by David James
She held out her hand and led him into a large, warm and comfortable bathroom. She turned on the shower, took off her top and the high heels and gently guided him into the cubical, getting in beside him and beginning to wash him carefully and gently. His cock was throbbing and rock hard and, as she soaped him and caressed between his legs he began to shake and shiver. He reached out to touch her, but she said, ‘You will have to wait. Mistress expects you to come for her and for her alone. I’m afraid that might be some time, so you will have to patient.’
She led him out of the shower and with soft, thick towels rubbed them both down before seating him on a low couch.
‘Just lie back and relax.’
The warmth of the room and her husky tones encouraged him to calm down and he lay back and closed his eyes. Within a few moments he felt her hands move across his heavy balls and between his legs as she began to smear soap into his skin and make a thick lather with a soft brush that tantalised him. He had guessed what was coming immediately she had led him to the couch, and whereas at one time he would have seen being depilated as somehow challenging his virility, he now welcomed the idea. He hoped that she would not stop at the hair sprouting from his groin but move on to his legs and chest too. His skin had always been quite pale so the hair on his shoulders, back and arms was fine and soft. He felt the razor slide smoothly across his skin. It felt very different to his own tripled bladed razor, and after a few moments he realised it was a ‘cut throat,’ honed to such a fine edge that he could scarcely feel it as it sung cleanly through the hairs. She lifted his balls, moving the blade tight in underneath them and stretching the sacs to remove every last curl. She put down the razor and lifted his knees and parted his thighs so that she could slide the blade into the groove between his testicles and anus. He ceased trying to control his cock, and her gentle ministrations as she brushed against him was adding to his frustration and increasing the dull ache spreading through his belly. He reached out to touch her, but she gently placed his hand back by his side, and wiping off the surplus lather, moved up to his chest and began to administer soap across his torso and underneath his arms. She was very efficient and the blade whispered smoothly across him, just skimming around his almost painfully erect nipples.
Another gentle towelling and she turned him over, and although the hairs on his back were fine enough to ignore she took them off too, before parting his cheeks and ensuring that the whole area around his tightly puckered anus was silky smooth.
‘Time to rinse now, Chloe,’ she whispered as she gently raised him and led him back to the shower.
There was an alluring calmness about her every move and sound; a warm and soft femininity that puzzled him but which he found fascinating. She washed him again, still as gently and carefully as if he were porcelain, paying specially attention to his cock and balls. As she dried him the nap of the thick towel brushing his peeled back knob was almost too much to bear, and when he was dry she stood back to view her handiwork.
‘Good,’ she smiled. ‘Now we can dress you.’
She took an identical black silk top to the one she had now put back on out of a drawer, and a pair of French knickers that matched exactly.
‘I brought some special clothes, Sophie,’ he ventured. ‘Silk stockings and a lovely suspender belt.’
She smiled sweetly. ‘Sorry, Chloe, but Mistress will expect you to wear these. It’s the standard dress for all of us. Later, if she is pleased with you, you may be allowed a little more freedom. There’s plenty of time.’
The top and the knickers whispered sensuously against his shaved skin, sending shivers of excitement across his body. Finally she took out a pair of the black patent leather spiked high-heeled shoes, similar to those she was wearing. They were much taller than he was used to and he tottered for a few moments in trying to achieve a balance.
‘You will have to do better than that,’ she giggled. ‘Mistress expects her trainees to be elegant and sophisticated. You need some practice.’
She held out her hand and showed him how to keep his back upright while allowing his spine its natural curve, so that his head was precisely over his buttocks and the vertical line of the heels. As he moved into the right position he could feel stability returned, and within a few minutes he could walk smoothly, taking the short steps the stance required. Catching his reflection in a tall mirror he realised that the shape of his calves, thighs, bottom and back were all evenly supported on the vertical line from his shoulders to the floor, and that he looked good.
‘Nearly finished,’ she said, and led him to a stool and sat him down. She used a napkin to protect the black silk top while she took a pair of scissors and cut and combed his hair, before she opened a large and well-stocked make-up box and began to get out various lipsticks, powders, pencils and tweezers.
She began by plucking his eyebrows, taking out those individual hairs that did not lay in the right direction and trimming back the rest, leaving a delicately shaped line. Then she lengthened and thickened the lashes, and for a few seconds he was conscious of the increased weight of his lids, although he very quickly got used to it. He trembled with excitement, wondering where it would all lead and how he would explain his appearance at work the next day. Then Sophie began to open little pots and bottles.
‘There is nothing Mistress hates more than a sissy made up too heavily,’ she chatted, just as if they were in a normal beauty salon. ‘Bright lipsticks and blonde wigs look terribly overdone. There is no need. You will look lovely when I’ve finished with you. You have fine features and when your hair has grown a little longer you’ll look very sophisticated.’
Expertly she applied a soft foundation, a little powder and an almost creamy, glistening copper lipstick before lightly pencilling his eyebrows.
‘A little copper frost to the eyelids and a trace of eyeliner and you’ll be done.’
She stood back and looked at him critically.
‘Very good,’ she said, satisfied. ‘Take a look.’
He turned and looked at himself in the mirror. The transformation was amazing. His hair had been rearranged and cut to a short but feminine bob. The make-up hardly showed. You would have to look very carefully to realise that any had been used, but the way in which the masculinity of his features had been softened and the femininity of his facial characteristics, the slight bow of his mouth and his high cheekbones had been emphasised made him almost unrecognisable.
‘Thank you, Sophie,’ he smiled. ‘That’s wonderful.’ He reached out towards her, just to thank her, but she drew back.
‘I’m glad you like it, but you mustn’t touch.’
‘Of course, I have to make sure that Mistress will be pleased, too. I will be punished if she feels I have let her down.’
He got up and walked carefully across to a tall mirror. He was not sure how he felt. He could see the bulge of his erect cock swelling and distorting the silk of his French knickers and could feel the subtle coldness around his balls, still unused to their nakedness. He wanted to take hold of Sophie and thrust deep inside her, pressing his face between those beautiful rounded breasts, but he also loved the feminine look she had given him and was captivated by the shape of his body, so female in the high heels, loose knickers and black top that softly flowed against his now hairless chest.
‘Stay here for a moment. I will see if Mistress is ready to receive you.’
She left him on his own and a tremor of apprehension ran through him. He suddenly realised how far and how quickly he had travelled the road to total submissiveness, an understanding that he knew now he had always had but, until now, had neither been understood or accepted. Sophie returned and held out her hand.
‘Mistress is ready... and you look lovely,’ she whispered.
She took him into a comfortable sitting room with light leather chairs and sofa, and a thick-pile cream carpet. Mistress was relaxed on one of the chairs, a
glass of red wine in her hand, her long, black silk stocking-clad legs encased in patent leather high-heeled boots draped over the arm. She was wearing a simple short black silk gown that clearly revealed that she had nothing on other than the leather suspender belt. Her full breasts were outlined against the silk, the nipples raising two points at the peak of the curves.
She swung around to face him, almost deliberately parting her legs to allow him a brief flash of her neatly trimmed bush, and smiled approvingly.
‘You have done well, Sophie. She looks very good.’
Sophie blushed, the colour rising quickly and prettily to her cheeks.
‘Thank you, Mistress,’ she replied formally, bobbing a small curtsey.
‘And you, Chloe. You look very nice. We are really going to make something of you, I think.’ He felt his colour rise too. The blush came quite naturally; something that, as himself, he would have been ashamed of. Now it seemed perfectly natural.
She got up, and Sophie whispered, ‘You should kneel.’ He carefully dropped to his knees, wobbling as all his weight transferred to one foot. It was difficult in the high-heeled shoes and he knew that the movement had been clumsy, but Mistress Amanda smiled.
‘Don’t worry, Chloe. You’re going to have plenty of chance to practice.’ She stroked his hair. ‘And we must do something about this. Grow it, then Sophie will cut it for you properly in a few weeks. It should be just right by the time you finish your training.’
Before he could begin to take in the implication of this last remark she ordered, ‘Hands, behind you. Sophie!’
He placed his hands behind his back and immediately felt the soft cuffs of a double band firmly hold his wrists together.
‘Occasionally, Chloe, someone arrives at my apartment that I recognise has potential - potential for conversion and potential for pain. I saw it in you immediately. You exhibited all the characteristics that my business needs. What is more, you impressed me last week and passed my initial tests with what I can only describe as flying colours. Hence your presence here today, and the beginning of your conversion.’
He opened his mouth to speak as he suddenly realised there might be far more to this experience than he had imagined. But Sophie was behind him, and quickly gagged him and knotted a black silk scarf at the back of his head. He was not sure whether he was experiencing concern or acquiescence, or a combination of both mingled with apprehension and a touch of delicious fear.
‘At the moment you just have to listen. Attend to what I say very carefully.
‘In a little while you will be given one, just one, opportunity to reject the contract I am going to offer you. I do not think you will reject it, but you will be free to go if you do so. Later, whenever I feel that it should be made available to you, you will have one further opportunity to withdraw. That might be weeks, months or even years in the future, but it will be entirely at my discretion.
‘You are exactly the material that I need and use in my business. It works well because those that I need also have need of what I provide for them. If you agree to my proposal then you will serve me and mine 24/7, as the saying goes. You will give yourself entirely to me, to do with what I will. You will need for nothing because you will be provided with everything you need - pain and discomfort along with humiliation and degradation. You will savour it all and be happy because your need to be used by women - and men occasionally - will be satisfied in a way that you cannot currently begin to comprehend.
‘Arrangements will be made for you to resign from your job, with a golden handshake. All your assets will be sold and then invested, very profitably, I might say, and will be available to you should you fail to reach the standards I will set you or should you decide to leave. I emphasise again; you will only have one further chance to make that decision after you sign the initial contract in a few days’ time.
‘Sophie may give you some information and answer some of your questions, and she may encourage you to join us; it is up to her how she does that. Like you, she is a submissive and she carries out my instruction to the letter. If I ask her to punish you she will not hesitate.
‘You are in charge of him for the present, Sophie. Begin the usual training regime. You may do with him what you please otherwise, but as you know, time is short. If you use him for your own pleasures make sure he suffers.’
She crouched down on her haunches in front of him, her gown opening to reveal her parted slit, and chucked him under the chin. ‘Yes, very pretty. You could do well.’
With that she rose and left him with Sophie, who still held him securely by the knot at the back of his neck.
Chapter Six
Sophie lifted him up and walked him slowly across the room, hitching a metal ring on the handcuffs to a hook in the wall. She turned and faced him and reached down, lifting the edge of the French knickers and moving her cool hand inside them, caressing his balls and sliding her palm across the knob of his cock.
‘I like the idea of being able to do what I want with you, Chloe. I always enjoy having a new trainee, but they only come along once in a while. And they have to be very special.’
She held his balls. They weighed heavily in her hand; taut, satin smooth and drawn up tight into his crotch as his cock strained upwards. She began to squeeze them, and with her other hand took down the drawers and snapped the elastic sharply behind them. She grasped his testicles with both hands and began to drag them down, stretching his skin drum-tight as she clamped her fists around each ball and squeezed the tender swellings hard. The hook around the handcuffs prevented him from falling down or forward without dislocating his shoulders, and he yelped through the gag.
‘That’s far too much noise, Chloe. You’ll disturb Mistress if you carry on like that. You must learn restraint.’
She reached around him, allowing her nipples under the silk of her top to brush against him, and un-knotted the scarf. He breathed deeply, glad to be able to drag fresh air into his lungs, but the freedom did not last for long as a solid ball slipped into his mouth and the attached strap pulled tight around his head. Sophie then took the scarf, damp from his breath, and blindfolded him.
‘Now come with me. I have something special for you.’ She giggled in anticipation, unhooked him and, holding his hand, led him slowly across the room and out into a corridor.
‘Training normally lasts for three weeks,’ she told him. ‘One week here helping serve Mistress’s regular clients, and then two weeks of intensive training out at the Abbey before being put to use by her special clients. But for some reason you are to be fast-tracked, so you may be ready to be of full service much more quickly. The clients Mistress entertains here are those who come, as you did, looking to fulfil some of their scarcely imagined dreams for a couple of hours. You will learn a great deal here and begin to understand the meaning of submission, pain, and the ways in which ordinary people want to use each other.
‘The Abbey is different. Those who go there fulfil their widest dreams in real life and in real time. If you come through your training then you will have the honour, as I have, of attending to the needs of those very special and unusual people.’
His balls ached and his mouth and throat were dry as he was taken along the corridor, acutely conscious of his powerful erection, and through a door into another room.
‘You will have your first session shortly,’ said Sophie. ‘There will be three, perhaps four more, and then you may choose to leave or to stay. I hope you stay.’
She pushed him back against a rough brick wall. ‘Spread your legs,’ she demanded, and he shuffled his feet apart, feeling the roughness of the bricks scraping his bottom through his knickers.
‘Wider,’ she commanded.
It was difficult. The heels of the shoes were at a sharp angle to the floor and the pressure on his ankles was intense. Then he had gone far enough, for he felt what were beginning to feel like familiar friends
; restraints wrapping snugly around his ankles. Sophie reached around him, her nipples brushing him once more, and released his hands from the cuffs.
‘Arms above your head and wide apart,’ she said, and obediently he followed her instructions and felt another pair of restraints around his wrists, clamping him back against the wall.
She undid the blindfold and reached up to kiss his closed eyes. He opened them and saw he was in a room that had been expertly fashioned into a dungeon. Rings, racks and cages were placed around the walls and hanging in groups were canes, lashes and paddles of every shape, size and material. He was quite powerless, and with the strength draining from his thighs and calves he was practically hanging by his arms. She knelt down in front of him.
‘My, you do have a pretty cock,’ she whispered. ‘Long and thick, too. Just what I like when I’m allowed to do what I want.’
Holding his balls tight she thrust his cock deep into her mouth, swallowing its whole length. He could feel the grip of her lips around the root, sucking on the smooth, closely shaved skin. Then her teeth gripped him and she rocked her head from side to side, scraping what felt like fine grooves along his length of tender flesh. He was unable to make a sound through the ball filling his mouth, but he writhed as his cock was wrenched up and down.
She let him go and he looked down, amazed that such a slight girl could completely take him inside her petite mouth. She laughed. ‘You’ll have to learn to do that. It needs lots of practice, like sword swallowing.’ She giggled again, slapping his balls as she got up and walked over to a shelf, from which she took down a horseshoe-shaped piece of metal with a projection holding a fine disc at one end. She held it up for him to examine. It was a spur, and he could see the sparkling serrations of the edge of the disc spinning between the arms as she flicked it round. It slowed to a stop and the sharp needles clearly indicated that this had been specially made - and not for horses.
