Advanced Residential Marriage Guidance free porn video

Advanced Residential Marriage Guidance xxx So, another sequel. Thought the good Dr Swift needed another outing. Please write a review and let me know if you enjoyed this (or any of my other stories) would love to know what works and what doesn't. Pop on a pair of panties and have fun - S.S. xxx The sound of the car drawing away on the road outside faded in Dr Swift's ears as she sat at her desk. She picked up a manilla folder with a label saying simply "Liam" on the front and placed it in front of her. Taking up a pen she drew a line through the name and wrote "Lilly" above it. At 17, Liam had been a little younger than most of her patients but his rich, elderly Aunt had insisted that he was becoming steadily more rebellious and delinquent and needed her treatment. Lilly would now be an obedient maid and an attentive nurse to her Aunt and, when her Aunt finally passed away, she would be a beautiful, rich heiress who would not be short of suitors. Dr Swift put the folder aside and picked up another, this one labelled "Peter." Opening the file, some pictures on the top showed a delicately handsome blonde man in his mid-twenties. One showed him in running gear with the slim, slight body of a long distance runner. Reading the background notes that her clinic had researched, it seemed that Peter was highly intelligent, already a successful tech entrepreneur by his late teens. However, while superficially charming, he was incredibly self-centred, occasionally cruel and with some questionable sexual tastes that spoke of someone that enjoyed power over others. As a result he had struggled to maintain a lasting relationship with a woman and, it seemed, he'd taken practical steps to change that by travelling to Vietnam and "procuring" his wife, Kimberley. Kimberley was an absolutely stunning, petite Thai woman with long, black glossy hair and flawless dark tan skin and brown eyes. There was very little background on her, although what there was spoke of growing up poor in Bangkok and likely being physically and sexually abused and controlled by the men around her. It was finally at her insistence and outright pleading that Peter had agreed to come to see Dr Swift after one particularly abusive sex session had left her in a near catatonic state. Presently the doorbell rang and Dr Swift rose to answer it. Opening the door she found Peter standing there with Kimberley a respectful couple of steps behind. Peter was a relatively small man dressed simply in a white shirt and blue trousers, with the slim body of a long distance runner, straight, dark-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. With natural arrogance, he cursorily greeted Dr Swift and walked past her into the house. Kimberley was every bit as beautiful as her pictures suggested. She was wearing a pink floral-patterned cotton dress, with a skirt that came to just above her knees, and pink kitten heels. She raised her head and gave Dr Swift a shy, hopeful smile. "Please come in, Kimberley, it's lovely to meet you," Angie told her reassuringly. "Please meet you too, Doctor Swift," Kimberley replied in a soft, sing- song voice before following the taller woman into the hallway. Once in her consulting room, Angie asked the pair to sit and fetched them both a glass of water before speaking, "Now, I know it must have been difficult to come here and discuss problems with your relationship, but asking for help is an important first step to resolution. Please, tell me in your own words, what seems to be the problems you're having?" Peter immediately started talking, not giving Kimberley any opportunity to respond and, clearly, not even thinking that was necessary. "Oh, it's nothing really. I mean Kimberley is a great wife, she keeps the house very well and cooks for me. It's just sometimes I think she misinterprets things I do. I do occasionally spank her when she does something wrong, but nothing too hard. It's really for her own good and she knows I do it out of love, I'm sure. "And when it comes to sex, Kimberley is perfectly adequate, it's just my tastes sometimes run to....shall we say, a little more assertive actions? I really don't think she minds too much, I mean who doesn't like a little light bondage? Millions of women loved "Fifty Shades of Grey" so I know that you're all secretly looking for a strong confident man. I'm sure if Kimberley just relaxed and enjoyed it, things would be better. She should know that I love her and look after her and she needs to return all that by catering to my needs." Dr Swift raised a hand to stop Peter's flow. "And Kimberley? What's your view of the problems you've been having?" she asked. Kimberley seemed hesitant to speak and Peter interrupted, "You may answer the doctor, my dear." Flushing slightly, Kimberley continued to look at the floor but spoke up in a soft, hesitant voice, "I try be good wife for Peter. I cook. I clean. I look after house. It just the things he make me do in bed I no like, they difficult for me. I no like spanking and being tied up. It hurt. I don't think I deserve." Peter rolled his eyes, "Really Kimmie. All the things I do for you, you make me sound like a monster." "I sorry, husband. I try better," Kimberley stammered, clearly worried that there might be some repercussions for her frank speech. Dr Swift spoke up to relieve the growing tension in the room, "I see. I think I get the picture. These are not uncommon problems and I know I can help. Over the next week while you stay, we'll work on communication and understanding and I'm sure we'll see a big improvement." Peter nodded, smiling thinking that she meant for Kimberley to stay and starting to think about what he could get up to with a week free of her. Angie stood and went behind her desk and pulled out a laptop and two bottles of tablets. Returning to the couple she placed the laptop and pills in Kimberley's hands. "Now, my dear. You take these home with you. The laptop has some training materials in the form of videos, documents and recordings and I want you to study these. There are also some relaxation recordings that you should listen to before going to sleep. The pills will help lift your mood, deal with your anxiety and confidence issues," she explained, "Now let me show you out to your car." It was at this moment that Peter realised that Kimberley was leaving and that meant he must be staying. "Now wait a minute. I thought you meant for Kimberley to stay. Not me. I couldn't possibly be away from my business for a whole week," he protested. Angie sat and crossed her legs, giving Peter a tantalising glimpse of her stockings and a flash of her white lace panties. "Peter. I know you want to improve your marriage and that really means I need you to stay here with me. I just know you'll really enjoy the treatment," she said suggestively. Peter took the bait. Perhaps a week in the company of the extremely attractive young doctor wouldn't be too bad, work would keep he thought. "Ok," he agreed. "I'm sure the business can manage without me for a week. Of course I want to improve my marriage so I'll work hard at the treatment," he replied equally suggestively. Angie stood again and beckoned for Kimberley to follow her out. She led her out to the front door and spoke out of Peter's earshot. "Don't worry, Kimberley. I've had tougher patients than Peter and I know I can bring about a total change in him. Please use the laptop and the tablets. I'll email you regular updates on his treatment and let you know when you can return and collect....er...him," she told her gently, both women knowing that that was going to be a lot more than a week away. Kimberley smiled again, shyly, at Angie. "Thank you doctor. I look forward to that. I see you soon," she said before walking back to the car and getting in. Peter had had Kimberley taught to drive mainly so that she could drive him around when he wanted to drink, she being forbidden alcohol anyway, so she had no problem getting home. Angie returned to her office and walked straight into the arms of the waiting Peter. "So. How about we get ourselves comfortable and get started with this treatment?" he said lasciviously, putting his arms around Angie's waste and taking two handfuls of her pert ass-cheeks. The very thought made Angie's flesh creep and she shuddered, something Peter interpreted as a shiver of desire and his smile widened. While this was happening, Angie had reached down into her suit jacket pocket, finding a hard plastic box with two metal probes. Through the thin jacket lining and Peter's shirt, she pressed the probes against his midriff and pressed the single button on the top. Instantly, Peter stiffened for a brief moment before collapsing on the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut. "Yes. Let's get started with this treatment," Angie said mockingly to the unconscious body on the floor, resisting the urge to kick him hard. She walked out the office and along the hallway to the cellar door. Opening it revealed a flight of stairs down to a dark corridor with a little light spilling from a slightly ajar door at the end. "Come," Angie commanded and, after a moment, the door opened and two hulking figures lumbered through and began climbing the stairs. On exiting the cellar door into the hallway, the figures revealed themselves to be two men, dressed from head to foot in black leather - boots, trousers, jackets, gloves. They both wore leather hoods with piercing eyes showing through the eyeholes and zips across the mouths. The first had a white number "7" stitched on the forehead, the second a number "14." Angie led them back to the room and told them, "Pick him up. Carry him up and put him on the bed in the guest bedroom." The two large men lifted Peter by his armpits and ankles and carried him like a rag-doll. Angie followed them up to a spartan bedroom with only a bed and a dressing table and a door leading to a walk-in wardrobe. Peter was tossed on the bed and Angie commanded, "Back to your corners." The two leather-clad men slunk away without question. Angie fastened Peter's wrist and ankles with leather cuffs that were attached to chains leading from the corner of the bed. She walked back to her office and typed some commands into her laptop before opening a drawer and taking out a small zipped case. She headed back to the bedroom but before entering she took a pair of earplugs from a case in her pocket and inserted them - it wouldn't do for her to brainwash herself with the subliminal messages that were now playing in the bedroom. Unzipping the case, she withdrew three small syringes and stabbed them, one after the other, into Peter's arm. The syringes contained initial, high-level doses of a number of chemicals that she would continue to dose Peter with during his treatment, although they would mainly be put in his food and drink. Hormones would sculpt his body, making his ass curvier and his breasts grow while stripping away his muscles. Other chemicals would make his hair grow faster and finer, while removing his facial and body hair. Relaxants would remove his strength and various psycho-active chemicals, of the doctor's design, would remove much of his will power and make him suggestible to commands and the subliminal messages that he would hear constantly as he slept. Satisfied, Angie put away the syringes and left the room. Peter's treatment would begin in the morning. Around a week later, Peter was knelt, naked in front of Dr Swift. He was on the verge of tears, partly from pain from the electric shocks that came from the collar he was wearing and partly from shame from the confessions that Dr Swift had extracted from him using those shocks. Peter hated being naked and vulnerable like this but Dr Swift had convinced him it was beneficial for him to expose his body as well as his soul. "You know," Dr Swift told him softly, leaning down from her chair to speak to him, "I think it's becoming clear to me that you have no empathy for women. That's a big part of your problem and its really stopping you from getting better. You do want to get better, don't you?" Peter nodded vigorously. "Getting better" had become his main goal, the most important thing in his life at that moment, as he replied, "Yes Dr Swift. I so want to get better. I'll do anything to get better." "Good. I think what we need to do is to get you more in touch with you feminine side. Draw that out, help improve your understanding of women. I'm sure that will help your treatment, get you better, quicker," Angie replied before getting up and walking behind her desk and opening a drawer. She returned and sat, handing a small, delicate bundle of white fabric that she had taken from the drawer to Peter. "I think wearing those would help. Wearing something feminine will help get you in the right frame of mind to accept your treatment," she told him. Peter unfolded the thin cotton fabric and realised he was holding a pair of women's panties, trimmed around the leg holes and waist with a frill and with a tiny pink bow at the front of the waistband. He held them like they were a live grenade, somehow knowing that putting them on would be crossing a line, a line that it would hard to step back over. "Are..are your sure that's necessary, Dr Swift?" he stammered nervously. "I think I can develop empathy without wearing these, really I can." Angie smiled and replied, "No. I really think you should put them on. They really will help, I've done this with other patients and achieved excellent results." Peter still hesitated and Angie reached for the control box for the collar. That made Peter jump with fear and he began, slowly and reluctantly, to step into the panties. Pulling them fully on he knelt back down, surprised at just how much wearing the delicate, feminine garment changed how he felt. He almost felt weaker and more vulnerable wearing the panties than he did when naked. To his shame and embarrassment, Peter's cock sprang erect, tenting out the front of the panties in a way he couldn't hide. "Well now," Angie teased, "Looks like you're quite enjoying getting in touch with your feminine side. Are you sure you haven't worn panties before?" "N...no, I haven't," Peter stammered, wishing the ground would swallow him up. "I think we'll keep you in them from now on, then," Angie told him. "Since you appear to like them and since they'll help your treatment. You can get dressed now." She leant forward and removed the collar and Peter stood and picked up his trousers, eager to hide both his erection and the female underwear. Pulling his trousers up over the panties and fastening the button and closing the zip somehow made them feel more permanent - trousers may have covered them outwardly but he could not escape the sensation the panties gave him, constantly aware of the dainty, feminine garment he was wearing. Before he could put on the rest of his clothes, Angie spoke, "You know, there's something else we could do to pull out your feminine side. I think we should give you a new name." "A new name?" Peter asked confused. "Yes. A new name. It just doesn't feel right to call you Peter anymore, when I know you've got girl's panties on. It'll help you to think of yourself as more feminine if we give you a girl's name to match. And that will definitely help you get better," Angie explained. "Don't you think that's going a bit far?" Peter asked fearfully, worried about what this new change would mean. "No. I don't. Anyway, who's the doctor here?" Angie replied curtly. "Now, how about we change Peter to Petunia?" "Petunia? No. Please, I'd like to just stay Peter," he begged, scared of having another part of his identity removed in such an emasculating manner. "Well that's not really an option if you want to get better. If you don't like 'Petunia,' we'll just have to call you 'Poppy,'" Angie responded, making it pretty clear that there was no room for further debate or discussion. "Poppy?" Peter questioned. "Yes. 'Poppy.' Say it. Say, 'My name is Poppy,'" Angie ordered. Peter wanted so hard to resist but found himself answering, "My name is Poppy." "Say, 'My name is Poppy. I'm going to be a good girl because I want to get better,'" Angie commanded. Peter burst into tears and took a minute of sobbing to answer, "My name is Poppy. I'm going to be a good girl because I want to get better." Angie knew she'd achieved a significant victory, taking Peter farther and a little faster than she'd planned. "Good girl. You may go and relax for a couple of hours now, Poppy. Go think some girlie thoughts," Angie said, dismissing the tearful Peter with a wave of her hand. Peter ran from the room, desperate to escape the shame and humiliation at Angie's hands. He couldn't, however, escape the ever-present sensation of the flimsy cotton panties he was wearing and the feeling that, somehow, he had been totally defeated. A frog that is dropped into hot water will jump to escape. A frog that is put in cold water and has the heat raised does not notice the slowly rising temperature until it is too late. In a similar manner, Angie slowly and steadily increased Peter's femininity over the following weeks. His t-shirt was changed for a camisole, then a bralette and then to a bra. His trousers were changed for long baggy shorts, then culottes and finally a skirt. His normal ankle socks became knee length, then over- the-knee woolly socks, then ribbed stockings and finally sheer pantyhose. Angie even got him wearing lipstick in the guise of a chap stick to help dry lips. Each stage could not be easily resisted because he'd accepted the previous stage. Any resistance was quickly dismissed by Angie's explanation of how this would help him learn to respect women and was helping his treatment. After a few weeks, Angie was sitting at her desk when Poppy entered to take away the tray of tea she'd finished. Poppy was wearing a white silk blouse, a short black pleated skirt, black opaque pantyhose and black pumps with a kitten heel. She was also wearing a small, white satin apron trimmed with lace and tied around her middle with a large bow at the back. Angie knew, because she'd checked earlier, that Poppy was wearing a delicate black lace bra and panty set underneath too. Poppy cleared away the tea tray without a word but before she could turn to leave, Angie smiled at her. Poppy returned the smile shyly before looking submissively down. "Are you happy, Poppy?" Angie asked. She hadn't called him Peter for weeks and he was now completely used to answering to "Poppy." She thought for a second before answering, "Yes, Dr Swift. Is there a reason I shouldn't be?" "No, Poppy, it's good that you're happy. It shows the treatment you're receiving is working," Angie replied, "and you don't mind the clothes you're wearing?" "No Dr Swift. They make me feel calm and relaxed. I like them and they're helping to make me better," Poppy returned. If pressed, Poppy would be unable to explain what was wrong with her that she needed to get better from, she just knew that she had to try hard and obey Dr Swift to get better and it was important that she did. "Good girl. Off you pop, there's laundry needing done," Angie ordered. She smiled at the retreating back of Poppy. It was time to ramp up the treatment. From tomorrow, Poppy would be dressing in much more frilly, sissy maid's uniforms. She'd learn to style her hair and do her makeup and, Angie was sure, in another couple of weeks she'd be looking, behaving and thinking like a completely submissive female slave. Those couple of weeks passed quickly and, just as Angie had expected, Poppy submitted to total feminisation. Angie was in her office when Poppy tottered in, holding a feather duster and beginning to dust the bookshelves while humming a happy tune. Poppy was wearing a scarlet satin sissy maid uniform, trimmed with black lace and with its short skirt flared out by black net petticoats. Her slim legs were encased in sheer black stockings with a straight seam down the back and she had on black, open-toed, platform shoes with a six inch heel. Her finger and toe nails were painted red and her lips were bright red with shiny lip gloss. Dark eye-liner and mascara with pink eyeshadow drew out her pretty blue eyes and her blonde hair reached her shoulders and was styled into a long bob with the ends neatly curled under. Outwardly, Poppy now looked completely female and adopted many feminine mannerisms as well as becoming completely obedient and submissive to Dr Swift. However, Angie was not yet completely sure that her will was broken and that she wouldn't revert to Peter's old ways on release. She decided to carry out a test. "Poppy, angel," she asked and Poppy immediately stopped her dusting and turned to her attentively. "I'm going out for a couple of hours. Once you've finished your dusting you may make a start on preparing dinner." Poppy stood, stunned, watching wide-eyed and open-mouthed as Angie picked up her keys and put on a jacket and headed out the front door, locking it behind her. Poppy had not shown any defiance or rebellion for weeks now and barely ever thought of resisting Dr Swift. She did sometimes daydream about one of her friends coming and rescuing her, or being pronounced cured by Dr Swift and Kimberley coming to collect her, but she had never really thought about escaping. She stood there for several minutes after Dr Swift had left, in complete turmoil. A conflict was growing inside her. Poppy wanted nothing more than to carry on with her chores until Dr Swift returned and she could serve her again. However, there was still enough of Peter's personality that fought to take over and make an escape, knowing there might not be a better chance again. Eventually "Peter" won out and he found himself heading for the cellar door. He knew the front and back doors and the windows were locked but was pleased to find the cellar door unlocked. Before entering, he realised he wouldn't get far dressed as a French maid and wearing high heels. He headed back to his bedroom and quickly took off the shoes, stockings and maid's uniform. Catching sight of himself in the mirror in the red lacy bra and panties he still had on, he felt a brief flush of shame. He considered stopping to take them off and to remove his makeup but decided there wasn't time and settled for tying his hair back in a ponytail with a pink scrunchie. There were few clothes in the wardrobe that weren't outrageously frilly and feminine but Peter found a pink tracksuit that Dr Swift sometimes made him wear to do the exercise classes that kept his body slim and fit. The tracksuit had a thin red stripe down the legs and arms and the hooded top zipped up the front. He quickly put it on and added a pair of pink training shoes before returning to the cellar. Opening the door, he could see steps leading down to a dark corridor with a slightly open door at the far end spilling a weak, grey daylight around its edges. Peter decided there must at least be a window down there, if not another door, and it was his best chance for escape. He headed down the stairs and reached the door and pushed it open before walking through. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the gloom but he could see a narrow high window, its dirty glass providing the light, and a door at the far side of the dark room. As he took a step towards the door, he became aware of movement in the corner of his eye and he froze. In an instant, a large black figure blocked his path and he began to back away, fearfully. He had only taken a couple of backwards steps when he backed up against something immobile. Before he could react, two strong hands grasped his wrists, holding him immobile. The shadowy figure in front of him continued forward and he realised it was a man, dressed fully in black leather, including a full hood with a number "7" on the forehead. The figure stopped immediately in front of him, staring at him from the eyeholes of the hood with blank, evil eyes. It let out a low, menacing chuckle as it raised a hand and stroked his cheek. Peter realised it must think he was a woman and his fear grew. Something hard pushed against his stomach, and Peter gasped in fright as he realised that it was this thing's erection pressing against him. Before he could shout or scream, he found himself propelled by the wrists and pushed face first against the wall. He began to sob as a pair of strong hands began to caress and knead his soft, feminine buttocks. "Please....please...no...I'm...not. I'm a....a..man, please stop," he whimpered and begged before the hands made a sharp tug and pulled the tracksuit bottoms quickly down to his knees. The thin lace of his panties was all that protected him now and he squealed as he felt the stiff rod of an erect cock pressing that lace between the cheeks of his butt. The squeal turned to a scream as the waistband of his panties began to be slowly pulled down, removing even that protection, and he knew that he was about to be raped. Just as he had given up hope, the inside cellar door opened letting in more light from the hallway. Dr Swift's strong voice called out, "Stop! Now! Get back to your corners. Immediately!" Peter's wrists were released and the two large figures shuffled off reluctantly. He pulled up the tracksuit bottoms and ran for the door. Passing Dr Swift, he sprinted up the stairs to the sitting room where he collapsed face down on a sofa, sobbing and trembling with fright. Presently, he heard the click of the cellar door shutting and locking and Angie joined him on the sofa. She gently gathered him in her arms and held him close to her chest, gently stroking his hair as his sobs subsided. "Oh, Dr Swift....Dr Swift....I was so scared. So scared. You....you saved me. Thank you. Thank you so much." Peter snivelled into her chest, his tears and mascara staining her blouse. "Hush, angel. It's OK now, I've got you," Angie replied comfortingly. "You're safe now, little girl." Eventually Peter calmed and was able to sit up and ask, "What....what were those things?" Angie took a moment before replying. "I'm so sorry, Poppy. I thought I'd locked the cellar door. I should really have warned you that there was danger in the cellar and for you to stay clear," she said with some contrition. "But..but what were they?" Peter asked again, a tremor of fear still in his voice. Dr Swift looked a little hesitant and guilty before replying. "I'm afraid they're two of my patients, Poppy. Two of my earliest patients, before I'd perfected my treatments. They both resisted getting better, becoming cured. I upped the dose of their medicine but they continued to resist and I kept going, thinking I could still cure them. Eventually they just sort of burned out. They're now totally broken, almost lobotomised, unable really to think or do anything for themselves, little more than animals," she confessed. "That...that's terrible," Peter replied, horrified at what he'd just heard. "Yes. Yes it is. I keep them because I have a duty to look after them and I hope, maybe one day, to find a way to reverse my mistake and rehabilitate them. Don't feel too bad though, Poppy. The one you saw, Number 7, was a serial rapist of young women and the one that held you, Number 14, was a vicious paedophile," she explained. "They're also a warning though. A warning of what can happen to people that resist my treatment, if they don't genuinely want to get better," Angie continued. The terrified "Peter" retreated to lick his wounds and the personality of Poppy returned stronger. "But I do. I do so want to get better, Dr Swift. I'll do whatever you want, whatever it takes. I'm going to be a good girl from now on," she promised in a soft voice. Angie put her arms around her and pulled her close. "I know you will, cupcake, I know you will," she cooed, smiling knowingly over the trembling girl's shoulder. Of course, this whole thing had been a set up. Most of Angie's patients made the escape attempt through the cellar and had to be "rescued." The resulting fright, and the demonstration that something much worse could happen to them if they didn't submit to their treatment, was just another stage in breaking them of their remaining masculinity. A significant minority of her patients, though, were unable to even attempt an escape with a clear opportunity, so far along the road to becoming submissive servant girls they had travelled. Angie had fully expected Poppy to be one of that minority and she found it quite pleasing to be proved wrong - it kept life interesting after all. A week after the cellar incident, dressed in her best red maid's uniform, Poppy entered Dr Swift's bedroom carrying a tray with light breakfast. She placed it over Angie's lap and quietly took her position kneeling beside the bed, head bowed and hands in her lap. After several minutes, during which she enjoyed her breakfast, Angie finally spoke. "I have some good news for you, my pet," she said matter-of-factly as she glanced at the paper on the tray. Pausing to see if there was any reaction and smiling as Poppy remained obediently still, she continued, "Your wife, Kimberley, is coming to see you." This time there was a reaction, Poppy lifted her head, mouth open in surprise as her mind clearly raced to take in the news. Did this mean her ordeal here was nearly over? Would she be going home? The mostly hidden, remaining personality of Peter began to surface and assert itself. How could he let his wife see him in this state? "Was there something you wanted to say, Poppy?" Dr Swift enquired, knowing full well what was going on. It didn't seem to matter how much she conditioned her patients, she always faced some degree of rebellion at this stage. Fortunately she knew exactly how to deal with it. "If..if I may, Dr Swift..." Peter stammered, trying to maintain an air of calm, submission, "could...could I be permitted some normal clothes to greet her?" Dr Swift appeared to consider for a moment before answering sharply, "No. What's wrong with your uniform? You wear it so well and it will show Kimberley how far you've come." Panic starting to rise, Peter blurted, "Please Dr Swift, please. It would mean so much to me to meet her in normal clothes and demonstrate my new attitude. Please," he whined as a tear rolled down his cheek. "Really, Poppy, I don't know what you mean. Your uniforms have been "normal" attire for weeks now. I thought you'd got used to it?" Angie replied archly. "Please, Dr Swift, please I just don't want her to be surprised she might not understand and I want her to understand when I return to being a better husband for her," Peter whimpered, his words running on as panic consumed him. Angie relented. "Oh, OK then. Anything to stop this pathetic whining, you silly girl. How about I let you wear some gym clothes? A sweatshirt and pants and running shoes, you used to like to run as I recall," she suggested, considering that it was nearly impossible for Poppy to run in the six-inch spiked heels she now commonly wore. Clutching at rescue, Peter stammered thankfully, "Oh, yes, that would be fine. Thank you. Thank you Dr Swift." "Right, well if that's settled and will stop you whimpering, I'll put some clothes out for you on your bed before she arrives," Angie informed him, "Now, before that I want you to give me a foot massage and then I want my toe nails painted." "Yes, Dr Swift," Poppy replied, returning to her "normality" of obedience and attention to Angie's demands. A couple of hours later, Poppy returned to her room and sat at the dresser. She removed her large hoop earrings and brushed out her shoulder length hair (now dyed a light platinum blonde) and tied it back into a strait tail with the plainest hair bauble she had. She removed the red polish from her nails and trimmed them back as short as she thought she could get away with. Carefully she removed every scrap of her immaculate make up and regarded her reflection. It was the face of Peter, but somehow softer and more feminine than when he had first arrived. Peter stepped into the walk-in-wardrobe and removed the maid's uniform, neatly hanging it with the large collection of similar dresses in a range of colours before stepping out of the black patent stilettos he had on. As he did so, he heard the bedroom door open and realised that was Dr Swift arriving with some normal, male clothes - nothing in this wardrobe remotely matched that description. He removed the red lace bra, panties and garter belt, placing them in the laundry basket before peeling off the sheer stockings from his slim, smooth legs and adding them. Finally he carefully peeled off the extremely realistic breast forms and placed them in their holder on the wall. Momentarily he regarded his reflection in the mirror. He was Peter again but there were some subtle changes beyond the longer hair he now had. He was still slim but his waist was pinched in and his hips seemed to flare out and his ass was definitely rounder. His nipples were much larger, both in diameter and length and sat on two small mounds of loose flesh. He put that down to a slight allergic reaction to the material of the breast forms and felt sure he could regain his figure if he got back to his running once he was out of here. Walking back into the room, Dr Swift had left and the clothes he was to wear were neatly laid out on the bed. They were not exactly the clothes he had begged for though and his heart sank. As he regarded the clothing he picked up the pink spandex short-style panties and matching sports bralette and put them on - it no longer occurred to him that he could wear male under-clothes. However, he hesitated again as he looked at the rest of the outfit there on the bed. At that moment the doorbell rang and he know Kimberley had arrived. He panicked as he tried to decide what to do. He could refuse to get dressed, but that would likely result in Dr Swift punishing him severely in front of his wife. He could, of course, return to the wardrobe and put on one of the uniforms he was now accustomed to but that would defeat the whole purpose of his earlier pleading. No, there was nothing for it but to get dressed in the sportswear and hope that his wife didn't notice or he could think of some excuse for the way he was dressed. Hurriedly he dressed, finishing just in time as Dr Swift tinkled the hand bell to summon him. Ten minutes later, Peter walked into the sitting room carrying the tray with tea and biscuits, as Dr Swift's bell had signalled him to prepare. He could barely raise his eyes, but when he did so he almost dropped the tray as he stopped, his sight transfixed by Kimberley. Gone was the meek, feminine girl in a flowery dress. Her black hair was tied into a long plait, starting from high on her head. Her eyes were made up in a smoky style with thick black eyeliner and mascara and her lips were pillar-box red and shiny with lip gloss. She wore a white silk blouse but with a black leather corset fastened up the front with metal clasps. Her slim legs were encased in shiny black spandex leggings leading down to black leather knee-boots with a silver metal spiked heel. Peter shuffled over to place the tray on the coffee table in front of the sofa between the two women. He hoped against hope that Kimberley wouldn't take in his clothing but her steely gaze was fixed on him. The sweatshirt he'd been given was a pale pink with a picture of a cartoon female rabbit lifting weights and the words "Gym Bunny" in sparkling print on the front. The neck was wide and almost fell off his shoulder, exposing a pink strap of his bralette. The "jogging bottoms" he'd been given were, in fact, a pair of purple Lululemon leggings, hugging tight to his legs and ass. On his feet were a pair of pink and white lady Nike training shoes with white ankle socks with a delicate strip of pink lace folded down from the top. He looked most like a teenage girl going to a Zumba class, nothing at all like a man going for a serious workout. Placing the tray down, he straightened up and began to back out the room, desperate not to show his wife his curvy ass in the tight leggings. However, before he could leave, Kimberley stood and halted him with a hand. She looked him up and down with a slight frown on her face before asking, "Is that a bra you're wearing?" The question hung in the air before Peter was able to stammer, "No...no...it's..it's just a part of this stupid sweatshirt. I...I couldn't find any clean clothes this morning. Standing closer, Kimberley took the strap, pulled it and snapped it against his skin. "Feels like a bra strap to me. Tell me, why are you wearing a bra?" she demanded fixing his gaze with her steely stare. "He's probably wearing matching panties too," Dr Swift contributed from the sofa. After a moment of silence, during which Peter wished the ground would swallow him up, Kimberley smiled menacingly and asked. "Is that right? Are you wearing matching bra and panties like a girl?" Peter couldn't find his voice and blushed deeper. Dr Swift spoke again, "He's got used to it, I think. He normally wears a dress around the house too, isn't that right Poppy?" Peter wanted to cry as Kimberley laughed out loud. "Poppy? Is that your new name then, cupcake?" Peter started to beg, "Kimmie, please..." What happened next cut him off and left him, and Dr Swift, totally stunned. Kimberley raised her hand and slapped him hard across the cheek, spinning his head to the side. In a strong, domineering tone that Peter had never heard before she barked, "Don't you dare call me that! My name is Nhung-Suong. You will learn to say it properly. And while we're at it, you will learn my language too. That's what we'll be using round the house from now on - Vietnamese." Still in complete shock, Peter turned his head round and stuttered, "Y..yes...Nung-song." "Pathetic," Kimberley replied, giving him slightly softer but still painful slap on the other cheek. "Until you can manage properly, you will call me Mama-san," she ordered. "Now, get out and get changed into this dress that Dr Swift mentioned. I want to see you in it, Poppy," she commanded. Dr Swift stared in surprise and admiration. She would never let any man have control over her, but increasingly the thought of submitting to this beautiful new-found dominatrix that she had created was arousing her. Peter was simply relieved to be allowed to leave, so terrified was he of the control the two women had over him. "Yes, Mama-san," he mumbled turning on his heel and practically running from the room to a chorus of female laughter. Returning to his room, Peter quickly stripped and placed his "gym" clothes and underwear in the laundry basket. Changing underwear multiple times a day created more laundry that he had to deal with but he now knew better than to present himself to Dr Swift without a change in underwear. From the drawer, he pulled out a dark-red silk bra and pantie set and slipped them on. Taking a purple satin short dressing gown from a hook behind the door, he pulled it up his arms and fastened the belt round his middle. Sitting at the dresser he spent a moment contemplating what had just happened. How had his pretty, sweet submissive wife changed so much? What should he do? He decided that he would continue to obey Dr Swift and Kimberley for the moment, to avoid further punishment and humiliation. Once he got away from here and was safely home, he decided that he would be a changed man. He would treat Kimberley like a queen, give her anything she wanted. No more rough sex, sex parties or abuse, she would find him a loving, caring husband and they would develop a new relationship of love and mutual respect. He brushed out his hair and tied it in two short pig-tails with thin red ribbon in two neat bows. Starting on his make-up, he found the familiar ritual soothing, calming and, after a short while the familiar pretty face of Poppy re-emerged. A quick spray of floral perfume and Poppy returned to dressing. She pulled a pair of red fishnet stockings with a wide lace band at the top up her smooth legs. She selected a dark-red maid's uniform from the wardrobe - poppy red to match her name. Stepping into it, she pulled the string to fasten the zip at the rear and looked at herself in the mirror. Peter might be appalled by the thought of being dominated by two strong women but Poppy knew her place and would be a good girl for them. She stepped into a pair of red patent platform heels and bent to fasten the ankle strap. Smoothing her skirts back down neatly, she headed back down stairs. Poppy was prepared to be obedient but her mouth fell open in surprise as she re-entered the sitting room. Kimberley was sitting on the sofa with Dr Swift sitting across her lap with her head on Kimberley's shoulder tenderly kissing her neck. Kimberley had one arm round Angie's shoulder holding her close, the other hand was between Angie's thighs gently exploring and causing the doctor to emit short, soft moans. "Ah, there you are. Just like a girl to take an age getting ready," Kimberley said curtly as Poppy entered the room. Angie raised her head from Kimberley's neck and looked dreamily at the maid. "Remember your manners, Poppy. Where's your curtsey for your mistress?" Angie said gently. Poppy stepped forward and gave a dainty curtsey, head bowed and held the position for a considerable time. Eventually she straightened and looked at the women on the sofa. Kimberly now had her fingers in Dr Swift's mouth, using it to clean her juices from her fingers. Kimberley whispered into Angie's ear and Angie slowly uncoiled herself from Kimberley's lap. As she stood smoothing her skirt back down over her stockings, Kimberley gave her a sharp slap on the rump. Angie jumped and squealed in reaction, before tottering out the room giggling like a schoolgirl. Kimberley simply pointed at a spot in front of her feet and, without pausing for thought, Poppy knelt there with her head bowed. "Well, looks like your 'therapy' has worked a treat. I'm so looking forward to getting you home, Poppy. However, that won't be today. There's still a few things I would like you trained to do and Dr Swift has allowed me to stay for a couple of weeks to help with that," Kimberley told her softly, before lifting her chin with a finger. Before Poppy could answer, Kimberley reached into a bag beside her, took out a ball gag and pushed it into Poppy's mouth. Reaching behind her head, Kimberley fastened the straps rendering Poppy speechless. A red leather collar was quickly added and Poppy knelt motionless and compliant as Kimberley handcuffed her hands behind her back. Finally, Kimberley added a chain leash and commanded, "Stand up, girl, and follow me." Poppy got to her feet and followed Kimberley on her leash back to her bedroom. She was pushed into the chair in front of the dresser and, with the same efficiency as before, Kimberley used a red rope to tie her to the chair leaving her completely immobile from the neck down. Kimberley pulled a laptop from the bag, placed it on the dressing table, opened it and started it up. As she bent over, Poppy could only silently admire her wife's perfect round posterior in its tight leggings, remembering with a flush of shame the times that Peter would have slapped it hard when he found Kimberley in a similar position. Kimberley straightened and stood aside, allowing Poppy to see the screen. It showed, from a high angle, a web-cam view of Dr Swift's bedroom. As he watched, Dr Swift stripped out of her plain skirt and blouse and underwear, oblivious or uncaring that she was being watched. She took a pair of lacy, side-tying panties and fastened them on before slipping into a delicate, matching black and purple baby doll nightdress. After pulling on black sheer stockings, she slipped her feet into a pair of dark purple patent heels and climbed on to the bed. She draped her arms across the top of the headboard, her legs in front of her with the knees to one side and feet to the other and bowed her head coquettishly, clearly waiting for a lover to join her. The seductive sight left Poppy's cock straining hard against the silk prison of her panties. Kimberley smiled down at the helpless Poppy. "I'm so looking forward to fucking your therapist. Enjoy the show, princess," she teased before walking out the bedroom door. A few moments later she reappeared on the laptop screen. She knelt on the edge of the bed before slowly crawling up its length towards Angie, like a big cat stalking its prey. On Kimberley reaching the top of the bed, the two women kissed passionately before wrapping their arms round each other. For the next few hours, Poppy could only watch helplessly, her cock twitching and leaking in her panties, as her wife and therapist indulged in numerous lesbian sex acts - many of which Peter had enjoyed while watching porn clips but a few that were totally new to her. Sometime later, Kimberley returned to Poppy's bedroom dressed only in a red satin robe. Poppy could see the prone figure of Dr Swift on the laptop screen, lying on her bed in an exhausted, post-sex slumber. The smell of their exertions and of sex was strong on Kimberley, arousing Poppy again, as she stood close by her. "Did you enjoy the show, Poppy?" Kimberley asked, removing the ball-gag. "Yes....yes, Mama-san," Poppy replied, remembering how she was now to address her wife. Kimberley peeled down the front of Poppy's panties, revealing the small, throbbing erection within and the sight of extensive staining from the previous few hours. "Well, looks like you certainly did at that, you horny slut," Kimberley teased, "or maybe it's something more? Maybe you like this. You like being helpless. Controlled. Feminised." Poppy wanted to deny it and protest but she could only moan and squirm slightly within her bounds as Kimberley's hand began to massage her throbbing cockette. "Yes. I think that's it. You like being weak. You like wearing women's clothes and treated like a little slut, don't you?" Kimberley continued, her hand moving faster, squeezing harder. "Say it. Say it, slut. Admit you love it. Say 'I love being your slut Mama-san,'" Kimberley taunted, her ministrations reaching a crescendo. The remaining part of Peter wanted to scream a denial, beg for a return to normality, but Poppy's lust and conditioning was too strong. "I love it. I love being your slut Mama-san," she squealed as her orgasm overtook her, spurting a smallish quantity of cum over Kimberley's hand. Kimberley lifted her hand to Poppy's mouth. "Clean," she commanded, smiling in satisfaction as Poppy obediently snaked out her tongue and licked up every drop. Poppy was surprised to find that her first taste of cum wasn't as repulsive as she'd thought it would be and wondered briefly if this would become a regular task. Kimberley reached into a drawer in the dresser and took out a familiar pink object. She opened the chastity cage and gently placed it over Poppy's cocklette, fastening it round her shrivelled testicles and snapping the small padlock shut with a loud click. Just in Poppy's field of vision, she took the key and threaded it on to a bracelet, fastening that round her wrist. "Now. I know Dr Swift has used this as part of your therapy before, but this is different. Your cock belongs to me now. Me and me alone. I decide when it will be released as a reward for good behaviour or for any other purpose I want. Do you understand, trollop?" Kimberly explained. Poppy could only nod slowly, signalling her comprehension as she began the journey to realisation that their relationship had fundamentally and permanently changed. "Good girl," Kimberley whispered as she released Poppy's bonds, "now get yourself to bed, we'll be busy with your training early tomorrow." Kimberley turned and left the room, heading back to Dr Swift's bedroom as Poppy gently massaged her chaffed wrists and began to undress for bed. Some days later, Poppy had finished serving the two mistresses their dinner and was sent to her room to get changed, with orders to join them an hour later in their room. On her bed, Poppy found a pair of white satin side-tying panties, a matching white baby-doll nightie and a pair of white glossy hold-up stockings with a wide lace top. She felt very vulnerable and virginal, dressing in the white clothes, almost like a bride on her wedding night, before slipping on white high heels. She tottered down the hallway to Dr Swift's room, knocked nervously and quietly on the door and waited to be called in. Shortly a voice from behind the door called Poppy in and she entered the room. What she saw left her frozen in surprise, although a voice in her mind told her to turn and run. Kimberley was dressed in a gold-studded black leather bra-top, a matching belt round her exposed midriff. She was wearing black leather knee boots and black shiny leggings, with her hair tied up in a high ponytail and her make-up almost gothic but with full red shiny lips. Dr Swift was similarly dressed, although the studs on her bra -top and belt were silver, as were her leggings and her lipstick was a bright pink. The other piece of attire that the women had in common, and what made Poppy want to run, was that they were both wearing strap-on cocks over their leggings. Dr Swifts was long and thin and pink while Kimberley's was slightly shorter but thicker and black. Before Poppy could move to get away though, Kimberley spoke, "Come here, you little strumpet. Angie and I have a special night planned for you, sweetcheeks. Tonight our little princess is going to lose her virginity," she whispered with an wide, malicious grin. "Yes, come over here and kneel down. Its time you got to know our cocks better, cupcake," Dr Swift followed, raising a beckoning finger. Part of Poppy still wanted to run, another just wanted to burst into tears and plead on the spot but the largest part of her could only obey. Slowly, almost as if in a trance, Poppy advanced and knelt, looking up at the two women towering over her with wide, fearful doe- eyes. "Don't be afraid, darling," Kimberley teased, gently caressing Poppy's cheek, "we won't hurt you. A girl's first time should be special. You'll learn to love this, to crave it, soon enough." "Now use that pretty mouth. Suck our cocks, dear. It's important that you learn how to pleasure a dick with your mouth, lips and tongue," Angie added. Still Poppy hesitated but found herself leaning forward and pouting as Kimberley commanded, "Come on Poppy. Just give the end a little kiss." Poppy complied and for the next half hour found herself taking a lesson from the two women on how to give them blowjobs. It was the perfect opportunity for Kimberley to throw back many of the phrases and commands that Peter had given to her and this was not lost on Poppy as her cheeks burned in shame. "Lick the shaft." "Suck the balls too." "Swallow every inch." "Circle the head with your tongue." Presently the women were satisfied that Poppy was sufficiently trained in cock sucking. "Get up and lie on the bed, angel. Lie back and spread your legs for me, time to make a real woman out of you," Kimberley told her, eager to move on to this next stage. She did as she was told and Dr Swift stood at the other side of the bed, gently taking Poppy's wrists and pinning them above her head before whispering in her ear, "Just relax, princess. It'll only hurt for a moment but it will be worse if you resist." Poppy winced and wriggled slightly, realising how totally helpless and vulnerable she was as Kimberley untied the bows at the side of her panties and whipped them off, casting them casually aside. Kimberley poured some lube over the shaft and end of her strap-on and gently applied some of the cool, slippery gel to the pucker of Poppy's asshole. Smiling triumphantly down, Kimberley reached behind Poppy's knees and raised them up and wide, exposing Poppy's vulnerable rosebud to her before resting the tip of her thick strap-on cock against it. "Do you want this, slut? Do you want to get fucked? Do you want to be my little whore?" Kimberly asked her almost breathlessly. Poppy wanted to beg for mercy, for release, for anything else to happen but she knew there was no longer any way out. Remembering Dr Swift's words about resisting, but slightly misinterpreting them, Poppy panted, "Yes mistress. Please fuck me. Please take my virginity, make me your whore." "All-right then," Kimberley replied with a wicked, triumphant grin as she began to push with her hips. Poppy squealed and whimpered as the cock entered her ass, opening her tight hoop and gradually filling her up. After what seemed an age but can only have been a minute, Kimberley was fully inside her, filling her completely as she rested her hips against her. She stayed there for some time, leering down at the helpless sissy as Poppy panted and squirmed. "There you are slut. You're mine now, a virgin no more," Kimberley bragged. "Seems like the little bitch quite likes this," Dr Swift observed, noticing some clear fluid seeping from the end of Poppy's chastity device, "why don't you give her a good hard fucking, darling?" Kimberley proceeded to comply, thrusting her cock in and out of the powerless Poppy who could only moan and pant in time with the thrusts, arousing Kimberley more. For the next hour the two women took turns penetrating and fucking Poppy in every position they could think of. Finally, Kimberley took her from behind, doggy-style, while Angie fed her strap-on into Poppy's mouth. Spit-roasted like this, Poppy felt utterly used and humiliated. The last remnants of Peter's personality and resistance shattered and evaporated as Kimberley fucked him. The stimulation of her g-spot, combined with the humiliation and final submission, eventually led to her tensing and succumbing to her first anal orgasm, her caged cocklette pumping and spurting a steam of clear fluid. Finally released, Poppy collapsed quivering onto the bed. She knew that things had changed now, that there was no going back. The two women looked down at her in victory and also seemed to sense the change in Poppy. They gently took her in their arms and cuddled her tenderly, caressing her body and soothing her. "There you go, princess, you're all woman now," Dr Swift crooned, "the first time is always hardest but I know you'll learn to enjoy this, you're just a natural little slut." "Mmm, yes, Poppy. You've been such a good girl for us, a really great fuck. Now, why don't you go and shower and get yourself off to bed? Back to work for our little maid in the morning," Kimberley whispered in turn. Poppy stood, almost in a dream-like trance and began to leave the room. The uncomfortable, used feeling in her ass was a constant reminder that she'd just been thoroughly fucked like a whore and she flushed as she realised that, in the end, she had ended up enjoying it. Just before leaving through the door, she cast a glance over her shoulder. Her two mistresses were paying her no heed as they took each other in their arms and began to kiss passionately, readying themselves for a bout of vigorous lesbian sex to relieve their arousal at their newly acquired power over Poppy. A few days later, Poppy was busy tidying up her bedroom when Dr Swift entered with some clothes in her hands. She placed them on the bed and commanded, "Get undressed and put those on. Then I want you to join us in the basement. Don't take too long," before leaving the room. Poppy shivered in fright at the thought of the basement but knew there was no prospect of disobeying and she did as she was told. Once naked, she put on the delicate white lace bra, panties and garter belt. She pulled on a pair of white opaque stockings, with a single satin bow at the top of each one, and fastened them to the garter belt clips. Over the top, she put on the tight white PVC nurse's uniform with a large red cross on the front before zipping up some matching white PVC knee-high boots with a square heel. Nervous as a kitten, Poppy descended the stairs to the cellar and walked along a darkened corridor towards the single lit, open doorway. As she did so, she could hear a regular whacking sound, like a bat hitting a ball, followed by a brief scream and a series of whimpers of discomfort. On reaching the doorway, she stood open mouthed in shock as she saw the cause of the sounds. Kimberley was dressed in a black leather catsuit, with knee-high black leather boots. 7 and 14 were both in the room, tied spread-eagled on crosses at opposite sides of the room, with their own leather suits opened at the crotch, displaying their vulnerable genitals. Every half- minute or so, Kimberley would turn from one to the other, raise her knee and extend her foot giving them a kick between the legs. Her kicks were hard and accurate, causing the helpless figure to jump and scream in pain. Presently, Kimberley stopped, slightly out of breath from her exertions. Ignoring Poppy, she spoke to Dr Swift. "So. This is called 'ballbusting,' is it?" she asked and Dr Swift nodded, replying, "And some men will happily pay for a beautiful woman to repeatedly kick them in the nuts. I'm not really sure whether it's the pain or the humiliation of having a woman abuse them so sorely that they enjoy, or a combination of both. I don't suppose it really matters." Kimberley turned to Poppy. "So princess, do you think you might enjoy this? Should I tie you up here and get a bit more practice in?" she teased. "No! No...please Mama-san, not that," Poppy begged and whimpered, on the verge of bursting into tears. "Awwww. Such a fragile flower," Dr Swift scoffed. "Yes, you're right, Angie," Kimberley agreed, "I think the little strumpet would shatter into a thousand pieces if I did that to her. Anyway, I don't think she really needs much physical punishment anymore. She's become such a good, obedient little maid for me." Kimberley turned and regarded the restrained, quivering figures on their crosses. "No. I have a better use for Nurse Poppy. It looks like we have a couple of casualties here. Why don't you kiss number 7 better, Nurse Poppy?" she crooned. Poppy was initially stunned at the request, "Wh..what? What..., what do you want me to do, Mama-san?" she stammered. "I want you to get down on your knees and start kissing his balls, tramp," Kimberley snapped, more insistently. Knowing better than to disobey that tone of voice, Poppy shuffled over to the front of number 7 and, slightly reluctantly knelt in front of him. Confronted by his red and swollen genitals she knew there was now no way out of this and puckered her red lips and began to tenderly kiss the balls in front of her. Number 7 groaned slightly but couldn't help but become aroused by the feel of the soft, wet lips against his tender, abused skin. His cock began to twitch and stiffen. "My. What an excellent nurse you make, Poppy," Kimberley teased. "Looks like he's feeling better already. Why don't you kiss his cock better too, nursie?" Poppy flushed in shame but she did as she was asked, kissing the length of the stiffening dick. Kimberley stepped over and took the base of the shaft in her leather- gloved hand and began to stroke. "Put the end in your mouth, dear, remember what we taught you," Kimberley told her, reminding her of her shameful "lessons" with the two ladies" strap-ons. Of course she did as she was told and it wasn't long before the effect of her hot wet mouth and Kimberley's stroking had the expected effect. With a loud groan, number 7 shot a large load into Poppy's mouth and she had to struggle not to choke on it. Without thinking she swallowed down the sticky, salty fluid and looked up at Kimberley. "Well now. It looks like our little nurse likes the taste of cum," Kimberley said through a stream of giggles. "Yes. Lucky for her we have another patient," Angie joined in, "Why don't you crawl over and give him the same treatment, Nurse Poppy?" Poppy crawled across the floor and knelt in front of number 14 ad began the same process. This time the two ladies stood aside and watched her work, occasionally offering hints and advice as Poppy was forced to use her own hands to stroke the shaft. Again, it wasn't long before number 14's cock stiffened and pumped, filling Poppy's mouth with a second load of cum. "Well done, Nurse Poppy. I think both patients will make a full recovery now. But maybe we should have you back on a daily basis to repeat the treatment and make sure?" Dr Swift enquired. "Yes. An excellent idea, Dr Swift. For now, though, you're dismissed Nurse Poppy," Kimberley agreed. Flushing with shame, Poppy stood and smoothed down her uniform and headed through the door to the sound of the women's mocking laughter. The following week, Poppy was cleaning up in the kitchen. She was wearing her poppy-red maid's dress, liberally trimmed with white lace, black fishnet stockings and black ballet pumps with a red bow on the front. She jumped when she heard the doorbell ring - Dr Swift had few callers - and winced slightly as she heard Kimberley call to her to answer the door. Opening the door, Poppy was confronted by a curvaceous woman in her early thirties with an immaculately made-up, slightly feline shaped face. Her long auburn hair tumbled over her shoulders and she was wearing a tight fitting, dark purple velvet dress, purple opaque pantyhose and rust brown, suede, knee length boots. Standing a respectful distance behind her was an extremely pretty, petite black girl, maybe a few years younger, wearing a similar maids uniform to Poppy but hers was white with red lace trim, her fishnets were also white and her ballet pumps were red with a white bow. "Please come in," Poppy asked in a small, submissive voice. She briefly wondered who these guests were, suspecting nothing good would come of them for her, but decided she would find out soon enough. The two ladies followed her into the sitting room where Kimberley and Angie were sitting. Poppy stood to once side as they both got up and Dr Swift walked over and embraced the red headed woman tightly. "Kimberley, this is Yvonne, one of my neighbours. Yvonne, this is Kimberley, part of my latest couple in therapy." Angie performed the introductions, ignoring the two maids for the moment. Kimberley and Yvonne clasped hands for a few moments, Kimberley sizing up the taller woman and deciding she liked what she saw. "Ah, and that is Poppy, my other patient," Dr Swift continued, gesturing towards Poppy who stood with her head bowed and her hands clasped in front of her. "My, what a perfect little treasure," Yvonne cooed as she gave Poppy and appraising look before addressing Kimberley again, "and this is Rose, another of Angie's cases," she informed her. "Mmmm, cute," Kimberley concurred as Rose stood blushing slightly under her stare. The three woman sat and began chatting amiably. Rose stood obediently in the corner and presently Poppy was commanded to bring them tea. Returning and setting the tray down, she sensed that the women's small talk had moved on. "You'd be more than welcome to join us on our evening out, Yvonne. And afterwards," Kimberley said, obviously quite eager to get her hands on the sexy redhead. Yvonne appeared to consider her offer for a moment, equally clearly interested and intrigued by the possibility before answering. "That's a very tempting offer but I've already made other arrangements so I'll have to take a rain-check," she replied. Kimberley looked disappointed. She was obviously interested in the other arrangements and it was also clear that Angie seemed to know what they might be. "Yes, I've got one of my young bucks coming round shortly," Yvonne continued, noting Kimberley's curiosity, "When Angie suggested that I turn my husband Ross into Rose, I was a little reluctant at first. You see, I was worried about no longer enjoying a full sex life. I needn't have worried though, I now have a...erm..stable of four young studs. I have them on a rota but I can basically summon them round for sex whenever I wish. You might consider a similar arrangement yourself, Kimberley." Kimberley looked thoughtful for a moment. She had no intention of ever letting a man touch her sexually again. However, the thought of turning Peter's friends" wives into a harem of lesbian sex slaves was definitely worthy of consideration. "Of course," Yvonne continued, "being in their early twenties, my bucks can give me a good seeing to at least two or three times a night, which is way more than Ross ever managed. And Rose is such a talented fluffer we can often up that to four or five fuckings in a visit," she giggled. Kimberley looked slightly confused, asking, "Fluffer?" as she was unfamiliar with the term. "Yes," Yvonne answered, "like in the porn industry. A fluffer is a girl that works off-camera to keep the male star hard and ready with her mouth between takes. I swear Rose could give a dead man an erection with that skillfull mouth of hers." The three women laughed together. Rose blushed furiously with shame at this story, although she was secretly quite proud of her recently discovered talent in that area. "Well," Kimberley replied after their giggles had subdued, "it turns out that my Poppy is a bit of a natural in the cock-sucking department. Although she lacks experience, she is showing a fair bit of enthusiasm to make up for it." It was Poppy's turn to blush and shuffle her feet uncomfortably. "So why don't we have a little demonstration while we finish our tea?" Angie suggested. The two ladies nodded in agreement, smiling in amusement. "Rose, drop your panties and lift your skirt," Yvonne commanded, looking very satisfied as Rose instantly complied. Poppy looked shocked as she was confronted by Rose's large erection, unlike Poppy she had never received the drugs and hormones to shrink it down. Rose was also now so well trained, obedient and compliant that she did not need a chastity device. "Poppy. On your knees. Get that pretty mouth to work on Rose's cock. I want her cumming in your mouth within five minutes or there'll be hell to pay," Kimberley scolded. Without delay, Poppy dropped to her knees in front of Rose and began sucking her stiff black pole as if her life depended on it. The three women silently sipped their tea, slightly flushed with arousal at the sight of the two sissies engaged in this intimate sex act for their enjoyment, and Kimberley occasionally glanced at her watch. Well within the deadline, Rose gave a load moan and tensed, pumping her load into Poppy's mouth. The three women clapped in appreciation at her performance before Kimberley stood and walked over to Poppy. Taking the key from her wrist, she bent and lifted Poppy's skirt and removed her chastity device. "Now Poppy," she crooned, "you've been such a good girl for me, I thought you deserved a little treat. Why don't you and Rose go up to your room and have some fun? Go on, you've earned it. We'll see you in the morning." Poppy looked surprised but could see Dr Swift nodding in agreement. Rose held out her hand, waggling her fingers at Poppy. Poppy stood and took her hand and allowed Rose to lead her from the room and up the stairs, the sound of the three women's giggles in her ears. Later that night, Kimberley and Angie returned from an enjoyable evening out at dinner followed by drinks and dancing in a lesbian club in town. As they headed for bed, they could hear rhythmic motion from beyond Poppy's bedroom door combined with groans and squeals of pleasure. Stopping to listen for moment, they were treated to the sound of Poppy's voice screaming, "Oh Yes...yes Rose...yes. Fuck me.... Fuck me..... Harder...harder. I love it! I love it!" Giggling into their palms, the two women enjoyed the sounds for a moment before takin each other's hand and heading to Angie's bedroom to make some noise of their own. A couple of days later, Poppy was given her first public outing. Dressed quite simply, in a black lycra dress with sheer black stockings and black ankle boots she looked elegant and sexy and totally feminine. Her hair was tied back in a pleated ponytail and her make-up was done with smoky eye-shadow and bright red lips to complete the look. Dr Swift dropped Kimberley and Poppy in a relatively quiet mall on the edge of town. As Kimberley walked away, Poppy could think of nothing to do but follow her, a respectful couple of paces behind with her head bowed hoping she wouldn't draw attention. Shortly they reached a tattooist's parlour and Kimberley entered with Poppy nervously following. They were greeted by a heavily pierced goth-girl in a black Lolita dress, with a black choker. It was only on closer inspection that Poppy could see that the lace sleeves of the dress were actually tattooed on the girls arms. "Ahh, Miss Kimberley, we've been expecting you," the receptionist spoke, "and this must be Poppy? Please follow me." The girl stepped through a curtain at the back of the room and down a corridor to a back room with Kimberley and Poppy filing behind her. On entering the back room, Poppy saw a large chair, almost like a dentist's, with a heavily tattooed and pierced, slightly overweight man sitting on a stool next to it. "Is everything clear?" Kimberley asked the man who simply nodded. Kimberley turned to Poppy. "Take off that dress, my dear. Now. I want you to be a good girl and do everything that Bob here asks you. Your mistress has arranged and paid for all of this, so just go along with it, yes?" Poppy shivered slightly in fear but nodded and quietly replied, "Yes, Mama-san," before slipping the shoulders of her dress down, tugging it down her body and revealing a plain set of black satin underwear on her pale body. Kimberley regarded the receptionist who similarly shivered, but in fear or excitement? She took a lead out of her bag and fastened it to the girl's choker. "I will amuse myself outside. Call me when you're done," Kimberley told the tattooist who smiled lecherously at the sight of the two women leaving the room, Kimberley leading the receptionist who meekly followed. "Sit," the tattooist said, gesturing to the seat and Poppy obeyed nervously. Over the next two hours, Poppy had her ear lobes pierced and large hoop earrings inserted. A few more piercings were made in her ears to accommodate a few more rings, studs and a bar. Her nose was pierced with a small sparkly stud followed by her tongue with a large metal stud the felt like it was filling her mouth. "This will make oral sex better. For whoever you're giving it to, obviously," the otherwise taciturn tattooist chuckled to himself. Two small rings were pierced into Poppy's nipples and a sparling, dangling piercing inserted into her navel. Finally, the tattooist had her turn over and set to work on her lower back. After some time and some mild discomfort, he finished and took a photograph. Showing Poppy the picture on the back of the camera, she could see she now bore a "tramp-stamp" just above the curve of her buttocks. The design was of a small red poppy flower within a love-heart with two angel wings branching out on either side. Poppy wanted to cry at being so branded but she held back her tears, knowing that it would displease Kimberley and almost certainly lead to punishment. The tattooist made a short call on his phone and a few minutes later Kimberley returned. The receptionist followed, still on the leash, but was now naked except for her shoes and ribbon-topped black stockings, displaying her heavily tattooed, pale-skinned body with its own array of piercings. "Are you sure you don't want me to pierce her down there too?" the tattooist asked, pointing to the front of Poppy's satin panties. "No," replied Kimberley, "no need. I'm not sure how long she'll be keeping that anyway," she continued with a malevolent smile, "Now get dressed Poppy." Poppy reached for her dress but Kimberley stopped her. "Not in that, wear these," she commanded handing Poppy two garments from her bag. Poppy put them on. They were a mini-skirt and crop-top made of a shiny black lycra material. They looked almost identical to the dress she had been wearing, but with the middle cut out to display her navel piercing and new tattoo. "Now everything is paid for," Kimberley stated, "but I think it would be polite to give the man a tip. Why don't you test out that new tongue piercing Poppy?" The tattooist pulled down the zip of his leather trousers, leaving Poppy in no doubt about what sort of tip would be required. Poppy knelt and took his cock in her mouth, quickly getting him hard and, after a few minutes, making him come with a large groan. Finishing, she looked up in shame at the two women who had clearly been enjoying the show. She stood and silently followed Kimberley from the shop and back to the car park where Dr Swift collected them and drove them back to her house. A few days later, it finally became time for Kimberley and Poppy to return home. Dressed in a black biker's jacket, tight black jeans and black thigh-length leather boots, Kimberley led Poppy to the car on her leash. Poppy was dressed in a short, bubble-gum pink PVC dress with a matching collar and bubble-gum pink patent platform shoes. Her fishnet stockings were a darker neon-pink, with a lace top that showed just below the hem of her dress and matched the colour of her lacy bra and panties. Her eyeshadow was also pink, as was her lipstick and gloss, with her lips stretched over a pink ball-gag. Her arms were restrained behind her with handcuffs. Dr Swift followed the pair out. A few curtains on the street twitched but there was no fuss. The women on the street all knew Dr Swift's business and approved. The men had all either been through her therapy or lived in fear of being sent on it so would make no objection. Kimberley opened the rear of the 4x4 and had Poppy sit on the edge. She carefully lowered the restrained girl onto the floor and guided her legs up. Taking a length of red cord, she bound Poppy's ankles and fastened the rope to the handcuffs turning her into a neatly hogtied parcel for transport home. Just as she was about to close the door, Yvonne arrived and warmly embraced Kimberley and Angie in greeting. "I just came to wave you off, dear," Yvonne said as she looked at the prone Poppy in the rear of the car, "So, no maid's uniform today?" "No," replied Kimberley, "this one has some way to go before she can become my maid again." Yvonne looked slightly confused and Kimberley explained, "Poppy is going to spend some time as a street hooker, working for me. When she's made her financial target, I'll promote her to an escort. When she's made enough money from that, I'll allow her to become a web-cam girl and work as my maid again. Only when she's made her target from that, and when she begs, will I spend her earnings on surgery and she can become a good little housewife for me. She's already booked in for breast implant surgery next week, so that will be a start. A new start with new double- D's." Poppy's eyes were wide in horror as Kimberley spoke, this was the first she'd heard of this plan. But even more horrifying to her was the way her caged cock was straining and dribbling and the knowledge that she was now conditioned to willingly undertake, even enjoy, the humiliating tasks her mistress had set her. Yvonne looked surprised at this explanation but was clearly quite aroused by what she'd heard. "And you? What does the future hold for you?" she asked. "I plan to set myself up as a professional dominatrix. I think I'll quite enjoy taking money from men to abuse them," Kimberley replied with a laugh. "Well, best of luck," Yvonne replied, before giving Kimberley a tender, lingering kiss, "I hope we'll see you back soon. "Count on it," Kimberley returned, "After Dr Swift has treated her next patient I have a number of bookings with her for Peter's friends and their wives. I plan to have them turned into more whores to increase my income." Yvonne stepped away and waved with her fingers before heading back to her house. What she had just heard had turned her on so much, she was going to cancel her plans for the afternoon. Instead she thought she would tie Rose to the bed and sit on her face for an hour or two to relieve her horniness. Kimberley gave a loving embrace to Dr Swift and a passionate kiss before climbing in the car and driving off. Angie returned to her house, smiling with satisfaction at the conclusion of her latest treatment. She walked into her study and picked up the file for her next patients who would be arriving in an hour. The picture on the front of the file was of a cute young Indian couple, the woman in a traditional red sari, the man in a business suit. Reading the notes, Angie could see that they'd had an arranged marriage and that the man, Tamwar, had turned into a petty tyrant, expecting his well-educated wife, Seema, to take on a subservient housewife role. Angie considered for a moment that Tamwar would look quite good in a sari himself, taking up that traditional housewife role. She smiled as she thought that Seema would look equally good in a business suit. Her experience with Kimberley had taught her that treating the wives as well as the husbands was definitely the way to go. As Angie finished reading and began to prepare for her new patient's arrival, her thoughts turned to a new name for Tamwar. She remembered the small yellow flowers that grew in the meadows where she had grown up. Tansy. That would be a pretty name. Or maybe Tulip?