Club Goddess free porn video

Warning: Story is twisted and wrong. Certainly not suitable for immature eyes. I can't claim it is EXTREMELY original, as avid readers in this genre will recognize similar elements. But I have tried to make my fantasy a little different; hope you like it. Oh: and feel free to butcher me in the comments. I'm sure I deserve it, if only for the title. CLUB GODDESS By Philosopher1112 At the edge of downtown, towards the south where the bridge crossed the Thames, he first noticed the place. Maybe it had been a school at one time, but now the steps were crumbling and black tape covered the windows. This was Club Goddess. Yes, he had heard of it before, caught glimpses of people inside, usually on his way home from work late on Friday nights. Each week, his curiosity grew. What sort of club was it? And how could he get in? You see, Club Goddess was a gathering place for a very peculiar sort of people. Deviants, some would call them. Definitely perverts, others would say. But he, John, didn't feel the revulsion towards this establishment and its inhabitants that was supposed to be the norm. He wasn't particularly normal himself, nor did he desire to be so; the desires he did have were strange and exotic, desires that mental health professionals might classify as signs of deep mental illness. John was very good at acknowledging these desires without fear. Yet lately, all of his desires were becoming one, and this single longing seemed to usurp all others: he had to obtain membership in the exclusive Club Goddess. Club Goddess was exclusive because it catered only to women. That didn't mean it was impossible for men to get in, but it did mean that they had to come as the guest of a woman. As John later learned from the club's website, this policy was put in place to ensure that voyeuristic, predatory males were excluded. Otherwise, the club owners feared that Club Goddess would soon be filled with lonely, single men that it would be just another single's bar, in other words. John didn't consider himself lonely, but he was single. He realized that this was going to pose a problem, since it meant he was short on women who might be willing to bring him to the club. This effectively stalled his plan to satisfy his curiosity, a plan that he had to consider in agonizing silence. Or so he thought. Yet John had made an error or perhaps it was on purpose! when he thought his fascination with the club had gone unnoticed. He would never learn exactly how others had discovered his secret (he suspected someone had checked his browser history or cache) but this didn't stop him from feeling hopeful when an email arrived reading only, "If you're interested in CG, visit the smoking pit at 11:30 today." To many, such a message would be cryptic, but John grasped its meaning immediately. The smoking pit was the area opposite the employee entrance, away from the ventilation ducts. Although he didn't smoke himself, he had observed the crowds that gathered there long enough to know this was the place. John stretched. Only an hour to go and then it would be time to visit the pit. He wondered whom he would meet there and what he or she (he hoped it was a woman) would be able to tell him about Club Goddess. It was with great excitement that he put his computer into suspend mode and made his way to the elevators. He tried to be covert; what would happen if someone thought to follow him? He didn't want his secret to become public knowledge yet and he was still recovering from the shock of realizing that someone else knew. Whoever it was, he hoped he or she could keep silent about it. He waited only fifteen minutes at the smoking pit. Since lunch break wasn't for an hour yet, it was deserted. This was how he knew the first woman he saw had to be the one who had sent him the email. He was almost disappointed when he recognized her: it was sweet, mousy-haired Clara, an administrative assistant from the marketing department. She certainly didn't seem the type to have anything to do with a place like CG. He almost thought he'd made a mistake, until she spoke to him. "John, I'm glad you came." "Hello, Clara. Do you know why I'm here?" "I know," she said, and then sat beside him. "Are you sure you want to see Club Goddess?" "Oh yes!" he exclaimed, trying not to sound too eager. "I thought so. It just so happens that my sister, Valerie, frequents that place. She's looking for someone like you." "Like me?" Clara was hesitant to respond. "Yes, just someone who really wants to see what CG is like." "I do want to see I'm curious." "Today is Thursday. Can you come to our apartment tomorrow night? Valerie is also my roommate." John had brought Clara home a few times. He knew where the apartment was. After promising to be there on Friday, he watched Clara walk away without a word. Why was she so anxious? Clara was naturally a shy, nervous sort of person, but this was even worse than usual. Shaking his head, he absently wondered if her sister behaved the same way. On Friday evening, John went to the apartment. The door buzzed and clicked open a moment after he hit the intercom button. There wasn't any other response and he wondered if he was expected. The halls were dark as approached Clara's unit and he found himself trembling in anticipation. Valerie opened the door. It had to be Valerie, but he never would have guessed that this was Clara's sister. While Clara was small, with dark, mousy hair, the person who answered the door came right to his shoulder and he was taller than average. She had red hair, loads of it, circling her face like some kind of fiery halo. Her eyes as he could tell when he was able to meet her gaze for any length of time were green or gray. Truthfully, they seemed to be both colors at once. And they were so cold, so pervasive, so penetrating, like a defiant cry in the dark: this is a confident woman. "You must be John," she said, smiling icily. Except later he wouldn't describe her smile that way at all. Later, he would find it beautiful. "Yes." "Please come in." She took his arm and guided him inside. John had never been in Clara's apartment before. He was surprised to find it so expensive looking. The furnishings were lavish, the walls covered in fine paintings. He wondered what Valerie did for a living since he knew Clara couldn't afford this much on her salary alone. Valerie must have noticed his wide-eyed expression, for she explained, "Yes, it certainly is cozy in here, isn't it? I used to work as an art collector and antiques dealer. That's where most of these things come from." John suddenly realized that he was sitting on the couch while she was still standing. He didn't remember sitting down, yet here he was, staring up at Valerie who loomed over him from the kitchen entrance. At least he found it easier to look at her this way, and he even allowed his gaze to linger from this new and lower angle. How old was she? He wasn't sure. She seemed older than her sister, but perhaps that was just because she was more mature and confident than Clara could ever hope to be. Valerie waited, watching him examine her, not releasing him from her gaze until he had taken in every detail the pale curve of her face, the sharp lips, the lavender gown that hung loosely from her shoulders; loosely, that is, except for the chest area, where John could see her shapely breasts suspended like two perky orbs. For a moment, the gown almost seemed transparent, but that moment passed quickly, leaving him only with the sensation of his blood pounding in his ears. "You're here about Club Goddess, aren't you?" "Yes," he whispered. "I must warn you, as my guest, you would be my responsibility. That means that your behavior will reflect on me." "You can trust me!" he gasped. "I hope so. But trust isn't what I want." "No?" "No. What I want is obedience." In an instant, she was beside him on the couch. Suddenly, John didn't feel comfortable meeting her stare any longer. This close to her, he could see the tiny hairs on her arms and smell her perfume. She was holding his hand and he was trembling. "You shake. Are you afraid?" "Maybe a little." She kissed the top of his hand; her lips were warm, dry, and parted just slightly. It was a curious gesture, causing him to flush with embarrassment. Soon, she pulled away, but she left his hand resting in her lap. "You are a shy little one, aren't you?" Valerie murmured. "That's good. It means you will not become bold and misbehave." "I won't misbehave. I'll be good." "I know you will." With that, she rose and went to the liquor cabinet. Whatever John had been feeling, it was diminished at the moment of their separation. When Valerie asked him what he wanted to drink, he found that he was able to respond without gasping. When she came back with his drink, Valerie sat in the chair across from him. Now that there was some distance between them, John did not feel so intimidated. Mostly, they just talked about his work. He found the change of subject irritating, but didn't want to sound overly eager by forcing the conversation back to Club Goddess. Fortunately, John discovered that the questions about work did have a point. Valerie wanted to know if he could get Monday to Friday off for the following week. The reason, she said, was so that they would have time to prepare him for his club debut. He told her that, while he could get the other days off easily, he had a meeting to attend on Thursday. When Valerie frowned at this, John saw his hopes of getting into CG crashing around him. How could he fail when he was so close? But then she smiled. It was her icy smile the one that would haunt him later on. She seemed to be laughing at some private joke. Finally, she said, "All right, John. If you have to be in on Thursday, then so be it. It might even be an interesting test." John sighed in relief, hardly paying attention to her words. All he knew was that he still had a chance. With that thought, he finished his third drink. And just what was he drinking? It certainly seemed stronger than what he was used to imbibing. Valerie quickly poured him another. Truthfully, she was relieved as well. John looked like he would make a perfect little one. He was even reacting properly to the chemicals in his drink, a combination of mind-altering drugs she had invented years earlier. Valerie had worked as an antiques dealer for a while, but that had only been a front, a side business to distract her while she conducted her research. And just what had she discovered through this research ? She watched as John finished his fourth glass. He wasn't talking anymore. In fact, he wasn't doing anything but giggling, and he did have such a lovely giggle. When his eyes finally slipped shut, she gave him his instructions. This didn't take long; Valerie was very good at what she did she knew just how to prepare her subjects. After she had finished, she let him awaken naturally, knowing her programming would keep him from noticing that anything was wrong. "Val?" he muttered, shaking his head. "Geez, I'm sorry. I must have nodded off. Today has been tough." "That's just fine, John. Will you be able to get home in one piece?" "Of course!" he exclaimed. "And you want me to come back on Monday?" "Yes, Monday morning," Val said, secretly pleased that her directions had held so well. John was coming along perfectly. "I'll be here," he replied, smiling. With a mighty stretch, John got off the couch and made his way to the door. Valerie noticed his walk yes, it was just as it ought to be, not that he would notice. "By the way," he put in suddenly. "Where is Clara? I wanted to think her for introducing us." "Sorry, little one. Clara had a date tonight." "Oh." Briefly, he seemed mystified, then he continued: "I'll be back Monday then, Mistress Val." "I certainly hope so," she murmured as she closed the door behind him. Her instructions were definitely holding. She wondered, as she usually did, how much he would notice. John was halfway home before he noticed the package in his lap. It was a large, brown envelope, sealed but without a label. He seemed to remember that Val had given it to him to be opened later, but the memory was fuzzy. While waiting at a traffic light, he hefted the package and tried to guess what was inside. It was confusing. He thought there were three objects within, one that felt like a book, another that was soft and small, and the last object that rattled when he shook it. Putting the package away, he told himself he would discover the contents soon enough. In fact, he planned to open the package as soon as he got home. But he soon found another distraction: the bathtub. How many years since he had taken a bath? He didn't know. Like most people, he had accumulated a number of bottles in the bathroom over time and he searched through them now while the tub filled. Although he did not know what he was looking for, he found it soon enough. It was a small bottle of bubble bath. In just a few minutes, he was soaking in a tub of foamy, scented water. He had completely forgotten about his preference for taking showers over baths. As the warm water softened his muscles, he began to drift towards sleep. It was a strange kind of sleep, a sleep that left his knees quivering and his feelings feeling hot and twitchy. And, when he slept, he dreamed only of Val calling him her little one, and this somehow pleased him greatly. He woke when the water became cold. Pulling himself out of the tub, he reached for a towel to wrap around his waist. Strangely, that felt uncomfortable he wanted his chest covered and he did not know why. Quickly refastening the towel so it protected the top part of his body as well as the bottom, he combed his hair once and then left the bathroom. Focusing immediately on the package, he realized he had left it in a chair while he had bathed. Now he took the envelope into his hands and eased into that same chair, tearing the paper easily and eagerly. Reaching inside, he pulled out the largest object, the one that had felt like a book. Actually, it was a very glossy magazine. He flipped through it without checking the title and began to read. This was interesting. It was a story about choosing the right makeup to suit one's complexion. He soon found himself wondering about his own complexion. When he tired of the magazine, he examined the other articles in the package. The first was a bottle of pills. Neither the pills nor the bottle were marked in any way and before he could stop himself he had dry swallowed two. The pills were actually very small and white, like after dinner mints. After staring at the bottle for a second more, he dropped it back into the envelope and retrieved the last item. The final surprise in the package was waiting near the bottom. This was the soft, nondescript item he had felt earlier. Well, he knew what it was now. In his hands he held a pair of plain cotton panties. They seemed very small to him, but he immediately liked the hint of lace around the edges. He liked it so much he wondered what it looked like when the panties were being worn and that was when he decided to find out. Quickly, he shed his towel and slipped into the soft under things. They weren't so small after all. In fact, he thought they fit nicely, but he had to check to know for sure. He examined himself carefully in the closet mirror. Naked except for the panties, he noticed how smooth and soft his skin appeared from the bubble bath. He still held one arm across his chest protecting what, he did not know. But his thin arms, little pink nipples, and the very chaste and perfectly white V of his panties did indeed make him look like somebody's little one Shivering, not from cold, but from delight, he slipped into bed and quickly fell asleep. The next morning, he called work to ask for the time off. His boss was very nice and easily granted his request. In truth, management had been asking John to take a vacation for quite a while, for they feared he was going to burn out like so many other young professionals had done. As long as he was willing to attend Thursday's meeting, they were willing to grant his vacation request. This phone call made, John glanced around his apartment. He was looking forward to Monday, but what could he do in the meantime? He paced softly around his apartment, considering his options. He rarely gave a thought to the fact that he was still wearing a pair of plain cotton panties. He also didn't notice that his chest felt sore or that he had taken two more of the pills from the envelope. You might think that he would certainly have noticed that his skin was softer, his muscles smaller, and that his legs were even a little shorter, but he wasn't aware of these changes either. Mostly, this was because he was programmed not to pay attention to any alterations, but part of the reason, it must be admitted, was that he was secretly enjoying himself. He eventually decided that needed to prepare for Monday. But what did he need to prepare, exactly? While thinking about this, he rummaged through his cupboards until he found a bit of candy left over from Halloween. He remembered going as a French maid, prancing from door to door and letting men put their hands under his costume for a piece of candy. He had been so naughty then Wait, he thought. That isn't right. I stayed in the apartment for Halloween and gave out candy. That's where this bag came from; it was leftovers from what he'd given out that night. Where had that other strange, enticing vision come from? As best as he could, he tried to grasp all the odd events that had happened to him so far, for he knew there was a connection, even if it stayed just out of his reach. "He he," he muttered, giggling. "I just have a dirty mind. That's my problem." After nibbling on some candy, he watched television. There were some great music videos on and also cartoons, and well, he watched a lot of television that day. He even got into a fashion show he found while flipping through the channels. He decided that many of the models showed too much skin but I wish I could fill out a swimsuit like that, he said to himself. When he finally dressed, it was 2 pm. He didn't even think about taking off his panties. But what to wear? Finally settling on a short t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts, once dressed he struck another pose in the mirror, deciding that he was pretty good looking. He especially liked the way his nipples poked through the shirt. The day passed quickly for John, though he found himself drawn more and more often to the mirror, even planting kisses on the glass sometimes. On other occasions, he would stand with his breasts pressed together, inspecting his cleavage. For dinner, he ordered a pizza (and no, nothing happened with the pizza guy. What do you think this is, some kind of porno story?) He didn't eat very much and right afterwards he swallowed another pill. Soon he felt very tired and after another bath was in bed and sleeping soundly. The first thing he noticed when he woke on Sunday was that he felt very warm. What sorts of dreams had he had? Either they were very nice dreams or very awful ones, for on awaking he found himself drenched in sweat with his heart pounding. When he sat up, he instinctively held the sheet across his chest. Things felt odd there, slightly heavy but still painful. When he showered that morning no bath, for once the pressure of the water on his puffy nipples made him cry out. Something does seem really different here, he thought, pulling on another t-shirt. He had another pair of shorts to wear, too, but he didn't wear any underwear this time, since he had decided earlier that morning that his panties needed to be washed. Knowing that Mistress Val would want him to be clean and presentable on Monday, he gathered a bundle of clothes, filled a basket, and headed for the laundry room. When he went to retrieve his laundry later and heard someone else in the room, he suddenly felt very ashamed. Even though it was just Kim, his neighbor from down the hall, he was unsure. What did he have to be ashamed of? When he came in, she was busy putting her own damp clothing in a dryer, but she gave him a big smile when she noticed him standing in the doorway. Suddenly, John realized that she was using his dryer. Noticing the direction of his gaze, Kim grinned. "Sorry, the other machine was broken, so I had to use this one. Don't worry, I put your stuff in the basket." "Thanks, Kim," he murmured, his mouth very dry. What if she had seen his present from Val? "Gee, John, is something wrong with your throat? Your voice sounds odd." "I'm fine, thanks," he mumbled. Awkward silence reigned for a few moments. Finally, Kim smirked: "So who's the lucky lady?" "Huh?" "You know what I mean. She must have spent at least one night at your place." "I, I don't know what you mean," he stammered. "Then what ah!" Kim's shocked expression told John that she had indeed seen the panties when she had exchanged his laundry for hers. Even if Kim wasn't the brightest person in the world, she must have come to the right conclusion by now. "John, really, I had no idea!" she exclaimed. "Okay, whatever, just let me get my stuff." With that, he grabbed his basket and headed for the door. Obstinately, Kim decided to follow. "Kim, what do you want?" he growled. "Nothing, uh, except... well, I'm curious." "There's nothing to be curious about." He was heading for the elevator and Kim was right behind. Since they lived on the same floor, it was unlikely that he could get rid of her. "I just didn't know, that's all," she said. "Can't we just talk about it?" They were on the elevator now and it seemed to be moving very slowly. Suddenly, Kim's hand darted forward and she pulled something through the bars of his basket. The panties. Of course. "This isn't all you have, is it?" she demanded. "I'm sure your real wardrobe is much larger." "It's not. Really." "Can't I see it?" They were off the elevator now and near his door. Kim still would not leave him alone. When he opened the door, she tried to peer around him, perhaps hoping for a glimpse into his closet. He didn't know what she was waiting for; he was not going to let her in. But then she said, "Please, just a little peek." Whatever it was, his resolve crumbled in seconds. He even held the door for her to enter his apartment. Kim did examine his closet immediately and he could tell she was disappointed. "So you don't have any lingerie hidden anywhere?" she asked. "No." "Just these?" She held up the white undies. "I guess so." "But aren't you just a little curious to experiment further?" "Maybe " he breathed. "Come on. I have an idea." Kim took his arm and led him to the mirror. They were both visible in its image, he wearing a t-shirt and shorts, and she wearing a tight sweater and long skirt. It was quite fancy. John suddenly recalled that Kim often worked on weekends. "There's something I'd like to try," she whispered in his ear. "You'll like it, I think." She made him undress in front of her. Soon, he was naked with the slight swells of his breasts visible under the bottom of one protective arm. Kim very firmly pulled his arm away, so he could do nothing but stare at his breasts in the mirror. Kim's breath was hot on his ear. "Hmm, look at these. How does it feel when I touch them?" He couldn't formulate a response. It didn't hurt, anyway. The way her fingers danced across his nipples felt very good, very right and his thighs were trembling again. "Feels good, doesn't it?" She squeezed his backside with her other hand. "I had no idea you were so shapely, John, though that name isn't appropriate now, is it?" He didn't think so, but he still couldn't speak. He let her pull him around, so he was facing her. Then she kissed him deeply, clutching his shoulders, not for her own sake, but for his. With her tongue probing his mouth, he thought he would swoon. When she let him go, he sank into the love seat, a tiny, feminine moan escaping his lips. His legs were curled underneath him, so that he was seated sideways, facing to the right. This allowed Kim to slide in behind him, planting another kiss on his ear as she did so. John noticed something in her hand but since she was to his back he couldn't see anymore, and he wasn't that concerned anyway. Kim wrapped her legs around him, pressing her chest firmly against his back. For the first time, he noticed she was naked, too. He couldn't remember her removing her clothing, but he could clearly feel her full breasts touching his shoulder blades. When her arms went around his chest, he released the breath he had been holding for some time now. Her hands were just so cold. Then he saw what she was holding: it was a lime green bra, the very one she'd been wearing, he surmised. With a sigh, he gave in to her, allowing her to fasten the dainty thing around his chest. The bra closed at the back snugly but left enough room at the front for Kim to position his tiny breasts. He felt embarrassed because he was unable to fill Kim's much larger cups, but when she complimented him on his assets he blushed all the same. Well, do you really want to know what they did next? If you've been following along, you must have some idea. No? I suppose I can elaborate on the events that occurred that Sunday afternoon. A car almost hit a squirrel, the driver cursing as he slammed on the brakes, wondering whether added stress on the brake pads was worth the squirrel's life. Two old people went for a walk in the park to check out the scantily clad female joggers. A mother and her child Oh. You want to know what happened to John. Indeed, our hero (or is that heroine?) has just put on his very first bra. It wasn't the greatest fit, however, I will agree. But neither John nor Kim really cared, for while he stood admiring his curves in the mirror, she sat and admired him. When she asked him to try on her panties, he eagerly accepted. They were black, French cut. John enjoyed the way they rode up his hips. To be sure they fit (they did), Kim ran her fingers along the edges, letting her nails glide underneath to his soft skin. Then she began to touch the front, where things were strangely flat. After gently massaging him, Kim grew frustrated. He felt very warm but that was all. There just wasn't any activity down there. Finally, she pulled him against her chest, where he began to kiss the tops of her breasts greedily. As his mouth moved, she stroked his hair, and wondered at how soft it was. When he was done, Kim dressed John in her sweater and skirt, then made sure he knew how it felt to have someone's hand caress his thigh. Once he was asleep (and dreaming, she hoped), Kim put him on the love seat, kissed him, and left to get her laundry. She decided she could wear something from his closet and come back for her own clothing later. She just didn't have the heart to disturb him now he looked so small and adorable! When John awoke, he found himself alone. Kim had not returned and it was dark outside. Slightly hungry, he ate some more pizza, then watched television, his legs crossed daintily as he ate his slice of pizza in small, girly bites. After a while, he simply stared ahead blankly while the television played on, thinking about someone with cold fingers squeezing his thighs. The thought quickly warmed him and he began to trace soft patterns under his skirt, edging closer to the silky fabric of his panties with each pass. Finally, he took another pill, then undressed and went to bed, still playing with his tender, damp skin. Monday morning. John woke at 7 am automatically, the events of the previous evening forgotten in his anxiety to meet Mistress Val. Fulfilling his programming engrossed him so much that he hardly noticed that women's clothing covered the floor of his apartment. After showering, he slipped into his plain white panties and a small t-shirt and shorts, somehow understanding that this was all Valerie wanted him to wear. His breasts were now so large and firm that they were clearly visible under the t-shirt, while the fabric irritated his perky nipples. He hoped hmm, he wasn't sure what he hoped, but he wondered if Mistress Val could give him something to protect his growing boobies. He just wasn't sure what. After eating a light breakfast, he gathered the magazine (a teen girl magazine, as I'm certain you suspect) and the pills (what are they? Your guess is as good as mine), knowing Mistress Val wanted him to bring those things. His preparations complete, he left his apartment and drove to her place, unaware of the wiggle in his walk or the jiggle in his step. Awaiting him in her apartment, Val certainly took note of John's "progress." She was glad to see that he was turning out so pretty, knowing it wouldn't be long before he would be able to pass as the cutest little thing. She watched him from the kitchen, gloating as he waited for her with his legs crossed and his face fixed in an expression of girlish naivete. He had no idea what was in store for him; she only hoped that he would enjoy it. "How was your weekend, John?" "Just fine," he muttered, not meeting her gaze. Why was he so nervous? "And what did you do this weekend?" she asked him, her suspicion masking her genuine curiosity. Val was always very interested to know how her subjects handled themselves on their first weekend. Indeed, this was why she became suspicious so easily she knew what some of her past subjects had done. When John refused to answer immediately, she realized her suspicions had been warranted. "What did you do, John?" she demanded. John's programming made him extremely susceptible to the demands of females. This was why he had eventually allowed Kim into his apartment, simply because she asked him very firmly to let her in. He had no choice now but to relate those events to his mistress. Val listened patiently as he recounted his exploits, surprised that he had become so enthralled with his new role so quickly. It was an unusual for a subject to exhibit so little resistance, so unusual that she wondered if some of John's treatment was just a fulfillment of one of his previous fantasies. That would explain why he was so willing to submit. When John had finished, Val leaned back and studied him. Today, she wore tight leather pants, a tank top, and leather boots with four-inch heels. Her red hair just touched the tops of her shoulders. While she thought, she quickly tapped the heel of her boot. Tap tap. "So, John." Tap tap. "You enjoyed yourself this weekend, didn't you?" "Y... yes." Tap tap. "What color were the panties I gave you?" "White " Tap tap tap. "And you know what white means?" "I think so." Tap tap tap. "Are you sure?" Tap tap. "White is a pure color. Were you pure this weekend?" Tap tap. "N... no " Tap tap tap. "You tried to behave like a big girl this weekend, but look at your chest." Dutifully, John did. "Does that look like the chest of a big girl, of a woman?" With tears in his eyes, John shook his head. Val continued to tap the heel of her boot. "It's not, is it? In fact, I think you have the immature breasts of a teenager. Teens aren't allowed to fool around like you did. It's wrong." "I'm sorry," he sobbed. Val finally stopped tapping her boot. "You should be sorry," she snapped. "I was going to take you shopping today, but now I think you need to be punished first." "Punished?" "Yes, I want you to understand what it means to be my little one. Take off your clothes." He did as he was told. While John undressed, Val took some instruments out of her closet. Although she wasn't really angry with her little one, she was loathe to let a an opportunity to show him the virtue of obedience pass her by. When she returned to her sitting room, John was naked and standing with his legs slightly apart. Val liked that pose: she could clearly see the way her chemicals and instructions had changed him so far. He was a few inches shorter, so that the top of her head now came up to his chin. His arms and legs were thinner and almost hairless. Stepping behind him, she saw that his shoulders were now narrow, with hardly any muscle tone, while his backside had grown to be soft and fleshy. These, however, were not the most important changes; for those, Val had to inspect his front again, where she couldn't help but tweak his large, sensitive nipples, or stop herself from cupping the mounds of pale, smooth flesh underneath them. He was developing so well that Val knew they would have to go shopping soon, just so he would have something to wear. Oh yes: there was another "small" change at the front. Kim had certainly noticed it when she had tried to touch him through his panties. Others could have noticed it just by looking at his shorts. In fact, the only person who wouldn't have noticed it was John himself and that was only because he was programmed not to notice. Mostly, he was just glad for the extra room in his shorts but didn't they feel a little tight at the back and around the hips? At that moment, Val burst into laughter. She had to laugh; John was just being so amusing. Although she didn't know his exact process of thought, she could tell where it had led him he had his arms behind his back, where he was rubbing his backside furiously. Val knew he was going to be rubbing his butt a lot before the week was over. "John, look at me!" she commanded. Obediently, he turned, though his eyes remained stubbornly fixed on the floor. He was going to need some discipline, he realized. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed him by the shoulders and waist and forced him on to the floor. When he had submitted, she stood to briefly admire her handiwork from a higher vantage point, noticing the way was sitting with his shapely legs wrapped under him and his skinny arms protecting his chest. Who would have guessed that he was anything but her sweet little one? Although she had planned a long punishment session, Val decided to cut it short: he was coming along so well that it would be a crime to keep him undressed much longer. He needed something pretty to wear, something that would fit his still changing body. For now, however, she had to punish him. Kneeling beside him, she forced him on to his stomach, noting how his little derriere wobbled in the air. Without warning, she slapped him there, just hard enough to hurt. When he cried out, she slapped him again, paddling his bottom with one hand while the other reached for one of the instruments she had taken from the closet. It was a blindfold. Quickly, she covered his eyes and then resumed spanking and pinching him. Unable to see and held securely by his mistress, John but wiggle and scream as each blow landed. It didn't hurt as much as he expected much, but it was humiliating. He soon had tears streaming down his cheeks, as well as a very sore bottom. After ten minutes or so, Val released him and brought him a big, plastic cup of water. Still sniffling, he made cute little slurping noises as he drank. Val had to laugh again: each time he shook, his delicate boobies started to jiggle. Guessing he was now almost an A cup, she realized she would have to have his measurements taken at the mall. That was their destination: today, Val was going to take her little one to the mall for some new and more appropriate clothing. Forcing John to rise and don his panties, she left him standing in the middle of the room while she made lunch. From the corner of her eye, she could see him still sobbing softly while he tried petulantly to keep his panties from chafing his sore butt. He was just so cute! For lunch, Val made John a grilled cheese sandwich while she had a low fat yogurt. She insisted on cutting the sandwich into little bits and feeding them to him, even though it made him cry again. After lunch, she dressed him in the shorts and t-shirt he had arrived in, buckled him into the backseat of her car, and headed for the mall. While she drove, Val considered what she was going to buy for her newest subject. She had a rough list in mind, but what order should she make her purchases in? Eventually, she decided that an inside-out order would be best: she would start with his measurements and what he would wear closest to his skin and then proceed from there. By the time they were finished, John would have almost everything he would need. Is it that surprising that this story is going to have a lot of shopping in it? It shouldn't be. What did you expect John to wear to Club Goddess, ripped jeans and a plaid shirt? Val took John to Victoria's Secret first. Frankly, that decision shouldn't be a surprise, either. At first, John was unwilling to enter the store, but one swat to the bottom was enough to change his mind. While Val talked to a saleswoman, he studied some of the lacy, silky things he would soon (perhaps) be wearing. Then he was whisked away to a dressing room, where he was forced (again) to strip down to his panties. This time, however, he was in front of a stranger, and for this reason he balked. Without hesitation, Val held him down while the saleswoman cut off his clothing everything but his panties, of course. As John stood shivering before them, the saleswoman took out her tape measure and went to work. She wrapped it around the fullest part of his bosom first, just tightly enough to get an accurate measurement. Val had to hold John's arms to keep him from pushing the tape away. Although she realized the sight of his bare chest embarrassed him she had programmed that way in the first place she didn't want him complaining later about a badly fitting bra. It turned out that John was a 34A, just what he was supposed to be. Val didn't know how big she was going to let him get; sometimes, she allowed her subjects to go right to a C cup, though never larger than she was herself, except in one case. For that subject, as punishment for shaming her, Val gave him double Ds. However, she hoped she wouldn't have to go to such extremes with John, since it would require her to buy him an entirely new wardrobe. Besides, she wanted him to be her little one, and giant boobs would dispel part of that image. After she had taken his measurements, the saleswoman brought back a few pieces for John to try on. These ranged from plain white to elaborate designs of blue and green lace. Val thought it all fit marvelously. She chuckled as John felt himself up, wondering how he enjoyed running his fingers over the plain white cups of his first real bra. "How does it feel?" "Mm good." While he was distracted, she wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled him on to one of the benches in the dressing room. Almost effortlessly, she drew him on to her lap, playing with his nipples while the other first removed his panties and then began to stroke his thighs. She had already decided which pieces she was going to buy for him: the white one, a blue lace one, and a beautiful black strapless. John seemed to almost go to sleep even as his nipples rose to attention, hard little points that Val rolled between her thumb and finger expertly. She knew just what would feel good. The saleswoman returned with a stack of panties for John to try. Leaving him in her lap, Val pulled the panties over his thighs by herself, noting that each was perfectly flat at the front. A casual observer would not have thought that John was anything but a beautiful sixteen year old girl, slightly underdeveloped in the hip and chest area, but with very soft skin and luxuriously pink nipples. Although she thought John looked fabulous in everything, Val decided that he needed another pair of plain white panties, two pairs of lacy black panties, two pairs of blue satiny panties, and, finally, a purple thong. After a few minutes, the saleswoman moved on to sleepwear. Since John seemed almost reluctant to part with his training bra and cute white panties, Val let him keep the panties on, but made sure that his breasts were again exposed to open air. They were like two little globes of flesh, soft and feminine, but waiting to be stroked, a temptation which neither Val nor the saleswoman could resist. When the saleswoman gave him a transparent pink nightie to wear, John meekly pulled it over his head. The nightie hung from his perky, developing breasts in the most delicious way. It came to well above his knees, leaving most of his body open for Val's careful ministrations. As soon as the saleswoman left to ring up their purchases, Val made sure that John would always be aware of just how vulnerable his position was; while he stood in a daze, gazing at the dressing room wall, she slid her hand under his nightie and groped between his legs. She purposefully used more force than necessary, so he could do nothing but let her pry his legs open and stroke the underside of his panties, just in front of his smooth backside. From this angle, Val could feel the soft, deflated sac that was all that remained of John's genitals, but she pretended it wasn't there, grinding her finger into the tender, damp skin that was just behind it. After a moment, John's hips began to gyrate wildly, almost as if he were imagining being fucked, and Val let the fantasy continue, cupping his butt so that he could really wrap his thighs around her penetrating digit. Since her mouth was free, she pulled the straps of the nightie down and began to kiss and suck on his revealed breasts, relishing the very feminine moan this elicited. When John came, it was not quite like a woman, but it certainly was not like a man; but Val recognized what the shaking, sweaty motion of his thighs represented, and she increased the attention she was giving to his nipples accordingly. Then he was squealing, his back arching as Val finally sunk her teeth into the top of his left breast. That would leave a mark but it would serve as a reminder of just how humiliatingly she had violated him. Val considered letting the saleswoman degrade him further, perhaps by allowing her to take a turn fucking him, but she suppressed this temptation. They had so many other stores to visit today and it wouldn't do to spend all their time in this first one! Of course, continuing their shopping excursion would be a problem, since John's clothing had been shredded. What was he going to wear while they explored the mall? For Val, this wasn't really a dilemma at all she just dressed John in the flimsy nightie, made sure he was wearing a cute pair of panties underneath and sent him on his way. Obviously, John felt exposed, but that wasn't the real issue; as a man, he had shown more skin in public before. No, the real problem was the nature of his exposure. When he passed people, he was sure they were watching him, their eyes examining his hard little nipples and slightly swaying breasts. Val even made him bend over several times so everyone could see his panties. Whenever he protested, she would swat him until he cried, usually while others in the mall looked on approvingly. Such punishment! You would think John would be happy to have someone buying him so many pretty things, but no. He constantly struggled against Mistress Val. Oh no! To be continued ? Let me know if this story deserves to be!