I got what I wanted.....
Well, I got what I wanted. So I can hardly complain. The truth is that whilst I am in pain, am constantly teased and tortured, I enjoy it and even need it now. My wife, my ex-lover, is now my Mistress. I have become her toy and have no mind of my own. For her, I have ceased to exist for my family and have become the person of my Mistress's choosing. I do as my Mistress wants and will obey her every command. It's a long story, and I must start at the beginning. Mistress has commanded me to describe every detail of our life together so that it may serve as a lesson to others.
I met Connie at University when I was 21 years old. She too was 21. The first day I saw her, I knew I had to have her. I followed her everywhere and imposed myself on her. Over the next year it was hard for me to concentrate on my finals and did not leave me much time for fun. But with Connie's encouragement, I concentrated on my psychology major and rushed to get through my finals: my prize and reward was a week in Miami with Connie at her parents holiday home..
Connie was a little older than I, but infinitely more wise than I and came from Ireland originally. The red hair and clear blue eyes with a light splattering of freckles gave her an undefinable quality of innocent maturity. I was captivated by her smile, her light Irish brogue and sense of humor. Her deep throaty voice fascinated me. She was 5.2" tall and with an incredible waist of 21". In spite of this, she had a full bust and long slender nails. She had never spoken much of her family and I gathered that she had come over to study and get a degree in Biology. She was top of her class and well on the way to a First Class Degree.
Exams finished we both looked forward to the week with her before I went back to my parents on the West Coast. I longed for the opportunity to be with her. She had gone ahead of me twenty fours earlier and as my plane descended I looked forward to meet her at the airport.
She greeted me with a big hug and a kiss on the cheek and withdrew a little as I tried to place my hand in hers. She took me to her huge American car and it was funny to see this wisp of a woman in a huge car. I tried to plant a kiss on her lips and she deftly avoided this and laughed me off. She laughed all the way to the beachside bungalow.
She showed me my room and as I tried to grab her she ducked out and left me to get changed. I had a quick shower and could hear her singling softly in the kitchen. I crept behind her and grabbed her and gave her a tight squeeze. As she protested I gave her a big kiss on the mouth and silenced her protests. She struggled but I managed to hold her whilst i tried to work my tongue down her throat. As I held her firmly, her protests ceased and I took this as a positive sign. As i let her go I saw tears in her eyes and wondered if I had gone too far. I released her quickly and waited for her to calm down. She cried silently as I apologized and waited for her gather her thoughts. Something wasn't right.
She was preparing the meal and I let her go - reluctantly. Her eyes were red and whilst not sobbing she was silently laying the table. I couldn't understand the problem and all my attempts to talk were met with silent responses. She put the food on the plate and whilst I ate she picked at her food. I was appalled at her reaction and couldn't understand the problem. I finished my meal and took my plate to the kitchen whilst she sat pensively at the table. She seemed to be lost and was making up her mind on something.
"Sorry, Stuart," she said at last." I'm truly sorry....."
"For what ?" I asked still not sure of myself...I wasn't sure if I had done something or if she had been reminded of something. In this idyllic setting it was too much not to be able to share my happiness at being with her.
"Stuart," she started, "there's something you must know...I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before...."
"What is it ?" I almost yelled. She was talking in riddles. I could not understand her reaction and was beginning to wonder what I was doing here.
"Sit down, Stuart," she said and motioned me to the sofa as she got up from the table and sat in an overstuffed chair. "I'm sorry if this will come as a shock to you but I am not who you think I am..." The riddles continued....What was this supposed to mean ?
"For God's sake," I yelled, " just tell me what it is, will you ? I don't understand a thing!"
"Well, here goes," she said. " I got you here under false pretenses. As a young girl I was raped by my uncle and since that time I have been unable to enjoy a man's touch. It took all I had to leave my family and come here to study."
Great sobs racked her body as she explained her story to me and why she couldn't have a relationship with a boy. She explained that she had tried but felt sick each time and just now had been no different. The one time she was at peace was in a relationship with a girl. They had been brief lovers and she had hoped that with me she would overcome her innermost feelings. She explained how her uncle had beguiled her to his house, forced her to take his penis in her mouth, taken her virginity and also penetrated her anally. It appeared to be a torrent of feelings that gushed out as she gave in to her emotions and expunged the memories from her mind.
I reached out to her and grabbed her hands and tried to say that it was OK. I understood her reactions, I wanted to kiss away those tears, erase the pain from her mind and help make things better. Whilst it would never be OK, I felt that with time I would be able to overcome her inner pain. I had read the theory in the books and felt now that I could impart some scholarly advice to her. I held her hand and suggested a walk on the beach to which she readily agreed. We walked and talked and as we returned a few hours later she seemed drained but relieved that it was out. I tried to be sympathetic and whilst the "brain" between my legs wanted to dictate otherwise, my superior brain controlled my urges and insisted I go slowly...I held her hands, gave her brief hugs and told her I was her best friend and thanked her for sharing her pain with me. I was flattered that she valued my friendship to the point that she wanted to disclose her past. That first night ended early for her as I wrestled with how to deal with her problem and make the "pain between my legs" better. I had waited too long to be thwarted now, but knew I would need to be patient in order to win her over.
A myriad thoughts went through my mind. But I couldn't focus on any thought and think it through. I too was unsure and my motives here were less than pure. By morning i had spent a lonely restless night and still was no further to a solution. In my restlessness, I turned on the TV and flicked through the various channels. A talk show was talking about fear of claustrophobia, and how with expert help, the patient had been able to over come her fear and lead a normal life. The message seemed to be to relive the scene and do this with a trusted friend so it expunged the bad memories and made theses thoughts easier to live with. In time it would be easier and possible to lead a normal life. That's when I got the idea in a flash of inspiration.
Connie did not appear to be awake as I made coffee and ate some cereal. i decide to shower and change and when I was done, Connie too appeared. A red rim around her eyes gave away the events of yesterday, but she appeared calm and ready to start where we so interrupted. She came over, gave me a quick hug and thanked me for being her friend.
"Connie," I said, " I have an idea. This experience will be with you through all your life and it will be hard to get rid of it without some help. I think you need to reenact this nightmare and live out this fantasy ..." I explained to her what I had in mind.
"That's ridiculous," she said, "it would never work..." But I could hear the curiosity in her voice. I did not want to press her so i just left it for a while as we decided to go to the Mall for some things she needed. She drove in silence and I could see that she was deep in thought.
We made the purchases and I invited Connie for a coffee. As we sipped our coffee, Connie broke from her reverie. "Did you mean what you said ?" she asked shyly. She couldn't keep the uncertainty out of her voice.
"Of course," I replied. "Isn't that what real friends are for..besides...." I left the thought unsaid. I did want her to get over her problems so that I could have a normal relationship with her. Her story had only highlighted her deep-rooted emotional hurt, and no relationship of a physical nature was possible until she had tried to heal the wound.
"Friends...well, there are friends and friends," she replied. "I know many who would not share with me their experiences...yet, you kind of allowed this monster to come out.."
She was shy but felt relieved after she had said it. I was glad I was the catalyst. Besides, it would be a real turn on for me...
"OK. Just wait here for me, will you ? I won't be long." she disappeared with a wiggle of her sexy behind. I drooled after her as she disappeared into the drugstore, ordered a coffee and waited for her return. She took almost half an hour and I saw a flush of excitement in her cheeks. She carried several bags in neutral design, and this piqued my curiosity.
We drove back in silence, unpacked the things from the car. It was around two p.m. and we had nothing planned. I wondered what was coming next when she came upto me and pressed a small package into my hands.
"If you are serious, Stuart, have a shower, will you ?" she asked not looking at me. I did not wait to be asked twice I rushed to the bathroom and wondered where she was going with this. I didn't have to wait long for the answer as she entered the bathroom after me. I smiled in anticipation as she made to soap my back. "Now close your eyes and enjoy..."
I felt the soap spray on my back and enjoyed her massaging this into my back and shoulders. Now for the front. I turned around displaying my glory. She did not look at the growing tumescence of my tool, but sprayed the soap over my face, neck, chest and underarms and made a good job of rubbing it in all over. She took a long time and i was disappointed that her hands did not go to the most obvious spot although she did rub the soap into my testicles and in my crack. I turned around and rinsed my body thoroughly and couldn't wait to open my eyes. I turned the tap off, grabbed the towel and wiped my face.
As I toweled off I felt a difference but did not comprehend the new sensations on my body. The condensation covered mirror and did not yield any clues. I then looked down and saw a completely hairless body...what had she rubbed on my body ? Must have been a depilatory of some kind i mused. A little strange but this was OK. It felt good. I rubbed some lotion over my chest and arms and admired my now smooth body in the mirror. Wrapping the towel around my waist i entered the bedroom. On the bed were several packages. A note on the bags told me to dress in these.
I looked inside and saw the most gorgeous array of feminine underwear I had ever seen. I admired the color and the texture of the material before it struck me that I was supposed to wear these things. So she was going to play my game as I had suggested. That was great.
A corset, bra with fillers, garters, stocking and panties. A tight fitting mini skirt and pink tank top completed the outfit. I saw some shoes and a hat box. I was wrong: the hat box contained a red hair wig with a cascade of curls. I got so excited my hand went to my tool. Soon I was at full mast when Connie entered and saw my hands in action.. A grin spread on her face.
"Just be patient, dear." Her voice was calm and teasing. "We have some ways to go before you should get to finish...." Her voice left the thought trailing in mid air. "Sit down, we need to go through with this properly."
She turned me away from the mirror and proceeded to apply makeup to my face. I could see her apply some base, pat it dry with a powdered, then blush and eyeshadow. Lots of mascara and finally a lip coloring. I couldn't see myself but the thought of my transformation was exciting as hell. I felt her screw on some earrings tightly - a little too tightly I thought. Then she placed the wig on my head and started to brush it out and into shape. She told me to close my eyes and place my hands in my lap.
As I did this, I felt a pair of furry lined handcuffs attached to my wrists. Moments later, my legs were also shackled to the legs of the stool. I wanted to open my eyes but was afraid that this would spoil her surprise and fun and thus mine. I thus waited. I felt her playing with my fingers and was told in a stern voice that I was to keep my eyes shut and my fingers still. I complied. Finally a shoes were slipped onto my feet and whilst a little tight, i could feel that they had some three or four inch heels.
"Now stand," she commanded as she undid my leg shackles.
I opened my eyes, still unable to look at my transformation in the mirror. I stood unsteadily on the heels and stumbled as Connie grabbed my elbow and steadied me.
"Go easy. You can't dance in them - yet." It sounded ominous. What would come next.
"Turn around and look!"
I looked at the absolutely gorgeous babe in the mirror and wondered that it was me. I could hardly believe this. A tent was trying to erect itself in my mini but it was a small dent rather the giant erection I felt was growing underneath. Not for long. Connie grabbed my parts and gave the head a mighty squeeze that brought tears to my eyes. I opened my mouth in surprise and found myself impaled on a penis gag which she proceeded to tie tightly around my head. My hands were still handcuffed. My legs stood shakily on high heels. Where were my options.
"Stuart. Your new name is Claudine, from Claude my uncle. You will do EXACTLY as I say or I will ensure you will experience shame and humiliation as you have never known. Nod if you agree completely." The voice had acquired a new sternness that I had previously missed.
I nodded. I wasn't sure where this was leading. Although I had been the initiator of the idea, she had turned it into a dominant scene which I had not comtemplated. I wanted her to be at ease and be rid of her nightmare. However, I never intended that it would go to this length.
"Just admire yourself a little. I'll be right back". She closed the door and left me admiring a full titted babe, a little on the large side. My 5' 7" in barefeet now took me to over 6 feet in heels. My average male frame had been converted to a 40-32-38 figure. My face was a perfect mask of tarty femininity. Vivid blue shadow adorned heavy mascarad lashes. A bright dark pink lipstick was a perfect setting for my pink tongue. The overdone blush accented my cheeks. The pink tips at my fingers indicated one-and-a- half inch long false nails in a color to match my lips. the perfect vision of a blowzy tart whose every orifice was just waiting for penetration. The comforter, like penis gag, looked obscene in my stretched mouth. This was the image of the lowliest hooker, exhibiting her wares and leaving nothing to the imagination. I shivered in anticipation as I wondered at Connie's enthusiastic response to my suggestion. It appeared I was on the right track. Twenty minutes later - time does fly when you are admiring yourself - I heard the door open.
Connie had changed. She now wore a man's shirt and trousers. Had her hair plastered down with a kind of cream, and a fat cigar was clamped between her teeth at a rakish angle. I had never seen her smoke before and the determined clench of the cigar in her mouth caused me to think of something, just a little bigger, that would love to fit in there once this was over. I could imagine her in this position many years ago as her uncle must have approached her. I felt sorry for her, but on the other hand excited that I was to be a part of her catharsis.
"You're one hot bitch, Claudine." The voice was gruff. I could hear the excitement in her voice. "All dressed up and with nowhere to go ?"
I nodded. She clamped the cigar between her teeth, and blew smoke in my face. I couldn't even choke with he gag and felt ill.
"Kneel, bitch." She forced me down on my knees and on my knees I still came to her chest. She unplugged my mouthgag with a yank giving relief to my tired jaw muscles, and blew smoke in my face again causing me to cough and bringing tears to my eyes.
"Now undo my zip with your teeth," She loosened the flap button freeing the zipper tab.
I applied my tongue and got the tab between my teeth and finally managed to drag down the tab. A bulging crotch greeted me.
"It's time you learned to suck cock, slut." A monstrous dildo, perhaps eight inches long and two inches wide, in hard unyielding rubber, pointed at my mouth and without too much gentleness she rammed that dildo into my mouth. I had never had an object like that in my mouth and I gagged. She held my head and rhythmically moved her hips causing the dildo to massage my throat in agonizing slow fucks. I responded as best I could, salivating to ease the pain. The cigar was still clamped in her teeth and I felt ash fall on my face and lips as my sucking motion caused her hips to gyrate.
"SUCK !" It was spat at me through the clenched teeth. My aching jaws tried to accommodate the monster pounding at my throat, hard and unyielding. Through the ache, I felt my own tool at strain at its cloth restraints and I was going to come soon. I automatically moved my hips, even though I was on my knees, and Connie sensed this. She took the monster out of my mouth and helped me to my feet. She lifted my skirt, and massaged my tool, cupping the balls in her other small hand. I could feel her taking me over the edge as she milked me dry catching all the handful of come in her hand. With the other hand, she forced me down on my knees, and before long I felt the tool enter my mouth again. But this time with my cum on it for lubrication and taste. It was the first time I had tasted come - mine or anyone else's. But not the last time as I was later to discover. The fucking of my mouth continued for five minutes and then stopped. I was helped to my knees. My jaws ached, my calf muscles were sore and the scene was getting tougher.
"Turn, bitch," the voice uttered between clouds of smoke directly blown in my face. I choked. But turned around to feel Connie raise my skirt and stroke my rump. It felt good. It felt even better as her fingers probed my ass crack, and a slim finger entered my virgin hole. I sensed what was coming but did not know what to expect. She pushed down on me against the back of the sofa, as without warning she rammed the dildo into me full hilt. I screamed as a stuck pig at the massive violation to my posterior. The fucking continued for some time as my hole adjusted to the size of this plastic phallus. In spite of my pain I began to feel the things between my legs stirring again, a short while after coming and with no attention. Connie then withdrew slowly, and turned me around. Still handcuffed, with the hint of tears in my eyes, she pushed me onto the sofa on my back. Legs sprawling, I fell to the vision of this cigar-chomping vixen violating my every orifice. She went between my legs, raising them to her shoulders, and entered me again. I was uncomfortable now, almost doubled up, with the constrictions of the garters and corset biting into my flesh. As she built up a new rhythm I felt her stroke my cock, and within moments had pointed it at my open mouth as she fucked me. I came again, surprised by the amount that hit my tongue and face, and felt the slow withdrawal of the tool. She plunged it deeper one more time and I felt her keep it there, eyes closed and felt the shudder of her own orgasm. She withdrew finally and stepped off me.
"I'll be back," she said. "Don't go away, now." It was a tempting thought but where would I go and dressed like this ? Every bone in my body appeared bruised, but I knew that I had come as never before. The cigar was chewed to a frazzle, but was still firmly clamped between her teeth. It was a real turn on.
I wondered if this was a repeat of the indignity suffered by Connie at the hands of her uncle and hoped that this might help her develop a more normal relationship. I hoped so and if being violated was the price, so be it. I did enjoy myself to be honest and I wondered if I should tell Connie this. My thoughts wondered to how someone could possible violate a young girl and leave her with such emotional scars. I knew that this was widespread.
Connie entered the room again, changed back and with freshly scrubbed face. She sat beside me on the couch and without a word gave me a deep kiss, tongue deep in my throat. I strained to respond. Her mouth traveled to my shrunken member and I soon felt a wet mouth engulf it and try to breathe new life to it. Her tongue and lips worked magic as I felt another stirring of my sore member. I hope she wouldn't chew on this the way she had the cigar. Never had it risen to the occasion this often. Connie climbed on top facing me and impaled herself on my now semi hard tool. A gentle rocking and soon I could feel her juices start to flow. I moved in rhythm but she controlled the movements and soon I felt her going over the edge, a gentle smile with her eyes tightly closed. Soon, I too came for the third time and I knew that I had won the day...
Much later, we talked about the event. She was at peace. The experience had proved to be cathartic and even enjoyable. She asked me how I felt.
"Well, first I enjoyed the experience. I never thought I could come as I did." I didn't want to mention the soreness in my cock, hole and mouth.
"Was it a turn on, then ? Being raped like that, I mean ?"
I had to nod although I knew that it was also the circumstances that contributed to the experience. I know that with Connie I felt at ease and wanted to share her pain and if possible erase these memories from her mind. My professor would have been proud of my first analysis and treatment. " I can't say that being raped was a turn on. But I must confess that being fucked by you was a real turn on and being dressed to....frankly speaking."
"I could sense that. I saw the way your body began to respond. Would you do it again ? Dress up for me and be fucked again ?" A loaded question.
I nodded. For both this was a truly exhilarating experience and I hoped the start of a long relationship. I saw a gleam in Connie's eyes and a smile light up her face. She too had found a new enjoyment in life.
"I never thought that I would finally find some release from the past. Do you know what I mean ? "
I nodded again. "Anytime, it helps to talk or do, I'm your man. Or is it woman ?" I smiled conspiratorially at her. This was a dark secret that only I shared. I knew it was special to her too and that she would be scared of it being divulged to the world.
"I think that Claudine has a long and bright future, don't you ?" She smiled as she rubbed my crotch thereby growing that constricting bulge further. Her hands undid my zip and freed my tumescence. She rolled back the foreskin, exposing the head, and gave it a lollipop lick. Soon I was engulfed in her warm wetness and was in heaven. She could have had anything from me at that moment.
"You said you'll do anything for me ? Right ?" Her mouth was at the tip of my cock, teasing and I was not concentrating on her words, waiting for my own release.
"Of course," I managed to stutter concentrating on not coming too soon.
"Would you be my Claudine for the holiday ?" She began to lick again and took me all down her throat. Experience or not, she sure knew how to deep- throat.
"If it pleases you....I'll be Claudine for as long as you like...." I managed to whisper before I came in torrents and watched her suck every drop from me like a hungry pup suckles from its mother.
She leant over me and gave me a deep kiss and I felt the spunk being transferred to my mouth. She kept my mouth covered with hers so long that I had no choice but to swallow it. I knew the taste now, even enjoyed the thought of drinking my own juice.
"Good," she said allowing me to breathe again. "We'll start in the morning and you'll be mine for as long as I want."
I couldn't remember having promised that but it didn't matter. I knew she had by the short and curlies and so began my permanent transition to Claudine.
From then on, we lived isolation and Connie and I broke off all contacts to our family and friends. Her parents were probably glad not to be reminded of their daughter's experinces and family shame, and as for myself, whilst my family relationship was good, my mother and step-father lead their own lives and seemed happy with occasional telephone contact.
Some 18 months later, as I write the story according to the instructions given by my Mistress, I look back on how my life has changed. I sit at the computer typing this slowly, careful not to damage the 2" nails permanently glued to my fingers and painted a deep dark red.
Connie, I now call her Mistress, has caused me to change my life and live as the woman she wants me to be. I gave up my male life and became her toy-slave. In this process, I discovered how truly hurt she had been from the experiences with her uncle. I was glad to be a part of the therapy.
Some six months ago, Mistress married me in private ceremony, and took control of my worldly possessions. Over the last few months I had dropped out of sight. I had told my parents I would be overseas for some time and wouldn't know when I could come back. I called them sporadically.
For the wedding I was dressed as a glamorous bride. My figure was hourglassed, with a 25 " waist probably, from the tight lacing of the corset. For that day, my breats weren't taped. Mistress glued on two realistic looking breasts, with nice pointed nipples over my natural breast. They were well-shaped and looked real. Later I saw how they moved with my movements in imitation of real breasts. A natural base makeup, was applied to the edges of the prosthesis so that from even close they appeared real and natural. A half-cut , lace trimmed bra held them in place whilst leaving little to the imagination. I was the bride of her dreams. The short white dress, low and square-cut in the front, exposing my deep cleavage, just about covered my stocking tops and did little to hide my white stockings, garters and panties. My member, pumped dry a little while back, was tied down firmly between my legs. A lubricated plug, of average size, was inserted into my behind. A base area ensured it wouldn't disappear up my hidden canal. My figure a splendid 40 - 25 - 38.
My face was delicately made up, modest and demure. Mistress did my makeup today so that I would look my best. The same base makeup covered my face and neck, and blended naturally with the color of my skin. Translucent powder covered the base and gave it a silky smooth finish. Then she applied some pink blush over my cheekbones, sweeping it toward my temples. A nice natural blush. My eyes were heavily outlined with a fat kohl pencil. The line around my eyes, elongated at the outer corner, extended my eyes and accentuated them. Emerald green eyeshadow on the lower lid, blended into a lighter green on the upper lid, with a white highlight at the upper corner gave my eyes a wide-open look. Of course, the eyelashes were one-and-a- half inches long with lashings of mascara that reminded me of some drag queens I had seen a long time ago. My eyebrows, once natural and thick, were now gone. A new razor had taken off all my natural brow line and now a smooth, thin line was painted in curving down toward my outer lid gave me a truly feminine look - Marlene Dietrich style.
The lips, my new present from Mistress, were thinly outlined in black, emphasizing the cupid's bow. For a wedding present, Mistress gave me a new set of "lips". On the morning of the ceremony she took me to a clinic. I did not know at that time what for. I was told it was to be my present and a constant reminder of my new life and "wifehood". I discovered my present as I recovered from the anesthetic and felt a tingling in my face and on my lips. Mistress, my soon-to-be wife, hovered over me and with a great smile held up a mirror to my face. Full, pouty lips stared back at me: some material had been injected into my lips that turned my normal thin- lipped male mouth to a full-lipped Kim Basinger lipped beauty, with exaggerated cupid's bow, that just invited cock. It felt strange at first, but I could feel the difference later as my lips tasted cock for the first time after that operation. I felt fine otherwise and was released in a few hours. We made our way to the house, Mistress driving in silence, and I constantly wiped my bloated lips with my tongue not believing the tingles my tongue was sending to my brain. I couldn't get over the sensation. It was a cocksucker's dream! I had to get ready for the big event at four that afternoon. As I reflected now, the full lip area, almost three times the area of before, was filled out with a bright orangy red color. Three coats of this with two gloss ensured that I would keep the color on that pout throughout the action to take place.
I wore 5" white open toed pumps, with thin straps across my ankles, that increased my height to over 6 feet. My nails were painted a blood red over their two inch porcelain length, and my toes done to match. Open fingered lace gloves, white of course, came up over my elbows half way up my arm. I wore a ginger colored wig, matching the hair color of my Mistress, with masses of curls. The curls were swept back over the left side and pinned over my ear with a white flower attachment. My earrings completed my attire. The upper had the original diamond stud. The lower loops were now attached to a cluster of large imitation pearls, three heavy strands that tinkled with every movement of my head, and almost reached to my shoulder. Finally, a small hat, with stiff white half-veil, was placed on my head at an angle, giving me a truly waiting and feminine bridal look. I was a virginal bride waiting to be taken on her wedding night. A thin gold chain, with an ornament hung at the edge of my cleavage. The ornament was a miniature golden pacifier with an obvious penis-shaped object.
Mistress left me cuffed to the bed, a penis gag stretching my lips, whilst she got ready. A half hour later she came to escort me to the ceremony. Connie had dressed in top hat and tails, stiff shirt and bow tie. Ginger hair slicked down and combed back. White braces held up the pants and a white flower was pinned to the lapel. The freckles on her face, devoid of any makeup, showing her youth. Shiny dress shoes peeped from under the cuffs of her pants. Beneath her pants she wore a monster-bulge that I was to experience that night, and for many nights to come. I was scared as a bride would be on her wedding day. This is not how I imagined my wedding day. She lifted the veil, removed the penis gag and gave me a brief kiss on the lips. A trust me look in her eyes. She touched up my lips with lipstick and gloss, gave me a small purse with makeup , and pulled her hand through my hand and escorted me to the ceremony. I walked slowly, balancing on those thin heels, and feeling the plug move inside me.
The wedding had only four guests, none of whom I had seen before; four males, but two were in drag dressed as bridesmaids. They looked good, but I was definitely the star. They didn't have my figure, dress sense nor make- up. The ceremony was conducted in the living room, with a lay preacher that Mistress had found. He appeared to find the situation normal: after all he was marrying a man and a woman in genetic terms. Their dress codes didn't appear to concern him. The ceremony was brief, and as Mistress gave me a quick kiss, stretching on tiptoe, her other hand grabbed my crotch in a quick squeeze. I could see tears in the eyes of the "ladies" as they complimented me on my beautiful looks and dress and kissed me. their male companions likewise.
The wedding dinner was a quiet affair: the minister may have also been the caterer. Food was served, wine poured and I was given minuscule portions to eat. Not that I was hungry anyway. After dinner, the music started and Mistress asked me to dance - alone. i was center stage and I gyrated my hips as best I could. Every part of me was now alive: the movement causing my breasts to heave, the plug to move, and my member to stir. The muscles in my legs strained to keep me in balance as my hips swayed to the rhythm. I provided the later entertainment. Mistress ordered me onto the table onto all fours. As I knelt and leant forward on my hands - a position I had been in many times in the last few months, a line was formed to enter my mouth. I sucked off all four, including the "ladies" who raised their dresses to expose semi-erect members, on the table, whilst I got soundly fucked from behind by Mistress. My new lips felt different as I tasted the cocks. They slid in and out of my mouth like pistons in a well-oiled engine. My mouth now formed a perfect "O" for their rampant tools and I had little choice but to swallow all that was emitted by their willing members.. The plug had previously been removed unceremoniously and shown to the whole group. The two "females" appeared to be with the males as couples and I wondered where my Mistress had met them. I did not dare to ask. As a special treat toward the end of the evening, Mistress undid my thing and I felt some lips begin to suck. For ages the two "ladies" sucked at my thing alternatively until I came at last. I probably did not have much cum, but saw my lady friends exchange what little I did produce with a lingering kiss between them. The party was over by 10 p.m. and they left us alone, Mistress and me.
On our wedding night, my tired mouth sucked my Mistress's massive plastic penis until my jaws ached and was rewarded with a squirt of liquid that tasted like cum. As a special surprise, she had worn the black penis 9" in length and 4 " in girth, and my tired lips tried to take as much in as possible. I discovered that all four guests had given Mistress of their juice in a glass before leaving. An opening in the cock, when under pressure of a bulb like attachment, caused the cum to eject into the mouth much as an ordinary penis would. Needless to say, I also sucked my Mistress to multiple orgasms and got a final fucking in my cum-lubricated behind.
My figure - like my life - has changed dramatically. I am now tightly corseted and with a diet have been reduced to a permanent 25 inch waist. Mistress wants me to go to 24" and is working an even tighter corset and special diet to get me there. She has fun lacing me to this level each morning and takes special pleasure in bracing her knee against my back to lace it up tightly. She has also attached a bar to a frame in the spare bedroom which I must grab, stretching myself on tiptoe, until she has laced me tight. Additionally, she uses a surgical tape, wound tightly against my chest several times, to give me a definite cleavage. My breasts have developed under continuous massage and hormones and, for our first meeting anniversary, I underwent an operation to provide Mistress with breasts of a 42C cup. The oversized globes with large areolae center around my large pierced nipples through which I have gold rings. Mistress enjoys massaging my breasts at times, and at other times tweaking my nipples with their rings until it hurts.
Needless to say, my body is devoid of any hair. I shave my face twice a day and under my arms regularly and use a depilatory cream over the rest of my body. The hair around my pubis is shaped like a heart and I spend a lot of time to keep it trimmed and in shape. Mistress is considering electrolysis, but does not like the marks it can sometimes leave on the skin.
I have cropped my natural hair to a short crew cut. I wear the wigs in the shape and color that pleases my Mistress. Over time we have amassed quite a collection. From a demure blonde page-boy style, to a more raunchy punk style hairdo. I also have a ginger wig with a mass of curls and look like my Mistresses' sister. I wear whatever My Mistress decides is her mood.
The corset extends to my hips and are lately heavily padded to give me a full 40" hip. Overall my 42C-26-40, soon to be 42C - 24 - 40, shows the world what a dramatic woman I am. Mistress wants to grow my hips to this size - she likes to see me with a true hour glass figure - without padding and is working on ways to do this.
The thing between my legs was a problem at first. Now, after time, my testicles are always in their natural body cavity and my thing has a looped cord attached which draws it between my legs. The loops are then run through my crack to the top of my garters. When pulled through my crack, my shriveled member produces a small mound behind my tight panty girdle and But I have learned to minimize this by swinging my hips and changing my gait must thus sit to perform my natural functions and constant movement keeps my thing massaged. I must masturbate each morning and drink my cum. Any failure to produce cum is dealt with severely. Mistress thinks that I might be playing when she is out, and I must prove that I have been good. Before I put on my girdle, doubly difficult because of its size and my long nails, I must insert a butt plug into my puckered hole. My only lubricant is saliva. If Mistress is in a bad mood, she will do this herself and forget to use any lubricant. She will thrust it in causing me to forget my other pains.
My face is truly feminine. Mistress has kept my eyebrows shaved and likes them that way. I have perfect feminine arched brows, painted in a thin penciled line. My lashes are 1" long and heavy with mascara. The bottom lid is solid with a light green, and the upper lid with a light brown, highlighted at the corners with some white. A perfect setting for my blue eyes. The strong blusher is brushed high on my cheekbones, accenting my face and is a bright pink.
The mouth is outlined in a deep red-brown pencil, and then filled out with a frosted pink, covered with several coats of gloss that keep the color. Sometimes it is orange, or crimson or even black. It is an inviting cavern, dark and moist, and housing a clean pink tongue. My lips form a full sultry pout. It took me a while to get used to them. My Mistress says she loves the look of full frosted pink lips stretched around a cock. She has many photographs to evidence this. Each night my jaws are stretched by a monstrous dildo. Mistress says that practice makes perfect and I must learn to please with every orifice. I then must bend over and grab my ankles whilst Mistress straps on a dildo of her choosing. She has large and medium, black or flesh color, and depending on her mood will make it a gentle fuck or a vicious rape. Either way, she will fuck me till she is satisfied and comes.
My ears are now pierced in three places in a small arc. The top always carries a small diamond, a wonderful present from Mistress on our first anniversary. The center has a ring that wraps around the other side horizontally and is secured with a stud. The lower has a loop and attaches to a much longer, heavier and chunky chain that is always with strands that jingle as my head turns. Nothing pleases my Mistress than to hear that jingle as my mouth strains to take a large cock or when I am licking my Mistress to her climax.
During the day I normally wear a figure hugging tank-top, a different color for each day of the week, and without a bra. This causes my pierced nipple rings to be seen through the thin material. These pierced nipples are now fully healed and I can wear a ring or the bone-like ornament which hurts when I first insert it. I am sometimes attached to a chain and pulled by my nipples. Mistress likes me to have the chain at a party sometimes. A tight miniskirt which hugs my hips and just flashes my garters completes the outfit. Seamed stockings with perfectly adjusted seams adorn my legs. My feet are encased in 5" open-toed shoes with a strap around my ankle. My toe-nails are painted the same color as my nails. Walking was difficult at first. But after a year kept on these pencil thin heels, my calf muscles have adjusted to the height and I can now walk comfortably swinging my hips. As Mistress enjoys my dangly earrings, I am a jingle as I swing my hips to balance on the pencil thin heels and to minimize the effect on my member.
Occasionally, my Mistress forces me to go shopping dressed like this. If I have done something to displease her she will insert a plug which will vibrate whilst I walk and cause me constant stimulation. My over dramatized female looks always draw attention to myself. I do look like a cheap hooker; the overfull lips, heavy breasts, narrow waist and short miniskirts allow no other conclusion. She will humiliate me at every opportunity calling me by my male name in a shop and telling the sales girl what a sissy I have become. I have bought my own bras and corsets and heels with my Mistress in attendance. And if I do not pick the right size, a smaller size than I had before, I will feel the humiliation soon. At first the tight bras cause me great discomfort with my huge globes. I am now used to the pain. I attend a salon weekly for a facial and to have my nails done. Soon, Mistress expects me to do my own nails and hers. I must change the color each week. She expects that my porcelain nails are pasted with permanent adhesive to my real nails, then filed and shaped. The colors depend on my Mistress' mood.
At night she keeps me tightly corseted, devoid of makeup, and with a plug inserted to keep my passage expanded to accommodated larger cocks. My hands are cuffed to the bed each night so that I cannot play with myself - not that I could after a sound nightly fucking. But Mistress will not take the chance. I can thus only sleep on my back, and don't feel the pressure of my weight on my globes.
What do I do ? As my Mistress commands. As a scientist she earns good money to keep her slave with her modest needs. During the day, when she is at her research institute, I maintain my Mistress's house and in the evenings I service her male friends. These are friends from work or other acquaintances. She invites a male friend three or four times a week for dinner which I must prepare and serve. Sometimes they are TVs who accompany the other males. I must suck them off too and they get to suck my almost shriveled member. On these occasions she tells me how I must be dressed and made up. No exceptions to this and above all no excuses and ideas of mine own. Whilst they eat their main course, I am usually on my knees under the table sucking on their fat cocks until I have tasted their ejaculate. After dessert and coffee, I am usually called to restore life to the cocks by sucking them to hardness, and then raise my tight hole for penetration whilst I use my mouth on my Mistress. Once I was also asked to suck off four of her male friends under the table during a visit to a restaraunt. Needless to say, all I got to eat was cock and drink was their cum. They didn't have to pay for the meal. My lips were stretched around the manager's huge tool in his office. He must have emitted a gallon of cum, which I had to swallow in front of my Mistress. I think the manager described it as a press party. He didn't have the time to fuck me but Mistress promised to bring me back to him for that. Mistress says that the protein is good for my figure. My full lips are the talk of most parties and I have yet to meet a male who didn't compliment me on my sucking abilities. Sometimes I think they prefer to fuck my mouth than my hole.
During the weekend, usually at parties, I may receive a cock at both ends, and am used to being serviced as many as ten times in a night by various men. I must dress tartily and Mistress has recently bought me a bright red and shiny PVC minidress that emphasis my come-hither looks. Makeup is overdone, and I am to act and be the whore of my Mistress's choosing. I have been complimented on my sucking so that I usually have to perform at these parties until my jaws ache. It seems that my pouty lips are a real turn on for them and that my expert sucking abilities the talk of her small circle of friends. At these affairs my hole drips with cum as I walk and my stockings are a testimony to the amount of ejaculate that enters my hole. I can't imagine how much cum I have drunk in my short life as Claudine. Whenever it is just Mistress and I for the evening, I will usually suck Mistress's rubber cock and then she will fuck me hard. When I am allowed to ejaculate, I must always swallow my own cum and have gotten to enjoy the taste. I must lick her to orgasm first, which causes her to crush my head and earrings painfully between her clamped thighs, before she will force me to open my mouth for her plastic love stick, usually coated with my own cum or with Mistress' juices.
Mistress has changed me into the woman of her imagination. She talks of a special present for our upcoming second anniversary. She had talked of permanent makeup for my lips and eyes but then decided that it would be more fun to punish me for bad makeup that to have a perfectly made-up slave each morning. I take good care to apply my makeup carefully as the punishment is usually the use of the 12" long dildo with a girth of 4 inches on my mouth and hole. This leaves me sore for days but I must endure it for being careless.
Mistress does appear to have overcome the incidents in her youth. My advice and help have transformed her from a shy virginal girl to the essence of womanhood where she has clear ideas of male servitude. She no longer seeks nor needs my help. I am her slave. I serve my Mistress well. It is my pleasure. I wanted to be Mistress's mate. I am the only male she has truly fucked out of lust - after that unforgettable first night. Now, I am her permanent reminder of feminized male servitude.
As for the future, there is much my Mistress wants for me. She wants my hips enlarged as I said before. I may be given piercings on my private parts. Mistress says that she does not want to change me to a full woman with an operation; rather, she would like to remind me of my former male self and says she wants to develop me to be a whorish caricature of a female that will be abused by men at her command. She truly wants to test how many cocks I can suck off in one night after she read somewhere that Cleopatra serviced hundreds in a night. I know that whilst I am using my mouth on some cock, that I will also experience penetration of my own hole by cocks of various sizes. So far, I have experienced four cocks simultaneously: one in my mouth, one plugging my rear and one each in my hand. During this foursome, I was being sucked by a "lady" whose mouth was sucking on my limp tool for over an hour before she got a semi erection. I wish she had lips like mine.
I cannot complain. I wanted my Mistress, and I got her. Our roles are somewhat reversed but I wouldn't change my role for the world. I know I got what I wanted.