The Degradation of Chris

by Ami Lamida
AmiLamida@hotmail.com

 

Chapter 6

 

Needless to say, I didn't sleep much that night in suspension bondage. I do recall periods of unconsciousness, but they were restless. I think I may have even been slightly delusional at times because there were times I remember floating weightlessly, not even feeling the ropes.

When I finally heard heavy footsteps on the wooden stairs leading to the basement, I was still alive and my muscles were on fire. I think I would have preferred the hard concrete floor to a suspended hogtie. But of course, I hadn't been given a choice.

I heard the hum of a motor and felt the motion of my body being lowered to the cold, hard floor. Some of my muscles were finally relieved of their burdens and it felt wonderful. I was soon untied, but I had no energy to move.

I distantly heard Joe's voiced instructions, "Get up and clean yourself up, sissy. You're a mess." His footsteps echoed up the stairs. I just lay there motionless trying to recover from my ordeal, not even bothering to remove the bondage hood despite my aching jaw.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember was a pair of gentle hands caressing my aching muscles. As consciousness reluctantly returned to me, I realized I'd been rolled over onto the rug by Mistress Monica's leather throne. I knew those gentle massaging hands were not from Joe or the mistress. I was sure my unidentified partner in sissy slavery was taking care of me.

The massage felt wonderful, and as feeling slowly returned to my legs, then calves, I thought I might be falling in love with this person whom I'd never seen before. Despite only having had a few short encounters, I was convinced that this was the most kind, caring, and sensual person I'd ever met.

The messaging hands worked their way into the more sensitive areas around my inner thighs, coercing my manhood to new heights. Suddenly I forgot my pain and felt only pleasure. The person massaging me got the message, and began caressing my stiffening penis.

My mystery lover then shifted her body and began to kiss me gently about my neck and face. I reached blindly for my companion's body and felt smooth, soft, supple skin. My companion was wearing some kind of silky gown, and as my hands explored the body next to me, I found a pair of seemingly real breasts. Yet as I worked my way down that body, I felt the inevitable package between her legs indicating she was not the female she seemed to be.

Again, I wondered at these feelings. I had never been attracted to a male before, but I'd never met a male like this before. She was all female other than a small remaining vestige of manhood. I found myself returning my companions gentle kisses and fondling, and soon we both reached orgasm together.

Afterwards, I was anxious to finally see my companion, and I reached up to unbuckle the discipline hood that prevented my vision. My companion's gently restrained me as she whispered, "Chris wait."

"Mwwth?" I gurgled through the built-in gag.

"Chris, I want you to remember that neither of us chose to be what we are."

Puzzled, I continued working on unbuckling my hood. As I pulled the ball gag part of the hood out of my mouth, I realized my jaw had really been aching. I tried to get my jaw working again as my eyes adjusted to the light of the basement. When I finally focused on the person beside me I almost went into shock.

I scrambled away from her. I felt betrayed, amazed, hurt, and broken hearted all at once. My partner in slavery was really Tabitha. I couldn't wrap my mind around the contradiction that Tabitha was male. I just kept staring, trying to make some sense of things. I saw tears welling up in Tabitha's eyes, and my heart began to soften.

"Chris, I'm sorry," she sputtered. "I never wanted to hurt you. I have been in love with you ever since the first time I saw you in class. I wanted to be with you, but I never planned it to be like this. Still, I wouldn't trade it for the world."

She looked directly into my eyes, and must have seen that I was still in shock. She began to sob hard, and I started thinking, is it so bad? When I believed she was a true female, I had wanted her too. She had kept a secret from me, but then I had kept one too.

I wanted to comfort her, so I started to move back in her direction, but she held up a hand and said, "Wait. There's more." I didn't think I would care, but I knew she had more to tell me.

"I have been living like this for three years. I started three years ago with a body similar to yours, though maybe shorter. I was thin and had very little body hair even for a boy of thirteen. My parents got killed in a car accident, and I got sent to live with my aunt Monica. She really didn't have any use for a little boy, so she made me into a little girl. I was punished often like you have been. I got used to it and pretty soon, I forgot my old life. It was the only way to survive.

"I always kept to myself in school until I met you. From almost that first day in science class, I fell in love with you. You seemed so sweet and gentle, and you reminded me of how I used to be."

She suddenly began sobbing again. I sat quietly waiting for her to continue until she finally became sober again.

"Oh Chris, this is the part that is going to make you hate me…" I was over my shock by then, and I wanted to tell her that nothing could make me hate her, but curiosity restrained me. I wanted to hear the rest of the story.

"My big mistake was mentioning your name one day to Joe. He was immediately curious and I was forced to point you out to him as you walked home. The next day when I saw you in class, I knew what he had done to you. He had done it to me before. I also knew it was all my fault."

She looked timidly up at me, and I didn't want to believe it. It wasn't really her fault that Joe was a pig. It wasn't her fault that she was forced to become a girl. But despite my denial, I still felt a little disturbed by this news. I stared at her blankly, and she got the message to continue.

The rest of the story came out in a rush, "I wanted to comfort you – to make it better somehow, but I couldn't do anything that would help. All I could do is try to be your friend. That is when I got up my courage to talk to you. Remember when I said it wasn't easy being my friend? Now you know why.

"During our first encounter together, I almost wished you could see what you were getting into, but I was glad you couldn't because I wanted you to love me. It was a fantasy, I know, but it was a wonderful one. When you responded to my kisses and had an orgasm on top of me, I was even more hopeful that things would work out.

"The next day, you seemed happier, and I was hoping it was because of me. But then when I spoke to you, you got upset and ran away. I was as confused as you must have been.

"I decided to give you some time, but the very next day you approached me. I was in heaven. It seemed like you might actually be interested in me.

"I couldn't understand why the mistress was forcing me to go to that birthday party last night until I saw you walk in. I knew the mistress wanted me to give her a reason to punish you. But I tried not to make it harder on you. I had to sit by you so that you wouldn't stand out and make the other girls curious enough to take a closer look.

"So I got you in trouble again by taking an interest in you. You have to understand that I just wanted to be near you. I just wanted to make you happier. I didn't mean for these things to happen.

"When I got home from the party and found you hogtied from the ceiling, I wanted to let you down, but that would only make things worse with Aunt Monica. I did the only thing I could do without getting us both into more trouble. I quietly slipped downstairs and tried my best to hold you up from time to time so the ropes wouldn't be as painful.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I'm sorry about everything. I didn't mean to get you into the same situation that I was in, but I was so glad to have you here. I love you Chris. I only wish you could love me."

Tabitha buried her face in her hands. I contemplated for a moment, realizing that this angel had attempted to buoy me up all night. When I finally reached a decision, I slid over to her and took her quaking shoulders in my arms and squeezed her tight. She buried her face in my chest, and whispered, "Is it true? Can you really forgive me? Can we really be friends?"

"I'm afraid not," I replied. But before those words could hurt her, I continued, "Because…you see…I love you too."

She glanced up at me to make sure I was being serious, then wrapped her arms around me, saying, "Oh Chris! I can't believe it! This can't be real."

I hushed her by drawing her up for a passionate kiss. She returned the emotion. When we finally parted lips, we both smiled at each other and gazed into each others eyes.

"Tabitha, I want you to know that if I knew months ago what I know now, I would have endured all those torments and humiliations and more, just to be with you. No more guilt, okay? You are the most amazing person I have ever met."

"Thanks," she replied with a wink and a sparkle in her eyes. "Now let's get you cleaned up like the mistress ordered. Life is going to be so much better as long as we have each other."

And it was. Sadistic Joe was eventually shown the door by Mistress Monica for being too difficult to control. Without Joe around, we were treated as well as you can be as a sissy slave. Oh, we were still punished, but it never seemed to be painful again – in fact, it became to us an act of love and kindness. When Tabitha and I were punished, we were usually punished together, which is the way we liked it.

Mistress Monica became fairly wealthy through her outside business ventures, and was able to take on some more sissy slaves. These were slaves that came willingly, seeking a strict but loving mistress. Tabitha and I sort of became head slaves. We had our mistress's trust, and we took good care of the other slaves.

When Monica got terminally ill, the other slaves had to be let go, but Tabitha and I stayed around to take care of our mistress. We loved her in our way. When she died, we were both sad.

She left us her fortune, and we used it to start a new life. Tabitha eventually took over as the mistress in our relationship, and I love every minute of it as much as I love her. To this day, we are both grateful that we were forced together into sissy slavery.

 

The End

 

 

 

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© 2003 by Ami Lamida. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.