Sisters In Seduction free porn video

SISTERS IN SEDUCTION "I'm bored," remarked Primrose Campbell, "it's ages since we were in New York, I feel like Paris." "Who?" her sister Poppy asked. "Not who, where. I said I feel like a trip to Paris." Primrose stirred. "Why can't something interesting ever happen in this God forsaken hole?" At twenty two, Primrose was the older sister by almost exactly two years. Their mother died when they were quite young, and their father had made it up to them by indulging their every whim. As the last in the male line of family merchant bankers, he had the money to lavish, but never the time for the love and affection the two growing girls really needed. Now he was dead, sent to an early grave most people said, by the constant problems of over work and troublesome teenage girls to bring up. The sisters saw off one governess after another, and only just made it to their twenties by luck rather than judgement, getting into one scrape after another. Now the family's business had become a publicly listed company, the girls' shareholding enough to give them a life of absolute luxury, even without the rest of the huge family fortune. Now they could do whatever they wanted, buy whatever they wanted, including all their friendships. Their father thought that the only thing in their favour was that they didn't seem to be nearly as promiscuous as many of their peers. What he didn't realise was that they were both confirmed lesbians. Of course it wasn't easy to keep from causing outrage from the local 'great and good', in a rural part of south west England, where they lived on the ancestral estate. They had affairs, but even they realised that if they flaunted their sexuality too much, they wouldn't keep the staff they needed. Country people have strange ideas sometimes, and a 'den of debauchery' would be an anathema to the straight laced, and by and large, God fearing locals. The sisters just didn't want the inconvenience a lack of staff would bring them. "We need a hobby." Poppy was just as idle, but hadn't quite the same intellect as her sister, who needed stimulation all the time. "What about another 'project'?" "We can't do that here again," Primrose smiled at the memory "remember the stink when Roberta went back to her parents?" "It wasn't our fault that he didn't want the operation to make him into a real girl, he was just too macho to accept what we'd done to him. It was fun though, remember the look on his face when we told him that if he wanted to stay with us he'd have to be Roberta in every way? I thought that he'd like the implants we gave him, he'd almost accepted them, but he didn't like the idea of his boy bits being cut off," Poppy giggled. "Trouble is, I remember his father coming round here screaming about what we'd done to his precious Robert. He took the hush money easily enough though, didn't he?" Primrose knew that everyone had their price but even they couldn't bribe half the county. "Why don't we go up somewhere we won't get interrupted or spied on?" Poppy suggested. "That's not a bad idea, Pops," Primrose agreed, using the shortened version of her sister's name that only she was allowed to do. "If we went up to the Loch Shin lodge we could stop off on the way and pick up a candidate." "Yes, and we've still got a lot of the things we used on Roberta, but we'll have to get someone the right size." Poppy thought for a moment. "Something like this could fill in our time nicely before we're due to go to Cowes Week, the regatta's always good for a hoot and those nice Yankee girls have asked us onto their yacht to watch." "That gives us, let me see." Primrose consulted her phone. "Seven clear weeks from next Monday, that should be enough time for us, but we can't delay too long. I suggest you go on up there and get things ready, and I'll join you once I have a volunteer." Saturday night saw Primrose clubbing in a city roughly halfway to their destination, where Primrose met up with James Toliver, a slightly built eighteen year old, nearly five inches shorter than her five feet ten inches. James, or Jim to his friends, was due to meet up with his girlfriend at the club, but she'd failed to turn up. He knew she loved the lively club scene and thought that it was his own fault, telling her his little secret. It had almost certainly put her off him. He was about to leave, fed up with yet another promising date letting him down, when he noticed an incredibly beautiful woman sat near the bar. As he looked at her, she smiled, so he smiled back. She made a point of trying to drain the last drops from an empty glass. He could take a hint, especially it arrived like a sledgehammer. "Can I buy you another?" he asked this goddess in a dress that left very little to the imagination. "Why, you're most kind, a dry Martini, please." She seemed to Jim to be too good to be true, he fully expected her to either not be there when he came back, or to take the drink, thank him, then go off with someone else. She didn't do any of those things. She invited him to join her and sat enthralled at his every word as he told her about himself, how he lived alone and was himself a stranger to Manchester, having just moved up within the government department he worked for, explaining that he was a pen pushing civil servant. "I've got to go up to my boss's holiday home tonight, Jim," Primrose lied to him, "would you like to come with me for the night?" Watching the woman's body language, he was pretty sure she meant something more than going for a drive, so he listened to his hormones and quickly agreed. Ten minutes later they were outside the club and being helped into a chauffeur driven limousine, not what he was expecting at all. Even more intriguing was when they arrived at the City Heliport, and transferred to a luxurious helicopter. "Can you switch your mobile off while we fly?" Primrose asked him. "I don't carry it at night, it's back in my flat." It was Jim's time to lie, but if you had asked him at that moment, he wouldn't have been able to tell why he decided to keep his possession of a cell phone secret. "If I have it with me, my boss often gets onto me for something." He was pleased that she seemed to accept that explanation, and as they lifted up into the sky, it occurred to him that modern avionics weren't troubled by mobile phones, or planes would be falling out of the sky all the time. At this time of night, he had no idea where they were headed, except it was in a generally northerly direction. In a little over an hour they touched down in the grounds of a large house in what he could only think was a very remote area, probably towards the north of Scotland. The only landmark he could pick out appeared to be a large lake some distance away from the house. They had no sooner got out of the noisy machine than it lifted off again, helping to blow them towards their destination, a lit open doorway with another woman standing just inside. "Hi there," they were greeted by her, "come on in and have a drink my lovers." With nothing further spoken between them, they made their way through a boot room and into a large entrance hall with a number of doors leading off with only one opened. Jim soon discovered that it was the way to a large lounge with a bar at the far end. " I'm Poppy, what's your name, my pretty boy?" "James, Jim to you, where are we?" "First things first, Jim my lad, what would you like to drink?" He opted for a scotch, assuming that when in Rome etc., and sure enough there was a large selection on offer. What he didn't see was the powder that Poppy stirred into it, but within three or four minutes of finishing it, the draft took effect and Jim slumped in the chair unconscious. While her younger sister held open a rubbish bag, Primrose expertly stripped the young man naked dropping each discarded item into the bag without a second's glance. If they had looked at all, they may well have changed their minds, but these ladies were too single minded. Poppy disposed of the 'rubbish' outside and presented Primrose with the a couple of the items she had ready. A thick, wide reinforced latex collar, and a chastity device that fitted over his penis and around his testicles, unless it was unlocked the only way that would come off was if his balls came with it. Each of the items were the highest technology money could buy. They contained powerful batteries that were recharged by the wearer's movements, so under normal circumstances they never ran flat. This was important, as each was remote controlled, providing a powerful means of encouraging co-operation. As the fuzzy headed man came round, he realised that his clothes were gone. "What the hell's going on?" he demanded. "I'm pleased to say that you've been chosen as our project for the next few weeks. Allow me to introduce myself, you will call me Mistress Primrose, and this beautiful example of womanhood is my sister Mistress Poppy. Your name from now and for the rest of your life is Giselle, you are to be our ladies' maid, completely obedient and feminine. Now isn't that nice?" "No it isn't, is this some sort of weird game?" He didn't appear really cross, but quite firm, that was until Primrose pressed a red button on a small black plastic remote control in her hand. He had never experienced such pain, in his neck and crotch simultaneously. He fell to the floor, screaming with. He was panting for some minutes after the agony ceased. "Oh dear, Pops, we are going to have a long haul here, aren't we?" Primrose had a smile on her face, then to Giselle, she said: "Lesson one, you don't speak unless you're invited to by one of us, and when you do, you call us by the names I've just given you. Understand?" "Yes Mistress Primrose." He had no choice but he couldn't believe things were as bad as that, but they were worse. "Now, Giselle, get on your hands and knees staying on the floor," ordered Poppy, who went behind the bar and brought over two hypodermic syringes, passing on to Primrose. They each plunged them into Jim's buttocks, one each side, and emptied the contents. Then Poppy clipped a dog's leash onto his collar. "Time for walkies, Giselle." She pulled the leash, and he followed them on all fours, out of the room and up the main staircase from the entrance hall, ignoring the first higher level and going to the top. There they followed a narrower corridor, then into a room with a padded table under a heavy lighting array in the middle of the room. He did as instructed and laid on his back while they strapped him down. Once he was immobilised, Primrose explained that they were going to use lasers to kill off his body hair, and whilst they didn't care that much, it would be inconvenient to have to find another subject, just because he was blinded as he moved. To protect them, they placed a very tiny pair of blacked out goggles over his eyes, still leaving his eyebrows exposed. They each pulled down instruments that were connected to the lighting mount, while Poppy used a very small pen-like device in the area of his eyebrows, Primrose had a much larger one, which she started to move over his arms. He couldn't be sure he could feel the small laser, he had a definite warm to hot sensation from the larger. Once Poppy was finished, she told him that they would wait for his beard to grow a little to eradicate that, and she took another large device and started on the other side of his body from her sister. He lost track of the time he lay there, but at some stage they called it a day, helped him to an adjoining bathroom, then back to the table where they strapped him down for what was left of the night. The next morning Jim lay there for quite a while, looking at the sun streaming in through a large window off to one side of him. He needed the toilet, as was his habit when he woke, and he was starting to get desperate by the time the sisters appeared to deal with it. Then it was a continuation of where they left off in the early hours, including Poppy returning to his face with the smaller laser, saying that there was now enough growth to do his beard. They then turned him over on his stomach and worked for a while on his back. After they announced that 'phase one' was completed, they gave him three more injections, one in each buttock, and one into the perineum, just behind his testicles. They removed his chastity device, then released him from the table, but gave a reminder that they still had the controllers for his collar. He was taken to a second room, via a connecting door, which was laid out in a very feminine fashion, where Primrose told him to stand still and turnaround. From his back she wrapped what to him was obviously a woman's corset, in a delicate shade of pink, Poppy clipped it together at the front. There was nothing delicate in what followed. Primrose started to tighten laces at the rear and it wasn't long before he didn't think he was going to be able to carry on breathing. Then she tightened them more before she was satisfied, telling him to take short breaths. "We're going to teach you to walk properly for the first few days of your training, Giselle," Primrose told him. They slid long sleeves up both arms, then fastened laces that hung from them at various points, so that his elbows were bent at ninety degrees, then a similar binding pulled his wrists so that his hands pointed at the floor. Then his elbows were tethered to his corset, so he couldn't raise his arms. Two more sleeves were pulled up his legs, and these seemed to have the same sort of boning as the corset, so that he couldn't bend his knees. His feet were slid into ankle boots which were laced up, and to his horror he discovered that they had six inch heels, he could barely stand let alone walk. As a final measure, his collar was removed and replaced with a deeper one, that held his head in an upright position, so he couldn't see his own body, he couldn't even open his jaw more that about half an inch. "All this is to help you Giselle," Poppy told him with a laugh, "you have to learn to walk with little mincing steps, you'll find that rolling your bum will give you a nice sexy walk, and your hands should always be held in a really girly pose. Now come with us to your special exercise room." This time he was taken out into the corridor, forcing himself to totter along with the women, who opened another door for him. This very long room, perhaps more than forty feet long, was devoid of furniture, but he saw a strange thing on the wall to his right. It was a board at his head height, with what looked like a dildo sticking out of the middle horizontally. They took him over to see it. "This is a very simple exercise machine, Giselle," Primrose explained, "it is a rubber prick with small switches just above and below it's base. It has its double at the other end of the room." She turned him to see that one. "It's all very simple, Giselle," carried on Poppy "all you have to do is turn off both switches simultaneously, then to have three minutes to get to the other one and turn that off. Each time you turn one off at one end of the room it turns the other on, but if you don't turn it off, after three minutes, it activates your collar. If you fall over, whether it's because you have been shocked, or are just careless, we will have to come and pick you up. If we have to do that you will get six strokes of a cane, just like a naughty girl at school. The second time, you get twelve, the third, eighteen, get it?" "The only way to turn off the two buttons at the same time," Primrose told him, "is to put your mouth round the prick and take it into your throat, then your nose and chin will touch the switches, there's a little light above them, so you can see when you've turned it off. So that is all you have to do, walk up and down this room, giving your dildos a blow job at each end, so we'll leave you to it. Remember we have allowed you three minutes to walk the length of the room, which is a generous amount of time, we're looking to teach you to walk, not run." With that the little light came of above the dildo next to him, so he tried out doing what they had told him, and was caught by surprise when, with the dildo just touching the back of his throat, a little squirt of warm liquid came out of the end as his face touched the switches. Poppy saw the look of surprise on his face and laughed. "You must be a very good cocksucker Giselle, you made it cum." They both left, laughing at the hilarious joke, and he set off towards the other end of the room. Quickly he developed a technique of rolling his hips which made the walk possible, but did nothing to stop the pains wracking his body. The cords that held his arms in what was for him an unnatural pose, cut into him if he just let them hang, which meant he had to hold the pose with his own muscles. His corset felt as if he was being cut it half, his calves were screaming at him, as were his feet, yet he had no choice but to carry on his lonely walk, back and forth, up and down the room. He must have been at it for an hour or more, when he felt one of his legs give out, he told it what to do and it disobeyed. He tumbled to the floor so hard he worried at first if he'd broken something. In spite of frantic efforts to get up, it was impossible. His whole body went into spasm as the shock collar did its worst. It only lasted for about five seconds, then went off, but he still had to lie there waiting what he was sure would be a swift and painful retribution. He lay there so long that if it hadn't been for the pain, he would have slept, but felt that at least it gave time for his legs to recover. At last the two women came in and picked him up and escorted him out of that room into one on the opposite side of the corridor. The first impression he had was that it was a gymnasium and that was how they referred to it, with bars, ropes and ramps among other things he couldn't identify. He was stood in front of a horizontal bar between two posts, just off the centre of the room and Poppy hooked a webbing strap across from one post to the other, just behind his legs at knee level. Primrose hooked a dog's leash onto the front of his collar and pulled him towards her, the bar at his crotch level allowing him to bend forward. "You did very well this afternoon, Giselle managing an hour and a half without falling over, and that will be your benchmark. So long as you equal or better your benchmark each time when you fall, you will only receive six strokes. The practice of adding six every time will only happen if you don't beat the previous time you set. There is something else for you to think about, Giselle. If you can double your benchmark time, we will come and get you and you can rest for a while without any punishment." He could see her bring her arm back out of the corner of his eye, then a whistling sound immediately preceded his behind catching on fire, at least that was what it felt like and it made him scream out. There was along delay and then the second landed, just above the first, he started to cry with the pain. Each stroke was delayed, perhaps it was almost as bad as the hits, he knew it was coming but couldn't brace himself, only think about it. Primrose waited five minutes between the fourth and fifth, just to make him suffer more. By the time it was all done, and he was back in the long room, he was shaking and terrified of the consequences of his next fall. The worst of it was that he knew that it was almost inevitable, as he couldn't see himself being able to go on for twice as long. However, the thought of having twelve drove him on, up and down the room, putting out little lights. Although he didn't know it each time he was getting a small dose of vitamin and mineral enriched water, keeping him fed, but ensuring he would lose weight at the same time. He knew that he was walking in the one comfortable way the weird sleeves on his arms and legs would allow, a mincing action, shaking his booty, the only way he could do it. He wondered how long it would be before he would walk that way without the constraints, which was the obvious conclusion. After a long time, he was walking like an automaton, not thinking about how he was doing it, just concentrating on getting it done. Just when he was about to accept that he couldn't take another step, the door opened and Poppy walked in and the light above the dildo he was waking towards, went out. "Congratulations Giselle, you've done really well, let's take you to rest for a while." She helped him back to the room with the padded table, and he managed to lie face down, enabling her to slacken off the arm and leg ties. His posture collar was removed entirely and the original one replaced it. She wasn't sure whether her charge fell asleep or passed out, either way, he was unconscious by the time she strapped him down, gave him two more shots, and left him to rest. He had no idea what the time, or even the day was, as they repeated the ritual, every few hours, walking then rest, repeated until it was an entirely automatic action on his part. It was actually three days that he was kept in that punishing regime, with the accompanying injections and his corset tightened each morning and evening. Then suddenly he was woken one morning and the sleeves removed from his arms and legs. "Remember that if you regress to your old walk, or you do something to upset us, Giselle, you will go back to the start and begin this again," Primrose told him. For the first time in all that period, his corset and boots were also removed and he was placed in a bath. It had sweet smelling bath salts in the water, but nothing ever felt so good as that soak he had then. For the first time he was able to think of something other than those bloody lights. He examined his body, completely hairless and his chest sported two small but definite breasts that were puffy round his enlarged nipples which were themselves very tender. As he soaped himself he had to be careful with them, they were so sensitive that it was too painful to rub them with the washcloth. His penis was suffering from the reverse problem, it was smaller than he could ever remember seeing it, and his balls had retracted up into his body. There was no feeling it seemed, in any part of his man bits, they felt numb, even when he pulled his penis about he couldn't feel what he was doing with it. As he took stock of his situation, there was only one positive, he realised that in spite of his fears, he had only received the one set of punishments with the cane. He came to the conclusion that the women didn't seem to want to find any excuse to hit him, and for that he was thankful, but he couldn't escape the conclusion that they were turning him, very quickly, into a rather poor copy of a female. He could only hope that all they had done so far could be reversed. Apart from the punishments not being as bad as they could be, his only optimistic hope was that his cell phone could be traced and then people trying to contact him would use that to rescue him. What he didn't know was that the house was well outside any cell phone signal area, and that his clothes had in any case been trashed and at that moment were lying under tons of other rubbish in a land fill site more than thirty miles away. Poppy entered the bathroom and smiled at his enjoyment of the refreshing water, but told him that it was time to get out. She helped him to pat himself dry with the soft and fluffy towels, he found that his whole body was more sensitive, and then helped him dust himself with a flower scented talc. She gave him four more doses of what he now knew were female hormones, one in each buttock and one in each side of his obvious breasts. She gave him some cream to rub round his new breasts and nipples, warning him that they would itch like crazy, but telling him that the cream would soothe them, plus it was pleasant to apply. What was not so nice was when she put him back into a black coloured corset and pulled the laces so tight he could hardly breathe. He was amazed at how small his waist was, and the built in bra cups pushed up and displayed the tops of his breasts, but he had to stop thinking about them and pull on, very carefully, some very sheer black stockings and connect them to the suspenders on the corset. He was handed a miniscule item of clothing, bright red in colour, to find that it was a small triangle with elastic, a g-string. He wondered how much of him it would cover and got the answer when he saw himself in the mirror, it was everything. His parts were so small it was all that was needed to make him decent. In the meantime, Poppy helped him on with a pair of black patent leather heels that were five inches high, and she locked on his feet by means of an ankle strap. The surprise was that he found them quite comfortable after the six inch heels he had been wearing. What he didn't find was a surprise was that as he walked, he found that he was wiggling his bum and holding his hands up by his sides, limp wrested. The woman then helped him into very short but voluminous white petticoats followed by a black satin dress, the skirt of which was held out at right angles by the froth underneath and the low top showed a pronounced cleavage. His uniform was completed with a tiny cap with black ribbons hanging down and a small but very decorative white, gauzy apron. They then both went downstairs to the kitchen and she asked if he could cook. He told her that he managed, so he was told to familiarise himself with what was there and she would be back shortly. "Something that I could let you find out for yourself, Giselle, but I've decided to warn you instead. If you attempt to leave this building further than the patio at the back, your collar will be activated by a system usually used to control animals, that we've had adapted." He wasn't sure whether to believe her or not, but decided he wouldn't try unless a really good chance came along. In the meantime, he had a good look round the kitchen, well equipped enough, he thought, to be installed in a restaurant. The larder was a cooled, walk in room, and together with the contents of the fridge and freezers, all of epic sizes, he reckoned that they had enough provisions to last out a long siege. Shortly, as promised, Poppy came back and asked him if he could make her and her sister a light lunch, pointing out that he would serve them and could eat after they had finished and he had cleared up. He told her he could and blitzed some left over vegetables and chicken, then put them on to heat. In the meantime, he oven baked some frozen part cooked bread rolls, and coarsely cut some more chicken and added it, together with some cream and a dash or two of Worcestershire sauce, to the soup. Fifteen minutes later, he decided to search for his jailers, finding them relaxing each side of a small table in the large windowed day room at what he saw was the side of the house. "Lunch will be about five minutes, where would you like it to be served," then added, "Mistresses." "What is it Giselle?" asked Primrose. "Chicken soup and hot crusty roll, Mistress." "As you remembered to call us by our proper titles, Giselle I won't punish you this time, but the next time you enter our presence, you will wait in the doorway with your head bowed and wait for us to ask you a question. You will also curtsey when you enter or leave, and every time we give you an instruction to show us you've heard and understand. Got that?" Primrose asked him. "Whenever you are serving us, you pay attention to us, if you wish to speak, stand still and bow your head." "Yes, Mistress." He curtseyed, but not very well. "You will serve us the meal here, Giselle." He curtseyed again and went in search of the dining room, where he found the necessary cutlery and some place mats, returning to the day room, curtseying, and laying the table. In the promised five minutes he set the soup, rolls, butter dish and condiments down in front of them, curtseyed and stood back while they ate. "O.M.G.," Poppy exclaimed. "This soup is delicious, how did you make it so quickly Giselle?" "I found some leftovers in the fridge, checked that there was nothing wrong with them, and used them for the soup, Mistress." He curtseyed, but while not mentioning the sauce he put in, he also noticed that every time he was spoken to, they used his new name. He treated them with respect, they certainly knew how to brainwash someone without the normal subject really noticing it. "I want you to practice curtseying Giselle, let us see you." Following the order from Primrose, he did a succession of curtseys, followed their further instruction until he was proficient. Once satisfied, they set him to clear up the table and fetch them coffees, then he was allowed to have his own lunch. The next training session had him wearing an ankle length kitchen apron and they took him again up to the long room. This time Poppy told him that they weren't going to attach anything to his arms or legs, but if he didn't move correctly, he was being videoed and they would review the disc afterwards and punish him accordingly. This time there was a seat at one end of the room with a pressure pad on it. He was to practice sitting, standing and walking. First he had to sit on the seat, tucking his skirt under his bottom, keeping his knees together turn them to one side then the other, then stand, walk in the way he'd been taught to the other end of the room, curtsey, then return and sit down, to start the whole process again. They reminded him that the better he did the better he would be treated, and although he had to do this exercise, they told him, he had made such a nice lunch they would go easy on him. That included, they pointed out that he was still in five inch heels and not the six inch they had intended, and there was no automatic punishment by his collar, so the odd mistake would be tolerated. He knew enough about the Stockholm Syndrome to know that they were trying to speed the process of having a tame pet. He didn't trust them and still intended to escape at the earliest opportunity, but he still cooperated, doing exactly as he was told. That evening he was told that as he had been so good, he was going to have a special present the next day. He wasn't pleased, as he knew that their idea of a present to him wasn't something he would like, and he wasn't wrong. For the first time, he was given a real bedroom to sleep in, although he heard the lock turning while he was exploring these new surroundings. He was glad of the comfortable bed though, and being able to move without being strapped down. First thing a new woman came into the room and visited him. "Hello Giselle," she said, "I've just come to make sure you're OK." She took his pulse, then told him she was going to take a blood sample, told him to look away, but instead of taking a sample, she injected something into his arm. In no time he felt light headed, then the next he knew he was waking up in bed feeling battered and bruised. "Hi Giselle," Poppy came breezing into his room, "today you are a new woman." He grunted and tried to move but she stopped him. "Have a little rest today, you went through a lot yesterday." "What happened?" He was shocked that he sounded like a young girl and immediately reached down to his groin. There was almost nothing there, his penis was tiny and he had no balls, only slight swellings behind his penis in his perineum.. In spite of being horizontal in bed, he passed out. The next few days were spent recovering from the operation done by the woman who put him out. The other procedures she carried out were breast implants, removing two of his ribs, enhancing his lips, and giving him liposuction around his waist. He was only able to establish that she was a doctor as they only referred to her as Doctor Irene. He had to get up each day for longer periods, every time having to walk in the long room, always back in six inch heels and having a new centre of gravity with huge breasts tipped still with his ever larger and sensitive nipples. With his narrow waist and quite large butt he felt like a human Barbie doll. The Doctor came back to examine him one day, but ignored any questions he asked her, telling him that he would enjoy his improvements in the long run. In many days after that, they started him back into his corsets, not tight at first, but gradually making them tighter each day. "Great news, Giselle," Primrose announced one afternoon, "we're having a party tonight and you've got a really special costume, you're going to look darling." He was taken back to the room with the rising table, stripped to his corset, and now placed in a comfortable padded chair with a table in front of it that was covered with cosmetics. While Poppy combed his still short hair, applying a mouse to style it, Primrose dabbed foundation on his face with a damp sponge. "Your so lucky to have such clear skin," she commented. She glued false eyelashes onto top and bottom of his eyelids, while Poppy moved on to glue what could only be described as stage false nails onto his own. They were ridiculously long, mostly nearly two inches beyond his own, and they were painted bright metallic red. He could feel Primrose painting eyeliner extending well beyond the edge of his eyes and she told him that she was using the same black to give him a beauty spot. Poppy asked if he should be given a bright blush, which she got an affirmative answer, Primrose finishing him with what he could see was the same shade of red lipstick as his nails, while Poppy gave him matching toe nails. They stood him up and stripped him off completely, then replaced his corset with another, built even stronger, he noticed, with more boning, finished in a bright pink satin with red piping and narrow lace top and bottom, and was fitted with quarter cups that held his now huge breasts but came to well below his now quite sore nipples. It was tightened until even they were amazed at his waist, Poppy measured it and pronounced it down to only just over sixteen inches, it was little wonder that he was having to gasp for breath. Pink stockings were attached to the suspenders on the corset , then small sleeves, like the ones he had during training were slid up his arms, fastening his forearms bent still at right angles to the upper parts, then others, very similar, were tightened round his wrists, to make sure his hands always hung downwards. Then long pink silk evening gloves were pulled up his arms right to the tops, to cover the fastenings, but all the fingers and thumb sections were sewn together so that although it looked as if he had free movement, he had very little. Each finger of the glove had a cut off end, to display his nails. Even the little movement he had was then prevented by a hidden cord that kept his elbows well tucked in to his waist. He could see that they were attaching a fluffy pink feather headdress onto his hair at the back, but of course couldn't see anything from his shoulders upwards. They gently moved him backwards, so the his backside rested on a high bar stool that Poppy had brought in. "You've got to rest here for a bit, Giselle," Primrose told him. "We'll be back in a bit." He lost track of the time he was standing there, but was just grateful that although he still couldn't breathe well, he could at least remain flat footed, even though he noticed that he was so used to heels, that without them he wasn't as comfortable as he used to be. From time to time he could hear music playing, and the sound of laughter, but it was long after that when the sisters returned. Between them they had him lie down once more on the flat table, but was warned not to let his head rest as it would spoil his hat. Then long leather boots again in pink were drawn up his legs, almost getting to his stocking tops, they were laced all the way up so tight that he knew he was going to have to walk stiff legged, but once they pulled him to his feet, he realised that the heels were so high, it was only his tip toes that touched the ground. "These aren't quite as bad as they look, Giselle," Primrose told him, "they are reinforced round the ankle and down the heel, so you can feel that nearly all your weight is being taken on your ankles to the heel." Poppy, meanwhile had attached what he first thought was a skirt to his hips, but was only down his two sides, leaving his behind and crotch in clear view. It was a pink chiffon material studded with thousands of small pink sequins and they came down to his knees on both sides. Primrose fastened something round his neck, telling him that it was another shock collar that had a pink leather lead attached, she warned him not to fight against being pulled by the lead, as if it was put under too much strain, the shock would work. Primrose pushed a penis gag into his mouth and fastened it behind his head, not only was a penis down his throat, a huge pink one stuck out as if from his mouth. He was led out of the room and helped down the flights of stairs towards the sound of music. Just before he got there, they stopped and he realised that his now small penis was still bare, rather than cover it. Poppy tied a pink ribbon round the base of it in a pretty bow. As the music paused he was led into the room. To his horror there must have been twenty or thirty women, mostly sat around drinking, but some looked as if they had been dancing, while others were blatantly kissing and fondling each other, one couple being almost naked. He had never felt so humiliated, wishing the ground would swallow him. He thought, if he'd known this was going to happen while he was at the top of the stairs, he would have jumped. Amid hoots and shouts of laughter, Primrose raised her hand for quiet. "Ladies, you know that we have all scoured the land for an ideal man." She had to stop for the calls of derision and booing. "Well now's your chance, this fine specimen will mingle this evening for you to wonder at his manly beauty, his cave man sexual presence. Don't be shy if you would like to try out his handsome manhood tonight, who knows, you may fall in love and want to marry him," At that point she had to stop because the noise of the banter was too great. Several of the women came over to him and started to paw his body, painfully pulling his penis and squeezing his nipples. He noticed how expensively they were all dressed and then one of them, a woman who spoke with a plum in her mouth took him by the lead. "Darling, this is exactly what I have been looking for, but tell me, what's that awful deformity between her legs?" "Oh! Nasty! Cut it off!" another woman shouted. The first woman paraded him round the room, everyone laughing at his mincing walk, many of them recording him on their telephones. "Just a moment," a woman called, and rummaged in a large bag next to her. "A wriggle like that deserves a prize." She pulled out a huge strap-on and without any pause, jammed it dry up his behind, first lifting him into the air, then as he fell on his front she pushed with all her strength to fully embed the large dildo which she then strapped round his hips. Another woman turned him over, pulled down her panties and impaled herself on the dildo in his mouth. His breathing was difficult enough as it was, with the corset, adding the pressure on his mouth from the gag and his nose pressed into her smaller hole, it was impossible. When the first woman had climaxed, she was pushed off by a second who took her place, soon there was a queue of impatient women, someone saying they wanted to take the opportunity of their first sex with a man. Everyone was laughing and joking. Suddenly there were three deafening explosions and flashes so bright that for a moment most of them were blinded. There were swarms of black clothed men wearing helmets and gasmasks and waving sub-machine guns, telling everyone to get on the floor. Once all the female guests had been searched and lined up against one wall, two suited men entered with some police officers. "These aren't bloody Al Qaeda," the taller one said. "Where's Jim Toliver?" Two of the masked men were examining an inert figure on the floor, one of them started to try resuscitation, pumping at the chest under the huge breasts. After about ten minutes, they gave up. "I don't understand it, why would a group of women kidnap a member of the Manchester anti-terrorist squad?" Primrose put her hand up and asked if she could speak. "We didn't know that he was a policeman, he looked too small, we only wanted to have some fun with him." "He didn't tell you," a much younger man in a plain suit told her, "because clubbing no one wanted to be seen with a copper, they were too afraid they'd be done for drugs, so he kept it a secret. If you hadn't taken him to such a remote part, with no cell signal, we'd have had him out of here a week or more ago." "Who is that dead woman?" the apparent Boss asked Primrose. She looked over at the body. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed. "It's Giselle, I mean, I think it's the man you are looking for." Many of the women at that party returned to quiet lives, aware that the slightest trouble they caused in the future would bring the full weight of the anti- terror men down on them. The exception was a Doctor Irene McDonald, who was charged with malpractice and agreed to accept a large fine and being struck off, instead of appearing in court. The whole business was hushed up, but the American women on their yacht at Cowes week wondered why Primrose and Poppy didn't turn up for some fun with them. Meanwhile, in a rather dirty jail in a small South American country, where the Head Warden owed a favour to an English intelligence officer, two English beauties spent a number of years being the bitches for some very large and smelly jailed prostitute's Madames.