The Count of Monte CristoChapter 58 M Noirtier de Villefort
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I'm Doing WHAT For A Living? free porn video
I'm Doing WHAT For a Living?!
by Steve Zink
I am now making all my money strictly from forcing lowly slaves to
grovel at my feet. I'll take anyone into my dungeon, be they male or
female, but it is fellow crossdressers that I prefer to humble the most.
Yes, that is right. I said fellow crossdressers. What? You don't
think your Mistress is really a male, and not the beautifully vicious
vixen you're viewing? Let me tell you my story...
I had been a crossdresser for all of my adult life, having started
while puberty was just making its first changes. For all I know, it
may have been a slight variation in hormones that made me go from a
boy to a man who loved looking like a woman. I usually just dressed at
home to excite myself, but occasionally I would go to a dominatrix who
would make me change while degrading me for being such a sissy. I
don't know why I was so willing to give my money to someone who was
only making me think of myself as a baseless fool. That is probably part
of the whole background of myself and many other TV's. We just feel a
need to be degraded.
Two years ago at this time, just before Halloween, I was getting the
usual yearly longings to join in all the costuming and let my feminine
side stand out. Well, at the parties, anyway. I still wouldn't dream
of dressing in public for all the world to see. I did get the urge to
visit another dom, though, and started looking through the ads that were
in the back of one of the CD newspapers. One ad in particular caught
my eye, because I had a fetish for high heeled boots. Mistress Monique
said in her ad that she could turn any slave into a whimpering whore.
It was her picture that really got me. She was dressed from head to toe
in glossy black vinyl, with thigh high boots that had impossibly high
heels. I noted the phone number, and later that day, made an
appointment that would forever change my life.
The address that I was given turned out to be a split-level house in
what looked like a quiet neighborhood. I had been told to arrive no
later than 9 o'clock sharp, so to be safe, I parked my Saab along the
curb out front at quarter to nine. What's that you say? A Saab?
Oh, did I forget to tell you that until that fateful night I was
making a living quite nicely as an online stock broker? My name was
well-known, but almost no one could put a face to that name. I made all
my money at home, and only rarely went to business functions that gave
others a chance to meet the elusive James T. Brooks. Of course, working
at home also allowed me to work en femme occasionally, should I get
the urge, and the bucks I made allowed me to build up quite a wardrobe.
I had plenty of dresses and skirts, but never had enough nerve to get any
really daring clothes. For really daring outfits, I went to Mistresses
who had a large wardrobe of their own.
That's why I was parked in front of the split-level that evening. I
looked at my gold Swiss watch as I approached the door, and wondered
if right on time would have been better. I decided to ring the doorbell
anyway, since the Mistress was probably waiting for me.
I saw the peephole on the door get dark as an eye came to it to check
on the visitor, and moments later the door was opened inwards. I
stepped inside, and saw a beautiful woman in a bathrobe with her red
hair wound up on top of her head. "You are a bit early, slave. I was
just getting ready for your visit when I heard the doorbell. You will
have to wait in the dungeon while I finish." Her voice sounded a bit
rough, but I attributed that to a hard day. "Follow me, James," she
continued, "and be a good slave or I will find even more to punish you
for than getting here before I was ready!"
I was lead to a door which opened to a dark stairwell going down.
The light switch was flipped up before I stepped in, and I gasped
momentarily at the sight below me. I was descending into what looked
like a true medieval dungeon! As she was closing the door behind me,
Mistress said, "Look around all you'd like, slave, but don't touch. I
want to introduce you to all the toys myself. Be a good little boy!"
I just couldn't resist, and besides looking, I softly fingered some
of the hard steel rings and poles, the softer but not delicate leather
straps and cushions, and the smooth rubber on innumerable implements
of sadomasochistic depravity. I made sure to not leave any fingerprints
or streaks, and could only gaze in awe at what I would presumably be
subjected to in a short time. I was about to sit atop one of the saw
horses when I saw the closets along one wall.
The first set of doors I opened revealed a number of wigs on wig
stands, masks and hoods of all kinds. There were also a few costumes
like French Maids and Nurses in a number of sizes in both latex and
vinyl. I shook my head, and could only wish for what my Mistress might
have planned. I closed that closet before any temptations could make
me go into scenes I did not want to visualize.
It was a different matter when I opened the next set of doors. This
closet had a large number of shelves, all holding stiletto heeled shoes
of all kinds of colors and sizes. I gasped upon first sight. Then I
lowered my eyes a bit, and saw the collection of boots set up on the
floor of the cabinet. These were again of all kinds of colors and
styles, but all were in the same size. I had to come to the conclusion
that the Mistress put her slaves into whatever shoes were needed, but
the boots were part of her own wardrobe. I could not resist, and picked
up a pair of black knee high boots to see what the size was.
Impossible! These boots were all in exactly the same size as all my
own female shoes back at the house.
I put the boots back down, but temptation won this time. I picked
them back up and brought them over to the sawhorse. I took off my own
shoes and socks, revealing the nylon anklets I'd worn underneath. I
slipped my left foot into the boot, and couldn't believe the arch it
went into. I zipped it up, marveling at how it hugged my calf. The
right boot was then put on, and I tried standing up. I had some tall
heels at home, but these were at least six inches, and I wobbled a bit.
I was just starting to sit back down when I heard the door at the
top of the stairwell opening. In a panic, I started to unzip the left
boot. I managed to jam the zipper in my haste. The zipper on the
right boot was halfway down when my ears were stunned.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, SLAVE?!"
I stopped zipping and looked up. I saw the very image that had lured
me in the ad. Mistress was dressed in a tight, formfitting black
vinyl bodysuit, matching shoulder length gloves, and thigh high black
boots with impossible heels. Her vibrant red locks were now hanging
freely down her back, and even with the domino mask covering her eyes,
the look on her face made the wicked makeup seem all the more vile.
Her legs were spread wide, and her balled fists were nesting in her wasp
waist.
"I...I...er, I was looking in the closet and saw all those shoes and
boots. When I saw that the boots were in my size, I just had to see
what it felt like to wear them. I'm sorry, Mistress. I just couldn't
resist. I know that I must now take my punishment..." My voice
dropped to a mumble as I hung my head.
"Oh, so you wanted to see what my boots felt like, did you? What on
earth made you think that you were worthy of trying on my boots, you
worthless scum?! Well, you're going to be punished, all right. If you
wanted to see what it felt like to wear your Mistress' boots, I'm going
to make sure you know well! Get those boots off, NOW, and get out of
those worthless clothes."
The zippers worked fine now that I was being more patient, and I was
careful to put them back just where I'd found them, hoping to appease
my Mistress. I quickly shucked my pants and shorts, then unbuttoned
my shirt. I was starting to stand again when I was told, "Get those
anklets off, too! When I say to get out of your clothes, I mean ALL
your clothes." Was her voice getting huskier as she got more irate?
"I was originally going to introduce you to the pleasures of this
dungeon, slave. You apparently have already made those introductions
yourself, so now the plan changes. Get your scrawny ass upstairs, and
don't dawdle!" She grabbed a crop that just seemed to suddenly be at
hand, and smacked my butt as I went by. I wasn't prepared, and yelped
at the stinging sensation. "Oh, you think that hurts, do you, slave?
Poor baby, you just wait!"
I was led to her bathroom, which was still a bit steamy from the
shower she'd taken just before my arrival. As I watched, Mistress
filled the tub with tepid water, and added a sweet smelling pink fluid
when the water stopped. This made the water foam, and I assumed it
was sudsy soap to cleanse my body. "Get into the tub, James. Slide in
until all of you is under except your head." I was more than a bit
puzzled about this use of my given name instead of 'slave', but had
little time to ponder it.
Mistress Monique slipped a pair of rubber gloves over her vinyl ones,
and the bright yellow stood out from the black insanely. She grabbed a
wash sponge, and started to scour my softening skin with it. I could
feel what was happening, even if I couldn't see it. That wasn't soap
in the water, it was a depilatory! My skin was being turned into a
silky-smooth texture that I'd never before felt. It may have been that
smooth when I was a baby, but my memories didn't go back that far.
When every hair was gone, Mistress pulled the plug to let the water
drain.
After the hair refuse had been cleared from the trap over the drain,
Mistress pulled the shower curtain closed and told me to rinse off. I
felt how smooth I now was as I palmed myself in the shower, and could
only assume that I was in for some intense feminization. When the
shower curtain was pulled back, Mistress was in just her bustier, mask
and panties; the catsuit, boots and gloves she'd been wearing were
nowhere in sight. I dried off much more quickly than before thanks to
the velvety skin I now had, and when I'd finished, she stood expectantly
in the doorway.
"Now for the fun part. Have a seat at my makeup table, James. You
will very soon have no way to make claim to that name, slave. I'm
letting you hear it while it still applies. When I'm finished, James
will be history. That's it, take a seat." I was actually looking
forward to this feminization, thinking it was part of the role playing
that the domination scene called for. I couldn't let this show,
however; that would be out of character.
Mistress applied makeup much better than any I'd used in the past.
The foundation filled all my pores and smoothed over the roughness of
my remaining beard, and what went on next was pushed, prodded and
brushed until I felt like my face had been intensely massaged. I was
instructed to keep my eyes closed, and I could feel the mascara, shadow
and eyeliner being applied. When this was finished, Mistress told me to
keep my eyes closed until she was finished. She wanted to finish with
my lips before letting me see the new me. I felt the pencil outlining the
shape of my lips, and the tube of lipstick following.
"Now you may look, slave."
When I opened my eyes, I saw a beautiful woman with a short butch
haircut. I found it hard to believe that somewhere underneath all that
was me. If she was going to so much trouble for my face, I couldn't
wait to see what Mistress had in mind for the rest of my 'punishment'.
"Okay, my pretty, let's get you back downstairs now. The real fun
is about to begin. You wanted to see what it felt like to wear your
Mistress' boots? You're going to find out, oh how you're going to
find out!" I was led to the stairwell, and felt a bit of a chill on my
slick skin.
The first thing that Mistress did was to pull a gaffe into place with
my prick pulled up tightly underneath it. Oddly enough, it had been
soft before folding back, presumably because the excitement of the
transformation was overridden by the awe of the process. I noted that
the exterior of the gaffe resembled the nether regions of a female
crotch, even having pubic hair around what looked like the twin lobes of
the labia. Then she laced me into a bustier from the closet which
matched the one she wore. Tighter and tighter the laces were drawn,
until they could be tightened no more. The laces were double knotted,
and I now had a wasp waist the likes of which I'd never attained before
in all my years of crossdressing. I could barely breathe!
Two huge breast forms were brought from the closet, and inserted into
the cups of the bustier. I was becoming a bit alarmed when they were
blended into my skin with tape and makeup, and gave me what looked
like real cleavage. Was this starting to go a bit too far?
"Good. Now your body is starting to match that gorgeous face of
yours. I told you James would no longer be applicable. You look more
like a Jacqueline now. Yes, that is your name now, slave. You are
Jacqueline. Turn around, Jacqueline, and face the wall."
I could hear Mistress Monique moving around behind me, but didn't
dare turn to watch. When I was finally told to turn, she was holding
a pair of panties which looked identical to those she was wearing. She
handed them to me, and I was barely able to bend enough to slip my legs
into them and pull them up. With the panties in place, the image I saw
in the mirror looked all the more like a true woman, except for the hair
atop her head.
What really surprised me was what she handed to me next. It was the
same black vinyl catsuit she had been wearing until shortly before. It
was then that I noticed that not only were the two of us similar in
height, but thanks to the foundation garments I was now wearing, we had
comparably shaped bodies as well. Mistress helped me slip my legs into
it, then started lacing up the sides as I pulled it up over my torso and
then my arms. Once all the lacings on the legs and arms had been
tightened, Mistress handed me the vinyl gloves. When the gloves were
in place, I was stunned to find myself being pushed backwards toward
the wall.
Mistress Monique took each hand and slapped a padded leather cuff
over the wrist. She locked these so fast that I could tell she'd done
it often. What I wasn't prepared for was the winching that the chains
attached to the cuffs then performed. My arms were stretched out and
up, such that I was now standing on my tippee toes with almost no
weight on them. I found out why this was so in no time.
The thigh high stretch vinyl boots with the impossibly high heels
that Mistress had been wearing were brought over and zipped onto my
legs. The height of the heels actually raised me up enough that my arms
felt a bit of slack. This was not to last; Mistress went to the controls
and raised my arms a bit more once she was finished with the boots.
"So, Jacqueline, how does it feel to be wearing your Mistress boots?
You've not only got the boots now, but you have the entire costume." I
looked down to see what looked exactly like the image I'd seen at the
bottom of the stairs earlier. "Do you enjoy the constraint and the
severe arching of your boots and the rest of the outfit?"
"I do feel like I am in very tight garment, with my feet at an
unnatural angle. If you were trying to show me that my wishes to feel
what it was like to wear my Mistress's boots entailed a lot more that
what I thought, Mistress, you have made your point. I thank you for the
privilege of becoming a twin of my Mistress."
"Jacqueline, why did you call them your Mistress's boots? Didn't you
hear me say that they were your Mistress boots?"
"My Mistress boots? What do you mean, Mistress? I may look like
you did until earlier, but with this short hair I hardly complete the
picture. Though I look a bit like you, that hardly qualifies calling
them my boots."
"Oh, did I forget something? Here, let me fix that!"
I was gaping when I saw Mistress Monique reach up and carefully pull
off a long red wig which I'd have sworn was her real hair. The short
brown hair underneath looked not unlike the hair on my own head. That
hair on my head disappeared moments later under the red wig. After she
brushed it out, Mistress picked up the domino mask and laced it around
my head. The transformation had been completed. The image I saw in
the mirror on the opposite wall was that of the Mistress herself.
I was too busy marveling at the new self image I had to catch the
fact that my ankles had been secured to more cuffs. When these
suddenly started winching outward, I took notice. I was completely
immobilized now, my neck being the only easily moved part of body. I
watched as Mistress Monique walked over to the sink along the wall.
Mistress splashed water onto her face, then started scrubbing it with
a washcloth. When she finished, I saw a face as masculine as that with
which I had entered the house an hour earlier. HE had a grin on HIS
face as he turned to face me. The corset was unlaced and fell free from
his body, and the breast forms were loosened from his chest with a
solvent he took from the cabinet below the sink. He pulled off his
panties to reveal a gaffe similar to the one I was wearing; nae, not
similar, identical. When the gaffe was pulled down, his cock fell from
the position up against the crotch in which it had been hiding.
"Are you surprised, Jacqueline? I am no more a female than you, yet
I had you thinking before that I was an ultrafeminine dominatrix,
right? Well, you wanted to see what it was like to wear the Mistress
boots, and now you ARE the Mistress. How do they feel? I hope you
like them, because they are indeed now your own." I was too stunned to
say anything at all.
"I did a bit of research on you after you called me last week. I
found out all there was to know about James T. Brooks, and the small
fortune he'd made working the market from his home workplace. With
the background I've got myself, I took all the data I had about you and
set up the little trap that you walked into. You see, Jacqueline, I now
have in my possession the wallet and keys of James T. Brooks. Since
the elusive face of James T. Brooks was not known well by anyone, the
fact that he is going to assume a new face will be of no consequence.
I made plenty of money working out of this house, but I think I'm going
to really enjoy the tenfold increase I'll be getting from working out of
your old house."
"You can't be serious!" I shouted. "You can't take my place in the
world!" Before I could say any more, a large orange ball gag was
placed between my teeth and secured tightly. I could do no more than
make sexy moaning sounds now.
"Oh yes I can, MISTRESS JACQUELINE! I know enough about how
you worked to fit right in, and when I have finished conditioning your
brain, you will have no other life than that which I was leading here.
You and I are going to trade places, Mistress. I may even come here
on occasion to be dominated by you. I know you're going to be busy
after I start spreading the word about how good you are at what you do.
By the time I'm finished, you will have no name other than Jacqueline.
Your new life awaits you!"
That is how I began to lead the life which is now my own, and love
it too much to ever give it up.
The end.
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