Suddenly Sophie

by: Charlotte
sissy_charlotte@sissify.com

 

This story contains scenes of an erotic nature and is not intended for minors. Further, if such material is considered illegal in your area, you should by bypass this story. This story remains the property of the author. Permission is granted to download, photocopy, copy and re-post as long as any such action contains these disclaimers, and no attempt is made to profit from this story.

Today is my wedding day. The ceremony doesn’t start for ninety minutes but I am already wearing my dress. It is ivory silk with a full-length skirt, tight bodice and puff sleeves. When I saw it in the shop I knew I had to have it. It’s just gorgeous and makes me feel like a princess. I’m also wearing a very tight cream corset, matching french cut panties and stockings. My shoes are so delicate and feminine, 3" heels with just two thin straps securing them to my ankle. I often wear much higher heels but I will be on my feet all day and I don’t want to get tired. I sink back into the chair behind me and finger the tiny scar on my neck where I had the operation. In order to get at the scar I have to push up the thin metal collar I wear all the time now. Miss Rachel was kind enough to make the collar loose fitting so it is easy to move. I run my long red nails up and down my body, hardly daring to believe today has come. My artificial breasts strain against their layers of silken constraints as I think back over the events of the last 2 years and my little sissy clitty starts to stir in its metal prison.

Miss Rachel has promised that if I am good today she may even remove my chastity belt tonight. I am resolved to be as well behaved as I can and really make her proud of me. I hated that thing when she first put it on me but I now understand the reasons she had to do it. It is frustrating and sometimes painful not to have control of my own pee-pee but I have accepted that it belongs to her now. Also, wearing the chastity belt has made me so much more compliant and feminine. When she first told me we were to be married I was apprehensive. When she explained that I would be the one wearing the dress and I would have to promise to obey her I was downright scared. The fact that she put me on a crash diet so I could fit into the costume she wants me to wear for the entertainment at the Reception didn’t help. Gradually I’ve come round to the idea. It’s a shame my parents have refused to attend but I know if they did come they’d only create a scene. No, today must be perfect. It’s my chance to demonstrate to the whole world the commitment I’ve made to Miss Rachel. I lean back in my chair, close my eyes and think back to how it all started.

It all started two years ago because it was Friday night and I was bored and there was nothing on television. I was an 18-year-old kid who had just started university. My parents were rich and when they first suggested buying me a flat I thought it was a great idea. Unfortunately I was finding out that living on your own made it a lot harder to make friends.

For the last few years my parents had paid to send me to private school. On the surface I was a normal schoolboy, missing classes and drinking at the weekends whenever I got the chance. However there was one big secret nobody knew about. For years and years I had fantasised about dressing in girls clothes. Of course I never did anything about it, I was much too much of a wimp and my parents would have died of shame if they found out. I just fantasised endlessly about dressing like my sisters and doing all the things I saw them doing.

Today was different though. Earlier this afternoon I had bought a computer and I just installed the ISP software. I was hooked up and ready to connect to the internet for the first time in my life.

I had read about chat rooms in the newspaper and wanted to see what they were like. The first thing I did was head for Yahoo because that was the only one I had heard of. It took me a moment to download their software and work out what was happening and then I was away. I choose the first name that came into my head, ‘sissy’. I didn’t bother to fill in the profile; I just wanted to get on line as soon as possible. After I found the adult rooms I surfed around a bit, generally being ignored. On one level it was very strange, these people were thousands of miles apart pretending they were in the same room. On another level it was strangely erotic, I found myself watching Hercules dominating his sub pretty_flower by forcing her to pretend to give him a blowjob in the middle of the chat room.

Suddenly a message box popped up in the middle of my screen,

‘Busy slut?’

I looked at the top of the box, it was sent by ‘Cruel_Master_James’.

A few seconds later another line appeared below the first one.

‘I asked you a questions slut’.

I panicked. I moved my mouse instinctively and killed the connection. Instantly I regretted it. What was I doing? I couldn’t wimp out again. For years I had fantasised about discussing my yearnings with like minded people and at the first chance I had I wimped out.

Eventually I reconnected and found the chat site again. This time I decided to go for a more descriptive name and set up a profile as ‘male_sissy_maid’. I typed some rubbish into the description about how I liked to dress from time to time and go to clubs. I also found a S&M site and borrowed a picture of a very thin man dressed as a secretary in a blouse and tight pencil skirt, wearing a dog collar and chains and kissing the thigh boots of a blonde sex goddess dressed in an all in one PVC catsuit.

I soon found a room called ‘Slut TV’s in a dark alley’ and decided to take a look. It was full of people but it was clear most of them were engaged in private conversations and I couldn’t find anyone to talk to. The few that did want to talk were only interested in my telephone number. After about fifteen minutes I was about to leave when a private message popped up on my screen.

‘Interesting photo. Is it you?’

I looked at the name - ‘Hercules’. Hmmm.....he was clearly going to be disappointed by the truth so I decided to lie.

‘Yes Sir’.

‘You’re very pretty slut. Tell me about yourself’.

That was all the excuse I needed. For the next 30 minutes I chatted with Hercules. It was only later I realised I had told him all sorts of things about me but had learned absolutely nothing about him. It didn’t seem to matter; I was overcome with relief at being able to talk to someone about my inner desires with no fear of ever meeting them. The little white lies I told along the way didn’t seem to matter; when Hercules asked me what I was wearing I told him a tight black leather mini, blouse, stockings and spike heels. He encouraged me along the way, asking what turned me on, how I saw myself.....it was kind of like talking to a kinky psychiatrist. Eventually he asked if I wanted to be placed under his guidance. I nearly came when I heard that. He wanted to help me fulfil my innermost dreams and desires. I had only been online for an hour or so and here was someone offering to do exactly what I wanted.

Immediately I said yes a change seemed to come over Hercules. He insisted I sent a message in the open room begging to be allowed to serve him. He pretended not to be interested and replied telling me to crawl towards him on my hands and knees. Then he asked me to tell everyone how I was dressed. My cheeks were red and my little sissy cock was straining as I read the comments from some of the other people in the room. It looked like they were used to this sort of thing!

With feigned reluctance Hercules eventually said yes. He asked me what I was wearing again and when I gave the same answer he told me to go and get a length of rope. As fast as I could I ran into the hall of my flat and, kicking off my clothes, came and sat down again in front of the computer. I was now stark naked. I typed out a message;

‘I have done as you ordered Sir’.

‘Good slut. First remove your skirt and panties. Then take one end of the rope and tie it around the base of your cock and balls. Pull it to make sure it’s tight. Then thread the rope between your legs, loop around your waist and tie it off. I want your TINY little cock hidden between your legs. Then put your knickers and skirt back on.’

I looked at the screen. Hell! That was going to hurt. Strangely, I never thought of disobeying. Hercules was probably thousands of miles away but I felt like he was in the room with me ordering me to do this with the crowd egging him on. There was no way I could do anything other than he ordered. Submission came naturally to me.

Very gingerly I looped the rope around my ball sac and pulled tight. I was right, it did hurt!

I typed out a message telling him I had obeyed. Suddenly I heard a single voice coming out of my speaker. Dimly I wondered why I hadn’t noticed this room had voice chat as well.

‘Let’s see if the sissy is any good at sucking cock Hercules’.

There was a gaggle of laughter. The message from Hercules was clear enough.

‘On your knees slut’.

Without thinking about it I slipped off my chair and fell to my knees. This man was thousands of miles away from me but the instinct to obey was so strong that I never considered doing anything else. I found my eyes were half closed and my lips pursed almost as though I was ready to receive his penis in real life. Without thinking about it I started to type. To this day I can’t remember much but I could almost taste a strong musky smell in my throat. On one level it was absurd, I was pretending to have oral sex with this man who wasn’t even in the same country to me. To me it seemed perfectly natural however, I was so ready to give myself to anyone who noticed me.

I had had a few girlfriends and one in particular who enjoyed the taste of my cum. I thought back to what she had done and what I had enjoyed. Gradually I relaxed, words like ‘moist lips’ featured a lot. The rest of the room obviously enjoyed the entertainment; there was a constant stream of comments from my loud speakers. Eventually Hercules came, turning his microphone up loud so the whole room could hear. That wasn’t the end of my performance however; I spent the next 2 hours sucking off every other male in the room under his direction. Time seemed to pass quickly, I was totally immersed in trying to please Hercules. Finally I saw him type out a message.

‘I am going now. I hope you all enjoyed today’s entertainment’.

Quickly I typed out a reply.

‘When will I see you again Master?’

For the first time I heard Hercules’s voice, a low chilling laugh in my speakers.

‘See me again? You really believed I am interested in owning you? This was strictly a one night stand sissy. Crawl back under your rock, there are thousands like you begging to serve me everytime I log on’.

I was numb. I heard the rest of the room laughing at the way I had been used. Used and thrown away like the pathetic sissy I was. How could I complain? Wasn’t this exactly the treatment I had begged for? My little sissy clitty was straining. Remembering my manners I was polite to the last.

‘I hope my service was satisfactory Sir’.

I logged off with renewed laughter ringing in my ears.

I slept late the next day. When I got up I didn’t even look at the computer, after a late lunch I went out to do some food shopping. It was late in the afternoon before I had put everything away and I decided to have a quick look on the internet to see if I could find out what was on TV that night. Almost as soon as I logged on I saw a little envelope icon at the bottom right of the screen. When I clicked on it an e-mail inbox appeared. This was strange, I hadn’t signed up for an e-mail account yet. Then I saw the name at the top of the screen, ‘sissy_male_maid’. I realised the account must have been automatically created last night when I used the chat room. I had been so upset I hadn’t logged out so the computer had retrieved the messages for me when I logged on again.

There were two unread e-mails; the first was the traditional ‘Welcome’ message. The second was more interesting. It was from someone calling herself ‘Mistress Rachel’ and was headed ‘You’. I double clicked to open it.

‘Sissy

I was in the chat room yesterday and saw your display for Hercules. Although it was clear you have little experience I was impressed by your obedience and natural subservience. To the end you treated your Superiors with the respect that is their due. I am not going to try and defend the way Hercules used you, however you clearly understood that it is not for sissies to question their Superiors and continued to display the appropriate dignity and deference.

I would welcome the chance to talk with you further, although I appreciate that after your experience yesterday you may have reservations. If you are available I will be on line tonight at 17:30 UK time. It would please me if you were there.

Regards

Mistress Rachel’

I felt light headed...this was a real Mistress. She wanted to talk to me! Suddenly I glanced at my watch. Hell! It was 5:23 already. I had 7 minutes.

Frantic now I jumped up from my seat and pulled the curtains shut. I fixed myself some sandwiches and a drink, took them out to the computer and then checked all the doors and windows were shut. Before logging on again I stripped off my clothes. Looking at the clock on the computer I saw I had less than sixty seconds left.

She was waiting for me. As soon as I entered the chat room a message box popped up;

‘Welcome sissy. I’m glad you could make it’.

Suddenly I was incredibly nervous. What was I doing?

‘Thank you Mistress. Ummm........thank you for your e-mail’.

‘Welcome dear, but please call me Miss Rachel. Your performance last night fascinated me. You showed a lot of potential. I wanted a chance to chat with you’.

For the next three hours we talked. Just talked. Miss Rachel asked me about my background; my fears and desires, hopes and dreams. I was as honest as I could be but still maintained the rubbish I had typed into my chat profile yesterday was true. I didn’t feel able to tell her I had misled her so early on. All the time she quietly encouraged me to open up until I heard myself telling Miss Rachel things I hadn’t realised myself. I explained my constant dreams and fantasies where I always played the role of the submissive sissy and the effect this had on me. When I told Miss Rachel that my name in these fantasies was always Sophie she graciously agreed that I could keep that name. She began to tell me a few things about herself, I learnt she had trained a number of real life sissy maids in the past but currently did not own any.

She told me a number of stories about how she had humiliated her girls. Each story turned me on more than the last and I knew beyond doubt that this was the life for me. When I heard her final story about how she had punished a slave who had been masturbating without permission by dressing her like a slut in a tiny red miniskirt and red PVC thigh length high heeled boots and dropping her in a town 80 miles away in the middle of the night my little sissy clitty felt like it was about to explode. The girl only got home by hitching a ride with a trucker. She spent the entire ride kneeling in front of the driver with his penis in her mouth. This was a whole new world to me and I knew then that I wanted it more than I had ever wanted anything.

Eventually Miss Rachel told me she had to go. I asked her when we would chat again. Her answer shocked me;

‘Never, unless you learn to be honest with me.’

‘I don’t understand. What do you mean?’

‘Well - for a start that picture on your profile isn’t you, is it?’

Even though she was many miles away I turned beet red.

‘Ummmm.....no. I am so sorry Miss’.

‘You will be. Understand this, I will not tolerate any form of disobedience or lying. Being a good sissy takes dedication and self sacrifice. It will take over your life, it is not just something to play at on the weekend. I will be here at the same time in 2 days. Think carefully. If you want to see me again I have some tasks for you to complete in the next 48 hours.’

‘Anything Miss. I am just so sorry to have disappointed you’.

‘Hmmm....well. You have 48 hours to prove that. You’ve already told me you have plenty of money, now you will spend some. I want your profile updated with TRUE information and a real picture of you. Buy a digital camera and scanner if you have to. From now on I want you properly dressed every time we meet. Go out and buy yourself a wardrobe; skirts, dresses, lingerie, shoes but NO pants. No flat shoes either. Don’t forget the make up, it’s so important for sissies to be well turned out.

Finally - and this is most important - you are to get yourself a webcam and microphone. I want to be able to see you and hear you. I’m not wasting my time typing out messages, if you have any doubts you should tell me now. That’s a lot to remember for an airhead like you. Do you have it all dear?’

I could only stare at the screen. When I started down this path I had no idea how far I would go but in my wildest dreams I never imagined this. The idea of finally having my own wardrobe thrilled me and yet terrified me at the same time. The idea of someone else seeing me dressed really terrified me! Yet, I could stop this at any time. She hadn’t asked for my real name or address. I could experiment by obeying her and then just delete my profile later and stop logging on if I needed to. I wanted to obey Miss Rachel so much. I had spent most of my life wimping out, there was no way I was avoiding my fantasies again. I gave the only answer I could.

‘I understand perfectly Ma’am. I will be here in 2 days’.

Looking back I wonder why I never thought of arguing with her, asking for more time before taking such a big step. I think it was because I could not disappoint Miss Rachel again; I had to prove myself worthy of her attention. In the short time I had been with her I had subconsciously accepted her as my Superior and her approval was increasingly important to me. In fact, her approval was becoming the only issue of importance in my life.

The following morning I skipped college and drove to a large town about 80 miles away. The computer equipment was easy, I just went straight to the local branch of Dixons. The clothes were more difficult, it was horrendously embarrassing just to walk into Dorothy Perkins. The first two times I tried I turned such a vivid shade of red I left before a sales assistant threw me out. After an hour I nearly had a crying fit when a grandmother out shopping with her granddaughter pointed at me and said ‘That’s a pervert dear’.

I managed to buy a few things and eventually decided to go back to my car and drive into London. It seemed to make things easier, there were more people in the shops and even some men shopping for wives and girlfriends. It was still embarrassing, one shop assistant insisted on holding up a short black velvet dress to see if it would fit when I tried to buy it. Eventually I had enough clothes to please Miss Rachel when I chatted with her again, I resolved to buy the rest from mail order!

The only thing I hadn’t managed was shoes, clearly no shop assistant was going to allow me to try on high heels and from what I saw of the sizes they all looked a bit small for me anyway. Eventually I had a stroke of genius, I took the Tube over to Kings Cross and went to a transvestite shop I had seen before in the run down area behind the station. Once I got over the initial shock of seeing so many other guys like me shopping for girl’s clothes it was quite easy. I ended up buying one pair with a four inch pencil heel and wrap around strap and one pair of ankle boots with a wider five inch heel.

It was nearly midnight when I got home and I was exhausted. I really, really wanted to try something on but I just lay down on my bed first for a quick rest. I closed my eyes just for a second, the next thing I knew I was awakened by the sound of cars in the road outside. I looked at my watch, it was 10:00AM. I had slept right through past the alarm! Resolving to make the best of things I decided to spend the day pampering myself.

After calling into college to take another day off I ran a lovely hot bath, using some scented oils. While in there I shaved every inch of my body below my neck. After climbing out of the bath I dried my hair into what I hoped was a feminine style and sat down in front of the mirror to do my makeup. I had no experience of using makeup before so my first few attempts were a bit of a disaster. Far too much rouge, blusher and mascara. After about half an hour I learnt to go easy on the blusher and mascara and managed a half way respectable look. It was still a bit tarty but at least I didn’t look like Barbara Cartland.

It was a real shock to look in the mirror and see this feminine face attached to my body. I ran my hands up and down my smooth body, revelling in the submissive and feminine feelings that overtook me.

After a few seconds I picked up the bag from Knickerbox and dropped my new lingerie collection onto the bed. When I was in their shop yesterday I pretended to be shopping for my girlfriend, everything I bought was silk or lace and very, very delicate. I picked out a matching bra, high cut panties and suspender belt in cream silk, my poor little penis was rock hard as I slid the panties up my legs. It took me a few minutes to get the stockings on properly, I loved the sensation as they pulled against my suspender belt when I snapped them in position.

I routed around the pile of clothes on my bed and decided to wear the black velvet dress. The skirt was tighter than I thought and my painfully stiff errection was forcing it out into a tent. Eventually I managed to reach round and pull the zip up, I couldn’t help but run my hands up and down my new body. After putting on my new 4" heels I practised walking across the room a few times to get used to them. It was the first time I had ever worn heels and I nearly broke my ankle a couple of times. Soon I was swinging my ass as I’d seen the girls do down the pub on a Friday night and it all became much easier. After about 10 minutes I had forgotten I was wearing them. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and had to stop for a double take. I was gorgeous! I’d never really had much luck with the girls, my body wasn’t really up to much. I’d been transformed into a sexy, sassy young woman of the sort I lusted after on the infrequent occasions I went to nightclubs. I’d never felt like this before, so vulnerable and feminine. All my doubts had gone, I knew I could pass as a girl and I loved the way it made me feel.

I had about 2 hours until my appointment with Miss Rachel. I didn’t have the courage to go anywhere so I sat down to watch some television. I had bought some long red false nails yesterday so I busied myself attaching them to my fingers. It was so strange to be sitting there watching ‘This Morning’ and playing with my vampish red nails. I even found myself paying special attention to the beauty items, wondering how the makeover was going to turn out and what I would look like in the ridiculously short skirt they had put their middle aged victim into. As my appointment with Miss Rachel drew nearer I became more and more nervous, getting up to pace the apartment and reassuring myself by checking my appearance in the mirror.

About forty minutes before my appointment I suddenly realised I needed a feminine voice. There was no way I could use my normal voice, dressed as I was! The whole experience was already going to be extremely humiliating. Luckily my voice was quite high, I started with this high pitched squeak rather like Minnie Mouse but soon graduated to a lower Bette Davies tone I felt I could maintain reasonably consistently. It was weird hearing this odd voice coming out of my mouth, I practised by reading items out of a magazine until I could manage two minutes without changing my pitch.

Eventually it was time and I logged on. I saw the icon indicating Miss Rachel was already there so I raised my trembling hand to turn the webcam on.

The screen flickered for a few seconds and then the colours began to form to reveal this gorgeous woman. It sounds like a clich’ but the first thought to register in my mind was that Miss Rachel was stunningly beautiful. She was in her late twenties, slim with shoulder length blonde hair and largish breasts. She was sitting down wearing this very tight red wrap around dress. Her eyes were green and the most piercing I had ever seen. They appeared to be staring right at me. Behind her I could see some French Windows and a neatly kept garden. Then I saw her face light up as she began to smile. I realised she could now see me as well. At that moment I knew I would do anything to please her.

‘Welcome my dear’.

Her voice was clear and precise and the accent was Home Counties. My mind raced....for some reason I had assumed she was American. The idea of revealing myself to someone who might only live a few miles away was even more scary. For a moment I was hesitant, until I stammered.

‘.......TTTttttthank you Miss. I’m sorry I kept you waiting’.

‘No dear, you were actually a few seconds early. You’re not in trouble. Now tell me how your shopping trip went. You look delightful by the way, very pretty’

I reddened as I heard myself described as pretty. Prompted by Miss Rachel I launched into a detailed description of the clothes I had bought and how long it had taken me to dress. She asked detailed questions and appeared to be very interested in the more humiliating parts of my trip. I heard her laugh when I told her how a grandmother had called me a pervert, she quickly replied;

‘Well that’s what you are dear, isn’t it? A little sissy pervert’.

Soon we moved on to how this was making me feel. I was totally honest and I explained how I was torn between self disgust and a real feeling that this was what I was born to. I had never worn stockings and heels before but it already felt so natural, so right.

Suddenly she announced she wanted to see me walk.

‘On your feet dear. Remember to swing your hips. Let’s see plenty of ass, men love a pretty girl’s ass’.

Obediently I stood up and wobbled unsteadily on my heels. At Miss Rachel’s command I walked across the room and back again, as I was approaching the computer again I heard the command ‘CURTSY’ barked out from the speakers. I bobbed obediently before sitting back down again.

I felt ridiculous and humiliated, manipulated via a computer and telephone line from many miles away. Then I looked at the screen. Miss Rachel was smiling.

‘Good Sophie, a very good start’.

It was like turning on a light bulb. Suddenly my self disgust was gone. I had pleased Miss Rachel! Nothing else mattered as I basked in the warm glow of her approval.

‘Thank you Miss. I so much want to please you’.

She chuckled. ‘Don’t worry dear, you will. You have a lot of potential and I intend to see that you fulfil it’.

After more chatting Miss Rachel ordered me to follow her to one of the chat rooms that allowed the use of webcams. It was called ‘Master and Servant’. By now I had become used to the idea of Miss Rachel seeing me and talking to me and relaxed slightly but I began to tense up again when I realised everyone else in this room would be able to see me as well.

Actually, I loved it. Miss Rachel saw some friends were online and allowed me to chat with the other subs. It was wonderful to meet so many people just like me, and many who were dressed in even more bizarre costumes. I saw one sissy dressed like a dancer in a tutu and another dressed in this Alice In Wonderland little girl type pink party dress. There were a few real females there (usually naked or topless) but most of my fellow subs were sissies like me. We chatted about what everyone was wearing and the punishment one of the girls had received from her Mistress for being caught wearing trousers. They told me so many stories about their adventures that my little willy was soon making a tent under my skirt. One girl told me how she worked as a secretary in her Master’s business and had been given to a group of salesmen for the afternoon as a prize. The first she had known about it was when she was ordered to strip down to her corset, knickers, stockings and heels, locked into a set of irons and led into a meeting room full of twenty something male salesmen. They were all very interested in me and I told them as much as possible about Miss Rachel and myself. They were keen to give me advice, when I confessed how scared I was by the speed things were moving Jennifer told me;

‘Don’t worry babe. Just make sure you do everything your Mistress wants and you’ll be fine’.

Miss Rachel came and found me after about 2 hours. I was really relaxed by then, I hadn’t even looked at the clock. We chatted for a bit longer and then she left. I was so excited, the last few hours had been like a dream for me. It was wonderful to be able to express myself and know I had her approval. It was a let down to have to take off those beautiful clothes and remove my make up but I was buoyed by the knowledge that Miss Rachel had already given me the time and date she wanted to see me again. I couldn’t wait.

That night I had the most intense dream ever. This time it was me kneeling at the feet of Miss Rachel dressed in a PVC catsuit. I awoke drenched in my own cum.

The next few weeks were blissful. I missed more and more college, spending as much time as possible dressed and counting the hours until my next meeting with Miss Rachel. She began to set me simple tasks, like putting on a corset under my normal shirt, going into the local forest, removing the shirt and taking a picture for her. She also made me go and buy a large box of tampax so that I could have regular periods, just like proper girls. I didn’t mind the pain and humiliation, with each day that passed I just wanted to spend more time pleasing Miss Rachel.

At the end of our third week Miss Rachel sprung her next surprise. We were chatting about the latest task she had set me. She had written a short classifieds ad which she ordered me to post on a Contact web site for subs and doms. When I read it I was horrified, it was all about how I was a submissive and kinky sissy desperate to meet a Master who would dress me as his slut and use and humiliate me as his personal sex toy. It was bound to appeal to all the dirty old men cruising the net. The worst part was that it included my e-mail address. I was told that I had to reply to any responses with my darkest, most disgusting fantasies. I then had to forward those replies onto Miss Rachel. She would judge them and if she felt I hadn’t been kinky enough I would have to meet the man and carry out the fantasy. If she liked my response I would be allowed to e-mail him back and say that I had agreed to be collared by someone else.

As you can imagine I had taken a lot of care over my replies. I had received three responses so far and Miss Rachel had been very pleased with the three fantasies I had come up with. In fact I had amazed myself, some of the stuff I had included was so filthy I would never have imagined writing it down and sending it to a complete stranger a few weeks ago.

Miss Rachel was about to leave when she told me she had one new task for me;

‘I’ve decided you need a uniform Sophie. There’s a shop I know in London, which has just the thing. I’ve told them to expect you tomorrow at 7:00PM to pick it up’.

She gave me an address in Soho and then continued.

‘I want you in the right frame of mind so I’ve decided you can wear that lovely red corset you bought last week with some panties and stockings under your horrible rough boys clothes. Any questions dear? Good, I’ll expect to see you dressed in your new uniform on Thursday’.

She wanted me to meet other people. They would know I was a sissy. Her sissy. This was a major step and she knew it. I looked up at the screen, and saw she was staring at me. Like she was daring me to object.

‘This will make me very happy Sophie’.

She always knew what to say. All the now familiar feelings came rushing to the surface. Off course I would do it! It was what Miss Rachel wanted. I nodded in submission.

‘Of course Miss Rachel’.

The next day I caught the late afternoon train to London. It was the middle of summer but I wore a coat zipped right up to the neck. It was the thinnest coat I could find but I was still sweating. I was getting all kinds of glances from the other passengers but I didn’t care. There was no way I was going to let anyone know what I was wearing under my jeans and shirt.

When we got to Charring Cross station I started to walk down the Strand to Trafalgar Square, past the National Gallery into Charring Cross Road, left into Leicester Square and finally into the narrow streets of Soho. It was raining very lightly and I hadn’t brought an umbrella. For some reason this struck me as funny, kind of appropriate given my present predicament. As I got deeper and deeper into Soho the streets became narrower, the light faded and the shops became more and more grubby. The shops were Thirties style, to begin with I saw newsagents and convenience shops dotted between the sex shops but as I got deeper and deeper into Soho everything else disappeared and only the sex shops remained. The window displays left me open mouthed in amazement, until a few weeks ago I’d had a sheltered upbringing and never dreamed that shops like these existed. Some of the windows were painted black with small signs by the door saying that the council had banned their display.

Eventually I found the shop, it was a two story affair sandwiched between two larger shops. There was a reed curtain covering the doorway and I pulled it aside to walk in. The first thing I saw was a long thin room, with piles and piles of cardboard boxes covering every open space. There were three or four men browsing and one standing at the long thin wooden counter, which took up the far left wall of the shop. The man was being served by a middle aged woman with cropped black hair. She was very overweight and wearing a dark stained kaftan.

As I walked over to the counter the man finished his purchase and turned to leave the shop. The woman looked at me expectantly. Now the moment had come to admit what I was to a complete stranger I was seized by a fresh attack of nerves.

‘I’m........ummm.......I’mm........Charlotte. Rachel sent me.’

The woman looked at me, blank faced.

‘What?’

I tried again.

‘Miss Rachel sent me. I have to collect a package’.

Recognition dawned.

‘So you’re Rachel’s new sissy, eh?’

I cringed at the word ‘sissy’.

‘I KNOW she doesn’t encourage such lack of respect. I will be sure to tell her about that.’

Some customers raised their heads and started to look at us. They were clearly amused. I blushed a livid red.

The woman continued.

‘You will refer to me as Mistress Diane....MOLLY’.

There was an open doorway at the far end of the counter. After a delay of a few seconds I saw a much younger much thinner woman come through the doorway and walk towards us. She was dressed as a French Maid in a very skimpy red satin uniform with white trim. The dress was low cut at the front and I could see her breasts bouncing as she walked. The skirt was tiny and puffed out with layers of lace underskirts and every time she took a step I caught a glimpse of her stocking tops and panties. Her stockings were very sheer and I could see a seem running dead straight up the back. Although she was wearing 5" spike heels she was able to confidently pick her way between the boxes and I didn’t see her stumble once. She was very tall and I couldn’t help admiring her legs as she strolled towards us. She came to a stop and caught her reflection in the mirror. Her hands automatically flew up to straighten her cap and then brush her large white apron straight. Now that she was standing next to us I could see her face more clearly. Although she was wearing lots of make up I realised with a shock this wasn’t a woman at all. Molly was a guy! A sissy like me!

Mistress Diane turned to face her.

‘Take Charlotte out the back and get her ready’.

I made a half hearted attempt to stop her.

‘I’m wearing my underwear as ordered, look I’ll show you’.

I undid two buttons on my shirt to reveal the basque. They showed absolutely no interest. Molly pulled at my hand. She was surprisingly strong.

‘Come with me please’.

I had to lean closer to hear, her voice was so low it was almost as if she was whispering. Her face was painfully thin and covered in white powder, giving her a ghostly appearance. She pulled harder and I found myself propelled through the door at the back of the shop to a kitchen area.

As with the rest of the shop there were piles of stock on every surface. I caught a glimpse of an open box full of whips and another full of ball gags. There was a cooking area and sink over by the window. The sink was full of dirty plates and the whole area stank of fried food.

Molly reached up and started to undo the rest of my shirt buttons.

‘I’m only supposed to show you I’m wearing the underwear. She didn’t say anything about undressing...’

Quick as a flash she leaned in until her face was almost touching mine.

‘Shhhhhhhhhhhhh................................’

She raised one finger to her heavily painted lips. I looked into her eyes and saw real fear.

‘She’ll hear you. Just keep quiet. It’s for the best’.

She continued to undress me. I was too shocked to resist. Molly was terrified, absolutely terrified of what Miss Diane might do to her. This wasn’t my fantasy, where sissies lived to serve their Superiors who treated them with love and respect. This was some cruel warped world I was being drawn into.

In no time at all I was naked except for my feminine lingerie. Molly circled round inspecting me from several angles before releasing the strings on my corset and pulling them in as tight as they would go. She leaned against my back to gain leverage, I was too busy trying to breathe to waste time complaining. When she stepped back I found the corset had forced what little fat I had up so it looked like I had two little girlish breasts.

Next Molly crossed to one of the boxes and pulled out a French Maid’s dress exactly like the one she was wearing. She unzipped it and signalled for me to step in. Taking tiny breaths I crossed the room and put on the dress. Even with my reduced waist it was a tight fit and Molly had to pull hard to zip me up. As she finished I noticed she picked up a small shiny object from the table. It was just out of my field of vision so it was only when I heard the padlock snap shut that I realised I had been locked into the dress.

Next Molly sat me down in front of the mirror and found a long blonde wig to fit me. Then she found some make up and started work on my face. After a few minutes she had slapped so much on that I looked like a tart. My own mother wouldn’t have recognised me.

To finish off Molly disappeared into one of the cupboards, burrowing down into the pile of boxes so that only her panty covered ass and gloriously long legs were visible. She reappeared with a pair of 5" spike heels with locking ankle straps, a mop cap and starched white apron and red elbow length gloves.

After a few more minutes Molly pronounced herself happy with my appearance and pulled me to my feet to take me back through to meet Miss Diane. The moment I caught my reflection in the mirror was heart stopping. I had come in here a gawky young man and Molly had turned me into this sexy goddess dressed to kill.

Miss Diane’s verdict was less charitable. She looked me up and down.

‘Hmmm.......not bad for a beginner. A wanabee slut’.

I watched as she opened a draw and pulled out a thin leather collar. It looked like a dog’s collar and had a thick metal ring set into each side. She reached up and pulled my hair back so she could fit the collar around my neck. I heard a loud click as she snapped the lock shut.

‘I have some wonderful news for you Charlotte’.

Even in my heels Mistress Diane was a full three inches taller than me. She beamed down.

‘I talked to your Mistress this afternoon. She’s agreed that you can help us out for a few hours in return for your lovely new uniform. So you can get behind the counter with Molly! Isn’t that lovely? I want to see hard work mind. I don’t want you two girls gossiping all night and ignoring the customers. We close at 9:00 tonight - lots of work to do’.

She must have seen the expression on my face.

‘Of course you don’t have to stay. You’re free to go if you want. No-one around here will take any notice if you walk down the street in that outfit. You might have some trouble getting on the train in the rush hour though. All those crowds. Bound to crease your dress. If you’re lucky some nice strong young man will look after you...’

There was the sound of cackling laughter from the shoppers. What could I do? Head down I walked over to the counter to join Molly.

In the end it wasn’t nearly as bad as I feared. The customers were mostly respectful and I quickly learnt to deal with the few that did try and feel me up. There were plenty of mirrors in the shop and each time I saw this sexy young girl strolling round in her skimpy outfit my confidence grew. I also realised very quickly that most of the customers were afraid of me. I knew I was convincing, and they seemed to see me as a totally feminine image of all their fantasies. Most of them couldn’t help thinking about what they’d like to do to me. As a result they were blushing and hesitant and usually talking straight to my chest. I exploited this balance of power without mercy by flirting with every customer that looked halfway presentable. I can’t describe the feeling that came over me when some blushing young teenager came over and asked for something. It sent a thrill down my spine. Of course, not all customers were easy to deal with. One in particular spent at least 30 minutes bullying Molly when she didn’t curtsey quick enough. He was fat and middle aged with a cruel face and I remember being glad I didn’t have to deal with him.

Soon it was 9:00 and Mistress Diane let out the last customers and bolted the doors. I was so glad to see that door shut, Molly had been sent off to do something for Mistress Diane about 30 minutes ago and I had been rushed off my feet trying to cope with all the customers. I turned expectantly.

‘May I go and get changed now please?’

Mistress Diane glowered at me. Several times during the evening she had told me off for flirting with customers.

‘Come with me first slut. I have a job for you’.

She crooked her finger and beckoned me to follow as she walked out the back and up some stairs to the second floor. Dreading what I might find I followed obediently.

When we reached the top of the stairs I saw a bedroom straight ahead. Mistress Diane was blocking the doorway so I couldn’t see anything but I could hear a man sounding like he was having a lot of fun. As I came closer Mistress Diane moved to one side and I saw Molly on her knees giving a blow job to the horrible customer I had seen her with earlier. Standing next to them was another man who was whipping Molly’s ass with a short length of flex to encourage her.

Mistress Diane turned to face me.

‘I operate a rewards scheme for my best customers. The concept is a bit like Tesco’s, only better. At Tesco you might get 30p off a pizza, here you get to screw the staff. I’d like you to meet two of my best customers’.

Smiling broadly she indicated the two men.

‘ON YOUR KNEES SLUT’,

I was backing away, desperate to avoid what was about to happen. Suddenly I saw Mistress Diane holding a long wooden pole with a metal eye on the end. Expertly she hooked the eye through one of the metal rings on my collar. At the same time one of the men moved behind me. He seized my wrists and locked handcuffs on me. Mistress Diane moved the pole forward, I struggled as hard as I could but slowly and surely I found myself pushed forward until I was standing a half inch away from the horrible smelly customer. Molly had been waved away, she was standing in the corner watching us. I cringed as I touched his belly. He looked down at me, grinning. I saw dribble from the corner of his mouth.

‘This will be a lot easier for you if you behave Sophie. I know it’s scary the first few times but you will grow to love it. All sissy’s love the taste of cum.’

I felt the pressure from the pole forcing me down. Suddenly I was kneeling, a few inches away from this massive meaty cock. It was standing erect with veins throbbing. As I watched it twitched twice. Inwardly I was screaming. This wasn’t part of my fantasy! Why was this happening to me!

Suddenly the man seized the back of my head and forced his cock into my mouth. I almost gagged as it hit the back of my throat. It filled up my whole mouth so I had to breathe through my nose. It smelt terrible - stale piss mixed with whatever had dried in his pubes since he last washed. Then I felt his balls banging against my chin as he started to fuck my face. I was determined to do nothing to help, nothing to increase my humiliation but Mistress Diane quickly noticed my reluctance to join in.

‘Such a silly little sissy. Still, you’ll learn. MOLLY’.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Molly walk over to where I was kneeling. She reached down and placed two fingers over my nostrils. I held out for as long as I could but soon my cheeks collapsed as I was forced to breathe out and then in. I felt the penis stir in my mouth. Moving. Growing. The heat and the musky smell made me almost light headed. The man began to move his hips. In, Out. Slowly at first but then faster and faster. Fucking my mouth. In the end I couldn’t help myself. I moved my tongue to just below the head and began to massage the tender glans of this living thing inside me. At the same time I began to suck. I couldn’t help myself - the outfit and the surroundings had made me feel so feminine and I was overcome with pride that this man was hard because of me. He found me attractive as a girl. Immediately I began to respond Molly released my nose and I was able to breathe again. I was determined that if I was going to do this it would be the best blow job this guy had ever had. I forced myself to employ every trick I knew to coax his cum out of him. Soon I felt the precum dribbling out of his cock, the musky smell almost made me gag. In a few seconds I felt his hips buck and then a steady stream of warm creamy cum squirting down my throat. Almost immediately he pulled his cock out of my mouth and pushed me back. As I fell his cum splashed across my face, hair and chest.

The ordeal wasn’t over yet. The other man seized me around the waist and lifted me over to the bed. As I stood at the foot of the bed he stretched me forward and then bound each wrist to the bedpost using two long leather straps. He then came around behind me and bound each of my ankles to the end of the bed. When he saw me pulling against my restraints he slapped me across the face and then seized my jaw. Molly handed him the biggest ball gag I had ever seen which he proceeded to force into my mouth. My jaw forced open, I couldn’t make a sound as he buckled the gag shut. I was totally helpless, unable to move or even speak.

I felt someone raise my skirt and then my panties being ripped off. The thin material tore easily. I struggled even harder, desperate to escape from this room. I felt a cold, goey cream being applied to my ass. It seems mad now, but this was the first time I realised what was about to happen. I had only ever had sex with a woman twice, the idea of being screwed by another man horrified me.

After a few seconds I heard his zip and then felt the warm living flesh brushing against my ass. The pain when he entered me was incredible. It felt like my ass was about to split in two. He was not gentle, the only thing he seemed concerned with was getting his rocks off as quickly as possible. I nearly passed out as he pumped in and out of me. Faster and faster, desperate and using me as his personal sex toy. He pulled me back onto him, forcing his dick deep into my ass. Each stroke was agony, I had never experienced such pain. I threw my head back, desperate to escape. Soon I felt him stiffen and grab my ass with both hands. There was a moment’s pause and then I felt hot semen pumping into me, wave after wave of this man’s cum. I heard his animal noises at the moment of orgasm, and then he slumped forward trapping me against the bed.

I was very quiet on the way home. Immediately the door shut behind me I threw myself on the bed and started crying. The pain, the humiliation was unbearable. I rocked myself gently, horrified by what had happened and overcome with self pity. I didn’t sleep for hours; just lay in my bed crying. Had I deserved what she had done to me? Should I even be surprised? I had begged to be used like a sex toy and now it had happened. I was so confused, and what I hated more than anything else was that as I lay on the floor of that filthy bedroom covered in a stranger’s cum and dressed like a whore I had the biggest, most painful errection I had ever experienced. This was light years from my fantasy and yet I knew how turned on I had been by the whole experience.

The next day I awoke resolved to stand up to Miss Rachel. I couldn’t let this go on. She was abusing my devotion. We had talked for hours and hours about my fantasies, about what I was looking for and I had always made it clear where my limits were. I could understand the confusion - some of the emails she had made me write for the people who replied to my advert were pretty degrading. She had made a mistake and I had to tell her. Taking things very slowly (my ass felt like it was twice the size it used to be) I took a long, leisurely bath.

As I lay in the bath I thought about what I would wear. I should still dress as a girl, there was no sense in annoying Miss Rachel for no reason. I would find a long skirt and loose blouse though, something to show I wasn’t just her bimbo. Then I remembered the uniform - she had ordered me to wear the French Maids uniform and there was no way I could disobey her.

I began to get more and more worried as the time for my meeting with Miss Rachel approached. As I busied myself sponging down the dress to get rid of the dried cum stains I couldn’t help reflecting that this would be the first time I had ever stood up to her. How would she take it? What would she say?

I didn’t have long to find out. When I logged on she was waiting for me as usual. A broad smile appeared on her face as she saw how I was dressed.

‘You look beautiful dear. I hear you left an impression last night too. I’m glad. Stand up, let me see you properly’.

She must have seen the expression on my face.

‘Do you have something you want to say Sophie?’

I screwed up my courage. Then I blew it.

‘Yes.....last night.......I never expected.......never wanted. You can’t treat me like that’.

I got no further. A look of cold fury crossed her face.

‘Don’t you DARE tell me what I can do to you. I own you. You’re nothing but a sissy SLUT. I decide what you want and you’d better get used to it.’

I stared - mute - at the screen, my face turning deep red. I had been shocked into silence.

‘I think it’s time I explained the reality of your situation. I want you to look at this’.

An HTML link appeared on my screen. Cold fear growing inside me I clicked on it. Very slowly a new window opened. The title appeared first. ‘English sissy whore seeks cocks to suck’. A picture started to appear. Slowly downloading. I stared at the screen, mouth open. The picture was me. Last night. Lying on the floor of a Soho bedroom dressed as a French Maid and covered in cum. There was a menu next to the picture. Lots more pictures, some taken from the webcam and some from last night. There was a short video film of me smiling and curtsying to the camera. Another of me in the sex shop last night serving customers. It must have been from the security cameras. On one page I saw the classified advertisement Miss Rachel had made me place. Underneath were my replies, in all their glory. There was some text on the Home Page, all about how I was a sissy slut desperate to be humiliated and find more cock to suck. There was a visitor’s book for people to leave their comments and my e-mail address if anyone wanted to send me something privately. I looked down in the bottom right corner of my screen and saw I had received a new message. It was starting already!

It didn’t register at first. I was scrolling down the page and there at the bottom was my name - my real name. Next to it was my address and my phone number. I raised my head to look at the screen. Ashen faced. Miss Rachel was staring at me in triumph. She held a phone in her hand. As I watched she clicked a button. After a few seconds delay the phone started ringing behind me. Shrill. Demanding. Automatically I turned to get it. Miss Rachel clicked another button. The noise stopped.

‘As you can see I’ve been doing my homework. I know everything about you Sophie, absolutely everything. That site you’ve just been looking at is live on the Internet. It’s going to stay there for the next 30 minutes. Then I’ll take it down. But any time you displease me I will put it back. I might even put it back just to amuse, perhaps for an hour or so every week. It’s unlikely any of your friends will see it but I can always send them the link. You see I’m a bit of a computer expert on the quiet and I’ve stolen your entire e-mail address book. I wonder what your parents would think? I see they use AOL. Perhaps I should send the link to your College - I’m sure it would make you famous. Or am I thinking of infamous? I own you body and soul slut. Things are going to be very different from now on. I will NOT tolerate disrespect. You’re mine and you’d better get used to it.’

By now I could barely hear anything apart from the rushing sound in my ears. My heart was beating furiously. I was fucked. Totally fucked. There was nothing I could do.

‘I think it’s time we met dear. Write down this address.’

An address appeared on my screen. It was near Bristol, a city in the west of England close to the Welsh border. Obediently I wrote it down.

‘On Saturday I’m having a dinner party. Just a few of my closest friends. You will serve us. I expect you here at 3:00PM on Saturday afternoon, dressed in your uniform.’

She proceeded to tell me exactly what I would have to say before being let into her house and what my duties would be once the evening started.

‘You can drive here in that ridiculous little car of yours. One more thing - when you arrive I expect you to be wearing your uniform and NOTHING else. I will check the car and if I find any other clothes or I think you have disguised your appearance in any way I will drop the keys in the gutter and leave you in the street. Is there anything you’re not clear on slut?’

By now Miss Rachel was getting used to the sight of blood drained from my face. I was horrified, she was ordering me to take a 3 hour drive dressed as a French Maid! What if my neighbours saw me? What would happen when I had to stop for petrol? What if I broke down? I couldn’t go through with it, and yet what choice did I have? Perhaps she would leave me alone if I just obeyed her this one time.

That night a plan began to form in my mind. I knew I had to do this, the alternative of being unmasked as a sissy to all my friends and family was too awful to contemplate. Even if I ran away I was sure she would expose me, if only to satisfy her desire for revenge. No, this was my new life now and the sooner I accepted it the better. I had two days until the weekend, the best thing I could do now was to prepare so I could get to Bristol and back with as little risk of exposure as possible.

The following day I took my little Citreon 2CV to the garage and bought two large jerry cans. I filled them with petrol and put them in the boot. It was three hours each way to Bristol and I had no intention of stopping at a Filling Station on the motorway dressed as a French Maid if I could help it! As far as I could I checked my car over to make sure there was nothing wrong that might cause a breakdown. I also brought a large scale map of the Bristol area and marked Miss Rachel’s house on it. Luckily it was in a rural area and it looked like there were few other houses around.

I slept through most of Friday but got up late afternoon to have a huge tea. Although I told myself everything would be fine it really did feel like the condemned man eating his last dinner. I figured the biggest danger was one of my neighbours seeing me and I planned to leave very early on Saturday morning to make sure that didn’t happen. I set my alarm for 4:00AM and went back to bed to try to sleep.

When the alarm went off there was a split second when I didn’t remember why I was getting up in the middle of the night. Then reality hit me. I was getting used to the clothes by now so it didn’t take me long to dress. I lived on the top floor so I was careful to have a good look out the window before leaving the flat. As I heard the lock on the door click shut I realised I had no idea when I would be returning.

When I got to the car I remembered there was a blanket on the back seat. I figured that a blanket wasn’t really clothing so I wrapped it around me to give me a little camouflage. The ride out to the motorway wasn’t that bad, I didn’t see another living soul for the first twenty minutes. The motorway was scarier but I stayed in the slow lane and kept my head down. When I got near to Bristol I took one of the A roads and headed for a large area of woodland a few miles from Miss Rachel’s house. I earned a few shouted comments, but nothing serious.

It was now early morning and I found a deserted area off the road where I could refill my petrol tank from one of the cans and get some rest. I managed to doze for a bit but I was too wired to sleep. Soon enough it was twenty to three and I started the engine to drive to Miss Rachel’s house. My heart was pounding as I drive down the narrow country roads. At first there was nobody around but then I began to see people, one and two at first and then larger groups. I hunched low down in the seat, hoping they wouldn’t pay attention. The first time I passed the house I didn’t realise, I had to circle the block again before finding a place to park. My vision narrowed as I stopped the engine. This was it, the moment Miss Rachel opened the front door she would know she had me. Had me for ever. I was kidding myself before when I thought she might let me go after a little while. She would never let me go. I couldn’t think about it, couldn’t think about the implications of what I was about to do. Yet there was no alternative. I couldn’t allow Miss Rachel to expose me. Couldn’t give her the excuse to reveal what I really am to my friends and family.

As I walked down the street it was deathly quiet, only the sounds of birds singing in the trees. There was nobody around. I could hear my heels clicking against the pavement. A child rounded the corner of the long street in front of me, looked and pointed. His mother appeared and pulled him away. I realised I had reached the house. It was a three story Georgian town house, painted white and with a gravel drive in the front. There was a low wall facing the street and a bank of trees behind it. I paused, taking a deep breath and walked up the gravel drive. When I reached the front door I dropped to my knees as instructed. Then, finally, I reached up and pushed the bell. It was symbolic. Once I pushed that bell my old life was over. I belonged to Miss Rachel now.

It seemed to take an age for the door to open. I didn’t look up or down, just kept my gaze lowered. Finally the door was opened. As instructed I kept my face lowered. She had told me what to say.

‘It is your servant Sophie Mistress. I am here to serve you’.

My voice trembled but did not crack. She took one step closer to me. All I could see was her long slim legs, perched on slim black 4" heels with a strap running across the back of the foot.

‘Look at me dear’.

I raised my head. For the first time I looked directly at those eyes. They bored directly into me. She smiled in triumph. She knew I wouldn’t fight her.

Abruptly she turned on her heel.

‘Follow me. Shut the door behind you’.

I followed her into the house. It was beautifully decorated, she was clearly a very well off woman. We reached a large open plan sitting room with a white pile carpet and light blue walls. I saw French Windows at the rear opening onto a neatly kept garden. There was a computer in the far corner, I realised this was the room I had been speaking to her in.

Miss Rachel sat down on one of the low sofas. I knelt in front of her. She was wearing a blue mid calf skirt which she pulled up to her waist. No knickers. She had shaved as well and I could see she was already very wet. Suddenly she leaned forward with no warning, grabbed the hair at the back of my head and pulled my face into her sex. The smell was musky and overpowering. I found I had to turn my head sideways slightly to allow me to breathe. She had incredibly strong leg muscles, she gripped me in a vice like hold. I began to suck and lick. Almost immediately I got a reaction, she shuddered violently and began to moan. I plunged my tongue into her as far as I could and began to gently nibble her lips. Her moaning grew louder and louder and began to rock forwards and backwards. My head locked between her legs, her grip tighter and tighter until I thought my head would explode. Within a few seconds I bought Miss Rachel to orgasm, her juices rubbing into my face and dripping into my eyes and nose. By now my little sissy clittly was hard and standing proud underneath my layers of skirts. I desperately wanted to rub it but didn’t dare. Miss Rachel kept going, grinding into me harder and harder. I was desperate for relief, desperate to be allowed to cum as she ground down on my face. She kept me there for nearly fifteen minutes, only freeing me after her third orgasm. I collapsed onto the floor, sucking in the cool clean air. She paid absolutely no attention, rising to her feet and then reaching down to grab my hair again. Half stumbling I was led through to the kitchen.

‘You’re a lucky girl Sophie. I was going to send you to the supermarket and let you cook but I’ve decided to be nice. My caterers delivered the food this morning. It’s in the fridge. All you’ve got to do is heat it and serve it. I want you to go and clean yourself up and freshen your make up. My guests will be arriving at 6:30. I expect the table to be laid and some snacks to be put out. You will greet them at the door, take their coats and serve the drinks. Dinner will be at 8:00 sharp. I expect you to serve and then wait in the kitchen. When we’re ready for you to clear the plates I will ring my bell’.

She smiled at me.

‘Is that clear dear? I’m going to take a nap now. I’ll be down about half an hour before the guests arrive. Don’t let me down’.

With that she was gone, majestically sweeping out the kitchen and up the stairs without waiting for me to say anything. I stared after her for a few seconds and then got to work. As I busied myself ironing the linen table cloth I reflected on how much my life had changed. A few weeks ago my biggest worry was passing my first month’s computer exam. Now here I was a feminised slave to this woman who had just used my face as a sex toy. I could feel a stirring in my groin as I thought about it. I would have to be careful to keep that hidden tonight.

I was soon in a routine, rushing around getting things ready. It felt so natural and right, this weird experience was beginning to become reality to me. In my mind I really was the maid, and the mistress of this gorgeous house had given me responsibility for getting everything ready for tonight. I was determined not to let her down.

Soon it was 6:00PM and Miss Rachel reappeared dressed in a black silk evening dress. She seemed genuinely pleased with my work and allowed me to pour myself a quick drink before the guests arrived. My nerves were on edge and I gulped down my gin and tonic, finishing just before the doorbell rang. I walked unsteadily towards the front door.

‘Keep your head and shoulders up. Remember to be proud of what you are Sophie’.

Miss Rachel’s words ringing behind me I opened the door. The guests had all arrived together, three men and four women. I didn’t know if they had been told about me but they showed absolutely no surprise. They just marched in and deposited their coats into my open arms. From then on it was a whirlwind of tasks, getting drinks, making sure the oven was on, passing round snacks. Miss Rachel gently coaxed me by pushing me in the direction of a guest when their glass was empty. Before I knew it half an hour had passed and I was beginning to think this might not be too bad. I had to put up with the odd grope but mostly they treated me just like any domestic servant employed to feed and water them.

I had just come back in the room from the kitchen when Miss Rachel signalled that Mr Smit’s glass needed refilling. Mr Smit was an American, with a broad southern twang. I refilled his glass, curtsied and said.

‘Will there be anything else Sir?’

He looked me up and down, lingering on my tightly corseted waist.

‘Ahhh think I’d like my dick sucked honey’.

I didn’t think I’d heard properly the first time. Then he repeated it. I looked around, everyone was staring at me. I panicked. Miss Rachel fixed me with that look I had come to know so well.

‘She’s new Bill. I do apologise.’

Then she turned to me.

‘GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES THIS INSTANT. I will tan your hide unless I see that pretty little mouth locked around Mr Smit’s cock in ten seconds’.

She stared straight into my soul. I was desperate, desperate for any way out.

‘What are you scared of Sophie? Real girls do this all the time. You do want to be pretty and feminine don’t you? You’ll soon grow to love the taste and you will make me so proud of you’.

My hand brushed against the satin folds of my skirts. My nose was full of the smells of my perfume. Perched on my high heels I realised she was right. I did want to be pretty and feminine. Very slowly I sank to my knees and unzipped his trousers. No wonder Mrs Smit had been smiling ever since we arrived, his cock was huge! This one was going to give me lockjaw! As gently as I could I eased it between my lips and began to suck. I can’t describe the feelings that came over me as this living thing grew inside my mouth. I worshipped it, determined to make Miss Rachel proud of me. Around me conversation was going on as normal, everyone was ignoring me. As he neared orgasm I heard Mr Smit’s voice falter a couple of times and then he came, shooting hot creamy cum down my throat. I managed to swallow it all and then carefully tucked him back in and zipped his trousers up. Through all this he carried on talking but tapped me on the ass a couple of times as I turned to go back to the kitchen.

‘Very good dear. You have repaid your Mistress’s confidence’.

I blushed at the praise as I saw Miss Rachel’s face break into a broad smile.

Miss Rachel decided it was time to start dinner and I began to serve the first course. As instructed I waited in the kitchen while they were eating until I heard Miss Rachel’s bell summoning me back. I entered expecting to start clearing the plates when I heard her ask.

‘Tell me Sophie, what’s the capital of Burma?’

‘I’m sorry Miss?’

‘It’s a simple enough question dear. Do you know the capital of Burma?’

‘.....I’m afraid not Miss’

‘Oh dear. Do your parents that expensive private education was wasted? Better take your apron off.’

A ripple of laughter came from the guests.

‘My apron? I don’t understand’.

‘It’s a game dear. Every time you come in here we will set you a challenge. It may be a general knowledge question or we may give you a task. We might give you 30 seconds to retrieve five items from upstairs. We might have you sing the second verse of the National Anthem. It amuses us? Understand?’

I reddened as I realised the implications. Yet, there was nothing I could do. Obediently I reached behind me and pulled open the bow before taking the apron off over my head. The guests applauded.

Sure enough by the time I served coffee I was down to my corset, panties, stockings and heels. Miss Rachel instructed me to wait by the window so that I could refill the guest’s glasses more easily. As I stood there I could feel a cold draft of air from the window hitting my exposed back. At one point the guests started asking Miss Rachel about me and they started a lively discussion about the standards of obedience to be expected from a sub. Although Miss Rachel illustrated her argument with plenty of real life examples of how she had dominated me I was totally ignored unless they wanted something. It was so humiliating standing against the wall with my head down, dressed in almost nothing and listening to the guests talking about me like I wasn’t there.

By this time dinner was nearly over and I began to believe the end of my ordeal was in sight. I was sent out to fetch the Brandy from the front room. I had begun to relax by now and was concentrating on not tripping on the edge of the rug as I minced back into the room. One set of hands deftly lifted the tray and pulled it out of my hands. Another guest stepped behind me and pinned his arms around my waist while a third guest seized my wrists. I saw Miss Rachel out of the corner of my eye holding a set of manacles. Within a few seconds a wide leather belt had been locked around my waist connected by two short lengths of chain to handcuffs. My hands were forced behind my back and lifted up before being locked into the cuffs. A wide metal collar with thin spikes set into it angled upwards was locked around my neck. The spikes were short but sharp enough to make me keep my head perfectly straight to avoid hurting myself.

As I was forced down to the ground I saw a row of thick meaty dick’s in front of me. This time I didn’t need any encouragement; I wrapped my lips around the first one and began to suck. One of the guests had a riding crop and was beating my ass to encourage me. As the first one came near to orgasm he pulled himself out of my mouth and sprayed cum all over me. Immediately he had finished I found myself yanked to the left and faced with a fresh penis. By the time I had worked my way down the line I was covered in cum and my arms and jaw where aching.

I saw the women had stripped down to their underwear as well and as I staggered sideways exhausted one of the female guests pushed me to the floor and sat on my face. By now I was desperate for a break but didn’t dare stop even for a second. Her smell was overpowering, she had been fingering herself and was already very wet. After about ten seconds with my tongue exploring she came. My whole face, nose, eyes, ears where covered as she gave in to a shuddering orgasm.

By now there was so much filth on my face I could barely see, I just lay on the floor panting and trying to regain my breath. I could feel hands on my panties but I was too tired to even raise my head to see what was happening. I felt my panties being pulled down to my knees and then strong hands seized my arms and then raised my hips. They needn’t have bothered, it was impossible for me to fight any more. I heard a sound behind me and then a massive vibrator was eased into me. ‘Eased’ is entirely the wrong word as they simply pushed as hard as they could and took no account of my screams. As the waves of pain hit me I relaxed my muscles to try and make it less intense. My ass felt like it was splitting in two but eventually it was there. It is impossible to describe the feelings that swept my body as they switched it on. Waves of pain and pleasure. I could barely feel my ass anymore and they had to help me to my feet and pull my knickers back up over the vibrator. I found it difficult to even concentrate on what they were saying as every step I took seemed to shake my whole body. There was no way I could remove the vibrator or even touch it as my hands where still manacled behind me. As I stood in the middle of the room I saw that Miss Rachel was standing in front of me holding a camcorder. She must have filmed the whole episode as yet more embarrassing evidence to blackmail me with. Humiliated beyond belief I shuffled back into the corner, my manacles clinking with every step and cum beginning to dry on my face and in my hair. The vibrator was still going, making every step a nightmare.

‘She shows definite promise Rachel. Perhaps I could borrow her for a weekend?’.

It was Mrs Davies speaking. Inwardly I shuddered, she and her husband looked particularly cruel. They were very overweight and never missed an opportunity to hit me or insult me. Miss Rachel fixed me with an indulgent look.

‘I’m sure you can. There will be plenty of opportunities. Sophie’s training has only just started’.

Miss Rachel never allowed me to go home after that evening. After the guests left she explained that she was only doing what was best for me. I had to face up to my inner desires, if the last few weeks showed nothing else surely they proved I was a true sissy? Of course I fought against it at first, if I have to be honest I was too terrified to face the truth. I kept insisting I was a man and she couldn’t do this to me. Looking back it seems laughable, I remember standing in the middle of the kitchen dressed in a red rubber dress and thigh boots with spiked heels screaming at her that I wasn’t a girl and she couldn’t treat me like one. Of course I was kept in chains for the first few months and she seemed to be constantly punishing me. The hardest part was dealing with my family and friends. Miss Rachel put the web site live a few weeks later and sent them all the link, as soon as they saw it they totally disowned me.

Over time I realised why Miss Rachel was doing this and how much I owed her. I constantly tell her how grateful I am she spends so much time and effort on me. She is my entire world now, my every waking moment is spent trying to make her happy. My fondest memory is waking up in hospital after the operation to give me real breasts. Miss Rachel was sitting by my bed and the first thing I saw was her smile. She had even brought a present with her, sitting by the side of my bed she showed me my new strapless French Maid’s dress. It is absolutely gorgeous and shows off my new ‘assets’ perfectly.

I hear a knock on the door. One of my bridesmaids puts her head round it, looking beautiful in her dark blue dress. The car has arrived, it is nearly time for the ceremony. With a song in my heart I stand up and head for the door, ready to begin my new life.

I hope you enjoyed the story, if you have any comments or suggestions you can e-mail me at sissy_charlotte@sissify.com.

 

 

 

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