Vicious Beach – Perfect Choice (part two)

Troy was near collapse as the timer read 00:59. The last twenty minutes had been hell with his legs alternating between burning pain and agonizing numbness. And now as the last minute slowly diminished he was sure that he would never be able to make it to the end. His erection had ebbed long ago and now slapped feeblely against his thighs with every step.
Adding to his humiliation was the constant uttering of the plea for silk thong panties. Exhaustion and repetition had rendered his voice dry and raspy. No longer recognizable as his own, he seemed to have taken on a sharp womanly whisper as he tried to sound as feminine as possible.
“Please Mistress, may I have a pretty pair of lace thong panties?” The words echoed down the hall to his Mistress as she slowly ascended the stairs.
She had showered and carefully chosen an outfit that accentuated her curves and did not leave much to the imagination. A tight fitting, spaghetti strap, midriff baring camisole top, made of black stretch lace, and a matching pair of stretch lace boy short panties would be more than sexy enough to keep his attention. Especially given the built-in bra with the push-up underwire cups that pushed her ample breasts together down the plunging neckline of the cami top. A sexy pair of black leather shoes with a four inch platform sole and eight inch heels completed the outfit. She had pulled her hair into a twist behind her head, a few curly, loose strands framing her face flirtatiously. Every aspect of her appearance was carefully calculated to present the most seductive and intimidating woman possible. Right down to the silver handled riding crop held loosely in her hand.
“Did you miss me slut?” she asked, entering the room just as the treadmill beeped it’s conclusion.
“Yes Mistress,” Troy replied, his eyes flashing quickly from her face to the riding crop.
She tapped it lightly against her leg as he stared at her. “Well,” she said impatiently. “What are you waiting for? Get over here!”
Troy stepped off the treadmill weakly, every muscle from his ankles to his hips jelly. He could not bear to look at her as he strutted over to where she stood, only able to look at the ground at her feet.
“Look at me slut,” she whispered. She brought the leather tip of the crop underneath his chin, raising his eyes to hers. In her ultra-high heels they were now eye level and as she looked into his eyes she could feel his heart trembling, his will bending, his soul succumbing.
“You’ve made quite an improvement my dear…” she mused.
“Thank y…”
“But,” she said quickly, “you’re still much too…rough, to be a woman. Turn around and pick up that towel on the floor.”
Troy turned around and knelt, moving to retrieve the discarded towel. Before he could even begin his Mistress grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked him to his feet.
“Try again slut,” she scolded. “This time, bend as far as you can from your waist, then bend your knees. That’s how every little femme-slut does it, using every opportunity to show off her cute little ass. And since that’s what you are that’s the way you’ll do it.”
“Yes Mistress,” Troy answered.
“Every time.” She emphasized her words with a quick swat of the crop as he bent over, a bright red rectangle on his butt in it’s wake. “And don’t make believe you can’t touch your toes either. Remember I’ve seen you do it.”
“Yes Mistress.” Troy picked up the towel as quickly as he could, his knees buckling, his ass high in the air, the perfect target for another well aimed strike.
“I believe you had something you wanted to ask me,” she demanded.
“Yes Mistress.” he responded quickly.
“Well?”
Troy looked at her, completely unnerved and utterly humiliated and uttered his request.
“Please Mistress, may I have a pair of lace thong panties? “
“Do you think you deserve them slut?’ she asked fighting back a smile.
“Yes Mistress,” he answered. Troy realized his mistake as soon as he felt the leather crop pressing firmly against his testicles.
“I’ll tell you what you deserve you stupid bitch!” she yelled. “And I can tell just by looking at you that you’ve got a long way to go before I give you the privilege of wearing a pair of panties.”
Troy bowed his head in discouragement, realizing that he was helplessly inept at pleasing her.
“Don’t look so sad,” she teased. “I’d hate to see you give up so easily. You do want them don’t you slut?”
“Yes Mistress,” Troy responded, “very much.”
“I know you do,” she agreed.
She circled him slowly, letting the tip of the riding crop whisper over his skin “But before you can put them on you’re going to have to become much more convincing, which means more feminine…and I have a few suggestions.”
“Ye…yes Mistress…” Troy said uneasily.
“First I think you’d be alot sexier if you shaved your legs and your torso,” she suggested. “Will you do that for me sweetie?”
“Yes Mistress.”
“And your make-up is horrible,” she sneered. “You have very pretty blue eyes and with the right combination of eyeshadow, eyeliner and mascara we can make them even prettier. And of course I have a few shades of lipstick that would match your slutty personality. How does that sound?”
“Very nice Mistress.” Troy responded.
“You’re going to have to kiss my ass to get it…” she teased. “Literally. Now get down on your knees and show me how badly you want to please me.”
Troy knelt obediently at her feet, submissive and docile. As she turned around in front of him the sight of her lace covered hips and the skin of her buttocks that was left exposed was more than he could manage. His penis was growing even before his lips made contact with her firm, round and tanned buttocks. Her body was fragrant and warm and Troy let his mouth linger as long as he dared, his desire for her threatening to overtake him if he waited much longer. As he pulled back he realized his weakness. His penis was protruding wickedly from his groin, one touch all it took to arouse him.
She turned around, her eyes immediately finding his ill-advised erection, her beautiful face clouding with anger. “It seems that you’re still intent on being a bad girl…”
“Mistress…I…”
She brought the tip of the crop under his chin, raising his head. She bent down, her breasts spilling forward, threatening to escape the confines of her top. “If I hear another thing out of your mouth other than ‘Yes Mistress’ right now it will be a long time before you’ll be able to sit comfortably again. Understood?”
“Yes Mistress…”
“Now you listen to me you pathetic little slut,” she said, “What the fuck did I tell you about letting you girl-cock get hard without permission?”
“That it showed how pathetic and weak I was…” Troy answered.
“And…”
“It showed how much I wanted to be dominated and punished…”
“Well since spanking you didn’t work last time perhaps I will have to find something a little more humiliating and painful to teach you a lesson…”
Troy looked into her beautiful face his fear growing as an evil smile formed on her lips.
“Stand up and follow me,” she said. “I think I have the perfect thing.”
Troy scrambled to his feet, panicked by the thought of something more painful than the merciless spanking she had administered earlier.
She pulled a step-up stool from beneath the rack of weights and placed it between Troy’s feet.
“On your knees whore,” she said slapping him on the hip with the crop. “Clasp your hands behind your back.”
Growing more uneasy as each second passed Troy obeyed. Yet his arousal remained.
She pushed down on his shoulders until his buttocks were perched on the edge of the stool, then nudged it forward slightly with one foot. His testicles were now pushed forward, laying flat on the coarse, granular surface of the stool. His girl-cock still throbbing above them. She stepped lightly upon his genitals, slowly grinding them beneath the platform toe of her shoe.
“How does that feel bitch?” she asked.
“It…huh huurrrtsss….” he shrieked.
She held him in place by a handful of his hair sneering at him as he
winced in pain.
“Not the answer I was looking for…” She placed her heel on his testicle, threatening to puncture the skin at any moment, knowing the pain was not too extreme but the fear of the unknown even worse.
“I’m a bad girl and I deserve to be punished…”
“Is that what I told you to say?” she asked. “I don’t think so!” She pressed her heel down harder forcing a whimper from between his pursed lips.
“I’m s..ss..sorry I was a b..b.bad girl Mistress, I am weak and de..de..deserve to be punished….”
“Yes,” she replied, rolling the sole of her shoe across his tortured penis. “Yes, you do.” She pushed his head forward forcing him to watch as she systematically abused his genitals. Alternating between the broad, flat surface of her platform sole and the biting point of her eight inch heel she dispensed pain with ease, every muffled yelp and whimper feeding her dominance.
“Is this what you wanted slut?”
“Yes Mistress…”
She knew Troy would lie. “So you’d rather have me mash your pathetic girl-cock under my foot than be spanked?”
Troy recognized the trap, and knew there was no escaping it. He was also smart enough to know that the punishment would be worse if he retracted his statement.
“Yes Mistress…” he cried as she ground the head of his now limp penis into the stool.
“Very well then…” She paused, raising her foot a few inches before bringing in down perfectly on his genitals, crushing his testicles on final time before releasing him.
He collapsed forward, writhing in agony, white hot needles of pain so powerful that it took him a moment to realize that he was being pulled slowly to his knees.
“That’s it,” she said as she pulled him to her, “breathe. It’s all over…” She smiled triumphantly as he sobbed, pressing his tear soaked cheek into her stomach. She whispered softly to him, stroking his hair as he blubbered apology after apology. “I know sweetie, I know.”
“Are you through being a bad girl?” she asked softly.
Troy nodded slowly, “Yes Mistress.”
“Very good,” she said. “Can you stand up now?”
“Yes Mistress,” he replied as he composed himself and pulled himself to his feet.
“I’m sorry I was so harsh,” she said, “but I had to make sure you were worthy.”
Troy didn’t respond, unsure of what the correct response to that was.
“I promised you a reward earlier, yes?”
“Yes Mistress.”
She took his penis in her hand lightly, gently stroking it. “Make your girl-cock hard for me, show me how badly you want those panties.”
Troy was shocked by the sudden change in her demeanor. Shocked and pleasantly surprised. She leaned into him, her other hand, still holding the crop, slid across his shoulder and she kissed him deeply, her tongue affectionately massaging his. He softly returned her kiss, not wanting to seem to eager, remaining submissive to her touch. She kissed him for what seemed like hours and as she pulled away she kept his throbbing member firmly in her hand, skillfully stroking him.
“Ask me again slut,” she whispered.
“Please Mistress,” he asked. “May I have a pair of lace thong panties? “
“Do you want to be my pretty little femme?” she asked.
“Yes Mistress,” he moaned, her subtle manipulations easing his confession.
She knew he was close to orgasm, and with a few more strokes he would be cumming in her hand. She withdrew her hand slowly, looking down with smug satisfaction at his throbbing erection.
“You see my dear,” she said softly, “I can also bring you great pleasure. If you would like more pleasure I suggest you remain obedient. Because I will only treat you as well as your behavior dictates. Understood?”
“Yes Mistress,” Troy replied. The dull ache of pain had not yet subsided, but it was slowly giving way to the pleasant stimulation she had administered. Her sudden act of compassion had stirred something within him, and it seemed that despite his best efforts he was completely at her mercy. He could only stare at her wondering why he suddenly felt quite at ease with it.
She noticed the way he looked at her and struggled not to lose her composure, instead she just smiled a bit and took him softly by the hand. “Come with me sweetie, lets make you pretty.” He followed behind her obediently, walking as she had instructed him. She led him down the stairs, unable to get the picture of his face out of his head. The way he looked at her was as if he had never seen her before, the conflicting emotions she caused within him not allowing him to think clearly, leaving him open to her direction. The less he protested the better.
“Would you please grab the glasses and the pitcher on the bar?” she asked as they passed them.
Troy picked up the heavy glass pitcher full of orange juice and vodka, which smelled more like vodka than juice, and the delicate stemware careful not to spill any of the screwdriver on the carpet. He walked slowly towards her, the decreased speed amplifying his pronounced feminine gait. She pointed down the hall towards the bathroom and he could feel his face reddening as he passed her, her hand falling lightly on the small of his back ushering him inside.
“Set them down on the vanity and pour one for the both of us,” she told him. “I’ll be with you momentarily.”
She opened the door to her bedroom and flicked on the radio, the XM radio filling the entire master suite with the soft sound of a jazz trumpet. The smooth melody drifted slowly over her, relaxing her tension and washing away the anger that had filled her moments ago. She didn’t like the violence but it was a neccesary evil to get him to submit. She preferred using her sexuality to entice him so much more, and she thoroughly enjoyed the spankings, but when she had the overwhelming urges to hurt him it took all her strength to step back from the edge. She took a deep, cleansing breath and joined Troy in the bathroom.
“Before we begin,” she said as she entered, “I want you to tell me what, if anything, you are allergic to.”
“Nothing Mistress,” he replied.
“Very good.” She smiled and picked up the two full glasses of vodka and orange juice, offering the one with the pink straw to Troy. “To the pleasure of submission, for you and for me,” she toasted, a vicious smile adorning her lips.
“To the pleasure of submission,” Troy repeated, “for you and for me.” He took a slurp, stifling a cough as the harsh alcohol hit the back of his throat.
“Finish it sweetie,” she commanded tilting the bottom of the glass with the riding crop. She watched with glee as he sucked down the entire glass, leaving not a drop. She took it from him when he had finished and pointed him toward the large glass shower in the back of the bathroom. “I want you to clean yourself, but use only cold water. You’ll find a bar of soap and a loofa on the shelf in there. You have five minutes.”
“Yes Mistress,” Troy replied, quickly bending over to remove his shoes. He scurried into the shower and turned the gold knob marked “C’. Shockingly frigid water descended on him from five different shower heads, the hard needles of spray,one above his head, two just below his chest and two more at his hips, feeling like thousands of tiny icicles on his flesh. He turned around, trying to relieve the agony on his testicles, but he nearly screamed aloud when the water made contact with the raw flesh of his buttocks. He turned around again, backing up as far as he could but the shallow area afforded him little relief. He reached for the soap and began to lather up.
She watched his antics with a quiet curiosity, knowing what would happen, but not knowing what his reaction would be. She had adjusted the spray, usually at a soft spray, to the hard needles he felt after she had finished with her shower. He was in obvious pain but he seemed to be willing himself through it. Another good sign, she thought to herself. She grabbed a large bath towel from the linen closet and layed it flat on the floor at the entrance to the shower room.
She had made a point of it to turn up the central air before she went
back upstairs and when he exited his well maintained body was tense and shivering. Th
e water dripped from his body and the sight of him wet and naked sent a shiver through her own body, but not because of the cold.
“Just stand on the towel and let me have a look at you femme,” she said trying not to reveal her lust. She tapped at his shrunken genitals, laughing softly at his wrinkled balls pulled tightly to his crotch, his penis limp and ineffective above them. “Turn around, bend over and spread your legs.”
Troy obeyed, still shivering, feeling less and less comfortable as each second passed.
“Wider little girl,” she said, tapping the inside of his thighs with the crop. “Put your feet all the way to edge of the towel.”
He shuddered as he spread his legs even farther, dreading what unspeakable plan she had for him.
“That’s better,” she said stepping out of the way of the camera, mounted in the mirror above her sink. “Now tell me, are you ready to become my sissified little femme?
“Yes Mistress,” Troy replied, unwittingly staring, albeit upside down, into the mirror behind him.
“And do you promise to do what I tell you, to serve me, to please me…”
“Yes Mistress.”
“Do you give yourself to me, body, mind and soul, forgoing any other sexual pleasure but what I allow?”
“Yes Mistress.”
“If you break any of these promises, do you understand that you will be punished by whatever means I see fit?”
“Yes Mistress.”
“And do you also understand that if at anytime you wish our relationship to end you may do so by leaving me the way I found you?”
“Yes Mistress.”
“Do you wish to leave now femme?”
“No Mistress.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” she sighed. ” Now I want you to pick a safe word.”
“Mistress?” he asked, confused.
“A word that you can say that will let me know when you’ve had enough and don’t feel like you can possibly continue…” she explained. “But not a word like ‘stop’, ‘please’ or any other word that can be uttered in the throes of passion. Understand?”
“Yes Mistress, I thin…AAHH!”
She swatted him sternly across his right buttock, his wet skin accenting the force of the blow.
“A simple ‘Yes Mistress’ will do,” she said. “Or ‘Whatever you desire Mistress’ unless I ask you a question that requires a specific answer. Got it?”
“Yes Mistress.”
“Good. Now tell me what have you decided?”
“Whatever you desire Mistress.”
“That’s good femme, you’re learning.” She smiled broadly knowing immediately what she would use. No other word would seem quite right, and it was a word she had already used to describe him. “Your safe word will be ‘perfect’.”
“Yes Mistress.” The word sounded just right to Troy although he hoped to never use it.
“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way I think we can begin.” She said laying the crop on the marble counter.
She picked up a cordless trimmer from it’s base and turned it on, it’s frantic buzz making her wish for something else entirely. But that would have to wait. “Ready, my sweet?” she asked.
“Y..y..yes Mistress,” Troy stammered.
She placed the razor on his right thigh, the goose pimples on his skin raising the moist hair precisely as she pulled the trimmer up the length of his thigh leaving a path of short stubble in it’s wake. She did no expect to shave him clean, only remove the bulk of the hair before removing it entirely with a few bottles of depilatory cream. But that was later. Right now she was enjoying shaving up and down the crack of his ass, letting the head of the trimmer linger behind his balls and over the tightly puckered asshole. When she had finished with his lower body she commanded him to turn around and stand up, but keep his legs spread. She ran the razor down his chest and stomach, pausing briefly above his pubic hair, leaving it until last. She finished quickly, moving with practiced ease and then went to work on his still withered genitals.
She took his penis in her hand forcing it back between his spread legs, pressing it against his balls firmly with her palm. She then began to shave around the base of his cock, leaving a small strip of hair the width of his penis right above it. She then cut across the top of it leaving about two inches of it left and followed that by raising the guard and trimming the strip of pubic hair, leaving slightly longer than the rest. She released him and stepped back admiring her work for just a moment before lifting his penis and holding it to his stomach, effectively pulling his testicles forward. She buzzed his balls slowly, feeling the unique sensation bound to stimulate him. It had it’s desired effect and when she released his penis it bobbed out in front of him, a tell-tale sign of arousal.
“You’ve enjoyed that I see,” she teased.
“Yes Mistress,” he answered fearfully.
“Don’t worry sweetie,” she said smiling, “I don’t expect you to maintain discipline when I’m holding your penis specifically. Even the most pure little priss wouldn’t be able to resist their mistress’ touch. Go rinse yourself off now, and be thorough, because for every stray piece of hair I find on you, you’ll get five strokes from my riding crop.”
Troy retreated to the shower again, once again at the mercy of the cold needles of water. His erection ebbed quickly under the onslaught of frigid liquid yet he could only move slowly, terrified at the prospect of feeling the sharp bite of the crop again. He knew he was destined for failure but he wanted to keep the pain to a minimum as he was sure this was not the last test he would have to pass. He heard her call his name after about five minutes and he turned the water off reluctantly, even though he was once again shivering uncontrollably.
“Let’s see how we did,” she said as she opened a towel in front of him directing him to step into it. She dried him off roughly, squeezing and twisting him this way and that until his body was reasonably dry. She did not touch his head choosing instead to pull his hair back into a loose ponytail with a bright yellow scrunchie. When she had finished she spread the towel on the cold tile floor and directed him to pick off any stray hairs.
Troy knelt in front of her and set about his task thankfully only finding four.
“That’s twenty you owe me girlie,” she said sternly. “Would you like them now or later?”
“Whatever you desire Mistress,” he answered.
“I think they can wait,” she said, adding, “I have more important things to do right now. Step on the towel and assume the same position as before.”
“Yes Mistress.”
Once he had bent over in front of her she dabbed a small amount of petroleum jelly on her index finger and applied it to the rim of his anus explaining, “This is to protect you from any of the cream from going inside you, I can tell you that it is not a feeling that you would want to experience. Therefore keep still and I’ll do my best not to let that happen.”
Troy felt her applying the tingling cream to his ankles thighs and buttocks, the acrid smell of the depilatory raising the bile in his throat. When she stood him up it squashed between his buttocks, and suddenly began to grow warmer. He realized now how much it would’ve burned had it been inside of him. The cream he noticed was two different colors, white around his legs and torso and a deep green around his groin and buttocks. She explained that one was for his bikini line where the hair is notoriously tougher. He nodded in acknowledgement, the realization of the feminine context of her words making his own catch in his throat.
“There now all finished,” she exclaimed, obviously excited. “I think you’ll be very happy with the results. After a few minutes you’re going to step into the bathtub and I’ll clean you off and then I’ll shave your balls. Sound like fun?”
“Yes Mistress,” he lied, not excited at all about having a razor that close to his crotch.
“That’s correct missy, because they’re no longer yours anyway, they’re mine.” She emphasized her point by playfully bouncing them in her hand, and drumming on them rhythmically with her fingers.
“Yes Mistress,” he conceded.
“And so is this
.” She grabbed his penis with her other hand gently stroking it. “And I’ll do with them as I see f
it. So from now on if I catch you touching them without my permission I have a special punishment that I know you won’t enjoy.”
“Yes Mistress.”
“I’m going to run the water in the bath and I want you to remember the last time you jerked off,” she said, “because it was the last time you’ll be doing it without wearing panties and I don’t want you to forget it.”
Troy didn’t have to think hard. It had been yesterday morning in the shower. He had been thinking about Heidi, his hot young personal assistant, with her flawless tits and the ass that didn’t quit. Only twenty-four with blond hair, deep blue eyes and face made for portraits he thought about her often but had never made a move, as it would be career suicide. But he had fantasized about her more than once. And now it seemed he would never be able to again?
“Mistress?” he called.
“What is it sweetie?”
“What did you mean ‘the last time without wearing panties’?”
“Exactly what I said,” she replied. “You’re not to touch your girl-cock or your sac without a pair of panties on. Unless of course you are washing them or you’re tucking them between your legs to use the toilet. Understand?”
“Yes Mistress,” he replied, regretful and sad.
“But once you’ve cum in your panties,” she said, “you’ll be begging me to do it again. I promise. Sweet little femmes like you always do.”
“Yes Mistress.”
“The water’s ready, come over here.”
Troy climbed into the tub, warm water up to his ankles. He was having a hard time coping with the fact that he would never be able to masturbate again when he felt her hand encircle his cock again, caressing him with long, deliberate strokes.
“Unless of course you’d rather have me do it for you, hmm?”
“What…whatever you desire Mistress…” he moaned.
“I think I can’t wait to watch you cum in your pretty little panties, I think that when you cum in your panties you’re going to wish you had done it sooner, I think that after you’ve cum in your panties that’s the only way you’ll ever want to cum…ever…again…”
A tiny bead of pre-cum glistened on the tip of Troy’s penis when she released him, falling uselessly into the flow of water at his feet.
“Did I give you permission to let your girl-cock drip bitch?” she said angrily.
“No Mistress.”
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I’m sorry Mistress, I’m a bad girl and I deserve to be punished.”
“You still have a little bit of slut in you that comes out whenever I talk about your panties,” she observed. She began wiping his legs with a warm washcloth, removing the cream from his calf along with the remains of his hair. “I bet you’ve even worn a pair before haven’t you?”
“Wha..No Mistress!”
“C’mon, I know you’re lying,” she coaxed, “What color were they?” She continued to clean him, now almost finished with both legs.
“Mistress, please…” he pleaded.
“What color were they?” she repeated. “Black, or maybe red….pink perhaps?”
“I…didn’t…I…I never…”
“Yes you did sweetie,” she said, “and my guess is you liked it so much that it scared the shit out of you. Maybe an animal print then? A cute little pair of leopard print bikini briefs?”
“….” Troy was stunned that she could know his secret, right down to the leopard print pattern.
“That’s it isn’t it?!” she exclaimed. “I knew you were a femme. Tell me how it happened…”
“Mistress…” he begged, “please don’t make me…”
“Would you rather I tell you what I think?” she asked. “Because I have a theory as to how it happened…stop me if I say something wrong. A girl you know, not a girlfriend, just a cute young co-ed in college goes back to your room one night, we’ll call her Jenny, unless you want to tell me her name?”
“April,” he said softly, “her name was April.”
“April,” she continued, “leaves early the next morning and unable to find her panties, leaves without them. How am I doing so far?”
“Exactly right Mistress.”
“Right. So anyway you find them twisted in between your sheets and unsure of what to do with them you put them in your underwear drawer. So all week you see them in there and have to move them every morning when you get dressed. And every morning you get aroused just by touching them. April takes you aside one day after class and asks you if you found her panties and you lie telling her you haven’t seen them. But you can tell she knows you’re lying when she says ‘Right, if you do come across them just keep them’ then she says, ‘besides they’d probably look pretty cute on you anyhow.’ You blush and she laughs, not knowing that her innocent flirtation has just made your cock jump in your pants….. Should I stop now or would you like me to keep going?”
“Whatever you desire Mistress,” Troy replied, remembering distinctly what April had said that day. “Let me know how they fit cutie..” He had walked the rest of the way back to his suite with a raging hard-on.
“You go back to your room,” she continued, “your erection so hard it feels like it will bust through your boxers. You try to get the image of April in her panties out of your head the rest of the day, but to no avail. You masturbate in the shower that night but you still can’t shake the image. Except now she’s naked and you’re wearing the panties. You pull out the panties to throw them away, when you catch your reflection in the mirror, for a brief moment seeing them on you.”
“Mistress,” Troy pleaded, “please stop.”
“Why my sweet?” she asked, “am I far off?”
“No Mistress,” he answered, tears filling his eyes, “I never told anyone about that, ever. And hearing you describe it so…precisely…is humiliating.”
“And why do you think that is?”
“I, I don’t know Mistress.”
“It’s because you want to express your desires but you’ve spent so much time repressing them that your mind refuses to accept what your body feels.” She smiled at him, trying to ease his tension. “Humiliation will give way to acceptance in time, I assure you.”
“Yes Mistress.”
“Now tell me what happened after you put April’s panties on,” she said, “and I want you to paint me a vivid picture…don’t leave anything out.”
“I layed them on the bed staring at them for about five minutes, nervous and excited at the same time. I took my towel off and hung it on a hook in my closet now totally naked. I told myself that I would only put them on for a second and then take them right off. Just one quick peek and then it was done.”
“But that’s not what happened,” she asked, “is it?”
“No Mistress,” Troy replied, “not even close. I pulled the underwear up my legs with my back to the mirror, not wanting to see how ridiculous I looked. When I got them all the way up over my hips I was surprised, first by how comfortable they were and then by how much I enjoyed the feeling of the tight fabric wrapped around my testicles. I took a few steps and then turned around slowly, almost as if I was in a dream. I couldn’t take my eyes off them. It was as if I was seeing myself for the first time.”
“That’s because you were,” she interrupted, “you may even feel that way in a few seconds when you turn around.”
“Wha…Why?”
“Turn around and see for yourself.” She turned him around in the tub watching his expression change as the mirrored walls around the tub presented his new appearance. Completely devoid of hair, except for the small patch above his penis and the short stubble remaining on his testicles he looked decidedly more effeminate. She knew by the look on his face that he was intrigued but she asked anyway, just to hear him admit it.
“What do you think?”
“I, I like it Mistress, I feel very…um…”
“Pretty?” she suggested.
“Yes Mistress,” he admitted, his face blushing as he caught her reflection in the mirror. “Very pretty.”
“I thought you might think so,” she said, “that’s why I want you to look this way from now on. Can you do that for me sweetie. Can you keep yourself pretty for me?”
“Yes Mistress,” Troy answered, “whatever you desire.”
“I can’t tell you how happy t
hat makes me,” she said, “now turn back around, there’s one more thing I have to do before you can get dressed.”
Troy turned back around to see her holding a small pink can of shave gel and a Venus razor. He had become so engrossed in the story of his first feminization he had forgotten what she had said about shaving him. He stood completely still as she applied the cold gel to his skin, nearly screaming in terror as she ran the razor with one deft stroke underneath his balls. She held his penis aloft between the thumb and forefinger of her other hand, each short quick stroke of the razor increasing his level of anxiety.
“There now all finished,” she said stepping back and admiring her work, “no go rinse yourself off with cold water. And wash your hair with this.” She handed him a bottle of shampoo and conditioner, each one with a picture of a leafy purple lilac on the label. “Make sure you let the conditioner stay in for at least three minutes.”
Troy retreated to the shower again, his testicles already shrinking to his body in anticipation of the torment he was about to endure. Again. The three minutes seemed to take forever and when he exited his genitals were again wrinkled and shrunken.
“Cone here and sit down,” she said pointing to the chair at the vanity. “I have a special idea for your hair.”
Troy sat down, his wet body shivering, watching as she started to put a small roller on the end of his hair. He did not want to know what the outcome would be, but he was sure that it would be much worse than he could imagine. She had poured him another drink and he finished it quickly, the heat of the vodka biting sharply into his throat.
“I want to hear the rest of the story sweetie,” she said, “it was just starting to get good.”
“Yes Mistress,” he replied, continuing, “I stood in front of the mirror for quite some time, turning to the left and the right, trying to see myself from every angle. It wasn’t until I turned almost completely around to see my ass that I realized that I was posing…”
“Isn’t that interesting,” she said sarcastically, “poses like what, a Victoria’s Secret model?”
“I guess,” he replied, “I didn’t really think of it then but yes, kind of like that Mistress.”
“Please,” she said, “continue….”
“So I was standing there mimicking what a lingerie model might do when my hand brushed across the front of the panties,”
“April’s panties,” she interjected.
“April’s panties,” he repeated, “I began rubbing my myself through the thin fabric of the, April’s, panties not surprised to find my self already aroused. I didn’t stop for a while, running my hands over my hips, my crotch, and my ass, wearing April’s tight leopard print panties bringing me to a level of arousal that I had never felt before. It didn’t take long before I felt the first urges of climax, and I pulled my penis out of April’s panties seconds before I ejaculated breathlessly into my hand.”
“Did you take April’s panties off after that,” she asked, “or did you pull them back on and crawl into bed?”
“I pulled them back on Mistress,” he answered, knowing it was of no use to lie.
“I thought so,” she said knowingly. “But tell me sweetie, how many more times did you masturbate while wearing April’s little panties?”
“Only once,” he answered.
“And in the morning when you woke up,” she inquired, “you did again didn’t you, you little femme-slut?”
“Yes Mistress.”
“And you never wore a pair of panties again?” she asked.
“No Mistress.”
“Until today,” she said. “Why didn’t you? I know you must’ve wanted to, that was clearly evident by your erection on the beach as well as the one you’re so rudely displaying now….”
“I’m sorry Mistress, I can’t help it,” he moaned.
“I have something that will help,” she said as she reached down and opened the cupboard under the sink. She pulled out an unbroken ice-pack and cracked it, beginning to massage the crystals inside. “Now answer my question slut,” she demanded, “why did you never explore your desires to be feminized?”
“I don’t know Mistress, I just never thought any my girlfriends would understand.”
“I understand,” she said soothingly, “I understand perfectly. I can help you realize all the desires you have to be feminized, I’m the dominant woman you’ve always wanted but were too afraid to find. Come with me my little femme, I have something I know you’ll like.”
Troy took her hand and followed behind her obediently, all thoughts of resistance diminished as she led him into her bedroom. The room was large and inviting, with walls painted a warm crimson with dark mahogany trim. Matching plum colored settees were arranged in the far corner under a bay of windows offering a breathtaking view of the ocean and between them lay a white bearskin rug. But the room was dominated by a plush, four poster mahogany california king bed and the rich golden comforter that seemed to glow in the subdued light. Adorned with countless maroon and purple pillows it was a bed fit for a queen. On it lay her gift.