How Did I Get Into This - Part 2 free porn video

This is the second part of the story of Diana Deans. Diana, kidnapped and transformed by a cruel transsexual professor, gets into trouble again. She also undergoes the final process in her transformation. If you haven't read the first part, this may not make much sense! Part 2 On the morning after my 'coming out' party, Trish visited me. She had brought with her a pile of women's magazines and a large red folder. Handing me the folder she announced, "Diana Deans, this is your life! "I have just finished preparing your dossier and now it is time for you to start memorizing it." The folder had to be two inches thick and contained the life history of someone I didn't know but was about to become. "You were born on August 1st 1980 - your real data of birth. Your parents were Doug and Leticia Deans." A photo showed a couple and their five-year-old child. I looked closer and realized that the girl was a younger version of me. "Tragically, both of your parents were killed in a car crash when you were 7 years old. Your father's heavy drinking caused the crash." A photocopy of a newspaper report showed a picture of an American car that had collided with a tree. (The report didn't mention a daughter). Another photo showed a grave. Trish continued to read, tapping the document with a pencil as she marked off the points. "You were brought up in the Municipal Orphanage in Boston. The names of the key staff members are included here. Your best friend was Madonna Munford." A photo showed a small girl with plats in her hair, wearing a gingham dress. "Obviously if you meet her, she won't remember you, but if you remember details of her past confidently, it's funny what tricks the mind can play." Trish read more facts from my life history. There was a huge amount of detail; there were photos of places in Boston I had grown up around, names with faces of people I should have known, school reports, and details of parties I had attended. There were more photos of me, getting progressively older, with clothes and hairstyles chosen to suit a girl growing up in the eighties and nineties. Trish explained that the photos had been prepared using software normally used to age a person in an old photograph to give an idea of what they look like today. Trish got up to leave. "Your work each morning is to study the folder. I will come in at noon each day to test your knowledge. Over the first few days, just try to memorize details, then we'll work on the details so you believe them. "Each afternoon you should look at the magazines. Read articles, and stories, study the fashions, try to decide what clothes and colors would suit you. Then each evening we'll discuss what you have learned." My education began. The morning work I found easy, perhaps due to my legal training, memorizing facts came naturally to me. However, I dreaded the afternoons. As a man, I had never been interested in fashion, buying a business suit a couple of times a year and when not working I normally wore jeans, a checked shirt and fleece purchased from a hiking center. Now I was a woman, I had to learn to consider the type of clothes, a dress, twin-set or separate skirt and blouse; the colors of clothes, should they match or contrast. Then I needed to consider the type and color of make-up needed for a particular occasion and whether appropriate for the outfit. Only when these questions were resolved could I consider practical issues such as keeping dry or warm. After several days of learning and testing the Professor visited. I had served my sentence for speaking out of turn and she would release me from the hood with its gag. She took a small key from her pocket, unlocked the padlock, unzipped the flap and finally untied the laces. I went into the bathroom; a thoroughly wretched lady looked back from the mirror. My short hair was greasy, my lips had remnants of lipstick most of which had been smeared across my face when I struggled against the hood and apart from around my eyes, my skin was going dry and spotty from the extended contact with the make up. I was only able to close my mouth with difficulty after having had it kept open by the gag for a week. I cleaned my face with makeup remover and turned on the shower so I could shampoo my hair. I sat at the dressing table, applied a light foundation, eyeliner and lip- gloss. Finally, I put on my wig and looking in the mirror once more saw a young, pretty woman smiling back. I received a final admonishment from the Professor. "It didn't take you long to get into trouble, just make sure that is the last time. You won't get off so lightly if I have to dish out a further punishment". One day, when I had successfully identified all my 5th grade teachers from their photographs, I asked Trish if I might ask a question about my training. "As I am just a guinea pig, why are you putting in all this effort to train me?" "To explain that you need to understand the services that TransLife Medical will be offering and the easiest way to explain is to tell you some of my history. "I told you that I found it more profitable to use my Computer Security PhD, to hack into corporate systems. Well, one day I was very careless, even stupid. I hacked into a system in Chicago, which belonged to the Mafia, not in itself a bad thing, but I was not using a secure line or any form of alias. The next thing I know is that there's a million dollar contract on my head and the bullets are flying. "The only person I could trust was an old school friend, now Martha. We discussed my situation and realized that I needed to disappear very thoroughly. Martha told me of her secret double life, cross-dressing when not in the genetics lab where she worked. She used her skills with clothes and make up, and Trish was born. "Martha had wanted to become a complete woman, but I have to tell you that she has a thing about operations. The sight of scalpels makes her heave! So, she had been developing the chemical / biological technique and I was the first to undergo the process. "The next step in my disappearance was somewhat gruesome. Martha's lab was part of a hospital complex and from there she obtained a suitable cadaver. We then did a little breaking and entering at my dentists, replacing my dental records and finally staged a fiery car crash. "The Mafia called off the search for me after the inquest and I was now a free woman. "We considered what we had done, and realized that there was a potential market for similar, very confidential services. Martha resigned from her job and with one other; we formed a partnership that eventually became TransLife Medical. Obviously, she developed the medical techniques while I look after the candidate history and finances of the company. "So you are not only a guinea pig for the medical side, but also in the placement and history. This is why I am making such a big effort on your behalf!" When I woke a few days later, I felt as if my head was going to explode. My stomach seemed to be going into spasm. I tried to get out of bed but I could not even sit up. I let myself fall back onto the pillow and pulled the duvet back over my head. Later, still feeling bad, I dragged myself out of bed and noticed bloodstains on the bedding. I called Professor Martha on the internal phone by my bed. When she arrived at my room, I indicated my problems. "Ah! I think I know what is wrong. The physical transformation is perfect in every respect, unfortunately, what we aspire to isn't perfect and we ladies have to take the rough with the smooth. I believe you are having your first period, but I'll check you over in the clinic. "I suggest you have a shower and tidy up. I will send Jenny to help and she will bring you to the clinic" Jenny found me slumped in the bottom of the shower. After washing my hair and cleaning me with a sponge, she helped me out of the shower. She wrote in the steam on the mirror. "The first one is always a bad one." She dried me with a big soft towel and helped me to get dressed. When she lifted the corset, I said. "Please, I can't face that today." She shook her head, pointed to her steel bridal and tattooed makeup to remind me of the rules, and then held the corset up once more for me to put on. Jenny applied my makeup, using a heavy foundation to mask the spots and then just light eye shadow and lipstick. She tried to make my short hair presentable, but it still looked like a military crew cut so I had to wear the wig. When we arrived at the clinic, Professor Martha was waiting for us. Jenny helped me out of my underwear and after assisting me onto the table; she held my hand. Professor Martha put my feet into stirrups at the foot of the table, leaving everything exposed for her inspection. She smiled as she snapped the latex gloves she was putting on her hands. Then she moved to a position between my legs. "I assume you are still a virgin? In which case I cannot do an extensive examination, but it should be sufficient to establish that everything is working correctly." She then took a large stainless steel speculum and inserted it into my vagina. The touch of cold metal made me shudder. The professor then operated the mechanism stretching the sensitive lips wide open. The unexpected pain made me scream. "Enough! I can't have all this noise when I'm trying to work!" The professor marched back to the head of the bed, pushed something into my mouth, and tightened a strap around the back of my head. My scream was stifled back to a soft moan and with my jaws pushed wide open; I remembered the tube gag in the hood. Returning to the foot of the table Professor Martha stooped to make her inspection. After a few minutes, she stood up and removed the speculum giving me instant relief. Jenny helped my off the table and removed the gag. When I was dressed, we joined Professor Martha at her desk. "Everything looks just as I would expect it to. Your period should be over in a few days and you will feel yourself once more. "Now I think this would be an appropriate time to give you some advice. When I asked if you were a virgin, I was only half joking. It is certainly possible for you to loose your virginity and although it has never happened, we believe that the method we used to produce your female organs is so effective that it entirely conceivable that you could, um, conceive and bare children. Please for your own sake always practice safe sex and don't rely on the man to provide it!" Back in my room, I slumped on the bed. The prescribed aspirin were having little effect on my headache and I now felt abused by the rough treatment on Professor Martha's table. I started to revise my opinion of the woman. What right did she have to behave like that? The more I thought the more I realized that she had a viscous streak a mile wide. I dozed and wept the entire day, not bothering to feed myself and finally I took my headache to sleep. In the morning, I still felt unwell but needed something to eat. Looking in the kitchen there were only the liquid foods that Jenny had brought whilst I was wearing the hood. I needed something more solid. I pulled on some underwear, applied my makeup and wig and then found some casual clothes - a white blouse and a navy blue A-line skirt, finishing off with the lowest heels in the wardrobe. For the first time I ventured out of the apartment on my own. In the corridor I was about to close my door when I realized I didn't have a key. Looking at the door, I realized that that wasn't a problem, as the door didn't have a keyhole. Instead, on the door frame there was a box with a little window. I covered the window with my thumb as Trish had done in the lift. There was a loud buzz as the lock opened. Relieved that I could get back in I closed the door firmly. I had thought of trying one of the doors of the other associates to see if they could tell me where they got their supplies. In the event, this was unnecessary as I saw Professor Martha coming from the direction of the clinic. "Where can I get..."? The question died on my lips as I noticed the professor's expression pass rapidly from a friendly face to a questioning look then through horror, finishing with plain hatred. "YOU ARE INCORRECTLY DRESSED!" She screamed at me. I looked down at myself and did up the top button on my blouse, as it seemed to be the only thing out of place. "Not that, you tiresome girl. Where is your corset?" "I didn't feel well enough to wear it." I stammered back. "You are now a woman, the rules say you should dress like a lady INCLUDING THE FOUNDATION GARMENTS." She continued to scream. "I thought you would have learned after your time with the hood. Get back into your room until I decide what to do with you." I ran back to my room barricading the door behind me and hoping that the professor would calm down before she inflicted physical violence on me. Later I heard the lock buzz followed by a rattle of the door against the chair. I stood prepare to defend myself. After a pause, a note slid under the door. "Please let me in quickly. You are really in the SH*T with the mistress. J." I opened the door and Jenny rushed in. She grabbed me in a big hug, tears in her eyes. I'm sure she would have kissed me if it weren't for the steel punishment bridal still welded around her head, which forced her jaws apart. She passed me a note she had prewritten. "I have never seen the mistress so angry. She has been storming around the building in a rage and finally marched Veronica off to the workshops. Why did you do it? At least she isn't blaming me this time! She says for you to stay in your room until she has decided what to do. However, I have to make sure you are properly dressed for when she comes." Reluctantly I undressed while Jenny pulled a corset from the wardrobe. She reached around from behind me and attached the busk clips at the front. I immediately realized this was different to the other corsets I had become used to wearing. I could feel it running from under my arms down to just above my knees. There was no mirror near me and Jenny already had a tight grip in the laces as she started to take out the slack in them. When I could only just breathe, she stopped lacing and wrote another note. "You need to put on your shoes before I go any further" She passed me a pair of ankle boots with 5" heels. I put my feet into them, pulled up the zips and fastened the buckles. Jenny then started passing a lace through eyelets in the front of the corset below my waist. I quickly realized that I wouldn't be able to bend at the waist or lift my feet very far off the ground when she was finished. With my legs effectively hobbled, she returned to the back and continued to tighten the main laces. My lungs would have been gasping for air if they could only move. Jenny stopped lacing again and moved in front of me. As she reached around my neck, I realized that the top of the corset reached up to my hairline. She pulled the extension to the corset around my neck and laced it but this time thankfully not tightly. Jenny passed me a final note before she left. It had the single ominous word on it. "Wait!" I was now rigid from my head to my knees, the curved steel bones in the corset putting my back and shoulders in to a position of "good posture". I tried to take a step and managed about 4 inches, but tottered so much I realized that if I fell, I would stay fallen, also that it would be when I fell, and not if! So I stood still, waited..., and waited. I couldn't see a clock and lost track of time. All I could do was concentrate on the parallel impossibilities of breathing and staying upright. My feet hurt from the high heels and taking my full weight on my toes and the balls of my feet. At last, I heard the buzz from the door lock and from the corner of my eye saw Trish enter the room. "God! Don't you ever learn? Martha is livid. She has sent me here to offer you an ultimatum. She says either you have to accept her punishment, or she'll throw you out on to the streets with no support from the clinic and no further medical procedures. In fact she is only offering the option of punishment because of the effort she has taken in preparing you to test the vocal procedures. She also thinks you may be able to help her professionally. You have until tomorrow to make up your mind, but until then I have to take you somewhere more appropriate for a disloyal associate!" She loosened the lacing at the front of the corset so I could walk, albeit with short steps and then I followed her from the room and to the lift. This time Trish placed her thumb over the window for the basement. In my fear, my mind started to work in a completely disconnected way. "I didn't think the buildings on the Damraak had basements because of the risk of flooding from the Amsterdam canals?" Her reply surprised me. "My dear, we aren't in Amsterdam any more. You were moved here whist under the first dose of sedatives." I was going to ask where 'Here' was, but the lift arrived at its destination. As we got out, movement sensors turned on a few lights in the dark corridor. A strong smell of animals and their droppings was in the air. At the third door, Trish stopped and used her thumb to unlock it. As we passed inside, I put my thumb over the window. There was no buzzing from the lock. In the room were rows of cages and I could hear rustlings as animals were woken by the unscheduled illumination of the room. Trish walked to the end of the row of cages and opened one. It was about 6 feet tall, less than 2 feet wide and a foot deep. The construction was of stout steel rods, welded at their ends and intersections. "Get inside" I hobbled in and turned around. Trish stooped to re-lace the front of the corset and then clanged the door shut. Without another word, she turned and left the room. Twenty sends later, the sensors turned out the lights, leaving only a crack of light below the door. A minute later that also extinguished. In the pitch dark, animals who had been disturbed from their slumber started to call and scream, sounding like the jungle sound effects of an old Tarzan movie. For the first time in my life I started to sympathize with the extremists in the anti-vivisection movement. In my cage I was getting into a bad way. I couldn't stand upright; my height in the ankle boots was greater than the cage allowed. I couldn't tilt my head over, the built in posture collar of the corset saw to that. All I could do was shuffle my feet into one corner and slouch diagonally across the cage, neither standing, nor leaning and very shortly all my joints began to scream. At least my arms were free and I could relieve my self slightly by hanging from the bars. However, there I could not do anything about my bladder and I sobbed as the fluids eventually ran down my leg. I settled down for what I knew would seem like the longest night of my life and again I was able to release my mind from my current situation and consider my position and my short and long-term future. The Professor was obviously a sadistic bitch. Why hadn't I realized that only such a person goes around performing sex changes on strangers? I must have been under the influence of tranquillizers of some kind to believe that she was some kind of philanthropist. I thought of the punishments that I knew of. For not wearing make-up, Jenny had been tattooed and for talking out of turn, welded into the bridle. For my part in the 'illegal' conversation, I had a hood with a built in gag locked over my head. I considered my 'crime' of not wearing a corset. Well, she couldn't tattoo a corset on to me and if she locked me into a corset it wouldn't be forever. I considered my current situation. With the exception of my short hair, the transformation had left me with a shapely body that would not only pass as female, but would positively turn heads. However I still had my male voice, which would also turn heads when associated with that same body. The biggest problem was that I had no identification. I knew that Trish had obtained a full set of documents for me, but I had to assume they would not come as part of my 'severance package' should I be expelled early. There was probably only one profession available to a good- looking girl with no legal status and that was the oldest one of all. Definitely not part of anyone's master plan.... Except maybe, it was part of the bitch's plan for me! Lastly I considered my longer-term future. Firstly, I had to accept that the bloody periods were going be part of my future regardless. I felt I could probably cope with being a female in the outside world (I was to find later that my detachment also caused optimism in abundance!). With my documents and qualifications I could resume my professional position. Suddenly, I felt an enormous feeling of freedom. I wouldn't resume anything! I could start a new life. I had no skeletons in my closet; I had no past except the fictional one Trish had created... Oh! And the other one that started when I entered this building, wherever it was. That past would have to go. And Mistress Bloody Professor Martha with it. I felt extremely calm. I had made my decision. A punishment was to come, but I would retake every suffering minute back from Martha. Noted in my professional life as a very patient lawyer, I had been willing to wait for a case to build up or for witness to keep talking long after he should have stopped for his own good. I would use that patience and whilst I would appear to be subservient, I would be watching, listening for information and start to build a case against Martha and her business interests. A case tried by me, the judge, me, the jury and me, the executioner! With my reduced perception of time, the positive thinking period appeared to last only a few minutes. The rest of the night seemed to go on forever. The mental detachment disappeared, returning me to a world of pitch-blackness where I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or closed. A world of discomfort from the bars that were pressing against my head and shoulders and the unnatural position of my joints. A world of strange noises from animals who wouldn't settle down, without doubt alerted to the human presence in their room by my odor. Throughout the night though, in the back of my mind there was a little burning ember of determination. A feeling of hatred that was not part of my soul fanned it, making it glow bright red. I would survive and I would come out of this on top! Eventually the light appeared under the door and shortly afterwards the door opened, revealing the silhouette of the Professor. As she advanced into the room, the sensors turned on the lights. Behind the professor was Jenny on hands and knees, dressed in her maid's uniform with a chain running from a collar around her neck to the professor's hand. They approached along the corridor of cages until only the bars of my cage separated us. "I hope you have had time to reflect on your disgrace. I want your answer to my ultimatum now." It was time for me to start showing my subservience. In my present state it wasn't difficult to pretend. "I am very sorry to have broken your rules. I can only say my illness prevented me from thinking my actions through. I do not want to leave yet, and I will accept your punishment." "You have no illness, just the same complaints as any other woman! Don't try to use that as an excuse. "My punishments are always tailored to the crime, therefore I sentence you to be corseted 24 by 7 for the rest of your stay here and I will ensure that you do not have the ability to break this rule. In addition you will continue this close confinement for the next week. Veronica has already started to make your punishment corset, Jenny will now take the final measurements. It will take Veronica a couple of days to complete the work. I will not see you until your confinement is complete." "Jenny. Get to work. I have only deactivated the security system for you for the next hour. If someone has to let you out of here I will be most displeased." She turned and left the room, slamming the door behind her. Jenny knelt down on the door in front of the door and passing her hands through the bars, unzipped the boots so I was able to step out of them. It must have been something like 20 hours since Jenny had helped me into the shoes and corset and it took a while before I could bend my ankles enough to allow my heels to touch the floor. The relief was enormous, I could stand straight at last. I flexed everything I could in the limited space available. Jenny started to take measurements, leaning through the bars, writing their values in spaces on a piece of paper, she took a great deal of measurements. Questions sprang into my mind. Why was she taking so many measurements? Why couldn't they lock me into a normal corset? What did Veronica the metal fabricator know about corsetry? The answer Jenny gave was the same in each case, a shake of her head. Eventually she shook her head, put a finger to her lips and then drew the same finger across her throat, her meaning was clear.... No talking or big punishment would result. Finally she put her pencil down, knelt once more and placing her hands through the bars prepared my boots to put on. "No! Please?" She shook her head and glared at me. I realized that she should not have removed them in the first place. Reluctantly, I held my feet ready to have them put on and I resumed my lopsided position across the cage. Jenny left the room and once again the light went out. Time passed, but I had no idea how much. Several times I saw light under the door, extinguished on each occasion without anyone coming to this room. I could hear different forms of machinery running and sometimes, loud hammering sounds. Finally the door opened and the lights came on. The newcomer was one of the associates I had briefly met at the coming out dinner. I tried to remember her name and thought it was Susan. She was wearing a pink boob tube, a white leather jacket and matching mini skirt and white pumps with 4" heels. She had her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, leaving a fringe. "I'm like, SO here to feed and clean the animals. I suppose that, like, means you as well. I have been like, SO warned that talking to you is dangerous. So, please, don't even, like, think about it." I thought I must have been delirious. But it was true. Frank Zappa's blond valley girl was talking to me in a baritone! The sooner Professor Martha started doing something about these peoples' voices the better, as far as my sanity was concerned. Then I remembered that that wouldn't happen until the procedure had been tested on her human guinea pig - me! As I watched Susan going from cage to cage, ineptly removing the sawdust at the bottom of each cage, refilling the water bottle and putting food in the animal's bowls, the thought came to me that I hadn't eaten for at least 2 days. The tight corset must have shrunk the capacity of my stomach taking away my appetite. Eventually she reached my cage. She tried to pass a bottle of water through the bars, but it wouldn't fit, so she used one of the drinking spouts from another animal and attached the bottle to the outside of the bars. She did pass a sandwich through. Finally she raked the saturated sawdust from the bottom of my cage and sprinkled fresh down. I ate the sandwich ravenously, pulled the water tube into my mouth, and sucked in the tepid fluid. As she left the room, she set a dial by the door and called "I SO need to let the animals have some daylight for a while." This time the lights didn't go off. That was the most excitement I had that day. Eventually the lights turned off and the pitch darkness enveloped me. I must have dozed somehow. The same pattern followed for two days. Dozing, relieving myself onto the floor, Susan mucking out and providing basic food. My nervous system had given up trying to tell me of the discomfort my body was suffering. I just lolled against the bars and let time pass. On the forth day Trish came. "Your corset is ready. Time to get it fitted." She looked at me. "I think we should go via your room so you can clean yourself up first, and just to ensure the professor doesn't see you looking such a mess I'll put this on." From behind her back, she pulled the leather hood previously locked over my head and then she unlocked the cage. I tottered out, stretched myself and took a few tentative steps. Trish put on the hood, laced the back and zipped over the lacing cover, but didn't put on a padlock. She also unlaced the bottom of my corset once more, turning her nose up at the smell as she did so. "This will have to be consigned to the garbage. Still you won't need it again." We went back to my room, my legs slowly getting used to the ability to move once more. Jenny was waiting and after looking at the state of my corset, just cut through the lacing and put it into a refuse sack. The sudden release of the corset caused blood to drain from my head and I blacked out. The next thing I knew I was coughing as Jenny held smelling salts under my nose. "Come on, hurry up. We don't have time for messing about. Don't bother getting dressed completely. Underwear, corset and a dressing gown is all you need." Trish urged. Once more Jenny helped me to clean up and make myself tidy then dressed in the minimal clothing we went back to the basement. This time we went to a room at the end of the corridor. This was a large well-equipped workshop where Veronica was waiting "I'm sorry to welcome you to my workshop under these circumstances. I do not relish this sort of task that Professor Martha sets for me." She said in her deep Scottish accent. "I have your corset over here." We followed her around to a bench in the corner of the workshop. I gasped as I saw an object that looked like no corset I had seen in my limited experience of the subject. It looked like a female torso made from a dull gray sheet metal. "It is in two half's, with busk clips at the front and the fastening at the back." Veronica explained. "Take a close look at it." She passed it to me. My mind became objective, not wanting to consider that it would be me fastened inside this inflexible metal clamshell. I was expecting the corset to be very heavy, but this was not the case. The workmanship on the object was beautiful. Each half though formed from several pieces of metal welded and beaten to shape, no joints were visible and there were no hammer marks. The joint at the front, where the two pieces separated, nearly invisible, so fine were the manufacturing tolerances. "What is it made of?" "I've used titanium. It's very light and causes little reaction when in contact with the body for long periods. Surgeons use it for pinning broken bones" At the back, three metal tabs with half-inch holes stuck out on each side. "Is this where it laces up? They look like they would catch on any clothes I wear over it." I asked. Veronica looked uneasy. "Aye, something like that. Don't worry; they'll nay catch when completely installed. Let's get it on now." Installed was definitely the right phrase. I wondered if my decision to accept punishment was right and again very quickly considered and rejected the alternative. I willingly submitted myself. Veronica disconnected the two parts and after I had removed the corset I was wearing, held them in place. The touch of the cold metal made me shiver. She engaged the front clips and then Jenny held everything in place whilst Veronica collected something from the bench. The corset went from above my breasts down to just above my crotch, but rose over my hips, allowing freedom to sit and walk around. The shape matched my body exactly, holding my breasts into the rigid titanium molded breast cups. It would be more accurate to say that my body would match the shape of the torso exactly, for below the breasts the torso swept into a very narrow waist, compressing my body to fit. As Veronica passed by, I noticed that she had three long, half-inch bolts in her hand. I suddenly realized the strength of the fastening and the available mechanical advantage of bolts in the rigid form over laces in a flexible corset. She threaded the bolts through the tabs and spun nuts on, quickly taking out the slack. She showed me a long piece of thin sprung steel "I need to temporarily put this in to stop pinching your skin as the bolts are tightened. It will slide out afterwards." The tightening began. Veronica methodically turned each of the three bolts, tightening them evenly. The smooth metal slid over my soft flesh, without the tugging and gripping that I experienced when being tightly laced into the normal corsets. She took her time, allowing me to adjust and continually checking the fit. I hoped that Jenny's measurements were accurate. I had been getting used to tight corsets and perhaps I had lost some weight whilst I was in the cage. In any event when Veronica announced that she had finished, I was still able to breathe. What I couldn't do was bend, except at the hips. Veronica walked me to a mirror and what I saw reminded me of images of the armor worn by Britannia or 'Xena - Warrior Princes', except neither of those characters had a narrow wasp waists. "I made the fit a wee bit looser than the training corset you were wearing. It could have been the same size but I thought it safer to have a margin since you'll have to wear it 24 hours a day for an unspecified period" "But you can unbolt it for short periods to allow me to wash and relax can't you?" "Sorry, but the professor was quite explicit, it is not to be removed. The bolts are only to close the back up." "So where are you going to fit the padlock then?" Trish took over. "Please, come over and sit in this chair, Err no, the other way around" I sat astride the chair with the front of my breastplate leaning against the back. She knelt in front of me, took my hands and quietly said, "There isn't going to be a padlock. Like Jenny's bridal, this has to be welded closed." Then before I could react she held my wrists firmly against the chair whilst Veronica quickly strapped them down. She then strapped my legs and feet to the side rails of the chair, binding me helplessly in a position that was ideal for the completing of the installation. Trish's voice was cracking as she said, "I'm sorry, it's just until the work is completed." I was speechless. I hadn't believed Martha when she said 24 by 7. I couldn't decide which was more frightening, the permanent entrapment or the welding process that would make it so. "W. w. w. won't I be burned by welding? I don't want this. It's not fair." I broke down with loud gasping sobs, repeating, "I didn't want this. I didn't want this. It's not fair. You can't do this to me. It's not fair. I don't want it!" Veronica now took Trish's place in front of me. She placed her hand on my cheek and with her thumb gently wiped away a tear. "You'll no get burned. Tis a special argon laser welding process that only heats a very small area. The heat will be conducted away before it gets through to your skin." "But I'll be permanently in this thing! I don't want to be a tin can for the rest of my life." Veronica just slowly shook her head and turned back to her equipment. Trish and Jenny left. My continuing cries matched the buzzing of the laser as Veronica completed the grizzly job. It felt no different, not tighter or looser, not warmer or cooler but just knowing that my release with a spanner was not possible made me feel sick at the bottom of my compressed stomach. "I just need to remove the bolts and grind off the brackets and I'm all done." At this point Martha came in. Her face had a wicked leer on it. She walked around the chair inspecting the work. She then spoke to Veronica in a voice too low for me to hear. Veronica looked at me then shrugged and left, collecting a tool trolley on her way out. "So you now realize that when I make a promise I keep my word. It WILL be every minute of every day until I say you are ready to leave. You will be going back to your cage in a minute, but there will be a surprise waiting for you." The sound of a powerful drill was coming from the other end of the corridor. Shortly after it ceased Veronica returned. "The removal of the brackets will have to wait until your confinement is over. I'll take you back to the animal room now." She undid the straps and passed me the dressing gown. After the training corset I found it a relief to be able to walk normally. I entered the cage, relieved that I could move my neck and I wasn't wearing the 5-inch heels any more. Then I noticed a bracket on the bars at the back of the cage that I was sure hadn't been there previously. I looked at Veronica. "What's that for?" "The professor has ordered that you be restrained inside the cage. Please turn around and don't struggle." She removed the now redundant bolts from behind me, and lined me up with the bracket. It proved to be a little high so she put in a low step for me to stand on. Then she threaded the bolts back through the corset mountings and into the bracket. Putting on the nuts she quickly tightened them down. My metal torso and the cage were now one. The professor had followed us and still with a smug look of satisfaction, inspected me. She looked at my feet. "There's no need for that step to be there. Please remove it." Veronica shrugged her shoulders, bent down and pulled the step out, as a magician removes the tablecloth. I could just reach the floor with my toes, but I found the metal superstructure I now wore supported me. As the professor left, I heard her sniff and say "Find that air headed woman and tell her that I don't like the animals to suffer. She must clean them properly." So the days passed. My only visitor was Susan who would only speak at me. My one attempt to talk to her ended when she clamped her hands over her ears and as she ran from the room she shouted "Nah nah, nah nah, I SO can't hear you." One of her misguided attempts to clean the animals properly was to bring in a powerful hose and spray the animals. She treated me no differently and the cold stinging water sluiced over me, leaving my teeth chattering. Everything she did was slapdash. She replaced all of the straw before using the hosepipe and then left the wet straw on the floor and this added a pungent rotting smell to the other unpleasantness. During the lights out times, I slept with my head in my hands, my elbows resting on my metal bust. Apart from the inability to move around in the confines of the cage, I was probably more comfortable than I had been in my previous stay in the cage. I could move my head, and legs (both together, if I chose!) But I did feel like a Barbie doll attached to the packaging of her box. The worst aspect was the mind numbing boredom. My mind sought something to keep it active. Once I had counted every bar of every cage I could see (825 of them) I allowed the ember of determination to glow brighter and started to plan my revenge. I thought through various strategies, ranging from jumping on the Professor and hitting her with my handbag at the first opportunity, to numerous forms of cruel and sadistic torture - I quite enjoyed those! However, currently I was in no position to attack and like every good general I would need intelligence. I made a mental checklist: Who was the other partner in TransLife Medical? Where did the finances come from? Were there contacts on the outside? Whom inside could I trust? These questions lead to others. How did the professor find out about my conversation with Jenny? However, the biggest question, did I have the determination to go through with this? At last Trish and Veronica came to release me. The cage door opened and Veronica leaned around behind me with a spanner and removed the bolts. As she removed the last bolt, I tottered forward and if Veronica hadn't caught and steadied me, I would have fallen. Once more laced into the hood, Veronica took me to her workshop where she used an angle grinder to remove the tightening brackets. I then made the return trip to my apartment for a shower. In the lift, Trish said, "The professor will start the vocal procedure this afternoon. She says it'll only take about 24 hours. Relax while you can. I'll come by later on and collect you." I gulped. I my room I stripped off the dressing gown and soiled underwear. I turned on the shower, let it run hot, entered the cubical, and enjoying the luxury of soap, soothed myself in the steam. When I had dried myself, I looked in the mirror. My hair had grown a little more and I realized that if I blow dried it and added some gel I could get a butch female looking style. I hadn't practiced with makeup for over two weeks. So, I sat at the dressing table and following the instructions in one of the magazine articles, worked hard until I was satisfied with the result. Later that afternoon I returned to the clinic. First Martha explained the procedure I was to undergo. "The technique is similar to the other procedures you have received here. I will introduce microbes into your neck through a number of injections. They will re-sculpt the larynx and Adam's apple. During the procedure, you must be immobilized and I'll have to put a breathing tube down your windpipe. So, I'm sure you'll be glad to know it'll be performed under a general anesthetic." A little later, I lay on a bed as the Professor injected a pre-med into my arm. Trish watched and as I became drowsy, said, "I hope this is successful for all our sakes," My senses returned one by one. First, my hearing came, then smell, the discomfort of a tube sticking up my nose and dryness in my throat. My eyes wouldn't yet open but I could tell I was lying in a bed, covered with sheets. I tried to lick my lips, but something was preventing them opening. Eventually, I dragged my eyes open. Trish was sitting by my bed. "Martha! She's coming round. Good to see you awake again, Diana." Martha came to the bedside. "All went well with the procedure. There's just the mouth restraint to come out. I didn't want you talking too soon and damaging my work." She reached behind my head and undid a buckle, then pulled a series of straps from my head, allowing me to open my mouth once more. "Well, I think it's time to hear if everything went as well as I believe." "Can I have a drink of water please?" was the first thing I asked. At least my mouth made the shapes to sound those words, but I made no noise. To be continued...