Decent into Beauty Part 3
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Decent To Beauty: Part 4 free porn video
Decent to Beauty: Part 4
By latexslut
Chapter 16
Dianna was angry.
Charlene and Desiree had told her everything last night, all the
sordid details and it hurt her pride so much that she had started
crying there right in front of them while they relaxed in the
Jacuzzi.
She had been going crazy stuck in the music room for the last
four days with no one to talk to and no television to watch. The
batteries on the vibrator had run out long since and besides, she
was sore. Even she could please herself only so long before she
was spent and pleasurized to full. Four, maybe five hours of
playing and orgasming a day was her limit. After all, Dianna
thought, I'm not like a nymphomaniac. Geez.
The music room was full of instruments and she had tried most of
them: The drums, the guitar, the piano and synthesizer. But they
had only frustrated her. She couldn't get any of them to make
pretty noise. She had avoided the sax and flutes and the brass
instruments like a plague, almost afraid of them. Even on the
drums, she couldn't keep a steady beat though Dianna knew that
her hips could sway to any tune like a metronome.
When Desiree and the flaming redheaded lady arrived, she had
almost wept with joy, even while being embarrassed at looking
like such a ragged used mess. Her makeup had smeared, her hair
was lank and she could smell her come that she hadn't bathed. But
they had hugged her, and together they had all gone into
Desiree's huge shower and cleaned her up, both of them sponging
her and comforting her and telling her that everything was going
to be okay. It made her wet inside.
Dianna's first thought at seeing the other lady, whom later
introduced herself as Chantel, was that she was crazy. Her
clothes of black and white clashed hideously, like a female
prostitute court jester or something, but it was Chantel who had
been most caring and who later did most of the talking. And
Desiree, whom Dianna was actually afraid of, seemed to look at
her with some sort of mixture of love and adoration. Dianna had
never seen the Mistress of the house look like that. Always her
lips had been curved down in kind of a permanent sadness.
After the shower, all of them naked and rubbing soapy breasts
together, with even Desiree laughing, though blushingly, they had
toweled dry and wrapped only in those, scampered on down to the
back patio, past the guest room. There had been some really bad
noise, or was it music, emanating from there, but Dianna didn't
say anything. I could even dance to that, she had thought. The
night was warm, and the Jacuzzi bubbling and steaming, and a
couple of bottles of wine on ice were set close by with wine
glasses.
"Dianna," Chantel had said after they were served, still looking
manic in her black and white clowns face. "We need to talk to you
about Henry."
The heat melted her tension, and the wine helped. "I was only
trying to do the right thing," she said tentatively.
"No, it's not that, Dianna. You did fine, very well in fact, and
I know that Mistress Desiree appreciates what you did in exposing
Henry's infidelity."
Dianna had gotten a bit confused by the complicated sentence and
words, but she felt in there that there was a compliment, so all
she said was thank you. She knew she wasn't smart. In fact, some
people had told her she was as dumb as a broken doorknob. But she
also knew that she had assets. Good assets, sexy assets. Someone
had once said she was definitely sexitudinal. She liked that
word. And she knew that she looked great, and gave and got great
sexitudinality. The next words hit her like nails.
"Henry told both me and Mistress Desiree that when you blew him,
it was for your sake. It was a mercy thing, because he felt sorry
for you," Chantel said seriously.
"What?"
"He told us that he thinks you're an ugly slant eyed whore."
"What!"
"Dianna, it's okay. I think you're beautiful, and so does
Mistress Desiree, otherwise she wouldn't have hired you to assist
in taking care of her beautiful house. But that's what Henry
said. He said your lips are thin, your eyes are small and that
you have bad breath."
"What!" Dianna looked from Chantel to Desiree, who nodded
solemnly.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Dianna. But I might as well
tell you everything, unless you want me to stop."
"No... I mean," Dianna said shakily. She couldn't believe this.
She always brushed her teeth with Colgate and took a mint,
sometimes two, before blowing a guy. She gulped her wine glass
empty, looked at Desiree, who nodded and refilled the glass.
"What, what else did Henry say?"
"Well, Dianna," Chantel continued softly as the Jacuzzi bubbled
calmingly. "He said you're bony, knock-kneed, dumber that rocks,
and he was going to fire you three days ago. He told me right in
Mistress Desiree's office that he was going to put you out on the
streets so you could maybe make nickels whoring yourself out to
people's dogs."
"Fuck!" Dianna sputtered and went into a coughing spiff as the
wine went down the wrong throat. "That meanie." She began to cry.
Henry had actually seemed nice, but now he was a big meanie just
like all the rest. "Meanie, fucking, mean meanie man."
"That's why we had to hide you away, for a while," Chantel went
on smoothly, pretending not to even notice the outburst.
"Mistress Desiree wants to keep you employed but in a slightly
different capacity."
"Fucking man meanie shit meanie bastard," she trailed off.
"Dianna, listen to me now. And hon, just shut the fuck up for a
bit. Okay?"
Dianna heard the instant change in the weather of Chantel's voice
and nodded meekly, but her mind went fuck, fuck, fuck that
bastard. My eyes are not small.
"There's more. Henry wants to be a woman, or mostly. Mistress
Desiree found all of these magazines and clothes that he reads
and wears. And after you blew him, Mistress Desiree found him
dressed in one of your maid's uniforms," Chantel had lowered
voice a pitch. "I'm pleased to say that's why I was hired. I'm a
counselor."
Dianna was speechless. She had seen guys in drag, the perverts,
but little Henry? To her, this was like two different worlds. It
was perfectly fine for her, she thought, to take on three guys at
once, or sleep with her girlfriends, but for a guy to wear
woman's clothes, and hers even! That was sick.
"Dianna, earth to Dianna, are you still here?"
"Jesus made a doo-doo. I can't believe this, Chantel." Again
Dianna looked at Desiree who again nodded solemnly and sipped her
wine.
Desiree said, "Dianna, if you think you're surprised, what about
me? All this time I've been living with an unfaithful
transvestite piece of shit. I've been living a lie. What I want,
is revenge. Don't I, Chantel?"
"Of course you do, Des, and you should have it. And so should
Dianna, after all those insulting things he said about you!"
continued Chantel, sipping wine, unmindful that the steam was
mixing her black and white make up into nightmarish blurs.
"But how?"
"Dianna, we're going to let Henry become the girl he wants to be,
but only so much more. Instead of serving him, Dianna, he will
serve you. Without question."
"He will?"
"He just damned well better, hadn't he?"
"I, er, I guess so," Dianna was confused. "I mean how?"
"Don't be such a brick! Dammit! He is going to be your maid. And
you are going to be his Queen. How high of heels to you wear?"
"I try to wear four inch heels, sometimes five, but my feet start
to hurt," Dianna said. So? She thought. I don't understand this.
"Then Henry should wear six inch heels, so his feet do hurt! The
price of beauty and all. Do you follow," Chantel leaned forward,
clearly exasperated. "Dianna, do you like corsets?"
"Well, no, but a girl must watch her figure, Ms. Chantel. I try
to get away with a girdle when I can."
"Henry loves wearing corsets. He even told us that maybe you
wouldn't look so bony if you were more serious in wearing your
corsets."
"He did?" Dianna asked and saw Mistress Desiree nod again.
I guess I better be more serious about my waist training. Then it
began to dawn on her. Bony? I'm not bony! I may not be the
smartest car in the boatyard, but I'm damn well the sexiest thing
there is. How dare he say I'm bony.
Chantel sipped her wine and smiled. "Des, I think Dianna's rusty
mental sprockets have started turning."
Desiree laughed and slid over towards her. "Chantel, I'm so glad
I found you. You've done wonders for me and opened my world in a
way I never imagined. I think you've gotten my sprockets finally
turning too. There's just a way about you."
Dianna didn't hear any of this. That little perverted asshole
wearing my clothes and saying all those horrible things about me.
And now I'm beginning to get mad. Dianna vaguely realized that
she had never really mad at anyone or anything before in her
life. Hurt, disappointed, sad, afraid, and maybe lonely. She knew
these emotions well, because life wasn't always easy for someone
like her. But she'd never really been mad, mostly because she
usually thought things were her fault. But now, the coals in the
furnace of her heart were beginning to light and heat.
Sometime later, she wasn't sure how long she had been thinking or
even sure what, she whispered hoarsely, "Where is the little
perverted pussylicker?"
Chantel stopped kissing Desiree and turned back to look at
Dianna. She was pleased to see the look in Dianna eyes. They
looked familiar to her, the look of the slightly insane that she
sometimes saw in her own eyes when she looked in the mirror.
"I see you've gotten the picture, Dianna. Good for you."
***
Dianna was waiting impatiently for Henry, watching the clock. He
was due in three minutes.
She hoped that he would be late, so she could punish him, though
she knew she would anyway.
It was part of her written schedule that Chantel, Desiree and her
had studied for hours last night. Fifty spankings with a ping-
pong paddle.
She had been confused about all the instructions, especially
about the part of what Henry, he was slut now, and she
remembered, could or couldn't say. She'd tried to remember it,
but finally Desiree had just written them down on the instruction
sheet and later during the evening in her room, she had written
them on her hand, just in case.
She took another look at herself in the mirror. She looked
awesome, even to herself. Gone was the maids dress - Chantel had
said that there would only be one maid in the house now. Instead,
she wore a tight black knee length leather dress with a high
collar and long sleeves and perched on her favorite strappy five
inch heels. She had put extra eyeliner around her eyes to make
them look bigger and cinched herself into her corset as best as
she could. Let's see who's bony now, you slut you.
There was a knock at the door. She breathed deeply, a bit afraid.
"Come in."
A woman in neon blue hair came in. She was wearing Dianna's maid
dress or something close to it, tottering on 4 inch spike heels.
She was carrying a tray with coffee and a breakfast of muffin,
scrambled eggs and toast. Her make up was heavy and tarty, and
had obviously been slept in. In fact, everything looked slept in,
but still the woman looked very, very good. Except for the red
puffy eyes. It was obvious to Dianna, that the woman had been
crying, and as usual, she felt a stab of sympathy.
"Henry?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Is that really you?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"You look fabulous!" Dianna found herself blurting out. "That
uniform really, wait a second... Henry Needmore, did you know
that you're a meanie!"
"Yes, Mistress," Henry said meekly, still standing in the
doorway, legs wobbling.
"Well, are you sorry about how mean to me you were?"
Henry didn't have a clue what she was talking about, but he said,
"Yes, Mistress."
Suddenly, Dianna remembered that Henry couldn't say very many
words. She hadn't believed it, but now she looked at the palm of
her hand, and started thinking - slowly. "You want to be a woman,
don't you?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Darn it you meanie, say it like you mean it."
"Yes, Mistress," Henry said more exuberantly.
"I think you've been bad and I'm going to punish you right down
to meanie hell, you bastard."
"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress," Henry said exuberantly, but
not the tray was shaking and the coffee was spilling a bit over
the rim.
Dianna strode over to him and slapped him in the face. The tray
tipped and breakfast fell to the floor, but she didn't notice.
She was getting right back to where she had left off last night,
hating him and angry.
"You dirty lazy slut. Look at you. And look at this mess you just
made. Get into the bathroom. It's enema time."
Dianna saw a tear begin to fall from Henry's eye, sliding over
the red tattooed teardrop, and almost felt a pang of endearment,
but then she thought, bony, and smacked him upside the head.
"Move, you stupid thing. Panties down and take your plug out."
She watched as Henry minced toward the attached bathroom,
noticing that with practice, he, or was it she, or was it he she
or she he. She groaned. Henry was slut. That's what she had been
told repeatedly last night. It would be easier to remember it
that way.
"Slut, move faster, darn it."
Dianna followed slut into the bathroom. It wasn't nearly as big
as Mistress Desiree's, but it was still nice. White instead of
black, good lighting, big bath, two sinks. Slut pulled his
panties down and with effort, reached back behind him and using
two fingers pulled the long plug out of his ass.
Slut stood up, holding the thing there.
Dianna thought it was disgusting. It was covered with hard yucky.
But she found a way to remain steady. Bony, she thought.
"I always thought you were full of shit." She laughed at that,
her giggles sounding soft and young. I made a funny. "Please, er,
clean that yucky thing."
"Yes, Mistress."
Suddenly Chantel's voice came out of the speaker attached to the
camera overhead. "Slut, you better start showing your Mistress a
bit more exuberance and respect and seem a bit more happy about
serving her, or I think I might just make you very sad."
Dianna started and saw slut practically jump. It came to her
then. "There's camera's everywhere in this house," she whispered
to herself.
"Yes, Governess. Thank you, Governess."
And then she saw slut busily soaping and washing the plug.
Exuberantly, even, whatever that meant.
"Dianna, if you don't mind, I think I'll step in here and give
you a hand," Chantel's voice said.
"Er, no, Ms. Chantel. Chantel, can you hear me?"
"Yes, of course I can. Slut, fill the enema bag, two quarts, no
more and make sure the water is warm, add the perfume over there
to the left and the vitamin E next to it. Now, chop chop, you
stupid whore."
"Yes, Governess."
Dianna watched amazed as little Henry, slut, did so, slowly
filling the red bag, hands shaking.
"Dianna, remember you are expected to supervise and oversee. You
don't really have to participate in most of these rituals, beyond
that."
"Thank god, Chantel. It's kind of gross."
"Perhaps, but necessary. Now slut, hook the bag, insert the
nozzle, and let flow."
"Yes, Governess."
"Thank me."
"Thank you, Governess."
"Thank Mistress Dianna."
"Thank you, Mistress."
"Are you filling, slut?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"How does it feel, slut?"
Dianna looked at her palm. What Henry-slut going to say to that?
"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress."
Dianna saw the bag slowly empty. She looked at slut. Slut looked
kind of green, under all that makeup. She noticed that Henry...
no slut, had the longest lashes she had ever seen.
"All full, slut?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Good. Now. Dianna, you will spank slut. Wear the rubber apron.
It's on the bathroom door. 50 for today, plus an extra 4 for her
demerits. Slut, get in the bathtub, knees down inside and arms
out. And slut, you may cross your legs if you like, because if
you let go even one drop of your enema, I will come down there
and fill your ass with concrete. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Of course you do. Dianna, begin."
Dianna had gotten the ping-pong paddle and now she hit slut on
his bare hairless soft butt. Tentatively.
"Dianna, slut is in your charge now, but remember you are in
mine, dear. I want you to hit slut's ass hard enough to make the
camera shake. I want you to break into a sweat. And I want you to
remember that slut called you a bony slant eyed skank!"
That was all it took. Suddenly Dianna was raining blows on this
stupid ass. She hadn't been able to play the drums earlier, not
with any rhythm, but now she was playing the ass in perfect beat.
Vaguely, she could hear slut-Henry whine, mewl, yelp and scream,
but now, she was doing the count. One and two. One and two. One
and two. Over and over again.
"Dianna, that's enough now!"
She stopped, realizing that she was sweating. "I think so, Ms.
Chantel. My arm hurts, actually," she laughed. I'm talking to Ms.
Chantel from far away. "Thank you for your help."
"You're welcome. Now help slut up and today at least, give her a
moment of privacy. It's a messy business anyways. Slut, you will
relieve yourself, wipe well, with the wipettes, and kneel again
back to where you were."
"Yes, Governess."
Dianna left, and closed the door, dazed. She heard slut do her
business and then, after flushing the toilet, something that
sounded like retching. But she's still a meanie, she thought.
Finally, she reentered the bathroom to find slut, tears
streaming, back straddling the tub. The smell was bad, but no
worse than normal.
"Dianna, in the med cabinet, there is a very choice plug. It's
two inches wide, all the way and six inches long. Take that and
ask if slut wants it."
Dianna opened the cabinet and saw it. It was red, fat, and
rippled. And big. Gosh, I couldn't fit that in my pussy, she
thought. Well, maybe. She grabbed it, and proffered it to slut.
"Do you want this in your meanie butt?"
"Y... Y... Yes, Mistress."
God, but she's a crybaby, she thought. Tears were flowing
everywhere, and her make up was already a mess. She reached over
to his puckered butt. She remembered she was supposed to put
slippery KY in his butt hole with her latex gloves and on the fat
thing. And then she was trying to cram it in. It wouldn't go.
"Dianna, this is a particularly fat plug, but slut is in
training. You will need to get behind him and push very hard."
Slut was almost screaming and Dianna felt like panicking.
Instead, she hit the meanie in the head, which slammed into the
rim of the tub. Slut yelped, but got quiet for a moment.
"Do it, Dianna."
She centered it as best she could. She had never done anything
like this. Nothing. Not the enema, not the fact that slut was
Henry, and certainly not a supersized butt plug into a mini sized
asshole, named meanie slut.
She put both hands onto it, leaned her chest to it, and rammed it
home. The effect was startling.
Slut flailed around wildly, knees skittering, screaming and
breathing through his, her nostrils, eyes rolling. But, Dianna
saw, somewhat amazed, sluts hands and arms waved all over the
place, but didn't try to remove the devilish device.
Chantel's voice came over the speaker again. "Slut, pull up your
latex panties. Somewhere in there is a g-string panty girdle,
just for you. Put that on too."
"Yes, Governess," slut mewled.
What a baby, Dianna thought. I've had it up my ass, and I loved
it. But then, she thought, he's a perverted slut-boy.
"Dianna, you did wonderful. This is what you will supervise
everyday. But, hon, make sure you don't do too much of the work.
I simply love how you played tennis with slut's ass. I could
almost hear you making points."
"Thank you, Ms Chantel. Now what shall I do?"
"Slut is to wear her new spikes today, dear. Six inch, like we
talked about last night. Since it's warm outside, I think the
thigh high stilettos will work well."
Dianna was getting hot by this. At first, it had seemed unreal,
but with all this coaching, and her not really having to do much
of anything, except for playing ass ping-pong, it was getting
fun. I'm not the biggest ship in the airport, she thought, but I
know how to do my job.
"Uh, Ms Chantel, may I have her please me first?"
"Always, Dianna, always. As long as you punish her after."
***
Desiree was watching the screen wetly. "Chantel, that plug. Is
that healthy for him?"
Chantel kissed Desiree for a moment, keeping her eyes on the
screen. "No, it's really bad. It probably tore her a bit. But the
longer slut stays stretched, the more she will need it."
"Oh."
"Soon, if you take it away, slut will beg to have it back."
"Chantel? You seem to know so much. How did you know how do make
all of this happen? I mean me, my soon to be ex-asswipe Henry,
and even Dianna. I mean she's not the brightest lightbulb."
"Dianna, the 4 watt bulb. I don't know, Des. I just know how to
turn on lightbulbs."
"Chantel," said Desiree. "You put up all these cameras
everywhere. What for?"
"Oh, Des. Just to keep an eye on slut. Don't worry about them.
You can see they help,"
Chantel lied. Inside she thought, I'm filming everything, girl.
Every fucking thing. And I am going to edit this just the way I
like. And you, Desiree drylips are going to pay. Dianna doorknob,
is going to pay.
And slut, my Henrietta, I'm going to push you to the limit,
because I have to, but then I'm going to bring you back, And you,
and this house, and your money, will be mine. I'm not totally
insane, everyone. Just a little bit.
(This story will conclude in about 3 more parts. Then I'll try to
re edit and add a bit more flavor. But then again, maybe 6 more
parts, or 9, or 69 or 96. It's the reader's call.)
Elouise
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