Silken Slavery

by Christina Shelly

  For the rest of the week, he positively revels in his babification, demonstrating his increasing femininity to his mistresses with every gesture, every movement, every act of enthusiastic submission. Even as he is spanked, bound, gagged, as he is relentlessly humiliated, as he subjected to the constant painful presence of the cock-ring and driven to the edge of sexual madness by the teasing, the oral sex, the forced breast-suckling, the torments of the refitted anal plug, even as he endures all of this, his pleasure is absolute, his desire for more of the same powerful, unbowed, unending.

  Then, suddenly, it is Saturday again, and his week of babification is over. He is taken from the cot in the very early morning by Helen and Donna and congratulated on his sissy progress. Then he is informed he will now act as their personal maidservant on a full-time basis for the next seven days. He curtseys his understanding and cannot help display his intense pleasure, yet at the back of his mind is the terrible reality of time, the fact that at the end of this next week he will be returned to the world of Chris, to the slavery of work, to the despair of his very poor masculine disguise.

  Helen and Donna spend the next hour or so meticulously preparing their sissy maid, quickly stripping away his baby attire and, to his considerable relief, removing the terrible cock-ring and the soft, cruel stocking restrainer. Then he is taken to the shower and made to wash thoroughly, removing the china doll make-up and the various odours and memories of his extended and deeply bizarre babification.

  Once showered and dried, the two women envelop him in a fine mist of expensive, pungent perfumes and return him to the nursery. Here he is transformed into the maid Christina, a deliberately slow and loving resurrection of the sexy she-male created by the women before his imprisonment in nappies. But this transformation is taken to a new level of magnitude, the creation not only of a she-male servant but also of an utterly convincing woman. What Donna and Helen create here is a new, genuinely feminine person. Assisted by the psychological impact of the babification, by the new personality they have forged out of an extreme act of imprisonment and mental restructuring, they are able to give Christina a unique rebirth. The new, improved Christina, as it were. Christina Mark II.

  The first item in this new feminisation is a fresh restrainer. To Chris’s relief, he is not to be returned to the torments of the cock-ring. Instead, Helen opens one of the dressing table drawers and takes from inside it a pink rubber sheath. She then holds the sheath before him in an almost teasing manner.

  ‘A little less brutal than the cock-ring, Christina, but just as effective. The sheath is made of a type of latex rubber that contracts when heated. Thus the more hot blood that pours through your naughty little prick as you become excited, which seems to be most of the time, the tighter the restrainer becomes. Believe it or not, a full erection will be quite impossible. But the level of discomfort will be far less. This said, we obviously reserve the right to put you back in the cock-ring at any time.’

  She hands the restrainer to Donna, who then slips it over the bulging crimson head of Chris’s swelling cock and pulls it slowly down the rigid shaft. His inevitable moans bring mocking laughter and a slap to his backside from Helen. Donna then pulls the rubber restrainer down over his balls and lets it tighten almost immediately over his long-suffering genitals.

  After the restrainer, he is forced to lean forwards, his legs wide apart, his hands resting on the dressing table chair. Donna then produces the long, black rubber, ribbed dildo and waves it cruelly before his now wide, startled eyes.

  ‘Five inches,’ she teases, her smile cruel and excited. ‘Two inches longer than the plug.’

  Helen then dons rubber gloves and carefully eases the plug from his arse. As soon as it is free, she greases his anus with more Vaseline, producing a series of long, deeply aroused moans, which are rewarded with another firm slap to his pert, girlish buttocks. And it is Donna who then slowly slips the dildo into his back passage, all the time teasing him and thus inspiring even more pleasure.

  ‘We’ve been really impressed by the way you’ve taken to the plug, Chrissie. And when you responded so well to the previous dildo, we knew it was time to use it on a regular basis. It won’t be long before you can take a real cock.’

  Her closing sentence makes his heart skip with a sudden, dark dread, yet despite this he cannot deny the very real pleasure he receives from this relentless and developing anal stimulation.

  Once the dildo is pushed deep inside him, he is made to rise to his feet and then ordered to step into a pair of very slight black rubber panties, which are then pulled up his long, elegant, silky smooth legs by Helen. With a strangely maternal smile and a very erotic delicacy of movement, she guides the panties up over his sheathed cock and pulls them firmly into place around his slender waist. To his amazement, he quickly becomes aware that the panties are made out of exactly the same material as the sheath. As soon as they are in place, the panties seem to shrink around his waist, pressing his tightly restrained cock against his stomach and slipping between his legs to press very tightly against the dildo.

  After the panties come a pair of seamed, very sheer, silk tights. This unusual and very expensive item of hosiery is handed by Helen to Chris with a knowing smile.

  ‘A special treat, Christina – to mark your full initiation into femininity.’

  He accepts the tights with the sweetest curtsey he can manage, then sits down on the dressing room chair and begins to guide them up his lovely legs. The sensations the soft, delicate silk tights produce against the smooth skin of his long legs is virtually indescribable. He gasps with a profound, giddying pleasure as he guides the hose over his knees and then stands to carefully guide them up over his thighs.

  By the time he positions the tights around his waist, tears of pleasure are welling up in his pretty eyes and Donna has returned from a visit to the wardrobe carrying a spectacular black and red leather corset with rose-patterned satin panels. Chris stares at the latest item of fetish wear with hungry eyes, eager for it to be fitted around his sissy body. This she does with a lingering gentleness, her own gorgeous body brushing against his as she leans around his torso to pull the two halves of the corset together at the centre of his back. It is as she then uses the thick, black silk ribbon laces to pull the corset painfully tight that Chris becomes aware that this corset has a very strong and utterly unyielding whalebone frame.

  ‘A genuine antique, Christina,’ Helen informs him. ‘Mid-Victorian. I hope you appreciate it.’

  He tries to curtsey his appreciation, but the corset is bound so tightly, the level of movement required to perform a full curtsey is impossible, and his attempts inspire mocking laughter from the two lovely women.

  ‘It’ll take a little while before you can perform a full curtsey, Chrissie,’ Donna says, a loving smile lighting up her beautiful face.

  The dressing continues in an atmosphere of electric sexual excitement. An expertly padded black silk bra follows the corset and Chris once again wallows in the strange, intense pleasure of false breasts. Then there is a very delicate black silk petticoat which barely reaches the tops of his thighs. This lovely, scanty item of exotic lingerie is followed by a return to the dressing table, where Donna reacquaints Chris with the beautiful face of Christina, with the impressively convincing she-male beauty he has always known, but who only Donna and Helen have been able truly to reveal.

  And after the make-up comes the glorious Bettie Page wig and once more he is lost in his own startling reflection.

  ‘I should be used to it now,’ Helen mumbles. ‘But she’s so convincing. It’s almost unbelievable.’

  A moment of almost reverential silence follows before Chris is helped back to his feet and presented by Donna with the stunningly beautiful, intricate black maid’s dress he had first been introduced to a few weeks before.

  As he is helped into the dress, a sense of beautiful serenity washes over him. Suddenly he feels perfectly natural, at one with himself in a way that he has never felt
before. Now there is no guilt, no anxiety, no fear. Christina is now so natural, so absolutely him. So absolutely her .

  As if reading his mind, Helen announces the latest rule of the house.

  ‘From now on, Christina, you will be regarded as a fully-fledged female. There will be no reference made to your biological sex or to your previous gender. Here, and in the company of all your mistresses, you will be she . You must regard yourself as such at all times. Eventually, it will become instinct.’

  And who are we to argue with the glorious, regal Mistress Helen? From now on, at her command, Chris is no more. Now we are telling the story of the beautiful she-male Christina and the emphasis is most definitely on she .

  * * *

  Christina spends the rest of the morning serving Helen and Donna with a delicately mincing and deeply submissive enthusiasm. In five-inch spike-heeled court shoes, she totters from room to room, from task to task, cleaning, washing, serving with a cherry-lipped smile, her sissy eyes wide with masochistic pleasure, her pretty, girlish bottom wiggling teasingly beneath its layers of feminine imprisonment.

  Helen and Donna are both surprisingly relaxed with their lovely charge, adopting none of the stern mannerisms of the last seven days. Indeed, they seem particularly proud of their sissy creation and Christina finds herself praised and encouraged throughout the morning. Donna is particularly pleasant towards Christina, her manner much more that of the few weeks before her slave’s intricate and so successful babification. And Donna’s charming, sensual manner is made even more effective by two things. First, there is her clothing: a beautiful, very short pale-blue silk dress, very fine white stockings and a pair of pale-blue stiletto heels that match the dress almost exactly. With her hair in a tight bun held in place by a sparkling diamond clip, expensive diamond stud earrings and a pearl choker necklace, she is a vision of cool sophistication, a vision that is both new and bold, a vision that makes it clear Donna is eagerly developing her role as a dominant mistress. Secondly, there is the restrainer. Unlike the cock-ring, there is little or no pain associated with the rubber sheath. At most there is a firm, restraining tightness that makes a full erection impossible yet, at the same time, the feel of the restrainer is strangely arousing. So, paradoxically, the more Christina is restrained, the more excited she becomes, a striking reaffirmation of the pain/pleasure dialectic, which she is sure is quite deliberate.

  Helen, dressed in a long, loose black dress, very sensible shoes and black hose, appears to be indifferent to any potential effect she may have upon her lovely sissy maid. Yet, even in these rather unappealing clothes, she is still very beautiful and an object of total adoration for the gorgeous, simpering Christina.

  And it is Helen who, just before lunch, summons her to the living room. Christina totters delicately from the kitchen and curtseys before her stunning mistress.

  Helen smiles and appraises the sexy slave with warm, quite obviously aroused eyes.

  ‘After lunch Donna and I will take you shopping. You need some clothes for out of doors and for visits. Also, some more undies. We also thought it would be good practice for developing your feminine persona.’

  Stunned, even horrified, yet also helplessly excited, Christina curtseys her understanding and gives no sign of her inward fear.

  ‘Now,’ Helen continues. ‘There is also the question of this friend you were reluctant to tell us about.’

  Christina curtseys again, less surprised than curious now, prepared to tell Helen everything without a moment’s hesitation.

  ‘Tell me about her.’

  So Christina quietly, politely, and somewhat nervously tells her beautiful mistress about Annette, about their e-mail relationship, about how beautiful and confident she is, about her envy and desire for this attractive, outgoing she-male who has tried so hard to bring Christina out of her shell.

  ‘She’s sounds very interesting, Christina. I want to meet her. I want her to meet us all. I take it you can arrange it?’

  ‘I can try, mistress.’

  ‘Good. After we’ve been shopping, we’ll stop off at your flat and you can send her an e-mail. I suggest you get her phone number. You should also send her a photo – do you have a scanner?’

  Christina painfully curtseys in the affirmative.

  ‘We’ll get a photo done in town – I know someone who’ll do it quickly.’

  Christina listens in amazement, but never once shows any sign of doubt or fear. This, she realises, is the next step in her development, in the realisation of her dream to become a complete she-male. How often has she dreamed of finding the courage to send the lovely Annette a photo, to develop a real friendship, even to meet her. Now this dream, like so many others, is coming true. Now she is truly stepping out of the closet!

  Christina is then sent off to prepare a simple salad lunch and serve it to her two mistresses, her sissy heart pounding with joyous anticipation.

  Christina eats her own salad lunch at a counter in the kitchen, her mind racing with thoughts of the impending trip and her communication with Annette.

  After lunch, Donna takes the gorgeous she-male upstairs to the spare room. The nursery items have now been removed, and the room is once again a simple, somewhat Spartan guest space.

  Donna helps Christina out of the maid’s dress, cap and gloves, but insists that she remain in the rest of her beautiful, sexy attire. From the wardrobe, which has been emptied of all its baby wear, she takes a very pretty silver-grey blouse and a very short, matching skirt. She places the clothes on the bed and tells Christina to put them on with a sexy, slightly devious smile. As Christina slips into the blouse and the skirt with as much feminine grace as possible, Donna returns from a second visit to the wardrobe with a grey jacket that matches the skirt exactly.

  The very high neck of the blouse is fitted with a wide bow, which Donna then carefully positions before helping her slave-lover into the jacket. As she secures the jacket’s pearl grey buttons, their eyes meet.

  ‘You look fantastic, Chrissie. In fact, you just keep looking better and better. And the better you look, the more I fancy you.’

  Christina moans her appreciation and feels her inflamed, frustrated sex press hungrily into the tight rubber fabric of the restrainer.

  ‘Seeing that you’ve been such a good girl,’ she continues, her eyes burning into Christina’s, ‘you can sleep with me tonight. And I’ll expect you to demonstrate all your sissy sex skills.’

  Poor Christina can barely manage the slightest of curtseys without losing her balance, her knees are so weakened by the erotic power of Donna’s words.

  ‘And while we’re out,’ she continues, slipping a hand beneath his short skirt, ‘I’m going to buy you a suitably erotic nightdress.’

  Christina moans with a terrible, aroused longing as Donna runs an index finger along the curved, rigid contour of her pantied, rubberised and hosed sex. Then her lover’s lips are brushing against her rouged cheeks, then they are embracing, then they are locked in a long, desperate kiss. Christina’s own hands seek out Donna’s heaving breasts, but her mistress pushes them away and then stands back from her gorgeous she-male slave.

  ‘Later, Chrissie. Now it’s time to go down and show yourself to Helen and then we can go shopping.’

  But before Donna leads Christina from the room, she makes sure the lovely she-male has a full view of herself in the wardrobe mirror. And, of course, Christina is quite astounded. This is the first time she has seen herself in non-fetish wear and the reality of the illusion, or rather the reality of Christina, is complete and undeniable, a very beautiful, incredibly sexy woman in the shortest of mini-skirts, her long, shapely legs teasingly displayed in the seamed, black silk tights and five-inch high stiletto heels.

  ‘Every man in town will be on his knees before you, Chrissie,’ Donna teases, her own eyes filled with a powerful hunger for this startling she-male beauty.

  Her words fill Christina with a strange, ambivalent pleasure. The thought of men, of a man ,
wanting her, desiring her. She feels the dildo locked deep between her buttocks and cannot deny that the thought excites her, and even to allow herself this radical thought, to confess to such a reaction, is a significant indication of how much she has changed in the last seven days. I will do anything they want me to do, she thinks, even – even pleasure a man. And as she thinks this, her erection struggles that little bit harder against its far from unpleasant pink rubber prison.

  * * *

  Helen is obviously very impressed by Christina’s new look. Yet it is Christina who finds herself the more impressed for, during her transformation, Helen has changed into a knee-length black skirt, a white blouse and a black velvet jacket, plus a pair of very high-heeled court shoes and black nylon tights. Her hair is tied in a tight bun, her lips painted a thick, blood red. She is the perfect, ample-figured dominatrix. And as Helen leads Donna and Christina out of the house to the driveway, a sense of almost unbearable erotic elation washes over the beautiful, utterly convincing she-male.