aroused by the
control. It was extremely confusing. 

My chain of thought was interrupted by Mistress speaking to the young
man: "My, my Jason. You have really uncovered this girl's submissive
streak. I had noticed that she was unusually docile, but this display of
slave lust and affection is quite extraordinary. Now if you will excuse
me, I have to speak to your father." Jason smiled wickedly in my
direction and replied: "Of course, Miss Maitresse. He's out back
teaching the new little faggot how to perform a proper blowjob. The
little shit came back from the dentist yesterday and he hasn't quite
adjusted to giving blowjobs smooth-gummed." Mistress, the lady and Jason
laughed at this, whereas I stiffened with horror. Had he actually just
said that they had removed the teeth of the poor slave? I could hardly
believe such cruelty, but I had little time to reflect as I was dragged
into the backroom of the store. 

Here Mistress found Mr. Meister, who was indeed having his slave boy
perform a blowjob. Mr. Meister was a very large man, broad in the
shoulders and chest and with a flat, broad face. He had his pants down
around his ankles and his legs and crotch were very hairy. Kneeling in
front of him was a slave boy about my age. The only things he wore were
a pair of high-heeled shoes, a tight steel collar and a chastity device.
His chastity device was a black, rubber pouch imprisoning both his cock
and his balls and pulled so tightly that they were no more than very
small, black sphere in his crotch. He had longish, blonde hair and his
ass was almost glowing red from the spanking he had obviously received.
As he deep-throated Mr. Meister, tears rolled down his cheeks. His body
was completely hairless and had been rubbed with some kind of oil,
giving it a smooth and attractive appearance. Presently Mr. Meister
grabbed the boy's head with both hands and began to make urgent jerking
movements with his hips as his orgasm approached. As he came, he pushed
his cock in until the boy's lips touched his pubic hair and Mr.
Meister's cock was deep down his throat. Mr. Meister held the boys head
there as he shot his load down the slave's throat and after a while the
boy began jerking and twisting as the cock gradually choked him. He was,
however, trained well enough not to try to push himself free, but rather
waited for his master to release him. When Mr. Meister finally did
release the slave boy, his struggles had stopped and he hung limply, his
mouth still attached to his master's crotch. As Mr. Meister pushed him
off he flopped limply onto the floor and it was several seconds before
he began coughing and retching as his breathing gradually returned.
Meanwhile Mistress had greeted Mr. Meister and both were talking
seemingly without noticing the slave boy, who might as well have choked
to death. Once again I was both badly scared and quite turned on by this
display of brutal domination and I told myself not to cringe as Mr.
Meister turned his attention to me at Mistress' asking. Like his son, he
let his hands roam freely over my body at first, but then their
attention turned to my chest, which he fondled and prodded for quite a
while. While he did this, the slave boy had regained enough
consciousness and composure to get up and crawl over by his master's
side, where he knelt, his head slightly down, arms behind his back and
his chest out. 

Mr. Meister's examination of me was most humiliating and surprisingly
painful, but after several minutes he let me go and turned to Mistress:
"Submissive this one, ehh?" he remarked before continuing. "His build is
quite slender, but also quite strong so I think that he can take a pair
of quite large tits; say 42EE or maybe even 44EE." While Mistress nodded
as if she had thought the same thing, I started at this. Huge tits? On
my chest? The thought alone was enough to make me want to scream. "Thank
you Heinrich," Mistress said. "Your advice is, as always, valued
highly." Mr. Meister nodded at this before Mistress continued: "I was
thinking along the same lines. Diane is, as you well know, more ...
conventional when it comes to her tits and will probably be sold at a
reasonable, but not outrageous price. This one on the other hand has the
potential to become a big-titted, super-submissive freak given the right
training, and we both know that slaves like that fetch much higher
prices. Yes, I think that I'll go with your advice. 44EE seems
reasonable." I wanted to scream. Giving me huge tits, training and
selling me as a slave was a nightmare, but neither was interested in my
opinion. Instead Mistress interest turned to the kneeling slave. Nodding
in his direction she asked Mr. Meister: "I presume that his training is
nearly complete?" Meister nodded and replied: "Yes indeed. He needs to
relearn a few blowjob tricks now that his teeth have been removed, but
otherwise he's ready. I even have a buyer for him." Mistress looked up
and asked: "Anyone I know of?" Mr. Meister chuckled as he replied: "Oh
yes. Mr. Houseman is most interested in him." Now Mistress laughed as
well. "Oh, I do hope that he has been trained as a shit-eater? Houseman
does have his peculiarities." They both laughed at this as both the
slave boy and I shuddered with revulsion. Meister presently replied:
"Indeed I have trained him as such. Or rather Jason has seen to that
part of training. Jason hasn't used a regular toilet in over three weeks
now, so I think that this one is about ready." The two talked a little
about what a fine young man Jason was turning into and how he would soon
leave home and set up shop for himself. Meanwhile the slave boy and I
waited docilely and obediently for them to finish. I because I had no
choice and the slave boy because he had been too well trained to rebel.
I shuddered at the thought that soon I might react in the same way, but
at the same time I had to admit to a certain submissive thrill at the
thought. What was this woman turning me into? 

I would have the answer soon enough as she bid her farewells to Mr.
Meister and led me out through the shop. In the shop itself the woman
had picked a pair of shoes and was now trying them out in earnest. This
meant pushing the heel of one shoe, all seven inches of it, as far up
her slave's ass as it would go, while the slave, standing on all fours,
was giving head to Jason. The look on the slave girl's face told
everyone that it was far from pleasant, but the look of sheer dominant
intensity on the face of her owner told me that she would be subjected
to plenty more of this. As we exited the shop Jason started moaning
gently and grabbed the slaves head in anticipation of his approaching
orgasm in a gesture not unlike his father. 

To my surprise Mistress didn't put me back into the car, but rather led
me along the street for a leisurely stroll to the doctor's office. Every
few yards we were stopped by someone Mistress knew and the trip to the
doctor's office ended up taking more than an hour. When finally arrived
all I wanted to do was to sit down and rest my feet and my legs. The
shoes were killing my feet and walking in them was both painful and
unnatural. I was also quite cold, not being used to being naked all the
time although I was beginning to suspect that that would come sooner
than I wanted it to. 

The doctor's office looked like any other office belonging to a small
town family doctor; cozy but clean. An elderly lady, probably the
doctor's wife, greeted Mistress as we entered and told us to wait in the
waiting room. Again I was surprised. In the waiting room were other
people waiting to see the doctor: a man with a bandaged hand, an elderly
lady on crutches and a young mother with her teenage daughter. None of
them seemed to think it out of the ordinary that a woman came to see the
doctor dragging a bound, chastised and somewhat feminized young man
behind her. Mistress certainly didn't think it was unusual a sat down in
an empty chair. A stern look told me not to try and sit down, so I
remained standing. The pain in my feet caused me to shift them a great
deal, but again Mistress corrected my mistake and soon I stood very
still, back straight, feet together and with my head demurely down. I
could feel resistance draining from me. It seemed to be utterly futile.
I was bound and completely controlled and furthermore it seemed that the
whole town was in on this; that there was no help to be gotten. Even the
sheriff was clearly part of this town-wide slaving operation. I was
beginning to despair. 

After almost an hour the doctor finally had time to see us, and Mistress
led me into his office. The doctor was a chubby little man who seemed
pleasant enough right up until the moment they began discussing my fate.
As Mistress told him what she wanted to do me I started objecting behind
my gag. Neither would have any such nonsense and in seconds I was lying
across the doctor's lap while he spanked me soundly, making sure that he
struck my balls from time to time. After a few minutes I was again
crying, doing my best to signal that I understood and would behave. When
they were satisfied that I was going to remain calm, the doctor
unceremoniously dumped me on the floor as he discussed my fate further.
I sat in horror listening to Mistress telling the doctor that she wanted
my voice fixed and my Adams-apple removed, that she wanted my hands and
feet made as small as possible and that she wanted me equipped with a
pair of 44EE tits. At this last request the doctor chuckled and
remarked: "I see that you and Heinrich Meister have once again been
having a little chat?" Both he and Mistress laughed a little before
shaking on it, after which she turned to leave. As she did she looked at
me and said: "When we meet again you will have changed a great deal.
When you wake up again you'll see that the only possible future for you
is that of a sissy-slave, so get used to the idea. You are much more
fortunate than most of the useless little slaves I train because you are
obviously submissive." Upon seeing the look on my face she scolded me as
she continued: "Come now, don't try to deny it. You may not want to
admit it to yourself, but is quite clear that you enjoy being dominated.
I mean; I know that I'm good, but very few people have reacted as
passionately as you did when I fucked your ass. Don't even try to deny
that you loved it." My face burned with shame as I looked down. I knew
that she was absolutely right, and she clearly knew this so she
continued: "It's very rare that I give actual advice to slaves. Most
often it's just orders as it should be, but in your case I'll make an
exception. My advice is this: Relish in your natural submissiveness. You
are going to be a slave for the rest of your life. Nothing short of a
miracle can save you from that and I work hard to avoid such miracles,
so you might as well start trying to enjoy it, 'cause it's the only
pleasure you'll get for the rest of your life." 

With that she left me, her cruel words ringing ever more true in my
ears. The last few hours had taught me things about myself I hadn't
known and hadn't wanted to know, and now I had to admit that these
things were true; that Mistress had been right about me. If what she
said about my permanent state of slavery were also true, this meant that
I should undoubtedly take her advice and start trying to enjoy my status
as a slave. The very idea filled me with despair as I saw all my plans
for the future disappear into absolute submission and I was sobbing as
the doctor dragged me to my feet and called his wife, the elderly lady
from the desk outside the waiting room. She obviously didn't care much
whether I cried or not and simply led me into another room where she
directed me to sit on an examination table. I had no resistance left in
me and docilely sat down. She then produced at syringe and injected
something into my thigh. Almost instantly I began to feel woozy and
after a few seconds I fell unconscious. 

Chapter 3 
When I woke up I felt incredibly weak and when I tried to move
I found out that I was restrained in some way. Realizing this I became
wide-awake in an instant. I remembered that it hadn't all just been a
bad dream. I really had been caught and enslaved. I tried sitting up in
bed, but was help down by some kind of webbing. When I tried opening my
eyes, the light seemed so bright that I had to squint to see anything.
It took a while before I could see anything and the first thing I laid
my eyes on was Mistress talking to the doctor. They were already looking
at me and now they approached me. I was lying in a hospital type bed, my
arms, legs and body strapped down but apparently I was left ungagged. As
Mistress looked down on me I tried to plead for her to please not turn
me into a sissy-slave: "Please Mistress..." I didn't get any further than
that. The voice uttering these words was not mine. At least it didn't
sound even remotely like the voice I remembered. The voice, which had
begged Mistress, was a high and very light soprano sounding as if it
hadn't spoken in some time. It couldn't be my voice so I tried again:
"Please..." I got no further this time. There was no doubt that it was
indeed my voice. I now had a fine, light and feminine voice! How long
had I been unconscious? I couldn't feel any bandages on me, not even on
my throat. But I could feel something on my chest, an unfamiliar weight
pressing down on my chest. It couldn't be! Had they already performed
all those dreadful changes on me? But how? I couldn't have unconscious
for that long. But apparently I had as Mistress sat down on the bed
beside me and ordered me to speak again. This time I couldn't think of
what to say. I was almost paralyzed, but Mistress cured this by slapping
my face until I started begging: "Please Mistress, please stop. I'm
sorry..." My new feminine voice broke as I began to cry, an utterly
feminine sound. Mistress was very pleased: "Excellent work doctor," she
said, "Shall we see if the rest of her is just as fine?" The doctor
agreed and together they released some of the straps holding me down and
helped me to sit up in bed, leaving my hands still tied down. 

Sitting up I finally dared looked down my chest and saw that I now had a
pair of truly enormous tits. A pair of tits so huge they were vulgar.
And utterly fascinating. They were not only huge, but also almost
perfectly spherical with very large, very long nipples. I whimpered in
defeat as I saw them, my tears falling on my new tits. Mistress grabbed
my chin and forced me to look her in the eye. "Listen to me slave. The
physical part of your transformation is almost over. Now comes the
mental part, the hard part, and the sooner you submit, the easier it
will be for you. No matter what you do I'll break you and turn you into
a perfect little submissive sissy-slave. I mean just look at you. You
are all slut now." She directed my gaze down my own body and to the
changes made to it. Apart from the monstrous tits and the soprano voice,
I now had tiny hands and feet. So small in fact, that I could scarcely
believe it. My skin also looked much softer and when Mistress ran her
hand over my body I could feel that it was indeed softer. As her hand
touched my throat I could no longer feel my Adams-apple. 

Sitting tied to the bed under the control of this cruel woman, I again
felt myself responding to her against my will and to my delight I found
that my cock had been left free. I didn't say anything, but when her
hand grazed it, my cock rose to full mast, throbbing and needy, in an
instant. Mistress chuckled at this and asked me: "Would you like to cum,
my little slut? Do you want Mistress to give you a handjob?" I
desperately wanted Mistress to jerk me off and instantly forgetting all
the horrible things she had done to me, I started to beg her to please
let me cum. She laughed at me and began manipulating my member, making
me gasp with desire as my body reacted to her expert touch. Just as I
was about to cum, she withdrew her hand and told me to beg harder.
Loosing all dignity I started to beg her, to implore her to please let
me cum. After laughing at me for a while, she resumed her manipulation
of my member only to leave me hanging again. Again I started begging and
soon I was locked into a cycle of almost ecstasy and tearful begging.
She manipulated me in this way for what seemed like ages and in the end
my cock was completely slick with pre-cum, but she did not allow me to
cum. Instead she finished by drying off the pre-cum and placing a large
ice-pack on my cock. I screamed with disappointment and shock, but she
only reacted with scorn and derision. After listening to my begging and
pleading for a few minutes more, she produced a large, black ball-gag
and stuffed it into my mouth. And then, making me completely desperate,
she imprisoned my member, now tiny and cold, inside the same chastity
device I had worn when I had first come to the clinic. After that she
was all business and soon I was collared and my, now mittened, hands
were tied to the collar. Then I was made to stand on the floor where I
got a most unpleasant surprise. As I tried to stand flatfooted on the
floor, I found that trying to do so caused me great pain in my claves
and in my feet. The only way to reduce the pain was to stand on the tips
of my toes and I suddenly understood that they had shortened my tendons
and that I would now have to wear very high-heels in order to walk. To
that end Mistress produced a pair of impossibly small, black leather
Oxfords with seven-inch stilettos. Very, very thin stilettos. Again I
had no choice and soon I stood swaying insecurely in the very small,
very high heels and Mistress secured a leash to the tip of my chastity
device. 

Then, with only a short goodbye to the doctor, she yanked my leash and
led me out of the clinic. This proved to be very difficult for me as I
tried adjusting to the new shoes and to my new tits, swinging freely on
my chest, making me loose my balance. I not so much walked as waddled
behind Mistress on the way out of the clinic and into her car. On the
way I caught a glimpse of myself in a large window and saw the changes
to my body. The only resemblance I had to a boy now was my imprisoned
member. Everything else looked feminine: my skin was soft and smooth,
what little in way of angles my face had had was now soft and feminine.
Even my hair was now a cute black pageboy. Of course we stopped on the
sidewalk so that Mistress could greet some old friends and they could
prod and feel me up. And here I got the final nasty surprise of the day
when one of Mistress' acquaintances asked: "What's her name?" Mistress
replied: "I've decided that her name from now on is Sylvia." I started
at this, but a hard slap from Mistress halted my small rebellion.
Sylvia? She was going to call me Sylvia? For some reason the loss of my
name struck me very hard and I once again started crying, sparking a
shower of derisive remarks from Mistress and her friends. 

I was still sobbing when Mistress pushed me into the backseat of her car
and drove me back to her house. 

At the house we were once again met by Diane at the door. The outfit she
had worn the first time I saw her must have been a disguise so as not to
alarm me, because now her outfit was much sexier and much more
revealing. On her feet were black Oxfords with seven-inch stilettos,
impossibly thin. Her dress was made of black satin and it was so short
that when she turned around I had a clear view of her black, satin
panties. Her uniform dress was equipped with a small, purely decorative
white apron and on her blonde hair a small white maids hat was perched.
Diane wore no restrains of any kind, but then again it was perfectly
clear that she had been broken and would never again rebel against her
master or mistress. She was ready to be sold and she knew it. 

Once inside Mistress gave Diane my leash and told her to lead me into
the basement and prepare me for my first lessons. Then she went upstairs
while Diane led me to the elevator. Inside the elevator Diane spoke to
me in hurried tones: "Please... I'm sorry, but I had no choice. Escape is
impossible from this place and Mistress is so hard." She faltered a
little before continuing: "It will be much easier if you obey from the
beginning. Just submit. It's much less painful. Please. I'm so sorry."
Se trailed off here as the elevator came to a halt and she led me into
the dungeon. She escorted my to a large open area in the dungeon and
instructed me to stand still until Mistress arrived. Then she herself
took up position along the wall; feet together, back straight, chest
out, hands behind her back, head down and with her mouth slightly open.
I would soon learn that this was the standard position for a
sissy-slave. We waited like that for a couple of minutes before Mistress
arrived. Just seeing her almost made me aroused. She had changed into a
full-body, red leather suit with knee-high, black stiletto boots. Her
hair was still drawn back into a tight bun and in her right hand she
held a riding crop, slapping it against her boot as she walked. She now
looked every bit the dominant and I felt how my knees went weak with a
combination of submissive lust and sheer hopelessness. There could be no
escape from this woman; that was perfectly clear to me. 

With that my training began. The first day it was learning how to walk
properly: elegantly and sexy, my ass swaying in the most enticing
manner. Whenever I didn't perform as well as she wanted me to, she would
use the whip and by the end of the day most of my body had marks from
the crop. Dominating me obviously turned Mistress on and several times
during the day both Diane and I had to service her orally and not just
her pussy. The worst punishment that day, one that reduced me to a
pleading, babbling wreck, came when I hesitated in licking her asshole
clean, a most disgusting task. This of course meant that I had to
perform this duty for the next several days before I was again allowed
to lick Mistress' pussy. 

Training filled my entire universe for the next several weeks. Or at
least I think it took several weeks, because I quickly lost all sense of
time. I was kept in the basement and all I did was train to be perfect
little sissy-slave: walking correctly, behaving correctly, proper
feminine gestures and speaking, proper slave behavior. A lot of it
focused on me accepting and embracing the fact that I was no longer Tom,
the independent young man, but Sylvia, the docile and obedient little
sissy-slave. This was not only accomplished by training, but also by a
program of conditioning, or at least that is what I think it was. Every
night I would be equipped with a diaper, sat down in a chair and bound
to it before Mistress put earphones over my ears and a set of virtual
reality glass over my eyes. I have no idea what I was subjected to
sitting like that, but when the glasses and the earphones were removed I
would be dazed and confused for several minutes and Diane would have to
change my diaper, because I had invariably soiled myself. Somehow
whatever images and sound were played to me made me loose control over
my bowels. It was most humiliating and I had no real idea what went on,
except that I could feel my, already very limited, resistance fading and
I could feel how I more and more accepted that I was Sylvia and not Tom.
When the initial training was over after those weeks in the basement, I
thought of myself as Sylvia and I was well on my way to becoming just
like Diane, docile and obedient. I had effectively been broken. 

But the breaking wasn't the whole story. I had also begun actively
enjoying my status as a slave and one thing in particular provided me
with great pleasure: worshipping Mistress. Licking her boots or her ass,
although surely disgusting in itself had begun giving me great pleasure
and I reveled in it, because so far Mistress had been right: there were
no other pleasures in my life. It was hard work. The workload only
increased when I was allowed out of the dungeon. Now that I was almost
completely feminine, the only remotely masculine thing left to me being
my severely chastised penis, I was cast into the same role as Diane,
that of the slave maid. And like Diane I was outfitted with a uniform,
only this uniform was even sexier and more provocative than Diane's.
First Mistress shoved a large, pink butt-plug up my ass, most
humiliating, but also very nice. I was beginning to take pleasure
wherever I could get it, in the little things, and having my ass packed
was one thing I surely enjoyed. My sex training, apart from licking
Mistress' pussy, had not yet started, but already I was looking forward
to the day when some stud would hopefully fuck my ass, only hard, really
hard. Being denied an orgasm for so long, I had reached a state of
almost perpetual horniness. At the same time I was beginning to loose
hope that my cock would ever be allowed out of its dreadful prison and
my mind had started to turn towards other options, the principal one
being the prospect of having a big, hard cock rammed up my ass. Once my
butt-plug as in place, my chastity tube would be pulled back between my
legs, a wire attached to its tip, and the wire would be secured to a
very thin leather strap around my waist. My crotch was now almost
completely smooth and completing this was accomplished by a pair of
tiny, pink rubber panties, compressing my genitals almost unbearably. It
was most painful, but one of the things I had earned early in my
training was to smile and say "thank you" no matter what Mistress did to
me. The alternative was invariably more painful; electric shocks to my
tits and to my balls being just two examples. After the panties came my
stocking: pink rubber stocking ending mid-thigh and thus leaving a large
patch of bare, uncompressed skin free below the hem of my tiny maid's
uniform, which was also made from skin-tight, pink rubber. The uniform
had short sleeves and a very large cutout for my ample cleavage. I wore
no bra so my hug tits swung almost freely. "Almost", because the uniform
was so tight it provided some measure of support as it compressed my
boobs. Under the uniform, around my waist I was fitted with a very
constrictive corset, compressing my already narrow waist down to about
sixteen inches. On my hands were black, rubber opera gloves extending to
just above my elbows and around my neck I wore a broad, black leather
collar, which together with the big, black ball-gag in my mouth
definitively marked me as slave. My wrists and ankles were shackled with
shiny, steel cuffs and connected by short, steel chains no more than
seven inches. Finally my feet were shod with pink Oxfords with seven and
a half inch, ultra-thin stilettos. The shoes were at least two sizes too
small for my already impossibly small feet and they hurt me terribly,
but after a week of training and punishment my style of walking was
perfect: sexy and provocative and I smiled gratefully at Mistress every
time I put them on. Strangely my smile was not false. Although the shoes
were the single most painful and difficult element in my entire
(although very limited) wardrobe I loved them dearly. I loved them for
two reasons: Firstly because they signaled my helplessness and
submission to Mistress and secondly, and most importantly, because I had
discovered yet another disturbing thing about myself. As a man I had
greatly enjoyed, as most men do I guess, the sight of a beautiful woman
wearing high heels. If the woman knew how to walk in them, the heels
invariably made her legs and ass more attractive and more elegant. Now
as a sissy I found that this liking had been greatly amplified. I loved
what they did for my looks and I loved the delicious feeling of
helplessness I got when wearing these hopelessly impractical shoes, the
feeling that the stilettos somehow controlled me, forcing me to be more
perfect as a sissy-slave. When passing a reflecting surface I would
always sneak a glance at my feet and legs, relishing in their elegant
but strained position. It is a feeling that has stayed with me for all
these years. The higher and thinner the heel, the more strained the
position of the foot, the better. I am a hopeless foot- and shoe
fetishist and high-heels are among my biggest turn-ons, especially if
it's me wearing the stilettos. 

Thus dressed as a proper little sissy-slut of a maid I started my real
training. The endless lessons in walking, talking and proper behavior
for a slave continued at undiminished strength, but at the same time I
had to perform my new maid duties. As if this wasn't enough Mistress now
began giving me proper sex training, for the first time bringing
outsiders in to spank me, torture me, fuck me or receive blowjobs and
handjobs. I was very shy at first, but it no longer came as a surprise
to me when I found out that I liked giving someone an orgasm, even if I
wasn't allowed to cum. I was falling very quickly into my role as a
sissy-slave and I had now come to believe, as I still do, that I was the
lowest creature on the planet and that I should be grateful for any
attention, no matter how painful or demeaning, that my betters showed
me. My only regret was the constant itch in my crotch, the ever-present
unfulfilled need that made my balls ache and filled my panties with that
most unsatisfying liquid in the world: pre-cum. How I hate pre-cum! It,
more than anything else, more than my beloved shoes or the tight
revealing and demeaning clothes I am forced to wear, signals my total
and utter submission and the complete frustration, the total lack of
sexual release, that I must endure because of what I am. I know that I
don't deserve to be allowed to cum and yet I hope for it all the time.
It fills a huge part of my universe. 

Chapter 4 
My training was now reaching full speed and I was handling the
maid's duties in the house, while at the same time spending a lot of
time with sex training. Diane, on the other hand, was clearly reaching
the end of her stay with Mistress. It was quit clear that a buyer would
soon be found for her and it seemed to fill her with a mixture of quiet
panic and resignation. She had been trained too well to rebel; yet she
disliked the idea of being sold greatly. Not that we talked about it
since speaking was strictly forbidden among the slaves. We had broken
the rule just once, but after a lengthy torture session, which among
other things involved electric shocks to our genitals for a period of
more than three hours, we had both given up ever speaking out of order
again. So she hadn't told me what she felt about her impending sale, but
from her body language it was quite clear that she dreaded it. 

When the day finally came, it was completely without the sense of drama
I had expected. I had imagined a prospective buyer inspecting Diane
closely, probing and prodding her before lengthy bargaining session.
Instead I was one day instructed to tie up Diane. I did so as per
Mistress' instructions and soon Diane stood wrapped from her ankles to
her neck in a black, rubber cocoon, a huge black ball-gag in her mouth.
As I stood back Mistress stepped up to Diane and spoke: "I have finally
found a buyer for you, slut. Sylvia will pack you inside a box now and
you will be delivered to your new owner in the morning. Goodbye slave."
Both Diane and I were shocked at the abruptness of the sale and she
began to cry as she tried to plead. But there was no mercy. Acting on
Mistress' orders I sealed the crying sissy-slave's inside a thick rubber
hood and squeezed her bound form into a wooden crate lined with foam
rubber. Mistress checked that the air holes were free and then she
nailed the lid shut. An hour later a man came and drove off with the
crate. Mistress never told me who bought Diane and I haven't seen her
since. 

The shockingly abrupt sale of Diane made me think once again of my
future as a slave. I was well on my way to becoming just as broken,
docile and submissive, as Diane had been right before she was sold, but
unlike Diane I liked what was being done to me to some extent. Still I
realized that I was reaching the point of no return and that if I wanted
a life of my own, I had better make my getaway before it was too late.
The possibility that it was already too late and that the point of no
return had been passed months ago did cross my mind, but I chose to
ignore it. 

My chance, or so I thought, came three days later when the doorbell
rang. I was in the parlor dusting and Mistress had just arrived back
from town. She stood right next to the door and I saw as she opened it,
but I couldn't see who stood on the other side. As she opened the door I
heard a man's voice speak: "Good afternoon, ma'am. We're looking for
this young man, Tom Josephson, who disappeared some months ago. I was
wondering if you had seen him?" At hearing my name my heart leapt with
hope. The police were here to rescue me! My hopes were dashed as
Mistress replied: "Sure I've seen this one, only now she's called Sylvia
and is working hard to become a little sissy-slave." The two policemen
entered the hall, looked at me and chuckled a little: "We thought so
Miss Maitresse. We just wanted to make sure that no crazed freak is
running around kidnapping young men. Sheriff Masterton is on vacation
and apparently he forgot to tell us about this one. We'll just file it
under a hit-and-run accident and tell the state police that we already
buried the remains. Sorry to have bothered you ma'am." When I realized
that they were in on it too I began to cry. My chances of escape were
approaching zero. Mistress on the other seemed to welcome the
opportunity as she said to the policemen: "No bother at all boys. Say,
how about taking a little break from all the policing to teach the
little sissy a thing or two. She's in the middle of her sex training and
she hasn't yet tried having two guys fuck her at the same time. How
about it boys?" The two policemen didn't think about it for more than
two seconds and soon I was standing in the elevator being felt up by the
two policemen as they laughed at my tears. Both obviously thought it
very funny that I had thought they were there to rescue me. In the
dungeon they soon had me on my knees. On all fours, unbound and ungagged
they started by using a nightstick to probe my ass - only deep, very
deep. The anal intrusion turned me on as always and pretty soon I was
begging them to fuck me, crying for some cock in my ass. The cold, hard
and unforgiving nightstick made me lust for intrusions that were even
bigger and I soon even begged them to fist me. Mistress was delighted
and soon I was blowing one policeman while the other had his whole hand
up my ass. This went on for hours until I was utterly spent and the
policemen left my in a puddle of semen on the floor. 

I have since come to suspect that the whole thing had been arranged by
Mistress to break me, because it had the effect of crushing the last
hope of escape in me. After that episode I accepted my fate and gave in,
becoming just as docile as Diane had been. A week later my chains were
removed since it was now quite clear that I wouldn't try to escape. The
removal of my chains and gag made me cry because I knew that Mistress
was right. My conditioning was complete and even approaching the door
without the permission of Mistress made me tremble with fear. 

Sex training was now stepped up a couple of notches and soon not a day
went by without a visitor. Since I loved being fucked up the ass, I soon
became quite good at pleasing men with it, moving it just so, squeezing
the cock just right and eventually milking the cock from every drop of
cum. I gained a reputation and a very large portion of the male
population of Mastersville came by to fuck my ass. Since I also liked
giving head my training progressed quickly and soon emphasis was given
to the more specialized ways of providing pleasure to a man: using my
massive boobs in various ways, handjobs of every description, handling
more than two men at a time and even using my feet to make a man cum.
After a month or so I was ready for the finishing touches. 

Mistress thought that the best way for me to learn the final touches
would be for me to act as a slave for someone on a semi-permanent basis.
To that end I was first sent to the Meister's house. Here Mr. Meister
and his son Jason used me mercilessly. There was no Mrs. Meister so I
had to take care of the house while at the same time proving service to
the two men. The slave boy I had seen earlier had been sold and Meister
had not yet acquired a new one. This meant that I had their undivided
attention. Night and day I was taken by them, and after every fucking
they would tell me what to improve on. Jason was especially active and I
must admit that my heart leapt every time he touched me. His father was
good, but Jason was an expert. I had no doubt that he had already
surpassed his old man, both as a master and as a lover. I trembled with
delight when I think of his cock moving expertly in my ass as I pleaded
and begged for release, pleaded and begged to belong to him. 

Every morning I rose hours before them, got myself ready for the day,
cooked breakfast and woke them up ever so gently. On the fourth morning
I woke Jason up with a gentle cock sucking, greedily drinking first his
morning urine and then his cum. When I had sucked the last of his cum
out I begged him to buy me. I could imagine nothing better than to be
owned by him. Jason just laughed and slapped my face: "Stupid bitch. To
even imagine that you have any say in that matter is an insult. Now both
Mistress Maitresse and I will have to punish you." I knew that I would
be punished for my presumptuousness, but I thought that I might impress
him with my devotion; so every morning for the rest of my stay I
repeated the same plea. All I got for it was severe punishment and my
heart broken. As Mistress led me back to be punished even harder I was
in constant pain from all the beatings Jason had given me and my heart
was broken that this cruel man wouldn't have me. 

After a full day of severe punishment I had learned my lesson. Never
again would I presume to ask anything for myself. I was a slave and
should be grateful for whatever was done to me. 

Next I was placed at Sheriff Masterton's house. Although I did not fall
for anyone in that household, I liked it quite a bit. Apart from the
sheriff, who always had time for a good hard fucking no matter what he
was doing, there was also his wife, Theresa. In spite of what one might
think, she didn't seem the least bit jealous of all the attention I was
getting. She got more than her fair share of attention and she loved to
play with me. Her ideas of what constituted play were quite broad:
fisting me, torturing me, making me grovel, dressing me up in ridiculous
costumes and making me do all manner of demeaning things. Once she
stripped me naked except for my chastity device, my corset and my high
heels and made me stand on all fours. Then she tied my legs so that my
calves were fused with my thighs and my forearms with my upper arms,
making me walk on my knees and elbows. Then she collared me, gagged me,
attached a leash to the collar and led me out the door. She made me walk
all the way into town on my knees and elbows. Along the way we met one
of her friends who was out walking her dog. The dog was a huge
Rottweiler and from the second we stopped he had his eyes on me. Soon he
was sniffing me and in less than a minute he was trying to mount me. I
squealed with terror and tried to hide behind Mistress Theresa. The two
ladies laughed a little, talked a little and then Mistress Theresa
ordered me to stand still: "Now you had better be good, you useless
little bitch! Brutus hasn't had a fuck in a while so he is needy. And
you are after all nothing but a slave." Trembling with fear I stood
still as Brutus mounted me from behind. To my surprise Brutus was
actually gentle of sorts. He scratched me a little, but his cock was not
very big and my ass was used to the attention. It wasn't very long
before he shot his load up my ass. Humiliating me intensely, both the
ladies laughed as Brutus semen leaked out of my ass. But the humiliation
didn't end there. The ladies accompanied each other into town and when
they went into a store I was tied outside together with Brutus. I felt
like I was going to die from the humiliation as he took me three times
more that day while we were standing outside different stores, people
laughing and pointing at us. My head was bowed in shame as Mistress
Theresa led me home, Brutus walking beside me as if I was his property.
At the Masterton's house Mistress Theresa made everyone laugh as she
told my story at the dinner table and eventually they made me get down
on my knees and bark like a dog, just to shown them what I was. 

The Masterton's had twin boys still living at home, even though they
were old enough to attend college. The twins required a great deal of
attention since they were horny almost constantly. They would fuck me in
the morning, come home for a midday fuck, and fuck me mercilessly after
school. In the evening my services were required regularly and during
the night I slept at the foot of their bed so I could be at hand to
relieve the pressure. Not that they didn't have girlfriends. They did,
but the two girls just came over to join the fun. After less than a week
I was exhausted from their constant need. On top of all the people
requiring my sexual services, I had to take care of the house and soon I
was getting no more than an hour or so of sleep in order to keep up.
Still the constant sexual attention turned me on and perversely made me
feel special. I was now fully trained and conditioned as a slave and I
now relished in my role as a sissy-slave. 

After a few weeks at the Masterton's house I was due back at Mistress'
house, but the twins had something special in mind for me, sort of as a
going-away gift. One evening they tied my hands behind my back, gagged
me and threw in the trunk of their car, naked except for my bindings, my
stilettos, my corset and my collar. After a short drive the trunk was
opened and strong arms lifted me out. I was slung over the shoulder of
one of the twins and carried into a locker room. Inside the locker room
the entire college football team was waiting for me. I knew that the
twins had made the team from the talk at the dinner table, but I hadn't
thought much about it. I did now as the twins undid my hands and
ungagged me and ordered me to get started. That night all the players
fucked me at least twice each. Several times during the night I had a
cock in my mouth, a cock in my ass and was giving handjobs with both
hands. When it was over I as more dead than alive and with cum leaking
from all my openings and smeared all over my body, the twins simply
wrapped me up in a tarp and threw me in the trunk before driving me
back. 

When they led me back to Mistress the next day I could barely walk. I
was so sore from the fucking I thought I would never again be able to
close my ass. Mistress wasn't the least bit angry with the twins for
abusing me so badly. Rather she laughed out loud when they described the
orgy to her and praised them for their ingenuity. 

After they had left she turned to me: "Well slave, I guess you are ready
to be sold." I had known that the day would be coming, but still I
wasn't prepared and I began crying. I had come to like my existence as
Mistress' slave, even though she had done terrible and irreversible
things to me. The woman had robbed me of my future and I knew that I
should hate her, but her conditioning combined with my natural
submissiveness had made me love it. I was a slave now and there was no
way around it. And since she was the one who had made me into what I was
now, I felt very attached to her. Who knew who would buy me? Mistress
saw all this in my face and laughed: "I knew that you would love it. You
are just a natural born slave." I accepted her assessment and meekly
followed her inside as she continued: "I have found a buyer for you. He
will take possession of you soon. But don't worry. I won't be far away:
he's a local boy." As she said this, my heart skipped a beat from pure
joy. I was sure that it must be Jason who had bought me. Mistress didn't
tell me who my new owner was and it would be a few days before I found
out. She had decided that the gangbanging I had received from the
football team had been brutal enough to warrant a break for me. After
all it was bad form to deliver damaged goods to the customers. So for
the next few days I was hardly used at all. Instead I spent most of my
time cleaning the house and worrying about who my new owner would be. I
hoped intensely that it would be Jason, but I feared that it would turn
out to be a cruel and disgusting old man, like Mr. Houseman, who would
just turn me into a human toilet. The thought made me weak with fear and
revulsion. 

Finally the day when I would be delivered to my new owner arrived.
Mistress made sure that I looked good. I wore only the bare minimum
slave attire: my chastity tube, black, leather Oxfords with ultra-thin
metal eight-inch stilettos, a black, leather corset with steel supports
constricting my waist down to fifteen inches and a broad, black leather
collar encircled my neck. She sealed my hands inside black, rubber
mittens and tied them in a back prayer, securing them to the back of my
collar and in my mouth she inserted a monster of a ring-gag, which I was
sure would dislocate my jaw. Then she put steel cuffs on my ankles and
connected them with a steel chain no more than five inches long. Finally
she produced a sign she attached to my collar, hanging down my front and
resting on my massive tits. Before hanging it from my collar she showed
it to me. It read: "Property of Master Sakamoto, Whiplash Terrace #8.
Please abuse the bitch before letting her go." I cried when I realized
that my owner wasn't Jason after all, but Mistress would have none of
it. Slapping my face hard she said to me: "Useless bitch! You are
property, nothing more. You have no right to question who your owner
is." Leading me towards the door she continued: "Master Sakamoto lives
on the other side of town. You will walk down Main Street and turn right
up Fern Hill. Then it's straight ahead for about a mile before you have
to turn left onto Whiplash Terrace. Number eight is the last house on
the road. On your way now." She opened the door and pushed me out as I
realized that I would have to walk all the way to my new owner! It was
several miles! Not only was my outfit intensely provocative and
humiliating, but also my footwear and the chain connecting my ankles
meant that I would only be able to take the tiniest of steps. The trip
would take hours, maybe even a whole day! I turned around to plead with
Mistress, but she had already closed the door. 

Despair gripped me. In theory I could use this chance to try and escape,
but I knew that that was just a dream. The whole town was in on the
slavery thing and I had no doubt that Mistress had fitted me with a
tracking device. I had no choice but to obey. Just getting down from the
steps leading up to Mistress' door proved a formidable challenge, but
finally I made my way ever so slowly down her driveway, mincing along in
my eight-inch heels, taking tiny steps because of the chain. I had just
reached the end of the driveway and was about to take my first step onto
the road leading into town when the first car stopped. The man inside
wasted no time and in seconds I was on my knees while he fucked my face.
When he had shot his load he just left me standing on my knees and drove
off. Getting up was nearly impossible and it felt like it took more than
an hour before I got up. I hadn't even taken fifty steps before the next
car stopped. Inside were two college students, a boy and a girl. They
took turns fisting me while the other used my mouth and they two left me
on my knees as they drove off. As the car disappeared I began to cry as
I realized how long it would take for me to make it across town to
Master Sakamoto. 

Mistress' house lay a mile outside town. She had shoved me out her door
early in the morning, about seven o'clock, but by the time I reached the
outskirts of town it was already noon. Seven more cars had pulled up to
abuse me and already I was beginning to get sore. The only positive
thing was that I was now getting the hang of getting up with my feet
chained together. Once I entered town and set foot on Main Street, my
pace slowed to almost zero. Everyone I met wanted to do something to me,
and not everybody wanted to fuck me. Some just wanted to torture me, and
gradually my body was covered in welts and bruises. Others used me as a
container for their piss and soon I was filling up with all the semen
and urine I had swallowed. At many stores I was pulled inside to provide
service to the customers and at every bar or restaurant I passed I was
pulled inside and gangbanged. By late afternoon I had barely reached a
quarter of the way down Main Street and I was beginning to realize that
it would be a matter days and not hours before I reached Master
Sakamoto's house. When night fell I was dragged inside a large sports
bar. The owner heard my needy cries and allowed me to piss in a large
bottle before handing me over to his customers. I spent the whole night
in that bar getting fucked or tortured the whole time. By now my body
was a mass of bruises and all my orifices were so tender I felt like
screaming whenever someone touched them. The bar closed at dawn and the
owner finally released me. 

I was ready to collapse from exhaustion, but I knew that I had to get as
far as I could before people began to fill the street. For the first few
hours I made good progress, my only "customers" being the mailman and
the milkman. It was also good not to be fucked quite so much and I was
getting my hopes up for actually making it out of town when the morning
rush hour started. This again stopped my progress completely for two
hours as people filled the streets, everyone wanting a piece of the
action. By eleven o'clock I began to make progress again and had reached
halfway down Main Stress when lunchtime began to get underway. Again my
progress was halted as I spent the hours around lunch on my knees in the
same place. 

When I was finally allowed to fight my way back to my knees I was ready
to drop from exhaustion. I had had nothing to eat since leaving
Mistress' house, but I wasn't really hungry. Rather I felt like I was
about to burst from all the liquid inside me. It felt like I had drunk
gallons of cum and piss. This also meant that I desperately needed to
take a leak myself. This was impossible right here in the center of town
so I tried once again to get on my way. As late afternoon approached and
I had only moved a few blocks away from the center of town, I could hold
my bladder no more. I had to pee, so I sought out a couple of garbage
cans stationed between two buildings. Thinking no one would see, I stood
next to the garbage can and let go. As the stream of piss exploded from
my bladder, causing me some pain because my cock was so compressed by
the chastity tube, I almost cried from relief. I was so absorbed by the
relief that I didn't notice a police car pulling up beside the curb. As
the last drops of urine flushed out of me and I turned to walk on, I was
met by Sheriff Masterton. He had a very stern look on his face and the
first thing he did was to slap me so hard that I fell down: "Filthy,
little shit!" he shouted, "Pissing in the street is fucking filthy. I'll
have to punish you!" I tried gurgling apologies, but soon I was sitting
in the back seat of his police cruiser. As the car left the curb I
suddenly realized was my punishment would be and began to beg and cry.
The sheriff just laughed and said that I had deserved it. He drove me
all the way down to the bar I had left early in the morning before
stopping the car. Then he pulled me out, fucked my ass while I lay
across the hood of the car and left me. Realizing that I had just wasted
a whole day made me break down and cry. Not that I was allowed to cry
for long. Minutes later I was again on my knees, licking pussy on some
woman. Luckily I wasn't dragged into the same bar and actually managed
to get a full block before night fell and I was again pulled into a
crowded bar. Once again I spent the whole night there before being
released in the morning. 

By now I was so exhausted that I collapsed on the pavement outside the
bar. I slept there most of the morning, occasionally waking up as
someone demanded my services. Around noon I got on my feet again only to
be stopped by the crowds at lunch. Making slow progress I passed the
garbage cans I had pissed next to, late in the evening. Miraculously I
wasn't pulled into a bar that night and actually almost managed to get
almost the whole way out of town before collapsing in dreamless sleep. 

On the morning of the fourth day I got up to walk out of the town center
and on to Fern Hill. By midday I was making good progress and I could
actually see Whiplash Terrace when I got the final nasty surprise of my
journey. A school buss pulled up beside me and as the college football
team began coming out of the buss with big grins on their faces, I
screamed and actually tried to run. This was of course not only futile,
but probably spurred them on. The football team abused until the sun
went down and when they were all done fucking me, they formed a circle
around me and pissed on me, drenching me completely with their urine. 

It was the middle of the night when they left me and I was so exhausted
that it took me hours to get on my feet again. Finally, as first light
broke on the fifth day, I reached Master Sakamoto's house. As the sun
rose I slowly made my way up to the front door and managed to ring the
doorbell. To my surprise it was Master Sakamoto himself who opened the
door. In spite of the name Master Sakamoto didn't look very Japanese.
His features were only slightly Asian. But he was very big and looked
very muscular. Not that I noticed this on this morning. I had almost
reached the end of my endurance and barely managed to drop to my knees
to kiss him shoes. My body was one big mass of bruises and welts and cum
was leaking out of both my ass and mouth. The football team had washed
away most of the cum on my body, but now I stank of stale piss, my whole
body being drenched in it. Not wanting such a filthy slave inside his
house, he ordered me to crawl after him to the garage. Here he used a
garden hose with ice-cold water to wash me both inside and out. Normally
I would have thought it a punishment to be flushed out like that, but on
this morning I thought it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for
me. The cold water not only washed the disgusting urine away, but the
cold also numbed my body, soothing the aches. I cried with gratitude and
tried to communicate this to my new owner. Master didn't care, however.
Without speaking, he slung me over his shoulder and carried me into his
house, dripping and wet. He could easily have made me walk or crawl, but
I took this as a good sign and continued crying with gratitude. Master
carried into his dungeon where he released my hands. The pain was
immense as full circulation was finally restored. Master left all my
other bindings as he threw a blanket over me and said: "Sleep slave.
Tomorrow I will inform you of your new life." Again I cried with
gratitude as sleep claimed me. 

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 || Email Author: 2nn

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