The memory of the impact of Helen's words startled me
out of my late afternoon reverie. I glanced again at the kitchen clock; it was
now approaching six; I barely had time to honor the last of Mistress'
instructions before she was due to arrive home. After neatly folding Helen's
list in two, I placed it and the magic marker on the kitchen counter, then
headed toward the bedroom. In what was becoming a ritual for me I stripped,
dropped my soiled clothes into the hamper filling with tomorrow's laundry,
then stepped into the shower.
The hot, drenching spray relaxed my tired muscles.
After a idle moment or two I spent fifteen minutes shaving my legs, arms and
underarms. Mistress liked my skin smooth, clean and hairless and I did as
thorough a job as possible with the twin-bladed razor. Reluctantly abandoning
the luxurious warmth of the shower, I dried, powdered and lightly perfumed my
body.
When I was finished I spent a moment pondering my pale
pink reflection in the mirror covering the wall above the counter and sink.
The image in the glass shattered my pretensions of truly being female. However
slender, hairless and smooth this creature in the glass might be, he was still
decidedly male. I turned away, eager to put on my panties, brassiere,
stockings, heels, garter belt and pale blue slip. Once I was dressed I
returned to the bathroom and confronted my reflection again. The padded bra,
satiny slip and smooth stockings gave my body a pleasing feminine appearance.
I frowned, my short hair and naked, masculine face completely destroyed the
illusion existing below my neck.
At precisely 6:21 I centered Helen's vodka tonic on a
coaster on the coffee table. Kneeling beside the couch, my face toward the
door, I began my wait for my Mistress. Unlike that night a week before,
tonight I was at peace. The fear, the confusion, I had felt seven nights
before were now only a fading memory. This was where I wanted to be: waiting
for Mistress, waiting for her commands.
After the revelation which had come with that first
punishment, I had been happier than I had been in years. Cleaning, vacuuming,
washing clothes and dishes, seemed a luxury. Being responsible only to Helen,
needing only to please her, to obediently do her bidding, was a simple and
easy joy. I even looked forward to the spankings, which came at least once
each evening. Perhaps the only stricture I had found difficult was her command
that I not touch my penis without her permission. Even this was only truly
hard when she would pull my head into the dark intersection of her naked
thighs. After that first night, when she had forced me to eat my own sperm,
she had not touched me, not allowed me an orgasm. Though frustrated, I
struggled to accept this enforced celebacy as a part of my training.
She was home. I could hear her closing the garage door.
My body stiffened beneath my slip in anticipation. Her key invaded the lock.
The door swung open. I dropped my head and closed my eyes, folding my hands in
my lap. As she had each evening, Mistress ignored me. She walked into the
kitchen, then the dining room. As I waited the soft sound of her shoes on the
carpet faded; she was headed toward the bedroom. A moment or two later I heard
her return.
"JoAnna," Helen called softly.
"Yes, Mistress." I did not raise my head or open my
eyes.
"You may look at me."
As always her beauty took my breath away. Her long, red
hair complimented the near navy color of her tailored business suit. The twin,
soft curves of her hips, waist and breasts tantalized me. I had a sudden urge
to crawl to her and hug and kiss her slim ankles. She gave me the barest hint
of a smile. I blushed and dropped my head.
"JoAnna, I am very pleased with your work. The house is
spotless."
"Thank you, Mistress." My eyes moistened. It was the
first time she had given me any praise for my housework.
"You deserve a reward. I have brought you a gift." She
strolled to the couch, then sat beside where I knelt. Stroking my cheek idly,
she said, "you can have it after dinner." She picked up her drink, my signal
to leave and begin preparing her meal.
"Come with me," Helen said after I had cleared away the
soiled dinner plates. She led me to her bedroom. A large, round white box lay
on the dark bedspread. "You may open it, JoAnna."
Inside the box I found a glorious wig of medium length
honey-colored, curly hair. I bit my lip, fighting back tears. "Oh, Mistress!
Thank you!" Taking my hand, she pulled me into the bathroom, then pushed me
down into the small chair facing the mirror. Together, under the bright mirror
lights, we fitted the wig over my short brown hair.
"What do you think, JoAnna?" Mistress' reflection
smiled down at me. "Do you like my gift?"
I stared, enchanted by my reflection. The soft curls
resting on my pale shoulders were lovely; they glowed and sparkled in the
bright light. Gently I swayed my head from side to side, fascinated by the way
my new locks flowed with the movement. Tentatively, I touched the soft hair
framing my face, then gingerly pushed it back and away from my neck. Mistress
laughed, clearly recognizing that I was rapidly falling in love with my
altered reflection.
"Thank you, Mistress," I whispered.
"You look very pretty, JoAnna." Mistresses caressed the
back of my neck. "I want you to look pretty, darling, to please the company we
have coming tomorrow night."
I stared at her face in the glass. Company? I shivered.
"Is Denise coming back?" I asked, knowing I was being impertinent.
Helen's smile faded. "Yes, darling, Denise will be
here." She slapped me lightly on the cheek. "Now no more questions. Replace
your wig carefully in the box, then go fetch the ropes for me and position
yourself on the bed. I can't wait to feel your tongue inside me."
That night she rode my face hard; her hands gripped the
back of my skull and pushed me so far into her crotch that I could barely
breathe. By the time she reached orgasm my tongue and jaws were numb.
Exhausted, I fell asleep even before Mistress untied me.
The next morning the brevity of Helen's note surprised
me. Other than cleaning the master bathroom, vacuuming the living room carpet
and dusting the furniture I had no other chores. I was instructed, however, to
bathe and shave myself especially carefully and well. In another break from
what had been our mundane routine, I was to put on my clean maid's dress after
I bathing rather than a slip. The pale blue note also informed me Mistress
would be arriving home from work much earlier than normal, at four if all went
well at the office.
I rushed through my housework and then regretted my
haste. With nothing to do I could not keep myself from anxiously wondering
what the evening might bring. Would Denise still approve of me? Would I once
again find myself between her thighs, my face buried in her overgrown pubic
hair? The thought of once again submitting to the tall, dark haired woman
excited me and, for a moment, I thought about disobeying Mistress and
masturbating to relieve my anxiety. Ashamed by this rebellious thought, I
forced myself to lie face down on the bed and pretended I was tied
spreadeagle.
"JoAnna," Mistress said as she struggled the door with
two large grocery bags at ten minutes to five, "get up off your knees. I'm
late and we have a lot to do." Leaving her freshly poured drink untouched, she
stalked to the kitchen, beckoning me to follow. "We'll need three of
everything - glasses, coasters, salad plates, forks, spoons, knives." I stood
behind her, stunned. Three? I wondered if I was included in the number. If I
was not, then Denise was not going to be our only guest. "Be sure they match,
darling. I'm going to shower and dress."
When Mistress returned to the kitchen half an hour late
I was stunned by her transformation. She wore a white, low cut, swirling dress
that looked both soft and sexy, a wide black belt, pearls and white, four inch
heels. She also wore more makeup than I could remember her wearing in years.
"Do I look nice, JoAnna?" Mistress grinned at me.
"Denise insisted I buy this dress. I thought it wasn't right for me, but," she
turned in a circle, the skirt flying around her calves and thighs, "it does
make me feel wonderfully wanton."
I couldn't speak and I couldn't pull my eyes away from
her half exposed breasts. I wanted to rush to her, to hold her. I wanted to
make love to her as we had in the early days of our courtship. I suddenly
realized how ridiculous, how effeminate, I looked. For the first time since
that night of my first punishment I felt confused about who I was, who I
should be. I lowered my head. My cheeks burned; my eyes filled with tears.
"What's the matter, JoAnna?" Mistress stood next to me.
She stroked my hair. "What has my little girl, my little sweetie, so upset?"
"You just look so beautiful, Mistress," I mumbled,
hoping she would not guess the truth. At the same instant I wanted her to know
how I yearned for her and for her to respond to my desire. As her JoAnna, as
her slave, I was powerless to take her into my arms.
"Silly girl," she murmured. "We can't have you all
weepy now. It's going to be an exciting and busy night." She laughed and
kissed my cheek. I fought the impulse to grab her and kiss her on the mouth.
"I know what will cheer you up; let's go do your makeup!"
Slightly more than half an hour later I sat staring in
open mouthed amazement at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The image in
the glass was now, to my eye, at least, entirely female. My eyebrows were thin
dark line, my eyelids a delicate shade of blue, my lashes long and dark, my
cheeks a smooth pink. My lips were no longer thin and pink. Now they were full
and luscious red. The face beneath my honey colored hair was the face of a
lovely young woman.
I struggled to reconcile the entirely feminine image in
the mirror with the feelings boiling inside me. I glanced at Helen's
reflection. The inward sweep of her dress to her waist tortured me. I wanted
to hold her there. I wanted her to melt in my arms. I looked back at myself,
at JoAnna. Currents of resentment began to flow through me. The docile girl
staring back at me from the mirror seemed to mock my frustration.
"JoAnna?" Helen's voice was sharp.
I dropped my head, both ashamed and proud of my
rebellious thoughts. "Yes, Mistress."
"I want you to listen to me very carefully. You are to
serve our guests tonight in any way they desire. Do you understand?"
I didn't immediately answer her. I was confused. What
did she mean?
"You do not need my permission. You will treat any
demand that a guest makes to be my order." When I still did not reply Mistress
gripped my neck and pulled my face around to hers. "Do you understand?" Her
voice was harsh, menacing. A tiny spark of anger flickered in my stomach.
"Answer me, slut! Do you understand?"
Her eyes bored into mine. "Or would you rather leave?"
Her voice was deadly calm. I dropped my head.
"Yes, Mistress, I understand."
"Stand up, JoAnna. Bend over the counter and lift your
skirt." Mutely, I obeyed. "Tonight is very important to me. I want you on your
best behavior. Maybe this will serve as a reminder to be a good girl." Her
blows were hard, unmercifully hard. Despite my rebellious resolve not to, I
began to cry and whimper after the first thirty seconds. When she was
finished, Helen spun me around. "Now look what you've done, you stupid thing;
you've ruined your makeup." She pushed me back into the chair and spent
another fifteen minutes repairing the havoc my tears had wrecked.
At 8:10 the door bell rang.
"Open the door, JoAnna. Smile for our first guest." My
hand began to shake as I walked across the living room carpet toward the front
door. My stomach was full of briars. I swallowed, then quickly pulled the door
toward me.
It was Denise. She smiled at me then pushed past me and
into the room. "Helen, darling, you look magnificent! Stunning! Give me a
kiss!"
The women embraced. As I watched from beside the door
Denise cupped one of Helen's breasts. I dropped my head, not wanting to see
someone else touching my wife in such an intimate way.
"I'm so excited," Mistress laughed, still hugging the
other woman. "You don't know how glad I am that you'll be here." The women
kissed. "It's all I could think about for the last three days."
"I wouldn't miss it for the world, Helen." At last
releasing Helen, Denise turned to me.
"Is that really you, JoAnna?" Her frank gaze was
disconcerting. "What a difference a week makes." She motioned for me to turn
around. Reluctantly I obeyed. "Nice! Helen, you've done superbly with her. She
looks just like a girl. You should be proud." Turning back to me, Denise said,
"get me a drink, JoAnna. Bourbon and water."
I turned to Helen. "Yes," she said, "bring me a drink,
too, JoAnna. Make it a double."
As I scurried to the kitchen, relieved to be free from
the tall brunette's eyes, the two women continued to discuss me.
"Is she obedient?" Denise asked.
"Yes," Helen answered. "I had a bit of trouble with her
the first day, actually. I followed your advice and she's been the perfect
little lamb ever since."
"I suppose tonight will be a major test."
I couldn't hear Helen's answer because I was running
water for Denise's drink.
"Well," I heard Denise say, "you have to be firm. If
she won't accept, you have only one option. Still, if you show her she has no
choice..."
I returned to the living room, a glass in each hand.
The women were now sitting on the couch.
"Come here, pet," Denise said as I handed her the
drink. "Kneel beside me." I did as she instructed. The dark haired woman
patted me on the head. "Do you love your Mistress, JoAnna?"
I blinked, then answered yes.
"Do you remember the promises you have made to
her?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
"What were those promises?" She cupped my chin, forcing
me to look at her.
"To be hers completely," I said weakly, glancing at
Helen. My wife was staring at me, her face an inscrutable mask.
"What does that mean, JoAnna?" Denise's voice was even
and soft. Her grip tightened. "What does it mean that you are Helen's?"
I tried to clear my throat. Why was she asking me these
questions? "That I will do anything she desires; that I belong to her."
"Are you her slave?"
I bit my lip. "Yes," I finally said.
"Now, this minute? Are you Helen's property, her slave?
Will you obey her completely - right now?" Denise leaned toward me. Her large,
dark eyes hunted mine. My pulse quickened. My stomach knotted. I could not
escape her. "Tell me if you are."
"Yes," I said, the word escaping my lips like a fleeing
thief. "I am Helen's slave. Her property."
"This very instant, JoAnna?" She released her hold on
me.
"Yes, " I whispered, dropping my head again. "This very
instant."
Denise instructed me to stand, to lift my skirt and
pull my panties down. I did so, my face burning but my rebellion spent. She
told me to touch my penis, to hold it out away from my body.
"Make yourself hard," she said. "Play with yourself but
do not come." After a slight pause, she added, "look at me while you do
it."
I obeyed. Her eyes held me as securely as Helen's
ropes. I felt myself rise and stiffen. Just as I began to feel the prickly
heat the signaled orgasm was approaching Denise ordered me to stop. She stood
and stepped toward me.
"JoAnna, your tiny little dick cannot satisfy your
Mistress." My cheeks flamed; I remembered what Helen had said seven days
earlier, during Denise's last visit, that my lovemaking had never satisfied
her. "Look at the little thing. As hard as it can get and it's still no bigger
than one of my fingers!" She reached down and roughly gripped my penis. "You
know what I'm saying is true, don't you, JoAnna?"
"Yes," I said, feeling suddenly defeated, overwhelmed.
"That's why she made you into JoAnna, into her slave
maid, isn't it? You do know that, don't you?"
"Yes." I fought the tears invading my lower
eyelids.
She twisted my cock painfully then pushed it down and
back between my thighs. "Close your legs, JoAnna." I obeyed and Denise stepped
back. "You see, Helen? She how she really looks like a girl now?"
"She does!" Helen laughed.
Denise turned back to me. "Do you want your Mistress to
be happy, JoAnna? You wouldn't want her to be miserable, would you?"
"Of course not," I answered, confused by this new line
of questioning.
"Good, JoAnna." Denise smiled at me, then glanced back
at Helen. "Sometimes your Mistress needs more than your tongue to make her
happy. Sometimes she will need a big, beautiful cock. A cock that can thrust
deep inside her and make her come again and again. A cock much bigger than
yours."
I couldn't breathe. I felt like I would shatter into a
million pieces if I so much as moved at all.
"Isn't that right, Helen?" Denise's eyes did not leave
mine. "Helen, tell your slave what you need, what you want."
I wanted to look at Helen, but I couldn't tear my eyes
from Denise's face. Helen stood up, then walked slowly toward me. Denise
stepped aside; now Helen stood in front of me, a sad smile on her face.
"JoAnna, I love you. You've made me very happy this
past week. You can never know what a thrill I feel when you are on on your
knees before me." She leaned forward, her lips brushed my cheeks. "But I am
going to take a lover."
The tears now overflowed. Mistress touched the tiny
river winding down my left cheek. "I am going to take a lover and you are
going to watch."
Denise was now beside me, too. "Because your Mistress
loves you so much, JoAnna, she is going to share her lover with you." The two
women were now almost hugging me, Denise on my left, Helen on my right. "She
wants you to share her joy." A hand forced its way between my thighs. "You
will see Helen take her lover's huge cock in her mouth and in her cunt."
Fingers brushed the rigid flesh of my penis.
"I want you to be there, darling," Helen murmured in my
ear, "to see his cock stretch me open, plunge into me." One of the women was
now slowly pumping my penis. "I want you to hear me scream his name, beg him
to take me again and again." Another hand was caressing my balls.
"Imagine it, JoAnna," Denise whispered, kissing my ear.
"Imagine your Mistress' beautiful legs on his shoulders as he drives that
huge, gorgeous cock into her. Imagine her kissing her lover a thousand times.
Can you see it?" Now I was on the brink of coming. The hand pumping me
withdrew. I moaned. "Can you see it, JoAnna? Can you see him, all sweaty,
driving into her, fucking your wife, your Mistress? See his dark cock slip out
of her cunt and then drive back in?" The hand returned, but only for an
agonizing instant. I shivered. The women pressed in closer to me.
"Darling, I want you to see me when I come." Two sets
of nails slid painfully up my thighs. "I want you to see my shake, see my
breasts darken, my nipples harden like tiny stones." Two hands squeezed my
balls. "I want you to hear me scream his name. See his beautiful, wet, spent
cock finally pull out of me." Fingers gripped my penis, squeezed until I felt
intoxicating pain. "I want you to see the last pulse of his sperm strike my
belly." Denise leaned into me, biting my ear. "I want you to watch me coat my
fingers with that sperm, then watch me lick them clean." Helen dug her nails
deep into my thigh.
"Don't you want your Mistress to be happy?" Denise
pulled my head around until our faces were only inches apart. "Don't you?"
"Yes." The answer sprang from my lips before I could
stop it.
"Will you watch me?" Helen's voice was light as
feathers. "Will you?"
"Yes," I whispered, turning to face her and replaying
in my mind the wanton images the women had conjured for me. "Yes." My legs
were trembling. I felt dizzy, faint. I feared I would fall.
"I love you so much, darling," Helen kissed me softly
on the lips. I clung to her with what little strength I still possessed. "You
have made me wonderfully happy."
Ten minutes later the doorbell rang again.
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