Patriot Games Part 4 free porn video

This is the continuing saga of a submissive mild-mannered computer software salesman, who has been drafted by HLS to go undercover as a female impersonator. The first phase of his training has been completed, and a professional dominatrix has picked up where his wife left off. Stay tuned for the rest of the story, as our agent finally makes contact with the story's TRUE villain. A NOTE REGARDING THIS STORY: This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters depicted in the story to actual individuals is coincidental. All events are the sole responsibility of the author. None of the scenes in this story depict minors engaged in any sexual encounter. Everything within this story is exclusively my labor and a product of my warped imagination. Any sentence structure, spelling or grammar errors are solely my responsibility. They were made of ignorance and not from lack of effort on my part. Chapter 16 Her words cut Jack to the core; however, he managed to stumble outside. To prevent any further embarrassment Jack replaced his wig and re-positioned the breast enhancer. He Stood up straight, gripped his purse and Rose's hankie and struggled for the several blocks to their vehicle. The hike to the parked car seemed to take an eternity. Jack cried so hard the tears threatened to dig furrows in his make up. Finally reaching his vehicle, Jack sat behind the wheel for several minutes and tried to understand why Rose, the woman he loved, the woman he trusted would humiliate him like this. The tears made it impossible to drive. Jack stared down at his left hand and his new ring. He started to take it off and throw it away. However, something made him stop. I am a man of my word; I promised I would wear it, so I will. If nothing else it will serve as a reminder never open my heart to another woman. It took another couple of minutes to compose himself. Jack's feelings of abandonment overwhelmed his emotions, they swung from sadness, fear, sorrow, to self-pity and finally settled in an over ridding burst of anger. For the first time in his life, Jack felt the need for a cigarette. Jack sat there smoking and quietly mumbled, "Maybe I will go home and just kill myself." Taking a last deep puff on the cigarette Jack flicked the butt out the window. Jack sat frozen in time, not moving a muscle loss in thought just staring straight ahead into a nearby park. Slowly, a thought percolated up through his conciseness, a snippet from an old Robert Frost poem, 'The woods are lonely, dark, and deep, but I have promises to keep, miles to go before I sleep.' Jake spoke to no one, in particular, "If I kill myself; that vindictive bitch would probably fuck her lover right there before my corps was even cold. No I will not give that whore the satisfaction of knowing she has completely destroyed me. Besides I have made a commitment to my country. If nothing else I am a man of my word." Using the hankie, Jack dried his tears, checked his face in the rearview mirror and started the car. Jack drove as cautiously through town as he could. He just wanted to get home and out of there before Rose and Mike showed up. 'I would die if I was there when they got home', thought Jack. How could Rose do this to me? This whole thing was her idea. I was sure she loved me. Well, I guess I am not the first guy in history to be betrayed by a woman. Damn it! She is still my wife; didn't our vows mean anything to her? I pledged my love to her and promised to love her until the day I die. As Jack sat at a traffic light waiting for it to turn green; a police car pulled up next to him. The policeman glanced over and made eye contact with Jack. His heart was beating like a wild drum, and he prayed for the light to change. The policeman rolled down his window and leaned out. "Miss is everything alright" was shouted toward Jack. Afraid to speak Jake merely flashed the concerned policeman his grade 'A' smile. The light turned green, and the police car turned left. A very relieved Jack, let out the breath he had been holding and cautiously drove home. Pulling into their driveway, Jack got out of the car. Looking back at the street Jack saw another police car cruse by. 'Just great that's all I need', thought Jack. Reaching the front door he fumbled with his keys, his heart pounding, his hands shaking, the long fingernails not making it any easier. Why won't those cops just drive on wondered Jack? The cops slowed down and watched what appeared to be a streetwalker. The driver turned to his partner. "Nah, it can't be, not in this neighborhood." They slowed down and watch the 'lady' until she disappeared inside the house. The squad car drove on. Jack breathed a sigh of relief as the car's taillights disappear into the night. 'How would I explain all this', Jack thought to himself. OK, let's get this over with. Stumbling on his high heels, he managed to get into the bedroom. First order of business is a suitcase. They are stored in the master bedroom's walk-in closet. Opening the door Jack is taken by surprise. All his male cloths are missing. 'Where the hell did Rose hide my real clothes, wondered Jack? Well first things first. I need to get out of here. Spying the suitcases on the top self, Jack realized he can't reach them, so he retrieved a chair from the office desk. He rolled it into the closet and prepared to use it as a stepladder. The first of many lessons hit Jack. Wearing a skirt and high heels created a whole new dynamic, when it comes to something like standing on a chair. To be safe, Jack decided he would take off his heels before standing on the chair. Bending over to undo the straps gave Jack a view of his massive breast hanging down. Damn those things seem to get in the way of everything, mumbled Jack (If Jack had known what the future held in store for him he would have had a completely different opinion of their size.) Jack found that with the long finger nails, shaking hands, and over tighten straps, loosening them proved to be a fool's errand. 'Damn her eyes', thought Jack, 'She intentionally over tightened these things. I can't get sufficient slack to undue them'. Giving up on the shoes, he managed to finally get up on the shaky chair. Jack had to stretch to reach the suitcase. Just as his hand closed on the handle, the chair started rolling. The chair picked up speed and Jack lost his balance, and panicked. One hand clutched the suitcase, with his freehand he reached for anything to steady himself. The only thing he could grab was a pile of Rose's underwear stacked on the shelf. The chair finally slipped out from under Jack. The law of physics took over and he dropped onto his ass. Jack crashed to the floor, again banging his head. He laid there waiting for his head to clear with a suitcase in one hand and a pile of underwear on his face. Laughing to himself, Jack though, now this brings back some memories. Scrambling to his feet, Jack violently threw his dresses into the opened case. The additional inches and tightly synched straps made a big difference, and the soft thick carpet of the throw rug raised the difficulty of walking in five-inch stilettos to a very dangerous level. Every step was a gamble. Jack wrestled the bag into the bedroom and started packing underwear. Again, the entire dresser contained nothing but frilly feminine attire. Jack didn't even try and separate what was his from Rose's. He just kept packing until the suitcase was full. Last stop, thought Jack, as he headed into the bathroom for toiletries, toothbrush and shaving gear. Rushing to complete this task Jack caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. What he saw was totally distracting, staring back at him was a stunningly sexy, beautiful - if over-endowed platinum blonde woman. Losing his concentration, Jack marveled at the small gold studs in his ears. 'Damn, she was right - the rich color of the gold really does enhance my new hair color', thought Jack. Shocked at where his mind was wondering, he reflected. 'Where did that come from?' Still admiring himself in the mirror, Jack stumbled and caught a spiked heel in the throw rug. Losing his balance again he grabbed out for anything to keep his balance. This time he found Rose's vanity table. Unfortunately, the table is an old antique and was unable to sustain his weight. For the second time in as many minutes Jack crashed to the floor. This time Jack landed among all of Rose's cosmetics. Jack comically fell on his posterior, right on top of his new perfume bottle smashing it into small shards of glass and a pool of aromatic fluid. Unfortunately, for Jack as he shifted to avoid the glass pieces his skirt acted as a large wick and soaked up the entire contents of the broken bottle. Our hero slowly stood and attempts to extricate himself from this latest mess, and now reeked of the sweet- smelling liquid. As Jack stood the remnants of the perform bottles contents trickled down his nylons filling his shoes. Jack looked downward and swore, "Damn that will probably ruin these shoes" Jack is again surprised at his thoughts. Opening the medicine cabinet to retrieve his toothbrush Jack saw four boxes of Rose's hormone patches. Well, the bitch may try to make babies with Mike but without these it ain't going to happen. I will show the slut; Jack threw all four of them in his suitcase. He dragged the case out to the car; closing the front door Jack thought the fresh air felt good. Plus it is helped to disperse the cloud of sweet-smelling perfume that continued to envelop him. Jack drove his car to the end of his driveway, checking for traffic, he spotted headlights coming down the street. "Shit, that can't be them already can it?" Stomping on the gas he sped away, Jack wondered 'Will I ever be back here again?' At the corner stop sign he paused to gain his composure and mumbled to himself, "Shit where am I going?" He looked and watched the car pull into his driveway. The thought of Rose with another man in their bed makes him nauseous. Jack thought, now of all those late nights at work and Rose accepting the sexual innuendos from Mike. It became clear. I wonder how long she has been fucking him. Hell this government undercover gig was just an opportunity for Rose to get rid of me. I wonder if those guys are really from the government or has this whole thing been a setup to embarrass me. Jack decided to call his HLS contact. He reached for his purse and searched for the phone he remembered throwing into it. He opened it, and dumped the contents on the seat. This produced another bout of tears. There among a pile of condoms and tampons is a pink wallet with a caricature of tinker bell on the front. "Shit, shit, shit", said Jack. Looking inside he found his driving license but no credit cards. Luckily she had included a wad of cash in the purse. Sorting through the pile Jack noticed a pink slim line cell phone. His old phone is nowhere to be found. Opening the phone he found someone had programmed all his contacts into the new phone. At this point he is so devastated he became violently ill. Rushing to the curb as the bile rose in his throat, he threw open the car door and stumbled out and fell on the roadside grass just as the vomit erupted. Jack quickly grabbed his hair to keep it out of the mess. Jack figured his world has come to an end; here he is on his hands and knees worrying about his hair and trying to keep his dress clean. 'What has happened to me', thought Jack. After the contents of his stomach have been expelled and the dry heaves had subsided, Jack wiped his mouth with the hankie Rose had given him. Walking back to the car from the grass Jack can't help but remembering Rose's incessant instructions one foot in front of the other, short steps, arms out, elbows in, fingers point out, wiggle the hips. Mince down the line smoothly, like a dancer. Glide, Heel-toe, heel-toe. In the few steps to the car Jack was surprised to find he enjoyed feeling the pull of my garters on his stockings. Jack staggered extra carefully, eyes locked on his feet. His hands extended, his elbow close at his sides, his slender fingers spread slightly, clutching at the air from time to time. He blushed furiously, as a car full of teenagers drove by spotlighting him with their headlights. A young punk rolled down his window and yelled, "Hey; twinkle toes want to party?" Ignoring the rude comment, Jack finally reached the security of his car. He climbed back into the driver seat and dialed his HLS contact. Jack told Steve he was ready to start right now. Steve has been waiting for the call and directed Jack to a safe house. Telling him someone will be there waiting for him. Chapter 17 The most terrifying words in the English language, "I am from the government, and I am here to help." Jack pulled into the parking lot of the apartment building he was told to go to. As he turned off his headlights, a young woman with a very purposeful and self-confident stride approached the driver side of his car. She yanked open the door. There stood a beautiful woman with long chestnut-colored hair that hung loosely about her shoulders. She had a wonderful bosom, her blouse offering a picture-window view of her cleavage. Looking in she said, "Who may you be!" "I'm Jack." With her arms crossed menacingly before her, this woman growled, "You don't look like any Jack I have ever seen. Got any ID?" Jack felt foolish as he said, "Yes, I have my driver's license here in my purse. Give me a second to find it. Damn these long nails." He reached into his purse, located his wallet and handed this woman his license. After a perfunctory scan, she casually flipped the license onto Jack's lap. Then with surprising strength she pulled the stunned Jack out and said, "Stand up let me see what we have to work with." Jack was disheveled; he felt helpless and weak as he stood before this confident and commanding woman. Jack meekly leaned against his car, waiting for further instructions. He was intimidated by this imposing figure standing tall in her four inch heels. She gave Jack a fierce stare and just started laughing cruelly. "Gez, honey, it looks like you have been crying; your makeup is a mess. You reek, what have you been doing bathing in perfume? I can see we have a lot to work to do. Hasn't anyone ever told you less is more? A woman needs to be restrained in the application of her make up and perfume. Remember a little dab will do you." Extending her hand she said, "Oh by the way, my name is Linda. It is good to get to meet you. I am from the government and was sent here to help you." She gripped Jack's hand in a firm and almost masculine manner, "I'm in training and development. I am your new 'Life Coach'. I specialize on makeovers from the inside out. When I get done with you, your own mother won't recognize you. As long as you don't get uppity, we will get along famously. Steve told me to meet you here and get you settled in your new home. I will show you around. We're going to have a long talk honey, but first let's give you the grand tour." Jack stood there like a blubbering idiot and was unable to put a coherent thought together. A timid Jack stood still and waited for events to unfurl. Linda, on the other hand, was bubbly and enthusiastic. Mustering every ounce of courage he had left Jack stammered, "Linda, I have changed my mind, I want to leave." After a brief belly laugh, in an authoritative voice she commanded, "You're not going anywhere darling; you have already passed the point of no return. Follow me, keep your eyes and ears open and your mouth shut!" Stumbling in his heels, Jack allowed this woman to guide him into his new life. Linda opened the front door to his new home. Jack was surprised to see an apartment with a very spacious living room. It had hardwood floors, and was mirrored on three sides. At one, end was a professional-looking treadmill. The rest of the room was sparsely decorated with a small television positioned before a settee and two hardback wooden chairs. Moving through the living room the couple toured a very modern and fully equipped kitchen and then a formal dining room, with a table and seating for six. The two-bedroom apartment, was nice but lacked that indescribable something that made a house a home. Linda pointed to the first bedroom door and advised Jack, he was never to enter her bedroom without specific instructions. The second smaller bedroom was his new boudoir as Linda put it. As Jack stood at the door and gaped at the overwhelming femininity of the space. The d?cor was surreal. It was so frilly a teenage girl would vomit. It was decorated in a pink floral motif, a canopy bed, adorn with a ruffled pink satin quilt, cream colored walls, even plush pink carpet and stuffed animals and containers of potpourri strewn everywhere. This was to become Jack's sanctuary, a prison without bars, guarded by a battalion of teddy bears. One wall was dominated by a huge dresser; Linda explained the drawers were filled with all the essentials for his new life. There was an eggshell white vanity, with a lighted makeup mirror and stool in one corner. Sitting on the table was a bottle of Daisy perfume in the middle of an overwhelming assortment of cosmetics. Jack wondered, 'What are the odds of having my perfume waiting for me?' One wall was nothing but a huge walk-in closet that contained Daisy's trousseau. Jack silently slide the door open to reveal a cupboard bulging with every conceivable type and variety of dress. Each one appeared as if it had come directly from the hippest boutique. The floor looked like a shoe store had exploded. It was littered with high-heeled shoes, everyone from Gucci, Prada or Jimmy Choo, and all with 5 inch heels. It was enough to make Imelda Marcos blush with envy. There were suede sandals, studded platform pumps, heels with bows, some with straps, some pointy toes, some with open toes, and a massive number of boots. Jack thought, 'It would take a year to wear them all just once. Lord I pray I am not here long enough to accomplish that feat.' Linda watched in amusement as Jack gawked at the multitude of shoes. Saying, "Sweetie you will wear every one of them before we are done." When they got to the bathroom, Jack found it was equipped with a Jacuzzi bath tub and a shower. Looking in Jack wondered about the two shower heads, one very conventional head height, and the other on a long flexible cord with a nozzle shaped with a slim cylindrical shape. Pointing at the phallic fashioned spigot, a smiling Linda said in a haughty voice, "It's for when you need to be clean inside and out. It will make you feel more feminine." Pointing to the sink, Linda directed Jack's attention to a bottle of baby oil and a pack of disposable razors. In a no-nonsense voice Linda commanded, "Shower and shave I will be back in a few minutes." Jack was confused, how did Linda know about the baby oil? A nude Jack exited the shower and found Linda standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a long flowing dressing gown and smelling like an English garden. Jack in some modicum of modesty tried to covered his male privates with one hand and his new breasts with the other. This produced a booming laugh from Linda. "Aren't we the shy one? Now my bashful princess come into the bedroom and get ready for bed, I will bet you are emotionally exhausted." As Jack entered his bedroom, a room that he immediately dubbed his pink prison. He inquired, "Linda just who the hell are you and why are you here?" "Who am I? Well let me tell you. I am the sheriff around here, and this is not my first rodeo! I don't tolerate crap. When I say something, it is not a suggestion it is the law. I do not give Mulligan's; nor do I take kindly to back talk." In a malicious tone, Linda added, "I am here for two reasons, first I am a patriot. I believe what you have been asked to do is in the best interest of our country. Secondly, I have agreed to supervise your training as a favor for a friend. As a rule, I am an independent contractor. For a fee, I 'reeducate' men. Normally, I try to avoid government jobs because there are too many rules and restrictions. However, in your case, your handler Steve, has given me carte blanche, I can use whatever measures I feel are necessary to prepare you for your mission." Linda took a step back and looked Jack over like he was a piece of meat, "We need to understand each other. I can be very loving when the situation warrants it. For example, Stevie your HLS contact and I have a history. Several years ago his wife hired me to - let's say 'adjust his attitude', but she got cold feet after a couple of days and cancelled the contract. But Stevie and I really hit it off; we even got to the point where we were sharing lipsticks. He stayed on his own accord for an extra week. "My God the sight of that man in a frock, fishnets and stilettos still gets my juices flowing. But that's enough reminiscing." "With a little luck maybe you and I can create our own memorable moments. Let me tell you right up front I am not running a charm school for debutants; my training is not for the squeamish. You will be trained to act like a lady in the parlor, a maid in the kitchen, and a whore in the bedroom. No one disrespects me, at least not more than once." An evil look came over Linda's features as she continued, "Let me caution you, when I don't get the cooperation I need I can be a bit draconian. I view my clients like wild Broncos; it is my job to break them. Last year, a client called me the 'Wicked Witch of the West'. He got a free pass on the first incident but the second time he called me that vile name; well, this witch rode her broomstick right up his ass." A gloating Linda went on, "My lord he squealed like a pig. He acted like it was the first-time anything had ever invaded his man pussy. It may have been the first, but it wasn't the last. He vowed to do anything if I stopped. So when I tired of my little game and was finished with him, I made him clean off the handle with his mouth. Then things got really interesting. He was so enthusiastic over his task, I decided to put his talented mouth to use. He 'volunteered' to become my personal bidet. He cleaned me every time I used the loo. I saved a fortune on toilet paper. It was a pretty shitty position but in the end, he even came to enjoy his down under position. He would spend minutes at a time just worshiping my anus with his tongue. The intimacy of such an action was thrilling, and his humiliation only amplified the experience. When I returned him to his wife, he was the sweetest, most humble wench you ever saw. I got an e-mail from her a short time back, thanking me. She was bragging on his housekeeping skills and told me he had become the best nanny in the neighborhood. She is working with her doctor boyfriend to see is she can turn him into a wet nurse for her new baby." Pointing to the lingerie on the bed Linda directed, "Put them on!" "Listen Linda, there is a misunderstanding. I agreed to dress as a woman to trap some terrorist, not move into some female draconian hell. I am still a man and expect you to treat me as such." An amused Linda calmly responded, "Daisy, yes I said Daisy, Jack no longer exists. Now drop all this masculine posturing, you checked your man card at the door. Within six weeks, you will have forgotten everything you thought you knew about being a man and will be begging me to wear the most feminine and frilly clothes available." What Jack saw sitting on the bed, sent a firestorm of emotions coursing through his exhausted mind. Artfully displayed on the gold-colored satin sheets were a set of almost obscene lingerie. On top was a black silk bikini panty and a matching Gossamer black lace chemise nightie, with two silver dollar sized daisies' strategically stitched where the wearer's nipples belonged? Jack just stood there dumfounded and didn't move. Finally Linda inquired, "Well you are going to wear these, aren't you? Daisy if you resist me on this, you will spend the next six months dressed in nothing but spandex and leather. Believe me Daisy you don't want to fight me. My last client tried that. He resisted everything I had him do. Usually once you get a man in diapers and a dress it's all over. But this wanker wouldn't give in, that is up until the time I had his tubes tied. Then it was... snip, snip... it's a mistake she never made again. I had them bronzed and added to my collection. His wife sent the chauvinistic pig to me in an effort to save their marriage. I returned the eunuch to his wife and two weeks later that ungrateful twit ran away from home. The cheeky bastard even had the nerve to ask his wife for alimony. When I catch up to her, she is going to be in for a very long night." A totally stunned Jack made no reply. "I don't normally ask twice?" A terrified, and utterly intimidated Jack responded, "Yes, I will wear them, but I don't want to." Chortling Linda responded "What you want means nothing to me. From this point on I am going to talk, and you are going to listen. There will be only one-way conversations. Consider your life as you knew it over. Daisy dear, when you leave me, you will be a woman albeit one without a vagina, but a woman in mind and spirit, forged in the crucible of my training." Jack was shaking visibly and spluttered, "Wh....What do you mean?" "You have no more free will. Your responses to stimuli will be those of a woman, not a man. Your mannerisms will be completely feminine. I will teach you to think like a woman, to respond like a woman, to desire feminine things. Womanly behavior will become an intrinsic part of your personality. You won't have to think about appropriate responses you will behave reflexively. You will only be concerned about looking beautiful and acting sexually. Your primary concern will be to satisfy your partner. Your life will be to serve. Your only happiness will stem from making your partner happy and satisfied. Anything less will be unacceptable. Is this understood? You may eventually even desire to become a woman, it has happened for me once or twice, but that is beyond the scope of my current training program." "Look upon me as your mistress. You will normally call me Ms. Linda. When we have company or are in a public, I expect you to use just plain Linda. Understand?" "Yes" "Yes what? Don't start off by misbehaving girl." "Yes Just plain Linda" "Touch?, but don't get feisty with me missy." Responded Linda. Then Linda laughed maniacally. "That's a good girl, now get dressed and into bed." Slipping on the gossamer nightgown produced a very manly reflex. The diabolical grin on Linda's face shriveled Jack's swizzle stick in a heartbeat. "Let's go over your daily agenda. When you first wake up, you will dress and prepare for your personal trainer. He will be here to lead you through a very strenuous series of exercises. I intend to have you develop a body that could win a beauty contest." "Ms. Linda you can't be serious; some stranger is going to see me like this?" "Of course I am serious my dear, I am merely the dean of discipline; I subcontract out all the specialty training. Just a word of warning, all my instructors are harsh disciplinarians and handpicked by me, there are no do over's for any of them. You screw up or show an attitude; well they all have authority to make corrections on the spot. After your morning training secession, we can have a quick bite to eat, a fast shower, and then we are bringing in a professional cosmetologist to help with your makeup skills. She is going to start you on a regiment of eyelash growth enhancers that are topically applied. Before I am done, you will have to trim your eyelashes." "After that I am bringing in an exotic dancer. She is going to teach you how to walk and carry yourself. Her trademark specialty is the stripper 'strut'." "You haven't been told yet; but you are being placed undercover as a cocktail waitress. So next instructor will be an ex-playboy club bunny, her areas of proficiency will focus on how to take and remember orders, how to load and carry a tray, how to flirt with the clientele while taking their orders. She will even show you how to handle all nature of unruly patrons. Hours will be spent on memory exercises, teaching you how to memorize who ordered what. Once you have picked up the basics, we will run you through an obstacle course here in the apartment. Daisy you will learn to carry a fully loaded try and maneuver around the obstacles, often while carrying on a conversation, arrive at your designated location and serve the drinks without any errors. I must warn you my favorite trick is to reach up and pinch you in the tush as you go by see if you can retain your composure and not spill." "Next I will bring in a beautician to educate you on how to do your hair. She will start by teaching you on your wig, and then as your hair grows she will school you on your own tresses. Than Daisy, my favorite, the bartender a real mixologist, will come right before dinner. He will show you to identify cocktail drinks by sight, and taste. Sorry, I know you are a wine drinker, but we won't go there. Your cliental are not into wine unless it is drunk out of a paper bag. Half the secession will focus exclusively on vodka, the types, differences, and of course, the tastes of each. The best part of this exercise is that we get to drink your homework. After, drinking class we will have a smoke break." Jack replied, "I don't like smoking and don't want to do it." This produced a snigger from Linda. She reached out and grabbed Jack by the ear and gave it a twist. "There you go again with 'I don't want', crap. Daisy, your wants and desires are totally irrelevant. The only thing that's important from this day forwards is what I want. Are we clear on that?" "To keep your culinary skills up, Daisy you will to make dinner every evening. I will expect a varied gourmet menu, while you, Daisy will be restricted to salads, backed fish, and chicken. Then for you the worst part of every day, for you. After evening cleanup, you will be walking on the treadmill. Daisy, in retrospect I am afraid that letting your wife work on your famine persona was a mistake. She taught you to walk like a lady by placing one foot directly in front of the other. As of now that is unacceptable. I am going to have to teach you to exaggerate your walk. You will do the cross over step by placing your foot 3 to 4 inches on the other side of center. This will get the undulation we're looking for. Short skirts and a tight halter top is my uniform of choice. I will pull my chair up behind you and judge your movements. I will always have my swagger stick handy, which is actually my own personal invention it is a cross between a 'stun gun' and 'cattle prod' depending on the setting. Any time there isn't enough wiggle in your waggle you will get poked in the butt. If there was insufficient tit bounce, you will be shocked between the shoulder blades. I never want to see a firm wrist, if your hands aren't properly flouncing around you will be shocked on the back of your arms. Let me tell you, piss me off, and you will be flopping like a one-winged goose trying for takeoff. The real challenge will come when you are required to carry a tray of drinks while performing your nightly promenade. Lord help you Daisy if you spilled a drink. Breaking a glass is punishable but getting probed in the nuts. After that has happened once, or twice you will wish God had never given you those accursed deformities. From my past experiences, it will take about a week for you to learn how to live up to my expectations, so these next few days are going to be a nightmare. Remember, think sissy at all times, and you may survive hell week. One more thing at all times on the treadmill you will be required to wear a teeth whitening mouth piece. I have found in addition to producing a winning smile this keeps the whimpering down to a reasonable level. Then we will finish every day with you take a nice soak in the tub, with plenty of fragrant oils to help soften your skin. Saturdays will be reserved for you to clean the house. A professional maid will be brought in order to supervise, remember training never ends." "Linda I can understand the purpose behind the other trainers, but why a maid? That doesn't seem anyway applicable to my mission." "You are correct, but I have a specialist, Matilda, on permanent retainer. Extensive maid training is a mainstay of my normal male remodeling regiment. The apartment needs to be cleaned. Bet your sweet ass, I am not going to do it, so you just got drafted. Sundays will be your day of rest. They will be reserved for your voice coach, a professional elocution teacher. Don't get too excited, he will not be here to prepare you to talk like a woman. His sole purpose is to give you a real girly giggle. I have decided that is going to be your special trademark. Dolly has her chest, Farrah Fawcett has her hair, and Daisy is going to have her bimbo titter." Finished with her introductory lecture Linda turned off the bedroom light and wished Daisy sweet dreams. Jack had a primeval fear of this woman, there was no doubt; she was a man-eating beast, and would devour his very soul at the slightest provocation. His dreams that night were anything but sweet they were dominated by visions of broom handles and bronzed trophies sitting on a mantel. At 6 AM, the next morning Linda opened the bedroom door and found Jack asleep on his bed in the fetal position with one arm tightly wrapped around a big plush teddy bear sucking his thumb. Linda walked in and said, "My, this is an interesting development. If I had the time we could have a lot of fun with this but for now stop sulking, get off the bed and grow up. Nobody cares about your breakup with your wife, or your concerns about lost manhood. If you are looking for sympathy the only place, you will find it around here is in the dictionary between shit and syphilis. My training methods bring a lot of physicality to the game. Accept it Daisy, hugs and pats on the back are going to be few and far between. Now put a smile on your face and let's get to work." Holding out a pink Lycra leotard, Linda helped Jack get dressed. "It's time for your exercise." After an exhausting workout and a quick shower, Linda rummaged through a drawer in the dresser and pulled out a pearl white steel boned corset with garters attached. She quickly wrapped it on Jack's waist and told him to exhale deeply. As he breathed out, Linda would pull in. After what seemed like forever, Linda was satisfied with the progress. She tied off the laces in the back. Jack's waist was now a svelte 25 inches. Two inches tighter than Rose ever squeezed him. Jack started to feel a little light headed. He was then told to sit down while Linda helped pull up white stockings. The front of each stocking had little roses embroidered on them. Linda clipped each onto a garter, making sure to tuck the garter through the panties so the panties were on top. Jack started to feel himself get aroused from the situation. Linda then attached his wonder bra. She added his silicon augmentations form the previous night. Stepping into open toed black sandals, Jack was ready for the first day under Linda's tender care. Wrapping himself in a silk dressing gown provided by his hostess, Jack inwardly smiled as the light sparkled off of his toe rings and red gloss toenails. Jack briefly admired the view of himself in the mirror, even without makeup and just his lingerie, he looked a lot like he has just stepped off the cover on Woman's Day Magazine. Linda escorted Jack's walk into the dining room where she had prepared their breakfast. For Jack, it was a bland breakfast of dry toast and coffee. Linda finished her meal of bacon and eggs and informed Daisy she will be gone for an hour or so. Daisy was told to clean up while she was out. His next appointment was with a well-known corsetiere so that Daisy could achieve the maximum benefit from time spent in those figure changing contraptions. The corset maker was going to be a little late and Linda had an errand to run. After putting the dishes away Jack was overwhelmed at his situation and crumpled at the table and cried until there was nothing left. In the interim....... Linda and Steve had a very heated disagreement in Steve's office. "Damn it Linda, remember this time you work for me." "I am telling you Steve, I am not comfortable administering all these drugs. That's not the way I work." "Linda this case is different from your normal venture. When Jack comes out the end of the training pipeline, he has to be a motivated, alert, confident agent capable of independent action. Not some beaten down sissy zombie. This case requires a combination of tactful delicacy mixed with a hard-fisted ruthlessness that you are famous for. We must first totally isolate our man from all outside contacts. Make him psychologically dependent on you. Then we can adjust his personality patterns through the use of drugs. Linda, there is nothing to worry about the U.S. Government has tested all of these pharmaceuticals and found them safe." "Yah, like 'thalidomide' didn't cause any problems! It was fully supported by the FDA." Reaching into a plain cardboard box, Steve withdrew three containers. "Linda, just take these and use them like we discussed. The yellow bottle has estrogen supplements; we confiscated them from a shipment bound for Thailand. Go easy on them, the lab boys tell me they are supper strength. A couple of capsules a week should do. The lavender bottle has strong female pheromones in them. Dilute a few drops of that in Daisy's perfume. Let's face it; this Jack character is never going to be a beauty contestant. We need to use every trick in the book to create a sexual attraction between Daisy and Vladimir. Smell and sex are entwined in a steamy vapor lock. Research has shown that scent is directly connected to human sexual attraction almost as strongly as vision. Our agent will need to stand out in a crowd. Wearing this stuff, most men will react positively. The difficult part is to get a strictly one-on-one intimate encounter, have Daisy always carry a spray bottle and to ensure the arousing effect we desire. If our subject can get Vladimir alone this compound will have Vladimir responding like a hound dog to a bitch in heat. The last clear bottle is a derivative of LSD. Mix that with his nightly Vodka and he will be extremely susceptible to suggestions. We have had a lot of encouraging results with behavior modification in Gitmo with that stuff." "Steve, this is where I have problems. I don't like all this psychological mumbo jumbo. I think behavior modification should be done the old fashioned way, with a carrot and stick. I won't try to change his personality with hypnoses and drugs. I just won't do it. Find someone else." "Relax; we're not trying to change his individuality. It took some serious arm twisting with his wife, but she finally came around to our way of thinking. We brook his emotional connection to her. Jack was so attached to his wife; he drew his emotional well being from that relationship. We had to force Rose to sever that connection, so we can mold him the person we need. His loyalty must solely be with you. It is an old military tactic of breaking a man down completely and rebuilding him the way we want/need. His wife has given us about a dozen emotionally significant events in his life. All we want to do is to reorient how he remembers them. We want to introduce cross dressing into his memoires. If he truthfully remembers these events, there is virtually no chance he will slip under examination by Vladimir. "You mean torture!" "Linda, every agent takes some physical risks." "His mission is to infiltrate Vladimir's inner circle of friends. Our surveillance can only go so far. Once Daisy is trained and in place, at a minimum, he will be able to provide us with updates, and descriptions of whom and where Vladimir encounters daily. We must determine who his sleeper agents are before they act. This country can't afford another 9/11. If we must sacrifice one poor schmuck to do that, so be it." Sliding a standard student size three-ring binder across the table he said, "Here take this: we have researched these events to the best of our abilities." Linda, mix the LSD with his Vodka. When he is nice and relaxed to just explain to him, he had repressed memories due to the trauma of his wife's rejection. It is a very believable scenario. To make it stick, you will have to constantly refresh the same stories every night. Eventually, they will become reality for him. There is nothing major in these stories; we're not trying to turn him into a different person - his basic personality must remain intact; that is why he was selected in the first place. Now take these medicines like a good girl and get home before Jack gets cold feet and splits." Jack was still sitting at the table and weeping when Linda came home carrying a small valise. Jack dared not ask what is in it. Linda made a quick trip to the bedroom and then sat and said, "I see you have already learned a very valuable lesson; women have two potent weapons in their arsenal, cosmetics and tears! Unfortunately, for you, neither is effective on yours truly. Now go to your room and fix your face and change into the clothes I have laid out for you." Jack felt he was walking on eggshells and afraid to say anything. Jack sat at his make up table and whimpered. He slipped the white camisole top over his head, and the brushed his blonde hair behind his back, then put on his war paint. With utter shame, he put on a hanky panky low rise thong. Jack simply slipped his feet into the cute, red wedge sandals that were laid out next to his closet and fastened the straps. Recalling the events of the previous two days Jack groaned. Standing he clicked his heels together three times and wished he was back in Kansas. When nothing happened, he thought, 'Well it was worth a try.' Jack joined Linda at the dining room table; she sat at the head of the table, like a queen on her thrown. Jack took his seat, as Linda sipped on a cup of tea, without saying a word, Linda placed two pills in front of Jack. She laughed, "Now let me see was that a pill every two days, or two pills a day. Oh well, no matter it will all even out in the end." He knew instinctively that if he didn't take them unquestionably he would suffer; he swallowed them down without any questions or liquid. Linda was pleased that she had so easily established control over her new student. That night like every night thereafter Jack cried himself to sleep. @ @ @ @ Chapter 18 The next morning Jack awoke with a great deal of trepidation and a huge amount of adrenaline. Dragging himself out of bed Jack presented himself to Linda. She handed Jack a long-sleeved leotard and told him to go to his room and put it on. There was a knock on the door and several minutes later Linda forced Daisy out of her secure bedroom and turned her vassal over to the personal trainer. Jack was awed by this man with a superbly sculpted body, that both aroused him while simultaneously creating an air of jealousy. He ran Daisy through an exercise program that an Olympic athlete would have had difficulty completing. After class, Linda congratulated an exhausted Daisy on her excellent dance performance. Jack wheezed "Ms. Linda, I was exercising, not dancing." Linda snickered. "Daisy my blond air headed bimbo, by definition exercising in 5 inch heels is dancing." Jack returned to his bathroom and showered and dressed for his day of training. Linda was there as he exited the shower. From that point forward Jack was daily laced, flounced, and beribboned in splendid frocks of silk and satin. That first morning Jack learned the price for letting a bra strap stray into public view. Linda dug into her wardrobe and produced a pair of six-inch heels, albeit in a size too small and too narrow for Jack. Nonetheless, he jammed his foot into the slippers and was required to stand in them and watch two hours of soaps on TV. Finished with his punishment Linda instructed, "Daisy your hair must always be neatly coiffed. Put it in a ponytail for now. That will keep it off your face, until Sophie, your beautician can work with you. You'll really like her. She has the disposition of a Labrador puppy and twice as playful." For the next hour Jack was subject to a detailed lecture on curling irons and hair dryers, followed by a seminar on shampoos and conditioners. As she walked out she passed her replacement in the hall. Next on the schedule was, Sally, a no-nonsense ex-playboy bunny cocktail waitress who provided Jack with his guidance concerning being a server. Sally started her period of instruction with some sage advice. "Daisy there are three keys to success as a cocktail waitress, 'Cleavage, cleavage, and more cleavages, any questions? On a more serious note, the first thing you must do, is to commit to memory the drinks and their prices. Cocktail waitresses should remember orders. You can start out by writing things down, but as you get more experience, memorization becomes the key. Just be on your toes. When memorizing drink orders, it helps to repeat them in your head a couple of times after they order them. Be prepared to work your butt off! Personality is the key. You set the pace. Be good to your bartenders, because they will make or break you. Remember, all any customer demands; is the fast, friendly, efficient service with a smile. Typically, the majority of your stress comes from co-workers. You will need a good knowledge of drinks so that you can identify them as you serve. Believe me; I've had cocktail waitresses who couldn't tell a scotch and water from a rum and coke. You also will need a sense of humor, excellent reflexes, excellent eyesight and be capable of walking and standing for hours in towering heels. You need to laugh at stupid jokes, endure endless flirting, but know where to draw the line. There is a difference between flirting and harassment. Lastly, you need to view women clients as customers, not competition, and you need to expect some degree of disrespect. You will need to look good in tight skimpy outfits, be friendly and flirty and know how to remember names, faces and drinks and above all you must have excellent balance." Jack found out that being a waitress was more than taking orders and clearing tables. He was always expected to talk, joke and flirt with the customers. Depending on the customer, he could be a marriage counselor, a nurse, a financial advisor, a fortune teller, or even a potential girlfriend. He was expected to do it all wearing 5 inch heels, a smile on his face, and laughter in his voice. The day progressed smoothly. Finally, it was time for the bar tending class. The bartender lectured Jack, "The word vodka comes from the Russian Zhiznennia. In Russian, Vodka means, water of life. The standard Russian toast said before consuming vodka is: Na Zdorovie!" Drinking class was designed as an educational period. Jack was instructed to take only small sips from each glass. Jack quickly took the opportunity to self-medicate for his angst and found ways surreptitiously to gulp the pain relief. Drink and smoke break became a part of the routine Daisy really enjoyed. It was the only part of the day where Jack was allowed human contact without fear of immediate and harsh reprisal for any miscue. Linda insisted that he drink from a special bottle. By the end of his first drink, Jack always became lost in a thick fog. His mind just sort of drifted along as Linda spoke in assured vibrant tones. They sat and discussed Jack's old life. Every night they went over a part of his history. Linda clearly explained how strong emotional experiences, such as Rose's ridiculed eviction, often caused a person to have repressed memories. Linda kindly volunteered to help Jack recover his lost recollections. Jack was shocked at how much of his memories were wrong. He had totally forgotten that summer where he pleaded with his mother to wear her underwear. He had it all backward, how could he have ever thought she made him wear them? Then he totally suppressed the memories about sneaking into her bathroom and stealing her birth control pills. Hiding the sexy lingerie in his drawers and wearing them every day to school slipped his mind. Then the really big one, my God how could he have gotten that one so mixed up. Jack clearly remembered the only time his father hit him. In Jack's mind, it was because he was told to wash his face and hands and not only had failed to do as he was told; but he lied about it. However, Linda pointed out the real reason for the beating was Jack had come to dinner wearing his mother's lipstick and mascara. Poor Jack remembered going to football games to stare at the cheerleaders. Thankfully, Linda straightened him out. The truth of the matter he went to the games because of the crush he had on the captain of the football team, how could anyone got those two confused? Then high-school graduation, Jack had very pleasant memories of the wristwatch he had received as a commencement present. Linda was kind enough to point out that his fond memories were really because his mother brought Jack to her bedroom and let him try on her wedding dress as a special treat. Jack could now clearly picture himself waltzing around the room in that beautiful white gown. Linda was such a good friend as she helped Jack recall all these repressed memories. Linda was so patient with Jack. Every day they had to go back over the same material because during the evenings, Jack's memory kept getting everything confused. At night, he even dreamed of being a man and enjoying sex with a woman, how repulsive. Linda calmly explained that Jack had always wanted to be a woman and shouldn't be having those perverted dreams. Jack as astute enough to recognize 'they' were playing mind games with him had every night concentrated hard on retaining his own past. The absolute worst part of every day was the 'treadmill'. Linda would arrogantly sit on her thorn behind Daisy, belittling his best efforts. She was always holding that damn cattle prod, AKA, the sissy maker. Jack found the pain was bearable but only just. Linda never said a word; Jack had to determine the nature of his errant behavior by the location of the shock. The one thing that brought utter terror to Jack's heart was when Linda would bring the prod up and hold it a fraction of an inch away from flesh and wait. Sometimes if the infraction didn't improve Linda would gleefully jab Daisy, other times Linda would slowly lower it. The mirrored walls always provided a perfect view of Linda's movement. The pause was horrifying, Jack would bite down as hard as he could on the mouthpiece and await the stabbing pain. Jack was determined not to give Ms. Linda the satisfaction of a groan when she struck with that diabolical devise. Linda was true to her word; she was a stern task master. Any mistakes he made during his daily exercise were duly noted by Linda. At night, the length of time on the treadmill directly correlated to his days performance. Linda's favorite saying was, "Pain is a good motivator, and extreme pain is a superb teacher." After two weeks Jack had the walk down pat. Yet he still was shocked a couple of times every secession. After one such secession, Linda even complimented Daisy on her performance. Buoyed by his actions and Linda's praised, Daisy courageously asked if he did so well. Why was he still punished? Linda's face transformed; her lips went from a smile to an evil sneer in the blink of an eye. Raising the prod, adjusted the setting and then said, "My dear sissy, no one is perfect. There is always room for improvement." Jack thought he knew pain, but soon found out how foolish he was. Linda stabbed Daisy right in her left nipple with the prod. The unexpected jolt stuck Daisy like a bolt of lightning and brought him to his knees. "Just for your edification Daisy, that setting is the highest; it is what I call childbirth. Congratulations you have just experienced the joys of motherhood by giving birth through your tit! The next time, you piss me off you will be delivering twins!" Linda laughed, making Daisy crawl to her bedroom; she herded her pupil into her room through a series of verbal jabs and gentle reminders with the prods in her tush. Linda took special glee when she managed to land a probe right on the sensitive rosebud making Daisy hop like a frog. Daisy, never again questioned anything Ms. Linda did or didn't do. He dutifully performed exactly as he was told and did it with a smile on his face. Jack hated himself whenever he called his torturer Ms. Linda. It seemed to reinforce a kind of submissiveness to her. Every time he uttered those words he felt a bit of his pride being stripped away. Every night as Jack brushed his teeth, he would see those hormone patches in his shaving bag; anger would grow, as he looked into the mirror, all he saw was a man in woman's clothes. He knew he needed something extra. He wasn't the woman Ms. Linda wanted. Nor was he the woman he had always wanted to become. Therefore, the patches were again stuck onto his thighs. Little did he know that in addition to the daily herbal pills Linda was providing, his food at home was saturated in progesterone? @ @ @ @ Jack was woefully unprepared for the juggernaut of a mistress Linda turned out to be. Linda was enthusiastic about his corset training. She slowly, but surely reduced his waist. Every day under her watchful eye Linda had the torturous implement of a waist cincher tightened to its limits. When she was physically unable to tighten the corset herself, she would ensure her minions assisted. The mere sight of her often caused Jack to shiver violently. The hopelessness of his situation produced a spirit of resignation and despair. There was no longer yesterdays or tomorrows. Time became a relative term, a bit elastic. With the whirlwind of the next few weeks/months who could tell? The passage of days was merely noted by the progression of training secessions. Jack's only purpose in life was to do Linda's bidding. He functioned at the primal level. He ate, slept, bathed, defecated, and did only what was necessary to avoid pain. Linda was a hard taskmaster. She was tall for a woman and had the bearing of an aristocrat. Aside from the nightly drinking and reminiscing secessions Linda was hardly a congenial companion. During the day, there was no idle chit-chat. Rather she displayed a cruel, hard and sullen disposition. She would sit in regal repose with her legs tucked up under her and observe every lesson. Linda revealed herself to be a master manipulator with a long laundry list of idiosyncrasies. When she did address someone, her speech was littered with strings of profanity. Linda spoke sparingly and when she did address Daisy, her words were always abrupt, critical and authoritative. Linda had a strict rule; people around her spoke only when spoken to. She literally wouldn't make eye contact with those she considered inferior. Jack ached for something as simple as a friendly touch, a caress to the cheek, ahug. A amiable kiss on the forehead was something he craved, like a vitamin deficiency. If it wasn't for those brief moments at night while sharing drinks and stories with Linda, Jack would surely shrivel up and die. The one saving grace was each day's exercise class got easier as he got into better shape. Hair care was fun. Playing with the wig, there were just so many styles possibly. As his own hair became longer it became a game to see how feminine Jack could make himself. The lessons on makeup remained a challenge. Jack came to dread make up secessions, as an engineer, he attacked makeup application like drafting class. At the conclusion of the beauty secessions, Jack thought he was gorgeous. From the coffered hair to scarlet drawn lips and sexy lined cat eyes, he went through every day as a feminine, sensual, attention- grabbing diva. Unfortunately no matter how good he thought he looked, Linda always found fault with something. Walking was a challenge. The stripper strut was anything but normal and required constant concentration. Waitress training was the most difficult. Sally insisted on memorization exercises, which were always followed by strenuous periods of balancing heavy drinks on a try. While strutting around the apartment Jack was subjected to a constant bombardment of harassments. Sally was a fount of information, always providing insightful commentaries on the waitress profession. "When patrons request something, always tell them anything is possible. Guys really love that. Bend at the waist as much as possible, this puts your cleavage and butt on display for the gentlemen. Remember whenever you are on the floor, no matter how you feel; you must portray the bubbly friendly attendant everyone wants to service them. Refill drinks and bring the next round before they ask. When the party is leaving, be sure to invite them back, remind them of your name and tell them how much you enjoyed serving them. A well-placed wink and grin go a long way. No matter what happens to keep a sense of humor. Bartending was a ball. Jack learned to make and identify by sight, smell and taste every popular cocktail. The vodka class was interesting. Every evening, Bill the bartender would line up a dozen of the major brands of vodka. Jack was tested to see if he can recognize each of them by taste. Jack was instructed to take only a small sip of each. It became a challenge to see how much of the liquid gold he could swallow before being caught. Meals for Jack were blah, nothing but backed fish or salads. Smoking practice was still distasteful. Jack could finish an entire cigarette and never cough once. He in no way cultivated a fondness for the foul flavored things. The saving grace was the drinking from his special bottle followed by a walk down memory lane every night. It was enlightening, remembering all those episodes in life that he has suppressed or just forgotten. Lastly, it was the horrible nightly strolls on the treadmill. Jack was driven by energy that comes from fear and desperation. Weeks were differentiated only by Saturday morning visits from Matilda the maid maker. Jack would dutifully clean the apartment under the supervision of Matilda. She almost pushed Jack over the edge. He thought of her as Attila the Hun in a dress. The day didn't start off on the right foot as Ms. Hun showed up with a new cleaning outfit for Daisy. Matilda handed him a plain polyester smock apron, to go over a simple white cotton house dress. Then she insisted Daisy cover her hair in a red bandana. A surprised Jack just started at his uniform. Matilda laughed; I told you I was bringing you a maid's uniform for today's lesson. What were you expecting a frilly French Maids outfit? Not in this life missy, you are here to work, not get your rocks off prancing around like some peacock in lace and petticoats. Matilda always wore her hair pulled back in such a sever bun her facial skin was taunt. Her voice sounded like a spoon had dropped in the garbage disposal. Not a single task Jack was ordered to do meet with her approval. He was taught to do hospital corners on the beds. They were never good enough for Matilda. Jack was made to do and redo them a hundred times. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out he was being conditioned. Successes rewarded with a kind word, failures resulted in immediate and sometimes harsh punishment. Nevertheless Jack couldn't figure out how to escape. His immediate goal became to accomplish every assigned task sufficiently well to avoid reprimands. He thought he finally caught a break when they moved to the bathrooms. He cleaned the toilet bows until they gleamed. Matilda asked if Daisy thought they were clean. Jack answered an enthusiastic "Yes!" So Matilda went and got a water glass and filled it from the toilet and handed it to Jack saying then drink this! Jack decided he would give them one additional cleaning. Linda stood enthralled at the drama unfolding in front of her. After drinking his class of water Daisy turned to Linda for support. All he got was a sharp retort, "This journey is not for the faint of heart. Get back to work." Matilda and Jack had another brief discussion about scrubbing the floor. Jack pointed out that mopping it would be faster and produce identical results. Matilda insisted that Daisy do it on her hands and knees. In the end, they compromised, Daisy mopped the entire apartment then went back over it on his hands and knees. That night as Jack exited his bath, Linda stuck her head into the bathroom. She had a smug look on her face, that Jack didn't like one bit. Linda demanded Daisy come to the living room without getting dressed. With a great deal of trepidation, Jack slowly trailed Linda to the center of the room where she forced him to his knees. A stern Linda told a naked Daisy to kneel up straight. She took a short rope and tied Jack's ankles together and then secured his wrests behind his back. Finally she tied his bound wrists and knotted feet conjointly. Pulling the rope tighter Linda forced Daisy in an extremely uncomfortable position. His back was arched so his hands were firmly secured to his ankles. A helpless Jack could only wait for his fate. Jack whined petulantly, apologizing for whatever he had done. "Now listen and listen good Daisy, you wretched little man. It is my job to mold you into Vladimir's perfect mate. I and my stalwarts of instructors will teach you how to walk, sit, dress, how to flirt, and if the mission requires it, I will even teach to make love with a man. I will turn you into Vladimir's perfect submissive courtesan. You will leave here able to make a living turning tricks. Now you can keep fighting me at every turn if you want, but I can assure you, if that's the path, you select it is going to be a very unpleasant journey. Now if you cooperate and really throw yourself into this, your time in dresses could even be a little pleasurable." Opening up her briefcase Linda said, "Daisy, I watched the problem you had today with Matilda." She reached into her case, and retrieved three large alligator clamps. Showing them to Daisy, she said, "My dear, I am about to help you with your anger control issues. This is what is called biofeedback. These I refer to as attitude adjustors." Taking two clamps, she sadistically attached them to Jack's sensitive nipples. Jack squirmed and pleaded for mercy; Linda smirked and said my dear the fun has just begun. Using the last clamp, she attached it to the tip of Jack's shrunken penis. It was more than Jack could take, and he started to screecm. Linda smiled and said, "I was ready for that." She stuffed a ball gag into his open mouth. Glancing at Daisy, Linda smiled and said, "The night is young, relax we are going to be here a while. Just a word of advice, thrashing about makes it worse, try to stay still and the pain will eventually become almost bearable." "Daisy I have tried to redress your shortcomings through education, and training. I have been very lenient with you so far because you have convinced me you were trying. Now this 'mutiny' against Matilda cannot be allowed to continue. I can modify your behavior, but only you can alter your attitude and motivation. Tonight's exercise is to convince you it is in your best interest to change. Daisy you need to exercise some restraint when you feel like expressing your opinions. I am proud to say my reactions to pupils that resist me are legendary for their harshness. I am known as a savant in the art of administering pain. Failure is not a word in my dictionary. No one has ever died under my care, but there have been a whole slew of trips to the emergency room. Do you realize I once got both my hand up a guy's rectum all the way to