Athens of the North
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A Visit To The North free porn video
Preamble
The beauty and range of Life, strikes me as unsettled. There are reasons
that changes occur to each of us. Things are just imperfect and some
choose to revise the conditions. We say we are what we are, but life
requires adaptation.
Some people "might by force of will, cause their face to approach those
of they're ideal. Some imagine that this is an ability they share with
most other people"
from Talking Heads "Seen and Not Seen" 1980
A Visit to the North by MadQuill
My wife Barbara and I were meeting a couple from Washington so we
elected to drive north to Montreal and since the weather wasn't an issue
we used the Vermont mountain route. Our friends meanwhile flew into town
a bit earlier in the afternoon. We'd planned to have cocktails and
dinner in Old Montreal when I received a special invite from a
restaurateur to dine at the Q Bar. After checking out the details on-
line we'd settled on this venue. I took little note that the
receptionist seemed to know we were coming; I'd simply stated my name
and everything fell into place. Maybe the Hotel had a special
relationship with the Q Bar.
Arriving at the St. James just after 3pm Barb was intent on some loving
prior to our meeting for cocktails so we quickly showered and focused on
our needs. She knows exactly how she wants her pussy to be licked and
though I've had a ton of joy between her legs she loves moving my head
around her mound and down toward her perineum. Barbara had never been
multi-orgasmic but we slowed a bit and then I'd started again and she
was coming a second time. Wow, is all I could say as I watched her
rolling about. At the time I wished I could do that. Little did I know
what changes were in store.
Friday evening was milder than normal so we didn't need the typical
outwear of boots and long coats demanded by the harsh climate of the
north in late December. In fact we were pleasantly surprised how easy
the taxi hail had been as well. All of the girls look beautiful and
since I was the lone male I sat next to the driver and tended to the
doors and fees. Our friends from DC were so excited to be in a Gay
friendly metropolis, only a little bit cooler than Washington. They had
been at our wedding but with separate male dates. Both had tended to
date really built guys so we were surprised when they announced their
engagement 30 months later. Since the weather was not threatening I
watched all three climb in and out of the cars with their heels and legs
flashing.
Though Barb had put on a bit of weight she was still beautifully shaped.
She wasn't as buxom as Ms. Hendricks of Madmen, but about the same
height. Julie and Liz were typical lipstick lesbians, lots of beauty and
skin. These girls were surprisingly similar in height and size, but Liz
had shoulder length dark hair and Julie was a shorthaired blonde. I was
surprised to witness the exposed soft flesh above Julie's stocking top
as her skirt slid aside while entering the cab. My wife seldom donned
such sexy leg wear and lingerie. Surprisingly just six weeks later I'd
better understand the skill level involved in strutting in plus 100mm
heels!
The girls were tight in the rear seat of the Nissan cab so I of course
aided their exit, and again a leg show. The Restaurant wasn't too busy
at 7 pm and we had a perfect table which allows us privacy yet wasn't
too far from the bar. The Waite staff was just precious to look at as
they did their various tasks. I was enjoying the heels and legs as well
as the cleavage all around. Together with my dinner companions the staff
was driving me to sufficient distraction that the girls caught on and
started lampooning guys behavior and mine most of all.
Dinner was served and prepared beautifully and five smaller courses with
paired wines (a gift from the Host we were told). Julie reminded Barb
and Liz that this was as close to a hen party as possible, especially
with the beautiful staff running by and by. Conversation changed and I
stopped my wandering eyes, for a few seconds. By 10 pm I was paying the
tab and the girls were re-assembling themselves for the walk back toward
Old Montreal and a special wine bar they'd found earlier in the
afternoon. The fair weather together with the past feast prompted the
decision to move the four blocks via foot.
We entered the Chinatown area with quite a few other pedestrians around
but as we turned south we were almost alone on a narrow block. About
midway down the block I was surprised to receive a call from a past
client, or so I thought. I hung back from the women talking while they
walked noisily ahead when it occurred. In a second I was grabbed from
behind, gagged and my head covered, next my phone was pulled from my
hand and the assailants grabbed my feet and tore off my shoes. I quickly
realized that there were several people attacking me but just then I
lost consciousness.
1a Abducted
There is an unusual group in the northern city that came into being to
fulfill a need. Individuals who sought more control in their
relationships, those looking for a special, a unique woman, found their
way to the group. The team used a system of control so dense their
secrecy was assured. The lead was born overseas with little to
differentiate her from any other thirty-year old French woman, except a
strong interest in the beauty, the scent, and the passivity of women.
She had settled in Montreal nearly twenty years ago, due to the
metropolis, as well as the marketplace. The group referred to her as
Mastress.
Somehow my web surfing habits had caught the notice of the Sisterhood.
For years I had been using the Internet to fill my interest and
fantasies of alternative lifestyles. I had found many sites focused on
special girls and gender changes. When I was young the neighboring girls
were my friends and were always telling me I was a beautiful boy. I'd
started dressing as a teenager. In my teens I would still be confused
for a much younger boy, and on the phone for a younger girl. Back then I
'd carefully concealed my dressing yet similar to others with this
special need I was discovered by an unexpected return, in my case my
mother, who asked the appropriate question: "Do you care to be a girl?"
Interest in the activity waned as I reached my twenties but there was
always a lingering yearning. I treated it as a curious period and didn't
allow the small thoughts to grow. This doesn't imply that I did not find
it arousing, the opposite is more correct. Seeing someone transformed, a
random street sighting or even on television, made it difficult to
ignore my latent interest. I just withheld the possibility to prevent
being considered weird or perverse. After finishing college, but before
meeting my future wife, I'd done some earnest gender explorations but
I'd always minimized the public exposure. Dressing alone and hidden from
any chance encounter assured my secret. I loved seeing my countenance
transformed by hair and good makeup, clothing and shoes. The need to fit
medium sized women's clothes kept me aware of my weight which hovered
near 70 kg. I had collected many outfits and lingerie, as was the norm
for someone of my nature.
Early on I'd found release in reading erotic text that hinted at the
behavior of male to female transfemmes. Though not as main stream as the
Shakespeare's examples nor Huck Finn's these stories varied in the
intensity of the sexuality of the 'girls' and also focused on the
dominate other that lead the young man's journey into the femme'. These
two elements have never left my imagination and now today guide me along
Mastress' path. The Internet had given me a bit of anonymity but this
was a false belief. A reasonably talented hacker could have compromised
the browsers I've used over the years. The firewalls can be broken
through and the release of my information. The search engines of today
both open and close these portals in the private life we believe we
have.
The purge of my collected outfits, shoes and jewelry happened just after
meeting and falling in love with my wife. Setting my gender play aside
seemed final at that point. We enjoyed spending time with one another,
traveling, entertaining, and playing together in bed. Though there was
magic between my wife and I, and sexuality is an important part of our
life, I didn't share my dressing interest. This decision shall have a
consequence but not prior to the time of the forthcoming tale.
The nature of my gender definition is the plot of this story but let me
be clear that when I'd been dressing in femme' mode those years before
we married I was very passable. I'd restricted my outer life simply due
to the lack of a support network. If this life had occurred a bit later
I can't imagine what my life might have been. Back then when I'd dressed
I saw myself as a woman, not in drag. My body care showed me that smooth
and near perfect skin, long hose covered legs, together with great
makeup and a smile, could allow even my neighbors to mistake me for a
visiting friend. I stopped dressing when I fell for Barbara because I
wanted only to be passable, not a mistake in a LBD. I found the time and
effort to assemble the quality of emulation I sought just wasn't
available once I was focused on her needs.
Hence I decided to live this part of my life in an imagined state
brought via viewing, reading and doing my selfish acts quietly. Married
life was good to us both and we had loads of fun and traveled widely,
even to Europe on several occasions. Our sadness was we were not to have
an easy time making babies. My wife and I suffered the death of two
children prior to birth. We both carried the scars but found we needed
more of each other rather than less. We tended to spend a great deal of
time together and found couples with similar dynamics to share time
with.
Unknown to me the Sisterhood's malware kernels lay dormant awaiting my
on-line visit to two or more adult alternative sites. All of the data
coming to my various e-mails was available to their server's algorithm
links. They found a way into my account history and payments, though to
avoid the banking centers and the high-grade security, they stayed clear
of the financial accounts. Their system was set to catalog distinct
patterns and mine must have been fairly easy. I tended to re-visit the
same viewing platforms and reading sites at least two times a week. The
data may have been collected over several years for some of their
targets, but mine could have been acquired in as little as a month.
Throw in some data from purchases, social media information and pictures
and they could easily have guess most of what defined me as a male of 37
years living on the East Coast. I now know that some individuals were
even easier since they'd purchased feminine garments and appliances.
So when I went on-line and booked a long weekend at the Hotel le St.
James in Old Town Montreal they were alerted within seconds. My previous
site visit history and hits had established my profile for the
Sisterhood and they had a client looking for a mid-thirties male for
reassignment. The opportunity had now settled and the abduction could be
scheduled. Quickly focused they were aware of my dining plans for a
specific Saturday in December.
2a I am Lost
I became aware of myself sometime later, my situation was a different
matter, let alone where I was. Over a period of time I realized my eyes
were open. Nothing but a bright white glare from some place, I wasn't
certain I was inside or somewhere else. Slowly I adjusted to the
brightness. I was looking up at what might be the ceiling though I still
couldn't see clearly, still unaware that I couldn't move my head. I
opened my mouth and with effort I tried to focus with my facial muscles
but then I fell back asleep. Some moments later, at least I felt it was
a short time, I became aware of the surroundings, and I could rotate my
head and slightly move all of my limbs. Though I tried to raise myself
from the bed, I realized I was restrained.
"Open your mouth for me young lady."
Hearing a slightly malicious woman's voice I tried to look from where it
came. Her order was clear though I my vision was still somewhat blurred,
I couldn't see anyone, yet something was held close to my lips.
"Do exactly as I say. I want you to give this thing a nice kiss. I'm
going to put it in your mouth and I want you to suck on it like you
would suck on a thumb. Do you understand?" she asked.
I looked up but saw nothing, then from below my chin a probe like digit
sized object reached my lower lip. I opened and it was in my mouth. Why
had I conformed? What was, Oh my god! A penile shaped gag was in my
mouth and quickly it began to increase in size. And then I was out
again. Everything dark. But I was somehow more aware of all that was me
and surrounding me. Sexual images were filling my mind, and occasionally
with bursts of intense pleasure. Either I was dreaming or was being lead
somewhere without touching the ground. Another woman's soft voice was
talking to me..
The history of Mastress' peculiar business started with a remarkable
number of clients eager to have her group fulfill their special needs.
You might jump to conclude she sought revenge for a past trouble at the
hands of a male but her method implied a more intense background and
love of 'femaleness'. Least to say she still loved what men had to
offer, yet she found most of her release in the company of females, both
young and old, all beautiful and each a special individual. Still how
does one come to market transformed men and boys? Why even initiate the
commerce? For what scale of remuneration was this clearly illegal act of
kidnapping so reasonable to start? How did Mastress even get her first
request, let alone how she found those able to help her complete the
act? The team had created quite a number of successful transfemmes in
the sixteen years since Mastress began.
Mastress had seduced and trained her team over a period of years. Her
throughout research and careful screening and selection was essential.
The five girls understood that any failure to meet a request brought
Mastress' wrath.
She was beautiful and tall and her body was a tight 60 kilograms, even
though she had now passed 50 years. Her character was defined both by
her simple beauty and her style. This was a woman fully charged with
intellect, means and sexuality. She worn her soft light brown hair to
just passed the shoulders, but many days she worn it up, in a bun or
with a clip. Though stern toward failure she generally had little reason
to be so since her charges were well managed and therefore behaved in
accordance with her commands. Mastress carried her sexuality it with
grace, applying to those in need and teasing the uninitiated. She'd
organized her work with the team from a beautiful estate in town near
the Parc.
This team was managed by a tall lesbian with auburn hair named Rachel.
She had ascended to her role by being most astute to Mastress' needs as
well as her goals. The most difficult portion of the abductions that led
to the re-training was finding a candidate matching the requests of the
clients. The actual capture was demanding as well but due to the
organization, skill and planning they never encountered secondary
issues. The search required attention to every detail but the kidnapping
demanded strength and cunning. Only the female team members carried out
the primary tasks of the team; there were two brutes near but restricted
from the interaction.
The relationship of these two women included many late night sessions of
guidance and care. Rachel managed the majority of the arrangements for
the abductions as well as dictated the specifics of the capture.
Mastress relied on her discretion and her command of the other girls of
the team.
There were four other female members, all uniquely qualified to be with
the group. Each is physically stronger than her gender and size would
imply.
Suzanne was born and raised in the French countryside south of Paris.
Her studies in France allowed her to travel to Montreal when she was 21
years. Somehow she came under Mastress' influence. She is nearly 30
years old, 170cm tall and fit at 55kg. Her hair is chestnut and medium
in length.
3a Awakened
"You are OK Annabelle. We've take good care of you these last 18 days.
No one suspects you're here so please try and stay calm as you become
more alert."
Then she removed the now small penile gag, and I felt strange and I bit
alone, but also very comfortable. My mind started to assess my condition
and a vague memory started to form about being without shoes on cold
stone or concrete. I instinctively move my legs and noted I could but
not without my focusing on each. Could I rise from my back? I tried and
found it difficult hence I relaxed downward again. Also too weak to roll
to one side I stopped moving while another thought came to my conscious.
She said 18 days? Where was I, and my wife and friends? Yet I still
didn't seem to think this strange, just a missing memory. I wondered who
Maddie was? But I was asleep again.
Mastress had developed the pair of substantially built +190cm tall
brutes. They were cultivated bisexual muscles and trained to respond to
her direction unequivocally. They supported the girls as necessary.
The Estate is near downtown. The Estate boundary is not generous yet
privacy is assured via the high walls of stone. Built in the City, on
the hillside of Parc Royale, the four buildings provide a full spatial
range for the Sisterhood's tasks and leisure.
Mastress spends a good part of her day with the girls and insists they
take extra care to be in proper dress and well coiffed. In addition,
several evenings a month she gathers them all to partake of each others
focused sexual needs. The brutes are also part of these escapades as
their needs are also carefully managed. The room set aside within the
Estate for these events is called the Keep since it is located within
the height of the main building.
The team leaned strongly on Rachel. If she found conditions that allowed
the Mastress to comply with a request she prepared the field and started
the team's activities toward fulfilling the request. She spent a great
deal of time monitoring e-mail and on-line traffic. The Sisterhood's
central server was very large and set to track the life style and
inquires that Rachel found could produce a desired result. There were
critical convergent points on the Web. Most were tied into alternative
lifestyle websites and related porn purveyors. Rachel had infiltrated
the most important sites with a specially coded kernel that didn't take
over a target person's cpu but allowed a good deal of reporting to flood
back to Mastress' server. Then the server's algorithm sorted the data
and prepared personal alignments that may Rachel would consider.
4a The Street
Julie turned around and didn't see me. The three then quietly started
back because they weren't yet alarmed. After thirty steps Liz paused the
three.
"He was right here a moment ago, I hear him speaking on the phone. He
said 'who is this?' but I didn't turn to look back.
"But where did he go? I heard him on the phone as well but didn't take
note," Barbara said.
Liz called out for me but there was just the noise of the street and no
one responded. Looking about she yelled again, louder, yet there was no
response. They could see other pedestrians slowing at the end of the
block, looking in interest to the yells.
Barb paused, "He didn't run off girls. He must be here, maybe he slipped
and fell."
"Doesn't your phone have a flashlight app Julie?" Liz asked.
With the light after some minutes passed they found my phone in the
middle of the now quiet street 10 meters beyond where they stopped. Then
several more minutes later Julie saw my shoes at the curb near four
meters away from the damaged phone.
"There, at the curb, those shoes."
Liz barked my name again. There was no one else on the block.
"He couldn't just disappear." Barbara was worried now after looking
about the area for five minutes.
Julie called my name but again there was nothing but a reverberation.
Barbara had moved toward the end of the block of closed shops.
Returning she asked "Why had we chosen this bleak path back to the
Hotel? He just disappear Julie? What do I do now Liz?"
Liz asked, "Let me see his phone dear. Humm, the last number was
'blocked', and the battery is near dead too. The glass face is smashed,
and the corner damaged. It appears to have been thrown."
On the next block they asked a Chinatown shop owner. "I not see such a
man."
At nearly midnight they'd reach the local Police Service Station No.20.
Barbara was hysterical, she just couldn't see clearly. They spent the
next hours just waiting for the next small event at the station, though
the Police didn't have any news regarding my whereabouts.
It was a nightmare. Since the moment of my disappearance in the streets
south of Chinatown the girls had neither clue nor any assistance from
the officials. The Police Incident Report they filed was public
information and the Sisterhood had access to the file within a few
hours. There was nothing the Montreal Police could do to aid in a search
since it was less than 24 hours therefore I wasn't 'missing'. Though
they presented my damaged phone and the recovered shoes the Sergeant
simply smiled at the curious personal affects. The girl's memory of the
street was a bit clouded by the wine.
Julie thought I was about fifty meters behind them. "I turned around and
didn't see him. Then I alerted Barbara, this is his wife. Someone
doesn't disappear Sergeant. He's been taken, by whom we can't guess, nor
why?"
Liz was essential in guiding the three through the system and eventually
decided they needed to return to the St. James for some rest sometime
after 3am. Julie had some sleeping pills, which helped to get the
charged up Barbara to rest. Julie plugged my phone in to her charger.
The redial wouldn't function though.
Sometime early in the morning Barbara left the Hotel and headed back
toward the spot the phone was found. Julie and Liz awoke nearer to 9am,
found Barb missing and went to the scene as well. After the first hour
Barbara found my wedding band in a joint in the cobblestone drainage
basin.
"This means nothing to the Police's inquiry but it's strange. He
wouldn't have discarded this would he?" Barbara was crying again.
to be continued,
End of Part One
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