I Wasn't Who They Thought I Was! free porn video

I WASN'T WHO THEY THOUGHT I WAS! (But soon became who they wanted me to be!) By Missy SatinPanties I was on my last legs, really my last. I had lost my crappy minimum wage job, and with no income, was tossed out of my crappy studio apartment, and I was now spending most of my last $4.97 on a crappy burger and fries. I had only one, slim chance left. I had applied for a vague job that seemed to have something to do with taking care of a house. I sort of assumed it was yard work or something. Now, I had no idea if I was qualified, as I was no burly handyman like my old man. No, I was built more like my Mother. I was slight, short, had a very fair complexion, long brown hair, and about as much body hair as a snake. I was supposed to meet this lady here at this national burger chain that doesn't do clowns anymore and I was starved. I got here a bit early to wolf down the first chow I'd had today, and maybe the last I would have for a while. I had just sat down and wiped my hands after binning the trash, when this older lady walked up to the table and in a rather British accent, asked if I was here to meet someone about a job. I was a bit confused as to how she knew it was me, but answered in the affirmative. I took a good look at her. She was on the right side of 50, maybe even early 40s. Not heavy, but the way she was dressed, and the way her hair was covered by a scarf, was the definition of frumpy. She sat down across from me and asked if I had CV. I looked puzzled she just chuckled and asked for my resume. I handed her the skimpy document, and after barely glancing at it, and began to ask questions. Her questions didn't seem to have anything to do with any sort of qualifications. She asked mostly personal questions like when I graduated high school, did I have a girl friend, did I like video games, and so on. She asked about a hundred more, about my family, my financial situation, and so on. She learned that my parents had divorced, and the whereabouts of my mother were unknown. My father was a drunk, and after crashing his car, was an invalid living in a V.A. facility. And so on. After about 15 minutes of questions that had little to do with any damn job, she reached into her bag, and pulled out a paper and a pen. "This is your contract for services," she said rather pompously, "and it is a binding contract. Room and board will be provided both during your training period, and when you actually begin your job. I think you should read this very carefully before you sign." Hell, I was already hungry again, and the words "room and board" sounded like a sign from heaven. A sign, yes it was. From heaven, no, not so much. I signed, and with that I was told to come outside with her. There was a beautiful new Jaguar SUV parked right next to my 24 year old Toyota Corolla. She asked me which one was my car, and blushing, I pointed out the beat up piece of crap that was mine. She told me that the car would be taken care of soon, and to get my bags, and get in with her. (Good thing, too. My insurance had lapsed yesterday, and the registration for the car was coming due in about 3 days.) I grabbed my two suitcases, and heaved them into the back of the Jag, and started to climb in. "Uh, no, young man," she said, "Please get in the back seat, if you please. And buckle your seat belt." Well, I wondered what was going on! We drove about an hour, and she asked me if I was nervous. When I told her I was, she giggled, and told me she had something to help, but I couldn't tell anyone. With that, she handed me a little leather covered silver flask, and told me to take a couple good swigs of the brandy, it would help. I did, and as I was handing the flask back, I could feel my body begin to turn to lead, and within a few moments, was out cold. When I woke up, I was freezing! I was lying on a very thin, plastic covered pad, on the floor of a small, very empty room. There was a single light bulb in the ceiling that had to be all of 20 watts. Oh yeah, I was butt-assed naked! I tried to sit up, but was dizzy and sort of sick. What the hell was in that brandy? I tried to lay back down, but the cold was getting to me, so I got up, and thought I would walk around a bit to get my circulation going. I stepped of the little pad, and I felt as though my foot was standing on a block of ice! I ended up standing on the pad, sort of hugging myself, and trying to keep warm. I had been at it for a few minutes when there was a popping sound, and a voice came out of a hidden speaker. Needless to say, I jumped, and to my embarrassment, squealed like a girl! "Hello," an emotionless disembodied voice began, "Today is the first day of your training. Training is very, very simple. You do what you are told, and you will be much more comfortable and happy. Disobey, and suffer. Right now, the room you are in is about 55 degrees Fahrenheit (12.8 C), and is falling. Unless you get some clothes on, after a very short time, you will begin to experience hypothermia. Do you want to put some clothes on?" Duh! I yelled out, that, "Hell yes I wanted my clothes back!" I also started screaming that I wanted out of this room, wanted to get the hell out of wherever I was, and so on. I yelled until I was hoarse, and then that same calm, unemotional voice asked me again if I wanted to put some clothes on. Resigned for the moment, I just whispered, "Yes." A panel in the wall slid back, revealing a little compartment. "Put on the clothing provided, and your situation will improve. Or..." I walked the few steps over, cringing at how cold the floor was. In the compartment was, was? What kind of joke was this? There was a pair of lacy, lavender panties! "Hey, I yelled, where the hell are my clothes?" Again the almost robotic voice answered me, "put on the clothing you are given, and things will get better. Disobey, and suffer. The room is now down to 47 degrees, and will get colder." With no real options, I pulled the silky things up my legs. Almost as soon as I got them up around my waist, I could feel a blast of warm air hitting me. Within a very few minutes, the room was a very comfortable temperature, and the floor was actually warm. I was confused, and my head was spinning at a million RPM when the voice came back over the speaker. "Your lunch is here," it said, "The same principle applies to eating as to dressing. Your comfort or suffering are all in your hands." A slot in an almost hidden door opened, and a tray was shoved through. It looked like oatmeal and a glass of juice. I realized I was starved, and without thinking, grabbed the spoon and dug in. I wolfed down the bland oatmeal, and then chugged the small glass of juice in moments. And quickly felt the same heaviness come over me. I managed to almost stagger back to the thin pad that seemed to be my mattress, when I just folded up as though I had no bones. I have just a vague memory of some sort of soft music playing, and a voice I could almost hear. When I came to this time, I realized I was in a bed. It was a metal cot sort of affair, but it had a thicker mattress and a blanket. Along the wall was now a small chest of drawers painted white. And the pattern of the previous day continued. For how long it was going to continue, I had no idea. Every night I would go to sleep to that soft music and just not quite understandable voice, and every day, I would wake up in this new bed, and find a new piece of clothing on the dresser. Sometimes it would be a pair of girls shoes, you know, the kind little girls wear, all shiny black with a little strap across the instep? It might be a lace covered training bra, nylon ankle socks, and there was always a pair of panties. Each pair was in some pastel like pink, mint green, lavender, white, baby blue, or peach. Each one was made of shiny satin, and had loads of ruffles and lace. It was always this sort of prissy underwear. This was the sort of stuff that maybe a 5 year old playing princess would wear. Never anything in cotton, or any kind of outwear. No trousers, jeans, shirts, nothing! I was never visited, never had any questions answered, just an emotionless voice over the speaker, and either comfort or suffering. One day, when I'd sort of had enough, and refused to put on a matching bra, camisole, and panties, I got more of what they called suffering. The room started to get very hot, and some sort of atonal screeching music came out of the speakers at an ungodly volume. I was sweating like a whore in church, and trying to block my ears, and finally, reached over and grabbed the panties. As soon as I did, the room went silent, and I could feel the air conditioning come on. So, they were watching me, I supposed they could hear me, but chose to ignore what I said. Each day, along with my "choice" to wear something, came an instructional video. A panel would slide open to reveal a large, flat screen TV. There would be a short video, each time showing some sort of girlish behavior. Once it was how to curtsey. Another was showing a girl putting her little finger in her mouth, sort of hang her head, but look sideways at the camera, and put one foot behind the other, sort of twisting it back and forth. It looked like a 5 year old girl trying to wheedle something from Daddy. There were videos on walking in heels. I watched that one a few times, not by choice, however. Daily videos were on how to sit, how to stand, how to walk in a dainty manner, how to hold my hands, swing my hips, and so on. Each video depicted one very dainty, feminine and, well, submissive posture or movement. After each video, I was instructed to copy the subject on the screen, over and over, and over, and over. I think if I ever hear the words, "Now, again!" I'll scream! The other thing that had me totally weirded out, as if I didn't have enough going on in that department, was what the voice called, "My elocution lessons." I would hear a word, phrase, or sentence, and then have to repeat it back, trying to exactly mimic the speaker. The speaker had a high pitched girly voice, and she lisped. I had to pitch my voice higher, make it breathy, and lisp like a little girl. Even some of the words, while not lisped, were very little girlish. For example, I was never told to repeat the words, father, dad, pops, or anything else, it was Daddy, or Daddykins, and sometimes even dada! Words like little had to be pronounced widdle, and so on, and so on. This would occupy hours of my day, and after a while, I even thought in a lisping, girl's voice. Geesh! And the whole comfort/suffer game was still going on. For example, after watching the curtsey video, I was required to perform until I had it correct. When I had achieved the level of mastery required, I was told to go to the compartment that had just opened, and take out the new shoes, put them on, and go back to my curtseys. So, there I was, wearing a pair of pink satin panties with baby blue lace and ribbons, a matching training bra, white nylon ankle socks, and short white satin gloves with a cloud of satin ruffles around the cuffs. Now I was also wearing a pair of white high heeled pumps. Again, I was told to start practicing, which was a hundred times harder in the heels. I mean, just walking back to the center of the room after putting on the heels was an adventure in balance! After like, forever, I was told I had it right. Then, I was told that I had to execute 150 perfect curtseys, or suffer. By this time, I didn't need the bloody or else, and I did my best to perform the required number of curtseys, was fed, and dropped off the sleep. The next day, it started all over again. The only change I could see was that when I watched a video on how to walk, both the anonymous model on the screen, and I, were wearing high heels. I don't know why women wear the damn things! They hurt, they were uncomfortable, and made everyday things like walking and standing a chore. It was about this time that the following conversation took part in a room a few stories above me. I wasn't privy to the conversation, of course, but found out about some time later. It involved the sort of frumpy lady I met at the hamburger joint, and a very pretty young thing that turned out to be her daughter. The no-longer-frumpy-looking woman sat down at the table with her coffee, and scooted her chair around so she could look at her daughter perched on a stool at the kitchen island. She was wearing a white blouse that was just sheer enough to notice the lacy black bra underneath holding her large firm breasts in place, tight black jeans, and black pumps. Her hair was no longer gray, that was just a bit of theatrical powder that washed out in moments. It was now back to its former auburn glory, and fanned about her shoulders. She had just turned 50, but unless you saw her birth certificate, you wouldn't believe she was over 37 or so. She looked at her daughter, Lisa, who was right about the same 5'6 as she was, but very slim, with perfectly shaped c cup breasts, and looked almost elfin. If her hair wasn't a shimmery blonde, Karen thought, she would look like early pictures of Audrey Hepburn. She was wearing nothing but a pale blue lacy bra, matching panties, a sheer peignoir, and marabou trimmed, high heeled slippers. Her first thought was a very un-motherly, "God I want her back in my bed, now!" Shaking her head, she brought the subject back on track. "Lisa," she began again, "that boy in the basement isn't the one we thought he was! I looked again at the dates, and you mixed the two up! This loser was trying to find a job as the maintenance guy! Now, I ask you, him doing maintenance? He doesn't have the strength to pick up a tool box, let alone use anything in it! But still, he didn't come here for this. Lisa stretched a bit and looked at her mother, with whom she had indeed been in bed with a few hours earlier, and pointed out the obvious. "Mom, he signed the contract, It's been notarized, and it's all legal! Everything is all spelled out in the contract. It's not our fault he failed to read the silly thing!" "I know, Honey," Her mother sort of sighed, "and he is perfect, isn't he? Medically sound, no family or friends to wonder about him, physically perfect for our project, and his will is almost non-existent. I just wish that he was the one who actually wanted to start the project." "Mom!" the blonde replied, "You saw that one! He was too tall, too old, about 50 pounds overweight, and as ugly as two miles of bad road! He lied to us about his physical condition, his living circumstances, everything! The only thing he had going for him was a panty fetish! He was YUCK!" she finished shaking her head. "Yes, I know, sweetheart, I was the one who was lucky enough to actually sit at the same table as that fat turd, you were across the way. And anyway, we do have everything scheduled for tomorrow, don't we?" That night, I supposed it was night, as I had no window, no clock, and no idea what time or even what day it was, I ate my bland food, and again, felt that drugged sleep creep up on me. I made it into the bed, and that was that. When I came to, I was very tired, groggy, and very sore. My back, face, chest, all hurt, and I soon realized I was bound in the bed. This time, though, it was some sort of hospital bed, and I realized I had a few tubes running into me! I lay there in a half-stupor, half-panic mode for I don't know how long. Finally, I heard a noise, and realized someone was coming through the door. Again, I don't know how long I had been in this bizarre Hell, but just a quick count of the number of new bits of frilly lingerie that showed up in ones or twos whenever I woke up, I would have to guess at least a month, maybe more. In all that time, I had never spoken with anyone, or seen anyone. Now, I recently had some sort of hazy dreams that involved people walking into the room, touching me, moving me somewhere, and doing something to me, but the more I tried to concentrate on them, the more they slipped away. The only human contact I had wince my "interview" was that calm voice, and a silent figure on a TV screen. I really couldn't even tell if she was pretty, as she was wearing a pink latex leotard and a pink rubbery mask with just small eye and mouth holes. Hell, I wasn't even 100% certain it was a she! I turned my head, which was about the only thing I could move, and saw a beautiful woman come through the door. Blonde hair, beautiful eyes, and a figure that any man would love. She was wearing a high heels, a very short plaid skirt in pink, blue and purple, and a white blouse that seemed to be made of satin. But most importantly, the blouse was sheer enough to allow a full view of her lacy pink bra. I was staring at her so hard, I almost missed the man standing beside her in a typical doctor's smock. They were quietly talking, I assume about me. The doctor type walked over and checked my pulse, looked into my eyes, nose, and ears, and then pulled off the thin sheet that was covering me. He probed my legs, chest, arms, but the whole time, he said nothing to me, other than when I tried to talk, he told me to be quiet for now, or it would damage my throat permanently. This scared me enough to shut up. Apparently satisfied, he walked over to the blonde beauty, nodded, and left. Moments later, two nurses came in, and after telling me to relax, and to keep very quiet, they began to undo the tubes that ran into my arms, and the straps that held me to the bed. They helped me to stand, or at least they tried. My legs felt as though they were made of rubber bands, and no amount of will power would make them hold my weight. One of the nurses knelt down and put a pair of what appeared to be pink satin ballet slippers on my feet. Once she had done that, a diaphanous robe of pink was slipped on over my arms, and the pearl buttons done up. I noticed right away that the robe and slippers matched my panties, and I approved. For some reason, this didn't bother me. I seemed to accept the overly feminine attire. Strange. Then, each nurse took one arm, and they began to walk me around the room. Little by little some strength came back into my legs, and soon, I almost, sort of, felt normal. I was led to the little closet in the corner, where a full length mirror was positioned, although it was covered by a sheet. The sheet was removed, and I was almost tempted to scream! I did manage to croak out a, "what the hell!?" The blonde walked over to me and told me to relax, it was all part of the contract I had signed, and if I continued to try to talk, I would seriously damage my vocal cords. "Although," she said darkly, "Some of our clients might like a mute slave." That shook me to the core! "Let me give you a tour of the new you," She said, as the two nurses kept firm grips on my arms. "First of all, your eyebrows have been shaped, your nose has been bobbed a bit, your cute little lips have been plumped up, and your Adam's apple has been surgically reduced. Oh, and the reason you shouldn't talk is that we have done a little work on your vocal cords, and your voice should be a whole lot higher than it used to be." I was staring into the mirror, and I could feel my whole body shaking with fear. "Let's see, you will have already noticed the beautiful little B cup breasts we've given you, and of course, generous use of laser hair removal has insured that you will never have to shave anywhere, ever again! We did a little work to that flat bottom of yours, giving you a small, but ever so cute bubble butt. Let's see, did we mess with anything else?" I was desperately trying to get my hands to my panties (MY panties? What the hell was I thinking?) to see if everything was still there. The blonde saw me, and chuckled. She reached through the peignoir, and pulled the front of the panties down, allowing me to see that my penis and balls were still there. Whew! She pulled the panties up, and sort of patted my crotch. "Oh yes, one more little thing," she said, sort of giggling, "The only other thing we were thinking about doing was using your recovery time to stretch your little asshole with various butt plugs, but we thought it would be a bit more, shall we say, delicious, to watch you squirm as they got bigger in size." I had no idea why I would want to do that, until I looked in the mirror, and saw a boy in pink satin and chiffon, long brown hair, full lips, small breasts, and suddenly I knew that my ass was going to be stretched, not for dildos, but for... I started to yell, and at that moment, a syringe was plunged into my upper arm, and the world went gray, then black. I have no idea how long I was out, but when I came to, I was still strapped into the bed, but this time with no IV lines. My body seemed to not hurt anywhere, which was a relief, but I was still strapped to a hospital bed, and looked more like a girl than a man. What the hell was going to happen to me? I could guess, but each guess was darker, and more horrible than the last. For some hazy reason, I started to think that this was what I wanted. Thoughts were running through my head, like, I wanted to wear pretty panties, I wanted to wear delicate satin nighties, I wanted to be a submissive little sissy. But the other half of my brain kept yelling that I had never wanted anything like this! Confused and muddled thinking, and eyelids that seemed to weigh a hundred pounds each, caused me to give up the debate, and sink back into sleep for a little longer. When I finally fully woke up, the sun was streaming in through the window, and I realized it had been a long time since I had seen the sun! A nurse had been sitting on a chair near the bed, reading. And when she heard me moving, she picked up a glass of water with a straw, and had me drink some water. I felt like I hadn't had a drink in weeks, and tried to suck the whole glass up in one go. When she finally pulled the straw away, I had gotten half the glass down me, and felt a lot better. I started to ask her a question, and when I heard my voice, I stopped. Several times I tried to talk, but each time my voice was as high pitched as a little girl's. I finally remembered what I had been told, and started to ask the nurse where I was, what was happening, and so on. What I heard coming out of my mouth sickened me. I was speaking in a high pitched girls voice, and I was speaking like a little girl, lisping without even thinking about it, and, and, and...Oh shit! I sounded just like the lessons I had practiced over and over again. I sounded like a simpering little girl, or some kind of, oh no, that's it! A simpering little sissy! I was unstrapped from the bed, dressed in my peignoir and slippers, again by two nurses, and led around the room until I was somewhat stable. The left me sitting on the side of the bed, and one went out and pushed a wheeled tray, and I could smell food. Real food this time! Some kind of meat! She pushed it in front of me, and took off the cover, and I saw roast chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans. The portions were very small, but it looked wonderful! I was told to eat slowly so I didn't get sick, and I did, but still got sick. It didn't matter, it tasted great! The nurses helped me clean up, and get back into bed, although this time I wasn't strapped in. They brought me some water and a small bowl of gelatin, and left me to my thoughts. The next day I woke up to find myself in an altogether different room. This one looked like a little girl's fantasy princess room. The floor was light maple and covered here and there with pink and white fluffy rugs. The walls were pale pink, and all the woodwork was glossy white. The room was full of white, French Provincial furniture, including a night stand, a dresser, and what I realized was a vanity, complete with little padded stool and huge mirror. The bed I was in was a large canopy bed, with pink satin sheets, a lace-trimmed, dark pink satin comforter, and the canopy seemed to be layers of pink chiffon. I gingerly pulled the covers back and swung my legs out of bed. The first thing I noticed was that I was wearing a peach colored satin babydoll nightgown and matching panties. I also noticed that my legs were splayed out, and I suddenly realized why. Under those pretty panties was a very thick disposable diaper, and it was wet! I sat there, sort of stunned, and wondered where the hell my life was going. One day, I was a guy, okay a guy way, way down on his luck, with no job, no home, and no future. Seemingly the very next day, I looked and sounded like a little girl, and was wearing diapers! Everything that had happened to me over the last, who knows how long, flooded into my head, and all I could do was sit on the edge of that frilly bed, wearing a frilly nightie and diapers, and cry. Great wracking sobs shook my body, and somewhere along the way I realized that I was peeing the diapers again, which made me cry harder! I didn't hear the door open, but I felt someone sit down on the bed beside me, and hold a tissue to my nose. Instinctively, like a little child, I blew my nose into the proffered tissue. A soft arm went around my shoulders, and another tissue was used to wipe my eyes. I looked up and saw that same beautiful blonde woman who scared the hell out of me in the hospital (Was it a real hospital?). She was wearing a pair of jeans and a sort of loose silk top, and looked somehow younger and softer than the first time I saw her, even though she had been dressed in a sexy parody of a school girl outfit. She held me for the longest time, and then sort of turned my head so I was facing her. "My name is Lisa," she told me softly. "I want to find out what to call you." I started to stammer out that my name was Ian, when she put her finger to my lips and continued, "I don't care what your name was. What I want to know is what you think the prettiest girl's name in the whole world is. Don't think about it, just blurt it out." I had been in desperate love/lust with a girl from school from 9th grade on. I thought she was most beautiful and feminine creature God had ever put on the face of the earth, although she wouldn't give me the time of day. Her name was on my tongue, and I just blurted out, "Melissa!" She beamed at me and told me that from now on, my name would be Melissa. "You, see," she went on, "I think we need to talk about how you got here, why we've done the things we've done, and what's going to happen going forward. First of all, the contract you signed, that you were warned to read but didn't, gave us permission to perform the various surgeries that have transformed you into a rather beautiful little thing. We have paid for all of your clothes so far, and for the rather extensive wardrobe you will leave her with. You see, the only thing we need to find out is just what sort of wardrobe you will need!" "I don't understand at all," I lisped, with the word understand coming out more like "underthand," "What do you mean about when I leave here, and what clothes I will need?" "Melissa, dear little Sissy Melissa, haven't you figured it out yet? Okay, I'll spell it out. We take willing little sissies who sign our contract, train them, condition them, even do a little surgical alteration on them, and then sell them to the highest bidder. Some want a male sissy maid. Some want a lover. Some want a little Lolita doll. Some want an adult baby. All want some sort of sexual servant. So, depending on who wants you, your wardrobe will change. But, between now and then, we have some more training to go through." "Wike what, Wisa?" I lisped. Well, you know how to act like a sissy, but we need to work on some specific strength and flexibility training. I know you're weak after spending almost 4 months here and the 40 days in bed. After that, we need to work on things like faking sexual pleasure, and how to suck a man's cock." After the shock of learning how long I had been here, I sort of missed the last bit of the sentence, but would soon learn that my foreknowledge and cooperation weren't needed. That day, I sort of just floated. I stayed in that wonderful bed, just enjoying the feeling of my lingerie against the satin sheets. Lisa had helped me remove my diaper, and then helped me into the shower. I was still as weak as a kitten, both from forced inactivity, and I suspect the drugs that hadn't left my system yet. Once I was cleaned up, and yes, re-diapered in thick cloth diapers and plastic panties, breakfast was delivered. Hot, sweet oatmeal with cream, two slices of bacon, a hardboiled egg, and tea. I thought I had died and gone to heaven! I ate as slowly as possible, and thankfully didn't get sick. Breakfast done, I snuggled back under the covers and drifted off. Unfortunately, the next day was not to be one of lazy drifting. I was jerked awake by the lights coming on, very brightly, and an extremely loud buzzing from the speakers. That day, I was introduced to yoga. My uniform of the day was a pink Lycra leotard, white tights and my ballet slippers. My instructor was the same figure from the TV, same outfit, even wearing the same mask. Instructions were delivered in a soft voice, and every time I asked a question, unless it was about a pose, my instructor told me to stay on task. After 3 hours of trying to force my rubbery legs and weak arms into the positions had me sweating and exhausted. I was led back across the hall from the exercise room (for lack of anything better to call it) to my bedroom, where I was fed a very light lunch. After that, it was back across the hall for something called Pilates. By the mid-afternoon, I felt as though I had just run a marathon while carrying an elephant. A nurse was in my room to help me shower, and I ate a light dinner in her presence. Dinner done, I was helped out of the robe, and into a beautiful white babydoll nightie with baby blue ruffles and ribbon trim. I was expecting a matching pair of panties, when I was told to lay back so I could be diapered. When I asked why, I was told that if I had to go in the night, I might not be able to make it to the "potty," so diapers were the solution. Tonight, though, they were very thick cloth diapers, with a very noisy pair of blues translucent plastic panties. She then pulled on some white satin booties and tied them with blue ribbon. Finally, I was told to hold my hands out, and sort of roll them, fingers extended. I did, and she slid a pair of white satin mittens onto each hand that had no fingers, no thumbs, and very, very little room for movement. There seemed to be a thick layer of padding between the inner and outer layers, and they effectively made my hands useless. When she tied the blue ribbon at the wrist, I was truly helpless. With all the exercise during the day, as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was gone. When I was shocked awake by the light and the noise, I realized that the diapers were a good thing, as they were soaked! The nurse entered, removed my plastic panties, and then my diaper. She took off my booties and mittens, and told me to take a shower. While I was in the shower, I couldn't help noticing that the water hitting the nipples of my new boobs felt kinda good, and started to play with them. Almost as soon as I did, the water turned to ice! I jerked my hands away, squealing in pain, and just as quickly, the water was hot again. I shakily finished my shower, washing my now rather long hair twice, and stepped out to dry myself. The nurse was waiting, and helped me to get dry, and to blow dry my hair. I thought I would be put back into my leotard right away, but was told to lie down on the bed, on my back. The blonde that I now knew as Lisa, entered the room with a small gym bag in her hand. She pulled out some black things, and before I knew it, my wrists were strapped into black leather cuffs which were then attached to the headboard. My ankles were cuffed, and very quickly, I was spread eagled on the bed, at the mercy of my captors. From out of the bag, Lisa pulled a shiny silver thing, and held it up to me. It was, well, it sort of looked like the framework for an old 1930s Zeppelin, although it was bent...Shit! I've seen those things before on porn movies! That's a chastity device! I started to yell out that I wanted her to get that thing away from me, when suddenly, I felt the nurse jam something in my mouth. It was hard, but rubbery, and thick and long enough to not only fill my mouth, but to cause me to start to gag. She buckled the straps to this gag behind my head, tight! I tried to use my teeth and tongue to force it out, but it was like a baby trying to push a Buick, there was no way. "Yes, Melissa, this IS a chastity device, and your mouth is filled with a cock shaped gag." Lisa said very matter-of-factly. "But this is no ordinary chastity device. First of all, it isn't a cheap plastic model that can be slipped off. This one is heavy duty stainless steel, with a high grade, integral lock. It also has a small modification. Anytime we choose, we can deliver an electric shock to your little penis. So punishment will be swift, and can be very, very painful." She then proceeded to put the cage part over my cock, and with much pushing and painful pulling, locked a tight ring behind my balls, then locked the two together. A small little cylinder, just bigger than a lipstick tube, was on the side of the ring behind my balls. "Now, Melissa," she said sternly, "do I have your attention?" When I nodded yes, she went on, "I have a controller here with 6 levels of shock. I am now going to deliver a very short shock from setting number 1. I want you to remember this, and to keep in mind that the more you act up, or refuse to do what you're told, or even perform a task poorly, the shocks can go up until they're so strong you'll wish you were dead. Do you understand me, young lady?" I bobbed my head yes, just as she hit the button. I screamed into the gag, my back arching until I thought it would break, and it felt for all the world like my cock and balls had been plunged into boiling water! It only lasted a moment, but the pain continued for at least a minute or two. My god, if that was only a 1, any higher setting would kill me! "Well, Missy, do we understand each other, and I mean completely understand?" While the question was asked in a quiet tone of voice, there was no misinterpreting the menace that was just under the surface. I nodded weakly. "Well, let me just let you in on a little secret. If you try to rip the battery pack off, the capacitor will discharge, completely. That would mean a 4 second burst at level 6, which would cause severe burns, along with terrible pain. If you damaged yourself enough, the only remaining option might be castration, or complete sex re-assignment surgery." This last was delivered as she walked out the door, leaving me gagged, bound, and scared to death. Okay, let's be fair. I was very new to all of this, and had no way of knowing that all she had done was adapt a device that gave a mild shock to a dog to stop it from barking. There were no "pain levels," no anti-tamper-death-dealing device, and it would never be strong enough to cause damage. But, dammit, it hurt like hell! I found all of this out much, much later. I stayed bound to the bed for what seemed like a long time, and then Lisa returned. I was unstrapped, and told to stand up while I was dressed. I was handed a pair of white satin panties trimmed in pink lace, and told to pull them on. Next was a pair of white nylon ankle socks with pink chiffon clouds at the top of each. White babydoll heels with a little strap across the instep went on over the socks, and then I was told to hold my arms up, and a sort of combination of camisole and chiffon petticoats was pulled down over me. Once that was settled into place, a white satin dress with cap sleeves, lashings of lace, and wide pink sash was lowered over the petticoats, and zipped up. My hair was brushed and she added little pink ribbons, sprayed on a bit of perfume, and then I was told to put my hands behind my back. Once again, the leather cuffs were returned to my wrists, and my wrists were clipped together behind my back. This was the first time since I had been in this bizarre place that I had a complete set of clothes on. Granted, they were clothes that some Victorian mother would have thought perfect for her daughter to wear while having tea with royalty. This dress would have been even more perfect if the daughter was about 5. Honestly, the dress was so short that a slight bend of the body would put those sissy panties on display, and every time I moved, I could hear the swish of the petticoats. But, with thoughts of that horrible shock device foremost in my mind, I decided to keep quiet. Well, that, and the fact that I was still gagged... I was told to walk to the other side of the room, and then to kneel on the pillow that was on the floor, just in front of a full length mirror. After I did, my ankles were bound together, and a short rope ran between my wrists and ankles. I wasn't going anywhere! The funny thing was, I almost ignored what was going on behind me as I looked at myself in the full length mirror. Now, I had never cross dressed in my life. I never even tried on any of my mother's things. The idea just never crossed my mind. Suddenly, I was captivated by the feminine creature in the mirror. The dress was so innocent, but contrasted sharply with the fact that I was gagged with a huge penis gag, and bound into place. I took in every detail of the dress I was wearing. From the cap sleeves with little pink satin bows, and pink ruffled cuffs to the lace trimmed collar, then down to the wide shiny pink satin sash, and down to the gathered ruffles around the hem of the short skirt. I was in love with the dress, and the feel of the satin and lace on my body. I wondered why I had never worn such beautiful things before, when it was obvious I loved them! (In the back of my mind, though, I remembered the nightly music with the almost audible voice, and the idea of subliminal suggestion was gently nudging my consciousness.) Like a sudden thunderstorm, reality hit me, and hit me hard! I'm NOT Melissa, I raged in my mind! I'm Ian James Sutton! I am not some crossdressing faggot sissy! I will NOT do this...and then, I looked into the mirror again, and realized that the shit they had done to me wasn't something that I could just shower off. They had messed with my voice, my face, given me tits, and shit, even had me talking like a three year old girl! If I wanted out, and I did, I would have to take my time, and choose the right moment. Even then, I had no idea what would happen if I escaped. No clothes, no money, no home, no job...Shit! Lisa then removed my gag, after warning me that she still held the controller for my shock device. Of course I said nothing! She took something out of her bag, and quickly stuck it to the mirror on what must have been a suction base. It was a large, very realistic, pink cock. "Now Melissa, we will begin the rest of your education. This dildo is about 7 inches long, so it's about average in size for a decently hung man. In other words, a few inches longer than your sub- standard dick, which by the way, you will now, and forever more refer to as your "Clitty." You will now spend one hour practicing on this dildo, learning to take the whole thing into your mouth. I was about to tell this harpy from Hell that there was no way I would do it, when I remembered the pain of that "low level" shock. I resolved to play the game and wait for my chance. As I knelt there, while Lisa explained my task, my mind did another 180 degree shift. I wasn't looking at who I used to be, I was looking at Melissa who loved her satin and lace, and wanted more and more of it. I was now terribly confused, but at least had the presence of mind to think about the shock device, and begin licking and kissing the dildo in front of me, as per my instructions. While I was doing this, I suddenly had the depressing thought that my very first sexual experience might not be with a girl, but a man! After the prescribed hour, my jaw was aching, my mouth was dry, and my throat hurt from having Lisa, who now told me to call her either Miss Lisa, or Miss, jam my head forward, again and again, forcing the whole phallus into my mouth and down my throat. Even when I started to gag, and drool fell from my lips like rain, the only thing she did was put a bib on me, and a towel on the floor! I was fed my lunch, and that afternoon was spent in Yoga and Pilates. Again, when I was allowed to go to bed, diapered, and dressed in some pretty nightie, my body, exhausted by the day, fell asleep instantly. But, not quite fast enough to miss a few moments of the quiet music, and the now familiar soft voices. The next two days were repeats of the first. My cock sucking lessons were extended by 10 minutes each day, and augmented by videos of women licking, kissing, sucking, and generally making love to cocks with their lips and tongues. I was told to observe, and repeat on the rubber phallus, which I also noted was a tiny bit longer and thicker. Great, just what I needed! The next day was a wee bit different. I was startled out of bed by that horrible alarm, that sounded like a chainsaw trying to mate with an oversized electric razor, all while riding in a dump truck on a rough road. As soon as I had eaten a bite of breakfast, I was told that there would be a small change in routine today. I noticed that an odd piece of furniture had been installed during the night. It looked a bit like a pommel horse from gym class, except it was much lower, and not as long. I had my diaper removed, and then I was cleaned up, but no shower. I was handed a garter belt, and a pair of white stockings, along with a pair of white high heeled pumps. After I got them on, I was led to this thing, wearing nothing but my lilac nightie, and stockings, garter, and heels. The two nurses told me to stand against the horse, and they then grabbed my arms and cuffed my wrists behind me. Both of my ankles were secured to something on the bottom of the horse, causing me to stand with my legs spread wide. Finally, I was pushed down, and a collar was placed around my neck, and secured to the other side of the horse. I was now standing spread legged, and bent over, with my ass above my head. There was nothing, no, nothing good that could ever come of this! I started to fuss and to yell, "Hey, knock this shit off! I'm not some girl, and I'm sure as hell no sissy! Let me up, and let me the hell out of this fucking madhouse!" For the first time, I felt almost like my old self, and not this submissive thing. The scary thing was though, even though I felt like Ian, I still sounded like a little girl! When I screamed, it sounded like, "Hey, I'm no thithy wet me out of this pwace," in a high pitched little girly voice! Not the most convincing and commanding voice! They let me rant and rave for a few minutes, and then Lisa came through the door, with an older, but very sexy woman. Lisa was wearing a very short satin French maid dress which showed off her nylon encased legs, and yes, even the ruffled panties under the short skirt and crinolines. When I finally drug my eyes away from this ravishing sight, I took a close look at the older woman, and suddenly recognized her as the woman that had "hired" me. She was dressed in a white frilly blouse, sheer enough to clearly see the lacy white bra that was barely holding her breasts in place, and her hard nipples poking thought, along with a long black skirt and heels. She was absolutely beautiful, and somehow, I sensed that she was the one in charge. As soon as I had gotten an eye full, I went back to my yelling, and the older woman merely made a sweeping motion towards me and with a frisson of real fear, I saw what was in her hand. "Now, Melissa," she began sternly, "My name is Mistress Karen, but you will ONLY address me as Mistress, or Ma'am. I am here to inform you that you have been sold. We'll get into the details of that a bit later. Today's training is about to begin, and it centers on the fact that from now on, you are a sissy fucktoy. Your hands, your mouth, and now your ass are to be trained to give a man or woman pleasure. And possibly for the last time in your sissy life, you now have a choice. You may shut your mewling trap and submit to the training, or we will shock the shit out of that pathetic excuse of a penis, gag you, and then the training will go ahead anyway. It's your choice." With that, she held the remote closer to my face, and held her finger over the button. "Remember the little test shock? Good! That was a love tap compared to settings 2-6. I now have it set to number 3. Do I need to push the button?" I immediately shut my mouth, remembering the terrible pain of the first shock, and answered, "No, Ma'am, I'll twy to be good." What else could I say? One of the nurses, now quietly giggling, walked around behind me, but as she did so, I could see her pull on a latex glove like a doctor. The other nurse picked something up, and looked expectantly at the older woman, who quietly spat out, "Well, don't just stand there you fool, put it on my bitch!" I was startled to see the nurse kneeling in front of not me, but Miss Lisa, and after pulling something out of a bag, begin to do something between her legs. As she was between me and Miss Lisa, I really couldn't see, as hard as I tried. My attention was diverted, though, by Mistress Karen. "Now, Melissa, you may have noticed that things are a little different for you today. Do you find yourself conflicted about what's going on? Nod for yes, do not speak." I nodded slowly. "You see, you pathetic excuse for a man, the drugs that have been in your system for over a month are almost totally gone, and for the first time, you are, more or less, in charge of yourself. Do you like your new clothes?" I nodded again. "Do you like what we've done to your body?" Here, I just sort of hung my head, not sure if the truth would get me punished. "Well, we'll just have to live with that, won't we?" She was silent for a moment, and then went on, "I suppose we might as well tell you what the future holds for you. In two months, you will be shipped off to your new owners. You were purchased by a man who runs a very special caf? and hotel in Tokyo. For the next two months, you will undergo intense instruction in the Japanese language, and will spend 6 hours a day in Pilates class for strength, and ballet and Yoga classes so you will be limber enough to, shall we say, assume whatever position is required. All of the wait staff in the caf? are male, and are dressed like young girls. You will spend much of your day as one of these Lolita-styled sissy maids, wearing whatever sissy dress the owner wants you to wear, and serving in the caf?. Then, your evenings will be spent serving the customers who not only liked what they saw in the caf?, but can afford to pay the outrageous fees for your sexual services. You should know right now, that damn little is off limits. Scat, drugs, anything that permanently marks or damages the merchandise, by which I mean, you, are the only out-of-bounds items. If they want you to in painful bondage, you shall be. If they want you to be a baby, a French Maid, a bride, a schoolgirl, an American cheerleader, a whore, a urinal, or any other fetish they have in mind, you will oblige them, and they will use whatever part of your body they choose. You will have no options but to say yes." As she said those chilling words, the nurse stood up, and I could see there was a long dildo strapped over Miss Lisa's ruffled panties, sticking up under her crinolines. She walked over to me, and waved it in my face, telling me to "Open your mouth, and close your eyes, you're about to get a big surprise!" I had supposed that the phallus was going in my mouth, and prepared as best I could. I was shocked that instead of that thing ravaging my throat, a blindfold was slipped over my eyes, and a pair of large, soft headphones covered my ears. At first, all I could hear was soft music, some sort of New Age crap, and then I could hear a voice. This time, though, the voice got a bit louder, and I could clearly hear a soft feminine voice in my ears. "I love panties," was the first thing I could clearly make out. "I love to wear soft satin panties," followed by things like how I loved to be submissive, and soft, and pretty. The voice moved on to things like, "I love large cock in my mouth, it's so hot and yummy." THAT one caused me to stop for a moment and think, but not for too long There seemed to be a familiar cadence, one that I'd heard before, and soon, I was actually repeating the sentences along with the voice on the headphones. Over and over, I repeated the phrases, almost in a hypnotic state. I don't know how long this went on, but at some point, I was aware that someone was doing something to my bum. I really didn't know what it was, but it was cool, and soft. Suddenly, something was plunged into my ass hole, causing me to scream in pain, and try to break free of my bonds, to no avail. I thought I was being split apart, and that gallons of blood must be flowing down my legs!! As I opened my mouth to scream, something was shoved into it, and rammed all the way in. Somehow, I knew that this was a real, live, attached to a man, cock. I immediately tucked my teeth behind my lips as I had been taught, and allowed him to fuck my mouth, while someone, or something fucked my poor ass. I quickly realized that it was Miss Lisa, as I could feel the crinolines from her dress when she bottomed out the strap on phallus inside of me. The pain and humiliation were almost more than I could bear, but suddenly, even though I couldn't speak with a cock down my throat, I began to mentally chant along with the voices, and the pain seemed to diminish some. What's more, every time that strap-on cock rammed into my poor backside, I could feel a jolt of heat, or electricity running into my balls and locked up cock. Like a monstrous wave, it kept pounding in rhythm with the cock in my ass, each time getting stronger and stronger, when suddenly, as the man fucking my mouth pulled back and released a huge load of slimy cum into my mouth, the wave broke, and the most intense orgasm of my life shook me to the core! If I hadn't been strapped into place, my knees would have buckled, and I would have collapsed to the floor like a rag doll. Slowly, the dildo in my ass, and the softening cock in my mouth were withdrawn. Without any comment, the rubber penis gag was rammed back into my mouth, and buckled tight, and the volume in my headphones was reduced to almost nothing. Everyone left the room, I think, and I was left bound and gagged, to contemplate the future. I knew two thing immediately. I hated this! I was not brought into this world to suck cocks, to wear lingerie, dresses, and heels, and I was certainly not here for men to fuck! What right did those two bitches have in kidnapping me, surgically altering my body, and then raping me? I wanted out of here, and I wanted no part of any of this!! What else did I know? In the back of my mind, Iknew that I was addicted to soft, swishy, satin and lace lingerie. I craved to wear dresses, night gowns, panties, and slips. I suppose there was a third thing that I now knew. Even though I was loathe to admit it, I think I would do damn near anything for an orgasm like the one that I had just experienced! The two months passed slowly. I went to bed sore and tired from the exercises, and the increasingly larger plugs that filled my sore asshole every day. My minds was a whirl of Japanese phrases that had to be spoken like a little girl, lisping and breathy. I was sore from being paddled with leather paddles, wooden paddles, and bare hands. I had sucked off at least a dozen men or more. The last 5 I sucked off were done "voluntarily," where they sat there passively, while I used every trick I had been taught to bring them off within a certain amount of time, or face punishment. I even had to sign documents to change my name to Melissa Sweetly, and then have a passport issued in that name! That came about a week before my flight. There I was, dressed like a schoolgirl in a too- short tartan skirt of pink, purple and light blue, ruffled and lacy pink satin panties that seemed to be on constant display, white nylon knee socks, black patent Mary Jane shoes, and an almost sheer white blouse that clearly showed my pink lacy bra off to the world! Men were staring at me in the airport, not knowing that there was a cock under my panties, locked in place with a pink plastic cage, so the metal detector wouldn't go off. My dresses of pink, mint, lilac, turquoise, lemon yellow, light blue, white and my black satin maid dress, along with all my lingerie and shoes had been shipped out that day, and would catch up to me in about a week. Whoopee! All I had with me was a couple of trashy romance novels, and two clean pair of panties, and two clean bras. And here I was, sitting between two men who thought I was a sexual dream come true. My nightmare was about to truly begin.