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Life After Last Night Giddy and gay I'm on my way to Jenny's house. My wife, Sheila, is out of town on one of her bi-monthly business conferences and for me that means a Saturday night date. My friend Jenny has a salon in her home and for a guy like me that is ideal. It's 9:00AM and I've been up and busy for three hours. I started a liquid diet Wednesday when I confirmed the date, but for me - date day means a deep douche. Among my stash of "special things" is a rig designed for just that purpose. It consists of a pair of two-quart douche bags with individual control valves and a common "Y" connection. The "Y" connection delivers fluid into my body via a double bardex. This little darling allows one to take two quarts and then writhing in pain, take two more. While I soaked in a bubble bath and shaved my body this morning, I took four sets of double bags. I can't really get four quarts in me, but once I get past the initial bag I can get more that three in me. I hold them ten minutes before releasing them. I'm clean of course, but I'm not clean enough for a date. When I expelled the last set, I shoved a soapy washcloth inside me where it now resides. Speeding along, I'm dressed in a gaff, lace panties, white short shorts, a lacy sports bra, a short pink tank top and flip-flops. This might be considered the wrong outfit for a guy to be speeding in, but I've become quite bold with my feminine dress. I'm not passable as a girl under any circumstance, but I love being observed as a transvestite. I was stopped for speeding a few weeks back and the young officer made me get out of the car and stand while he called my information in. He was nervous as a cat and I think he thought he was punishing me in some way, but I thought it was a hoot. "Hi, Jamie Jo," Jenny said with an affectionate hug and air kisses. She knows and always uses my "fem" name when we are in private. As far as that goes she knows my real name, Jim Carter, as well. Holding my arms out she says, "You're cute as a kitten." "I'm just a guy in girls clothes. You're the doll," I said. Jenny is four inches shorter than me at 5' 6". She has beautiful features enhanced by impeccable makeup. Her body is boyish with small breasts and narrow hips, but her legs go all the way to heaven. "We're all set inside. Have you eaten?" Jenny asked. "I'm not hungry, but is it too early for a light beer?" "I've got some cold, just for you," Jenny said. "What's on the agenda?" "I have a date tonight. I want a face wax, a manicure, a pedicure and my wig washed and styled," I answered as we went inside and I got seated. "Who's the lucky guy?" Jenny asked, trying to be obtuse. "Fred," I answered with a glow despite knowing Jenny hated the guy. "Girl, you can do without that asshole," Jenny said. "How's Holly?" I asked trying to change the conversation. As if on queue, Holly walked in. She was stark naked and said, "Hello, sissy boy." She is a stunning beauty with alabaster skin, strawberry blonde hair and wide hips. She has a very flat chest, but huge areolas. I couldn't keep my eyes off her. No question I would give one of the legs off my stool in hell to look like her. She walked over to Jenny and kissed her. Jenny ran her hand slowly up Holly's leg then touched her soft amber curls. When the embrace ended Holly looked at me hard as if to say - hands off. But I know the deal here and I respect it except in my fantasy world. Here's a question, if a tranny makes love to a woman is it heterosexual? What if the woman is a lesbian? Holly slipped on a short robe and volunteered to do the waxing. I don't believe she's a real top, but she never misses a chance to deal me a little pain. While Holly waxed my face Jenny did my wig. Before they started on my nails I asked for a potty break. I removed the washcloth from my tail and put it in a zip-lock bag I had brought for the purpose. The cloth was relatively clean. I leaned over the tub and took a fleet enema. When it was expelled I inserted a super tampon and rejoined the girls. I finished my beer and had another while they did my nails with French tips. Jenny and Holly don't drink. I think they might be in AA, but my drinking has never been an issue. We prattled pleasantly about clothes and makeup and a new mall east of town. Jenny kept up her never ending quest to hook me up with a new man. By the time Jenny put my wig in place and started my makeup it was approaching noon. My wig is a platinum blonde bob and Jenny was applying light tan shades to my eyes. I would use blue green later, but what she was doing would attract a lot of attention as long as I was an obvious male. She applied eyeliner, curled my lashes then colored my thin arched brows. My wife Sheila had a fit when I pierced my earlobes, but Jenny had plucked and shaped my eyebrows over several visits. If Sheila noticed she didn't say anything. Speaking of my wife, my life with Sheila is pleasant. She refuses to be in the room with me dressed in women's clothing and bitches constantly that I appear gay. I don't have a clue where she gets that notion. I've been on a light regiment of female hormones for two years, I'm very careful about my weight and I do toning exercise daily. As a result, I'm thin with a flat belly, tiny breasts and smooth hairless skin. I have a fair complexion and stay out of the sun. As previously stated my ears are pierced in three places and my brows have been plucked. I wear my hair short and men pay these little idiosyncrasies no mind. Under my white shirt and tie my pierced nipples, naval ring and the butterfly tattoo on my right shoulder would shock them, but otherwise I'm just another smuck. I told Sheila I was having erectile dysfunction and in fact that is the truth. The hormones seem to have reduced the size of my equipment and it takes a lot of work for me to come. Sheila wanted me to take Viagra, but didn't seem too unhappy when she had to settle for cunnilingus. It's a good arrangement. I like to give and she likes to receive. She makes an occasional run at my cock, but it is truthfully a waste of time. It takes me 20 - 30 minutes to jack off if I have lots of visual stimulation. Jenny has a shaded patio so we sat outside and ate a light lunch. I had yogurt and they settled for fruit and cheese. After lunch I combed my hair, put the wig in a case and said goodbye in Jenny's favorite way - a stack of twenty-dollar bills. Jenny warned me to be careful and she wasn't talking about riding around dressed as a girl. I got the message but my blood was hot with lust and building. Chapter Two Back home the next order of business was a nap. I removed the tampon and replaced it with a heavily greased medium butt plug. After slipping into a floor-length flannel nighty, I set my alarm for 4:30, took a sleeping pill and settled into bed. Upon awakening a jolt of reality ran through my limbs. I could hardly contain the joyous thought that I would soon be in his arms. My high- heel mules clattered across the floor as I began my packing. Jazz music and Scotch whisky aided my happy task. I packed one gaff and set one out to wear. My panties are pure spandex and lace high cut briefs. I prize them for their beauty and utility as additional restraint. I packed two pairs of white and kept one out. My garter is smooth white satin with three adjustable straps per side. I added the garter and two pair of white hose with seems up the back to my bag. My brassieres are spandex and lace matching my panties. They are front closure with "A" cups, which my tiny breasts barely overflow. When I wear a bra (which is often) I wear elaborate silver nipple shields. That thought in mind I pulled my gown off and sat down at my dresser (another item that got Sheila's dander up) to install them. When they were new the barbells in my nipples were difficult to remove and replace. These days I've graduated to 10-gauge studs and they are stimulating to remove and replace. My nipples must be pulled through the shields before the studs are put in place. That task finished I stand and admire my beautiful slender body made more perfect by its feminization. The thought occurs that covering this creation would be in bad taste. So I decide to finish my packing in the buff, but something is needed. I have a fat black butt plug from which two-feet of chrome plated chain dangles. I run to the bathroom and make the exchange. When I return to my packing the chain bangs the backs of my legs and wiggles the plug. I pack a white bra and keep one out. My dress is lovely, but I'll describe it later. It goes in a hanging bag. I'll wear a highly starched, white, man-style shirt and white shorts to the Motel. A yellow scarf will add some color at my throat. White leather flip-flops with ?" heels show off my new French tips. I get short of breath just thinking about wearing this outfit, about going outside in it, about being seen in it, about talking to someone in it. A trip to the kitchen with my tail jangling is rewarded with a shot of Scotch made civil with a splash of soda. Then it is back to packing. My restraints and paddles are kept in their own case. My skin burns as I place the case in my bag. I willingly provide Fred with the tools to hurt and humiliate me. I'd like to say no to my madness, but instead I caress it and eagerly await its evil spell. My makeup case fits snuggle inside my bag accompanied by a two-quart enema bag and a feminine sprinkle. My dress shoes are in a cloth bag. I include a yellow two-piece swimsuit and yellow wedge-heal sandals. The last item is my gift to Fred and my case is ready to go. Since childhood "dressing up" has been my greatest thrill. My mother's tangerine shorty nighty flickers in my mind as I slip my arms into my bra pull it across my chest and snap it shut. After I replace my dangling chain with a tampon, my powdered genitals rest comfortable inside my gaff. My panties are more natural than my skin. Each button on a girl's shirt is special when you're a guy. Shorts seem even shorter when they zip in the back. Somehow my yellow scarf reminds me of a boy scout. Dressed like this I guess I am scouting for boys. I comb my hair in a normal male style, put a tiny gold stud in the upper hole in each ear and fill my purse. Purses are uniquely feminine. This one is a white leather shoulder purse with a big non-functional yellow bow. I carry a small jewelry bag, my wallet and keys, a delicate handkerchief, two tampons and twenty condoms. A last minute look in the mirror revels a trim reasonable nice looking male in feminine attire, an obvious bottom, and an obvious tranny. It was just the look I wanted. I loaded my suitcase and wig case in the trunk of my convertible, donned a pair of sunglasses with big, round, white plastic frames and set off on my adventure. Chapter Three My first stop is the grocery store down the street from our house. Shelia would faint if she knew I was going into "her" store dressed like this. She would assume every person she knew would see me, think I was gay and never speak to her again. Of course, the likelihood of seeing someone I knew was remote, but my heart didn't seem to realize that, it was pounding out of my chest as I swung my bare legs out of the car. I had to pause a moment before I stood. I had a shopping list in my purse, but Fred required me to spend at least 30-minutes in the store. He wanted a cheese ball, beer and crackers. For their embarrassment value I was to buy a box of super tampons and two boxes of condoms. I also had some items I needed including a large jar of honey, fresh flowers, plastic cutlery and small paper plates. I decided a slow trip through the store pushing a cart was the best way to use my time. After my heart rate dropped, I began to enjoy the trip. One guy actually came up behind me and patted my ass with his wife three-feet away. I got a couple of soft whistles and the sack boy complimented my toenails. The good news was nobody followed me to the parking lot and kicked my ass so all and all it was a fun trip. My next stop was a mandatory trip to the mall, I didn't bother telling Fred I was a mall rat. I was supposed to visit at least ten perfume kiosks and shop for a new fragrance at each. The hook was that I was to go to the men's room and wash the odor off between visits. I was to linger in the men's room and establish eye contact with every male that visited. If they made an offer I was to comply. On my fourth trip a college guy asked if I had real tits? I allowed him to reach inside and find out for himself. The nipple shield startled him, he mumbled something and left. He must have followed me around because on my seventh trip he was back and this time he had a buddy. "Do you suck cocks?" the buddy asked straight out. "Yes, Sir," I replied. The sir got him going. "I want you to suck mine." Then as an after thought he added, "And my friend's." "Yes, Sir," I said as I turned and walked to the handicapped stall at the end of the row. I was on my knees when the buddy entered the stall. I helped him open his jeans and pull his cock out. I put a condom in my mouth and by the time I rolled it down his shaft he was ready. Bringing a young man off is easy and I am very good. I sucked him hard and deep, fondling his balls and rubbing his chest. When I reached between his ass checks he blew like a gusher. He'd been in my mouth less than two minutes. College guy was shaking like a flower in a storm, but his meat was extraordinary. Long and fat it was more than a mouthful. I didn't give him a time to think. I put a condom on him, stood and turned around. "Please unzip my shorts." He did and I stepped out of my shorts, panties and gaff. Had I asked him to pull out the tampon, I'm sure he would have run like a gazelle. Instead, I put the foot closest to him on the toilet and slowly removed the cotton cylinder. Both feet on the floor and my back to him I bent at the waist exposing my hairless pink pussy. Even a college boy knew what to do from there. The lubricated condom glistened as it found a home. He started in slowly then reached for my hips and pushed home. His cock had probably never been in such a warm tight spot. I didn't count but I don't believe he made as many strokes as he was years old. Once he was satisfied, the heat of the moment gave way to shame, he jerked the rubber off, threw it in the toilet and left without cleaning himself. I on the other hand, I had some cleanup to do. Using toilet paper and water from the toilet I cleaned my pussy, put a fresh tampon in and put my shorts and underwear back on. I had dirt on my knees, but soap and water from the lavatory fixed that. I repaired my tan lip-gloss, combed my hair and went back to shopping. My next trip to the men's room found a security officer waiting on me. I'm not a conspiracy theorist, but sometimes it seems like big brother is watching. He wanted some identification. We went through the whole "why do I have to give you ID" conversation, but he persisted. He puffed up like a blowfish when I opened my purse to show him my ID. I think he puffed up in lieu of thinking up something to say. His next trauma was my simple explanation that I had come to the men's room to wash the perfume of my wrists. He left the room without telling me not to feed the animals or suck their cocks. My last two trips were uneventful and I'm almost embarrassed to say that I settled on Britney Spears Fantasy perfume, but that was the choice. As I was leaving the mall, "The Buddy" saddled up beside me and told me he needed a repeat. I was only obligated to suck cocks I met in the men's room and Fred hadn't told me to do repeats. I told the idiot I'd meet him in the men's room at the other end of the mall. The last time I saw him he was following his dick in that direction. The wind in my hair and up my shorts was refreshing as I headed to the motel. It was an older low-price place selected specifically because I could get an outside first floor room. I knew why this was important, but I didn't want to think about it now. I was only a few hours from love. The lady on the front desk was put off by my appearance and my purse, but resisted the temptation to comment about my use of the room. She put me on the backside of the complex without my asking for that area. I moved my stuff into the room, got some ice and iced down the beer. I also put the cheese ball in the cooler. I went up front and borrowed a tablecloth for the small table in our room. I set the table next to the only lounge chair in the room. I put the flowers, plates and cutlery on the table. It was time to get in the tub and time for more deep douches. The room and tub were small, but the water was hot and I had scented oils for this session. I got the bardex in place and inserted two-quarts of warm soapy water into my body. I soaked in the warm slick tub water as the soapy solution wreaked havoc inside me. By the time that first douche was expelled I really wanted a second. Even the third one didn't satisfy my hunger but time was getting away. I put a tampon in me mostly to soak up residue. I put lotion on my arms, legs and torso and lay down for a moment to cool down before I dressed. It was time. Out came the tampon - then lying on my tummy and utilizing the feminine sprinkle I pumped my pussy full of honey then plug it. Bluish green eyeliner enhanced my eyes. Red lip-gloss was over-the-top, but required in this instance. My garter and hose preceded my gaff and panties for obvious reasons; my bra followed them. My shoes are yellow single banded strappy sandals with ankle straps and 4-inch heels. My dress is a white shirt-dress that buttons all the way up the front. It has big yellow spots and a three-inch matching belt. I'm allowed four rings and a silver necklace. I'm required to wear one stud and two loops in each ear. With my wig in place, I'm a pretty transvestite. I walked around outside our room watching normal people go about their normal lives. I could have walked away. I knew what was coming. Is it better to have loved badly than never to have loved at all? Fifteen minutes before Fred was scheduled to arrive I set the cheese ball, crackers and Fred's present out. While I sat on the bed, classical music from the small radio added drama to my wait. A rap on the door jerked my into the present and launched me toward the door. Fred was framed in the opening. Dressed in gray slacks and a navy blazer he was sophisticated and beautiful. Offering me a single yellow rose he said. "Jamie, you are more lovely than my gift." I melted into his open arms and offered myself. His lips were firm and warm, his embrace patient. When he broke the kiss he moved to my neck. His lips sent a charge through my nipples and I purred instinctively. "I love you." The moment broken he stepped into the room and shut the door. "I love you too." He removed his coat, handed it to me and took a seat. "I'd like a beer and you in my lap." A rapid respond team would have been proud of my time as I smoothed my skirt and settled into his lap beer in hand. "Your beauty is only exceeded by you willingness to serve," he said as he held me and presented me with another more urgent kiss. "I want you, but let's go slowly the night is young. Besides, who's the present for?" Sliding to the floor at his feet, I hand him the box without a remark being careful to run the back of my hand across his crouch. "Flirt," he said. "Meany," I responded. Fred took a sip of his beer and began to open his gift. "Oh, baby. It's wonderful. We'll put it to good use later," he leaned over and kissed me then added. "Walk around for me." I stood and walked back and forth the length of the room, the sway of my hips a practiced precision. "Now, slowly remove your dress and show me again," he said. Fred had furnished me some videotape from a Club Tiffany depicting what he liked in a strip tease. Every move was burned into my brain just for this moment. I followed the slow rhythm of the music to Fred's delight. "Lose the panties," Fred said in a whisper. "Your wish is my command my love," I said as I slowly responded. After several minutes I stood straddling his legs. He rubbed his hands across my tummy the pressed my navel ring. His touch was soft and gentle. "Remove the gaff." This time my gyration when on through two songs and ended with me bent at the waist and facing away from him. He tapped my butt plug with his forefinger then rose and said. "I'm ready." I carefully removed his shirt and trousers and hung them on the chair. He wore no underwear, so when I knelt to remove his socks and shoes his cock was against my cheek. I turned my head and swallowed him. Hours of practice with a dildo made taking him deep in my throat as easy as eating marshmallows, but there is no thrill like having the man you love inside you. After a few delicious moments he withdrew his cock. It was stiff and pulsing. He pushed me backwards onto the bed. With my legs in the air he removed the plug and replaced it with his cock pushing deep inside me in a single move. We lay still as he kissed my neck and whispered in my ear. Then he began to love me. Slowly at first with my clitty stick trapped between us. As the pace increased I rose to meet him. No man ever fucked a woman more completely. We glistened with sweat. I was bouncing off the bed and begging him to fuck me harder when he began to come. As his libido fell Dr. Jekyll turned into Mr. Hyde. Fred withdrew from me, walked over and slumped naked into the chair. He stared at me as he drank his beer. The music fell to the floor unable to pierce the thick silence. "Get me a beer," Fred said. I obeyed quickly. When I handed him the beer he handed me a small paper plate. "Squat right there and empty your ass," Fred said pointing to a spot just to left of his knee. The task seemed simple, if diabolical. I complied quickly. The puddle of honey and cum was tinted red and dirty. I handed Fred the plate. He sat it on the table and said. "Clean my dick." Under different circumstances I'd have been thrilled, but as I positioned myself between his legs and began to lick - I felt like a human bidet. He nonchalantly ate cheese and crackers while I worked. I could see him spread some of my discharge onto a cracker. "Have a cracker you fucking slut," he said. It tasted like honey. As I returned to my cleaning task it occurred to me that maybe If I aroused him I could find Dr. Jekyll again. A camera flashed. Then in quick succession two more heavily laden crackers were offered to me and I ate them. It occurred to me that his point was made with the first cracker, but I had not spoken a word since he withdrew from me. On one of our previous dates I had spoken without being spoken too. I was still in my bra, garter, hose and heels. Bored with the tongue bath he said. "Put on your bathing suit and get rid of the wig. You won't need shoes or makeup." A dressing area leading to the bathroom afforded some privacy. My swimming suit fit beautifully and accented my curves. I removed my wig and brushed back my hair with my fingers. I took a chance and touched up my lip-gloss. Barefoot and beautiful I bounded around the corner to the main area, Fred was dressed and standing by the door. He walked out and I assumed I should follow. A chain link fence separated the motel property from the Interstate. Underneath one of the powerful lights along the fence line Fred stopped and faced me. He looked as if he smelled garbage. "On your knees," he said. I obeyed. He unzipped his pants, took out his cock and began to pee - on me. He drenched my head then told me to open my mouth. I drank the remainder of his golden offering. When he was finished he said. "I'll be back in one hour. Be clean and dressed as you were when I got here." Chapter Four I brushed my teeth, washed my hair and soaked in a hot bubble bath with the shower curtain pulled. I found what I always found. You can wash piss off, but you can't wash off being pissed on. As I floated in the steamy warmth with a rubber dildo inside me and clips biting my nipples I was able to jack my little weenie off and return to a pleasant fantasy world. When I finished my bath and started to dress the magic began. A lacy bra soothed my nipples. A garter, hose and heels lifted me up. A gaff and lace panties hide my secret. With my wig in place and my makeup complete a beautiful woman smiled back at me from the mirror. My jewelry and freshly pressed dress added class and dignity. I had fifteen minutes. I don't really smoke, but I walked across the street to a convenience store and bought a cigar and an adult beverage. The long black stogie seemed small between my lips and provocative. On my way back to the room I walked along the fence by the Interstate. Underneath one of the lights there was a damp spot on the ground. I was waiting patiently when Fred returned. His demeanor had not improved. "Get your restraints out." I got the case he wanted out of my bag and laid its contents out on one of the two double beds in our room. He pointed to the other bed and said. "Lay down on you stomach and try not to mess up your dress." One of the items in my kit was a ping-pong paddle covered in white leather. I felt my skirt being lifted, but I wasn't braced for the first blow that landed. As painful as it was the tenth was much worse. "Are you a filthy cock-sucker?" "Yes, Sir," I answered. It was a poor conversation, but better than none. The paddle took a savage bite. "Are you a cum slut?" "Yes, Sir." "Are you an unfaithful whore?" "Yes, Sir." Each answer brought another stab of pain, but he did seam to be winding down. "Do you enjoy being a public toilet?" "Yes, Sir." "Do you crave cock?" "Only yours, Sir." That answer set him off. He hit me three times in a row quick. "Get up," he said at a near scream. I stood, eyes down and straightened my skirt. He walked over, slowly forced my chin up and then kissed me softly. I melted into his arms. He broke our kiss long enough to whisper. "I love you JJ." My answer was smothered. "I can't control my rage," he said. "If you continue to see me, I'm going to hurt you - badly." "I don't care." I said with tears in my eyes. "Are there any beers left?" "Yes, Sir." "Let's have one," he said. I sat on the bed across from Fred and we had a drink together. He studied me as if I were a piece of art before he said. "You're really pretty." Before I could thank him he said. "I'll never hurt your face." That comment took my breath. "Stand up," he said. All my restraints are expensive, made from carefully stitched white leather. He began with my collar. It is 2.5" wide and like all the pieces in this set it has "D" rings every 90 degrees. The waist cincher laces in the back, Fred pulled it tight drawing my already small waist down and adding flare to my hips. The strips for my wrists and ankles buckle snuggly. The accessories are also well made. A chrome steel rod 24-inches long with a swivel and an eyebolt on each end was attached to my ankle straps with small locks. Six-inch chrome chains attached my wrists to my waist cincher, again with a pair of small locks. A pair of nipple clamps on long silver chains were attached to the front of my collar. You guessed it - with a lock. They can't be used effectively without opening my dress and unhooking my bra, but I know that when they are set in place over my nipple inserts they'll send me a message. My leash snapped into the same "D" ring on the front of my collar. I was rendered helpless. Chapter Five Many things about being a girl will forever be a mystery to me. I don't know if a biological girl would be embarrassed about going out in public as a slave. I think I was at first, but nobody really cares even the cops ignore you. The reality is I am a slave and I'm comfortable with that. I don't really know why we ever left Egypt. There's a "Yuppie" bar downtown Fred enjoys dragging me through. We parked and walked, or hobbled in my case, through the patio without entering the inside area. Everyone stares but that doesn't concern me, my immediate challenge when I'm out in public is to avoid a trip the restroom. Fred ordered a fish bowl size frozen margarita and gave me a sip through a straw. I was helpless you know. Fred left the table and that always attracts some drunken do-gooder (normally a woman) that wants to come to my rescue. This one was petite and very cute. In my most subservient whisper I told her how devoted I was to his big cock. This normally sends them screaming, but Julie (she introduced herself) sat down for some detail. She said she was a top and ran her hand up my leg. She found what she wanted and said. "Just as I suspected. I'm going to put my card in your purse - call me. If I don't hear from you tomorrow, I'll track you down." As she stood, she slapped me hard across the face, smiled and said, "Pervert." Fred had been watching and reappeared. "New friend?" "No, Sir." His voice was low. "You lying cunt. You can't wait to bury your nose in that stinky hole." He rummaged through my purse and found the card. Looking at Julie he tore it in little pieces. I had to assume he would find the one in my panties later. "I was going to cut you some slack, but not now," Fred said. Sure, I thought to myself. He removed a penis gag from my purse, dipped it in his drink and held it high for all to see before pushing it into my mouth. It only irritated me because the straps messed up my wig. He jerked me up and strode toward the car. I had a hell of a time staying upright in heels with a less than 2-foot stride. He dove out the interstate about ten miles and pulled into a truck stop with a tall neon sign that read Adult Books. He left me helpless in the convertible while he made arrangements inside. It was like chumming the water. Truckers appeared from everywhere. Some of the guy's were regulars and knew who I was, others were just horny in either case I was the cherry on top of their chocolate sundae. We had a filthy double booth. Fred could watch porn, control the money and keep an eye out for undesirables. I would be on my knees for the evening my beautiful white dress and hose ruined, but I'd be lying if I said I was disappointed. Fred wouldn't let them hurt me or force me into unprotected sex. I loved sucking cock and I was about to get my fill. Fred set up a digital movie camera and lights then he repositioned my restraints so that my wrists were attached to my ankles. As he removed the gag he said. "Say one fucking word and I'll leave you here. Do you understand what that would mean?" I shook my head vigorously. "You'll suck some cocks, that's all and everyone will wear a rubber. After all I don't want you to give me some disease, but if I tell you to kiss their ass you better pucker up." Over the next couple of hours a parade of dicks came calling. They paid Fred and used my mouth as a masturbation machine. The rubbers tasted bad and my body was getting stiff, but every time a man climaxed with my help I felt more feminine. They were focused on their needs, but they thought I was a beautiful wonton woman. Most were as gentle as they could be under the circumstances. Fred watched me perform when he wasn't gaping at the lesbians on the TV. He took his turn with me once and gave me a tasty glob of cum. The manager wanted to fuck me and get a tape of the event. Fred agreed to a price and removed the rod between my ankles. There was a carpet- covered shelf at one end of the room that served as a seat. They propped me against it, pulled up my skirt and pulled down my panties and gaff. The manager objected and said he thought I was a girl. I was sort of flattered. Fred convinced him I was better than pussy and gave him a discount. Manager man was well hung, but not uncomfortable big. He fucked me slowly until the climax was near then pounded away. He filled his condom then withdrew. I was glad the ordeal was over and looked forward to a hot bath. Fred removed the restraints on my wrists and ankles. It felt great to stretch. He unsnapped my leash and told me he would meet me in the car. It had been a wonderful date. I was already looking forward to the next one. One of the truckers brought me a beer; I leaned my seat back and was almost asleep when Fred arrived. He said he would wait if wanted to use the restroom. I went to the ladies room, removed my garter and hose and cleaned my knees. My dress was a mess, but okay. I used a stall to relieve myself and clean my pussy. I rejoined Fred and we left the truck stop, but instead of heading for the motel he turned eastward toward the county line. Chapter Six It took nearly 30 minutes to arrive at the elaborate gates to a large farm. We were checked through and we parked near a large metal building. Fred turned to face me and while he reinstalled my restraints he said. "The Roman gladiators had a saying - those who are about to die salute you. You should say it now." The instruction when over my head with all that was going on. "Say it," Fred screamed at me. "Say what, Sir?" "Those who are about to die salute you." "Those who are about to die salute you," I mimicked. Fred pulled me out of the car and hustled me in a side door. What I saw was a circus. There were several what I could identify as slaves. There were elaborate mechanical devices. Everyone but me was in some kind of leather or vinyl. There were whips and ropes and hoods. It was mind- boggling. A huge muscular man dressed in an Egyptian outfit approached Fred and said. "You can put it over here Master Fred." I was sure I didn't like being referred to as an - it, but it frightened me when the huge man helped Fred chain me to a wall by me collar. Never in my life had I heard of anything like what was going around me. Fred walked away without so much as a fair thee well. Thoughts of snuff films crowded into my mind. Two young trannys were yoked together at the neck and lead away. I couldn't see what was happening but there was subdued applause followed by a long period of silence. I've been hurt badly and been in a lot of pain, but when the screams started in the other room it was as bad as anything I had ever done. Unable to see I could only imagine what they were doing to my sisters. I'm not a religious guy, but I closed my eyes and said the only prayer I knew - Lord, please help me get out of this mess and I'll never do it again. The shrieks from the other room nearly overwhelmed my concentration on the silent, but vehement prayer. Looking around the circus was certainly not encouraging. Young slaves were writhing in fear and pulling against their restraints. Bulky Egyptian look-alikes were circulating among us and whipping every thing that moved. I was stiff and pressed to the wall. I had not been hit, but I shared the fear that permeated the room. I never saw Julie approach. "We meet again," Julie said as she ran the back of one of her fingernails over my cheek. "Please release me," I blustered. "Not my call, Sugar," Julie said. "I'll serve you forever," I said. "I think you're married. How are you going to serve me when you're married to some strait bitch?" "Please, I'll get rid of her." "Kill her?" Julie asked with increased interest. "Can I watch?" "Please." "You are the main event tonight. I can't wait, but if you survive and you want a compassionate Mistress remember this. I'd never bring you to a place like this and there are a lot worse places." "Mistress Julie, I'll do anything you want starting right now." She produced a pen and paper and asked. "Where do you work?" I had no hope other than Julie so I told her. "I'll see you Monday morning." She said as she turned to leave. Then she added over her shoulder with a beautiful smile. "If you survive tonight." One after another various subservients and their attendants left the central marshalling area where I was still chained to the wall and the circus type atmosphere gave way to order then solitude. I became numb to the screaming from the other room. Finally, it was my turn. Two Nubians removed me from my fragile sanctuary and lead me to an imposing appliance. It consisted of two chrome rings about 8-feet in diameter. They were welded together with four bars that spaced them approximately 4-feet apart. My handlers began by attaching my ankles to two of the bars. My legs were stretched apart and when they rolled the rings 180-degrees I was hanging upside down by my ankles and my dress fluttered down covering my face. The men attached my wrists to the other bars and they rolled me to an upright position. I was suspended like da Vinci's vitruvian man only I was a lot cuter. One of the men said. "The more you scream the less pain we will have to inflict." It was a casual remark. He might have been talking about my favorite flavor of ice cream. As I was rolled into the arena I caught my first views of the setup. It was intimate with three rows of stadium seating close to the stage. Fred and Julie were among the twenty or so observers comfortably ensconced in high backed chairs. Three unclothed Asian women were video taping everything from different angles. There were live feeds to a dozen or more monitors on the walls. The two men pounced on me so quickly and violently I did scream. I had my waist cincher on, but they ripped open the bodice of my dress and tore away my bra. In the process they scratched my skin. Fear and pain set off a cascade of screaming and jerking against my bonds. The attack moved to my skirt. They ripped it open and my panties gave way easily. The gaff was another matter; in the process of getting it off they hurt my genitals. I was now yelling uncontrollably. One of the handlers slapped me hard and the attack was over. With the calm deliberation of an undertaker they began to work on me. They put electrode patches on my chest and legs and a blood pressure cuff on my left arm. All this had an eerie effect. The last item they put on me was similar to the blood pressure cuff except that they fit it around my neck. Back in undertaker mode they laid the rings down so that I was facing the floor. It was a strain but I could see the first man undressing. His cock was very long and slender. The drill was simple I was to deep- throat this foot-long hot dog for the pleasure of the audience. For me it would be fun. I had no gag reflex left and he was much smaller than my throat. With a camera in my face he fucked me for what seemed like a long time then dumped a load deep inside me. I was as bored as the watchers. The second man was huge and hard. Number one attached wires and tubes to me, as number two was made ready. One of the girls slide a leather sheath peppered with metal studs over his cock. It laced up on the bottom. She pulled the laces tight and tied the excess around the base of his cock. It looked like a telephone pole complete with spikes. He walked around behind me and I watched on TV as he positioned himself. He was lubricated, but no amount of lubricant would allow that pole in my pussy. I've seen pictures of people with huge things shoved up their backside, but I assume they worked up to what ever it was a little at a time. If I had time or he was patient maybe that thing would have fit. He was impatient and forced himself inside me. I would have yelled the rafters down, but whatever was around my neck started to swell. I felt faint and my ass was ripping. On the monitor I could see I was bleeding, but then I was out of it. When I regained consciousness I was in excruciating pain, the cuff around my neck was tightening again and I was very lightheaded. I felt drunk, but then I was gone again. I was aware of the pain and a prostate driven orgasm before I fainted. I saw my bloody pussy on TV and was out again. I have no idea how long this went on, but I finally regained my senses and found myself being put in the trunk of Fred's car. I was a bloody cum soaked mess and my beautiful clothes were in a shambles. I had on some type of diaper. The next thing I remember I was in bed in the motel room and Fred was watching me. "How about a drink?" he asked. "Scotch, please," I responded. Scotch on the rocks didn't stop the pain, but I was glad to have it. I was on my back and my legs were attached to the legs of the bed. Fred took my drink and attached my arms to the legs of the bed as well. He put the penis gag in my mouth and tightened the straps around my head. "Thanks for the Electro-Sex Gear. It was a perfect gift I've always wanted one," Fred said as he pushed a metal cylinder inside my pussy. He attached a wire to each of my nipples and shoved a slender tube inside my cock. After he had taped everything in place he hit me with the first jolt. I jerked violently. I couldn't help it. "I've set it for random, but it wont hit you more than twice in ten minutes," Fred said as he turned out the lights and left the room. Chapter Seven The next morning the maid banged on the door for several minutes before she ventured in and it must have been quite a sight. I'm sure her first thought was to get the manager, but she put a towel over my cock and removed the gag. She didn't speak much English and I was delirious. I asked her not to call anyone and offered her $200.00. The first order of business was to get the Electro-Sex machine turned off. It had already popped me twice and it scared my rescuer almost as bad as it hurt me. She finally just unplugged it from the wall. Small padlocks had me secured to the bed, but all she had to do was unbuckle the wristbands, which she did. I checked my purse for my emergency stash and found five crisp hundred- dollar bills. I paid the maid two and offered her another C-note for some type of clothes. She returned in a few minutes with a plain gray dress. She agreed to come back in an hour. I could only stand to about 50-percent of my height with my butt poking straight out. My asshole was ruined. I ran a hot tub and eased into it. Memories of the night before filled my mind and I was mad, but mostly at myself. That thin line between master and masochist had been crossed. I decided erotic asphyxiation or what ever they were doing to me without my permission was over the top. I could remember if I tried my safe word, but they wouldn't have known it anyway. I kept running hot water in the tub to keep the temperature up and before I knew it my hour was up. The maid agreed to another hour, she had to I could not get out of the tub. I started fingering my pussy and flaking off pieces of crusted something. I found I could flex the sphincter, which I thought was good so I slowly inserted one heavily greased finger. After another 20 or 30 minutes in the hot water, life after last night seemed possible I simply had to get going. I put a blob of Vaseline on the opening with a clean washcloth on top of that. The bottom of my two-piece held everything in place. My new dress and a pair of flip-flops finished my outfit. I was trying to get the place cleaned up and my stuff packed when my brain finally engaged - Sheila would already be home. I had no male clothes. I could go buy some, but I was trying to figure out the point. I had left my girly stuff all over the house. Sheila was going to kick my ass no matter what. (Oh shit, that was a bad thought.) I carried a load to the car - No Car. My car was gone, moved or stolen I didn't know, but I needed a plan. I got some ice and poured a beer over the ice. A stale cracker and the beer made for Sunday communion. I called Jenny and she agreed to come get me. Like a mother hen she came swooping into the room. "My God girl, what did that whack mother fucker do this time?" "I'm hurt real bad Jenny, but all I need is a friend." She walked over and hugged me. We kissed. It wasn't sex it was love. I couldn't remember when I had been loved by anyone. I clung to her as if for life. "I'm going to get some cold beer and we are going to talk," Jenny said. "About what, Jenny?" "About your wife and your real estate business and your taste in men." I laughed and it hurt. Residual damage from that shock machine I presumed. "That's just what the doctor ordered." Jenny came back with a suitcase and some ice and we started on the world problems. The drunker we got the better our solutions. We settled on confrontation with Sheila. Jenny wanted me to go to the mall and pick up a designer outfit. "I'll do your makeup. You'll look better than that stuck up bitch." As far as my business was concerned we decided a gay persona was just the thing to increase sales in the trendy upscale areas. I could wear women's business suits and flirt with the trophy wives. Into our second six-pack we were sure they all loved gay men and would relate better to a transvestite than a man. Our grand solution for men was to leave them alone. I told her about Julie. "Must you have a top bitch? Couldn't it be a frilly little thing in pink?" Jenny asked. "You mean like Holly?" I asked with a big grin. "You ever heard of do as I say not as I do." She said if I needed some practice muff diving I could start with her, but we both knew we had something better than sex. "Jenny, I know it's sick, but I have to have a sadist. I need the discipline." She held me tight and kissed me again. We had a quiet trip to my house. She held my hand as we pulled into the drive. My car was sitting there so we put my stuff in the trunk. Sheila started screaming obscenities. I picked up a bottle of Scotch from the bar, walked upstairs to the bathroom, went in and locked the door. Sheila pounded and yelled for a while. I settled into the Jacuzzi. My steamy surroundings and drunken state were perfect therapy. I thought about Fred - it was over. I thought about Julie. A chill ran through me because I knew it would end in disaster. I thought about Sheila. If she would accept my being a tranny she had the dominant gene pool. We could have a good life or so my clouded mind believed. Chapter Eight I never spoke to Sheila that night and she was gone when I finally ventured downstairs the next morning. I had a light breakfast. My ass was still hurting and I decided an enema was the best way to avoid a painful problem. Upon further consideration I settled on flooding my bottom with mineral oil. I also decided today was the first day of the rest of my life. I successful cleaned my pussy and put a tampon in myself. I shaved and brushed my teeth and got in the shower. I really didn't need to, but I ran o razor over my legs. Finished in the shower I put lotion all over my body and powered between my legs. Win lose or draw I was a tranny from this moment forward. The very thought took my breath - I was free. I put on my white gaff and tucked my clitty stick away. My lace panties were midnight blue as was the matching garter and hose with seems. I'd removed my nipple jewelry but my breasts were really cute surrounded by a midnight blue lace bra with "A" cups and a front closure. I wore a white man's dress shirt with my bra showing, but today would be the last time I would have my buttons on the wrong side. I wore a thin red and blue tie with the knot pulled down and the top button undone. I selected a tan suit with a navy pinstripe. Today would be the last time I ever wore trousers with a front zipper. Today would be the last time I wore a man's jacket. I wore no socks and today would be the last time I wore men's shoes. I'd start with ?" wedge heels and work my way up. I wore tiny silver studs in the upper holes in my ears. I didn't wear makeup, but I put a light pink gloss on my lips. I drove to work with the top down. I would let my hair grow and die it a pretty blonde. If my employees weren't happy with the change they could quit. If my customers weren't happy they could find another agent. If people thought I was gay they were definitely right. My office was I a glass front strip mall in the most affluent area in town. I liked looking out so I put glass partitions in the office. This required that the place be kept neat and orderly, which I also liked. I tried not to be self-conscious when I entered the office, but everyone in the place noticed my new look. Betty Lou, my secretary was the only one brave enough to ask. She had been with me seven years. We got some coffee and sat down at the round table in my office. I told her I was a transvestite and that from now on I would dress in a more feminine manner. She was surprised or more accurately shocked. She danced around the question for a while and sipped coffee. "Are you queer?" she finally asked. "Yes." She was stunned. She got up and left the room like a zombie except she wasn't holding her hands out in front of her. Little huddles sprang up among my ten employees and after about an hour Betty Lou returned. "Mr. Carter we have been talking." She normally called me Jim, but under the circumstances I understood the formality and the distance it created. "I noticed." "This is your company. If your personal life style doesn't hurt the business it's none of our concern. A couple of the women think the whole thing will actually be good in the long run." She alternated between rubbing her hands together and rubbing her hands on her skirt. "I hope we haven't offended you." "I'm glad to have it all out in the open. I assume you discussed the fact that it will get worse before it all settles down?" "Jim, what about Sheila?" Betty Lou asked. "I haven't talked to her yet." "I don't know if I can deal with this. I think you should get some help, but again it's none of my business." With that she shrugged and left my office. In an act of defiance I took off my coat and hung it on the rack. Now they could see my bra. I was practicing walking by putting one foot directly in front of the other, but I wasn't sure my hips were swinging. There are a thousand little differences between a man and a woman. I wondered if I'd ever learn ten. I couldn't seem to find enough work to look busy and everyone seemed to be staring at me and I wasn't yet ready to bark at them dressed in girl's clothes. I saw the car pull up and the long slender legs get out. It was Julie. "I'm here to see Jamie. She's expecting me." Julie said as she walked past Betty Lou. Well, there it was. Jamie was born. Julie was wearing a charcoal suit with a thin gray stripe. It had a short fitted skirt. Her light gray shell had a boat neck and she wore onyx jewelry. Her hose were pale gray and her shoes were charcoal and white spectator pumps. I was sitting behind my desk probably with my mouth gaped open. She stopped half way between my door and my desk. Everyone was watching. "Hi, Jamie. I really like the outfit." "I'm going to get some better suits this afternoon." "Like I'm wearing?" Julie asked. "Except I'll need pants." "How about shoes? Do you like my shoes?" Julie asked. "Yes they are elegant." "Come over here, get on your knees and kiss them." I rose and walked around to face her. "Please, not in front of my employees." "If they stay they will be my employees and you may never see them again. Now - down bitch." I sank to my knees and kissed the tops of her shoe. "That's a good girl. You may go back and sit at the desk." Julie said. When I was seated she continued, "I'll have my lawyer arrange your divorce. That bitch will get nothing. She (Julie's lawyer) will also arrange the sale of this business to me. You'll be my house keeper." "Julie, I'm not going there." She walked around and stood in front of me leaning back against the desk. She worked her skirt up until I could see the crouch of her panties. "You want me to leave forever?" There was a long silence. Her eyes were locked on mine. Neither blinked until I said, "No." "Move the panties aside," Julie said. I did and her beautiful shaved cock fell out. "I've had so many hormones it's not much to look at anymore, but you'll learn to love it. Now, put it in your mouth or say goodbye to me forever." I looked out at my employees before I leaned forward and kissed my new master. She put her hand on my head, ruffed my hair and said, "That's a good girl. You're going to love our new life together and don't bother with pants you'll be passable in less than 90-days. With your beautiful new body I'll teach you something new about the S in S&M. Boys just can't get enough of girls like us."