I was walking in a field, the cool grass crushed softly between my toes, the sun warm on my skin, the smells of spring were in the air and every deep breath I took filled my lungs with the promise of a fresh start and new hope. The sky was a flawless blue and looked clear enough to take a swim in. Everywhere I turned, all I could see was endless rows of rolling hills...there wasn't a soul in sight...and yet, for some reason, I didn't feel frightened or lonely like I usually do by myself. It was as if the sun herself was watching over me, keeping me company. I felt a whisper tickle my lips as I put a name to the unseen spirit watching over me..."Isabella" and I realized why I felt so safe, so hopeful, so loved...
And then I woke up...
I reached out for Isabella, but she was already gone...the tune to "You are my sunshine" popped into my head and I felt a poignant pang as I understood the lyrics for the first time. I felt a tear caress my cheek and closed my eyes, trying to get back to those Elysian Fields one more time...but then I heard a familiar voice, albeit one much colder than in my dreams..."Get up, Belle. It's time for breakfast and the Devil himself won't be able to protect you from me if I get punished for your tardiness."
I bolted out of bed and followed her obediently, unable to take my eyes off her inviting ass bouncing in her tight red Lycra bodysuit. I wondered about her outfits. All of the other gurls seemed to fit a certain theme. Baby doll, school girl, whore, pain slut, and French maid...but she was just a sissy. I wondered who she was dressing for and what fantasy she was supposed to fulfill...besides mine of course. I also wondered when I'd get to wear some clothes of my own, but when I asked timidly, a curt "When you've earned them." was my only response. I didn't press the issue, not wanting to anger her after the brief moment of tenderness last night. I had resolved to be the best sissy I could be, so that maybe she would reward me with another fleeting sign of affection.
So it was with a spring in my step that I made it to the mess hall...and one look at my breakfast made the name seem totally appropriate. I had a steel bowl with my name engraved on it, so far my only possession down here. It was a thick, sticky porridge of sorts, with the odor of stale oats and aspirin and the look of glue and vomit. I dug my spoon into it, cringing as it seemed to fight back, sticking to the bowl as if it knew it didn't belong inside my mouth. I scanned the room. Sakura and Bambi where eagerly devouring theirs, as if it were the tastiest meal in the world. Isabella was sitting in a corner, watching me expectantly as she slowly took one purposeful bite after another. I didn't want to break my vow before breakfast, so I closed my eyes and shoveled the biggest bite I could into my mouth...
I should have started with a smaller bite. As it was, the taste of zoo smells filled my mouth, sending caustic vapors down my throat which caused me to gag reflexively...and I didn't know I even had a gag reflex anymore. But it was to no avail, the slop was too gloppy, too viscous and sticky to escape so easily. My cheeks ballooned like a chipmunk, tears welled up in my eyes, I knew I had to force this down soon or risk spitting it all over the table...and then what would Isabella think? That I was some spoiled baby probably...and I couldn't have that. So I forced my body to ignore every instinct of self preservation it had and willed it down my throat I a slow, torturous slide...when I finally finished the first bite I gasped for air...then exclaimed, "Ugh! What's in this shit?"
Without looking up from her bowl, Bambi rattled off, "Prolly her-moans, bee-havey-rool mod'ficashun drugs, n' deffy some MDMA derivys with a some-attic ha-lucy-jenny cocktail." Everyone looked at her in stunned silence, not sure if she was experience a moment of brilliance, or babble. She seemed just as confused, looking down and blushing and muttering, "Or sumthin like that..." As out of place as it sounded coming from her pouty lips, I had to admit she was onto something. The single bile inducing bite I had taken was already making me feel a little swimmy...and a lot horny. So I did what any sensible sissy would do when she discovered her food was drugged with all sorts of mind melting mixtures...I started wolfing it down. That might seem counter-intuitive, but I knew that they were going to get their drugs in me one way or the other...and that they probably already had a big head start, so why fight it? If swallowing gag-me-glue was the easy way to take my medicine, I didn't want to find out the hard way...
Besides, I wasn't about to pass up a chance to get stoned out of my gourd, not with my first day in training hanging over me like the Sword of Damocles...and with every foul mouthful I worked down my throat, it only made more and more sense. It became a kind of perverse contest with myself to see how quickly I could finish it, ignoring every screaming cry my taste buds made to stop, bullying my gullet into gorging on semi-soft sludge, practically chewing it back down as it attempted to rise up and burst out of me. Eventually, I went into some sort of auto-pilot, lost in a druggy daze until I half noticed I was licking the bowl...I put down the bowl and looked up, shame faced to see everyone staring at me in slack jawed surprise. "Please forgive this impudent sissy, Bambisan, but it looks like Bellekun just beat your record."
Bambi just glared at me as the shock wore off and the petty jealousy seeped in. I knew I was going to pay for that, but at the moment I was too light headed to care. I just smiled dumbly and drifted over to Isabella to see where I was supposed to go next. I hoped that I might have made Isabella proud, or at least less disdainful, but if she was impressed one way or the other, she didn't let it show. She had the world's best Strip Poker face, and I always felt like I was holding my cards the wrong way with her. I was relieved when she finally popped the pregnant silence, even if it was to chastise me..."While that was certainly amusing, it's not how we clean our dishes here. Take your bowl to the sinks at the end of the room and make it squeaky clean. You won't have anyone picking up after you down here. You won't have long before your morning workout, so don't dawdle. We already have our training regimens set, but you'll be meeting with a personal trainer. And trust me, Belle, you don't want to make him wait for you."
I nodded like a good little sissy and darted over to my table, only to see Bambi and Sakura had left me their dishes too. Of course...I was the bitches' bitch...it figured I'd have to clean after them too. Or maybe it didn't, but in my docile state, it only seemed fitting, even just. So without a whimper of complaint, I ran as fast as my dainty feet would carry me and started scrubbing the dishes. It was a lot harder than I imagined it would be, the glop just didn't want to come off, no matter how hard I scrubbed. So I turned the heat up as high as it would go, only to scald my delicate skin. I was so surprised that I chipped a nail, feeling hot needles of pain dig into the soft flesh below my fingernail. Whatever was in my breakfast, it wasn't a pain killer...I felt everything as if I was stone cold sober, or possibly even more keenly...but I had to push through. Angry blaring beeps announced it was time for my workout, and I was still on the first bowl. I gritted my teeth, worked through the pain, and rang every ounce of strength out of my puny arms, putting as much force into scrubbing as I could. When I finally finished with the last bowl, I let out an exuberant squeal...and then I remembered I was late and let out a panicked eep...
I ran to my class so fast that I practically left a sissy-shaped dust cloud in my wake. It was only when I was almost there that I realized I knew where to go without anyone telling me. Did I remember from my first guided tour/threat with my step-father? That seemed doubtful...I was never very good with directions...or with anything else for that matter. I wondered if they had somehow put a map in my head of where I was supposed to go...and I wondered whether I should be relieved or horrified by the thought. Either way, I didn't have time to dwell on it, because I was 100% certain I didn't want to keep my trainer waiting one millisecond longer than I had to. My legs had turned to blown out rubber, my lungs where filled with battery acid, my sides where being cut into with jagged glass. By the time I crashed through gym doors, I didn't even have the strength to stand. I fell to the ground in an anguished heap, struggling to form a pitiful attempt at an apology. That's when I heard the familiar voice of my step-brother, Dirk, "Damn, Belle. If just getting here is too much exercise for you, then you're really going to hate what comes next..."
I looked up to see him smirking down at me, and I didn't know what alarmed me more, the thought of him using his towering physique to punish me, or the fact that I couldn't stop slavering over his towering physique. On one hand it made sense, I was a sissy after all, and he was as far from it as you could get. A wide frame chiseled by a Greek god to show us mere mortals how they really looked...a face with strong, almost brutish features that stopped just shy of buffoonish and went all the way into devastatingly handsome...a fat cock straining in his speedos even while soft...one I knew could tear me up if he was so inclined, but one I couldn't forget since he it stretched me to my limits. But it was so confusing, I was still getting used to being a sissy I suppose, but everything I used to hate about Dirk was what I found irresistible now...his arrogance, his terrifying strength, even his nearly mindless obsession with sex...because that's what I was obsessed with too. On the other hand, I was late to my first appointment as a sissy, and I was sure he would jump at the chance to punish me...
Instead he peeled me off the ground and held my chin in his hand, drawing my fearful gaze up to his burning eyes, "Oh don't look so terrified. I'm not going to punish you. Frankly I'm happy to leave that part of the job to the experts. Besides, the workout will be punishment enough for a soft, spoiled brat like you...but damn if they didn't carve you into a fuckable soft, spoiled brat. Tell you what, if you do a good job, maybe I'll give what you're too embarrassed to beg for." I blushed and tried to look away, but he held me firmly, his stare penetrating past my meager defenses, seeing clearly how badly I wanted him...I cursed myself for having such terrible taste in Master's, but resolved to be the best little gym bunny I could be.
"Alright, now we're going to start with the most important exercise for any sissy..." I let out a satisfied squeal as Dirk shoved two of his thick fingers inside my pussy. I melted into his arms, laying my head against his chest, smelling his sweat through his tight tank top...it smelled like Heaven's locker room. I squeezed around his digits, sending pulses of pleasure throughout my hungry flesh. "That's a good sissy...squeeze down...now relax...and squeeze again. If you don't practice your Kegel exercises daily, you won't stay taut and tight for all your new boyfriends...and no one wants to fuck a blown out sissy, do they, Belle?"
"NoOOOoooOOoohhh" I moaned earnestly, working my hardest to milk a creamy orgasm from his fingers,,,and improve my physique of course. But he pulled his delicious digits out of me with a depressing plop and told me to do it on my own. Three seconds clenched, then three seconds relaxed...over and over again until I feel pains in muscles I didn't even know I had in my ass. But I took deep breaths and kept my eyes on the prize...or prick as the case may be. After all, if my pussy was tighter, Dirk's cock would feel that much bigger...
"Alright, that's long enough for now. But I want you to repeat those exercises three times a day." I nodded meekly and shifted nervously from one leg to the other. Every since he said I might get fucked at the end of our session, it was all I could think about. I was a little embarrassed at how quickly I went from being conflicted to being consumed with lust, but of course being humiliated only seemed to make me hornier. I was all but drooling as I waited to hear what he had in store for me next, and I only managed that much restraint by focusing every ounce of my meager little will. When he told me what I'd be doing next, my mouth dried up immediately. "You might have noticed all the sissies down here have very different physiques, or maybe you were too busy staring at their clits, but I'm getting off topic...the point is you gurls are all carefully packaged products. I let the egg heads deal with filling the insides up and the artists apply the cosmetic touches, but I have the most important job. I make sure the products can actually perform as advertised. So you see that bar over there..." he pointed to one of those bars ballet students use to make those impossible leg stretches, I swallowed a gulp sideways as I realized he wanted me to make one right now..."You don't have to be toned or slim like the other sissies, in fact we want you soft and supple as you can be...but you will have to be much, much more flexible. So get that leg up on that bar and start taking knees with the other leg...by the time I'm done with you, you'll be more flexible than one of those Canadian acrobats pretending to be a Frenchy."
I don't know why I even bothered to try, I knew I was destined to fail. I was so weak, so uncoordinated, so completely and utterly useless...but I was also desperate enough for Dirk's dirk to ignore all that and rely on my pathological capacity for hope when there is absolutely no evidence to justify it. I swished over to the bar, making sure Dirk got at least two eyefuls of my creamy curves, and took a deep breath...I cleared my head, pushing out all the doubts and fears and logic and left only one ridiculously stupid thought...I can do this. Then, something even stupider happened...I lifted my leg up and over the bar and brought it down slowly...I just stared, struck dumb...as if I was watching someone else. I couldn't do that...it was impossible! But there I was...doing it with ease...okay, not with ease, every muscle in my body felt like an old rubberband seconds away from snapping at any second. Was that the only reason I couldn't do it before? My own insecurities and fear of failure or was it my all consuming desire to avoid even momentary discomfort that kept me from discovering my body's true abilities? Whatever it was, I was free from it now, and I was giddily gritting my teeth through the pain, giggling between grunts as I pumped up and down faster and faster, tossing my head over my shoulder to give Dirk an inviting look...
"Damn! You're actually good at something, Belle...I'm seeing it and I can't believe it. But let's see how flexible you really are..." What followed should have been an excruciating torture session with Hell's own personal trainer and I guess in a way it was. I mean it hurt worse than any imagined pain I'd ever cringed and cowered from; my body burning and aching, with searing pain stabbing across my joints as I twisted from side to side and back to forward. I felt like I was being stretched out on the rack, only with me gleefully turning the wheel. I couldn't understand it, probably because it didn't make any sense. I hated pain...I mean, it hurt...so why was I so eager to bend over backwards for Dirk...literally? I didn't really have to ask...even if it made no sense, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. I wasn't even doing it for the promise of sex anymore. I just wanted to make Dirk proud of me. Of course, 'proud' takes on a completely different definition in The Basement...one that involves dehumanizing degradation and servile submission...but one that also involves being good at something...making someone happy. I never realized how important that was to me until I started trying it for the first time. It was addicting. I almost felt guilty. There was no way Dirk got nearly the same joy in domination than I did in surrender. It was almost like I was ripping him off...which only motivated me to give him that much more...
I finally fell to the floor in a sob of frustration, reaching my limit as I was just an inch away from sucking my own clit...of course if it had been even average size it would have been easier. I tried to will the life back into my limbs, but they weren't taking anymore requests at the moment, probably ignoring me because I bullied them so mercilessly to bend and twist to my will. I was furious with them, and even angrier at myself...I was so close to proving myself to Dirk, and now I was just another worthless pile of sissy of the floor. Just as I was about to squirm over to Dirk and suck his toes as way of apology, I felt his strong arms wrap around me, pulling me up so that my feet touched the ground, but holding me tight so that I wouldn't just crumple to the ground. I braced myself for the worst, ready to accept his disgust and disdain as my due, but when I looked up into his eyes, I saw something completely different...
"There, there...I've got you. And don't look so crushed. You did great for your first day. You're a natural born sissy after all. In fact...I think you deserve a reward." His expression was almost kind as he leaned towards me, it almost tempered the fire burning in his eyes, almost but not quite...I still melted under their heat. He didn't so much kiss me as swallow my mouth, forcing his thick tongue inside me and fucking my throat with it. One of his hands dropped to my ass, fully cupping one of my cheeks and massaging a moan out of it. I felt the strength returning to my limbs even as he made me feel so helpless in soft in comparison to him. It was all I could to lift one a silky soft leg around around his hard back and wrap it around, embracing him. My arms had a better idea, one slinked it's way up to caress his Adonis-like abs and the other found itself stroking his blazing red hair, the heat almost too much to stand. I was beginning to see what Lola saw in Dirk, and for the first time, I was jealous of her...
When he slid three fingers up my ass...to test the results of my exercises no doubt...I began writhing against him, rubbing my hard little worm against the leviathan in his shorts. My breasts crushed against his chest, my nipples tracing out his flesh as if they were marking their territory, exquisite pain running through them, sweet and sharp like a toothache your tongue keeps lingering back to. It send Morse code moans down to my pussy, making it throb back a response of 'Oh God yes...forever and for always yes..." Then Dirk pulled his tongue out of my throat, a whimper snaking its way out to try and pull him back in, but changing to a perverse prayer of thanks as his mouth latched around my swollen breast instead. I don't know if it was my body or the drugs...or if the drugs where what did this to my body in the first place...or if it was all in my head...or if it was my heart that was lying...because in this chaotic storm of questions and doubts one thought kept striking through clearly...I love him...I love him I love him...
I don't know why I was so hard on Dirk before. He's not a monster...he's just passionate. Sure he can be rough, but that's just because he doesn't know his own strength. And granted, can be arrogant and overbearing, even something of a bully...but he doesn't mean anything by it. It's just the testosterone talking, you have to expect a little aggressiveness from a real alpha male. And Dirk was definitely all man...I could feel all ten inches of him, thick and throbbing against my soft stomach...with a cock that big he had earned the right to. I longed to feel him inside me, to lube it lovingly with my tongue and feel it stretch me out to my very limit again...only this time bringing me to the pinnacle of pleasure instead of pain. I was just about to fall to my knees and beg him to let me worship his cock when I heard the hateful blaring of the alarm telling me it was time for my next class. "Oh no...not now. Pleeeeease...please let me stay just a little longer..."
Dirk let me fall to my knees, staring up at his salacious smirk..."Fuck, Belle, you've got it bad haven't you? I feel like I should cock block you for old times sake, really leave you humiliated and horned up, but to be honest, I'd much rather fuck a dozen screaming orgasms out of you. And don't worry, I'm not one of those guys with a hang up about a sissy cumming before me. Hell, I like knowing I can make a bitch squirt until she's dehydrated." I listened with rapt attention; my imagination running wild with such vivid thoughts that I could practically feel him inside me. But practically wasn't enough...I needed more. But that's when he let the other foot drop...right on my throat..."Of course, I won't be the one getting punished for your tardiness. The choice is up to you...do you want to get fucked like the filthy slut you are, or do you want to go to your next lesson like a good little sissy?"
Was that a rhetorical question? I mean...who wouldn't rather get fucked like the filthy little slut they are? I realized he was toying with me...that this was just another game or test or whatever they wanted to call it. They couldn't just fuck me and be done with it or just brainwash me so I'd be an obediently little sissy. No, they played these perverse pranks instead...I didn't understand why they had to go to all the trouble. I'd already surrendered. I was helpless, so why did they need to play these elaborate games of cat and mouse...or maybe it's because I was helpless...they didn't have to do this, it was just more fun. I had to revise my opinion on what a cuddly studdly teddy bear Dirk was...but that didn't stop me from pulling down his gym shorts or shrieking in in giddy surprise when his cock popped out and plopped me in the face.
If I had thought it through, I probably would have just gone to my next lesson. After all, I was being trained to be the ultimate sissy whore, so I was going to get plenty of chances to get filled up with ooey gooey orgasms...but with a hard cock stroking my soft cheek, the only thing I could think about was how I was going to manage to fit my lips around it. When I felt his cock laying on top of my face as I suckled on his balls, its weight making me feel so weak and small in comparison...when I tasted the salty sweat and manly musk of his massive balls, so big I had to take them one at a time...when I saw the look of all consuming lust in his eyes and the cocky smile of a conqueror on his lips, I knew I made the right decision. I knew I was where I belonged...
"That's a good little sissy...get me nice and wet for that tight little pussy of yours. I don't want to hurt you this time...well not too much anyway. You know what they say...no pain, no gain". It was a cliche, but he seemed deeply profound at the time...and I did so want to gain. I ran my tongue slowly up his cock, the taste sizzling on my tongue, the silky smooth texture only making the hardness underneath feel more enticingly intimidating. I'd never sucked one this big before, I was trying to tease him, to really take my time in drooling over every inch of his cock...giving slow, loving, wet kisses with just the slightest flicker of tongue...but it was getting to be too much for me. I felt like I was teasing myself, torturing myself with every second I didn't have his cock in my mouth. And just when I couldn't take it anymore...when I had to surrender to my own selfish hunger...when I had to admit I was too weak to even stand up to myself...when I was just about wrap my plump, pouty lips around his throbbing manhood...that's when he had an ever better idea on how to torture me...
"Daaaaayum! Well you certainly don't need lessons on how to worship a cock. You're ready to graduate something cum something...damn I always fuck that one up. Oh well, I didn't have to graduate top of my class to train sissies for a living. Besides, I'm still full of bright ideas. For instance, why don't you wrap those new melons of yours around my cock and give me a good old fashioned tit-fuck?" I wanted to wrap my lips around it instead, but by the tone of his voice, I could tell it was another rhetorical question. And to be honest, I almost liked the frustration as much as the satisfaction. It was sick, I know, but a part of me got off on being used for a real man's pleasure and being denied my own. It was pure Hell, feeling the agony of pleasure denied, languishing in lust as the fruits of sweet, juicy release are so tantalizingly close, ready to burst in your mouth and then snatched away cruelly. Yes, it was pure Hell...but it felt so good getting that close...and that sick, masochistic part of me secretly longed for it to be pulled away at the last minute...because I knew I deserved the punishment, and because I was too weak to deny myself.
That's how I found the soft, insanely sensitive flesh of my breasts closing in around his fat prick instead of my lips...how I felt his hot muscle flexing in my cleavage as I pushed by breasts together painfully tight and started sliding them up and down in opposite directions. A frantic friction built up as I slid them faster and faster, the heat sinking into my skin and entering my bloodstream. It was starting to feel less like a punishment and more like a reward...I had been afraid to really play with my new breasts once I discovered how sensitive they were. But with Dirk's thick manhood throbbing between them as it slid with spit-slicked speed, I was grateful for their sensitivity...and ready to test their limits. I began twisting my nipples as I slid my breasts up and down at an increasingly frenzied pace, the swollen buds of bliss like dials controlling the furnace burning inside me. I turned them higher and higher, the heat rising from inside me and radiating out to my florid flesh making it even more responsive to the white hot iron scalding between them. Instead of teasing myself, I was reaching a boiling point, letting out a tea kettle squeal of joy as I felt my first ever titgasm, the sensation of a million pins tickling my tender flesh, the angels dancing on their heads covering me with kisses.
At this point, Dirk must have been getting close, because he took over...thrusting his cock between my breasts while holding onto them for dear life. I felt more feminine than ever...not only was I fucking a man with my breasts, I was able to get off on it...and just when I thought things couldn't get any better, I bobbed my head down at just the right time, and felt his wide mushroom head slip past my moaning lips. I was too surprised to give it so much as a friendly peck the first time, but it soon returned and I was able to give it a quick suckle...it tasted like a stolen kiss from a succubus...a guilty pleasure that only leaves you hungry for more. I was drooling all over my breasts, looking like a dick dumb bimbo...probably because I was a dick dumb bimbo at that point. All I could think about, if you could even call it thinking, was getting one more sweet suck of that cock...feel it throb against my tongue one more time...taste one more dollop of pre-cum, a confusingly familiar concoction somewhere between chevre and wild oats...hoping the next time would be the time he finally exploded all over my slutty face...until it finally was...
His cum hit the back of my throat so hard that I swore it shot right to my brain, his orgasmic mix of endorphins and adrenaline coating my brain and sending it into overdrive, making a very convincing argument that I was the one cumming, sending a double dose of that capital "O" organic compound to spread the good news throughout my body. I writhed on my knees as his seed proved to hearty for my greedy gullet, spilling down my chin and onto my heaving breasts. Every inch his cum hit sang out in vicarious euphoria, until my own meager clit was squirting a thin little stream of its own. As long as he shot thick ribbons across my upturned face and bountiful breasts I could feel the Moan Express rolling through me, shaking me to the core. But even a true alpha stud like Dirk had to run dry eventually, leaving his taste lingering as a teasing reminder long after my buzz had faded. It must have been at least an interminable five minutes before I was able to recuperate well enough to realize the mistake I'd just made. I cried out, "Oh no! I wanted to get fucked! Please, Dirk, please tell me you can get hard again and fuck me!" I begged more to God than Dirk...because it would take a miracle for him to get an erection after unleashing that much baby batter. I had a feeling God wasn't taking my calls anymore, and it probably wasn't a request he would look to kindly on anyway, but for some reason, I still managed to hope for a miracle, even when every day was another brutal reminder that they didn't exist.
And then, a miracle happened...Dirk exclaimed, "Hah Hah hah! Of course I can, Belle. What'd you think I was, a sissy? Now you just get that leg back up over that stretch bar and get me nice and hard again..." I couldn't believe my luck...I began scooping Dirk's pooled cum off my breasts with my fingers and sucking it off my dainty fingers, wanting to be clean so he could defile me again. But Dirk stopped me, saying, "I didn't tell you to clean up, slut. I want you to remember what kind of greedy little fuck pig you are, so the cum stays." I snorted once for yes and scurried over to the bar, leaving any dignity or self respect I might have had behind me like bread crumbs for him to follow me home.
For a moment I did think of how much later this would make me and how much more trouble I would be in, but that only made me long even more desperately for the euphoric escape of mindless animal rutting. With one leg stretched out over the ballet bar and the other spread as far from it as possible, my pussy was completely exposed and vulnerable, just how I liked it. I felt one of Dirk's powerful hands close around my throat and another around my breast, kneading it with violent affection. I wasn't sure which was more dangerous...or more exciting...either way I was breathless and eager for more. And more is exactly what I got, almost more than I could handle, more than I knew I deserved. But Dirk was the generous sort, feeding his full length to my taut and trained hole. He slid in with ease, and I realized he must have added some extra lube to compliment what was left of my spit. At the time, it seemed so romantic, the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me...a declaration of love. "I know you were probably hoping for it raw again, but I almost got dick burn last time, so I had to add some more lube this go around." Then again, some people say 'I love you' in different ways...
Dirk said I love you in a much more tangible way, by slowly stretching out my asshole as his his veiny cock pulsed to the beat of his heart, sending his heart closer and closer to mine with every push. By the time he was all the way inside me, I could tell he loved me very much. One leg was still arched high on the bar and the other wobbly from exertion and lust...I felt like any moment I could collapse, but he took me into his arms, surrounding me with his rippling muscles. His hands cupped my breasts, practically mauling them, painful throbs of pleasure surged through me with every beat of my heart. It was like he was holding his heart in my hands, and every time he squeezed, I felt my pussy close tighter around his heartbeat. And when I felt him throb against my ooey gooey g-spot, my heart burst releasing a flood of pure love, the sheer force of the torrential rush of bliss wearing me down to a tiny nub, washing me away. And then things got worse...and so much better...
The gnawing pangs of guilt started in on me, eating away at my soul, telling me how wrong it was to be late, to cum like a little fuck pig instead of putting my Master first...but then Dirk's massive meat fed my emptiness, sweet stabs of pain like needles filled with honey and heroin filled my pussy as he pounded away at me. His girth both a burden and blessing as I struggled to accommodate him, pain wrestling pleasure in a nude Greco-Roman grudge match, and pleasure was going for the pin. My skin was covered in a slick sheen of sweat, every muscle tense and taut...I was slippery as an eel in his arms, but he held me tight, and as long as he held me close and whispered sweet nothings in my ear, he kept the demons of guilt and despair away, saying, "That's my filthy little slut, my deposit only sperm bank. God damn, but don't you look beautiful when the light shines on your cum covered face. Cum for me, you stupid cunt...show me how much you love my fat fucking cock!"
And I did, a sickly drool of sissy milk dribbling from my clit, running down my wobbly leg as my other spasmed in place like a bitch relieving herself. Lewd, obscenely honest cries drooled out of my throat, his cock so fat it didn't leave room for all the dirty thoughts filling my head. "Pleeeeease, fuck me harder! Bully my weak little pussy with your big strong cock! Make me your little sissy bitch slave! Oh fuck...I think...oh shit...I love....oOOOoooOOooooh!" All that came out after that was incoherent moans...the language of love. Dirk turned my head and claimed my mouth with his own, pumping his love inside me from both ends, his other hand still kneading my breasts like wet dough, melting my heart all over his sticky fingers, bringing them to my mouth and replacing his tongue, letting me suck them clean...my heart tasted suspiciously like his cum, more proof that we were destined to be together. He had turned me into nothing more than a willing receptacle for his love, a shapely fuck vase, a cum jug...and with his hot flesh hitting every sweet spot in my pussy at once, that felt the highest calling I could ever aspire to. But even that proved too great a task, the power and volume of his love was too great, my fragile frame was too weak to hold it all, and I could feel excess love running down my chin as I drooled dumbly, caressing my curves in fat beads of sweat as his love seeped through my pores, even burning up into gas and exploding from my body in a shrill scream. I couldn't even call them multiple orgasms at this point, or even one long continuous one...I was an orgasm, a meager reflection of his pure, perfect love. And just when I swore it couldn't get any better if God himself tagged in to fuck me from behind...it got so much better...and then so much worse than I ever imagined...
The truest, purest expression of his love filled my raw, ravished hole and seeped into my bloodstream through busted capillaries, traveling to heart and head and mutating them, making my heart beat only for him, making every thought of him...making me a living valentine to Dirk. I fell back into his arms as he lowered me to the floor, his love still hard and oozing inside me, feeling so small and safe in his embrace...and then feeling the cold hard reality as he dropped me unceremoniously to the floor. "Urk!" a hurt, animal whimper was forced from my lungs as the air was knocked out of me. My puppy luv buzz was fading fast, replaced by sore muscles and stabbing regret, reminding me I was all too real. If I was a reflection of his love, it was only symbolically...filthy, fleeting, and quickly forgotten. The crystal clarity of a hard cum down cut into me deep, letting me see Dirk as he really was...
He leered down at me with smug satisfaction, an awful look of amused disgust dripping from his face along with the sweat of his full body workout. He didn't love me, he wasn't capable of it...well not in any meaningful sense. He loved me the way he loved a good steak...I existed for his enjoyment, and it didn't matter if I was left chewed up, degraded and digested, and expelled from his warmth. I realized that all the love I had felt for him was a lie, that I had been seeing him with cum coated glasses, creating the Dirk I wanted...no needed...the Dirk that I could love without shame or regret. And now that I saw he was just a wet dream, all of the feelings I tried to push away came rushing in to devour me.,,and Dirk just watched, laughing at the cum catching cliche. I tried to put my sobs together to form a coherent sentence, but I couldn't think over the blaring of the alarms...and that's when the other foot dropped...squishing me like a bug...
"Come with us, sissy!" gloved hand reached down for me and dragged me away from Dirk's contemptuous smirk. I might have forgotten the alarm in my mindless rutting and morose regret, but apparently they hadn't. 'They'...it seemed the only appropriate name for them...two total strangers, cloaked in shiny black rubber from head to toe, floor lab coats, gloves, and a skull cap tight cowl. Their eyes were two empty caverns formed by dark mirrored shades...the only flesh on them was their mouth, tight lipped grimaces stretched over powerful jaws. I wondered what kind of messes they had to clean up in those get ups, and immediately regretted my curiosity, bloody screaming images flooding my head. I spent the rest of the long slide towards certain doom trying to imagine anything else, with less and less success. By the time I reached my destination: a bland, featureless room, empty save for the chair I was rudely tossed into and strapped down in, I was reducing to a whimpering stream of unintelligible apologies...
After they made sure I was completely helpless, they left me alone...or so I thought. A voice rang out behind me, "Good morning, Belle. I see punctuality isn't one of your strong suits. Of course, we haven't found any strong suits yet, but that's what we're here for. Now, we'll take care of your tardiness after the lesson, so let's get started with your French lessons." I strained my head, but I couldn't turn it far enough to get a look. He was only a disembodied voice to me, but instead of making him seem weightless or intangible, he became more substantial...filling my imagination until he was a homunculus of every nightmare I ever had stitched together into a shambling mess...a nightmare with an eerily soothing voice. Soothing...and familiar...like the sound of my conscience.
I tried to figure out what was going on, managing a stammering, "buh buh But I don't nuh nuh know any French." I heard a soft, gentle laugh behind me that chilled me to the bone. It was strangest thing...his voice was so kind, but some how that made him even more terrifying than if he was screaming and snarling. Like he didn't have to try to intimidate me, like he didn't even care if he scared me or not, because he was going to make me do whatever he wanted whether I was afraid or not. "Oh you won't learn how to speak French. Our clients don't want a girl that speaks French, it's alienating and embarrassing for them when they don't speak French. No, our clients want a girl that barely speaks English. So we're going to give you an accent with a smattering of French words with no regard for grammar or syntax. All you'll have to do is close your eyes, calm down, and let me start the lesson." All of the sudden, Sakura's broken English and equally broken Japanese. I didn't want to end up a cartoonish caricature like her or the others...I tried to resist, tried to keep my eyes open, determined to struggle to my last. But my lids where so heavy...I had to rest them...just for a second...
...
"There we go. That wasn't so bad, now was it?" My eyes snapped open a second later. I didn't know what he was talking about. How could he have taught me something in a second, especially since he didn't say anything? I didn't want to make him angry, but I wasn't sure if this was some kind of a test. If I pretended to learn something and he knew I didn't, I would be in even more trouble. So I decided to risk a little honesty...
"Non. Eet did not zeem to work. I...Mon Dieu!" I couldn't believe my ears...I sounded like Pepe Le Pew's girlfriend. "What ees this? How did zees happen?" I struggled vainly against my bonds, beginning to really panic...if they could make me sound like that, what else would they do if I gave them the chance?
"Don't worry, my dear, it's just a little speech therapy, that's all. You should be proud to be such a fast learner. Now, as for that punishment..." My heart stopped. I was tied to a chair in a room with a mysterious stranger that could make me a foreigner in my sleep. I was on the verge of tears imagining what he could do to me while I was awake. I was helpless, but strangely, not hopeless. Stupidly, I hoped for another miracle...maybe he would decide I didn't have to be punished...but of course that was a futile hope...or so I thought. "Now you don't have to be punished. It's really up to you. Here at the Harrow House, we pride ourselves in only training the perfect sissies, and no amount of drugs, surgery, or hypnosis can make a perfect sissy if she doesn't want to put in the effort. So, Belle, the question you have to ask yourself is, do I want to be a perfect sissy? If you do, go to room 101 after this and accept your punishment. If not, go take a nap until you hear the next bell signaling the start of your maid duties. The decision is entirely yours."
The moment he finished talking my bonds snapped open. I told myself it was a remote controlled latch, but I wasn't convinced. I didn't even have the courage to turn around, too afraid of what I'd see, or worse, wouldn't. I heard his voice so clearly, I would have hated to find there was no one there. Instead I bolted out of the room and down the hall, running anywhere as long as it was away from that voice. I was already half way there before I noticed I was running towards room 101. What was I thinking? I didn't want to be punished...did I? Of course I didn't...but I did want to be the perfect sissy...so I found myself tentatively knocking on the door to room 101, cursing my conscience and their cruel games, terrified of what I'd see when I opened the door...trying to tell myself it couldn't possible be as bad as I imagined it would be. I was wrong...it was worse...
"Belle, it's a pleasure to see you. Both because we've been apart to long and because I'm proud to see you finally taking responsibility for your mistakes. We'll make a good sissy slave out of you yet." I was speechless, staring in shock at my step-brother, Darius, as cold and cruel as Dirk was passionate and selfish. His sharp features accentuated his cold, piercing stare, only his burning red hair gave any hint of warmth, and even that was cut close to his scalp. He towered over me as the tallest member of his family, and with me only a little over five feet, he cut quite the imposing figure. I looked away, hoping to find something less terrifying to look at, but all I saw were walls lines with all manner of torture devices. Spiked paddles, whips, chastity devices, and in the corner, a portable generator with prongs for electrocuting naughty little sissies. Once I saw that my heart sunk...I knew without a doubt, that would be the punishment he chose. I wanted to be brave, wanted to be a good gurl and take my punishment, but I couldn't stop from blubbering, "I'm suh suh sorry! Puh puh please forgive me!"
Darius wore an expression between mock concern and boredom. "But of course you're sorry, Belle, otherwise you wouldn't have volunteered for punishment. Only, and I'm sure this isn't the case, I hope you don't think an apology is currency you can use to buy your way out of punishment. Because as a slave, you don't have any currency, any control, the only real choice you have is how hard you're willing to work to surrender completely...what you're willing to sacrifice to be the perfect slave." The guilt grew more and more vicious as his words sank into me, and the more my shame fed, the hungrier it got. It got to the point that punishment seemed like the easy way out compared to living with the hollow hurt of knowing I was a failure as a sissy. "In fact, since this is your first time being disciplined, I'm going to let you pick what device I use to serve your just desserts. I promise I will use whatever you select, and I won't administer it more harshly if you choose the easy way out."
This was the cruelest cut. Not only did they let me choose to be tortured or to 'get away with' only being eaten alive by guilt, now he was forcing me to pick the my own poison. It was like he said, it wasn't a real choice. I had no control over what I picked. I could either pick something slightly less diabolical and suffer the sting of shame and being racked by regret...or I could pick the most painful punishment possible and work my hardest to surrender completely. So it was with no small amount of pride, and an even greater sense of abject terror, that I wheeled the electroshock device over to the middle of the room right next to a table adorned with leather restraints. "Pleez, Monsieur Darius, pleez punish me with zis."
His eyes lit up ever so slightly, a firefly at the bottom of a deep, dry well. "I have to admit...I'm not sure what to say. Here I had this whole speech prepared about how you are only cheating yourself by picking the smallest paddle on the wall. It was on the tip of my tongue...I practically tripped on it. But you picked out the worst of the worst. I can't use that just for being tardy to one lesson...it's just not proportional." I went through a whole gamut of emotions. I was beaming with pride to see him stunned speechless...I was horrified to think of how awful it must be if even HE thought it was too much...but most of all, I was ashamed that I was getting away with all the sins he didn't know about.
"Buh buh but, zere was more. I was also late to ze gym. And last night, I came weezout permission...so meeny times I experience zee petit de morte, even weeth Monsieur Dirk. Pleez, punish me weeth the worst you have." Confessions fell from my lips like lead weights, leaving me feeling relieved, but hollow...it was soon filled with an oppressive dread...
"Well..." any spark in him fizzled out as his tone went ice cold, "I'd say you deserve this after all. Get on the table, once this current runs through you, you'll be hopping like a frog on fire. So let's get you tied down so you won't break your cute little neck." I got up on the table and laid down with all the enthusiasm of an autopsy patient. Darius strapped me down tight, the leather biting into my soft, sensitive skin, the minor pain serving as a portent of things to come. If a little discomfort was so difficult for a spoiled sissy like me to endure, then how would I endure actual torture? "Electroshock therapy has been used since the 1930s to treat severe depression. It's said to create a sensation of euphoria after the current completes its circuit through the nervous system. Of course, it is usually administered to an anesthetized patient, so that might not happen in your case." Darius had the professional demeanor of Dr Kevorkian, and I didn't bother trying to look for compassion or mercy in his eyes as he applied the electrodes to my forehead. He told me once that he was the kindest Master in the Harrow House...that he gave us what we would never dream of asking for, but what we desperately needed. I wondered if this was what he had in mind...and then I realized it was exactly what he had in mind. The machine came to life with a steady hum, that must be what the demons hummed in Hell.
"Since this is your first time being punished, I'll keep the voltage relatively low. And I'll only shock you three times. But don't you dare beg me to stop. This isn't the worst I can do to you, not by far. This is just the worst thing you can imagine...and if you live your entire life without learning what I can imagine, you can die happy." I nodded mutely, biting down on the rubber bit he put in my mouth so I wouldn't chew my tongue off. I closed my eyes and tried to think happy thoughts...
"GUH UH GRRGLE BHHH!" My blood was replaced by hellfire as the current ran through me. My body trashed against the straps as if trying desperately to escape the pain inside it...and I didn't blame it. Nothing I had felt before had prepared me for this...this was PAIN...real PAIN...the kind the brain draws inspiration from when processing minor inconveniences like being grudge fucked without lube...this was pure, undiluted...perfect. But unlike most perfect moments, it seemed all too permanent. Even after the machine returned to its low hum, I could feel the fire pumping in my veins, each breath taking fresh agony into my lungs and breathing out jagged despair. Still...I didn't beg, but I'm not sure if that's just because I was in too much pain to speak...
"GAAAAH UURRRH FGGHH EEEEEEE!" I hoped that wasn't electrocutedese for 'please stop', but if it was, then apparently Darius wasn't fluent. At least it wasn't worse than before, but that's like being in the shallow end of the Lake of Fire. Reality warped and time wrapped around me, closing in on me and holding me down. The PAIN just wouldn't end, and it started to feel like it had no beginning either. I couldn't remember what not being in excruciating, thrashing torment felt like...and I was convinced I never would. This really was Hell, they just took their time warming up my room...
Reality came back to me in gasps, then sobs...when the PAIN finally started to sweat out of me, leaving only a heavy hurt that covered me in a warm blanket, I began crying...tears of joy...tears of relief. I'd made it, I had been delivered from Hell...and one day, maybe a decade from then, maybe I'd even be able to feel good again. But anything less than that pristine Pain was practically hedonistic pleasure in comparison. Then my brain stitched itself back together and remembered how to count..."Well that's two...and I have to say, I didn't think you'd make it past one. I was looking forward to seeing the look on your face when you found out what hurts worse than this...but I suppose this is a pleasant disappointment. I tell you what...as a reward, I'll let you skip the last jolt if you think you've been punished enough."
Just when I thought I'd finally seen the depths of Darius' inhumanity, he found a way to go lower...making me choose whether I'd take one more trip to Hell or live in sin instead. My brain was recovering rapidly, screaming an articulate treatise on the benefits of not being electrocuted...but my conscience was whispering unintelligibly, telling me I'd regret it until the end of my days...that I was only cheating myself. I closed my eyes and saw Isabella smiling down on me, she was so proud of me for being strong, and I was so close..."Oui, Isabella, un more time..."
A cleansing fire...the flaming sword of an archangel, cutting me down...burning me to a cinder...but after an eternity of PAIN...I felt a different kind of fire. It wasn't destructive, it was alive, pulsing...a womb...I rose from it like a phoenix, my wings unfettered from the weight of my guilt...I soared. Flying closer and closer to the welcoming warmth of the sun...closer to the angel hiding behind my eyes...my Isabella...when I finally opened them...I was in Darius' arms. He was brushing my matted hair from my scalp and telling me how proud he was of me. "the bloody nose. When I saw that, I knew...there was hope for you yet. But this...it's too early to say...but in my professional opinion, you could become a perfect sissy."
"Thank you, Monsieur Darius. I leev to pleez." I beamed up at him, feeling a bit of that euphoria he mentioned earlier. For a moment, I allowed myself to believe he was telling the truth, that he only wanted what was best for me, that I could become the perfect sissy. But then I looked into his eyes, and I remembered that he didn't care what happened to me, as long as he got to see me squirm. I flinched at his caress, recoiling from the tender fingers that turned the knob on the electroshock machine. A slight smile flickered on his face...he got what he wanted from me...the flinch...
"Well...I'd better untie you so you can get dressed and get ready for work. We don't want you being late again, now do we?" Darius undid the straps and I slid off the table standing on stiff, barely responsive legs. I made my way to the door each step I took a little easier than the last, my muscles starting to relax...more importantly, each step was a step further away from Darius. I wasn't sure whether he wanted me to believe he was trying to make me into the best sissy I could be and just couldn't help but terrify me, or if he was trying to terrify me and making me the best sissy I could be was a happy accident. Either way, I was grateful for the lesson, mostly because I learned never to have another one. Still...a nagging part of me told me I'd come crawling back if I was a bad little sissy again. It was better than the guilt...and it was the only way to stay on Isabella's good graces...
I ran back to the shower and blasted myself with ice cold water, not even waiting for it to warm up. I shivered under the steady stream, but I was glad for the incentive to soap up and scrub off all my my sweat in a hurry. Besides, it reduced the temptation to spend time I didn't have 'thoroughly cleaning' my more sensitive dirty bits. Instead, I cleaned up, dried off, and tore off to the sissy wardrobe room at record speed. I was out of breath by the time I made it, but this time I didn't let that stop me. I wasn't going to be late this time. I was going to get dressed, go upstairs and be the best little sissy maid they had ever seen. And no one was going to stop me..."Ooh just the sissy I was looking for. I was hoping I could make squirties before going upstairs to pway."...except maybe Bambi.
"Pleez, Bambi..." I saw her cherubic features grow positively demonic and I remembered my place, "I mean Miz'ress Bambi...oops...I mean Maman." As if some one pulled a string, her face snapped back to her usual empty smile. "Please, I can't be late to work. I just want to get dressed and go. Pleez, I promeez to make it up later, just pleez let me go."
"EE! You sound so kewt! I've got my very own widdle French dolly!" After her initial giddiness, I saw Bambi thinking over my simple request with the intensity you'd expect for a zen koan. You could practically hear gears grinding until she finally came back with, "Tell you what...I'll fuck you, AND help you get dressed. Cuz let's be rilly rill, without me you won't find diddly poo." She had a point...the so called Wardrobe Room was more like a warehouse of uniforms, outfits, lingerie, and accessories. Row after row of racks filled with hanging plastic bags and underneath them, labeled cabinets. With Bambi's hair trigger cum reflex it would be quicker than looking for it myself, and it would give me an opportunity to prove I could hold off from cumming before my Master...or Mistress...or Mommy did.
"Alright but..." I didn't get time to finish my caveat before Bambi took me by the arm and dragged me down the rows until she got to row 'M' for Maid and walked down to 'F' for French. She fumbled with a few bags and finally took one down marked 'X'...I was already regretting letting her pick my outfit...
I put on the ruffled belt...the white lace tickling the top of my ass and the black silk soft on my hands...and then I realized it wasn't a belt...it was a skirt. Bambi giggled as she handed me some panties to cover my almost completely exposed ass...it was a thong of course, black silk hugged my smooth balls and hard little clit as I pulled them on, the back riding up my ass, nestled frustratingly between my ample cheeks. My legs were a little more dressed...I slid up thigh high silk stockings, black with white ruffles at the top, which looked rather fetching in my stilettos. It was strange, I had been walking around naked this entire time, but the moment I put clothes on, I started feeling exposed...and I liked it. Teasing glimpses of flesh were even more alluring than the unwrapped package. Bambi helped me into a matching corset, tying the strings so tight I could barely breath...but it was worth it to look breathtaking. It was overwhelming, ever layer I added accentuated my transformation. Before when I wore an outfit like this it was kinky, like a game of dirty dress up. But now, it was like they were a second skin, like they where more me than I was...the me I was wanted the be...the me I was becoming. And I looked very becoming in the peasant blouse, cut just low enough to see the tops of my nipples. My outfit was completed with a dainty little bonnet nestled in my flowing blond hair, and I felt complete...whole. I was a little relieved that Bambi wanted some quickie action after all...I needed some relief...
Apparently Bambi needed release just as badly...she pounced on me leaving a trail of lusty giggles as she tackled me to the floor, covering my face in soft kisses. I was already starting to squirm, her teasing left me tingling all the way down to my toes. I moaned wetly, which she took as an invitation to dart her tongue in and out of my mouth quickly, flicking the tip of my tongue of with hers. She lifted her skirt tickling my thighs as she spread my legs and lined her clit up with my sissy hole. I thought I might drown in softness, or go mad as I was tortured with tickles...when Bambi finally gave me something hard..."giggle I can't tell you how ha ha happy I am to finally have a Fwench Maid to pway with." I was getting a good idea, what with her rapid, rabbity thrusts and giggly grunts...
The good news was I didn't have to worry about cumming first...Bambi cooed as she filled me with her sissy spunk...that was also the bad news. I also didn't have to worry about being late she even had time to cuddle into me and snuggle for a few minutes...I stroked her bright pink hair as I marveled that this delicate creature made me her bitch. She wasn't really such a bad gurl...just a bit of brat. The blare of the alarm cut through the fog and sent us scurrying off to our next appointments. She giggled as she bounced away, but I was too nervous to laugh. I ran as fast as I could down the winding corridors, wondering how I knew where to go, how I even knew what the alarms meant for me, and Bambi knew where they were signaling her to go.
I saw the hanging cages in the foyer as I approached the door, and I shivered, knowing it was only a matter of time before I'd be locked in one, on display for the customers. But I pushed it out of my head...I had more important things to worry about. Like, what exactly was a sissy maid supposed to do? After all, none of the other sissies had real jobs. They were just window dressing. They didn't really expect me to clean did they? In this outfit?
Whatever they had planned, it had to be better than the basement, I longed for the natural light and familiar feel of my former home...I opened the door and made my way up only to find my old butler...and I mean old...waiting for me. One look at Jeeves' stern face and I knew I was in for trouble. I tried to be friendly, "Bonjour, Jeeves, eet is good to see you again. I look forward to working wiz you." But I guess we were never friends to begin with...
"Don't you, 'bonjour me', you faux French fop! And don't call me Jeeves! My name is Percival, you never bothered to learn it when you were Master of the house, but now that you're just another sissy slave, you will call me SIR! And one more thing you better get crystal clear. You work for FOR me, not 'wiz' me!" I'd never seen Jeeves...I mean Percival...I mean Sir so angry. Then again, I barely ever saw him back when I lived upstairs. I considered the servants beneath me, and the only time I paid them any mind was when I wanted them to complete some menial task I was too lazy to do myself. I guess it didn't endear me to the staff...and now I was beneath them...the thought was a little frightening...and frighteningly exciting. The thrill soon wore off..."Now don't think this is some kinky game. I had to let one of my best cleaners go because they figured they could save money by making you clean. She had two kids. I hope your sick little sex kicks are worth putting her out of work."
I withered under his gaze. My outfit was making me feel exposed, but it wasn't quite as exciting as before. Now I felt vulnerable, laid bare...All I wanted was to be a good sissy, to make people happy, but was wanting that selfish if it meant other people had to suffer? I wished things could just be simple, that I could make things better with a blowjob, but maybe a blowjob can't fix every problem. Then again, "Pleez, Monsieur Sir, I weel do anyzing to prove my dedication." When Sir Jeeve's face grew more ashen than normal, I was sure I'd made a terrible mistake, and then he unzipped his pants...
"Hmm...it's a start. But make it quick, missy, you still have floors to scrub." He pulled out his cock but it wasn't hard yet...a first for me. Old guys must need more help...I wrapped my lips around him and swallowed him whole, enjoying the feeling of his manhood stirring as my tongue undulated against it and I softly sucked...even if his pubes did smell like mothballs. As he grew in length and girth he filled my throat nicely, but he didn't have anything I hadn't seen before, still his desperate wheezing did add an extra urgency to it. I felt him throb inside me...irregular, jerky spasms...I wondered how long he would last, and if I'd have the discipline to stay dry after he unloaded, but I didn't have much time to wonder before he let out a breathless moan and several shuddery squirts. His cum tasted a little weak...but still distinctively male. I felt a warm buzz of pride, but whether it was due to self discipline or the abrupt end to a blowjob that was just picking up steam, I didn't cum. Far from feeling relieved, I was starting to wish I could go back to being a fuck pig...
Instead of sticky panties I got a wet rag and a bucket. I took a look at my once familiar home and found it strange and alienating. What was once spacious was now cavernous, making me feel small and insignificant. Floors that where once elegant were now too fucking big...and I had to scrub them all. My silk encased knees met cold, hard tile and I got down to business. From this position, everyone could see my everything, my ass completely exposed and swaying invitingly. It only added to my frustrated lust, a burning in my loins and a knot in my guts...but it also gave me an extra oomph to my scrubbing. Pain shot up my arm and made itself at home in my shoulder. I got the feeling it was going to get nice and cozy, but in a way, I welcomed it. At least it took my mind of how horny I was...
It was a long, hard slog, but it was rewarding. There was something about physical labor that made me feel useful...I could see fruits of my labor as I shined inch by inch. I got it so clean, that I could see my face in it, a vision of servile sexiness. The longer I cleaned, the more I longed...longed for someone to walk by...see what a good sissy I was...how hard I was working for her...see my ass shaking like a bowl of delicious jello...to spread my cheeks with their fat cock and pound me so hard I'd shine the floor with my face. And as if I dreamed them into being, I heard two voices coming down the hallway towards me, "my point, Mr Harrow. If you want to find drugs of the caliber you require for your sissies in this state, you'll have to go to Hell. Because that's where I've sent the competition. You don't like the prices of my drugs, then you can go to Hell." I couldn't see who the voice belonged to yet, but it didn't have the same weight as my Master's. Sure it was bombastic, but it seemed hollow, like it was full of hot air... "Mr. Capistrano, you have made your point abundantly clear. My people will be with yours shortly to see what we can negotiate. In the meantime, perhaps you'd care to sample one of the specimens your drugs help make so ridiculously responsive?" In contrast, Master Darren's voice was almost subdued, as if only a great force of will was holding it back and keeping it from burning Mr. Capistrano's face off. No matter how it appeared, I knew that my Master had the upper hand somehow. The mention of the drugs that made me so sensationally sensitive didn't surprise me, nor did I dwell on it. I figured it didn't matter why I felt so good, as long as it never stopped, so I went about my work with an added urgency, hoping I'd be the specimen he chose.
"Mmmmmmm speak of the Devil...and she shall appear. Who is this comely creature?" His voice grew wet, to the point he was smacking as he talked. I stole a glimpse over my shoulder to get a sight of him. For what I got, it was petty theft. A rotund, oily little man maybe a head taller than me. His hair was thinning and clung to his glistening scalp like thin, inky tendrils. His piggy little eyes darted back and forth constantly betraying his oafish appearance. He was obviously a clever little man, and one bloated with self confidence, but he didn't have the raw power of Master Darius or his sons. Instinctively, I just knew that despite Capistrano's big talk, that my Master was the one in control of the situation. Still, even with all his glaring shortcomings, I still wanted to crawl over to him and show him he was superior to me in every way possible. And from the hunger in his voice, I'd get the chance.
"I'm not so sure you want this one. She's still fresh...hasn't been fully trained yet. I don't want you getting a bad impression about my merchandise." I felt lower than an earthworm's asshole. My Master was worried I'd humiliate him. Worried I wouldn't be able to get off a fat little man...one I doubt got so fat by being picky. Or maybe he'd worry I'd out pig the piggy, and cum all over these nice clean floors before fatty could fill me up like an eclair. Try as I might, I couldn't think of a reason that Master didn't want his guest to use me that wasn't deeply hurtful. But as a mere sissy, my feelings didn't matter. You don't ask a garbage can if its feelings are hurt when you don't fill it up...
"Mmm...all the better. I like a taste of wild game from time to time. Tell you what, if this fresh filly can take my fat sausage without cumming like the bitch dog she is, I'll give you a five percent discount on your supplies." Master Darius nodded silently, and gave me a quick look. It was brief, but spoke volumes. Telling me not to disappoint him...telling me that I had to pull deep inside and find the strength to resist my natural inclination to cum my brains out. Telling me I better go from wild fuck pig to seasoned sissy in seconds flat...and I was listening...
"Smack...yesssss this is a prime cut of ass...well marbled...juicy...and NNH filling..." he didn't waste anytime with foreplay or romance. He just got down on his knees, lifted his gut over my ass, and pushed his fat cock into my tight little cunt. I cooed with every inch that slid inside me...it was a short coo. He couldn't have been more than four inches hard, but he wasn't lying when he called it a fat sausage. What he lacked in length, he made up in girth, giving me just enough hurt to keep me hungry for the tip of his cock as it just barely hit my Oui spot. Far from trying to hold out, I felt my body going into auto-pilot, heading straight for a cliff at top speed...bucking my hips as hard as I could to meet Capistrano's shallow thrusts. I squeezed down on his cock as hard as I could, making good use of my kegel exercises, wanting to feel every inch of him against my hungry whole, greedy for just a little more flesh...just a little more to get me over...it had been so long since I got a little relief...almost a whole day. I could feel his sweat dripping down on me...I knew he wouldn't last much longer, but from the hot throbbing surging inside me, I knew I would fill my panties long before he filled my hole. All it would take is one more prod of my happy spot...one tiny tickle...and I'd be free...
But I didn't want to be free. I didn't want to escape to my blank place. I didn't even want to be happy...I just want to feel useful. I wanted to be a good sissy...the best sissy. So instead of letting him hit my cum trigger one more time, I started rolling my hips, swirling almost all the way to the base of his cock and then working back off it in a corkscrew motion. Now he was the one making little piggy grunts, he was the one about to squeal. I worked him into a foaming frenzy, my ass becoming a pale blur as it danced on his cock, giving him all the pleasure as I did all the work. All he had to do was grab my plump cheeks and impale me on his cock and he'd win his petty little game...but he didn't want to win anymore. For a second I was worth more than five percent of an untold volume of illicit profits. If he had more than a second, maybe he would have done the math, but I didn't give him the time to think. He shot so much cum up my ass I'm sure he pulled out a few pounds lighter. I didn't know how much money we were talking about, but I figured it was at least a hundred thousand dollar fuck by this time next year. And according to him, "huff huff Fuck it...it was worth it."
My Master passed by me, putting his hand on my head. "That'll do pig...meet me in my room in half an hour.,," It was better than cumming. The buzz of pride didn't fade, there was no harsh cum down, no empty ache of guilt or regret. The pride of a fuck well done filled me fuller than any cock ever had. I was useful...I was worth something...I was good. I glided across the tile as I cleaned it, almost floating over it as I counted the minutes until our meeting. When I thought it had been long enough, I made my way over to his door and meekly knocked on it, waiting in anguished uncertainty until he finally called out, "You can come in now."
His room was almost as impressive as he was, and almost as terrifying. It was adorned with trophies of conquest, covered with the heads of savage animals; slain, no doubt, with his bare hands. My master stood in front of his four poster bed wearing a black velvet robe and nothing else, opened ever so slightly all the way down to just above his crotch. I got down on my knees and looked at the floor, not daring to look him in the eyes without permission. I could still feel his eyes on me, burning on my skin, a blush spreading across my skin and sinking into me until I was panting with lust. I didn't want him to see me like this, so desperate for him...so completely enthralled with him. I wasn't even sure I wanted to want him...I probably would have hated him if I thought about it, but who could think with his eyes running over every quivering inch of their exposed flesh? He finally cut through the fog, "I didn't think you had it in you, Belle, but this is one time when I'm glad to be proven wrong. So I've decided to give you a big reward. I'm sure you have countless questions about your new life, and although the only question a sissy really needs to know the answer to is: how can I best serve my Master, I'll let you ask me three. And just because I'm in a generous mood, I'll let you ask them while you suck my cock."
I couldn't believe my ears...it was like Christmas came early and Santa gave me the cock I asked him for in my letter. I crawled over as fast as I could, fumbling with his robe and letting his cock fall onto my face, nuzzling against it like it was my pet snake. I'd fantasized about his cock ever since I saw it sliding in and out of Isabella's lips. At first I tried to pretend I wanted to have a cock like his, but now I couldn't imagine wanting it between my legs when I could have it between my lips. I slid my tongue into his pee slit, the slightest taste of his pre-cum making me giddy with lust. I wrapped my lips around it, finally daring to look him in the eyes...what I saw almost forced the cum right out of my rock hard clit...a look of total dominance...total ownership...a look that told me he was doing me the favor here...that I didn't really deserve to suck his cock, but he would slum it just this once...
I didn't waste the opportunity...I covered his cock in kisses, which took a long time considering he had to be almost a foot long. He tasted of musk and fine steak...a cut above his sons. I was drooling by the time I got to his salt and pepper thatch of pubes and slobbered over his hefty balls, my jaw aching just to feel them pulse inside my mouth. By the time I finally worked my way back up to the tip of his cock, I was dick drunk and desperate...taking as much of it down my throat as I could get in one mad lunge and gagging before I got a third down. My body lurched as I pulled off of him reluctantly, spitting on his cock before I took a deep breath and tried again. I made it half way the second try but couldn't push any further. I let my throat get accommodated to his girth, hoping it would open up to him if they got to know one another better... "Did you have any questions, Belle? Or is my cock the only answer you need?"
I felt a little silly...I had completely forgotten the questions in my zeal to suck his cock. And now that I thought about it, I really didn't have any questions, for myself at least. I accepted that I had no control over my own fate, and I wasn't even sure I wanted any. But now that I could ask questions, I discovered that I had some that had been nagging at me whether I knew it or not. First and foremost, "How iph mmmy mammabr? Iph phee zaphe?"
Master Darius looked genuinely surprised, going so far as to pull his cock out of my throat and plop it on my head a few times, as if thinking it over. "I didn't know you cared about your mother, Belle. Hell, I didn't know you cared about anyone." Truth be told, neither did I. But since I discovered my mom was being kept doped up in a looney bin so my step-father turned Master could steal her fortune, I must have subconsciously started to worry about her. I guess I made a better daughter than I did a son. "Well don't you worry. You're mother is still in top physical condition, and happier than she's ever been. She's thrilled to be relieved of the responsibility of keeping up appearances, of hiding her nasty little addictions from friends and family. She's much happier in druggy dreamland than she ever was with you. She doesn't miss you, Belle, so don't waste time missing her."
He fed me his cock again, filling my lonely longing and then some. I felt the raw heat of a well stretched throat and got lost in the humid haze, making my way almost all the way down his cock, another few inches and I'd be home. I was so close...but so far. It was both Paradise and Purgatory. The frustrating futility reminded me of my next question. "Why do youph puneeph Iphabella for zee opher sipheez mmmiphakes?"
This time he didn't just look surprised, he looked a little confused, or was he disappointed? "Punish her? I haven't had to punish Isabella in ages. Unless you mean...ah, that must be it. What you call punishment is nothing more than not allowing her the pleasure of my company. You see, while you dream of a future with her...a dream I might add that is as dangerous as it is hopeless...she dreams only of being my kept sissy. It's why she hates you other sissies so much. You're competition. And who knows, one day I might grant her wish. That is, if I don't find a sissy that deserves it more..."
I felt emptier than ever...how could I ever compete with him? Who could? It would be like trying to steal God's girlfriend. I couldn't imagine Isabella choosing me over him...I certainly wouldn't. In fact, at that moment, all I could imagine was choosing him. That gave me the final push I needed to force myself all the way down his cock, feeling a sense of accomplishment when I felt his balls stroke my chin so profound...well it was too profound for words to say the least. This was so different from the way Isabella made me feel, but maybe that was the point. This felt right...like it was destiny. I don't think I could call it love...it was something more than that...something deeper...and it brought me to my final question. One so important I slid off of his cock to ask it. "Could I be your sissy servante someday?"
Master Darius smiled warmly, and stroked my hair gently...then he grabbed a clumpful of curls and pulled me onto his cock. He used my throat as a cocksleeve, taking full advantage of my ability to deep throat him, still smiling warmly as he face fucked me. Tears welled up in my eyes, tears of joy no doubt, or oxygen deprivation. The blood pooled in my face, it felt like it was going to burst...everything went dreamy as my brain slowed to a crawl and curled up at his feet. Just when I was sure I was going to burst a blood vessel, I felt an even more urgent eruption filling first my throat and then my grateful mouth. I swallowed his seed eagerly, having difficulty with his volume and viscosity, but finally earning a lungful of fresh air and the taste of pure ambrosia. "We'll see..." he said, kissing my cheek with his cock, leaving behind a sticky memento, "oh and you can cum now."
The moment he gave the word, my body went into convulsions. Every bone in my body melted in the heat of unleashed euphoria, reducing me to a sissy shaped pool of living, breathing, moaning cum. Invisible hands caressing my body, squeezing every last drop of pent up pleasure from every juicy curve and slick cranny. It was like his voice was still inside me, throbbing against my happy spot, sending my sissy sack into overload, producing more gurl goo than I'd unleashed since I woke up in the basement. And all it took was a word...I almost didn't dare to imagine what his cock would do to my pussy...but then it was all I could imagine. Even when he brusquely said, "You may go now." I still felt a lingering whisper of him inside me. I left with the bashful bliss of a gurl with her first crush, or with the panting pride of a bitch that won first place for her Master at the dog show. I floated all the way back down to the basement, sneaking a little piece of Heaven back into Hell...
I floated through the rest of the evening...if it was really evening... eating my dinner and marveling at the flavor puppy love brought to the blandest dish. I barely even noticed the snickers of Bambi and Sakura as I soared to the showers and breezed to bed. It was only when I saw Isabella that I came plummeting back to earth, hitting my bunk with the weight of a shooting star slamming into the unforgiving ground. It knocked the wind out of me...I still loved her...or felt something for her strong enough to confuse for love...but what was it I felt for Master Darius? I didn't feel it any less looking at Isabella's suspicious stare, didn't miss him any less as I covered my head with my pillow to avoid her inquisitive eyes. I didn't know what I felt or for who...and if it was love, where would I put it? I was in competition I with them both now, and I didn't know who I wanted to beat...but I knew I was destined to lose...still, try as I might, I couldn't stop hoping for a miracle.
Whatever the answer was, I didn't find it in my dreams...the field had been paved over...