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Open on Literotica

Eve Quest Pt. 02

Chapter 6

I tossed and turned all night sleeping for short periods, but afraid I would oversleep or that the clock wouldn’t go off. About 4:30 I got up. I reasoned I’d need some extra time anyway so I got started. I sat on the toilet thinking about my douche. Somehow a douche seemed so much more acceptable than an enema. I tossed my gown on the bed and filled the bag with a smile. Once I had the bag full, the system purged and the bulbs in place, I pranced around the room holding the bag above my head. I liked having the pumps hanging down from my body and slapping my bare legs. My playtime over I assumed the position and accepted the first load. At the proper time I dumped it and took the second one. Putting a tampon in my pussy was always a kick. That morning it seamed even more special.

The bath was luxurious. I added bath oil to the bubbles and soaked before running a razor over my body. My nails were fine. I smoothed lotion over my entire body and powdered my genitals. Jenny was right I needed to lose some weight. It was a real struggle to get the corset on. It included full cups and adjustable straps, so my cute new breasts were held firmly in place. The panties were layer on layer of lace with a lot of spandex in their body.

I sat at my vanity, pulled on my stockings and attached them to the corset with white lace garters. My heels were single banded sandals with a strip of leather connecting the heel to the ankle strap. The leather strip had a built in “D” ring. The ankle strap was held closed with one of the small silver locks. As I stood I almost swooned. It’s such a charge to be on heels, especially 4” heels. Then I noticed the time. It was 5:46 and I needed to get moving.

The crinolines were in a set, five layers to a set. The French maids outfit had a scoop neck and a very short skirt. Over the crinolines it covered nothing. My garters, ruffled panties and lacy stocking top were visible. The apron was shorter than my skirt, but the bodice and straps were layers of ruffles and improved on the stark cut of the dress. I did the best I could with my makeup and wig then clipped the cap onto my hair. From the head down the gal in my full length mirrors was hot. Every guy on the planet would want to get into those ruffled panties. Unfortunately, there was no time to prance around. It was 6:04.

I had two places set at the table in the sunroom; hot tea prepared and toasted bagels ready when I heard the patter of bare footsteps down the hall. I had even set some fresh flowers on the table. I was beaming with pride. The breakfast was served; I was a vision in pink, and I had four minutes to spare.

Jenny was naked, her hair disheveled and she was rubbing her eyes as she entered the dinning room. She said, “Toilet.” Then she turned and headed for the bathroom.

I’d been primping for an hour and a half and she hadn’t even looked my way. She was going to make me do that disgusting job before Mistress Sheila even got to see me. Up the stairs and down the hall, I got my sheet out and lay down. Jenny flopped her lovely pussy on to my mouth and started without so much as a fair thee well. With my tummy full I licked her a couple of times, but she was unmoved. She stood and left without a word.

I fixed my makeup and hair, brushed my teeth and hustled back to the sunroom.

“Hello, Sissy.” Sheila said.

I knelt between the two of them, eyes down. “Good morning.”

“Did you enjoy your breakfast?” Sheila asked.

Breakfast? I thought, but I’d learned my lesson about questions. Instead I said. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Jenny she prepared it.”

I finally tumbled to the deal. “Thank you, Miss Jenny.”

After I’d cleared the breakfast dishes and loaded the washer I knelt before Sheila in the sunroom. She said. “Jenny is waiting in the living room. She’ll go over your household duties.” She held a steak knife loosely in her right hand. I didn’t remember setting it out, but her manner didn’t seem menacing.

“This whole operation was mostly about taking your money, but there’s a potential here for you to find happiness. Make no mistake, every time you fuck up I’m going to discipline you and I’m going to enjoy hurting you.” With that she placed the point of the knife on my left inner thigh, just above my stocking top. She pressed it to the point of pain and a trickle of blood.

“Yes, Mistress.” I said, eyes down, jaw clinched.

“Get out of here.”

Jenny had a day-by-day list of duties most of which were domestic in nature. I would be doing laundry, cleaning, polishing and vacuuming. I’d be responsible for breakfast and dinner every day. On weekends and holidays I’d serve lunch.

“At this point we don’t want you to go outside, but that day will come. We’ll also do the shopping until you are more passable as a girl.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“I hope Sheila made it clear that our policy with you is no toleration. You make a mistake we’re going to hurt you.”

I rubbed my inner thigh, but she didn’t seem to find the event significant.

“We’ll enjoy taking our sadistic tendencies out on you. Of course, if you have little masochistic urges then all you have to do is fuck up.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

We went through every room in the house except the master suite and she covered what was expected in every area every day.

“We don’t intend to trap you. We just want the work done and we want you to learn to be an excellent maid.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Like most servants you will be expected to perform sexual favors for your master and in your case that includes toilet service.”

I nodded in compliance.

During the next couple of weeks I learned exactly what was expected of me. It had always been fun to sashay around in high heels. I found it was quite another thing to work in them for eight or ten hours. At the end of every day my feet and legs were killing me. To make things worse, the first time Jenny caught me with my seams crooked, she removed my shoes and beat the bottoms of my feet with a bamboo cane.

There were dozens of violations that drew various degrees of discipline. My first attempt at doing the laundry was a typical disaster. I hand washed several pairs of panties, but I mixed the colors. Everything ended up some color of red. I didn’t get the connection, but for the next two days they added Tabasco sauce to my second morning douche.

I had no training as a cook so it should have been no surprise when I overcooked some steak for dinner one night. They cut the steak in chunks and watched me remove my tampon and jam the pieces up my pussy. I wasn’t allowed to remove them until I retired.

Of all the outrageous tests, Jenny checked the baseboards in the den with a white glove. They didn’t pass. They didn’t even come close. I spent the afternoon in the corner, bent at the waist with my wrists attached to my shoes. They didn’t beat me, but it was the next morning before my back quit hurting.

There was something every day. It was obvious to me that a satisfactory job on my part was a pipe dream. They always found some minor infraction and delighted in punishing me. Their favorite targets were my nipples. The hormones had them puffy and sensitive. Over time, using tit clamps, they attached everything but the front bumper from a car to them.

After breakfast everyday I was given a hormone injection and four different pills. I had no idea what the pills were and wondered if they were poisoning me, but I decided they had everything I owned so what would be the point.

Each mistress used me as a toilet once a week in lieu of one of my meals. When they had visitors I was the entertainment. They would show me off then Jenny would piss in my mouth. Before they left, I would service every pussy or cock in the place.

My diet was a startling change. We used the sunroom on the backside of the house for most meals. The slanted ceiling and three outside walls were glass and the floor was a rich brown stone. There was an immaculately manicured garden surrounded by a high brick fence. I normally ate with my mistresses. The big difference was that I sat crossed-leg between them on the floor for my meals.

They had continental breakfast most mornings. If they ate meat it was in small portions. I had a delicious diet shake. They ate lunch away from home except on weekends. On Saturday and Sunday I served a half a deli sandwich with cold slaw, potato salad or a fruit cup. I had a delicious diet shake every day in my choice of flavors. Their evening meal was planned well in advance and included steaks, seafood and pasta, but the portions were tiny. I had a small salad with low-fat, low-cal dressing. Once a week I might get a small piece of chicken or fish. I was allowed a diet snack bar or a piece of fruit at 10:00 and 3:00. I kept fresh veggies cut in the refrigerator for all our use. My choice of beverage was water or water and I could have all I wanted as long as I wanted at least a gallon every day. They even had a bottled water chiller installed in my bedroom.

Sheila and Jenny jogged together most afternoons. While they jogged I changed into a two-piece yellow swimsuit for an hour or so of sunbathing. The bottom to my suit was T-backed and the top was similar to a normal back-closure brassiere. My tan lines became very obvious. When they returned home we all did aerobic exercises, which meant I had to change clothes again. My exercise outfit consisted of a white gaff, white tights, a pink short-sleeved leotard and white sneakers with pink trim.

At the end of the first two weeks the bloom was off the rose. My feet hurt. I was hungry. I needed some sleep and most of all I was isolated. I needed a friend. When I signed away my manhood I was sure I wanted to be a girl. At that point I wanted a hamburger, a beer and the television clicker.

My plain cotton gown felt extra soft and comfortable that Friday night, but I was resolved to escape at the next opportunity, perhaps the next morning.

Chapter 7

The strong resolve of the night before seemed to dissipate in light of the morning sun and the Bardex in my twat. I had to admit to myself I was a sissy, a coward and a slave. I was dressed and setting breakfast on the table when Sheila walked into the kitchen.

“Sissy, make me a Bloody Mary.”

I really wanted to say – Zap You’re a Bloody Mary, but I settled for fixing her drink. A late night no doubt, I thought. By the time I served the cocktail, Jenny had joined her and they were disposing of the morning meal. I sat the drink by Sheila and knelt between them. To my amazement they were jabbering about me.

“His Mother had to know he was wearing her clothes. He’d have stained every piece of lingerie she had.” Jenny said.

“But she never said a word to him.” Sheila said. “Or at least that’s his story.”

“Denial?” Jenny asked.

“I guess. His Dad took a more positive approach. He gave him a good talking to, sent him to a shrink and tried to fixed him up with a couple of young girls.” Sheila said.

“You can lead a horse to water.” Jenny said.

Sheila interrupted. “But you can’t change its spots.”

“You think he was born a transvestite?” Jenny asked.

“Beats me. I guess he could’ve been, but if makes any difference, I think he was abused as a kid.” Sheila said.

“Sexually?” Jenny asked.

“Yeah.” Sheila said.

“His Dad?” Jenny asked.

“More likely an Uncle or a neighbor. By the time he got to college he was wearing panties every day. He never missed a chance to suck his roommates cock.” Sheila said.

Jenny nodded along as Sheila continued with stories about my college days until they were finished with breakfast. Of the many forms of humiliation I was experiencing, having intimate details of my life discussed in front me might have been the cruelest.

Sheila turned to me and said. “When you’re finished with the dishes, there’ll be an outfit on your bed. Comb your hair, don’t wear a wig and wash off your makeup. We’ll be ready to leave in thirty minutes so get moving.”

My outfit consisted of a gaff, white pantyhose, pink short shorts and a short pink open-mesh tee shirt that didn’t hide a thing including my belly. Tit clamps connected by a heavy chrome chain lay on top of the outfit. I assumed the white leather collar; white bracelets and white heels were appropriate.

Jenny and Sheila were waiting on me in the living room. They wore halter-tops, jeans and tennis shoes. They looked great. I looked like a shameless, transvestite slave and that status was accentuated when Jenny attached a leash to my collar. We were going outside and I had nowhere to hide.

The cowgirl outfit had been one thing and not a very good thing, but this outfit was way over the top. You could see my bare tits for Christ’s sake. I’d been to Bourbon St. and Frisco. I’d see transvestites and public bondage, but in those circumstances the people seemed more like entertainers than freaks. In this outfit I’d engender disgust and loathing on the part of the observer. I fell to my knees and said. “Please.”

Sheila didn’t hesitate. “Rug.”

I did as instructed.

After a few moments Sheila said. “Up on your knees.”

Using two short chains she attached my bracelets to the “D” rings on my shoes. She held my tee shirt up, increased the pressure of my tit clamps then scared me to death. She clipped a wire to the chain between my tits. She unzipped my shorts and pulled them down to my knees followed by my hose and gaff.

“I’m going to help you bend forward so you don’t hurt your face.” Sheila said.

My dick was hard as a rock and there was a pronounced tremble in my voice. “Thank you, Mistress.”

My face and upper chest were on the rug. My ass was in the air. Sheila pulled the wire from my tits back between my legs. She removed my tampon and pushed a cold cylinder into my pussy. I couldn’t see it, but the cylinder had a wire coming out of it and both wires terminated in plugs. I heard the plugs being pushed into receptacles on the wall and I heard the front door open. I didn’t see Sheila signal Jenny to push the doorbell.

My body snapped hard. The electricity ripped a path through me causing me to thrash around in pain. Inside I was screaming, but the sound didn’t come out until Jenny let up on the button.

Sheila slapped my ass with her open hand then asked. “On what basis do you think you have the right to refuse me anything?”

“Nothing, Mistress. I’ll do anything you ask.”

She signaled Jenny. I was on my side jerking spasmodically against my chains unable to escape. My shrieks came in waves.

The electricity stopped and Sheila said. “Your damn right you will. You’re anxious to go with us now aren’t you?”

“Oh yes, Ma’am.”

“You’re a fucking liar.” Shelia screamed. She accented her point by ordering a short burst on the button.

“Oh please, Mistress. I’m confused. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“The truth.”

“I’m embarrassed and afraid.” The truth was rewarded with another series of zaps.

“You have no self, so how can you be self conscious? You exist only for our pleasure and if you’re not certain we’ll take care of you then you’re in deep shit. Clear?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“We’ll take you out in any condition we please, but we will stay within the law. If you see a woman keep your eyes on her feet. Look every man in the eyes, and then stare at his crotch and lick your lips.” She pulled the cylinder, unclipped the wire to my tit clamps and said. “Get cleaned up and put in a new tampon. We are late already.”

We drove to a medical building near the hospital. They paraded me across the parking lot, up the elevator to the third floor and into a large waiting room. I was embarrassed, but I sat in a corner starring at the crotch of a man directly across from me. After an interminable wait I was shown to a dentist’s office. The doctor was very beautiful. She made no pretence about her passion for Jenny.

“Can we go to my office while Angie takes the impressions?” She asked Jenny.

Jenny didn’t answer. She just led the dentist away. Angie made x-rays of my mouth and took impressions. Sheila just sat in a chair and observed. When Jenny returned she told Sheila that everything would be ready in two weeks. I wasn’t allowed a question, but I sure had some.

Our next stop was a small strip mall near the University. Shelia and Jenny walked hand in hand looking in the shops. I trailed along behind a freak on a leash. When we were near the end of the mall they walked inside a shop, a tattoo shop. We were greeted by a short trim male with a ponytail. He was a walking billboard for his trade and sported a wide smile as he greeted my wife.

“Shelia, Jenny what a treat.” He put his arms around them both, but kissed Sheila on the mouth. Jenny stepped away and Shelia straddled one of his legs. As they embraced, she humped his leg like a dog in heat.

She whispered something in his ear and dropped to her knees. Jenny locked the front door. Sheila unzipped his leather pants and pulled them down to his knees. He wore no underwear. His legs were smooth shaven and there was an elaborate tattoo crawling up his left leg. His dick was long and slender, but the attraction was his Prince Albert. It clanked on Sheila’s teeth as she dropped his limp meat in her mouth. It didn’t stay limp long.

She slurped and bobbed running him down her throat and burying her nose in his pubic hair. I had no idea she could do such a thing, much less enjoy it so much. She moaned, rubbed his ass and played with his ball sack. He put his hands on her head and stiffened. She slapped his ass hard and took his load. He flopped out of her mouth; she walked over and gave me my second snowball.

The Tattoo man pulled up his pants, jerked Sheila away from me and kissed her again. “Thank you.”

“It’ll be your turn soon.” Sheila said with a smile. “But for the moment, we’re here on a mission.” Glancing my way she said. “The slut with your cum in her mouth is Sissy. She needs some work.”

“Great. Let’s get to work.”

Jenny led me to a sort of chair. “Take off your top and shorts. Pull down your pantyhose and gaff.”

I complied and she pushed me back into the chair.

My clothes were embarrassing. My shaved nakedness was worse. Jenny released the clamp from my right nipple and rolled the nipple between her thumb and forefinger. The pain was staggering. I would have never believed it would hurt so much. I grabbed at her hand trying to stop it, to no avail.

“That really hurts doesn’t it?” Jenny asked.

Pain sealed my lips.

Jenny attached my bracelets to the arms of the chair and ran a bungee cord from the right side of my collar behind the headrest to the left side of my collar. It effectively locked my head in place. She unlocked the ankle straps of my shoes and removed them, then pulled off my pantyhose and gaff. The chair had adjustable stirrups for my feet and Velcro strips to restrain my ankles and calves. To that point the restraints seemed non-threatening. When she buckled a leather strap across my lower chest panic set in.

Jenny put a sleep mask over my eyes before she removed the left nipple clamp and started rolling the nipple between her fingers. I jerked against my restraints and screamed. The most I accomplished was some big old crocodile tears.

I overheard Shelia say. “Yes, in 12-gage.” A few moments later she said. “This is for her navel.” There was some rustling of pages and then she said. “That’s it.” Moments later she said. “Let me show you.”

The chair flattened back and my legs were mechanically forced back and apart. Something touched me just to the right of my scrotum. I flinched, but wasn’t hurt. They touched me several times and then moved to the left side.

Tattoo man said. “Give me till 5:00.”

I heard the tumblers for the front door turn twice and the room went quiet.

Tattoo man wiped my ears with something then stabbed me. It startled me more than it hurt and I realized he was piercing my ears. He put a stud in that hole and stabbed me again. He repeated the process three times in each ear and said. “Keep very still I’m going to work on your lips.”
A machine buzzed. My lips were being pricked. They vibrated and jiggled. Again I could stand the pain, but the darkness and uncertainty filled me with tension and fear. He worked on both lips for a while and then the machine went silent.

The moment he touched my left nipple I knew what was happening. I felt some pressure and a steady increase in pain then it was over. He fiddled around a moment or two, moved around to the right side and pierced my right nipple. Next came my navel. That was simple, a clamp, some pressure and an insertion. He went back to work on my lips for a while then took a break.

When he returned he said. “Stick out your tongue”

I complied and he grabbed it with a towel or something made from cloth. There was a lot of pressure on the bottom of my tongue and it hurt. I could feel the needle tearing its way through my tongue. The process stopped and then the insert was put in place. He helped me put my tongue in my mouth. The upper ball felt like it was the size of a marble. In reality, it wasn’t much smaller. I tried to say please stop, but it came out a lot closer to piss top. It was a freaky, unwanted, uncomfortable feeling. While I was contemplating my new piercings, he moved between my legs.

There was the rubbing or cleaning next to my scrotum, a clamping pressure then a short stabbing pain. Something was pushed under my skin, but he had to manipulate it. The pushing and pulling didn’t hurt, but I was totally baffled as to the purpose of the whole procedure. If one such course of action was curious imagine my shock as he repeated the process five times to a side. I was in a fog, but I was pretty sure I had twenty new holes and twenty new studs in my body. He clamped my philtrum and punched number twenty-one. He put something in the hole and a roll of cotton under my lip. I smelled a strong odor of glue.

Tattoo man left and was gone quit a while. When I was aware he was there again, he removed the mask. “Hello, Sissy.”

My response was an unintelligible, high-pitched shot at, “Hello, Sir.”

“Don’t try to talk. That thing in your mouth is going to take some getting use to.” He said.

He rolled a tray over and stood next to the chair on my right side. I couldn’t move my head enough to see anything.

“I’m gonna to do a little work around your eyes. It won’t take long and I’m not going to hurt you, but I want you to relax and stay still.”

True to his word, he didn’t take long. He fiddled with his instrument several times and moved between my eyes. I had to assume he was applying permanent eyeliner and mascara. For my part, I couldn’t move but there was more fear than pain.

He sat the chair up, released my hands and put a sheet of paper in my right one. I held the paper up where I could see it was detailed aftercare instruction for the tattoos and piercings. “Sissy, you must follow these instructions carefully. I wouldn’t normally do this much work in a single session, but that’s what Sheila wanted. You must be especially careful with the work I did between your legs. If you get an infection from any of these piercings you could get very sick. As far as your speech is concerned, you’ll be able to speak more clearly in a couple of days.”

He removed the rest of my restraints and led me to a full-length mirror. I touched my lips. They were puffy and a light pink color. My hazel eyes were lined in black and highlighted in a soft blue-green. I tried to be careful and stick out my tongue. The tongue was swollen and the insert was very large.

Tattoo man smiled and said. “You can’t imagine how good that feels to the underside of a cock.”

I hit my tooth with the damn thing when I quickly closed my mouth. My ears contained simple silver studs. My nipples contained silver barbells with stirrups or doorknockers that pivoted freely on the barbell shafts. A silver oval plate dangled over my navel. It was engraved with a single word – Sissy. In rows along my scrotum were barbells complete with doorknockers. Of all the work the most engaging was the tiny silver stud in my upper lip. It was like a beauty mark. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

Pointing to a leather-covered table Tattoo man said. “Lay down on your stomach. Shelia wanted me to restrain you, but this won’t be too bad.” He buckled a wide belt across my back then attached each wrist to the belt. He spread my legs and restrained them to the corners of the table with Velcro strips. My tampon cord attracted his attention. He tugged on it lightly then slapped my ass. “You’re serious about this girl thing aren’t you?”

I said nothing and the buzzing began. He worked on my left shoulder and then on the small of my back alternating between the two. I’m not sure how long I was on the table, but I was very uncomfortable. My arms and shoulders and hips hurt. Still, he continued to work.

“Wow, Terry.” I heard Jenny say. She had slipped up behind me. “That looks great.”

“Your next.” Terry said.

“I might just be.” Jenny said.

“This is just the outline. I’ll add the color later.” Terry said.

“Are you just about finished?” Sheila asked.

The buzzing stopped. “I am finished if you’re satisfied.”

“It’s terrific, but now that I see it I wish you could put a tiny dick on her.” Sheila said.

“No problem.” Terry said and the buzz began again.

When he finished, he released me and I sat up on the table. Sheila and Jenny began an inspection. Jenny flicked a nipple stirrup with a fingernail.

Sheila looked at my lip and said. “That thing in her upper lip is neat. I want one.”

“Now?” Terry asked.

Sheila seemed a bit unsure, but nodded and said. “Yes.”

He put her in the chair and prepped her lip. He used a local anesthetic he hadn’t used on me. While the chemical worked he went to his desk and retrieved a stud. I dared not look at Mistress Sheila directly, but I wanted to understand the process so I used my peripheral vision.

He clamped her lip and gently held it out as he pushed a needle in from the underside or inside of her lip. It slipped in as smoothly as a twig through a marshmallow. He inserted the stud and glued the nut in place. As in my case, he put a cotton pad under the lip and it was over. My stud was a small silver disc. Hers was a diamond. The effect was mesmerizing.

Sheila continued her inspection of me by saying. “Stick out your tongue.”

I did and Jenny said. “Holy cow.”

“It’ll be some dick pleaser.” Terry said.

“Or clitty pleaser.” Jenny said.

Sheila whispered something in Terry’s ear and he said. “No shit. I gotta have some of that.”

“You will.” Sheila said then handing me my clothes she added. “Goget dressed.”

I garbled out. “Yes, Ma’am.

In the dressing room I had a chance to see the tattoos. There were two small Egyptian cartouches side by side in the small of my back just above the panty line. On my shoulder was a young woman bent at the waist as if looking at the cartouches. She had large butterfly wings, full breasts and a tiny dick. I got dressed and we went home.

On the way home Jenny told me that my only duties for the next couple of days would be aftercare. “Keep your insides clean, but you can wear your gown and rest. You don’t have to talk until that tongue heals. There’ll be no housework or sex. If you feel up to it, there are some videotapes you can watch.”

I took some prescription sedatives and made it through the night, but the next morning was rough.

Chapter 8

I didn’t mind douching, but that morning every time I moved something hurt. Jenny came in while I was on my knees and gave me my injection of hormones. I knew better than to drink on top of the sedatives, but Jenny and Sheila had left a fifth of Scotch in my room. I mixed a drink with no ice and sat in the rocker to watch a video.

As I might have expected the movies were of gay sex. I found I liked the big heavily muscled guys. I was also attracted to big balls hanging low and uncircumcised dicks. I watched long enough to finish my drink and went back to bed.

Mid-afternoon I woke again, made myself another drink and sipped at it while I soaked in the tub. After my bath I rinsed some underwear, put on a new gown, took two more pills and drifted off to sleep again. It was dark when I awoke. Sheila brought me some clear soup, crackers and a vanilla shake. She left without a word, but I was grateful for the meal.

That week was a drug induced blur. I didn’t see much of my Mistresses. I was served one liquid meal a day and I sleep. By Thursday morning I was able to speak fairly well. The small stud in my upper lip was no problem. My ears were fine. My nipples and belly button were very sensitive. The rings along my scrotum were very uncomfortable, but not sore and my tattoos were okay.

“How are we feeling?” Jenny asked early Saturday morning.

“Much better, thank you.” I said in a more or less clear soprano tone.

“You’ll have that cute little lisp from now on. It’ll make you sound even more feminine.”

I was still amazed at my feminine voice. “Thank you, Mistress.”

“I think I have just the thing to help with that tongue – Toilet.

I was crestfallen, but I knew the day had to come. I assumed the position and she released her stream. I drank it straight then began to lick her pussy. I thought the ball might fascinate her, but it didn’t. She stood and walked off.

As she was leaving she said. “I want you to return to your normal routine Monday.” Looking over her shoulder she said. “And no more booze.”

I really struggled to get through my duties Monday and Tuesday. Again the big problem was my feet and legs. I had little contact with mistresses except for meals and aerobics.

Wednesday as I was preparing for bed Jenny walked in and said. “Sheila and I won’t be home till late tomorrow night. Don’t wait up. We’ve got a friend coming over Friday night at 8:00. Wear your black outfit.”

Friday afternoon I began getting ready at 5:00. I douched, did my nails and shaved my face. I made a scented bubble bath and shaved all over. My black corset was tight, but the tight cups soothed my sore nipples. I wore fancy black hose with seams up the back and big black satin bows at the top of the seams along with my black sandals. I pulled on a black gaff and black lacy panties. My black uniform and white apron completed the outfit. I applied my makeup, donned a platinum blonde wig and a little black cap. Twirling around I felt the pain of the last couple of weeks fade away. I looked like a beautiful girl because I was a beautiful girl.

I sashayed into the kitchen and dropped to my knees.

“Sissy.” Sheila said. “How are you feeling?”

“Very nice, Mistress. Thank you.”

“Rug.” Sheila said.

Naturally I was afraid, but this time there was good news. When the doorbell rang shortly before 8:00, I wasn’t hooked up to it.

“Sissy, we need a drink.” Sheila said. I got up from the rug, walked over to her chair and knelt next to her awaiting her command.

Shelia wore a short reddish orange nightie with spaghetti straps and a bodice of see through lace. Multiple layers of chiffon fell from an Empire waist to just below her crotch. She was bare legged with four-inch platform mules.

Jenny was spectacular. A black leather collar supported a chain mail top. A black leather band at its bottom hung just below her breasts. Her micro-mini was chain mail with black leather bands top and bottom. Her entire body was dusted in a silver powder. Her clear plastic, backless sandals had four-inch steel spike heels. She was carrying a video camera.

Our guest was the young blonde male from my first night as a slave. He wore a tan short-sleeve shirt, khaki pants and open-weave leather shoes.

“What would you like, Alex?” Sheila asked.

“A beer is okay.” Alex said.

Sheila draped herself on Alex, her right hand rubbing his dick. “You don’t have to settle for okay.”

“Really, a beer is fine.”

Sheila turned her attention to Jenny. “How bout you, Jenny Darling?”

“A little Jose would be just right.”

Sheila turned to me. “Bring us a beer in the bottle and two tequila shooters.”

When I returned they were seated and talking quietly. I served the drinks and knelt beside Sheila’s chair.

Sheila popped her shooter and said. “Let’s see what you got, big boy.”

Alex stood and removed his shirt. He was several inches taller than me and built like a Michelangelo statue. His skin was smooth and tan. He slipped off his shoes, loosened his pants and pulled them down. His whole body was hairless, tan and sculptured. Did I mention his dick? It was such a beauty. Even flaccid it looked like it was a foot long. He had a small bottle of oil. He poured some in his hand and began a slow sensual application to his chest, arms and thighs.

Sheila pointed at him and said. “Get him ready.”

I assumed she meant me and sprang into action. I knelt before him, cupped his balls in my left hand and kissed them. With my right hand I started rubbing the monster’s head. I kissed and nibbled my way up the shaft. I put him in my mouth, but he jerked back.

“What’s that?”

I showed him my tongue ball and returned to my ministration. His cock was warm, almost hot, smooth and tasty. There was just no question. I loved cock.

“Get me ready.” Sheila said. She was on her back in the floor.

I dove between her legs and started licking her slippery bald slit. There was just no question. I loved pussy.

“Put him in me.” Sheila said.

Alex got between her legs. I spread her lips with two fingers of my left hand, grasped his meat in my right and guided him inside my wife. Jenny was practically on top of us with the camera.

“Can you spell cuckold?” Jenny whispered in my ear.

Sheila flipped off her shoes, locked her ankles behind his ass and impaled herself on his dong. She screamed for him to fuck her and slammed their bodies together. I don’t think a pussy is a bottomless pit, but she seemed to have no regard for her body. Her ass was off the ground and gyrating. During her first orgasm she stopped moving long enough to grab two hands full of his hair an kiss him like she wanted to crawl inside his mouth, then she was back to fucking. Their bodies glistened with oil and perspiration. She was in the midst of an orgasm when he stiffened and unloaded inside her.

“Get on your back Sissy.” Sheila said in an urgent tone.

I did so. She pushed Alex away, stood, straddled my chest and plopped her pussy down on my mouth. With my tongue inside her I started to suck. My reward came quickly. The slimy ropes of seaman practically fell out of her body. My tongue ball banged her clitty causing her to gyrate again. The taste, the smell and the heat had me creaming my panties.

When she came, she clamped my head with her legs and rolled over on her back. “Again.” She said.

Her next climax was all she could take. She pushed me away and told me to clean Alex’s dick.

I was busy with that wonderful task when she told Alex to take me to my room and fuck me. I thought I might have died and gone to heaven. Alex pulled me to my feet, and then picked me up in his arms. He was so powerful I felt like a little girl. I relaxed, put my arms around his neck and laid my head against his powerful chest.

He carried me to my room and sat me down on the bed. I told him I needed a quick stop in the bathroom. I pulled my panties and gaff off leaving my hose in place. Then I disposed of my tampon and smeared some KY on my pussy. I lay on the bed next to Alex and held my legs in the air. He needed no more encouragement. He put the head of his dick against my pussy and began to push. I grabbed him, kissed him and pushed back. Once he was in me I understood Sheila’s wild excitement. A man was inside me, moaning with pleasure. He was kissing me and fucking me. All to soon he came. Only then was I really aware of Jenny and Sheila and the camera.

“Clean him up.” Sheila said.

His dick was covered in cum and smelled of feces, although I knew I was relatively clean inside. I would’ve kissed and licked on him all night, but as he grew soft, Sheila told me to get dressed for bed. I went to the bathroom and performed my nightly ritual. When I returned to the bedroom they were gone and I fell into a peaceful rest.

Chapter 9

Saturday morning I awoke to a tender kiss from Jenny. It was the most startling event of my brief womanhood. “I’m so sorry, Miss Jenny. I didn’t hear the alarm.”

“Chill. It hasn’t gone off yet.” She said and kissed me again. I dared not reciprocate, but she was all over me. She was naked as a baby as she straddled my chest she said. “Let’s see what you can do with that ball.”

It was my first close look at her cunt. The skin on her lips was the same color and texture as her tummy and thighs. Her pubic bone protruded and her lips were fat. She had a thin strip of dark hair about one inch wide by three inches tall above her opening. My first move was a slow lick, bottom to top with the flat of my tongue. Her little knobby was easy to find. I shoved my tongue inside her and moved it around then flicked her clitty as I came out. I tried to bang her clitoris with the tongue ball by flicking it in and out. It must have had some effect she grabbed my head with both hands and sort of aimed it at her sweet spot. As my next move, I trapped her clitty between my lips and sucked. At the same time I lightly flicked it with the end of my tongue. When the skin on her back moistened I slowly pushed a finger into her rectum.

She cascaded over the top and screamed. “Shit, Sissy.” And fell limp.

I slowly licked her slit, but she was very sensitive and slid down my body. This time I returned her kiss with passion. Our lips slick with her juices, our tongues entwined.

She was looking in my eyes. “Girl, that was some first class pussy eating.”

I looked down and said. “Thank you.”

“You won’t need to put on your maid outfit this morning. Just dress in the same outfit you wore to the tattoo shop.” She looked right in my eyes, smiled and added. “Toilet.”

There was no understanding this woman. A moment ago you might have thought she was enamored with me. Now she wanted to shame me. Whatever. As soon as she moved I ran to the bathroom, got my rug and assumed the position. She dropped down on my mouth and released her warm stream. When she finished she stood and nonchalantly walked off.

I brushed my teeth and gargled before I douched. I had plenty of time, so I soaked in the tub and shaved. Clean, I put lotion on my body, made my bed and straightened my room before putting on my gaff. The mesh on little pink top allowed a clear view of my pierced nipples. I had to clip the chain over the barbells, but I left the jaws loose. The hot pants seemed to fit better. I was sure I’d lost quit a bit of weight. I was hungry all the time, but that’s one of the sacrifices a girl has to make.

After breakfast, I did the dishes while they dressed. They emerged in white Capri pants, multi-colored halter-tops and low-heel white leather thongs. Jenny connected my wrists behind my back with a two-foot chain and then attached a leash to my collar. The chain restricted my movements, but the intent was obviously to accentuate my position of subservience.

We went to the same oral surgeon’s office. This time Jenny removed my leash and checked me in. Then she and Sheila left without saying a word. There I sat. A street walker with his/her wrists chained. I thought about removing the chain, but dared not. I just found a man’s crouch to ogle and allowed the other patients to think what they might. Shortly, the nurse asked for Sissy and I struggled to my feet. They put me in a chair and started an IV. My final thought before things went blank was terror. My next recollection was pain. Something was wrong with my mouth.

“Sissy. Can you hear me?” The doctor said.

I didn’t answer, so she asked again. I tried to put my hands to my face, but I was still restrained.
“Sissy, it is Dr. Melon can you hear me?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” I managed.

“Are you okay?”

“My mouth hurts.”

“You’ll be fine. I’m going to let you sit for a moment.” She moved her tray in front of me and set a mirror on it.

I sort of drifted off again. I wondered why I needed a mirror and lost it again. My teeth had always looked bad. The girl in the mirror had a perfect set of tiny pearls. Who was she? Off I went. She was I. Searching my mouth with my tongue the fog parted and I realized my teeth were dentures. I just couldn’t stay conscious long enough to assess my condition. The doctor returned, waved something under my nose and I snapped into reality.

“Take these.” She said, handing me two pills and a cup of water. “Jenny is here for you.”

I was reasonably sure-footed, but Sheila supported me on the way to the car.

“Any questions?” Sheila asked.

I damn sure wanted to know why they’d removed my teeth, but I knew better than to ask. “No, Ma’am.”

“Good answer.” Sheila said. “Well, let me answer the question you’d like to ask. We had your teeth removed so you can suck big cocks better.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” I felt I had to say, but I was shattered by the extent to which they were modifying me.

Our next stop was the tattoo shop. Sheila walked in as if she owned the place. Terry was working on a slender teenage girl. Gold captive bead rings hung from her pert nipples and he was just finishing a yellow rose on her right breast.

Jenny was on her like a vulture. She took the young woman’s left nipple in her mouth and caressed it. Looking up at her young prey Jenny asked. “Does it hurt?”

The young woman seemed self-assured, unfazed. “Nope.”

Terry laid his tool down, wiped the breast and inspected his work. “You’re all set.” He said to the young lady.

Jenny took her hand. “Can we use your back room?”

Terry shrugged. “Sure.”

“I’m going down to the coffee shop.” Sheila said to Jenny. She unchained my hands and said. “Get your clothes off, Sissy.”

“I’ll be down in a while.” Jenny said to Sheila with a big smile.

I stripped and Terry took me to his table and laid me down, face up. He made a careful inspection of each piercing including the tongue, then turned me over. He strapped me down and started to work without a word. He was, I assumed, adding color to my tattoos. I still wasn’t totally conscious, but I was aware he stopped and started several times moving between my shoulder and back. Jenny and the teen had come out and left together sometime during the process.

Terry rubbed something on the cartouches and took a break. When he returned he began working on them, but not with the tattoo gun. It felt like he was sewing something. When he finished he left me on the table and started puttering around the shop. I couldn’t see Sheila and Jenny when they returned. They walked over to the table and inspected Terry’s work.

“Oh, my God.” Jenny said. “They’re incredible.”

Sheila touched my lower back and said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“They’re very rare.” Terry said. “I’m real pleased.”

“What about down there?” Sheila asked.

“They need a little more time.” Terry said. “You want to come by Wednesday night?”

Sheila looked at Jenny then said. “Her mouth will need some time too, maybe we better wait till next Saturday.”

“Saturday is always good for me.” Terry said.

Terry helped me up and Jenny told me to get dressed. In the dressing room I could see what everyone thought was so great. Terry had sewn silver metal thread around the outside edges of the cartouches. They were brilliant in color and three-dimensional. My little butterfly boy/girl was equally beautiful. Her wings were resplendent with all the colors of the rainbow. As I looked at my back, not only was it beautifully decorated, it was smooth and pretty. I still needed to lose some weight, but there was a definite taper from shoulders to waist to hips.

“Let’s go Sissy.” Sheila said.

Dressed, I chanced another look in the mirror. The cartouches were above my shorts. The butterfly and her tiny dick were visible through my mesh top as were my nipple piercings. My “Sissy” medallion dangled seductively over my navel. Pain or not, my smile could stop traffic.

Once home Jenny took me to my room.

“Here are the aftercare instructions for your mouth. We want you to do all your normal activities, but you will have some discomfort.” She held up a small plastic baggy. “If it gets to bad step out back and smoke one of these. I promise you wouldn’t care if I cut one of your heads off.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

Chapter 10

When my clock went off Wednesday morning Jenny was sitting naked in my rocker. Her legs were drawn up against her chest, her fat little cunt looking straight at me.

“Good morning.” She said with a smile.

I scrambled to my knees at her side. “Good morning, Miss Jenny.”

“You’re getting cuter every day.”

“Thank you.”

“How are your gums?”

“The new teeth feel okay.”

She stood and pulled me to my feet. She kissed me tenderly and ran her tongue over my gums. “Do you feel any bone spurs?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“Ann Melon is the best. Whether it come to oral surgery or oral sex.”

I laughed. I didn’t know if I was allowed to laugh, but the play on words was funny and there hadn’t been a lot to laugh about lately. I fact I couldn’t remember laughing as a woman.

“Clean your pussy and we’ll shower together.” Jenny said.

She sat on the toilet and watched as I mixed the bag and put the contents in my body. She stood and gently rubbed my tummy while I waited.

“You look like your pregnant.”

“This part hurts a little.”

“Go ahead and dump it.”

While I took the second bag Jenny started the shower. We washed each other’s hair and ran soapy hands over one another’s bodies. I shaved her legs and she shaved mine. I thanked her by cupping her right breast and kissing it. I ran a hand over her soft belly, then ran it down between her legs and cupped her cunny. I was really beginning to feel like a woman, if albeit a lesbian. We dried off, applied lotion, powdered and made a mess, but I was ecstatic.

Jenny selected my yellow bikini top; a white gaff and white low-rise peddle pushers as my outfit. My shoes were white leather thongs with three-inch wedge heels. I had small breasts and my tummy wasn’t flat enough, but I was really cute.

After breakfast, Jenny said she had the day off and that she and I were going to the beauty parlor.

I was on a leash when we arrived and I wasn’t at all sure of the protocol for male sissy slaves in a beauty parlor. The women didn’t seem to care and carried on a constant chatter among them. They did ask me for a nail color and after consulting Jenny, I told them I wanted frosted pink. We had facials, manicures and pedicures while they worked on our hair.

It was dark outside when they were finished. Jenny and I were the only customers and I assumed Jenny had some special arrangement. The beautician spun my chair so I could see my new do. Surprise. Surprise. I had short platinum blonde hair with ringlets across my forehead.

“It’s a twenties style. Very in.” The beautician said.

“Thank you.” I almost added Mistress.

As we left the building Jenny asked if I liked my hair. I knew I wasn’t allowed an opinion. I also understood the question.

“It’s just like yours and it’s one of your most beautiful features, Mistress. Thank you for allowing me to have the same style.”

When we got home I was allowed to make supper without changing cloths. They had pasta primavera and wine. Sheila told me she had made me something special. It was in the black carafe in the refrigerator. I knelt by her chair and poured myself a glass of the liquid. It was yellow. I took a sip. It was piss, but it was very cold and it was hers. I enjoyed two glasses full.

After dinner I cleared the table, put the dishes in the washer and started a pot of decaf. I went to my room and sat on the bed with my knees pulled up to my chest. The day had been confusing and I was trying to sort it out. Over and over I had to admit to myself it didn’t make any difference what I thought about their actions.

Sheila walked in. “Put on your black collar and bracelets, a black garter and hose and your black heels. We’re waiting in the den.” Almost as an afterthought she said, “Leave your teeth here.”

When I arrived my mistresses were seated having coffee. I sank to my knees and awaited their pleasure.

“Hang this in the eyebolt.” Sheila said handing me a lightweight metal spreader bar about five feet long.

Someone had installed an eyebolt in the ceiling, several feet in front of one of the floor to ceiling windows. I got a two-step ladder from the kitchen and hung the spreader bar. I was about to return the ladder when Sheila told me to leave it. The two women walked over to where I was standing and I sank to my knees.

“Open your mouth.” Jenny said.

A small rubber dick protruded from the leather gag in her hand. She put the dick in my mouth and buckled the strap behind my head. She pulled me up and led me toward the spreader bar. Sheila was on the ladder. Jenny pushed my right arm up and Sheila attached my bracelet to the spreader bar. Sheila moved to the other side and they repeated the process attaching my left bracelet to the spreader bar. Jenny attached another spreader to the D-rings on my shoes, pushing my legs apart and suspending me slightly off the ground. My clitty stick, shriveled by hormones, hung limply between my legs.

Armed with long slender leather paddles they began to whip me. They worked on my butt, my piercings, my breasts, my navel, and between my legs. I bit down on the gag and cried. Once I started it was as if I had opened the floodgates. I’d never been one to cry but tears were running down my entire body. The beating was unrelenting. Each contact between the paddle and my flesh sounded like an exploding firecracker, adding an aural factor to my punishment. By stretching I could grab the spreader bar and move my body slightly, but it was to no avail. Blow after blow rained down on my slender defenseless frame until finally, it was over.

As they switched off the last light Sheila laughed and said, “Don’t worry about breakfast.”
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