Company of Slaves

by Christina Shelly

  Strangely, it all seemed so natural, so instinctive – so right. I moaned with delight as I suckled and so did she. Indeed, within a few minutes, her moans had grown into semi-screams of pleasure, which reached a sexy crescendo with one very loud scream and a shudder of uncontrollable physical pleasure: a violent, noisy orgasm that both stunned and delighted me.

  She dropped my head back into her warm lap. The smell of her sex now filled the room, a sensual perfume of terrible promise.

  She pulled her entire body onto the bed and propped her head up against two very large, silk-encased pillows, her eyes still pinned to my equally prone sissy form.

  ‘Take my tights and panties off.’

  I pulled myself onto my knees and crawled over to her legs, my eyes still worshipping her incredible breasts.

  I fumbled with the thick nylon waistband of her tights and then very slowly pulled them down her long legs, the stink of her sex now quite overpowering. The panties were soaked through and as I carefully edged them over her hips and buttocks, she laughed like a schoolgirl.

  ‘Come on, you silly girl. Speed it up!’

  Soon, the panties and tights were beside the blouse and skirt and I found myself looking into the sensual cavern of delights between her legs, a dark blonde-haired sex, whose curly pubic hairs glistened with golden sex juice.

  ‘You know what I want, Shelly. Now get on with it.’

  Yes, I knew what she wanted. And as I lowered my painted face into the valley of her darkest physical need, I also knew this was a most sudden and brutal introduction to the strange pleasures of the female form. In the last few weeks, I had shared many intimacies with my aunt, but I had never experienced any direct physical experience of her form other than her expert lips milking me of the terrible, burning passion that made every day such a kinky delight. But now, in the last twenty minutes, the strange, beautiful, powerful woman had shown me all there was to see. And as my lips pressed anxiously against her soaking and very thick bush of pubic hair, as I gagged against the furiously pungent and erotic taste and smell of her, I was going beyond the physical into the very heart of female desire itself.

  Perhaps surprisingly, my tongue quickly found my way through this honey-coloured forest and between her soft, soaking sex lips. She squealed with a terrible, primal delight as I lapped up her sex juices and tickled her clit. I slowly drowned in her cum and sex stink and, eventually, was forced to pull away from her in order to suck up life-giving air. But she immediately insisted I return to my sissy chore, and this was the way we continued for some twenty-odd minutes, until her squeals turned into a scream of ecstasy and I collapsed between her powerful, shapely thighs.

  ‘You can go to your room now,’ she mumbled, her eyes closed, sleep already enveloping her.

  I climbed off the bed and staggered from the room, my make-up ruined, my face and hair covered in her cum, the beautiful, dreadful taste and smell of her cunt filling my mouth and nose.

  In my room, I stripped and showered my tested, shaven form. I carefully dried and powdered myself, then slipped into my favourite pink silk baby doll and matching panties before climbing onto my bed. Never before had the urge to masturbate been so strong. Never before had the power of my own desire been so utterly unbearable. Despite the shower, my whole body seemed to reek of her juices, and my hand slid into my panties with a will of its own, seeking out my hard, tormented cock and teasing it in a matter of seconds to a most terrible orgasmic explosion that left me screaming into the night and my panties utterly flooded with my thick semen.

  The force of this coming was quite overwhelming, and I was asleep before I could summon up the effort to clean myself.

  * * *

  I was awoken by my aunt early the next morning. I opened my eyes and found myself staring up at a vision of incredibly mature beauty, a gorgeous, sensual woman dressed in a knee-length black cotton skirt, black tights and a semi-transparent white silk blouse, her hair tied in a tight bun and, to my surprise, her eyes filled with anger.

  ‘What’s this!?’ she snapped.

  I followed her eyes down my body to discover that she had thrown back the sheets to expose my baby doll and, more importantly, the now semen-encrusted panties.

  ‘I…I couldn’t help it.’

  She leaned forward and very roughly pulled me from the bed. Shocked by this sudden display of aggression and power, I squealed a pathetic ‘please’ before being dragged across the room to the dressing table. My aunt then sat down on the leather-backed dressing table stool and hauled me across her nylon-sheathed knees.

  ‘How dare you!’ she shouted. ‘You know masturbation is strictly forbidden. You know that you receive release when I decide…through the privilege of the milking.’

  I tried again to apologise, amazed by the level of anger and this new, harder personality. But she wasn’t listening to anything I had to say. Instead, she grabbed a hairbrush from the dressing table, hauled down my stained panties and then administered a hard, sharp, unforgiving spanking – twelve fierce blows that inspired a loud symphony of sissy squeals, thick, fast flowing tears and a soon deeply crimson-coloured pair of pert sissy buttocks.

  All of this took maybe two minutes, but it felt like two hours, and when she was finished, she virtually threw me onto the floor and I found my tear-soaked face only inches from a pair of stiletto-heeled, black patent leather court shoes, terrified and, to my astonishment, violently erect.

  ‘Get into the shower and wash, then come back out here immediately,’ she snapped, tears beginning to well up in her own gorgeous eyes. ‘You’ve got ten minutes. If you’re not back here by then, I’ll give you another twenty-four whacks.’

  I climbed to my feet and wiggle minced into the bathroom, my poor bottom on fire, tears pouring from my eyes and my cock so hard I thought it would explode with the unbearable tension of its rigidity.

  Still sobbing with pain and shock, I quickly stripped naked, showered and then rather carefully dried myself. All the time there was one simple fact I just could not put out of my mind: how aroused I had been by the spanking, how sexy my aunt’s angry strength had been, the terrible excitement of being so utterly helpless before her.

  Naked, furiously erect and very nervous, I wiggled back out into the bedroom and performed a very tiny bob curtsey before my aunt.

  She beheld me with a withering gaze and I felt my heart skip a beat.

  ‘You’ve let me down, Shelly. I’m very disappointed in you.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Auntie.’

  ‘Your apology isn’t good enough, I’m afraid. If you can’t control yourself, then I will just have to do it for you. From now on, things are going to be very different between us.’

  I nodded weakly.

  ‘For a start, you will now be subject to a much firmer regime of discipline and control. From today, you should regard yourself as nothing more than my personal maid-servant, and you will be treated and dressed accordingly. Also, you should know that I have decided to send you to the SMC training school in July.’

  My heart stopped, my mouth dropped open. A look of hurt astonishment crossed my face.

  ‘But…’

  ‘Shut up!’

  I fell silent, stunned by the ferocity of my aunt’s response.

  ‘You will talk only when given permission. If you do not follow this basic rule, you will be gagged. Do you understand?’

  I nodded, weak with shock and arousal.

  ‘From now on you will indicate assent by a curtsey. Do you understand?’

  I curtsied and my aunt nodded. ‘Good. Now let’s get you ready for breakfast.’

  I was made to sit down before the dressing table mirror. A very slight foundation was applied to my face, along with only a hint of cherry-red lipstick. No other make-up was used, but my body was submerged in a cloud of very expensive rose-scented perfume. She then led me back over to the bed. Set out upon it was a spectacular collection of clothing perfectly defining my new role. And as I looked down at this e
xplosion of feminine dainties, I knew the decision to subject me to a regime of more severe control had very little do with my semen-stained panties. Indeed, I suspected the panties incident had just been a bonus, a fortuitous excuse to justify a plan already well hatched by my aunt and Lady Emily Ashcroft.

  Before me was a very sheer black nylon body stocking, a rather strange looking black rubber G-string, a black elastane panty girdle, a pair of white silk panties covered in hooped layers of lace frilling, a black satin and rubber mini-corset and the most glorious black satin French maid’s costume, complete with an ocean of frou-frou petticoating, and at its side was a lovely white silk pinafore. Also, on the floor by the bed were a pair of gleaming, black patent leather court shoes with startling five-inch stiletto heels.

  I looked down at this amazing display and felt my knees weaken with desire.

  ‘You look quite overwhelmed, Shelly,’ my aunt teased, her tone slightly less aggressive.

  ‘It’s all so…beautiful.’

  ‘Yes. And considering how you’ve misbehaved, you should think yourself lucky I’m not putting you in a nappy and baby clothes.’

  She then helped me to dress, first guiding the strange black rubber G-string up my silky smooth legs and very gently slipping it over my terribly aroused sex. It was basically a very tight rubber pouch that imprisoned my sex and, via narrow rubber cords that slipped between my legs and around my waist, held it firmly against my lower stomach. Next was the body stocking, a marvellously erotic piece of fetish wear that covered my form from painted toes to slender neck. Below the waist it was basically a pair of tights, but above the waist it was a long-sleeved shirt of the sheerest, softest nylon which kissed and caressed my sissified form and inspired a helpless moan of pleasure.

  The body stocking was quickly followed by the foundation wear: the tight, sex-flattening panty girdle and the lung-squeezing corset. By now, I had become accustomed to the torment of corsets, but today my aunt was determined to make me suffer, and the sweet tactile pleasures inspired by the body stocking were quickly undermined by a tortuous pressure.

  As soon as I was strapped tightly into the corset, I was made to struggle into the cream silk panties, with their lovely layers of hooped frilling. As I pulled them up over my hosed knees, the corset dug painfully into my sides. Yet, as I pulled them up over my backside and positioned them around my waist, a new pleasure was beginning to torment my sissy body. The stinging memory of the spanking had faded into a strange, far from unpleasant heat, which was now spreading quickly across my hosed and girdled panties and between my legs. And by the time my gorgeous, stern aunt held up the stunning maid’s dress before me, the heat had travelled across my balls and was working its way up my rubberised sex.

  As Aunt Jane helped me to step into the gorgeous dress, a sense of overwhelming submissive delight flooded my body. The heat in my sex, the kiss of the body-enveloping nylon, the strange pleasure of the corset’s control and restraint; all of this combined and I released a loud moan of sissy arousal.

  ‘You little slut,’ my aunt whispered, her own voice edged with sex. ‘You horny little slut.’

  Her teasing, harsh words served to make me even more excited.

  ‘I should have spanked you much harder. But would it have made any difference? I suspect not. I suspect the more I abuse you, the more you’ll like it. Isn’t that true?’

  She then carefully buttoned up the back of the dress, a slow process that involved some twenty pearl buttons running from the very base of the dress right up to the back of the very high, lace-frilled neck, a process that left me tightly sealed in shimmering black satin.

  The wide skirt billowed at almost a ninety degree angle thanks to the thick layers of frou-frou petticoating and my ultra-frilly panties were clearly visible. This humiliating exposure only increased my now very deep masochistic arousal and my aunt slapped my thighs hard as I found myself moaning quite involuntarily yet again.

  ‘Be quiet! Any more noise and I’ll gag you with my panties!’

  She knew every word was driving me crazy with desire and that to be gagged with her panties would be a true delight. I was being teased and tormented to the point of madness; I was being led very willingly down a road towards my absolute enslavement. I was in heaven!

  After the dress, my aunt slipped the gorgeous, shimmering silk pinafore over my shoulders and then tied it in place around my waist with a very fat sissy bow at the base of my back. It was only then that I noticed a large red silk heart beautifully sewn into the chest section of the pinafore and the words ‘Sissy Shelly’ printed in an elegant hand directly across the centre of the heart.

  Next came the shoes, the amazing, testing shoes. She helped me step into them, a wide sadistic smile lighting up her beautiful face. I released a tiny squeal of fear as I found myself elevated five inches into the air, and then I was swaying before her like a helpless baby tree at the mercy of a robust autumn breeze.

  It took nearly ten minutes before I could take a step without losing my balance. And another five before I had the courage to put two steps together. Yet, eventually, I began to appreciate the dynamic of movement demanded by these spectacular shoes: tiny steps inspiring a helpless wiggle of the buttocks and a provocative swaying of the hips.

  ‘Very good,’ my aunt encouraged as I began to mince around the room, now delighting in my new-found skill and the overwhelming sense of sissy femininity it sent coursing through my so delicately feminised form.

  ‘Now it’s time to serve breakfast, Shelly. Are you ready?’

  I made a slight, apprehensive curtsey and she smiled.

  ‘Good. And one last thing: from now on you will refer to be as Mistress or Mistress Jane, not Auntie or Aunt. Understand?’

  Amazed, I curtsied.

  Her smile expanded maybe a millimetre. ‘Now follow me.’

  I was led from my room in an exquisite state of fear and arousal. I tottered fearfully behind my stunning aunt, my eyes pinned to her splendid backside and long, black nylon-sheathed legs. My sex stretched angrily against its strange rubber restraint and my heart pounded against the wall of my chest. I was simpering Sissy Shelly, her wiggling, mincing maidservant. And I was loving every second of this glorious silken servitude.

  My aunt helped me descend the now precarious stairs and, her hand still firmly gripping mine, I was led into the large kitchen.

  I tottered into the kitchen and discovered Lady Ashcroft and Miss Gillette seated at the circular kitchen table drinking black coffee and eating French pastries.

  Both appeared significantly hung over and the eyes that turned upon my sissy form were distinctly bloodshot.

  ‘I say!’ Miss Gillette exclaimed. ‘You’ve surpassed yourself, Jane. She’s perfectly gorgeous!’

  I curtsied before the two obviously very amused women, helplessly displaying my befrilled panties and quite overwhelmed by the now very familiar mixture of total humiliation and intense excitement.

  ‘The dress looks quite excellent on her,’ Lady Ashcroft whispered, her red-eyed gaze swallowing me up with haunting and embarrassing memories of the previous evening’s strange adventure. ‘She was made to be a maid.’

  The women laughed and I was led to the edge of the table. I was then made to stand before the women, my legs tightly together, my hands behind my back, so that I could undergo an even closer examination.

  ‘She’s been wanking in the night,’ Aunt Jane snapped, as she sat down next to Miss Gillette.

  My eyes widened in horror and, it must be said, some anger.

  ‘I take it you punished her,’ Lady Ashcroft responded, her eyes never leaving mine.

  ‘A very hard spanking. I was bloody angry.’

  ‘Good. But it’s not enough. It never is. You either cut it off or subject it to proper and permanent restraint.’

  Tears of terror began to well up in my eyes and the women seemed to take a very real, sadistic pleasure both in Lady Ashcroft’s cruel words and my pathetic sissy reaction
.

  ‘What’s permanent restraint?’ Miss Gillette asked, her eyes seeking out my petticoats and stocking tops.

  ‘SMC has developed a very effective rubber restrainer and a variety of silver cock rings. When combined they ensure complete control and absolute obedience.’

  ‘Can I see them?’ My aunt’s harsh, immediate response shocked me.

  ‘Of course, I’ll put a sample in the post as soon as I get back. I think you’ll find an anal plug will also be very helpful.’

  A teardrop of despair trickled across my painted cheeks and my aunt’s smile widened.

  For the next thirty or so minutes the women discussed my sissy future and I was forced to listen as if a mere mannequin, a mindless toy built for the strange amusements of these cruel, gorgeous women.

  It was made clear that my training would begin that very day and that Lady Ashcroft would be taking a very personal interest in my development. I looked at her and tried to hide the excitement produced by this delicious fact. In her eyes I saw a simple truth: we would meet again and I would be expected to service her in exactly the same way as I had the previous evening.

  Miss Gillette and Lady Ashcroft left together about an hour later. As Miss Gillette kissed my aunt goodbye, something very strange happened: the tall, busty blonde let her hand stray across my aunt’s own chest and very obviously squeezed her left breast, a squeeze that inspired a sudden gasp of very clear pleasure.

  ‘I really enjoyed last night, Janey,’ Miss Gillette whispered. ‘It was so good to be with you again. Just like old times.’

  My aunt, her eyes glazed, smiled mysteriously and nodded.

  ‘Just like old times,’ she repeated.

  I curtsied goodbye to the women and then followed my aunt back into the house, the first stage of my feminisation complete, the second about to begin.