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Amsterdamn By Nancy Moore PROLOGUE: Wendy rocked back and forth in the window, grinding her plump arse into the wicker seat. The red thong was far too tight and the matching red bra, hanging with tassels, was about two sizes too small for her swollen breasts. Still, it did give her a lovely cleavage and the men seemed to like that. She rubbed her hands on her thighs, feeling the black silk stockings against her smooth flesh, then puffed out those blonde locks, wiggling her long hooped trashy earrings. Wendy looked down at her feet in those tight, tight black patent leather ballet shoes. She could barely walk in them, having to balance on the tips of her prettily painted toes and those long, sharp stiletto heels. But she could barely walk without them anymore. Not since the punishment. It had been twenty minutes since the last customer and Wendy was nervous. Mistress had made it very plain what would happen if she failed to bring enough money home tonight. And Wendy hated pain. She would be a good girl. She would grind her hips beneath the red light in her very own window and make men happy. She would pout her lips - red all the time now thanks to the tattoos - and cup her huge breasts and jiggle, just like she was taught. And Wendy wouldn't think of her old life. She wouldn't think about Peter - boring old Peter. And she wouldn't think of Jen ? especially of how Jen used to be. Somewhere in the back of Wendy's mind, she could hear a scream. A very faint scream, but a scream nonetheless. The scream was Peter. And he had been screaming ever since they came to Amsterdam. CHAPTER ONE Jen smiled as the gorgeous girl in the black dress came out of the changing room and walked towards her, just a bit hesitantly on those heels. "How do I look?" "Beautiful lover, beautiful. And you did a great job on the make up tonight, just," _ Jen produced a tissue and wiped a very slight smudge of cherry red lipstick from the edge of the girl's mouth. "Yeah that's it, perfect. How do you feel ... Wendy?" Sitting at the table beside her partner, Wendy's kohl-lined eyes widened. "Ooooooh. Nervous, I guess. Was I ages?" Wendy grinned. "Not too bad, I suppose. A ladies prerogative..." They both laughed. Jen and Wendy or rather Peter had been married for about a year. They lived in Scotland, in a pretty dull town, with pretty dull jobs, pretty low incomes and pretty ordinary lives. And they shared a pretty big secret. Wendy crossed her legs, showing a hint of her black stocking tops, and sipped her drink. Trying to pitch his voice just a little higher, he said: "There are some very beautiful women here. Do you think they are all trannies?" "Mostly," replied Jen, throwing back her long, straight red hair. "But none of them are as sexy as you. Seriously darling, you look stunning. I"m jealous." Wendy smiled again and pulled her skirt down slightly. This was his first time out in drag. And he had come all the way to Amsterdam to do it. It was the only place he felt safe enough. There were tv and ts clubs back in Scotland, but frankly he half expected one of his bosses to walk in on him ... or a workmate to spot him going into the meeting place or bar. This was better. No one knew him in Holland, apart from Jen. They had read about this bar on the internet, saved up their cash and flew over for a cheap for a four night stay. The hash bars had been nice, the canals wonderful, but this tiny bar, packed with overdressed and more than a few over-ripe 'girls' was the highlight of their first night abroad. They both had their glad rags on. Jen usually wore jeans when not at work, but tonight she looked fabulous in a short black skirt which showed off her legs and an almost transparent white blouse, which revealed a tantalizing glimpse of black bra. She had small, pert breasts, just right for her five foot figure. She was very petite ... which suited her husband, who was only five foot five and of a very slim build, with short blonde hair. At least, that's how he looked as Peter. As Wendy, he was five foot eight in his heels and looked much taller thanks to the blonde curly wig. Not much of a man, but one hell of a woman, Jen would joke sometimes. "Look at them," she whispered. Wendy glanced to her left and saw two women, sitting at a nearby table. Trannies? The taller of the two, latino-looking in a glittery red dress and seamed black stockings, was certainly a man, maybe in his mid 20s, standing over six foot two in a pair of painful looking heels. S/he had long curly black hair and a beautifully made up face, almost oriental looking. The other looked about mid 40's, but had stunning features - cheekbones which could have been carved by the hand of God. She had short red hair and was about five foot six, squeezed into a black leather dress, which was daringly low cut revealing most of her ample bosom. Wendy could see tan stockings and calf high black boots with a spiked heel. Nah, she had to be a real woman... "Lovely," said Wendy. "Do you think ... oh Christ, they've seen me." The woman had noticed Wendy staring at her and raised her wine glass in salute, smiling as she did so. "You've made a friend," giggled Jen. "Oh shit, they're coming over, what will I say." "Let me do the talking lover. Hi, love that dress." "Thank you," said the woman, speaking English with a slight Dutch accent. "I'm Christina and this is Sasha. Are you new here?" Sasha, towering over Wendy and Jen, just smiled. "Yes, could you tell? I'm Jen and this is my .... this is Wendy." Wendy smiled too, if a bit inanely. "Mind if we sit," said Christina. "Thanks. It's getting busy in here tonight for a weekday. Are you from England?" "Scotland," said Jen. "We're here for four nights, go back on Friday. Do you live in Amsterdam?" "Yes, we do. It's good to meet another woman here. Sometimes it's just me and some of these trannies can be crashing bores. Present company excepted, of course." They all laughed. "So you figured out Wendy's not a real woman?" said Jen. Wendy scowled, then smiled. "It took me a few looks, I must say. I had to ask Sasha to be sure, didn't I darling? Wendy dear, you look beautiful. And you too Jen." Thanks were offered and more compliments were exchanged. Then Sasha was sent to the bar to get more drinks. Christina leaned over as if to confide in her new friends. "You make a lovely couple my dears. How old are you, if you don't mind my asking?" Wendy spoke to her for the first time. "I'm 24 and Jen is 23." "Really?" asked Christina. "You look younger. Almost like a couple of teenagers. Have you been married long?" The conversation continued as Sasha teetered over with the drinks and rejoined them. He didn't say much neither did Wendy but Christina and Jen got on like a house on fire. This was the first time Jen had talked to the partner of a tv, apart from a brief telephone helpline chat. She didn't have a problem with Peter's female side, but it was good to talk about the peculiar problems being married to a transvestite can bring. Christina revealed she wasn't married to Sasha, but said they had been together for four years. Her first husband, she added, was a transvestite. When he died, she decided to find another. "I much prefer their company to that of men," she said. "And I'm very bi ... how about you Jen?" Wendy glanced briefly at his wife, but kept quiet. "Er, I think so. I mean I've never ... at least..." "It's okay Jen," grinned Christina. "I get the picture." They had so much in common. No kids, practically no surviving family and the need ... for a bit of glamour in their lives. Christina asked what they did for a living. " work as a secretary," said Jen. "It's a crap job, but I dropped out of college, needed the work and... well. Pe... eh, Wendy was a student too but left to get work in a call centre. He wanted to be a writer." "Still do," said Wendy. "But I need the money at the centre. Trouble is, the hours are so shitty I don't have time to write." "You should move to Amsterdam," said Christina. "You could dress like this all the time and find plenty to write about..." She revealed she worked in the property line - 'a kind of landlady', she laughed. Sasha was in entertainment, but Wendy and Jen missed exactly what kind of entertainment he was in. The drinks were starting to take hold and it was getting very hot and loud in the bar. They had been there for three hours now ... and it was getting late. An invitation to Christina and Sasha's home had to be declined, but the two couples cheerfully arranged to meet in the bar the following night. Half an hour later, Wendy was on the street in his male clothing, still too nervous to walk the streets in his beautiful dress and still blushing after getting a kiss from both Christina and Sasha. Jen was laughing. "You looked like you'd faint when Sasha kissed you," she smirked. "I thought you liked trannies?" "I was just ... ah..." They had talked once or twice about their bi tendencies. Technically, their marriage was an open one - they loved each other very much but understood the need to occasionally find something, someone, different. But their fantasies remained unexplored. "Oh stop, I'm just teasing," said Jen. "I think Sasha liked you though." "Oh yeah? I think Christina liked you?" "Mmmm? Well, who could resist me? Now take me back to the hotel and fuck me darling... once you've changed back into Wendy, that is..." CHAPTER 2 They spent the next day touring Amsterdam, Peter dressed in a more sober jeans, t-shirt and black leather jacket, rather than his glitzy frock. In mid afternoon, they stopped at a coffee shop, bought some grass and became pleasantly stoned. The conversation drifted to the events of the previous night. "They were really nice," said Jen, flicking ash, "It will be nice to see them again." "Yeah," said Peter, his eyes looking more than a little wrecked. "They were a good laugh. Sasha didn't say much though." "Neither did you dear. How... how do you feel about going back to their place tonight. I mean they will probably invite us..." "How do you feel?" Jen raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Okay, I guess. I've always had a fantasy about an older woman sweeping me into her arms." "Do you think... I mean, are you sure that's what they are looking for." "Pretty sure..." "Are you sure that's what we're looking for? I mean, I know we've talked but.." "Darling, if it's okay with you, it's okay with me. I mean we should set ground rules. First hint of jealousy on either side and it's all over. Only safe sex. And I'd be happier if you were in the room with me when we ... if we... did anything." "Me too," replied Peter. "You okay lover?" asked Jen. "I mean really okay? This isn't just the dope talking, is it?" "I"m fine. Nervous, but fine." They left the coffee shop and wandered along a canal, into the red light zone. Scantily dressed, brightly painted women stood in small windows, some looking bored, some looking over eager. One large woman, black and dressed in white bra, panties and stockings, came out of her doorway and grabbed a shocked Peter by the arm. "Big boy, you come with me, bring her too." Peter struggled free and muttered, "No thanks." as Jen laughed loudly and said to the woman: "Maybe another time." They crossed a bridge, moving towards Chinatown. This area looked seedier somehow. The red lights were bunched more closely together. And Peter knew not all of the girls were really girls. "Do you think any of them are 'trannies'?" he asked Jen. "Her back there ... definitely a bloke," she answered. "I could see the bulge in his knickers. Nice tits though." "Where?" "Don't stare darling. You'd look lovely with tits like that," she whispered. "I wouldn't be able to leave you alone." "I think they might have a problem with that at work," laughed Peter. They turned right and walked on. Fewer hookers here ... but more and more seemed to be transsexual. In one window, a floor up, Peter caught a glimpse of coffee coloured skin, long curly dark hair, a red satin basque and black stockings and panties. Just a glimpse ... the figure disappeared behind a curtain ... but it looked remarkably like Sasha. Nah, he was just too stoned. Time to go back to the hotel. That night, they spent too much of their limited budget on an Indonesian meal, then strolled to the trannie bar. It was 9.30pm and Christina and Sasha were there waiting for them. More kisses all round. Christina was in black again ... but this time in rubber. It was a remarkable dress short sleeved with a tight, tight skirt which stopped just above the knee and fastened at the top by a collar. A section was cut away, revealing Christina's cleavage, which, if anything, looked even more spectacular than the night before. She wore different boots tonight, which stopped just below her knee - rubber of pvc, with shiny buckles and straps. The dress revealed a tantalising few inches of Christina's legs, encased in tan stockings which seemed to glitter. Sasha, tonight, wore delicate sky blue chinese dress, with a yellow and green pattern and a side split, which showed off her white stockings. She wore matching silk blue shoes with a just slight heel. They fastened at her ankle. She wore a blue flower in her hair. Her make up matched too - bright blue eye shadow, delicately powdered and rouged cheeks and just a hint of lip gloss: pink. "Wendy, you look so much better as a woman ... no offence," said Christina grinning. "Why don't you let Sasha help you change?" The two transvestites disappeared into the changing room, while Christina ordered drinks. A rather plump and unconvincing trannie had offered to work as waitress tonight. The two women discussed their outfits - Jen, in a short black dress and tights confessed she loved the look of rubber. Christina told her she would look spectacular in it. The changing room was small and busy, with trannies crowding before one mirrored wall, fixing their make up, stockings and dressed. Peter slipped off his trousers and shirt revealing a black lace trimmed bra, black French knickers and barely black hold up stockings. His legs and body were completely smooth and hair-free. "Lovely," whispered Sasha as Peter ... no Wendy ... pulled the rest of his clothing out the brown sports bag he carried with him. In no time at all, he was dressed - a wonderful deep blue layered satin skirt, which stopped a few inches above his knees. Each layer was fluffed out by delicate black lace and the skirt was topped with a built in black waist cincher, which gave his already slight figure a much more feminine look. Sasha held out Wendy's breast forms - expensive, silicon and just the right size. Not too big, not too little. The Dutch trannie popped them in place in Wendy's bra. Then came a light black top, which fastened at the neck and tucked into the waist cincher. The blonde wig came next - the same one as the night before. The outfit was completed by black court shoes with a three inch heel, an imitation pearl necklace and a matching bracelet. Sasha helped with the make up - quite like her own, in fact, with blue eye shadow, but with deep red lipstick. Matching long red fake fingernails were the finishing touch. Sasha led the way out. As he prepared to walk through the door, one of the other trannies, an older one in her 50s, touched Wendy on her arm. As Wendy turned, she could see the trannie shake her head then mouth something .. was it "don't oh ... don't go ..." She must have been drunk. Sasha turned and grabbed Wendy's hand then led her on. The two new girls sauntered back to the bar to find their partners deep in conversation, one drink finished and started on the next. The wine flowed and so did the conversation. But the bar was noisy tonight and Christina as obviously annoyed. "God they're so loud and obvious in here," she fumed. "Look at them, stuck in a 60s timewarp in 60s fashions most of them. I'm so glad we met you two here, otherwise this week would have been a dead loss." "Yeah me too," smiled Jen. "It's been so nice to meet a couple like you." Christina thought for a moment. "Look, why don't we all head back to my place. The drinks are cheaper and it's not full of badly made-up and badly dressed idiots. You can try on one of my rubber dresses if you like Jen? What do you say?" Jen looked at Wendy. Wendy nodded her head and said: "I'll just go and change." "No need," said Christina. "You look utterly convincing and it's only a 10 minute walk... if you can manage in your heels. Go on, be a devil." Jen nudged her husband, who looked a bit doubtful. "Go on, you'll love the feel of the wind on your stockinged legs. No one will know..." Within minutes, they left the bar. CHAPTER 3 Christina and Sasha lived right on the edge of the red light district, in a very elegant block. Jen and Christina had walked in front, arm in arm, chatting while Wendy struggled a bit to walk in his high heels and fell behind. Sasha waited for him. The apartment had a communal entrance - and was right at the top of a typical Amsterdam town house. The five flights of stairs exhausted poor Wendy, who nearly fell four times. Inside, the apartment was modern and comfortable, with a huge soft leather settee, rugs, hangings, a couple of wooden chairs and scatter cushions in the living area. Sasha fixed drinks while the others settled on the settee, with Jen in the middle. Sasha finally sat down on the edge, next to Wendy. Small talk ensued and Jen and Wendy exchanged nervous glances a few times. Finally, Christina made her move. "Jen darling, I must let you try out that dress I told you about. It's far too small for me really, you'd look wonderful in it. Come with me." She led her by the hand out of the room and into the hallway. Wendy could hear their voices disappear into the distance ... then felt Sasha's hand on his knee. "I thought they'd never go." His voice was soft, feminine, not like a man's at all. Wendy was shaking. "Never done this before Wendy? Don't worry, I'll be gentle." Sasha kissed him fully on the lips. Wendy could taste his lip gloss as he felt a tongue meander around his mouth and down her throat. His own tongue stayed put. He felt so passive. Sasha stroked Wendy's stockings, his hand moving slowly up the thigh as the kiss continued. A scent of deep musk almost enveloped Wendy as he nestled back on the settee and let Sasha do his thing. Hesitantly, he put his arm around the tv's waist. The kiss broke. "Mmmm, you kiss divinely," said Sasha, flicking his hair. "Did you like that?" "Yes," Wendy admitted. "Yes, it was lovely..." The kissing continued, Sasha slowly moving his leg over Wendy's - the sensation of silk stocking against silk stocking left Wendy feeling weak. He pushed Sasha back slightly. "What about the girls? They'll be back soon." Smiling again, Sasha answered: "Oh I don't think so. Not if I know Mistress Christina." "Mistress?" "Er, yes, she's my mistress. Didn't you guess? Oh, you are such a virgin girl, you've a lot to learn. Come here." Wendy was lost for words again as Sasha kissed him, moving his hand further up his thigh and finally under his blue satin skirt. "Oh you bad girl," said Sasha, now stroking Wendy's cock through her satin French knickers. "You are excited." It was true. Wendy had been a passive partner in this encounter so far, but the wine and the cannabis made him bolder. He ran his pretty painted nails down the back of Sasha's neck and down the front of that Chinese silk dress. His hand cupped Sasha's breast. Christ, those breast forms must be expensive, they felt so real. Nipples and everything. "You like my tits darling," breathed Sasha, still stroking through the panties. "Wonderful," answered Wendy. "Just wonderful. Where did you get them?" "Let me show you..." Sasha stood up and unbuttoned the dress, letting it slip down to the ground around her heels and exposing two beautiful breasts, caged in a white Wonderbra. "Oh my God," said Wendy. "Are those real?" "Mistress insisted. Only the best... touch them." Wendy reached out, trying to avert her eyes from the large bulge in Sasha's white thong panties. "I can't believe this," he said. "I had no idea." His hands now cupped Sasha's tits - much bigger than his wife's. "They're gorgeous. But, what about your work? Do you live as a woman?" "Wendy honey, I am a woman. To all intents and purposes. Let me show you..." Sasha knelt at her feet and slowly moved Wendy's legs apart, then flicked up the satin skirt. She slid the French knickers off and grinned as Wendy's five inch manhood stood to attention. The shemale blew Wendy a kiss, then gorged herself on cock. Moaning, her blonde wig getting dishevelled against the back of the settee, Wendy thought he was going to come immediately. But stopped himself. "Oh that's lovely," he said. "But I'm worried Jen will come back and ... shouldn't we go to a bedroom or something? Can't we..." Sasha held a finger to Wendy's lips to shush him and kept on sucking. Wendy could take it no more .... and exploded. A satisfied look on her face, Sasha licked her lips, swallowing the lot. "My turn lover." She pulled Wendy off the settee and onto the floor, slipped off her white panties and pressed her cock against the tv's lips. Wendy licked. Sasha took her blonde haired head in her hands and pulled her towards the cock. Wendy licked harder - then took the whole six inches in her mouth. It was the first time he had sucked cock ... and it showed. Wendy gagged three times, before Sasha stopped him, kissed him on the mouth and said: "You'll learn girlfriend. It takes time." Now the stunning she male had produced something from her handbag. A small sachet of ... lubricant? Wendy hadn't bargained for that. "I'm not really ready," she bleated. "Maybe next time Sasha, but..." "Don't worry darling. I'll be gentle." Sasha laughed. "No I mean it. I'd love to have you, to be the first. Then you can do me...?" "Sorry. I'm really sorry, but I'm really not ready for this..." The door opened. "Not ready for what Wendy love?" Christina, still in the black rubber number, walked towards the dishevelled trannies on the floor. "Well? Isn't my little Sasha good enough for you? Look at her she's beautiful. Have you felt her titties? Delicious. You would suit a pair just like those Wendy dear. Maybe slightly bigger." Wendy felt very uneasy. "Where's Jen?" "Getting changed. My, but your wife is frisky when she wants to be. Wonderful fun. Anyway, what's the problem my loves?" "Wendy doesn't think she's ready to lose her virginity mistress." Mistress again. Wendy started to wonder if this whole thing wasn't getting a bit out of hand. Christina sat on the settee and motioned Wendy to sit beside her. Sasha joined them, leaving the tv trapped in the middle. Christina began to stroke Wendy's legs as Sasha put her arm around his waist. The 'mistress' spoke softly. "Wendy darling, we're all having such a lovely time tonight aren't we. Has Sasha pleasured you? Yes? And did it feel good?" Wendy nodded. Christina moved a hand upwards to stroke his blonde locks. "Yes, she's a wonderful lover. I trained her well. I like training new girls. And you look so pretty. You like looking pretty don't you? Jen told me all about it. We had such a lovely chat. She told me you like being submissive ... and that she likes being submissive too." Wendy was captivated by Christina's big blue eyes. "It's only fair Sasha has her fun too, don't you think? Still don't worry. Just relax baby, there's no need to fret." "Look, I really think I should talk to Jen..." "She'll be along soon. I think you should just relax and go with the flow. Trust me, you'll love it. I mean really love it. It's just what a girl like you needs. And you are a girl, aren't you Wendy?" No answer. "You always wanted to be a girl, wanted to wear beautiful dresses, wanted to put on lovely bras and silk panties and stockings and... "Yes, but..." "No but tonight Wendy. Do you trust me?" "I ... er..." "Do you trust me?" ".... yes...." Christina signaled to Sasha with her eyes. Wendy was now feeling very woozy. "Then just relax and do everything I say. You want to please me, don't you darling?" "Yes..." "Yes mistress?" "Yes mistress." "Thank you. Sasha?" The transsexual now held Wendy's hands from behind and quickly cuffed them. "What's going on?" "Just a precaution darling. Now, face down on the settee and let Sasha have her fun. And darling .... you'll love it too..." Christina helped to hold Wendy down, muffling his cries for help. Then she sat on his back, straddling him and stopping further struggle. Wendy felt a cold, wet finger rummaging around in his arse. He tried to scream ... but with a face full of cushion, it did no good. He wriggled and writhed ... then went rigid when he felt the tip of Sasha's cock probe his bum. He felt so helpless. He felt so afraid, for himself and Jen. Where the fuck was she? Why were they doing this? What did.... oooooooooooooooooooh. Sasha slipped the full length inside and, slowly at first, began pumping. Christina made soothing sounds and when Wendy wriggled too much, reached round to slap his arse. The cock felt gigantic inside him and it hurt so much. At first. To his own disgust, Wendy discovered it felt good too. Very good. It was over in a few minutes. To Wendy, it felt like days. His wrists were sore, red raw from the cuffs. And his bum .... oh his poor bum. Sasha withdrew and despite the pain, Wendy felt empty inside. Christina dismounted and flipped him over. "Good girl. Are you sore?" Wendy wept, the tears making his mascara run down his cheeks. He didn't know where Jen was. He didn't want her to find him like this. He just wanted to go home. Now. "Drink this," ordered Christina, holding a glass of water to his lips. Wendy sipped. "All of it, you must be dry." When the glass was drained, a shaking Wendy looked up to see Christina standing over him, gloating and Sasha fixing her dress. "That was just the start Wendy girl," said Christina. "You've a long way to go and so has that beautiful wife of yours. I must say, you struggled a lot more than she did. She just fucking loved it, the slut. Anyway, welcome to the house of Mistress Christina .... now you are .... and..... slaves .... maids...... behave .... ... ... ... .." Wendy passed out. CHAPTER 4. Wendy was still cuffed when he finally came too. That was his first sensation - the ache of his arms and the feel of cold steel against his chafed wrists. He was lying on his side, arms behind his back, completely naked. His ankles were chained too, leather straps around them, with a short metal chain binding them. He could only move his legs a few inches apart. Something was in his mouth - a gag of some sort. It forced his jaw wide open and he found it hard to breathe. Worse followed when he tried, painfully, to sit up. A raging, incapacitating headache, like the mother of all hangovers. He decided to just lie there for a while and drifted back into unconsciousness. He awoke for a second time to find himself in the same position. Sorer if anything, but the headache had eased slightly. Slowly, he struggled onto his knees and through hazy eyes took a look at his surroundings. He was in a cage, constructed of gold painted metal. It was square, giving him just enough room to stand on his knees and to lie down with his legs tucked into a ball. The cage was in the corner of a large clinical-looking room, all in bright white with black and gold ... well furnishings was the wrong word. This looked like a cross between an operating room and a torture chamber. Wendy groaned as his headache took hold again. A small dribble of drool flowed out the side of his gagged mouth. There was nothing he could do to stop that. He blinked, tried to focus on the room again. The white walls seemed to be padded, the floor in a matching material - rubber? It certainly felt like it. Through the bars of his cage, he could see a long black padded table in the centre of the room and, next to it, two matching black dentists chairs covered in the same gold finishings. Against the wall was another table, smaller, with shiny gold instruments lying on top. A large black wardrobe stood beside it. There was a rack on the wall, filled with fierce looking whips, paddles and even stranger devices. Two more cages were next to his, both empty. There was a heavy black door on the wall to his left - on the opposite wall as a large black St Andrew's cross, big enough to take a man, with straps and cuffs attached to secure the victim. Near it, stood two padded stools and ... was that a set of stock? Wendy was now petrified. Where was Jen? What had this woman done to her? And what was she going to do to him? He had a long wait for answers to come. Wendy made himself as comfortable as he could be in the cage. At least the room was semi-warm. He tried shouting, but his gag - he could just make out some kind of red ball protruding from his mouth - stifled all his cries. It must have been an hour before the black door opened. Wendy's body went rigid with fear. But he would have gasped, if he had been able, when he saw the figure before him. It was a maid. A maid covered completely in black shiny rubber. The dress was short and tight, hugging the maid's thighs. It had a moulded bodice, cupping two huge breasts and had a heavy collar at the throat, buckled tightly. Two white rubber frills stood out on the shoulders. The sleeves were long, ending with similar frills at the wrists and the maids hands were encased in black rubber mittens. Her - his? - shapely legs were covered in rubber stockings, sealed into small black rubber boots, with a ferocious heel. Seven inches, Wendy estimated, leaving the maid balancing on tiptoe. The servant wore a white rubber frilled apron, tied tightly at the back, accentuating an already slim waist. A mop of blonde hair was topped by a matching cap. Wendy stared at the maid's face. Beautifully made up, pale, that blue eyeshadow, bright red lips and a lot of kohl around the eyes. Heavy mascara surrounded eyes that looked almost ... dead. She carried a tray, with a bowl of some porridge-like slop in it. She bent over, very femininely, and opened a tiny door at the foot of Wendy's cage and shoved the bowl through. The food smelt disgusting. Wendy tried to talk, but his moans were ignored. The maid turned and minced out of the room, closing the door behind. Wendy was starving. But, foul as the gruel was, he had no way to eat, with a ball gag in his throat. The smell overwhelmed him. Five minutes later, the door opened again. This time, a burly man came into the room. He looked immense, a huge bulky hairy naked stomach protruding above leather trousers, which were tucked into boots. He wore some kind of leather and chains on his torso - and a black leather hood, studded and covered with zips. He stood before the cage. "Here girl, let me ungag you." His voice sounded gruff, like a wrestler on too many steroids. Wendy moaned again and put his head to the bars of the cage. The bulky man reached his hands through and untied the gag at the back. Wendy spluttered, choked, then tried to say: "ttth thhhank ...yyy." "Shut up," ordered the man. "You have no permission to speak. If you do so, you will be punished." "Punished!" shouted Wendy. "Punished? What the fuck do you think this is." "Oh this isn't punishment," the brute sounded as if he was leering. "This is preparation. Trust me, slut, this is nothing." "Who the fuck...." "QUIET!" Wendy, cowed and still groggy, obeyed. The man had the upper hand and there seemed little he could do until he was free from the cage. The thug continued. "Now eat your food, it could be the last you get for some time. A maid will come and take away the bowl. No funny business, no shouting ... and if you behave you will get your explanation soon. Now eat." He left the room. Wendy waited 10 minutes before putting her face into the bowl and hungrily finishing the lot. God, how long had he been in this cage? He was so starving it could have been days. He lay on his side and wept again, thinking of Jen, thinking of the mess they were in and trying to think what he could do. The maid - the same one? It was so hard to tell - returned in half an hour and opened the small door to remove the bowl. Wendy spoke to her quietly. "Look can you help me? I need to know where my wife is, I'm terribly frightened for her. Please...." The maid looked away and left the room with the bowl on her tray. Another hour passed. At least the man hadn't returned to replace his gag. Then the door opened - and two maids scurried through and stood side by side before Wendy. These two were dressed differently, in long black Victorian style uniforms. The rubber skirts were voluminous - Wendy could see a hint of rubber petticoats peeping through near the ankles. He could see the tips of shoes, like ballet dancers wore, but with awful heels. Huge breasts, which looked like they had been simply coated in rubber, were accentuated by tiny, tiny waists. These dresses had white rubber trimmings like the other maids, and a full white rubber apron. But these maids were masked. It took Wendy a few seconds, but he finally realised that the pale and painted faces were rubber masks, very natural looking. He couldn't see where the eyes and mouths joined. The expressions were startled, wide eyes like rubber dolls. They didn't speak. The door had been left open. Another figure came through - Christina. "Christina," blubbered Wendy. "Where's Jen, what have you done with her." The mistress was again in black rubber, this time a long figure- hugging dress, which came right down to her ankles. It was sleeveless and Christina's arms disappeared into long black rubber gloves. She smiled at Wendy. A cold, cold smile. "Don't worry Wendy dear. She's right here." Christina snapped her fingers and another figure came through the door. Another maid encased in rubber. A short dress, like the first maids, but tan stockings instead of rubber ones and high heeled ankle boots, fastened together with a tiny chain and padlocked in the rear. She too wore black rubber mittens. The ankle chains forced her to take very small steps as she hobbled towards her mistress and curtsied. The long red hair below the rubber maids cap gave it away even before she turned to face Wendy. "Oh my God, Jen, what have they done to you." Christina smiled again. "Only what she wanted, didn't we Jennifer darling. Now kiss your mistress." Jen smiled, curtsied again, then fell into Christina's arms for a long, lingering kiss. Wendy let out a low, soft moan. And began to cry. CHAPTER 5 Tears still running down his cheeks, Wendy's anguish turned to rage. "What have you done to her, you fucking bastard? That's not my Jen." Christina broke off from her kiss with the rubber maid. "Afraid so, Wendy love. And she's all mine now." Wendy thrust his face against the gold cage and roared. Jen looked startled. Christina looked bored. She stared at Wendy and said: "SILENT SLUT, DOCILE SLUT." Wendy stopped shouting immediately. Completely against his will. Without knowing why, he assumed a kneeling position in the cage. "That's better," said Christina. "That's how a good girl sits. A submissive docile little slut." Wendy felt more trapped than ever before. Now his own body was rebelling against him. He willed himself to move, to speak. His will wasn't strong enough. "You look puzzled Wendy. Don't worry, my pet, all will be explained in good time. Now Jennifer is a busy girl today, aren't you Jennifer. Give your mistress a kiss and get on with your duties." Wendy's wife kissed Christina lovingly on the lips, curtsied and left the room. Her husband remained on his knees, hands locked tight behind his back, completely immobilised. Christina spoke to one of the Victorian rubber maids. "Open her cage Lucy." A small key was produced, put in the padlock and the gold door opened. Wendy wanted to rush out and hit Christina. Instead, he sat there, waiting for his orders. "Come out Wendy love. Come out and play." He shuffled out the cage and knelt at the feet of his mistress, feeling more naked and vulnerable than at any time in his life. "Look at me," ordered Christina. Wendy obeyed. The mistress continued: "You are now mine to do with as I please Wendy. You have no will left. Your only desire is to please me. Oh, there may be a nagging voice in the back of your head for a while, telling you to resist your fate, but trust me, that will fade in time. Girls, help her on the table and strap her down." The rubber maids lifted Wendy to his feet and brought him to the black rubber table - an operating table, it seemed - and lifted him onto it. The handcuffs were removed. Instead of grabbing the bitch Christina by her throat, Wendy placed his hands meekly in front of him, as the maids laid him down on the table and strapped him tightly to it. "Much better," said Christina. "Now ... PETER PAN." Wendy felt himself regain control of his body. Not that it did him much good, strapped to a table and at the mercy of Christina and her accomplices. "You fucking bitch. You fucking bloody bitch, what have you done? Have you drugged me? Is that it?" "My, what a rant. Would you like to be quiet and let me tell you what's happening or would you like me to shut you up again?" "Let me go you fucking cow and bring Jen back or I'll..." "SILENT SLUT." Wendy still had control of her body, such as it was. But he couldn't speak again. Christina continued, "I see you are going to be a bit of a problem. If you keep that up, we can have you silenced for good. Physically next time, not just a mental block. Anyway darling .... while you were out, you were conditioned to obey me in all ways. Reprogrammed, as it were. A combination of drugs to sap the will and hypnosis. It's quite a talent of mine, as these maids will attest. And your pretty wife Jennifer too..." Wendy stared, his eyes bulging, threatening. He struggled against his bonds. "That will do no good at all Wendy. Even if you did escape, Karl is outside - you met him earlier. The nice man with the hairy chest and leather outfit? Anyway," she ran a black rubber gloved finger down Wendy's cheek. "My work is quite tried and tested. You have no hope. When I activate your key words, there's nothing you can do but obey. You have already heard some of the words ... docile, silent, there are others. Combined with the word slut, I can make you do anything, do you understand? The reversal phrase is Peter ... ah but you know that one already don't you darling? That was Jennifer's suggestion in a way. She told me she gave you the name Wendy from an old Disney film. Such a laugh..." There was a knock on the door. Another maid entered, curtsied and announced: "Doctor Everett to see you Mistress." "Ah come in Rebecca, so nice to see you. This is your latest patient. Don't worry, she's quite subdued. Aren't you ... DOCILE SLUT." Wendy lost control of his body again. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a bulky, squat woman in a white lab coat. She spoke with a clipped English accent. "Hello Christina dear." They kissed on the cheeks. "My, she's a lovely one. We'll have fun with her." The doctor began to poke and prod the bound Wendy. "I was just explaining her fate to her," said Christina. "You're a bit early." The doctor grunted. Christina bent over the trapped tv and went on: "Wendy darling, you and Jennifer were just what I was looking for. I had been trawling around that dreary little trannie club for months looking for fresh blood for my stable. But someone seemed to have tipped them the wink. Still, it was only particularly ugly ones left there." She laughed. "You see, my husband left me rather a lot of money, enough to buy this property. This is the basement, you've already seen the lovely top flat for guests and I live on the floors in between ... but my property extends right along the street, in both directions. You wouldn't believe how much it costs to maintain. And with my expensive tastes? Well something had to be done. "I told you my husband was a transvestite? He was rather well known in Holland, though his special tastes were very secret. He liked to be forcibly dressed as a teenage girl and spanked. When we met, I was a working girl, oh I'm not ashamed to tell you that and he paid me for my time. We got on rather well. He came back a lot and eventually we were married. Of course, the pictures and the blackmail threat helped, but... Anyway, before long he retired - he was getting on a bit - and cheerfully handed all his money over to me. I'd always had a hypnotic effect on men, and women too, and with a bit of training developed the skill. I met the doctor here at a dyke club and we got on like a house on fire. She suggested certain drugs to enhance the hypnosis and we experimented on my husband. "It seemed like a good idea for Dr Everett to broaden her training and specialise in transsexualism. She was already an accomplished consultant surgeon. By this time, my dear husband was of little use to me so... he was 'retired' from male life as well. I do miss her sometimes, she died three years ago. Exhaustion, I should think, eh doctor? "Things took off. All our servants and workers were already trannies or submissives. Part of them, at least, wanted to be controlled. If not, I couldn't have worked my magic on them. That's why you and your lovely wife were such a find. Both bi, if inexperienced, both submissive, even if you didn't realise it. And no strong ties back home. And Wendy darling? You will make a gorgeous woman. Anyway, back to the house. All those red light girls you passed in the windows just along the street ... work for me. On the left, between them and my home, is a special brothel for transsexuals ... like Sasha, you remember her darling? It's a very exclusive, very expensive club ... and very busy most nights. On the right, I have another exclusive club, for lesbians. Particularly lesbians who enjoy a bit of S and M. These maids here," she looked at the two Victorian maids by her side Lucy and Deborah, are real girls and when they are not looking after their mistress, they are looking after my special guests. "Your lovely wife will be joining them soon, when I've tired of her a bit and the doctor here has made a few ... adjustments. Jennifer is going to make a delicious rubber maid." Wendy was horrified ... and all he could do was smile like a fool at his new mistress. "You will be put to work in the brothel, or maybe in one of the windows first to get yourself some experience. On your days off and I am not too cruel a mistress, am I girls? - you will serve me in the house. You may even get to see Jennifer, if you still recognise her. I'm not sure she will recognise you... isn't that right doctor?" The doctor grunted. Christina spoke again. "I think you'll just love it here. No more worries about money. No more worries about your job. Oh! I've taken care of that by the way. You have already signed a letter of resignation to your boss. Jennifer has done the same to hers. And my servants will arrange for the sale of your house in Scotland and all its contents. You won't be needing them again darling. Any money made will go towards the cost of your surgery." Surgery? Wendy's body lay prone and limp .. her mind was a whirlpool. "You'll just love your new body. I'll programme you to make sure you do. Now, it's time for little Wendy to get some rest. And when you wake up fully again, you won't even recognise yourself my love. "Now DEEP SLEEP SLUT...." And Wendy faded out. TO BE CONTINUED