Christina is pulled from the pit of sleep by Donna just after 7.00 a.m. Within seconds they are once again in each other’s arms and making a desperate, passionate love. By 8.00 a.m., Christina has been returned to her room and she shares a hot, highly erotic shower with her beautiful mistress. Once they are dried, Donna, dressed only in a very skimpy black silk dressing-gown, helps her pretty sissy slave to transform herself back into a gorgeous, utterly subservient she-male maid. And by 9.00 a.m., Christina and Donna are in the kitchen preparing breakfast, the lovely sissy tottering sweetly on her high heels, Donna, still in her dressing-gown, gently ordering her slave from task to task.
Helen and Anne come down just before 10.00 a.m. and Christina has the pleasure of serving all three, stunning women a full Sunday breakfast, her own meal of toast and a cup of black tea having been consumed earlier.
The rest of the morning is spent vacuuming, dusting and polishing. Christina performs each menial task with an enthusiasm that betrays a much deeper arousal. As she daintily minces about the house, the vision of Donna fills her every thought. The beautiful memories of her night of passion accompany every careful, elegant gesture and feminine movement. Her erect sex, now safely back in its tight rubber restrainer, struggles desperately as glowing images of Donna’s stunning naked form wash via rapid sex-hallucinations across her pretty, bedazzled eyes, hallucinations that plunge Christina back into the sex world and thus the complete sexualisation of the current reality and each task she so eagerly performs.
Her feelings for Donna are now stronger than ever. As they had made love the night before, the sissy she-male knew she was hopelessly in love. Indeed, as Donna had patiently helped her slave with her make-up earlier, Christina had again declared her helpless infatuation with Donna. Donna had smiled gently and told Christina to be quiet, but there was no doubting the depth of her own feelings and her intense attraction to the she-male beauty.
After serving lunch, Christina is called before Helen and told to go upstairs and change into one of the new outfits they had purchased at Amanda’s shop the day before.
‘I want you to go back to your flat and check if Annette has responded to your e-mail,’ she explains. ‘I’m very keen to meet her.’
Christina curtseys deeply and then minces back up to her room. Within the hour she is sitting beside Helen in her car, dressed in a very sexy and very short black cotton skirt, a black nylon sweater and a black jacket, plus her normal black nylon tights and a pair of black patent leather, very high-heeled court shoes. And it is as they are crossing the city to Christina’s flat that the she-male makes a very bold announcement.
‘I don’t want to go back to work next week, mistress. I want to stay with you, to be your maid permanently.’
Where these brave, perhaps foolish words come from, she has no idea. Helen’s initial silence fills her with dread: she has spoken out of turn and is sure to be punished!
‘I know, Chrissie,’ Helen eventually says. ‘And I understand. And I think I can make the necessary arrangements to ensure you don’t go back.’
Stunned, amazed, elated, Christina finds more brave words.
‘That would be so wonderful, mistress. Thank you! All I want to do is serve you in any way you wish – for ever.’
‘I will talk to Katherine. Now be quiet or I will have to punish you later.’
Christina obeys, wondering just exactly how Helen can talk to Katherine, her boss, about the sissy she-male not returning to her job and thus her previous identity as the lonely, bored, frustrated Chris. She again recalls the rumours concerning Katherine’s sexuality and her rather obvious interest in the lovely, regal Helen.
Unlike her previous visit to the flat, Helen insists on parking the car and accompanying her slave. Luckily, there are few people about to notice Christina, the beautiful sexy she-male, unrecognisable as Chris, and they enter the building together and travel up to his second-floor apartment. Once inside the flat, Helen orders Christina to see if Annette has responded to her previous e-mail while she carefully inspects each room.
As she logs on, Christina has no real hope that Annette can have replied so soon. Yet, to her surprise, there is a fresh message from the lovely she-male friend waiting to be read. And as Christina reads the message a smile of joy and terrible excitement lights up her pretty sissy face, for the message is as follows:
Dear Christina,
Thank you so very much for the photo! I have waited a long time and my wait has not been in vain: you are beautiful; in fact, you are incredibly beautiful! I am shocked and very, very jealous! And yes, we must meet. Your ‘mistresses’ sound a little too good to be true, but of course I’d like to meet them too. I can come and visit next weekend, if you want. I am putting my mobile number on the bottom of this message. I’ll be available most of Sunday, so why don’t you ring me? I’d love to hear from you!
Annette.
Christina looks at the mobile number and feels a nervous giddiness wash over her. Then she is aware of Helen, standing directly behind her, also reading the message.
‘I think you should ring her straight away, Christina. See if she can come down on Friday evening. Tell her she can spend the weekend with us at my house. Then we can show her how much better than the truth we are.’
Christina mumbles a nervous, ‘Yes, mistress,’ and minces over to the telephone. Her hands are shaking with fear and desire as she taps in the number of Annette’s mobile. The phone seems to ring for ever, and as each ring explodes in her ear her nervousness increases. Then, a voice, a calm, relaxed, strangely feminine voice.
‘Hello?’
Christina hesitates, the sound of her pounding heart filling her pretty sissy head.
‘Annette?’
A pause, the sound of unsure breathing?
‘Who is this, please?’
‘Annette, this is Christina.’
A shorter pause, followed by a very audible sigh of relief.
‘Christina. Oh, right. Sorry…I wasn’t expecting you to ring so soon. Well, great, thanks for getting back to me. And your picture. Yeah, thanks for that. What a surprise! You look absolutely great. Who took that photo? It looked incredibly professional.’
‘I’m glad you liked it,’ Christina nervously responds. ‘But it’s not as good as yours.’
Annette laughs. ‘That’s rubbish. God, if I’d known how good-looking you were before, I don’t know if I’d have had the guts to send you my photo.’
‘Can we meet?’
A simple question, put by Christina as Helen, who is now standing over her, gives every indication of impatience. A question whose response is another pause.
‘Sure,’ Annette says, eventually. ‘I’ve told you I’m free next week. Where are you?’
Christina tells her and Annette laughs again. She lives in a nearby city, only forty minutes away by car.
‘Well, then,’ she continues. ‘Let’s meet next weekend. I’ll drive over to you?’
Christina is relaxing now, calmed down considerably by Annette’s soft, girlish voice and laid back manner.
‘That would be really good. My mistresses are also very keen to meet you.’
Laughter follows, slightly incredulous, but still friendly.
‘Are you really serious? You’ve met three women who want you to be their maid? Sorry, Christina, but that sounds too fantastic.’
‘I know. I’m not denying that. But it’s true.’
At that precise moment, Helen grabs the phone from Christina.
‘Annette?’
Another long pause and then a nervous, ‘Yes?’
‘This is Helen, Christina’s mistress. I’m sure she’s told you all about me. If you could come down next weekend we’d be really grateful. I assure you that Christina is not exaggerating, and that you’ll find this out for yourself if you visit us.’
She then gives the phone back to Christina. ‘Get her over here next Friday evening.’
When Christina goes back onto the phone, Annette expresses amazement, yet in her voice there is a distinct tone of intense sexual excitement. At Helen’s insistence Christina gives Annette the address of the apartment block and they agree to meet at 7.00 p.m. the following Friday.
‘I want you to spend some time with Annette, to reassure her, and then bring her over to the house about 9.00 p.m.,’ Helen explains, once the phone call is over.
Christina rises from the computer and curtseys her understanding. The beautiful mistress and her lovely sissy slave then leave the flat.
* * *
For the rest of the day, she acts as maidservant to all three women, beautifully attired in her formal French maid’s uniform, serving tea, cleaning, helping to prepare dinner. The pleasure she takes in this sweet subjugation is heightened by two things: Helen’s assurance that she would arrange for Christina to stay as her slave permanently and the impending visit of Annette. Yet even as she anticipates meeting the lovely she-male, she also finds herself wondering why the three women, and particularly Helen, are so keen to meet her as well. Could it be that they intend to induct her as a sissy maid, that she and Christina are to serve Helen, Donna and Anne together? This thought, still a fantasy, fills Christina with joy.
After dinner, she is presented with a huge pile of ironing, the product of a weekend’s washing and drying. Led by Helen into a small, windowless room off the kitchen, she finds herself standing before two large plastic baskets filled with her mistresses’ clothing, an ironing board and an iron.
‘This lot should take about two to three hours,’ Helen says, her voice cut through with a cruel, yet sexy amusement.
Christina curtseys and is about to step forwards, her masochistic excitement clearly dimmed by the size of this task, when Helen places a hand on her shoulder.
‘To ensure all you do is iron, you will be hobbled and gagged.’
To Christina’s surprise, Helen then takes from a large pocket in her long black skirt a pair of black panties, a roll of masking tape and two lengths of the very strong black rubber cording. She kneels down by Christina’s high-heeled feet and tightly binds her delicately hosed ankles and knees with the rubber cording. Once the sissy’s legs have been secured, she takes up the panties and dangles them before Christina’s wide eyes.
‘I’ve had these on most of the day, Christina, so I hope you appreciate the flavour.’
Helen forces the panties deep into her slave’s more than willing mouth, quickly tears off a long strip of the tape and then spreads it firmly over Christina’s glistening, cherry-red lips.
Yet this is only the beginning of her domestic bondage. For once the gag is secured, Helen leans down once again and takes up a pair of previously unnoticed slender metal shackles from beneath the ironing board. The shackles are attached by a silver chain to a metal hoop fixed to the floor. Helen locks the shackles around Christina’s wrists.
‘There’s enough give to allow you to take clothes from the basket and place them on the board, and to manipulate the iron,’ Helen informs her now horrified slave. ‘The corset will make it virtually impossible for you to bend forwards far enough to remove the gag, but you will be able, if somewhat painfully, to squat down and take the clothing from the basket. Donna will come back at eleven to check on your progress. If you haven’t finished by then, you’ll be spanked, hog-tied and left in here for the night.’
With this delicious, teasing threat, Helen then leaves Christina hobbled, shackled, tightly panty-gagged and facing the ironing board and the two huge piles of washing.
It is only as she considers the task ahead that she notices that there is a large clothes rack directly to her left loaded with coat hangers and, beneath the rack, another large white plastic basket. It quickly becomes apparent that the lovely, tethered and gagged sissy is expected not just to iron the two huge piles of clothing, but to fold or hang them as appropriate!
Breathing heavily through flaring nostrils, she hops forwards slowly and painfully squats down to take the first item of clothing from the basket: a very sheer, semi-transparent white silk blouse that she recognises as belonging to Helen.
It takes her nearly ten minutes to iron the blouse and then hop two paces to the left to slip it over a hanger. By the time she has managed to do this, she is covered in sweat and gasping into her fat, pungent gag, the musky taste of Helen filling her stuffed mouth and, despite her discomfort, ensuring that her rubber imprisoned sex remains hard and deeply frustrated.
She labours desperately for over two hours, managing in this time to complete only one basket. And by the time the door is unlocked and Donna slips into the small cupboard-like room, poor Christina is only just beginning the second, her body soaked in sweat, her hosed legs aching terribly, tears of discomfort and desperation flooding from her pretty, girlish eyes.
‘We had a bet how far you’d get,’ Donna mocks. ‘I thought you’d have nearly finished. But perhaps I think too highly of you, Chrissie. Anne got nearest. And she, of course, was the most pessimistic.’
Christina watches in painful anticipation as Donna removes the shackles and then disconnects the iron and folds up the ironing board, creating a narrow floor space. She then orders her slave to bend over and touch her toes. After hours of deportment training, Christina can now perform this physical feat with very little effort, her body shivering with fear as her petticoats and tiny skirt are raised up her nylon-sheathed thighs to offer her tightly pantied buttocks for inspection and torment.
Donna then makes a point of walking around Christina to show her a long, thick leather strap.
‘A present from Amanda.’
Poor Christina’s tightly muffled squeals of fear and her desperately shaking head produce a sharp laugh from her gorgeous, beloved mistress.
‘Pain and pleasure, Chrissie,’ she teases. ‘That’s what it’s all about.’
Donna then disappears back behind the quivering she-male and there is a long, terrifying pause broken only by the sound of Christina’s muffled pleas for mercy. Then there is fire, a terrible, blinding fire that rips into her buttocks and floods across her sissified form. She screams uselessly into the perfumed panty-gag and the force of this first brutal cut of the strap causes her to hop desperately forwards. Then a second blow, then a third. All together, six hard, mercilessly cuts of the strap that leave huge tears of pain pouring from Christina’s eyes, squeals of outraged discomfort fighting to escape her so expertly gagged mouth and a terrible, inescapable fire eating up her shapely, sissified buttocks.
Then she is being pulled to her feet and her arms are being forced behind her back. She moans hopelessly as her wrists and elbows are then bound tightly together with more lengths of the unyielding black rubber cording.
‘Do you still love me, Chrissie?’ Donna asks, her voice filled with a strange, almost tormented excitement.
Despite her pain and the intensity of her punishment, Christina nods her head and attempts a curtsey of affirmation. Yes, she still loves Donna. In fact, as Donna forces her to kneel on the cold, concrete floor and then carefully lowers her bound form face down onto this floor, Christina loves her with an even greater power. Face down, her buttocks aflame, her body racked with the torments of the past two or so hours, she cannot help but accept that the more Donna dominates and humiliates her, the more the gorgeous, deeply masochistic she-male loves her.
Donna then uses a final length of the rubber cording to bind her tethered ankles to her trussed wrists, forcing her into such a severe hog-tie that the tips of her stiletto heels are forced painfully into the palms of her hands.
Then a pair of black-hosed legs fill Christina’s severely restricted vision. Then, a pair of black panties fall down these legs. Donna then steps out of her panties and picks them up from the floor.
‘I thought it would be nice to leave you with a little reminder of me, as you’ve got a rather long and uncomfortable night ahead.’
Donna then leans down and stretches the panties over Christina’s head in such a way that the soaked gusset is forced directly over her nose. The powerful sex-smell of Donna thus mingles with the tastes of Helen and Christina squeals with a mad, masochistic pleasure into the panty-gag, wiggling her sexy, roasted bottom and bound, hosed ankles desperately.
‘See you in the morning,’ Donna purrs, stepping out of Christina’s field of vision.
Christina moans fearfully as Donna disappears. Then she is plunged into an all too familiar yet still terrifying and absolute darkness as the light is flicked off and the door closed and locked.
Trussed, gagged, her body aching all over, the heat in her buttocks now pouring between her legs and into her rubberised sex, Christina is once again cast adrift on a sea of intense, perverse and ultimately deeply enjoyable ultra-bondage. Despite the pain and the discomfort, she struggles with a real, almost crazed pleasure in her sissy bonds and moans hungrily into her savoury gag. The smells and tastes of her mistresses fill her mind, the darkness inspires a vast array of sex hallucinations. Utterly enslaved, she is in her own glowing, erotic heaven. A heaven built on pain, pleasure and the absolute reality of unending submission to three beautiful women, one of whom she loves with a passion that grows ever more powerful as she is forced by this glorious woman to play each new game of intricate and delightful suffering.
* * *
As predicted by Donna, the night is long and hard. And by the time Helen comes to retrieve her exhausted, battered slave, it is a full eight hours later. Still in her flimsy nightgown, the lovely, plump mistress flicks on the light of the small room to find poor Christina still tied tightly in place, her gag still held firm by the thick silver masking tape. The sissy has passed in and out of consciousness, and slept for maybe an hour at most. The rest of the time she has endured cold, hard darkness and the increased numbness of her tethered body. Yet even as the sexy Helen unties her charge, Christina is helplessly aroused. Her erection has been fighting its restrainer with a warrior’s tenacity all night long and, as Helen leans down to pull Donna’s panties from her head, Christina’s bloodshot, tired eyes are filled with the heavenly image of Helen’s very large, rosy breasts barely concealed by the flimsy pink silk material of the night-dress. She moans with a fierce, desperate excitement as her bonds are loosened and the life floods back into her hands and feet. Soon, she is back up on her high-heeled feet, facing her mistress, the tape gag the only remnant of her tight bondage ordeal.
‘You stink, Christina,’ Helen announces. ‘Go upstairs and shower immediately. I expect to see you in the living room, fully bathed, perfumed, made-up and dressed in one hour. You’ll find a fresh maid’s dress and accessories in your room.’
Christina curtseys somewhat shakily and then minces from the cupboard/room, still devastated by the incredible vision of Helen in her nightdress.
And, as commanded, she returns to her room, strips, removes the gag and virtually staggers into the shower. Yet less than an hour later she is curtseying deeply before her mistress, fully made-up, her wig combed through and sculpted back into its Bettie Page beauty, displaying a new maid’s uniform of spectacular red silk, complete with a cream pinafore, white lace petticoating, seamed red nylon tights, red patent leather stiletto heels, red rubber gloves and a dainty red silk and lace maid’s cap. A vision of crimson loveliness that Mistress Helen applauds.
‘A rather miraculous transformation, Christina. Well done,’ Helen says, her genuine admiration apparent in a warm smile.
Dressed in a formal business suit of black silk, black silk hose and high heels, Helen is, as usual, a vision of perfect dominant womanhood.
‘You will find a bowl of cereal and some milk in the kitchen. You have ten minutes to eat your breakfast. Then we are going over to Anne and Amanda’s house.’
Christina is startled by this announcement. She had expected to be taken to Anne and Amanda’s home at some point, but not dressed in her maid’s finery!
‘I’ll take you over in the car,’ Helen continues.
Christina curtseys her somewhat shocked understanding and minces into the kitchen. Less than twenty minutes later she is sitting rather nervously in the back seat of Helen’s car, being driven by her divine mistress to Anne and Amanda’s house.
The two women live is a surprisingly large detached dwelling, located in a posh neighbourhood on the very edge of the city. The journey takes nearly forty minutes, and poor Christina spends most of this time submerged in a sea of appalling embarrassment, dressed as she is in the wildly erotic, intricate French maid’s uniform and exposed to the eyes of any passer-by or motorist.
Helen parks the car in the driveway of Anne’s house and leads her sexy slave to the large white wooden door. Christina is terrified that she will be spotted, but the road around the house appears more or less deserted.
Helen rings the doorbell and they wait, Christina’s sissy heart pounding with very nervous anticipation. The door is opened by Amanda and Christina feels a sudden wave of very powerful sexual excitement wash over her at the sight of the very beautiful woman. This is because Amanda is dressed in a just above knee-length black cotton skirt, black hose and a pair of very high-heeled courts shoes, together with a very tight black nylon sweater, her beautiful blonde hair freed from its previous intricate fifties movie star styling and now exploding over her shoulders in a golden waterfall. Strangely, this very plump woman looks absolutely fantastic in this tight black outfit. It is almost as if she is possessed by a strange, very powerful sex force, a halo of incredible desirability which makes Christina’s rubberised sex twitch almost uncontrollably.
‘She looks absolutely marvellous, Helen,’ Amanda says, her cool, piercing blue eyes holding the stunned sissy in an almost hypnotic gaze. ‘I really am very impressed.’
Helen smiles modestly. ‘Yes, she’s quite something. And she’s yours for the day. I’ll be back around 6.00 p.m.’
Helen then slaps Christina’s finely hosed thighs and the lovely sissy minces into the house past a smiling Amanda.
Inside, the house is light, clean and very elegantly decorated. A long corridor runs through the centre of the ground floor, a number of doors leading off the left side, a steep, thickly carpeted stairway to the right. To Christina’s surprise, the walls are decorated with numerous portraits, all nudes, all very beautiful and very plump women, and most copies of classic Renaissance works.
Amanda leads a now very nervous Christina into the huge Victorian-style living room and very gently tells her to stand to attention with her hands behind her back.
‘You really are quite delightful,’ Amanda purrs, her gorgeous blue eyes eating up her pretty sissy charge, her very powerful perfume washing over Christina like a breeze of desire.
Christina curtseys her thanks and awaits her first instruction.
‘Helen is so lucky to have found you. I’ve always dreamed of having a maid, although a she-male…well, that certainly never crossed my mind. But looking at you…I think Myriam can learn a great deal from you, Chrissie.’
Christina finds the reference to the pretty French girl very mysterious, but quickly performs another deep curtsey of gratitude.
Then Amanda begins to circle Christina, her eyes burning with curiosity.
‘The dress is very lovely, Chrissie. Anne tells me that Helen has had all kinds of sexy sissy outfits made for you and that you’re addicted to them. Is that true, do you like your feminisation that much? You may talk.’
‘Yes, mistress. I love being feminised. I want nothing more than to serve all women as their pretty she-male slave.’
Amanda laughs and claps her hands together. ‘Dear me, you say that with such enthusiasm! How wonderful! Well, you can certainly serve me all day, but I would like to make one or two small amendments for my own amusement. So to start, I want you to follow me upstairs. ‘
Amanda then leads Christina from the living room and up the stairs. Christina finds that she cannot take her eyes off of Amanda’s very large, but still shapely backside and her long black-hosed legs, that she is intensely attracted to this very pretty, ample woman, and is filled with an electrical sex-anticipation regarding her proposed amendments.
Eventually, she is led into a large, beautifully decorated bedroom. At the centre of the room is a huge oval bed covered in white silk sheets. Beside this, the only furniture is a bedside table, a dressing table and a single full-length mirror fixed to a beautifully carved wooden frame and stand. Just beyond the mirror is another door.
Amanda tells Christina to stand to attention before the bed. The she-male obeys and watches as Amanda goes over to the door by the mirror and pulls it open to reveal a large, walk-in closet filled with rows of beautiful feminine attire and, to Christina’s absolute amazement, the tightly bound and gagged form of Myriam! As the door opens, a powerful light automatically switches on to expose the petite French girl face down on the floor of the closet, her arms pinned behind her back at her wrists and elbows with black silk stockings and lashed to her similarly trussed ankles by a black leather belt. A huge pink rubber ball gag fills her mouth and tears of despair flood from her bloodshot eyes, eyes which squint against the sudden explosion of light.
Dressed in a white basque, white-seamed stockings and white patent leather stilettos, the poor gallic beauty squeals angrily into her gag, her terror-streaked eyes briefly meeting Christina’s with a pathetic begging look. Her struggles have caused her large, firm breasts to burst out of the basque’s bra cups and Christina can only respond to her hapless gaze with a look of stunned desire.
Amanda ignores her bound employee, stepping over her squealing, wiggling form with a quite deliberate indifference, and takes a large cardboard box from beside her struggling form. She then returns to the bedroom after closing the closet door behind her.
‘I’m afraid Myriam was rather naughty last night and will be spending the day in the closet. I was hoping you could get to know her a little better, but that will have to wait for another day. Now, I want you to bend over on the bed, face down.’
Amazed, appalled and deeply confused, Christina still manages to obey without a second of hesitation.
‘Anne tells me that you have a very accommodating arse, Chrissie,’ the plump beauty whispers, placing the box on the bed and then pulling up the she-male’s pretty petticoats and quickly lowering her panties, tights and then the rubber panties.
She slips a hand between the she-male’s buttocks and seeks out the dildo positioned so deeply and erotically in her backside.
‘Well, I think it’s time we made it a little more accommodating.’
Christina moans as the dildo is then pulled free.
‘I understand Helen is determined that you will be able to take a real cock, and she’s asked me to make sure you get a new, bigger dildo today. Of course, I’m only too happy to help. But I thought it silly to mess about with a gradual increase. Best to go straight to the point.’
The frightened she-male watches as her new mistress takes from inside the box a jar of clear gel and a long, thick, hot pink vibrator. Poor Christina’s eyes widen in horror: surely this monster will never fit in her backside!
‘Anne bought this for me when we first met. She used to use it on me every night. Eight inches of pure ecstasy. And I’m sure you’ll agree.’
Then a well-greased finger is exploring her already widened arse and the lovely sissy is soon moaning loudly with an intense pleasure. Then there is the kiss of cold plastic against the entrance to her arse. Almost instinctively, Christina relaxes to allow the vibrator inside. Yet it quickly becomes apparent that this intruder is much larger than anything the gorgeous she-male has previously experienced and her moans of pleasure soon turn to squeals of some discomfort as Amanda continues to push the vibrator deep into her back passage.
‘Just relax a little more and I’m sure it’ll go in,’ Amanda says, increasing the pressure.
But relaxation is the farthest thing from poor Christina’s mind! She feels as if she is being split in two and her squeals of discomfort quickly becomes cries of pain.
‘Please, mistress,’ she cries. ‘It hurts. It’s too big!’
In response, Amanda pushes even harder. Then something very odd happens. Christina feels her anus suddenly expand and almost suck up the vibrator. With a strange, sickly ease the wicked device is then forced home. Suddenly, she feels like a huge rubber pole has been pushed into her very gut and her buttocks have been permanently prised apart. There is a gaping hole in her that has been filled to bursting point by an impossible and fiendish torture toy!
As she struggles with this strange, worrying sensation, Amanda slowly helps Christina back to her feet. As she does so, Christina feels the massive intruder push even further into her arse and tears of panic begin to trickle from her baby girl eyes.
‘Don’t worry,’ Amanda whispers, her voice full of a deep sexual excitement. ‘It’s just the last bit of physical resistance. It’ll feel strange at first, but there’ll be no permanent physical damage done.’
Christina tries to stifle her tears. Amanda then helps Christina back into the rubber panties, tights and delicate silk panties and straightens her sexy maid’s costume.
‘Right’, Amanda says, her eyes consuming the she-male beauty. ‘Now for the gag.’
Then, to Christina’s further distress, Amanda takes from the box what initially appears to be another vibrator, yet closer inspection reveals that it is in fact a large, rubber penis gag attached to two lengths of thick black leather!
‘Open wide!’ Amanda snaps.
Christina obeys and Amanda forces the long, ribbed gag deep into the helpless sissy’s pretty mouth.
The rounded tip of the gag is pushed firmly up against the back of Christina’s mouth and then strapped tightly into place. Her tongue is completely flattened by the gag and any sound, even the tiniest squeal, is subsequently made impossible. Also, there is the terrible, utterly humiliating sense of having a huge rubber cock rammed tightly into her mouth. Yet this is not all, for once the gag is strapped in place, it quickly becomes apparent that, at some point very recently, it has been inserted in a very intimate female place.
‘The gag will be uncomfortable at first, Chrissie,’ Amanda says, a teasing smile lighting up her face. ‘But you’ll need to get used to it. Also, look at it as good practice for the real thing. And I hope you like the taste: I was using it on Myriam’s cunt last night.’
As Christina struggles to come to terms with the gag, Amanda returns to the box and takes from within it a small pair of black leather shackles joined by a very thin, short silver chain. As Amanda kneels down to attach the shackles to Christina’s slender, hosed ankles, the trembling, highly aroused she-male notices that each shackle is fitted with a row of tiny bells. Once these belled shackles have been attached, Amanda then produces a second set, almost identical, but with an even shorter connecting chain. These she fits just below the lovely she-males nylon-sheathed knees. Yet even this is not the end of the shackling, for another set is soon being fitted to her wrists. Then, finally, a longer length of silver chain is produced, which is fitted with a small self-locking hook at each end. This is fitted to the connecting chain running between the knee shackles and the connecting chain between the wrist shackles.
‘There,’ Amanda says, obviously satisfied that her she-male slave is adequately secured. ‘All ready for a morning’s sissy labour.’
Like a member of some bizarre she-male chain gang, poor Christina is then led from the room, shuffle-mincing behind the stunningly ample form of Amanda, the huge vibrator throbbing sensually in her arse, the vast penis gag ensuring an absolute silence, her lovely eyes wide with fear and arousal, each tiny, high-heeled step accompanied by a symphony of delightfully tinkling bells. And it is in this strange state that she is set to work by Amanda. First, to clean the ground floor, to wash up a huge pile of dirty plates in the kitchen, to polish, to dust. Then to work on the upstairs, cleaning the toilet and bathroom, hoovering, dusting and polishing in each of the four bedrooms. A hard, continual graft made ten times more difficult by the gag and the shackles and the constant intrusive presence of the large, hard vibrator. Four hours of intense sissy labour, often carefully observed by Amanda. Not just observed, but also examined. It is almost as if Christina is being put to the test for some mysterious, no doubt deeply perverse reason. Yet the lovely she-male has been very well trained and, despite the difficulties imposed on her, she performs her tasks with a striking sissy enthusiasm and style, and the gorgeous Amanda is clearly very impressed.
Then, at precisely 12.30pm, she is led back to the original bedroom, unshackled, freed of the dreadful gag and then helped to undress. She is very quickly stripped down to her rubber restrainer and then taken back down to the corridor to the bathroom. Here, carefully supervised by the ample blonde, she is placed under a steaming hot shower and made to wash herself thoroughly with scented soap. She is then dried, powdered and perfumed and taken back to Amanda’s bedroom, placed before the dressing table mirror and once again very carefully made up.
Despite the bizarre torments of the morning, Christina has remained continually and quite violently erect. The plump blonde beauty exudes a very powerful sexual energy and her beautiful, sparkling blue eyes are filled with a wicked erotic electricity. As Amanda applies the finishing touches to her slave’s make-up, Christina finds herself staring with intoxicated desire at the beautiful blonde’s very large breasts. Momentarily, sweet memories of suckling Helen return and she wonders what it would be like to worship these substantial, impressive melons.
Satisfied that her charge is suitably decorated, Amanda returns to the closet. Once again, the tethered, tightly gagged figure of poor Myriam is displayed, her struggles now considerably lessened, her muffled protests weak, sad, exhausted. As Amanda carefully steps over her, Christina wonders once again what on earth is going on in this house. It would seem that Myriam is, in some way, a slave to Amanda in the same way that Christina is to her three mistresses. This bizarre truth fills the kinky she-male with a deep arousal and for a moment she envies the lovely French girl’s tight, inescapable bondage.
‘I suppose you’re wondering about Myriam,’ Amanda says, closing the closet door and returning holding a large collection of particularly unusual clothing. ‘She started off in this country as an exchange student. I took her on as a temp at the store over a year ago. She was rather hard up and needed the work quite desperately. Then I offered her a room, for all the wrong reasons. It didn’t take long for things to develop. She was eighteen, rather impressionable. Amazingly, a virgin. Then we became lovers. Or rather, Anne and I shared her. One thing led to another. She willingly joined in our little power games. Then the games became reality and she was very happy. So now she’s more or less my sex slave. And despite appearances, she loves every second of it.’
Christina struggles to take in this amazing tale as Amanda lays the collection of clothing out on the bed. The poor she-male’s eyes then widen in a mixture of horror and amazement as the nature of the costume becomes apparent. For before her is a very fine white satin blouse with thickly befrilled and puffed up sleeves, a very high, equally befrilled neck and a band of wavy satin frilling that runs straight up the middle and within which are located a row of large, silver-grey pearl buttons. Next to this astonishing sissy blouse is a beautiful black velvet jacket with very large red buttons shaped in the form of roses. It too is covered in lacy frilling at the sleeves, hem and neck. Then, next to the jacket, there is a large pair of Victorian-style child’s short trousers, also made of black velvet and also covered in lace frills at the waist and the base of the short legs. Finally, there is a pair of very fine, self-supporting black silk stockings.
‘As Myriam is rather indisposed at the moment, I need a replacement in the shoe section this afternoon. I think you’ll make a rather appropriate replacement, Chrissie. I also thought it would be amusing to dress you up for the occasion. I’m sure my customers will be very impressed.’
And so, under Amanda’s instruction and in a state of terrible trepidation, Christina begins to put on this highly embarrassing, very intricate ‘Little Lord Flaunteroy’ costume. First, slipping expertly into the long, sheer and very sexy black silk stockings, which ensure that she remains very firmly and desperately erect. Then, she is helped into the gorgeous white satin blouse. As she secures the row of buttons running right up to the very top of the frilled neck, a terrible, deeply masochistic sense of sissy surrender overwhelms her: suddenly, the idea of being exposed in public in this sissy attire is not so terrible; indeed, as she is helped into the short trousers, whose befrilled legs only just reach the tops of her stockinged knees, fear has well and truly been replaced by a terrible, kinky arousal, an arousal whose result is made strikingly obvious by the design of the trousers, which are very tight and zipless and, without any panties, reveal the true extent of her excitement for all to see. Yet Amanda seems indifferent to this blatant exposure and concentrates on helping her slave into the jacket and then carefully buttoning it up to the edge of the blouse’s wildly befrilled neck.
‘My, you look gorgeous, Chrissie!’
Christina has little chance to respond before Amanda takes a black shoebox from beneath the bed and produces a pair of truly stunning shoes. Made of black patent leather, they are essentially very pretty Mary Janes, yet each is fitted with a four-inch high stiletto heel and a lovely diamond butterfly buckle. Christina is made to sit on the bed. Amanda kneels down before her and then carefully slips the shoes over the sissy’s delicately stockinged feet. Yet even this is not the end of this new sissification. For as soon as the shoes are secured, Christina is made to rise to her feet and follow her amply formed, ultra-sexy mistress back to the dressing table. Here, a spectacular wig of long blonde ‘bang’ style curls is produced and carefully fitted over her own very short hair. Then, a broad, perverse smile lighting up her lovely face, Amanda carefully applies two rouge circles to the sissy’s cheeks and a new layer of blood-red lipstick to Christina’s helplessly pouting, very full lips.
‘Perfect,’ Amanda purrs. ‘Absolutely perfect.’
Poor Christina stares at her reflection in absolute horror and is even more appalled when Amanda helps the sissy to her feet and then makes her stand before the full-length mirror. Without the feminine padding, Christina appears little more than a very feminine young man, a disturbingly pretty youth lost halfway between male and female, but whose biological sex is made glaringly obvious by the very tight black velvet trousers. Yet it is not just the bizarre spectacle that Amanda has created that fills poor Christina with dread: there is the awful fact that she is to be paraded in this condition before a series of strange women in a public place, a humiliation made perhaps more severe than anything she has experienced so far. And as huge baby tears well up in her lovely eyes, Amanda bursts out laughing.
‘Oh, yes, marvellous – the final sissy touch! Well, not the final touch, actually.’
As the tears trickle down her sissy cheeks, Christina can only watch fearfully as Amanda then opens a small silver box resting on the dressing table and takes from within it a very large baby’s dummy, a dummy that is terrifyingly familiar: the phallic-shaped dummy gag that had been her constant companion during the first seven days of the induction week!
The poor sissy is soon begging for mercy, but this only increases Amanda’s laughter and soon Christina’s mouth is once again tightly filled and the dummy gag’s ribbons have been tied tightly in place at the back of her slender, pretty neck.
‘Yes. That’s it. Now, put your hands behind your back.’
Christina obeys, now bleakly resigned to this new humiliation, her eyes wide, tear stained, and beholding her strange reflection with a sense of ultimate doom. And as Amanda tightly ties her wrists behind her back with a black nylon stocking, forcing her chest out and making her already blatant erection even more apparent, the sissy realises that, despite all this awful embarrassment, this quite evil psychological torture, she is more excited than ever.
* * *
Amanda drives to her shop with Christina travelling in the back seat, her hands and feet bound with stockings, her mouth filled with the humiliating dummy gag. Despite the strange, even disturbing spectacle that she makes, no one seems to notice the tethered sissy and, even though Christina spends the journey terrified that she will be spotted or that the car will be stopped, they arrive outside the service entrance to the shop without incident.
Moaning fearfully into the gag, Christina’s feet are untied and she is then gently helped from the car and led into the rear of the shop. She is soon once again in the corridor leading to the main display area and then back in the private viewing room. Here, Amanda unties her wrists and carefully removes the gag.
‘You will cover the shoe section between 2.00 p.m. and 4.00 p.m. Lucy, my senior assistant will oversee your work. I have also arranged a private fitting for a friend at 4.00 p.m.’
Christina curtseys her understanding, relieved that she is to be spared the awful torment of spending the afternoon dummy-gagged. Then the door to the private room opens and a tall, willowy blonde enters the room, a broad smile on her face, her eyes eating up the bizarre spectacle that is Christina with a sly enthusiasm which turns to titters of cruel entertainment when her eyes finally reach the kinky vision of the poor she-male’s tightly restrained and quite deliberately displayed sex.
‘Lucy, meet Christina. You will supervise her until Lady Ashcroft arrives.’
Lucy, her golden hair tied in a tight bun and clad in the sexy shop uniform of tight white sweater, very short cotton skirt, black hose and heels, snaps a confident ‘Yes, Miss Chalmers’, and then takes Christina by the hand.
‘This way, Christina.’
Staring with pleading eyes at a smiling Amanda, Christina is then led from the room, wiggle-mincing in her heeled Mary Janes, her sex swinging from side to side in the teasing velvet trousers.
‘My, you are a pretty little thing,’ Lucy coos, as they return to the long corridor. ‘But perhaps not so little?’
Christina blushes and Lucy bursts out laughing.
‘And I love your outfit. You look so cute! When you came in the other day, none of us could believe you were a boy. But now, well, there’s really no denying that fact!’
Then they walk out into the rear of the main display area and a wall of blank, sickening fear washes over the helpless she-male. Christina stops dead and gasps in horror. Lucy laughs and pulls the terrified she-male forwards.
‘Don’t be silly, Christina. There’s nothing to be afraid of!’
Poor Christina is then forcibly led to the section of the display floor specialising in ladies’ shoes. Four large racks, each with six shelves loaded with a vast variety of elegant, expensive ladies’ footwear, form a quadrangle, at the centre of which is a number of leather-backed fitting stools. Luckily, there is nobody in the shoe section and Christina finds herself relaxing only very slightly as she is led to the stools.
‘If you work in the shoe section, you spend most of your time on your knees. But I’m sure you’ll like that!’
Christina fights to listen as Lucy explains far too quickly how each set of shelves hold a certain variety of footwear and within each set how there are various sub-varieties. As she explains, Lucy makes a point of bending over to retrieve a lovely, patent leather boot from a bottom shelve, causing her short skirt to ride up her legs and reveal dark stocking tops followed by very shapely thighs and a black silk-pantied bottom. This quite deliberate display is designed purely to excite the hapless she-male and thus to enrage her already very prominent erection even further. And she is still in a state of some considerable sexual distress when a very attractive middle-aged lady suddenly appears and asks for assistance. In response, Lucy spins around, a broad, helpful smile on her face and points directly at Christina.
‘Of course, madam. I’m sure Chrissie will be more than pleased to serve you.’
As Lucy then quickly disappears, her gentle laughter bells of doom in the she-male’s sissy ears, poor Christina turns to face the lady and instinctively performs a deep curtsey.
It is only as the woman gasps in amazement that Christina has the courage to face her fully. Surely, she thinks, the woman will complain, the police will be called. But by the time their eyes meet, the woman is smiling broadly, her eyes filled with cruel humour and something else: desire.
‘Well, well. Another one of Amanda’s little pranks, I assume. And what a particularly lovely one!’
The woman is maybe fifty, dressed in a long black dress, an expensive fur coat and very high heels. Her steel grey hair is bound into a very tight bun with a diamond clasp. Her piercing green eyes remind Christina of Anne, yet there is more humour here, and thus more humanity.
‘And you are?’
‘Christina, mistress,’ the she-male meekly replies, performing another helplessly deep curtsey. ‘How can I serve you?’
The woman’s cherry-red lips widen. ‘Oh, I can think of quite a few ways, actually. But you can start by showing me some shoes. I’m particularly interested in your heeled boots.’
As she speaks, she points a long, red-nailed finger at a rack of very elegant leather boots directly opposite. Christina curtseys and wiggle-minces over to the rack, making sure that the woman is treated to a sexy display of her bouncing and, because of the tightness of the trousers (and the fact he is wearing no underwear), very clearly defined buttocks, two ripe plums in a soft velvet sack.
Keeping her knees tightly together, she bends forwards and selects two types of particularly high-heeled boot, one cut from brown leather with a strange but very attractive flower patterning, the other a stiletto-heeled, black patent leather boot with a pin-pointed, silver-capped toe. Knowing that the woman is feasting her eyes on her now very obviously displayed bottom, Christina performs a naughty little wiggle, straightens up and then returns, her very stiff, very angry sex straining both against the tight rubber restrainer and the taut velvet fabric of the kinky trousers.
The woman now seems quite overcome with arousal and allows herself to be gently led to a fitting stool. Once she has sat down, her eyes glazed yet still fixed firmly on this gorgeous, sexy sissy, Christina elegantly kneels by her feet and bends to slip off her high-heeled court shoes, a familiar she-male confidence washing over her, a deeply enlivening sense of her own feminine charms that brushes the fear and humiliation to one side.
The woman is wearing black hose and her cherry-painted toes are clearly visible through the erotic film of sheer black nylon. Christina recalls her adventures at the feet of her three mistresses and her erection struggles a little more desperately.
‘I think you’ll like these, mistress,’ Christina purrs, slipping the brown boot over the woman’s shapely foot.
The woman stares down at the boot now gracing her left foot and smiles weakly. ‘Yes, it’s nice. Can I try the other one?’
Subdued because overwhelmed, excited, and now confused, the woman watches astonished as Christina then slips the boot from her foot, making sure that her fingers glide over her hosed calves as she does so. She then fits the patent leather boot with an equally erotic care and the slightest moan of pleasure escapes from the woman’s lips.
‘Who are you?’ she asks, trying her hardest to concentrate on the foot.
‘I am the personal maid of some friends of mistress Amanda, mistress.’
‘Maid? But you are…I mean, you’re male?’
‘Yes, mistress. But “she-male” would be a more accurate description.’
‘Indeed…’
Then Lucy appears, a huge smile still glued to her very beautiful face. ‘Mrs Jarvis, how nice to see you again. Is Christina performing adequately?’
The woman, Mrs Jarvis, looks up, startled, dragged from a distinctly erotic day dream. ‘Yes, of course. She…he’s very attentive. Where on earth did you find…him?’
‘Perhaps you would like to talk to the owner?’
‘Yes. I certainly would. And I’ll take both these pairs.’
Christina smiles sweetly, replaces Mrs Jarvis’s original shoes and, at Lucy’s command, hands her the boots.
By the time Lucy has packed the boots and supervised their sale, Christina is already at the hosed feet of another amazed woman.
The next two hours are, despite Christina’s initial horror of exposure in the bizarre costume, quite delightful and very exciting. She is surprised by how busy the shoe section becomes, but the pleasure she takes in serving a succession of mainly older women, all of whom seem to know Amanda, and tending to their finely hosed feet, is a very intense one.
Then, at just before 4.00 p.m., Lucy leads the lovely sissy back to the private viewing room. Here she is presented to Amanda and a strikingly regal woman in her early fifties. Very tall, with stunning, very long blonde hair, dressed in an elegant powder-blue suit consisting of a tight, silver button jacket and a pencil skirt reaching down to white hosed ankles, together with a white silk blouse and matching powder-blue leather court shoes, she is both an image of distinct feminine beauty and considerable authority. Her cool, crystal blue eyes behold Christina with a mixture of disdain and curiosity and as the sissy performs a deep curtsey, she unleashes a whip crack laugh of contempt.
‘Good grief, Amanda, what on earth is this?’ she exclaims, her voice rich, deep, aristocratic, and deeply sexual.
‘Meet Christina, Lady Ashcroft. Helen’s she-male maidservant and general slave.’
‘Helen? Yes, that doesn’t surprise me one little bit. Where did she manage to dig him up?’
‘Believe it or not, he used to be her boss.’
Another brutal, mocking laugh follows. ‘Oh, I believe it…I certainly do believe it.’
It is only as Christina stands fearfully before this impressive woman, her eyes angled demurely at the lovely powder-blue shoes, that she realises she is standing before Lady Emily Ashcroft, the ex-Cabinet minister and now prominent Tory peer. Helen and Amanda, it seems, keep particularly rich company.
‘Well,’ Lady Ashcroft says, ‘what have you got for me?’
Amanda smiles and offers Lady Ashcroft a seat on the sofa. The beautiful, steely-eyed woman slowly, gracefully lowers herself onto the sofa, her eyes never leaving Christina and, more importantly, Christina’s uncontrollable and helplessly exposed erection.
Amanda stands back to reveal a mobile shelving unit consisting of three racks. On each of the racks is a pair of beautiful shoes: a pair of stiletto-heeled, cream silk covered mules; a pair of stiletto-heeled ankle boots with spectacular diamond buckles and black silk ribbon lacing; and a pair of very high-heeled court shoes made from blood-red patent leather.
At Amanda’s instruction, Christina takes the cream coloured silk stilettos from the top rack and then gracefully kneels down by Lady Ashcroft. Placing the new shoes by her feet, she then carefully removes the powder-blue court shoes, delicately and somewhat covertly caressing Lady Ashcroft, white nylon-sheathed feet as she does so. A slight shiver of pleasure runs through the gorgeous aristocrat.
‘You have very delicate hands, Christina.’
‘Thank you, mistress.’
Christina then gently guides Lady Ashcroft’s feet into the powder-blue shoes. The lovely peer stretches out her legs and admires the shoes. For the first time a look of genuine human warmth crosses her beautiful face.
‘Very nice, Amanda. Yes, I like these a lot.’
Over the next thirty minutes, Christina helps Lady Ashcroft into all of the shoes, an increasingly erotic process, more due to the subtle caresses of Christina than the fetishistic pleasure produced by the shoes. But by the end of the fitting, Lady Ashcroft is clearly very happy and agrees to purchase all three pairs. Unfortunately, as Christina is refitting her original shoes, the she-male’s finger becomes caught in the instep of the left shoe and as she struggles to pull it free, her nail scratches the older woman’s foot and ladders her hose. Noticing this, Amanda steps forward, apologising profusely and drags Christina to her feet.
‘Oh, you silly girl!’ she scolds. ‘Now look what you’ve done!’
Christina tries to apologise, but a sudden sharp slap to her velvet imprisoned buttocks immediately induces a painful silence.
Lady Ashcroft then stands up and faces the now very frightened she-male.
‘That was very naughty, Christina. I think a spanking is in order.’
‘Of course, Lady Ashcroft,’ Amanda snaps. ‘I’ll see to it at once.’
‘No. No, I will see to it. Please prepare her and then I will deliver the spanking personally.’
As she speaks, her eyes burn into poor, helplessly sexy Christina. The she-male curtseys and feels a sense of dreadful masochistic arousal wash over her.
Almost curtseying herself, Amanda drags Christina over to the mobile rack. On the top shelf is a small wooden box containing the dummy gag and the two stockings. Within seconds, Christina’s mouth is once again very tightly and perversely stopped and her wrists and ankles are tautly bound. She is then made to hop back to Lady Ashcroft and, despite her bondage, perform a deep, apologetic curtsey.
‘You look very sexy tied and gagged, Christina. If I were your mistress, you’d be gagged all the time.’
Her words, hoarsely spoken, betray the extent of her attraction and arousal. Then, to Christina’s utter amazement, the stunning woman unzips her skirt and lets it fall to the floor, revealing a pair of very shapely legs sheathed in white nylon tights.
‘I’ll be able to control her better without the skirt,’ Lady Ashcroft informs Amanda, who has already knelt down and picked up the skirt as if it were a holy relic.
Lady Ashcroft then sits back down on the sofa, leans forward, takes Christina by the waist and pulls the lovely, terribly excited she-male over her long, hosed legs. Resting helplessly in the peer’s warm, deep lap, her erection pressing deeply into the older woman’s thighs, she is then soundly spanked, receiving twelve hard, firm blows to her backside, a series of very committed blows that leave the poor sissy sobbing into her fat, phallic dummy gag and large girlish tears spilling from her pretty eyes.
Still sobbing, she is then pulled to her feet by Amanda and made to curtsey her thanks for the spanking. Lady Ashcroft rises, takes the skirt from Amanda and steps back into it.
‘You have a very sweet bottom, Christina. I take it your mistresses spank you regularly?’
Christina, now feeling the familiar spread of the spanking’s heat from her bottom to her stiff, rubberised sex, curtseys in the affirmative.
‘Yes, of course. Helen knows what she is doing.’
Then their eyes meet and Christina feels a sense of utter, high erotic helplessness.
‘I will want to see much more of you, Christina.’
Amanda then smiles broadly. ‘I’m sure that will be possible, Lady Ashcroft, especially if we get my proposed business venture off the ground; with your help, of course.’
Lady Ashcroft smiles and nods. ‘Yes. Well, I’ve looked at the business plan you provided and I’m impressed. And if the others are as good as Christina…well, I’m sure we can reach an understanding.’
Confused by this strange coda to the afternoon, Christina curtseys once more before Lady Ashcroft as Lucy enters the room and removes the mobile rack, the young girl’s pretty eyes beholding the bound and gagged form of sissy Christina with great amusement.
Lady Ashcroft then turns to face Christina directly, her eyes quite glazed by sexual excitement. ‘I’ll see you soon, Christina.’
Another curtsey follows, then Amanda leads her very eminent customer from the oval room. Poor Christina must then stand, bound and dummy gagged, for nearly half an hour, her mind racing, her sex burning into her velvet-clad form, desperately trying to make sense of what has just happened.
Amanda eventually returns with a very large smile on her face.
‘Excellent!’ she exclaims. ‘Everything went exactly to plan. Helen and Anne were certainly right about you, Chrissie: you’re the key to a new life for us all!’
Puzzled and even frightened by these strange words, the gorgeous she-male, her bottom burning sweetly, her sex infuriated, can only watch helplessly as her feet are untied. She is then led from the room, back to the rear entrance and to Amanda’s car. Soon, she will be returned to Helen, but in the back of the car, still tightly bound and gagged, all she can think of is the arctic beauty of Lady Ashcroft and her obscure references to a very unclear future.
The next few days pass in a whirl of work and sexual excitement. The more bizarre punishments and adventures previously experienced are replaced by a return to the routine of servitude and education. From 6.00 a.m. to 10.00 p.m. each day, Christina eagerly performs an apparently never-ending array of household duties and undergoes further training in her domestic role and in the various erotic trappings of sissy femininity. Each morning is spent undertaking mainly unsupervised duties such as cleaning and washing and more ironing, although not in the rather harsh conditions of the previous Sunday evening. Each afternoon is spent in a trance of delight as she undergoes movement and deportment training with Donna. And each evening she minces prettily before her mistresses in her finest and sexiest maid’s outfits, so eager to serve and please in any way. Although she is often spanked, especially by Helen, there are no more strange bondage ordeals. This is partly due, Christina is sure, to the absence of Anne, who has returned to work, but is also very busy transforming Christina’s website into a full-blown commercial venture. And then at night, there is the simple ecstasy of sharing Donna’s bed and expressing her deep, perhaps bottomless love for the blonde beauty through a passionate and prolonged love-making that leaves both of them exhausted, yet even more obsessed with each other.
And Friday comes so very quickly. Then Christina is faced with the imminent arrival of Annette. She spends the Friday afternoon with Donna choosing a suitably sexy outfit in which to meet her fellow she-male. Helen is also very keen that Christina look ‘appropriately alluring’ and insists she inspect the lovely sissy once a costume has been selected and fitted. So, at just before 6.00 p.m., Christina wiggle-minces into the living room behind Donna to present herself to Helen. She is wearing a very short pink skirt, a white silk blouse, a matching pink jacket, together with very sheer white nylon tights and pink patent leather, stiletto-heeled mules. The black Bettie Page wig has been replaced by a thick, very curly ‘Monroe-style’ blonde wig and her lips have been painted a pink that matches exactly the skirt and shoes.
‘You’re the essence of sissy femininity,’ Helen says, her eyes filled with a profound triumph. ‘You have fulfilled all our hopes.’
Christina curtseys her thanks.
‘Poor Annette won’t know what hit her,’ Donna says. ‘She’ll be over here begging us to turn her into a maid.’
Christina’s look of concern weakens Helen’s smile.
‘There’s no need to be concerned, Christina. We’re not going to replace you. But we do want a second sissy to help you. We have some very ambitious plans for you, Chrissie, but we can’t achieve them without a little more she-male support. Therefore, I’ve decided to interview Annette and see if she will make a suitable companion for you and a second maidservant and general slave for us.’
Christina listens in utter astonishment, but makes sure merely to curtsey her understanding before the two gorgeous mistresses. Helen’s plans fill the sissy with both trepidation and a deep, disturbing excitement. Suddenly, she realises that she is being used to lure Annette into an elaborate trap, that she is bait to capture the beautiful she-male and condemn her to a life of ultra-feminised sissy slavery. Yet the more this simple fact sinks home, the more appealing and arousing it becomes. To share her delightful servitude with Annette: yes, that would be simply wonderful.
At exactly 6.30 p.m., Christina, now filled with a sexually tinged nervous anticipation, is led from the house and into Helen’s car. Driven across the city by Helen, she stares down at her long, white-nylon-sheathed legs and feels her sex strain against its tight rubber prison. All her dreams are coming truer than she could ever have imagined; everything is finally working out for her. She is in a state of bliss.
‘Oh, I forgot to tell you,’ Helen says, turning briefly to her slave. ‘I’ve sorted out the situation at work. You’re now on sick leave but, providing my contact can get around the personnel paperwork, you should be able to resign without notice on medical grounds within the month. So you won’t have to go back.’
A smile of utter joy lights up Christina’s pretty face. ‘Oh, thank you, mistress!’ she exclaims.
Helen smiles and nods. ‘You should know that I intend to resign as well, to concentrate on developing your potential. Anne has already submitted her resignation and, once she has worked out her period of notice, she will work full-time on the website. Donna is still considering her position.’
Christina takes in these revelations with a servile nod, but soon her mind is racing with their implications for her very sissy future. Yet at the back of these almost delirious ponderings is a question: how on earth did Helen, a relatively low-grade clerical assistant, manage to arrange for Christina (as Chris) to develop an illness that circumvented the personnel regulations of her (his) employer?
They arrive at the apartment building a few minutes before 7.00 p.m. As Christina elegantly steps from the car, Helen reminds her that she expects the two she-males to be at the house by no later than 9.00 p.m. Christina whispers a nervous, ‘Yes, mistress,’ and begins to mince towards the building. As Helen’s car pulls away, a soft, vaguely familiar voice calls her name. Christina turns and finds herself facing Annette. She is dressed in a long black coat that is open to reveal a tight white sweater, a black leather skirt, and very sexy, long legs sheathed in black nylon which are resting on black leather stiletto-heeled mules. Her red hair bound in a tight bun, she is a striking image of sophisticated womanhood, her pretty blue eyes wide with trepidation and excitement, her cherry-red lips curved into a slight, nervous smile.
‘Annette?’ Christina responds, stunned by this sudden, beautiful manifestation.
The two she-males behold each other in a shocked, highly erotic silence.
‘Yes, it’s me,’ Annette eventually says. ‘I thought it was you, even with the blonde wig. I recognised your legs. You look fantastic, even better than the photograph.’
Christina smiles. ‘Thanks. You look great, too. I love the coat.’
After this, there is another short, painful silence as the sissies nervously size each other up.
‘Well, let’s go up to my flat and talk,’ Christina says, leading Annette into the main entrance.
In the lift, going up to Christina’s apartment, there is a terrible, electric silence, the she-males’ eyes never meeting, but both of them studying the other’s sexy form intently. Then, her voice cutting through the dreadful sexual static filling the lift, Annette speaks.
‘You’re so beautiful, Christina. I can’t believe it.’
Her voice is filled with sex, with desire, with a hoarse, brutal arousal. They have been together only five minutes and already Christina is nearly overwhelmed by an intense, yet deeply ambivalent desire for this she-male beauty. She had never thought this would happen, especially so quickly.
‘So are you,’ Christina stutters. ‘To be quite honest, I’m shocked. I didn’t think this would happen.’
‘What?’
‘That we’d be…well…’
‘Turned on…by each other?’
Christina nods weakly, feeling her heart pound furiously in her head and her sex stretch angrily against the rubber restrainer. The lift door opens and she nearly falls out into the corridor.
She fumbles with the door key and eventually they mince into the flat. Christina leads Annette through to the living room. Here she helps the gorgeous she-male to slip out of her coat, revelling in her powerful musky perfume as she does so. Annette sits down, crossing her long, black-nylon-sheathed legs. Poor Christina can only stare in astonishment as the black leather skirt rides up her shapely thighs to reveal hints of stocking-tops.
‘Would you like a drink? I have a bottle of white wine, somewhere.’
Annette smiles and nods, her eyes now fixed on Christina’s own legs.
Christina hangs the coat up, digs the bottle of wine out of the fridge and returns to the living room. She places the bottle on a glass-topped coffee table and returns to the kitchen for a corkscrew and glasses, very much aware that as she turns away from Annette, the other sissy’s eyes are drinking up her perfectly feminised, ultra-sexy body.
Eventually, Christina sits down opposite Annette and the two beautiful she-males sip nervously at their glasses of chilled wine, their eyes now connecting and betraying the true depth of a very mutual attraction.
‘I’ve never done this before,’ Christina confesses. ‘Met with another…cross-dresser.’
‘I’ve been out for nearly two years now,’ Annette replies, clearly relieved that Christina is trying to break through the sex-tension surrounding them. ‘It was difficult at first, but the desire was too great too resist. I just had to do it. I joined a club, met some others. Then, I found I could pass quite easily, and soon I was going out all the time. But, I have to say, in all the time I’ve been “out”, I’ve never met someone as convincing as you.’
Christina blushes and looks down at the floor, mumbling a coy, ‘Thank you.’ When she looks up, Annette is staring straight at her, her smile filled with desire.
‘I have been with other TVs,’ Annette says. ‘Sexually, I mean. I can see that’s what you’re thinking.’
Christina swallows hard, her heart in her mouth, words trapped by fear and desire. All she can do is nod.
‘Have you any experience that way?’ Annette then asks.
Christina shakes her head slowly as Annette’s smile widens and she rises from the chair. The lovely redheaded sissy kneels before Christina and places her hands on her new friend’s delicately hosed knees.
‘We can have a lot of fun tonight. And you don’t have to worry, I’ll show you what to do.’
As the lovely she-male whispers her teasing words to Christina, her hands slip under the pink skirt towards the matching silk panties hidden beneath. Christina gasps and parts her legs slightly, her sex now furiously fighting the rubber restrainer. But then she remembers Helen’s words, the purpose of this evening, the construction of her sissy future. She closes her legs and gently pushes Annette’s hands away.
‘You’re very sexy, Annette. And I do feel very attracted to you, but I have to be back at Mistress Helen’s by nine, with you.’
Annette raises her eyebrows and sits back on the heels of her feet.
‘You’re serious about this mistress business, aren’t you? It sounds totally unbelievable to me, Christina. A wish-fulfilment fantasy. I thought it was just a game to get me down here. That once we got to know each other, you’d let me be your mistress and then a little later we could swap roles.’
‘No, it’s not a fantasy. It’s real. You heard Helen’s voice. Anyway, just look at me. Do you think I did this on my own? It’s better than a fantasy, Annette – it’s the most erotic reality imaginable. It’s all your fantaseys times ten. I’m utterly serious.’
Surprised by the force of Christina’s response, Annette elegantly stands up and returns to her chair.
‘So you have three mistresses. You’re their servant, their maid. This woman who spoke to me on the phone – Helen – she’s the head mistress. And you work at her house. It sounds incredible.’
‘There are four mistresses, now. Maybe more. And it is incredible. But it’s also true. If you come with me, you’ll find out.’
‘I don’t know, Chris. I really don’t. Look at it from my point of view. Really, I hardly know you. This might be a plot of some kind. Some weird sex thing.’
The doubt in Annette’s eyes is very real. Christina can see it will be very difficult to get her to come to meet Helen. Then, a simple means of helping to convince Annette pops into her mind. Now she slips out of her chair and kneels before the sexy redhead, placing her hands on Annette’s black-nylon-sheathed knees.
‘If you come with me, I promise I’ll make all your dreams come true. We’ll go to the house. You don’t have to come in. If you want to come back, fine. And even then, I promise I’ll do whatever you want, willingly. Just come to the house.’
As she talks, she slowly slips her hands beneath Annette’s skirt and begins gently to caress her stocking-tops. As she does this, and as she whispers her promises, the other she-male moans slightly, her eyes close, she begins to slip down into the chair. Then Christina removes her hands.
‘Well?’ she asks.
Annette looks at her and smiles. ‘OK. Let’s go.’
They finish the wine quickly and then leave the building. Annette leads Christina to a nearby car park. She steps up to a beautiful, brand-new, silver Jaguar sports car and Christina gasps in amazement.
‘This is yours? What did you do…rob a bank?’
‘Sort of. I work for a bank. Or rather, an international banking house.’
Annette opens the passenger door and helps Christina inside. The lovely she-male finds herself sinking into plush grey leather seats and nearly moans with pleasure.
Annette climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the motor.
‘Banking must pay well,’ Christina says, her eyes eating up Annette’s gorgeous legs.
‘I do OK. But I’d give it up tomorrow if the right offer came along.’
They arrive outside Helen’s house twenty minutes later. The journey has been tense, with little conversation. It is now clear that Annette is very wary of coming to the house and still questions Christina’s motives. It is just before 9.00 p.m. Annette pulls the car into the large driveway, clearly impressed by the huge, plush residence.
She then turns off the motor and faces Christina.
‘Even if I don’t go in, you’ll make love to me tonight?’ she asks, her hungry eyes betraying the true depth of her desire.
Christina smiles and, suddenly very confident, leans forwards and takes Annette’s face in her hands. Then she kisses her, a long, hard, passionate kiss that leaves Annette flushed, aroused and gasping for breath.
‘If you come inside, that’s just a taste of what to expect. That and the realisation of all the fantasies we’ve discussed on the Net.’
Annette follows Christina to the door in a trance and is still staring into a sex-shocked oblivion when Helen opens the door. Christina immediately performs a very deep curtsey.
‘This is Annette, mistress.’
Shaken from her trance by the appearance of the stunning, regal Helen, Annette smiles nervously.
‘I’m glad you could come, Annette.’
Helen ushers the two she-males into the hallway and then leads them into the living room. Here they discover Anne and Donna waiting by the fireplace, chatting and drinking wine.
‘Ladies,’ Helen announces, ‘meet Christina’s friend, Annette.’
As Christina instinctively curtseys before the two mistresses, Anne and Donna turn to greet Annette, who is staring at the two women like an amazed astronaut coming across two beautiful extra-terrestrials.
‘Hello, Annette,’ Donna says, stepping forwards, her eyes filled with a strange mixture of friendliness and jealousy. ‘It’s nice to meet you after everything we’ve been told by Chrissie. Please take a seat. Chrissie, get Annette a glass of wine.’
Christina curtseys and, taking the bottle and a glass from the coffee table, carefully pours a drink for her new she-male friend.
Annette, smiling nervously, takes the glass with a shaking hand and then takes a very long sip of the expensive French white wine.
‘You’re very pretty,’ Anne says, her eyes filled with something more than the usual mixture of cruelty and contempt. ‘Much prettier than Chrissie told us you were. I think she’s a little jealous of you.’
Annette laughs nervously and stares up at the tall, emerald-eyed redhead. Tonight, Anne is dressed in a short white-and-black checked skirt, a tight white sweater, black tights and high heels, her beautiful red hair spilling over her shoulders. She looks fantastic and Annette is clearly very impressed.
‘Christina is very b-beautiful, too,’ Annette stutters, trying not to stare hungrily at Anne’s gorgeous, perfectly shaped legs.
‘You like Christina?’ Helen asks, joining the group now surrounding Annette.
‘Yes, very much. I’m amazed by how convincing she is.’
‘We’ve put a lot of work into her,’ Helen replies. ‘And she’s also quite naturally talented.’
‘And she really works as your maid?’
Helen smiles. ‘Oh, yes. We’ve trained her to serve us in any way we see fit. She is completely submissive and obeys us without question. Indeed, it’s very obvious she enjoys her servitude. I suspect masochism is a trait of most transvestites. Are you a masochist, Annette?’
A sudden, brutal question, a bolt of fire out of a blue sky of civility that causes poor Annette to choke on her wine and break into a brief fit of coughing.
‘Perhaps I phrased the question poorly,’ Helen continues, moving closer to Annette. ‘Do you like the idea of being dominated, by women, by rather good-looking women? Isn’t this a fantasy you share with Chrissie?’
Annette, now surrounded, looks at Helen, then at Donna and finally at Anne. She continues to stare at Anne as she whispers a very hoarse, ‘Yes, it is.’
‘I’m sure you’ll look very sexy in a maid’s uniform,’ Anne purrs, holding Annette in her cobra-like gaze.
‘Would you like that?’ Helen asks. ‘To join Christina and become one of our maids? Just for the weekend, to start with – to see if you like it. Then, well, we can think about the future later.’
Christina watches, fascinated, as fear and doubt slip from Annette’s face like a worn skin, to be replaced with a very powerful arousal.
‘I…Yes, I would,’ Annette mumbles after a while.
‘Good,’ Helen snaps. ‘We rather hoped you would. And I think there’s no time like the present. So maybe Anne could take Annette upstairs and get her suitably attired?’
Anne smiles and nods. ‘Of course, Helen. Come on, Annette, follow me.’
Christina watches Annette rise from the sofa and allow the cruel dominatrix to take her gently by the hand and then lead her from the room.
‘She’s marvellous!’ Helen exclaims, as soon as Annette has gone. ‘Even better than I expected. And so easy to control.’
‘Anne seems to like her,’ Donna says, a slight edge cutting through her normally relaxed voice.
‘Yes, I didn’t expect that. I thought I’d have to dress her.’
‘And she’s not the only one who likes her,’ Donna continues, turning to Christina.
The sissy maid blushes, but does not respond.
‘I suggest you take Chrissie up and get her ready as well,’ Helen says to Donna. ‘Then we can see what they look like together. Use the white uniform tonight.’
And so Christina is led from the room by Donna, up the stairs and into the spare bedroom. Dressed in a tight black sweater and a black rubber mini-skirt, black tights and high heels, Donna is a sleek, sexy beauty, and Christina’s mad hunger for her is quickly revived.
Once in the bedroom, Donna orders Christina to strip down to her restrainer as quickly as possible. As the she-male obeys, Donna returns to the apparently bottomless wardrobe and begins to take from it the items that will make up this evening’s costume.
‘You seem very attracted to Annette,’ Donna says, placing a large pile of white lingerie on the bed.
‘Yes, mistress,’ Christina replies, knowing that only a truthful response will satisfy Donna.
‘Well, that’s hardly surprising – she’s beautiful.’
‘Yes, mistress.’
‘And I can see she really fancies you. Which is actually a good thing, what we’ve been planning for, really. Especially Helen. But I can’t help feeling a bit jealous. I can’t help saying that to you, Chrissie.’
Christina is amazed by this response.
‘Jealous, mistress? Why? Surely you know how much I love you. Love and desire you.’
A slight smile crosses Donna’s face and she turns to face Christina. ‘Yes, I do know. And I will go along with Helen’s plans, because Annette is going to be very important for your development. But that doesn’t mean I’ll enjoy it, and it does mean I might be a little harder on you.’
Now naked, Christina curtseys her understanding, although what exactly Donna does mean is more than a bit of a mystery.
Over the next thirty minutes, Donna helps Christina to dress in a striking white maid’s uniform. Every item of clothing is an exactly matching snow-white: lace-frilled rubber ‘foundation’ panties, a leather corset, white, seamed silk tights, white silk panties, an expertly padded silk bra, a beautiful silk maid’s dress, a silk pinafore, and a pair of white patent leather court shoes with striking five-inch high heels. The blonde wig is kept in place and her make-up is carefully touched up. A pair of white silk gloves are slipped over her hands and then she is allowed to see the finished product in the wardrobe mirror. And what she beholds is a heavenly vision, a maid angel, the sexiest, sweetest image of she-male submission imaginable, one that brings a gasp of deep, narcissistic pleasure from her lovely sissy mouth.
It is just after ten by the time Christina is returned to the living room. She wiggle-minces into the room and curtseys deeply before Helen, who is sitting on the sofa drinking another glass of wine. Helen smiles and sits up.
‘My, my,’ she whispers. ‘What a pretty little angel.’
Christina smiles and performs another curtsey, this time making sure that her lovely silk panties are fully displayed for Helen’s amusement.
‘I think we need more wine, Christina. Go to the kitchen and prepare a fresh bottle and glasses.’
Christina curtseys and totters sweetly into the kitchen. By the time she returns with a silver tray laden with a bottle and three fresh glasses, Anne has brought a transformed Annette down to join them.
Upon seeing Annette, the poor sissy maid has difficulty preventing a gasp of amazement and dropping the tray. For before her is an even more striking vision of ultra-feminine submission. Annette has been dressed in a uniform that is exactly the same in every detail to the one that Christina is so happily wearing, except that hers is totally pink: pink pinafore, pink dress, pink seamed tights, pink high heels. Her red hair has been untied and is spilling over her slender shoulders, and a dainty pink maid’s cap has been positioned on the top of this thick, glossy mass.
It is quite obvious that Annette is deeply aroused and as her eyes meet Christina’s they communicate a profound ecstasy. Yet even in the heat of this erotic distraction, Annette manages a rather excellent and very deep curtsey that ensures all the women and Christina get a very good view of her befrilled pink silk panties.
‘Wonderful,’ Helen says, stepping up to Annette and taking her soft, dimpled chin in her hands. ‘Simply wonderful.’
‘She’s obviously had her share of male lovers,’ Anne says. ‘Her arse is wider than Chrissie’s. It took the full-size dildo with very little resistance. Although she wasn’t too impressed by the restrainer.’
The women laugh as Annette blushes. Then Helen steps up to the new sissy maid.
‘You will stay here until Monday morning. During the weekend, you will act as our maid and obey us and your fellow mistresses without question. You will assist Christina under our instruction. Do you understand?’
Annette curtseys once more, her excited eyes cast modestly to the floor.
The two sissy maids spend the next two hours serving their mistresses. Annette is an elegant and eager slave and spends most of her time mincing around Anne. The wicked, beautiful redhead treats Annette like a tame cat, idly stroking her silken thighs while chatting to Donna and Helen, holding up her glass when it requires refilling with an arrogant indifference that only serves to inflame Annette even more. But then, perhaps inevitably, Annette makes a mistake, spilling a tiny drop of wine on the sofa, and she quickly finds herself dragged across Anne’s long legs and her panty-imprisoned bottom is the victim of a particularly sound, relentless spanking. Yet despite the obvious pain this causes her and the tears that soon pour from her lovely green eyes, intense excitement surrounds her body like a burning halo. And, once returned to her high-heeled feet, she serves Anne with an even greater enthusiasm.
And it is well after midnight when the women eventually decide to retire. Helen quite blatantly takes Anne’s hand and leads her from the room, Annette’s eyes widening in jealous amazement as she does so.
‘Donna, I’m sure you won’t mind putting the sissies to bed. Then maybe you’d like to join us?’
Now it is Christina’s turn to feel the bitter bite of jealousy.
‘Now you know how I feel,’ Donna whispers to Christina, before ordering the two gorgeous she-males up to Christina’s room.
Once in the room, Christina is ordered to strip Annette down to her freshly restrained sex. Christina eagerly obeys, taking a deep, burning pleasure in slowly undressing the redheaded she-male, whose desperate breathing and moans of pleasure betray the depth of her own sissy arousal.
Eventually, Christina has stripped Annette down to her tights and the rubber panties beneath, and it is only as she slowly begins to roll the tights over the panties that the true extent of Annette’s paradoxical manhood becomes clear.
Donna, who has been watching the undressing with amused, undoubtedly aroused eyes, steps forwards for a closer look, ordering Christina to stand clear. She then pulls the tights down to the sissy’s slender ankles and, with one eager tug, hauls the panties down to her knees, a sharp intake of breath following the revelation of Annette’s tightly restrained sex.
‘Bloody hell,’ she gasps.
Poor Christina’s eyes have widened with a mixture of shock, jealousy and arousal, for Annette’s sex is extremely impressive, at least ten stunning, very erect inches that have pulled the rubber restrainer to the very edge of its capacity. Annette blushes furiously and then squeals like a little girl as Donna takes this substantial cock in her hands and studies it like a scientist beholding a new, mutant species.
‘This’ll keep you entertained,’ Donna says to a very confused Christina.
Then, to Annette’s extreme excitement and Christina’s dismay, Donna, after applying the expansion gel, gently eases the restrainer off the huge, engorged sex.
‘Go to the dressing table and look in the top drawer,’ she says to Christina. ‘You’ll find two stockings and two cock-rings. Bring them here.’
Curtseying deeply, the she-male minces over to the dressing table and retrieves the rings and stockings. She then stands by Donna, hands held out, as her lover and mistress takes one of the soft, scented black nylon stockings and slowly slips it over the head of Annette’s striking sex.
Poor Annette cries out with a familiar mixture of frustration and pleasure as the stocking is pulled into place, her knees visibly buckling under the tremendous weight of her arousal. And as soon as the stocking is positioned, she takes one of the awful double cock-rings and carefully snaps it into place. Cries of pleasure become moans of pain. The rings are actually too narrow for Annette’s thick, long sex and have to be forced together, thus biting deeply into the lovely she-male’s most tender flesh.
Despite her obvious discomfort, Annette remains in a state of wild arousal and watches with sex-maddened eyes as Donna strolls over to the wardrobe, returning with two very familiar baby-doll nightdresses, two pairs of matching nylon stockings and two pairs of matching silk panties. Like the maid’s outfits, one baby-doll is pink and one is white, and it is the pink one, together with the panties and the stockings, that Donna then insists Annette put on.
As Annette struggles with the baby-doll, Donna helps Christina to strip down to her own fiendish rubber restrainer. As she does so, her hands glide teasingly across the sissy’s silky smooth body.
‘If you’re going to sleep together, I’m afraid you’ll have to be restrained. And there’s no telling what you’ll get up to if you’re not tightly bound and gagged.’
Poor Christina moans with a terrible excitement as Donna then spreads expansion gell over her rubberised cock and then eases off the restrainer, only to replace it very quickly with the scented stocking and the dreadful, painful cock-ring. And once Christina is suitably restrained, her eyes nearly watering with the discomfort of the fiendish ring, she is ordered into the white baby-doll and the accompanying stockings and panties.
In a few minutes, the two lovely she-males are standing before Donna, their hands behind their backs, looking extremely sexy in the semi-transparent baby-dolls and sheer, self-supporting nylon stockings. A smile of cruel pleasure on her face, Donna then returns to the dressing table to retrieve numerous lengths of the black rubber cording, a roll of silver masking tape and two more pairs of panties, both black, both made from very fine silk.
She places the weapons of bondage on the bed and takes up the panties.
‘Open wide, girls. A pair of Helen’s and a pair of mine. Both worn today. It’s a pity we didn’t know Anne was going to take such a shine to you, Annette, otherwise I’d have found a pair of hers.’
Donna then stuffs the first pair of panties into Annette’s wide-open mouth. From the look of trance-like excitement in her gleaming green eyes, it is clear that she is enjoying every second of her servitude intensely, and the sight of this beautiful she-male being tightly gagged only adds to Christina’s own already considerable arousal.
And once the panties have been forced home, Donna tears off a long, thick strip of the tape and spreads it firmly across Annette’s pretty, soft lips, sealing the panties in place and making any protest against her bondage utterly impossible.
Christina continues to watch as Donna then binds Annette’s arms behind her back at her wrists and elbows and then leads the beautiful, moaning sissy over to the bed. She pulls back the silken sheets and then helps Annette to lie face down. Once Annette has been positioned on the bed, Donna takes up two more lengths of the rubber cording and tightly binds her finely stockinged ankles and knees. She then uses a third length of cording to bind Annette’s ankles to her wrists and thus secure her in a very tight and strict hog-tie that produces a moan-cum-squeal of deeply masochistic pleasure from the lovely sissy.
As Annette struggles helplessly on the bed, Donna returns to Christina and begins to prepare her slave lover for bed. As she forces the panty gag deep into Christina’s mouth, their eyes meet and the gorgeous sissy sees once again the fires of a powerful jealousy. It is clear that Donna is determined to make her suffer tonight, yet the more she tries to punish her sissy slave, the more her sissy slave will love her. And both of them know this.
Soon Christina is gagged and her arms are lashed tightly behind her back. Then she is led over to the relatively narrow single bed. Donna carefully pushes Annette over to the left side of the bed, ensuring that she is subsequently left balancing precariously on the edge. Christina is then helped to lie face down in the space that has been created. Yet even this space is too narrow, and Christina finds herself pushed tightly up against Annette, yet at the same time positioned right on the very edge of the bed.
As Donna secures Christina’s legs and then the hog-tie, she teases the two lovely sissies terribly.
‘I’m afraid there isn’t much room, so I suggest you don’t try to arouse each other by moving about. Just to make sure you don’t fall off the bed and hurt yourselves, I’m going to tie you together.’
She then proceeds to tie a further length of the rubber cording to the middle of the cord binding Christina’s wrists to her ankles and then pull this length over to the cord binding Annette’s wrists to her ankles, thus pulling the sissies tightly together. She then ties this extra cord in a very tight knot.
‘This way, you should both be able to act as counterbalances against falling off the bed,’ Donna explains, stepping back to admire her latest living bondage sculpture. ‘But if you struggle too much, one will fall and drag the other one with her. So beware.’
Donna then takes up the large white silk sheet and lays it gently over the two sissies.
‘Sleep tight, girls,’ Donna teases, smiling broadly before turning towards the door.
As she reaches the doorway, she flicks off the light and plunges them both into a darkness that is made complete as she shuts and locks the door.
Pressed so tightly together, yet both struggling to maintain a precarious balance, the two sissies have been placed in a deliberately tortuous position. As they fight to keep their balance, they rub up against each other repeatedly, thus only managing to excite themselves even more. This in turn causes their already stiff sexes to expand and meet the painful and relentless opposition of the fiendish metal cock-rings. Yet even in this strange, uncomfortable state, the two she-males are still wildly excited, and they are soon both releasing a series of high-pitched baby girl squeals of pleasure into their fat, pungent panty-gags.
That night there is little sleep. Yet there is plenty of the strange, dark and very deep-rooted pleasure that both sissies find in the rituals of domination, submission and ultra-bondage. In their delicate, sexy costumes, so firmly panty-gagged, so securely bound, they rest so closely to each other, revelling in the sexed-up body heat of the other beneath the soft, silk sheet. Yet this is only the beginning of their relationship, and both know now that they are on the verge of a truly ecstatic and deeply feminine future.
The two sissies are not freed from their erotic bondage until nearly 9.00 a.m. the next morning. Aching, tired and still terribly excited, they are made to strip naked by Donna and Anne. The cock-rings and stockings are slowly removed and then they are made to share a long, hot shower, their freed, straining sexes rubbing together as they struggle to wash their sissified bodies in the confined space.
Their eyes meet as their most intimate regions collide.
‘It would be easier if we washed each other,’ Annette whispers.
Christina smiles nervously and nods. Annette takes her bar of pink, heavily scented soap and begins to create a thick lather in her lovely hands. She then gently massages the suds into her fellow slave’s silky chest. Christina responds by soaping Annette’s thighs, her face momentarily brushing against the redhead’s furious, stiff sex as she leans down.
Annette is a natural redhead who wears her lovely hair long both in her feminine guise and as Alan, her male persona – previously revealed to Christina in their e-mail correspondence. Already aware that the mistresses insist that Christina wear wigs, Annette carefully washes what little natural hair Christina has with an expensive female shampoo.
By the time Anne orders them both back to the bedroom, the two sissies are thoroughly cleansed and even more excited. After drying each other off carefully, they wiggle-mince back into the bedroom to be met by Donna, Anne and also by Helen.
‘We’ve decided to have a little party tonight, girls,’ Helen announces, ‘and you will act as maids to the guests for the evening. The house will need to be thoroughly cleaned and you’ll both be required to help with all the other preparations. Anne has also organised a photo shoot for this afternoon with Ingrid. So there’s a very busy day ahead.’
Helen and Anne leave Donna to help dress Christina and Annette in the elegant, sexy maids’ costumes to which they had been introduced the night before, including the less severe rubber restrainers. While Donna provides general supervision, she is keen to ensure that the two sissies help each other dress, and the pleasure the she-males gain from this co-operative transformation is quite considerable. They help each other with guiding hose up silken legs, with binding corset laces, with clipping bras into place, with buttoning up elaborate maids’ dresses, with tying pinafore ribbons in fat, sissy bows, with clipping dainty maids’ caps into place; every gesture performed with an exaggerated feminine grace, every gesture a form of sissy love-making.
Then they are ready, Christina in white, Annette in pink, two spectacular and utterly convincing she-male beauties, two gorgeous sissy slaves eager to do the bidding of their mistresses.
The rest of the morning is spent thoroughly cleaning each room in the large, elegant house. Under Christina’s general instruction, Annette proves a willing and competent trainee. Unfortunately, Christina is constantly distracted from her instruction by the striking beauty and natural femininity of her charge, by the sight of her petticoat-laden maid’s dress riding up her long, pink-hosed legs as she bends over to perform some menial task, by a flash of her beautiful green eyes or a sexy pout of her soft cherry-red lips. As they work from room to room, Christina’s physical attraction to this gorgeous she-male beauty, initiated in her flat, developed in the heat of their all-night ordeal of tight sissy bondage, is consolidated in the effort of their domestic servitude.
By lunchtime, the house is even more pristine than the day before, positively sparkling under the impact of the constant round of cleaning undertaken by Christina and now by Christina with her new, sexy assistant. They serve a simple sandwich lunch to Helen alone (Donna and Anne having gone out). Helen watches every move the two sissies make and the way any excuse is always found for their sweetly feminised bodies to rub ‘accidentally’ together.
‘Are you enjoying being with Annette, Christina?’ Helen suddenly asks.
Christina hesitates, looking over to her lovely sissy companion before answering. ‘Yes, mistress. Very much.’
‘Are you attracted to her…sexually?’
A longer pause follows this question. ‘Yes, mistress.’
‘Donna is rather jealous, you know.’
Christina curtseys, but does not respond.
‘But she understands what we are doing, that certain sacrifices have to be made. So she won’t reject you, although I think you’ll find her a slightly harder task mistress from now on.’
Christina curtseys once again.
‘As I mentioned earlier,’ the gorgeous, regal mistress continues, ‘later this afternoon there will be a special photo session organised by Anne. It will take place in the spare room and Ingrid will be assisting. I also understand she will be bringing a friend. I have agreed that you can be released from your duties for three hours, between 2.00 p.m. and 5.00 p.m. Now, I want you to return to your room for the next twenty minutes or so and you will be called when required.’
The two sissies curtsey deeply and then wiggle-mince from the room, up the stairs to the spare room. Once alone, there is a deep silence framed by the static electricity of sexual desire. The two she-males face each other, they consume each other with hungry, stunned gazes. Then Annette speaks, her voice a hoarse, deeply aroused whisper.
‘Oh, God, Christina. I can’t believe it: everything you said was true! And it’s so incredibly sexy. Last night was simply a dream. I’ve never been so turned on! And you look so wonderful. And when you told Helen that you were attracted to me! And the restrainer…my God, it’s so kinky, so sexy. It just makes me want to…’
Her voice trails off.
‘What?’ Christina says, her own state of arousal all too obvious. ‘Tell me what it makes you want to do.’
‘To make love to you,’ Annette whispers, her eyes widening, her tongue crossing her cherry-red lips slowly, teasingly.
Poor Christina sways nervously in her lovely high heels and feels her own rigid sex strain angrily against its tight, wicked rubber prison.
‘You said you would,’ Annette continues. ‘If I came here with you.’
Perhaps surprisingly, it is Christina who then steps forwards and takes Annette’s face in her hands and then gently yet passionately kisses the sexy, nervous and very excited redhead. Then they are lost in each other, locked in a tight, desperate embrace, their hot, wet mouths pressed tightly together, their hands slipping beneath their sweet, dainty petticoats and seeking out hosed, tightly panty clad, rubber-imprisoned sexes.
They totter towards the bed. Christina is amazed by the power of her sexual excitement and by her eagerness to make love to her beautiful she-male friend. Yet just as they are about to fall together onto the small, single bed that had been such a deeply erotic prison for them both, they hear voices in the corridor. Suddenly terrified, they rapidly part and stand to pretty sissy attention. Then Helen enters the room, followed by Anne, the stunning, ice-blonde Ingrid and, to Christina’s surprise, a tall, handsome black man carrying a large black leather travelling bag
The sissies curtsey deeply, both making an almost helpless point of showing off their delicately hosed thighs and pretty, befrilled silk panties.
‘Meet Christina and Annette,’ Helen says, turning to the man.
He is dressed in a very tight pair of black leather trousers and a sleeveless black cotton T-shirt. His broad, muscular arms and firm, flawless torso betray a highly trained, athletic build. Strangely, he beholds the two she-males with a relaxed, yet clearly impressed gaze and a rather warm smile.
‘Ladies,’ he says in a soft, deep American accent.
The two sissies respond to his greeting with another deep curtsey and his smile widens.
‘Annette, Christina,’ Helen says. ‘Meet Bentley. He’s a friend of Ingrid’s, and he’s very kindly agreed to help us out with the photo shoot. Bentley is a professional master, who caters for men and women with a submissive streak. A bit of an expert, I understand.’
Ingrid is carrying a black leather hold-all and is already taking from it a very expensive Japanese camera.
‘We’re going to do a bondage shoot,’ Anne explains, as Ingrid begins to test the light in the room. ‘Basically, a damsels in distress scenario. This will make up the first pay gallery for the website: Sissy Maids in Bondage, Part One. We’ve already seen that Chrissie has rather impressive acting skills, and this will be a good opportunity for Annette to show us her abilities.’
As Anne explains the logic behind the shoot, Helen finds a chair in a corner and sits down to watch.
Bentley then opens his bag and takes from within it a thick roll of red masking tape and a long coil of thin white rope. Annette’s eyes widen with a mixture of horror and excitement and she looks from Bentley to Anne, her concern all too apparent.
‘Don’t worry, Annette,’ Anne says, her tone surprisingly gentle. ‘Bentley knows what he’s doing. He won’t hurt you unless you want him to.’
‘We’ll start off with Christina being captured,’ Ingrid says, moving around the two sissies with the camera. ‘A simple scene. Christina is working, then Bentley the burglar sneaks in and overpowers her. She is tightly bound and gagged and put onto the bed. Then he is interrupted by Annette, who soon finds herself joining her pretty companion. Then Bentley decides to have some fun with his captives, stripping them down to their undies one at a time and then tying them together on the floor, before robbing the house.’
Annette watches in amazement as Christina is thrust before Ingrid’s camera and immediately begins to pretend to be making the bed. After a few minutes the striking figure of Bentley enters the range of Ingrid’s camera. Christina has been filled with a strange, deeply masochistic excitement ever since the nature of the scenario has been explained. As she pretends, rather convincingly, to be concentrating on straightening the covers of the bed, Bentley slips behind her and then, in one quick, balletic gesture, slips a large, elegant hand over the sissy’s pretty, red-lipped mouth. Suddenly locked tightly in Bentley’s relentless embrace, his hot, hard body pressed tightly against hers, Christina feels a delicious sense of helplessness, and almost swoons in his grip, but at the same time she is very much aware of her role as a damsel in distress and begins to struggle vainly in Bentley’s powerful grasp and squeal fearfully into his huge hand. This hand is suddenly replaced by a pair of white, heavily scented panties, which are pushed deep into the sissy’s willing mouth. Ingrid is now standing directly in front of Christina and the camera is clicking away insanely. Christina widens her eyes and produces a very convincing look of sheer terror, squealing helplessly. Then a thick strip of red masking tape is spread over her lips and she is completely silenced. Next, she is pushed forwards onto the bed and her arms her forced behind her back. As she struggles, her petticoats and skirt rise up her hosed thighs to expose her panty-sealed bottom. Then, to her shock and deep, deep pleasure Bentley, holding her wrists together with one hand, begins to gently caress Christina’s exposed bottom.
‘My, my,’ he whispers to her, ‘you really are a sexy little sissy, Chrissie. We really do need to get to know each other much better.’
And as he teases her, the camera captures every melodramatic, intensely erotic moment.
Then her wrists tightly are lashed together with the rope, followed by her elbows. Soon she has been dragged across the bed and her ankles and knees have also been tightly bound. Finally, a longer length of the rope is used to tether her ankles to her wrists and leave her in the tightest, firmest hog-tie she has yet experienced. She tries to fight the bonds and squeals fearfully into the fat panty-gag; she rolls precariously from side to side, she revels in her role as the sissy maid captured and tethered by this handsome, sinister man.
Then it is Annette’s turn. As Christina’s struggles are so convincing, Annette is ordered by Anne to enter the scene, to pretend to interrupt Bentley’s wicked work. Suddenly, the pink maid is also locked in the man’s powerful, unyielding grasp, her mouth sealed by his huge hand. Suddenly she too is squealing and struggling. In a delightful moment, she is pulled off her feet and carried across the room to the bed, her heeled legs wiggling helplessly, to join her helpless sissy sister in bondage, Ingrid following every movement, taking hundreds of pictures.
As Annette is bound and gagged in exactly the same manner as Christina, her eyes widen with mock fear, her arousal not very effectively concealed, Christina’s eyes wander over to Helen, sitting very still in the corner, her own eyes never leaving this kinky spectacle, her excitement mixed with a cool, careful calculation.
Then Annette joins Christina. Both are carefully positioned across the width of the bed, their lovely heads resting over the edge. Side by side once again, they are forced to look down at the floor as Bentley towers over them, his leather-clad crotch only inches from their sissy faces.
‘Great, fantastic. I’m sure I’ve got loads of excellent shots,’ Ingrid says.
‘I suggest we retire for tea,’ Helen responds, her voice cool, amused, perhaps aroused. ‘Let’s say a thirty-minute break, then we can start on part two.’
‘What about the young ladies?’ Bentley asks, his soft voice betraying a genuine concern.
‘Leave them there,’ Anne says. ‘They love being tied up together.’
And so the two lovely sissies are once again left on the bed, bound, gagged, both in a state of severe sexual arousal. And here they stay for some forty minutes, moaning helplessly into their inescapable gags, struggling against the expertly secured bonds with no hope of or wish for escape, both eagerly awaiting the return of the dashing, powerful figure of Bentley.
Despite her intense arousal, Christina finds herself slightly tormented by guilt. The implications of the effect Bentley and Annette have had on her are obvious: a deep vein of homosexual desire has surfaced with the full expression of her masochistic femininity. Yet her desire for Donna, indeed for all her mistresses, is still burning strongly. So it is now clear that Christina is a fully bisexual transvestite, something that she may have known for much longer than she now cares to admit. And while this revelation brings some guilt, it is a guilt that is totally overwhelmed by the power of her desires and the intense pleasure they are bringing her.
By the time the mistresses and Bentley return, the two she-males are writhing with an almost uncontrollable masochistic pleasure. As Ingrid takes up her camera once more and Helen retakes her seat, Bentley leans down by his two captives and smiles at them.
‘Are you ready for some more fun, girls?’ he asks.
The two sissies nod their heads and squeal furiously into their panty gags, their legs and heels pulling and pushing against their tight bonds with a furious, desperate sexual need.
Bentley then begins to untie the two she-males, eventually leading them both, still tightly gagged, to the centre of the room.
‘Take off your pinafores, dresses and bras,’ Anne orders as Bentley regards them with amusement and a very real hint of arousal, his eyes particularly attracted to the quivering form of Christina, who finds herself staring up at him with shy, girlish eyes filled with a burning desire.
The she-males strip as instructed as Bentley takes more lengths of rope from the leather bag.
‘Now, I want to see fear,’ Ingrid says, once again beginning to snap picture after picture. ‘You have been stripped and revealed to be sissy she-males. What will this dark stranger do to you? My God, he’s tying us up again! What is going to happen? Please don’t hurt us, we’ll do anything… anything .’
Ingrid’s dramatic direction provides suitable inspiration and soon the two lovely she-males are squealing fearfully into their tight, inescapable gags as Bentley begins to rebind their arms and legs. Within a few minutes, their arms are bound behind their backs at the wrists and elbows, as are their feet at their finely hosed ankles and knees. Swaying on their high heels, they wiggle and moan and then squeal with fear as Bentley gently guides Christina down onto her knees and then rocks her carefully onto her stomach. He then sets about resecuring the extremely tight, severe hog-tie and, once satisfied that the she-male has no chance of any kind of significant movement, tips her onto her side, all the while Ingrid’s camera clicking furiously above her. Christina watches in mock horror as Bentley then pulls Annette down to join her on the floor, and soon the two she-males are tightly hog-tied, resting on their sides and facing each other.
It is then that Bentley leans over Christina and begins to caress her thighs and panty-kissed bottom.
‘You’re very beautiful, Christina. I’m not too sure I can control myself much longer.’
Christina squeals with sissy pleasure that quickly turns into aroused shock as the gorgeous black man slips his hands into the waistband of her silk panties and then slowly eases them down to her bound, hosed knees. Then he carefully unrolls her tights and begins to slip down the black rubber panties that make up the first layer of sissy restraint. As he gently guides the panties over her buttocks and hips, Christina’s rigid, rubber-cocooned sex suddenly pops out. The sissy squeals with embarrassment into her scented gag, her excitement now almost unbearable. Soon the rubber panties have joined the tights and silk panties and Christina is watching as Bentley repeats this forced removal of underwear on the lovely, moaning, writhing Annette. Then Annette’s very long and rock-hard sex, also tightly rubberised, is revealed and Bentley lets out of whistle of amazement.
‘Zowie!’ he jokes. ‘Anne certainly is one lucky lady.’
As their sexes are exposed, Ingrid moves in very closely with the camera. The two sissies respond by writhing with mock fear and outrage, their terror-streaked eyes beautifully capturing the essence of bound and gagged damsels in some considerable distress. Yet their bondage ordeal is only just beginning, for Bentley has now produced the roll of red masking tape again and crouched back down over the sissies. Using his free hand he carefully pushes Christina towards Annette until their sexes are actually touching. Then, to the she-males’ genuine horror, he tears a very long strip of the wide tape from the roll and proceeds to wrap it very delicately, yet tightly around the two rubberised sexes, thus binding the two she-males very securely and intimately together. The two sissies squeal with a new, wild pleasure as another length of tape is torn free of the roll and added to their sexes, and soon their rock-hard cocks are sealed from base to tip with thick red tape.
So intimately bound together, the she-males’ struggles begin to take on a new, highly erotic form. Squeals turn to moans of pleasure as the bizarre reality of this odd bondage hits home. So tightly bound cock to cock, even the slightest movement forces their sexes to rub together in a very exciting way, effectively causing them to masturbate each other in their tight sissy bondage.
Smiling, Bentley leans forwards and pats both she-males on their exposed backsides, then he brings his head down very close to Christina’s.
‘Donna tells me you’ve got a very clever tongue, Chrissie, and a pretty arsehole. I intend to find out for myself after the party.’
Their eyes meet and poor Christina manages to force a stunned moan of deeply pleasurable apprehension from her fat panty gag.
Ingrid packs up the camera and Helen comes over to get a closer look at her bound and gagged slaves.
‘They look so sweet,’ Helen says to Ingrid.
‘Yes, Bentley has a way with bondage,’ Ingrid replies.
‘Let’s go and have a drink and talk about some other plans I have.’
The three women and Bentley then leave the room and Christina and Annette are left on the floor, trussed together by their sexes, squirming with a terrible pleasure in their tight, intricate bondage. Their eyes meet as they struggle and all each sissy can see is an aching, animal passion and a desire for it never to end.
* * *
The two sissies struggle passionately for nearly an hour, their eyes fixed upon each other’s bound, wriggling body, before Donna returns to the room. Dressed in a powder-blue silk suit consisting of a jacket and very short skirt, plus a semi-transparent white silk blouse, cream tights and powder-blue patent leather stiletto-heeled mules, she is a vision of dominant beauty. A huge smile lights up her face as she beholds the two tethered sissies.
‘Dear me, what’s happened here, then? A visit from young Mr Bentley, I think.’
Leaning down, she spends maybe ten minutes figuring out how to untie Annette, then very carefully peels away the tape binding the two she-males’ bulging, aching cocks together. Once freed, Annette is left to untie her sissy companion, who is clearly hurt that she was not the first to be released.
‘Don’t give me that sad little girl look, Chrissie,’ Donna snaps. ‘Bentley has told me about how horny you were around him. You little slut. Well, you can be as horny as you like tonight, because Helen has given you to him for the weekend. I’ve already told him about your oral skills, so I’m sure he’ll find plenty for that pretty sissy mouth to do.’
As soon as Christina is free, Donna insists they both strip down to their restrainers and then return to the shower. Here, under her strict supervision, they are made to wash and scent each other and then, once dried, they are returned to the elegant wooden dressing table, made to make each other up and then given fresh underwear. Within a surprisingly short time, they are both fully and very expertly made-up and perfumed. Donna then presents them with fresh rubber panties and two pairs of white nylon tights decorated with a striking silk lace pattern. The sissies slip into the tights with a sense of delighted expectation, already aware that they will have a very special costume for the impending party.
The tights are followed by two white rubber mini-corsets which Donna insists they secure as tightly as possible. These are followed by something quite surprising: pink satin, lace-befrilled Victorian-style bloomers, whose long, elasticated legs stretch down to the upper edges of their hosed knees. They are then given the two familiar silk bras, both very firmly and realistically padded. Next come two gorgeous pink silk camisoles, again heavily frilled with expensive white lace, which they are made to pull over their heads and stretch tightly over their feminised torsos and down to the waist bands of their bloomers. Yet this is merely the warm-up for the main attraction. For as the two sissies excitedly position the camisoles, Donna takes from the apparently bottomless wardrobe two spectacular dresses. They are also made of pink satin, but are covered in rows of darker pink silk and lace-intertwined frills that run in hoops around the dress from the very high neck down to the wide, yet quite short skirt. Donna hands the dresses to the she-males and watches with a smile of satisfaction as the sissies, wide-eyed with arousal, help each other into them.
The dresses, which are secured by a long row of white pearl buttons that run from the base of the torso section to the top of the high, befrilled neck, are a surprisingly tight and revealing fit, their wide, petticoat-laden skirts only just reaching the tops of their bloomer-covered thighs. It is only as the dresses are buttoned into position that the sissies notice that they are designed with a much longer rear section, which stretches down to cover their bottoms, thighs, and upper rear legs. And as Donna returns to the wardrobe, it is Christina who realises the dresses are in fact elaborate Austrian ‘milkmaid’ costumes, a realisation that is confirmed as Donna produces two wide-brimmed cream-coloured straw hats, hanging from each of which are two lengths of thick silk ribbon. Yet before the hats are fitted, she places them on the bed and helps Christina into her gorgeous Bettie Page wig.
‘You look incredibly sexy, Chrissie. Bentley will be so pleased with you,’ Donna teases.
Then, from Christina, a moment of madness. ‘But I still love you, mistress.’
There is a brief silence, Donna’s beautiful blue eyes momentarily filled with a strange mixture of anger and hurt.
‘I know,’ she says, finally. ‘And if you truly love me, you’ll do anything Bentley wants. He is a very important part of your training. If you’re going to be a proper sissy maid, you must be able to pleasure both men and women.’
Christina curtseys. ‘Of course, mistress. But I will never want to serve anyone as much as you.’
Then the briefest of smiles. ‘We can talk another day. Now put this on before I gag and spank you.’
Obeying without hesitation, Christina carefully rests the hat on her bewigged head and then Donna ties the two lengths of pink silk ribbon in a fat bow beneath her sweetly dimpled chin.
Annette is helped into her hat and Donna then leads the two lovely sissies to the bed. Here she reveals two pink shoe boxes, both of which contain a pair of spectacular ankle boots with five-inch stiletto heels, covered in a skin of white silk and with pink silk ribbon laces and a striking butterfly-shaped diamond buckle. The sissies help each other into the shoes while Donna returns to the wardrobe to retrieve two pairs of very beautiful white glace gloves. Once the sissies have secured their elaborate, sexy footwear, Donna stretches the gloves tightly over each hand and then secures them with a row of tiny silver buttons running along each wrist.
The she-males are then allowed to parade before the full-length mirror, once again marvelling in the shocking authenticity of their transformations and admiring the pretty, ultra-feminine clothing they have been forced to wear.
‘The guests will start arriving at seven,’ Donna says. ‘I want you to go downstairs and present yourselves to Helen. She will tell you what to do.’
Christina and Annette curtsey sweetly and mince in the lovely boots from the room. As they walk out into the corridor Annette whispers to Christina.
‘This is a dream, Chrissie. I never want it to end! Will you ask Mistress Helen if I can stay here, with you and…?’
‘And?’ Christina asks, a coy smile crossing her lovely face.
‘And Mistress Anne. She’s…very special. She did things that…that made me feel so…good. I want to be her slave. I want to stay and be her absolute slave.’
‘If I get a chance, I’ll ask Mistress Helen. But I’m sure she’ll want you to stay. And you know I want you to stay. They want us to be together.’
Then Annette takes one of Christina’s gloved hands in her own and they hesitate at the top of the stairs, facing each other with wide, ultra-sexed eyes.
‘I want you, too, Chrissie. So badly. But in a different way to Mistress Anne. I want…I want to be your lover and her slave. When we’re tied up together. God…it’s so sexy. And the restrainer, and the dildo. God, the dildo! Every step is heaven, every step is like making love with a man!’
‘Or a she-male?’
‘Yes! It’s like I hope it will be with us…eventually.’
Christina leans forwards and places a gentle kiss on Annette’s lips. Then the two sissies carefully mince down the steps to the living room to confront an utterly shocking sight.
At first, Christina thinks a third she-male has been brought along to the party; for before them is a tall, very shapely figure dressed in a black satin French maid’s costume, her back turned to the two she-males, her head bowed, as she stands before Helen and a smiling, or rather smirking, Anne. The dress is particularly short, with a very wide skirt attached to which is a thick ocean of very fine white lace petticoating. She has very long, curving legs sheathed in black silk, seamed stockings, legs that lead down to feet imprisoned in a pair of spectacularly high heeled, black patent leather court shoes. Over the sexy maid’s dress is the standard pinafore of white silk secured by silk ribbons tied in a very fat bow at the base of her spine. And over her short brown hair is a dainty maid’s cap.
Confused, the sissies curtsey in the doorway and await their instructions. And it is Helen who first notices them, Helen who stops her conversation with Anne and who then gestures for the two lovely she-males to come forwards.
‘You both look very beautiful,’ she says, her smile hiding some deeper, stranger meaning. ‘I’m sure you’ll both be shining examples to Katherine.’
And it is then that the third maid turns to face them and that Christina’s sexy mouth drops open in amazement. For standing before her is Katherine Grainger, once Chris’s disliked, plain and mean boss, now revealed as a beautiful, sexy woman in a particularly stunning French maid’s costume. Katherine’s face, expertly and heavily made-up, with blood-red lips, rouged cheeks and even a sexy beauty spot, betrays no recognition of Christina, but her acute humiliation is all too obvious.
‘Katherine has decided to come and join our growing staff of domestic slaves. It turns out that her interest in me is rather stronger than I thought, and that she’s quite prepared to do anything I tell her. That includes becoming my slave and falsifying medical evidence to ensure your resignation can be processed without returning to work.’
It is only as Helen exposes Katherine’s misbehaviour that the new slave finally understands who Christina actually is. Her own dark brown eyes widen in amazement; a very slight smile crosses her face.
‘Chris? This is Chris?’ she says, clearly amazed.
Helen laughs loudly. ‘Yes, it’s Chris. But we call her Christina now, and you’ve got a very great deal to learn from her…including when to keep your mouth shut. Anne, can you get the gag, please?’
A look of terror suddenly crosses Katherine’s face and she turns to Helen.
‘No, please…not that again. I’m sorry, mistress. It’s just the shock…I mean –’
The slap to her face is hard and fast and Katherine totters backward in shock. Anne then steps forwards and forces a very large, red rubber ball gag into Katherine’s mouth and buckles it tightly into place.
‘You’ll wear that for the rest of the evening. You can also expect a sound thrashing and some very tight bondage when we go up to my room later.’
Huge tears of despair begin to trickle from Katherine’s eyes and Christina now fights a cruel smile of her own.
As Christina and Annette are set to work, Katherine is made to stand in the middle of the room. Her hands are tied behind her back, then her ankles and knees are also tightly secured. Reduced to a spectacle of humiliation and utter subjugation, she is to spend the rest of the evening as a visual amusement for the guests, an amusement made even more entertaining as Anne subsequently steps forwards and hangs a white cardboard sign around her slender, pale neck. Printed on the sign in large red letters are the words PLEASE SPANK ME. A long leather paddle, attached to a silken cord leash, is then carefully tied around the unfortunate slave girl’s waist in such a way that there is just enough slack for the paddle to be picked up and applied to her befrilled bottom.
As Katherine sways helplessly, tears pouring from her eyes, Christina helps Helen set out a buffet of finger snacks on the dining table.
‘I want you to train Katherine, Chrissie,’ Helen says. ‘She has already submitted her own letter of resignation, although she will have to work her notice. She will be here most evenings and every weekend from next week. You will have complete control over her, including the right to punish her as you see fit. I suggest you take full advantage of this power.’
Christina curtseys deeply before the gorgeous, majestic mistress.
‘As you may have noticed, Bentley is rather taken by you,’ Helen continues. ‘In order to ensure his continued co-operation, I have given you to him for the weekend. Donna is a bit annoyed, but it’s all too clear you’re madly in love with her and she can see the entertainment value of your bisexuality. Anyway, you will spend the night with Bentley and do whatever he tells you.’
Again, Christina curtseys deeply. Helen smiles gently then returns to talk to Anne. A few minutes later Donna walks into the room, followed by Amanda and Lady Emily Ashcroft. The beautiful, very plump blonde mistress is dressed in a striking black silk trouser suit and a pair of very high-heeled boots. Her hair exploding over her broad shoulders, she looks every inch the perfect dominatrix. Lady Ashcroft is dressed in a black, sequinned evening dress and a pair of very high-heeled mules. And as the two beauties step into the room, Christina notices that both women are holding leashes attached to silver chains, chains which lead back to two particularly pretty pets. For tottering along behind them are Myriam and Lucy, thick black leather collars attached to their slender necks (to which the chains are firmly attached), dressed in matching red and black maid’s dresses (yet with Myriam wearing sheer nylon black stockings and Lucy wearing red silk, seamed stockings), both with their wrists lashed tightly behind their backs, both fitted with mouth-filling, blood-red rubber ball gags and both wearing impossibly high-heeled court shoes that match their stockings. The two tethered girls appear both angry and terribly excited, with Lucy particularly annoyed, her tear-stained eyes wide with both fury and a helpless sexual excitement.
Helen makes a point of introducing the two women to the tethered Katherine and there is much laughter and teasing at the maid’s expense, while the two other female slaves wiggle and moan in the back-ground.
Christina watches in amazement as Lady Ashcroft then slips the paddle from around Katherine’s neck and forces the squealing, crying woman to bend forwards, causing her pretty petticoats to ride up her long, hosed legs to reveal a white silk panty-clad and very shapely behind. As poor Katherine cries uselessly into her fat rubber ball gag, the sexy peer then proceeds to administer a very sound spanking with the paddle, applying at least twelve hard slaps before pulling the unfortunate woman upright.
‘Does it turn you on?’
The voice of Bentley, directly behind her. She spins around to face the tall, handsome man and performs a very deep curtsey.
‘Well,’ he continues. ‘Does it?’
‘Yes…very much,’ Christina whispers, her eyes cast shyly down at her feet.
‘Yes, what?’ he says, a slight annoyance in his deep, firm voice.
Christina hesitates, slightly confused, then understands.
‘Yes, master,’ she says.
Then his hand slips under her sissy chin and guides it up towards him. She is instantly lost in his dark, almost hypnotic gaze.
‘Would you like me to spank you?’
The poor sissy nearly collapses in the sex-heat of this bizarre, electric moment.
‘Yes, master,’ she gasps.
His smile broadens. ‘You look perfectly divine, by the way. The milkmaid costume was my idea. There are lots of other costumes I have in mind for you, as well. Now get me a drink.’
She curtseys again and minces into the kitchen, dizzy with the power of her arousal, stunned by her general reaction to this strange, beautiful man.
As she serves him a glass of golden Chablis, more guests begin to arrive, all female, mostly people she has never seen before. Friends of Helen, friends of Anne and Donna, friends of Amanda and Lady Ashcroft. By 7.30 p.m., there are maybe thirty people, all chatting, all desperate to meet the slave maids, she-male and female.
Listening to Amanda as she introduces Myriam and Lucy to the new guests, it quickly becomes apparent that the reason they appear so agitated is that both have been fitted with fully active vibrators in their sexes and their arses.
‘The girls were somewhat surprised when I told then that they were to be trained as “for hire” maids,’ Amanda explains. ‘So I thought a nice big gag and some sexual distraction would make their display a little easier.’
The poor girls are relentlessly teased and fondled by many of the women guests, and the sounds of their muffled whimpers of despair are intercut with squeals of pain from poor Katherine as guest after guest applies the leather paddle to her shapely behind.
It is nearly 9.30 p.m. by the time Helen steps into the middle of the room and gently taps a spoon against her glass. The guests immediately fall silent.
‘First,’ she says, ‘let me thank you for coming tonight. You’ve now met the she-males, Christina and Annette, and the female slaves, Katherine, Lucy and Myriam. And I can see you’ve all been very impressed. As you have seen, our two she-male maids are particularly gifted servants. They are able to provide a wide range of domestic services around the house. They are also experienced sex slaves and are always eager to demonstrate a variety of oral skills. The real girls are a new addition. All are currently being broken in, but they will join the domestic staff on a full-time basis within the month. For those of you who prefer the company of women, I’m sure we will eventually be able to offer three fully trained female submissives who are more than willing to meet your every need.’
Christina listens in confusion: it is almost as if Helen is advertising their services!
‘And that brings me to the reason for our little gathering. Tonight, I can officially announce the establishment of our domestic cleaning company: the Sissy Maids. A partnership between Amanda and myself, with generous start up finance from Lady Ashcroft, we will offer an exclusive, specialised service for the discerning lady in need of domestic assistance and related personal services. For a reasonable price, we can provide you with a fully trained, submissive maid, either she-male or real girl, for one eight-hour period once a week. She will clean, wash, iron and also meet your more intimate requirements. Hard-working, utterly submissive and expert in all household duties, she will provide the highest level of service.’
As Helen continues, a feeling of amazement overwhelms Christina. Suddenly everything begins to make sense. She has been used; after being quite deliberately selected, she has been developed and is now being sold as a commodity to make money for these beautiful, quite cunning mistresses. They have taken advantage of her she-male desires to start a potentially very lucrative internet site and now a cleaning business! This was why Helen was so keen to meet Annette; this was why Katherine, Lucy and Myriam have been brought along. These clever, gorgeous women have turned the sadomasochistic desires of their slave lovers into private enterprise!
It is then that she feels Annette at her side.
‘We’re being sold into slavery,’ she whispers, her hand brushing up against Christina’s bloomered thigh.
‘Yes,’ Christina whispers, her eyes glazed over with shock.
‘She knew I would stay. Anne knew.’
‘They know none of us will ever leave. They know we love our servitude.’
‘And they know we’ll love becoming domestic servants for even more women. They know we are prisoners of our desires.’
This secret discussion is interrupted by clapping. Helen then cuts through the crowd, which is now seeking out Anne to place initial ‘orders’ for the sissy maids.
‘I take it you approve of my plans?’ she says, beholding the two lovely she-males with stern, sexy eyes.
They both curtsey.
‘Yes, of course you do. Annette needs a little more training over the next few weeks, but you can watch as we, together with Christina’s help, prepare the real girls.’
More curtseys follow.
‘This is going to be a big change for both of you,’ Helen continues. ‘We will insist that you give up all aspects of your former life. Your jobs, your homes, your friends. Everything. You will sell your property and all your male possessions. You will transfer the proceeds from these sales into my company bank account, along with any savings or other monies. This will be used to finance your ongoing feminisation and to reimburse me for the considerable cost of your development so far. You will come to us with nothing but your desire. You will work for Sissy Maids four days a week, Monday to Thursday. On Friday you will be required to act in a series of videos we are developing as an extension of Anne’s website. There is a massive market for internet pornography, especially of the transvestite and sadomasochistic variety. We intend to establish a video library of TV Bondage scenarios and also a subcatalogue of straight and lesbian bondage stories featuring Katherine, Lucy and Myriam. We will stream extracts on the website and sell the full videos via a mail order service. Ingrid and Bentley will be instrumental in helping to expand this side of our business interests.
‘At weekends, you will be allowed to spend time with your personal mistresses, Christina with Donna, Annette with Anne. We have also agreed that Christina can spend every other Sunday with Bentley at his home. The Sissy Maids will officially open at the beginning of next month. We will begin the first video shoot at the end of next week.’
The two lovely sissies stare at Helen in utter amazement.
‘I take it you agree to the terms I have laid out?’
Without a second’s hesitation, they both perform deep, eager curtseys.
‘Good. Now, Annette, Anne wishes to speak to you. And Christina, I believe Bentley is waiting for you in one of the guest rooms.’
As Annette minces away into the crowd, Helen takes Christina to one side.
‘You have come a very long way in a very short time, Christina. I’m very proud of you.’
Christina smiles and curtseys.
‘But you should know that I wish to make even more fundamental changes to you. I have consulted a leading plastic surgeon concerning cosmetic surgery and breast implants. I intend for both you and Annette to be physically transformed into living sissy dolls, the only remaining evidence of your true sex being your genitalia. If all goes well, you will soon have forty-inch breasts and a sex-bomb body designed purely for pleasure. I will talk to Annette later, but I need to know now that you will co-operate with this transformation.’
Stunned, Christina stares up at Helen as if at a divinity and then whispers a muted, ‘I understand, mistress.’
‘But do you understand, Christina? Truly ?’
‘You can do anything to me, mistress. Anything.’
‘Good. Very good . Now go and take care of Bentley.’
Christina curtseys and wiggle-minces from the room, her sissy mind spinning with the incredible revelations of the last two hours. Eventually, she finds herself standing outside the door of the room where Bentley is staying. It is now nearly 10.30 p.m. and the lovely she-male knows she has a long and exciting night ahead of her. She knocks nervously on the door and Bentley’s soft voice responds.
‘Come in, Christina.’
She opens the door and steps into the room, her heart pounding in her sissy head, her sex burning into its tight rubber prison, her buttocks pushing down hard on the rubber phallus positioned deep in her anus.
Bentley is sitting on the bed, wearing only a pair of black cotton underpants. His hard, muscular body is a shock and a delight to the mesmerised sissy; so is the huge erection clearly visible through the underpants as he climbs from the bed and walks towards her.
She curtseys before him and a warm smile spreads across his handsome face.
‘You look stunning, Chrissie. I can’t believe you were ever a man.’
He then takes Christina by the hand and leads her to the large double bed. He sits her on the bed and then takes her face in his large, elegant hands. He then leans forwards and places a soft, gentle kiss on her quivering sissy lips and she falls into his powerful arms.
He guides her back onto the bed and carefully removes the straw hat, allowing her long, thick hair to fall over the silk pillows. She watches with helpless fascination as he then kneels over her and pulls down his underpants to reveal a huge, stiff, very dark sex, a symbol of profound masculine power that sends a shockwave of submissive pleasure through her lovely form.
‘Turn over, Chrissie,’ he orders.
She turns onto her stomach and his hands wrap around her waist. Then she is being pulled up onto her hosed knees so that her bottom is presented directly to his rampant sex. She moans with pleasure as she feels his gentle hands work down the bloomers, then the tights, then the rubber pants. She wiggles her shapely naked bottom and gasps as his hand disappears between her buttocks and then slowly, lovingly pulls the phallus from deep within her anus. Then he parts her legs. After a brief pause, she feels a greased finger slip into her anus and begin to lubricate its velvet walls. She squeals with pleasure and wiggles her sexy bottom even more desperately. He then removes the finger and it is quickly replaced with the tip of his rock-hard cock. At his command, she tries to relax. Then he begins to push gently into her. Instinctively, she parts her legs further to accept his substantial sex. And very soon, it is slipping deep within her and she is moaning with a quite savage, wordless pleasure. Amazingly, at least three-quarters of his full length manages to enter her backside, a testimony to the effectiveness of the other anal intruders that have filled her arse over the past weeks. Then he begins to pump, to set up a soft, easy rhythm, to fuck this sexy she-male.
Moans increase in volume. Moans slowly become cries, and soon Bentley’s own pleasure is being very vocally expressed. His hands grip her slender hips and he is soon driving hard into her. She loves every divine second of it.
When he comes, it is as if she has been given an enema of lava, his hot spunk quickly filling her arse with a brutal, percussive power. Yet even this is intensely pleasurable, and as his screams of pleasure fill the room, she pushes her arse harder against his cock. Then, spent, he withdraws from her and falls onto the bed. Almost immediately, she turns around and kneels down by his prone form. He stares at her in amazement as she then leans forwards and begins to lick the remaining tears of come from the head of his circumcised cock. The taste of the come, salty, hot, fills her with a strange arousal, an effect similar to that inspired by the taste of Helen and Donna’s most intimate regions and garments. And as she licks his cock clean, Bentley moans softly and begins to stiffen once again. As he returns to a fully erect state, she opens her mouth wide and lowers it over his cock, taking its impressive length deep into her mouth until the engorged head is pressing against the back of her throat. Then, using her tongue and lips, she begins to tease him back towards orgasm. His hands reach out for her head. He leans back and releases a low, hungry moan of pleasure. She feels him expand still further in her mouth, feels the central vein of his sex throb. Then his back arches and he pulls her head down hard on his sex. She feels his cock stab even deeper into her mouth. Then a powerful jet of hot come is crashing against the back of her throat, a jet she instinctively begins to swallow. As he bucks and cries out, she fights to keep his sex in her mouth and to consume the jet of thick come, ensuring that she drinks every last tasty drop and then siphons off the few drops still lingering around the fat, bulging head with her expert tongue. Then she too pulls away and collapses onto the bed beside Bentley, overwhelmed with an intense, deeply feminine sexual pleasure, her sense of delicious sissy submission complete.
Eventually, Bentley pulls himself up and kneels beside the exhausted, sated she-male.
‘Everything Helen said is true, Chrissie,’ he gasps, his eyes betraying both arousal and surprise. ‘But even more so. You’re amazing! That’s possibly the best blow-job I’ve ever had!’
Looking up at Bentley’s muscular frame with wide, baby girl eyes, Christina smiles. ‘Thank you, master.’
Bentley then leans forwards and kisses the gorgeous she-male, a long, intensely passionate kiss that produces a loud, girlish moan of pleasure.
Then he very gently and carefully begins to undress her, kissing each newly exposed part of her body as he does so, and soon she is naked on the bed before him, the tight rubber restrainer the only remaining item of body covering.
‘In a way,’ he says, running a long finger over Christina’s rigid, rubberised sex, ‘it’s a shame that you have to be restrained.’
Christina moans helplessly and arches her back as Bentley continues to tease her restrained sex.
‘Oh please, master – please let me come,’ she moans.
Bentley smiles. ‘No, not yet. Now bend over.’
In the next hour, Bentley fucks Christina twice more and insists she pleasure him orally a further three times. His incredible sexual stamina amazes her, and as she falls back onto the bed after bringing him to his sixth orgasm, the room is spinning and she is slipping into an exhausted, bottomless blackness.
A desperate, muffled moaning wakes her. Her eyes flutter open. She is still in the guest room, still on her back. The room appears empty, but there is still the sound of the moaning. She sits up. She is still naked. Then, she notices that the restrainer has been removed and her sex stands before her, fiercely erect and quite desperate, a burning tower of rigid flesh.
Then she turns towards the muffled moans and finds herself staring at Annette. Annette on the floor, dressed in a pink baby-doll, with matching self-supporting and seamed stockings. Annette face down, her arms bound tightly behind her back at the wrists and elbows with white stockings, her knees and ankles tied likewise. Her mouth sealed with red masking tape, her cheeks bulging with some hidden and very fat gag. Her eyes wide with desire and desperation, now staring angrily and hungrily at Christina. Then the trussed she-male rolls onto her side, to reveal she is wearing no panties, and that the rubber restrainer has also been removed from her sex. In its place is a very sheer white stocking, pulled tightly over its furious length and tied in place with a pink silk ribbon around her balls. Unrestrained, bound, gagged, she is a tightly trussed present for Christina, a fact made quite clear by the fact that around her neck is another cardboard sign, similar to the one that had been tied around Katherine’s neck, reading, SPANK ME FUCK ME.
Christina, her own sissy eyes wide with amazement, her own freed sex now so very, very hard, climbs nervously from the bed and kneels down before the squealing, wiggling Annette.
‘Well,’ Christina whispers, ‘what a pretty package.’
Annette squeals even louder and shakes her tightly sheathed sex at her she-male mentor and would-be lover.
Christina then leans forwards to pull the tape from Annette’s mouth, but the lovely sissy shakes her head furiously.
‘You want to stay gagged?’
Annette’s eyes widen further and she nods her head hopefully. Christina smiles tenderly and then sets about helping the lovely, tethered she-male to sit up, then very carefully she helps Annette to her bound feet. Guided by Christina, Annette hops to the bed where she is gently helped to sit down. Christina kneels down before her and begins to untie the ribbon binding the stocking sheath in place. Annette squeals with a desperate sex-fury into her gag, tears of intense physical pleasure now trickling from her eyes. It is clear she will come any second. Then, in a simple, sharp gesture, Christina pulls the stocking from Annette’s maddened sex and slips it into her mouth. Annette wiggles with an almost insane pleasure, her squeals now constant and very high-pitched. Christina grips Annette’s thighs to hold her in place while she licks and sucks on the redhead’s large, sleek sex.
Then Annette comes, an eruption far more powerful than Bentley’s, a vast explosion of desire that fills Christina’s mouth with thick, white come, which she drinks like the sweet sex-honey it most surely is. As Annette comes, she bucks and wriggles and squeals and Christina fights to hold her in place. Then, after a seeming eternity, Annette relaxes and the flow of come ceases. Christina leans back, gasping for breath, and Annette collapses back onto the bed.
Now it is Christina’s turn to experience the pleasure of orgasm. Annette’s come trickling down her chin, she climbs onto the bed and turns Annette over onto her tummy. She then pulls Annette up onto her knees, leaving her buttocks helplessly and beautifully presented. Throwing back the short hem of the baby-doll, Christina then administers twelve very hard slaps to the she-male’s sexy bottom, quickly turning it a very dark shade of red. After the spanking, Annette squeals with a heady mix of pain and pleasure, shaking her crimson arse as if begging for more. Christina unties her ankles and knees, then spreads her legs wide apart, pushing Annette’s face deep into the silken covers of the bed. As she suspected, the large dildo has been removed from Annette’s anus and a dark tunnel of love awaits her exploration.
She then carefully slips her cock between Annette’s legs. The redhead releases a series of desperate, excited and extremely well-gagged squeals as Christina then pushes deep inside her. Soon, she has managed to slip her entire sex inside her captive lover and is establishing a slow, sexy rhythm. In response, Annette pushes her buttocks back against the probing cock to maximise her own pleasure.
It takes only a few minutes for Christina to explode inside Annette, her screams of pleasure as she comes almost rocking the walls of the guest room. A blinding, almost cosmic light of pleasure washes over her; every muscle in her body tightens. Then spent, freed of the physical urge that so dominates her sissy life, she relaxes and falls back onto the bed once again, a river of thick come trickling out of Annette’s well-stretched arse and down her shapely she-male thighs.
Annette purrs like a large, sexy panther and rolls onto her side, her own sex once again rock-hard. Christina turns her head to stare at Annette, then she leans over and quickly tears the strip of tape from her lips to discover a pair of Anne’s black silk panties rammed deep inside her mouth. After pulling the panties from her mouth, Christina places a soft, teasing kiss on the bound she-male’s velvet lips.
‘That was wonderful,’ she whispers. ‘I can’t wait to do it again. But this time, you suck me off.’
Annette smiles and nods.
‘It seems such a shame,’ Christina then says, taking Annette’s large, hard cock in her girlish hands. ‘To keep this restrained.’
‘Mistress Anne has insisted that I be permanently restrained. Tonight is a special treat and, if I behave myself, she might let me go unrestrained for one night a month, when we will be allowed to make love,’ Annette responds, a look of serene acceptance washing over her lovely face.
‘You like her that much?’
‘Yes. But it’s not just like. I can’t explain it. The first time I saw her, it was something like love. But more than that. She’s the woman I’ve always wanted to be with. The perfect, all-powerful mistress. I worship her. But it won’t come between us. Anne’s very, very keen that we – you and I – remain lovers. The plan is for us to share this room permanently on week-nights. But we will be bound and gagged and fitted with the fattest vibrators imaginable. It’s so sexy. Just thinking about it drives me wild.’
Christina smiles, also terribly excited by the thought, yet also remembering that she will be allowed release at weekends in the loving arms of Donna and Bentley. She then sets about untying Annette’s hands and feet.
* * *
She wakes to daylight. Annette has gone and Donna is standing over her.
‘Come on, sleepy head. It’s nearly ten.’
Christina nods, mumbles a confused, ‘Yes, mistress,’ and climbs off the bed, soon standing to attention, after performing a deep, sissy curtsey.
Donna is dressed in a tight white sweater, a knee-length black skirt, black hose and high-heeled mules. Her lovely blonde hair is tied in a very tight, stern bun.
‘We’re going over to my house for a few days. To give you a break, before we start training the real girls and preparing you for your new career. But a working break, I’m afraid: there’s lots of cleaning, washing and ironing to do around the house. Plus there’s my body to take care of. I also want to introduce you to Lesley, my daughter. She’s heard so much about you, and I think she’ll rather like having a sissy maid to do her bidding. I think you’ll find a seventeen-year-old girl can be a very harsh task mistress.’
Elated, Christina curtseys eagerly.
‘Now get in the shower. I want you out here in fifteen minutes. Then I’ll make you up and get you dressed. I thought one of the outfits we bought at Amanda’s to start off with. But as soon as we get to the house, it’s straight into a maid’s dress. I’ve had a very special one made for your introduction to Lesley.’
Christina curtseys again, overwhelmed by shock and desire and wiggle-minces to the shower, her sissy heart pounding with sheer joy. As she slips beneath the hot shower, as she soaps her silken, sissy body, a body soon to be blessed with large breasts and wide, shapely hips, as her sex strains, knowing it will soon be tightly sealed once again an unyielding rubber prison and buried in the soft folds of silk, nylon, lace and satin, she feels a sense of complete peace. All her dreams have been made reality. She is to become a professional sissy maid, a web fetish model, a dream image of forced feminisation whose every breath is the glorification of the ultra-feminine and the affirmation of an absolute dedication to serving womankind in the softest of sissy fabrics and the tightest of bondage. She is surely in heaven, a glorious, unending and relentlessly exciting silken slavery.
The wedding was held in Helen’s house, nearly three months after she had announced the formation of the Sissy Maids. The service, conducted by a local Registrar close to Lady Ashcroft, and a regular customer, was a relatively modest affair attended by only the close-knit group of women who had come together to form the Sissy Maids and its sister internet company, Christina’s Silken Slavery. As well as these women, there was one man and there were the slaves, three female, two she-male, four acting as bridesmaids, and one playing the role of the bride.
The women gasped with surprise and admiration as Christina was led into the room by Bentley. Her beautiful, intricately made up face was hidden behind a scented veil, a face with very large, baby blue eyes and the sweetest, sexiest pink petal lips, a stunning doll’s face produced by her own natural beauty and a series of carefully planned visits to a leading cosmetic surgeon. An incredible white satin wedding dress covered her stunning figure, a dress with a very tight bodice section decorated in pink silk roses that led down to an open front section of white rubber which revealed the longest, sexiest of legs sheathed in cream silk tights and, perhaps most amazingly, her stiff sex held in a white nylon codpiece attached to the white rubber front panel by a length of pink satin ribbon. Sown into the silk tights was a pattern of beautiful roses that seemed to climb up her legs from her feet, which were clad in gorgeous white silk-covered ankle boots with amazing six-inch stiletto heels, to the very edge of the rubber front piece. The tight bodice section of the dress was deliberately designed to show off her full, generous bosom, a bosom she had only recently come to terms with. Two delightful, forty-inch breasts, testaments to the genius of plastic surgery, now filled her deceptively gentle silk brassiere, and as she minced forward they bounced gently before her. The breasts, the work on her face, her wider, sexier hips and the delightfully high-pitched baby girl’s voice that was now her permanent companion were the most visible testaments to the changes she had been subject to in the last three months. Yet there were also unseen changes, such as the hormone therapy that had left her in a state of constant sexual excitement, thus continually erect, endlessly desiring and always desperate for the intricate feminisation, humiliation, bondage and sexual slavery that were her daily lot.
As she followed the temporary aisle between the two sets of seats filled with the few special guests, the train of the dress, a long sheet of shimmering white silk that led from the rear of the bodice like a vast fetishistic tail, poured out behind her, a train held by two of the four bridesmaids, Annette and Katherine.
They, like Lucy and Myriam, were dressed in very short pink silk dresses that barely reached the tops of their thighs, pink nylon tights and pink patent leather court shoes with testing five-inch heels. They too were veiled. The tight dresses revealed their full, sexy figures perfectly, including Annette’s also recently added forty-two-inch chest. The veils only partially hid the fact that each of the bridesmaids’ mouths were filled to bursting point by huge pink rubber ball gags, while deep within their arses were six-inch vibrators that were sending waves of almost unbearable pleasure coursing through their scented, silken bodies.
Bentley led the lovely she-male bride to the Registrar, a portly, stern women in her late fifties. Christina had spent the night with her handsome master and her bottom was still smarting from the hair brush spanking he had given her earlier that morning, just before she had been dressed by Helen and Amanda, a spanking given and received out of a genuine erotic love.
Standing beside the Registrar was Donna, and next to Donna was Helen. Donna dressed in a blue silk trouser suit, a cream blouse and blue leather court shoes. Donna with her hair in a very tight bun and with a loving smile lighting up her beautiful face. Donna, the lovely, happy and very proud groom.
Christina nervously took her place next to Donna. The couple then faced each other, their eyes filled with love and desire, before turning towards the Registrar. In a few minutes they would be married, in a few minutes the final dream would be made reality and reality itself would be the most perfect, boundless fantasy. As tears of joy trickled down Christina’s softly rouged cheeks, as the gagged bridesmaids moaned their own joy behind her, as the seated guests, including Anne, Amanda, Lesley (Donna’s beautiful teenage daughter, another particularly stern and inventive mistress) and Lady Ashcroft (Christina’s most regular and demanding customer) looked on with their own encouraging smiles, the lovely she-male knew her life was complete, that she had everything she could ever want and much, much more.