The Dave to Jane Chronicle Part 4
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The Dave-to-Jane Chronicle - Part 2 free porn video
I wrote the first two parts of this chronicle to make sure
I never forgot these wonderful events in my life, not
knowing they were to be part of a complete change in my
life. They were, however, originally written for my eyes
only and certainly not intended for publication. My
apologies for this being heavy reading. I was instructed to
write the remaining three parts by my Lover and Mistress.
Together they record my full transformation. Constructive
communications may be sent to either Vanya or Jane at
[email protected] - I'll leave the reader to take
out the 'removethis' portion.
The Dave-to-Jane chronicle - Part 2 of 5
By Jane
Copyright reserved.
You pass me your black lace waspie and I put it on as I am
told, enjoying its gently squeeze after the vice-like grip
of the rubber corset. The red satin panties are soon about
my hips again and I sit on the edge of the bed to pull on
the black nylon stockings you give to me, then stand to do
up the suspenders. I place my arms through the straps of
the sexy red satin bra you hold then feel you tug the back
into place and the clip done up. From my wardrobe you pass
me a loose jersey then a pair of slacks and when I finish
dressing as ordered, catch the socks you throw over.
You help me clear up the bits scattered about the bedroom
and bathroom, putting them back into the plastic bags and
storing them in my wardrobe. You slide your arms around my
waist and with a warm smile kiss me deeply and
passionately. I cannot help but respond and we kiss and
caress with me feeling your hands steal over my body,
touching my bra strap, suspenders and waspie, reminding me
of their presence. Breaking the kiss you take my hand and
lead me through the kitchen, collecting your jacket and
handbag, then open the door and pass me my keys. With
rising concern I lock the door and soon we are in the car,
reversing out of the drive.
"We're going to Rosebourne Mall, so get a move on," you
tell me and I dutifully pull out into the road, my mind in
a whirl of confusion, excitement and panic. As we leave the
suburbs you tell me "I'm so excited by what I've found out
about you, Dave, that we are going to do some shopping for
you right away."
The journey is, surprisingly, a delight of sexy chat and
laughter and I finally understand that you really are
excited by what you have found out about my hidden needs,
the occasional stroke of my penis inside the satin panties,
or a nipple through the bra reinforcing that knowledge.
Having parked, you grasp my hand and lead me into the mall,
our first stop being a specialist lingerie shop. Although I
hesitate slightly you tug my hand and we are soon inside.
Telling the sales assistant that we are just browsing, you
begin working your way along the racks, occasionally taking
out panties, bras, body-stockings and other garments, all
extremely feminine and sexy, and asking if I like them. I
feel quite embarrassed, not knowing who you intend to wear
them. One rack holds a huge range of waspies, basques and
corsets, in silks, satins and nylons in a gorgeous range of
colours and you select a back-lacing corset in deep-green
satin. Holding it against your body you ask if I like it
and, picturing your full breasts cradled in the black-lace
cups with your waist pulled in by the soft, but boned and
reinforced satin, whisper that I love it.
"Then let's try it on," you say walking over to the
curtained booths at the back of the shop, whilst holding up
the sexy garment for the assistant to see. She smiles back,
ignoring your call for me to get a move on.
You go into the booth and pull the curtain closed behind
you and I listen to the rustle as you undress. After a
couple of minutes you call me in and I see your back facing
me, your hands proffering the loops of lace for me to tie.
I do as instructed and pull the lacing until it is
comfortable then knot a bow. I draw in my breath as you
turn around and I see your voluptuous figure encased and
enhanced by the shimmering green satin, your full breasts
exposed but supported by the soft lace of the quarter-cups,
whilst the base of the corset is also sexily finished in
lavish lace. I tell you how beautiful you look and you
smile contentedly. You usher me out, telling me to go and
find the same design but in red satin, in the next larger
size.
Slightly embarrassed I make my way to the appropriate rack
and work my way through the sexy garments, my fingers
trembling at the exciting feel of the materials as I look
at label after label to find the size you want. You looked
so sensuous in the green corset and I am longing to see you
in the red version, which I finally find. I show the
assistant and return to the booth. When I tell you I have
found what you wanted you call me inside the curtain and,
when I do, am surprised to find you fully dressed again,
your old bra and waspie laying on the chair. I am more
surprised when you grasp the hem of my jersey and pull it
off me.
I whisper my protest as loudly as I dare, but your chuckle
of defiance is accompanied by a simple command of "Just do
as you're told, Darling."
Quivering with unease, combined with growing anticipation,
I watch you undo my belt and zip and let my slacks fall
around my ankles. Here I am being undressed inside a ladies
underwear shop, to expose my bra, panties, waspie and
stockings and the curtain doesn't reach the floor!
Ignoring my rising embarrassment, you casually unlace the
waspie, undo the suspenders then reach around me to unclip
my bra, kissing me wetly on the lips as you do so. After
briefly checking the size label, you pull the shiny red
satin around my body and do up the clips at the front. I
shuffle to turn around when you say and feel you tug on the
lacing at the back, which squeezes my whole body in a firm
but comfortable grip. Further tightening of the lacing
begins to constrict my waist, but not quite to the point of
discomfort, while I look down at the front of the corset
with the black lace of the quarter-cups tickling my erect
nipples and, beneath my flattened stomach, more sexy black
lace spills over the top of your red panties that I am
wearing.
With the back lacing firmly knotted I am turned around
again and suffer your critical inspection of my encased
torso. Without a word you pick up my jersey and back out
through the curtain, while I stand in confusion, not
knowing what to do and hoping no one comes in! A few
minutes later you step back inside with a purple satin bra,
matching panties and also another pair of panties in black
satin. You tell me to step out of my slacks and, when I
have, pull the red panties down my legs. As you instruct I
step into the black ones, shivering in delight as the soft
lace and satin is pulled up my thighs to tightly settle my
genitals in their elasticated gentle grip. Without a word
you thread the corset's suspenders beneath the black
panties and clip my stockings in place.
You turn to retrieve the purple bra and hold it up for me.
I slide my arms into the straps and you pull the satin
Lycra around my chest and clip the back into place. The fit
is perfect, apart from the empty padded and underwired
cups. After a brief inspection and adjustment of the
shoulder-straps you undo the clips and take it off me again
to drop it with the matching panties. You fiddle with the
bottom of my corset at the back, then at the back of my
black panties before holding up my jersey and telling me to
put it on. I try to speak but you order me to be quiet,
then tell me to put my slacks back on as well.
Once I am dressed you kiss me wetly again, your hands
outlining my waist before moving up my chest to find and
gently pinch my nipples. Pulling back you indicate my
reflection in the mirror and tell me to push out my chest.
When I do I see the slight swell of the corset's cups
beneath my jersey and quickly pull my chest back in, much
to your amusement. You gather up the purple bra and
panties, as well as your own bras and waspies and throw
back the curtain. In rising panic I am led by the hand
through the shop, which now has several women customers in
it, to the sales desk by the door.
You hand the new bra and panties to the pretty, young sales
lady then give her the price labels from the corsets and
panties, telling her that "we'll be wearing these, thank
you."
Her momentary surprise is followed by her critical eyes
scanning up my body; when they catch my eyes I see a gleam
of humorous understanding and a conspiratorial smile,
before I look away in abject embarrassment.
"That will be fine, Madam," she says to you, her smile now
fully formed, and begins wrapping our purchases and your
old clothes.
On your instruction to pay the lady, I reach into my pocket
to find my credit card and, moments later sign the slip
with trembling hands.
When I take the slip from the sales lady she smiles sweetly
at me, saying, "If there is anything else you'd like please
come back any time." Turning to you she says "And don't
forget, if there's anything you want but it's not in stock
or the wrong size, we do operate a make-to-order for any
garment in any size. We also consult on `special' corsetry
for figure-training, if you're interested."
Her emphasis on `special' is not lost on you and you ask
for more information and receive a thick brochure from
beneath the counter, which you place in your handbag. At
last we leave the shop but I do not feel any better, for
I'm sure that everyone can see the corset beneath my loose
jersey. You giggle happily when I tell you my fears but try
to reassure me that it doesn't show.
"Anyway, Darling, you've now bought your first lot of new,
pretty underwear in public: it wasn't so bad, was it?"
I don't have time to answer your rhetorical question, for
you immediately add, "That lady was so friendly and I'm
sure she wouldn't mind helping you in future, although I'd
really like to be there to choose nice undies for you."
You grasp my hand and lead me deeper into the mall to an
outdoor coffee shop and sit us out in the open, placing the
plastic shopping bag on the table between us.
"Do you like your new undies, Darling?" You ask me, adding,
"I think red suits you so well but I also want some black
goodies that will match the straps you'll be wearing with
them."
I hastily look round, worried that your words will carry to
other ears but no one seems to be looking at us.
"I also love that shade of purple on you and the bra seemed
to fit you so well. I hope you like them because I'm
longing to see you in them."
With some hesitation I quietly tell you that I love the
undies we have bought, but that it was extremely
embarrassing to have bought them that way, which you find
very amusing.
"It was meant to be a memorable shopping trip, Darling and
I think you will remember it for quite a long time. How is
your corset, by the way, not too comfortable I hope?"
I tell you that although it is much easier than the rubber
one, it is still tight enough for me to know it is there,
but at least it is bearable.
"That's why I made you suffer this morning: the rubber one
was far too tight to wear for very long but this one you'll
be dressed in for days at a time. I'm hoping it will slim
your waist quite quickly because there is no point in
having a transvestite slave-girl with a lousy figure."
I look round again at your blatant viewpoint, but still no
one is taking any notice.
"I hope your important bit is nice and comfortable in the
satin he likes so much," you add and I become acutely aware
of growing semi-erect but feel the tight yet soft grip of
the sexy panties containing the bulge. You giggle when I
tell you what is happening.
The coffee arrives and we quietly sip it, you telling me
that you are enjoying shopping far more than usual then,
remembering the brochure, pull it out of your bag and read
it in your lap where, unfortunately, I cannot see it.
Suddenly you look up with a smile and tell me to quickly
finish my coffee, draining your own cup in one swig.
Although I ask why, which you ignore, I do so and stand up
when you do. You pass me the shopping bag to carry then
grasp my other hand and lead the way back to the underwear
shop. Once inside I am thankful there are no other
customers as I watch you chat quietly with the same sales
lady, showing her the brochure. I cannot hear what you are
saying, but feel safer standing by the door.
She stares at my body, selects a box from under the counter
and walks round to join you.
"Come back to the fitting rooms, Darling," you call to me
and I hesitatingly follow.
Once inside, the lady closes the curtain and you order me
to take off my jersey. I go cold at the thought of exposing
my body, now in its new corset, to this stranger but you
brook no argument, grasping the hem and yanking it up. I
have no choice but to allow you to take it off me. The lady
ignores my reaction, acting as though this was an everyday
event, merely asking you to dress me in the purple bra.
In no time you have the straps over my arms and do up the
clips behind my back. The sales lady (her badge announces
her as Helen) stretches the front into position then opens
the box to take out a flesh-coloured dome of plastic which
she inserts into the left cup of my bra. I shiver at the
touch of the very soft, cool plastic while she then places
the second shape inside the other cup, especially when her
red-varnished nails scrape against my nipples. The trace of
a smile makes me wonder if she is not taking longer than
necessary to adjust the breast-forms.
"How does that seem?" she asks you.
You look at my new bustline from many angles, a fascinated
smile on your lips, as I also look down into my new
cleavage, the edges of the soft plastic blending with my
own skin to become almost invisible. Complimenting Helen on
their looks, you reach out to cup my shape, voicing your
surprise at how realistic they feel. After several strokes,
squeezes and prods you tell me to feel them as well and,
despite the embarrassment of being so dressed - or
undressed - in front of you both, I'm keen to do so. I am
staggered at the shape, feel and weight of the breast-forms
that make them so realistic, their fluid centre making them
jiggle and change shape with every movement I make.
"They can also be glued to the skin so that they can be
worn with a more revealing bra," Helen tells us. "You can
wear them with your corset or even bra-less," she adds to
me, an impish glint in her eyes and a slight smile, which
instantly reduces my embarrassment to a manageable level.
You ask Helen to remind us to take some glue before we go,
then ask her what she would advise in the way future
corsetry "to make his figure as feminine as possible"!
Helen treats the question normally, asking in reply, "Do
you want a temporary change of shape or do you really want
longer-term improvements that will be permanent?"
After a few moments deliberation, you slowly smile at me
then turn to Helen. "I want him to undergo a rigorous
figure-training course, because I'll be making him wear
dresses and skirts in public as soon as I can. Once we have
a decent wardrobe - including wigs, shoes and make-up -
I'll change `him' into `her' whenever I can! I want a
course of corsetry to make `he' into `she' as quickly as
possible, so what do you advise?"
Helen smiles back at you, conspiratorially, and replies,
"Joan is the owner of the shop and she is the one who
really runs the corsetry business. I think it would be best
if you made an appointment to discuss it in detail with
her, because she's really into figure-training. As a matter
of interest, she also makes her husband wear corsets so I'm
sure she will be very keen to help you. I'll give you her
number at the desk."
I am dumbfounded at your determination and domination, as
well as Helen's matter-of-fact dealing with the crazy
situation, which up until now, had only occurred in my mind
somewhere between nightmares and fantasies.
Amid general chitchat about underwear in general (most of
which I miss because my mind is in a whirl at what you
might have in store for me!) you unclip my bra while Helen
puts the breastforms back into the box and I put my jersey
back on.
In a daze I follow you back to the sales desk where the box
is put in another bag, some packets of stockings are added
and I blankly hand over my credit card again to pay for
these new additions. With a smirk at me you take Joan's
business card from Helen, thank her and lead the way out of
the shop.
My mood brightens a bit when you squeeze my hand, kiss me
on the cheek and whisper quietly so that only I can hear,
"Just wait till we get home, Darling. I'm going to dress
you up, tie you to the bed and ride you until we both go
wild. I'm feeling so randy I'd love to do it right now!"
I tell you that I feel so shaky after what you have just
put me through that I don't think I could rise to the
occasion, at which you chuckle, adding throatily. "Even if
you're dressed in your new purple bra and panties, with a
leather belt cinched around your waist and straps on your
wrists and ankles and I make you lick my clit until I come?
Even when I pull your bra to one side to suck your breasts
and nibble your nipples?"
I feel myself responding to your words and you giggle
knowingly. "You see, Darling? I'm in control of your mind
as well as your body. Now I understand your secrets I can
turn you on whenever, and where-ever, I like."
Suddenly I become aware of our surroundings, you have led
me into a big chain store and we stop at the make-up
counter. You look at, and try, many of the testers for
creams, powders, eye shadows and lipsticks. It is over half
an hour before you call the assistant to list your needs.
Only when I see the heap do I realise how much you have
ordered and am amazed at the price on the bill, which you
tell me to pay.
I start to protest but you kick my ankle and whisper in my
ear. "If you argue, I'll tell you loudly how I'm going to
use each cosmetic on you, and discuss with the girl which
colours suit you best."
With a triumphant smile you watch as I hand over my credit
card. Another bag is added to my load and our next stop is
the jewellery display where you select two pairs of
earrings and pay for them at the till.
"There you are, a little present from me for being such a
good girl," you smile sweetly at me, handing me the small
package.
I am not sure how to take your words but thank you anyway.
Moments later, at the perfume counter, you stop to smell a
fragrance and, murmuring how nice it is, manage to spray my
neck whilst getting me to sniff the bottle. As I ponder if
it was an accident, you blatantly reach up and spray the
other side of my neck. It smells wonderfully feminine.
Clutching the bags I follow you as you walk through the
store's ladies clothing section, where you spot a pretty
black waist-slip. It takes only moments to find the size
you want, then we move to skirts and blouses where you find
a see-through blouse similar to the one you are wearing
under your jacket and, while you search through the racks
of skirts, I realise you are getting more clothes for me! I
am horrified at the prospect when you lead me into the shoe
section in case you make me try anything on but, to my
relief, you take a pair of fluffy pink slippers with a
moderate heel and a pair of backless strappy high heels in
the largest size available. At the till I watch the slip,
skirt, blouse and shoes being rung up and meekly hand over
my card again.
With everything inside the large carrier bag in my hand,
you take the other one and we stroll out of the shop. "You
will look gorgeous in those clothes," you say quietly with
a smile and we continue out through the mall and into
another.
"Oh! Look," you squeeze my hand and point ahead. I follow
the direction and see a sex-shop with its black-painted
window. "Come on, I must have a look," you tell me and we
walk in to find, thankfully, that we are the only
customers.
Still holding hands we gaze at the titles of videos until
you see one called `Pleasure-Bound' which I see, as I read
it with you, has a heavy bondage theme.
"We'll buy this, it might give me a few ideas that I
haven't had already!" I'm told and we move over to the toys
where, without any trace of embarrassment you select a very
large strap-on dildo and inform me that, "This will come in
handy any time you can't manage a second go."
Again I have to pay, but at last we leave the shop and I
tell you that I think we've spent enough of my money for
one day. You laughingly agree but comment that I really did
need some clothes to wear for your pleasure then kiss me
sweetly before commenting on how expensive the stuff in the
sex shop was.
On our way back to the car I put my arm around your
shoulders and yours reaches around my waist and you snuggle
closer to me, saying, "That's nice - I can feel your tiny
waist and it's lovely. Let's go home and put you in your
new clothes. I'm longing to see how you look in them."
I drop my arm around your waist and compliment you also.
Back in the car, our purchases on the back seat, you wait
until I drive out of the car park then, opening your
jacket, turn towards me. I gaze at your beautiful breasts
visible through the black haze of your sexy blouse, the
green of your new corset shimmering through as well.
I tell you how seductive you look and, acknowledging with a
"thank you," turn further, hiking up your leather skirt
slightly so that the tops of your stockings draw my eyes.
When I ask you to stop teasing me you giggle, saying, "When
I've dressed you how I want to, you can get your own back.
But only if you're not strapped up too tight!"
Several time during the journey you stroke my body under my
jersey, sometimes letting your hand steal up to my nipples
to tease and squeeze, and stroking my thigh over my
suspender-clip to remind me of the stockings I'm wearing,
although the silky feel with each movement keeps me aware
of them. Frequent comments of how you will keep me in sexy,
feminine clothes and put me in bondage whenever you can,
keep me quite pent up, and you chuckle as your hand,
brushing over my lap, feels the swell caused by the mental
pictures you are creating. I am aware of your confidence
growing in your domination over me, sensing you knowing and
learning more of how much you can subject me to your whims
and desires, yet I cannot hide anything from you any
longer. I feel a slave, not only to you, but also to my own
needs and desires, which you now control so skilfully.
Back home, you lock the door behind us and, before I have
put down the shopping bags, throw your arms around my neck
and kiss me deeply and wetly, your tongue fighting wildly
with mine. I am amazed you are so turned on, and become
equally excited when your hands move down to pull my hips
hard against yours. When you break the kiss, your shining
eyes smile into mine.
"You cannot believe how exciting that shopping trip was for
me, Darling. I have been trying to understand it all the
way back: it's as if everybody around us could see I was
your Mistress and you were my slave. I know it's silly
because they couldn't know - except Helen - but it was just
exhilarating to know how I had forced you to dress so
differently beneath your outer clothes. I have often felt a
similar, but much less, thrill when I'm dressed in
stockings and revealing panties at work and nobody knows.
"Take the shopping through to the bedroom, then come back
and make us some tea, my mouth is quite dry," you order and
march off to the loo.
I take the bags through and drop them on the bed, resisting
the urge to peek in them at the things I haven't seen
properly. The kettle is on and the cups are ready when you
return.
"Did you really feel as embarrassed and exposed as you said
when Helen tried the breast forms on you?" you ask
impishly, sliding your arm about my waist.
Even as I think of my reply, I shiver at the memory. It is
all the answer you need and you laugh at my shame.
"You always seemed so cool and confident before, that
nothing I did could phase you, that I often felt out of my
depth beside you. Now I know the real, inner person that
you are, you better be warned that I'm going to take you
not only out of your depth, but into strange new waters.
Sometimes you'll come willingly, but I'm enjoying my
dominance so much that, at others, you will cling to me as
your only lifeline in the total unknown, like today. When I
was buying your make-up I was very kind by not trying it on
you. I was tempted to make you buy it yourself so try not
to make me angry, because you know how I bottle things up
and I might want to get revenge later! I can be quite
spiteful if I get upset," you inform me, and I hang onto
every word because they pour straight from your psyche and
give me some insight into why you are so turned on by
dominating me.
I quickly realise I cannot combat it, yet a hidden part of
me is excited out of all proportion at the prospect of what
my subservience to you might bring in the satisfaction of
all my bizarre fantasies.
My thoughts are broken by your fingers slipping under my
jersey to grasp my nipples, which you squeeze and roll,
knowing how much it excites me, saying, "Don't look so
worried, my Darling. I intend for my pretty, sexy slave-
girl to get plenty of satisfaction as well. Now finish the
tea, my mouth is feeling quite dry."
I do so and, holding hands in a state of total sharing, we
drink it in silence. As I finish rinsing the cups I feel an
increase in the tension in the air and turn to see you
remove your jacket.
"That feels more comfortable," you comment, enjoying the
way my eyes are drawn to your amazing body beneath the see-
through blouse. "Take off your jersey and slacks, Dave."
It is an order, not an invitation, even though your voice
is well modulated. With a rising anticipation of I know not
what, I pull the jersey over my head and drop it on the
stool. The tight corset, now exposed to your eyes, makes it
slightly difficult to bend down to remove my shoes and
socks so, when I have to lift my feet to my hands I see
your confident smile grow broader. I undo my slacks and
silkily slide my stockinged legs from the coarse cotton to
stand before you in just my new sexy undies which, somehow,
makes me feel more that naked.
From the shelf behind you I watch you bring two leather
cuffs into sight. "Hold out your arms, my Slave," I'm told
and watch as each wrist is padlocked inside. "I want you to
wear cuffs most of the time so you get used to them and
know I can put you into bondage at a moments notice
whenever I want to. I've also been giving some thought to
how we can spend more time together and when we were in
that sex-shop I think I found the ultimate idea. Being as
you are so clever at making all these straps and costumes
and, especially with my wicked mind dreaming up new things
to do with you, I think we will start our own company
making and selling special love-toys. It'll be great
because we will be testing all new products on you so we
will know what works. We can even tell our customers that
we will make anything special that they want - and if I
like the ideas I can also test them on you. I hope you like
the concept, but I'll think it through some more and
investigate the opportunities."
You giggle at the look of horror on my face, caused by your
easy concept of the future, then grasp my hand and add,
"Come into the bedroom, Darling. I must see how your new
clothes fit. And then I have some serious riding to do."
Latisha
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